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#instead Jason has to deal with this crap
ghost-bxrd · 2 months
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Prompt:
Red Hood finds Nightwing in the throes of fear toxin, babbling about missed calls and text messages.
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hana-no-seiiki · 2 months
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Omg the dog shapeshifter ask is amazing but like- cat. i can already imagine Tim being all over you and being one of those guys where half his personality is just that he has a cat. Dick would 120% invest in those hoodies with the pouch to carry their cats, and Jason just carries you everywhere (wiggles be danmed).
The only person who has any qualms about it is Alfred because everything is covered in cat hair lmao.
meow. more pawtastic cat villain! reader w/ batfam
@sophiethewitch1 👅
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You tended to take the lead when it came to your relationships with the Robins
They were just too busy with duty and heroism that they rarely ever took the time to be or get into relationships. So you would help them, cover them in that area per se.
Though there were times, like an actual cat, that you suddenly hate their asses or be indifferent. You didn’t notice it yourself really. Sometimes you were just stressed from real life problems and whatnot
or dealing with Bruce’s constant sermons about how you were a bad influence on Jason. Blaming you for all these strung up bodies across the streets of Gotham that had been tied up with yarn and catnip.
sometimes you just wanted to reel back the persona you’ve built up as a villain and just chill out
but you see, if there’s anyone who would notice the slightest change in your demeanor it would be the batboys
Tim and Jason would be the first. They spend the most time with you.
Instead of giving them a kiss or a quick fuck after a job well done, you’d just say goodbye and leave.
Not even in your signature cat joke filled way of saying goodbye
Hell you would even just teleport out of there without a word
Tim would have most likely observed you more, but Jason? Jason would be on your ass in seconds
“Hey, kitty? We need to talk.“
Did I mention that the boys love to use various cat related nicknames for you? The cringier the better.
(Damian just calls you pussy at times)
In anycase, Jason knocks on your door. But you do not respond. Like, for a long fucken time.
Ofc, he smashed the door open.
And what does he see?
Well first it was nothing. I mean his eyes weren’t directly on the floor immediately . But then he move his gaze down,
You, in your cat form.
He just about screams. Shrieks. Like I could maintain his sense of dignity for you dear reader but nah. It started as a shout of surprise before it turned into a high pitched cry, and lastly cooing.
He’s confused at first and is worried about your sudden disappearance til you cleared things up.
Something about a curse that turns you into an actual cat at random moments.
You said it interrupted a lot of your civilian business (school, work, etc.) and so your mental health and well being took a decline.
And boy did Jason go mom mode.
He’s more on the practical side. He makes sure you’re comfortable and guarded especially when in dangerous situations.
Will never let you go on a heist with this curse on going. What if you get shot by a guard? What if you get kidnapped by those horrid animal pounds? Not to mention those perverts that would… no he shook his head.
Definitely keeps you within arms reach at all if not most times.
Tim finds out soon after. You tried to ask him to respect your privacy, but he couldn’t help himself. He was scared to death that he did something wrong or exposed something he did that breached your trust.
He immediately buys a ton of cat related products for you.
Not only that he does an extensive amount of research on cat health and diets.
His rooms gets covered by different studies on cat cellular makeup before he realizes that
Oh crap, he kinda enjoyed this.
And he hasn’t looked up how to actually cure this curse of yours.
Damian soon follows. He’s got it the worst out of all members.
Prides himself with his wide experience and knowledge with animals.
He uses visits to the vet as a threat when you misbehave.
But you’re a villain, you don’t get scared easily right? What’s the worse that could happen at the vet’s?
… yeah he almost got you neutered/spayed.
Safe to say that you were much more obedient after that.
Bruce isn’t that available or good with pets, so he mostly just funds whatever the boys do hoping that it’d lead to them not destroying stuff or killing people for you any more than before the curse.
Dick is the last to find out, and that was because Tim dropped a whole thesis about why the latter should definitely have more [Y/N]-cat-duty hours!
I mean just look at those charts! Your happiness is definitely at its highest when you’re with him
(ignoring the fact that he showers you with catnip)
Dick is definitely the
Cuteness aggression that borders on abuse type of cat owner
Very touchy with you.
And yes he invests a lot of money to get have pouches on his suits for you to be in. If not you’d be like that one cat from Spiderman Miles Morales just hanging out from a backpack of sorts, designed so you’ll never fall out.
Collars.
These men have collectively spent around hundreds of thousands of dollars on cat related shit
And you’re still wondering how tf this curse came to be
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DPxDC Crossover Prompt/Headcanon
I’m not opposed to the idea of Jason being a halfa... I’m just of the opinion that full ghost Jason works so much better mainly because the halfa version has a great deal many plot holes. 
The main one being the fact that Jason is just dead. He is literally corpse par crowbar. Dropping him a pool of liquid death is not exactly going to bring back an already unalived individual. 
Here’s were the DP crossover aspect comes in. 
Instead of being ground zero for the formation of a catastrophic evisceration of spacetime and becoming the perfect split between two dimensions like Danny, Jason is just kind of kurplunked into some nice ol’ ectoplasmic sewage as a premade, prepackaged corpse. 
Basically, what I’m imagining is when Talia tosses ded Jason into the Pit he just kind of... sinks. I imagine the viscosity of ectoplasm being less water-like and more like that one episode of Myth Busters when they swim through maple syrup. 
Talia is just watching Jason slowly sink into this extremely viscous, stick liquid like shit, shit, shit, shit, because, yuck, syrup don’t like hair. 
For the sake of prosperity, lets say Jason was already going to form into a ghost. Not only does his non-consensual sewage dive speed up the process of him becoming a ghost, it also locks said ghost in his corpse. The Pit was essentially so sludge his ghost was like ‘meh’ and decided path of least resistance. 
This turns Jason into an undead something-rather, up to the writer’s deliberation. (I’m very disinclined towards zombies due to a certain traumatic event during my childhood, so preferably not that.) 
From there the writer can really just go whatever angle they want. Maybe the zone spits him out back into Gotham, maybe lady Gotham comes for him, or Danny comes along and is like that’s not right. 
I would like to say, he has a book obsession instead of that nasty revenge crap. Let my library boy be an antisocial bookworm goddamnit! This is my hill and I will die upon it like Danny’s childhood!
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k1tt13sbl0g · 11 months
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Head cannon for Jeff;
❗❗❗ART ISN'T MINE 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙎 𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝙄𝙎𝙉'𝙏 𝙈𝙄𝙉𝙀, I'm using this for visuals, I'm too tired to draw anything out but yea credit to these artist❗❗
So for mr jeffy boy, I like to use BanningK's jeff. If you haven't heard or read the story and know of the time line, PLEASE check out Mr.creepypasta's videos for it, they are the SHIT.
So anyways, Jeff in this timeline by the original author, he doesn't carve a smile into his face, doesn't magically turn white because of being burned. Instead of that happening, the three boys still gang up on him. 𝘽𝙪𝙩, the main one, I forget his name, his mom and Jeff's mom decided they should get to know one another, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘑𝘦𝘧𝘧'𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘪𝘶'𝘴 𝘣𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴. Granted, Jeff beat the shit out of the kids but whatever. Cops knew and were friends with the asshole crotch goblins families so they were on their side for the most part. 𝘼𝙉𝙔𝙃𝙊𝙊𝘿𝙇𝙀, Jeff goes over to this kids house, and they actually get along ang bond over some stuff. Eventually, their moms' leave, 𝙊𝙊𝙊 𝙃𝙄𝙎 𝙉𝘼𝙈𝙀 𝙒𝘼𝙎 𝙍𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙔, and Randy tells Jeff to follow him. They go into his garage and he eventually shows Jeff his flare gun. Jeff, not wanting to deal with more fighting, tries to leave, but Troy and Keith show up, and Randy's saying basically to let them beat Jeff up. And Jeff, losing it, beat the fuck out of all them basically. Randy's and Jeff's mom eventually come back, they hear the car pull up. Randy freaks out and tells them he needs to put the flare. Everyone starts putting stuff away, and as Jeff goes to pick up magazines, Randy actually accidentally drops the flare, it goes off and shoots Jeff in the face. So, now half of his face is burned, and he's blind in his left eye. Doesn't turn any shade of color, it's just burned skin now. He doesn't kill his brother either in this one, his brother actually goes on to write books about his brother. I think it's called "friend, brother, killer. By Liu Woods" some shit like that.
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𝘽𝙐𝙏 𝙉𝙊𝙒 𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘼𝘾𝙏𝙐𝘼𝙇 𝙃𝙀𝘼𝘿 𝘾𝘼𝙉𝙉𝙊𝙉-𝙎𝙊𝙍𝙍𝙔 𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘽𝘼𝘾𝙆𝙎𝙏𝙊𝙍𝙔 𝘾𝙍𝘼𝙋 𝙄 𝙅𝙐𝙎𝙏 𝙉𝙀𝙀𝘿𝙀𝘿 𝙄𝙏 𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙎 𝙏𝙊 𝙎𝙊𝙍𝙏𝘼 𝙈𝘼𝙆𝙀 𝘼𝙉𝙔 𝙎𝙀𝙉𝙎𝙀
So, Jeff sees certain members of slender's proxy and acquaintances, (such as LJ, Jason the toy maker + Candy pop, Hobo Heart, and others), as family. Especially since his actual family was ehhhh not the best. Granted, he killed his parents but if they actually acknowledged their children and what was 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 going on, maybe they'd be alive. He views Sally as a little sister, and he has mixed feelings about her. Not in a bad sense, just, he feels awful. Especially since Jackson (EJ Goes by Jackson for my HC since LJS there and he tends to prefer it anyways), filled him in on what happened to her exactly. (𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙢 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖 𝙝𝙤𝙩 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙪𝙩𝙚 𝙙𝙤 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙘𝙝 𝙗𝙧𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙤𝙣𝙚) He likes Jackson, but has no idea how he'd even approach a person, er uh, demon? Like him. He knows he has emotions and feeling like a "human" but obviously he's not human anymore. With Ben and Toby, they're like his weird gbf's (Ben and Toby do be gay tho), but Jeff doesn't mind them dating. He's actually the reason they said anything to each other in the first place.
With jinx, it's weird. He met her one time just doing his crap in the forest. She attached him, because she needed to eat. Jeff having experienced junk like this, threw her off and they kinda had a stand off. Jeff was v e r y confused. I don't blame him, she'd be wearing a floor length dress, similar to mortica adams, but more Victorian goth. Eventually though the develope like a bro, sibling type bond. She's imortal and almost as old as Jack (LJ) so he didn't try to pursue her in anyway, plus he had *hinted* about it to her one time and she made it clear they wouldn't work out, but she was flattered non the less.
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Uhhh yeaaaa. I'll make one for Jinxs as well, especially because she's like my sona and I plan on writing a story about her background and how she became a vampire. It's sorta similar to Luis in "Interview with a vampire". But y'all will hear about this as I go hehe
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velveteenshadow · 11 months
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8. Batman dies instead of Jason so Tim dresses as a bat cause robin needs a bat
10. Timari Death Kisses [totally didn’t help you with it]
2. The Curse of Adoration
7. Midnight and Faux Feather
Ooo good list. I'm going to put a line just in case people don't want snippet spoils
8.
Seriously? Children were forced into holding onto powers they don’t understand. Why did Bruce never mention this before.
“When are we heading off then?”
Jason turns around to the voice. Roy in his Speedy get up is casually walking up to the two.
“Hey, where did you find the kid? I didn’t you replaced me Jay.”
“I did not replace anyone. Why are you here, Speedy?”
 “I came to see how you were doing. I also happened to find an interesting set of stolen artifacts that I thought we could look at it. Seems there is something that demands your attention more.”
He goes to leave but Jason stops him. Roy raises an eyebrow with a slight smile. Jason sighs.
“For the record, he found me. How about we go deal with the thing you found then set our eyes on the Paris situation?”
“Hey, Sir. I think you should look at this.”
On the screen, there is a list of jewelry. Next to it are seemingly random words. “Choker of Perfection, Anklet of Passion, Hair comb of Subjection, what are these? Why would there be a random list of jewelry?”
10.
“Are you okay? It’s not really my place but I heard you crying. Did you get hurt?”
Her eyes meet his before quickly falling. She did not have to speak for Tim to get an answer. He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a little charm he carries with him when he scouts.
‘She needs this more than I do. Maybe it can help raise her spirits.’
“Here, you can have this. It is a little robin to lead you out of the dark. It has helped me so far. Perhaps it can help you to.”
2.
Now, for this one. There's a chapter out on Ao3. I'll leave a little inside info.
The next chapter is titled "The Black Cat is Awakened".
Basically, I was in a rogue mood during the hanahaki hours. (An event by the lovely @the-coffee-fandom) That's what made me decide to use Edward Nygma as my main character or well, at least, for right now.
The version I'm using for Ed is the Gotham tv show version. Yes, I know it may not be the best show but I liked it so... that's the one I went with.
7.
This is one of my favorites that I have been working on in the shadows.
So, I play on this idea of Adrien not being dense. He can actually figure things out and he doesn't look at Mari being treated like crap and go "I magically cannot see the bs happening in front of me."
Felix is this. I really just wanted to write some Felix, Adrien, and Mari shenanigans.
Umm... let's see. Oh, this was inspired by Mr. Brightside but I think my mind decided to spin it in a weird way. I won't say it's super fluffy or angsty. It's writing itself is how I would put it.
Thank you for the ask!
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*rubs hands together* let's do this...
1. I know giving Freddy TOO much attention will backfire, so I won't aggressively eat the popsicle. I'll just... Eat it like normal. If he tries to make it dirty, I'll call mama Pam for help and he can deal with hers and Jason's wraths XD
2. Find a replacement. She ain't getting my friend, but I got some people in mind I'd feed hef..her...
3. SWEET JESUS BUBBA NO- I'll take on this chore, you SIT DOWN. I can hopefully charm/distract Audrey by telling them how much I love their singing voice (it wouldn't be a lie so that makes it better-). Though I may need Bubba's chainsaw if things go south...
4. I... Oh crap neither option is good XD um... You know what? I'm too tired, I don't want Freddy or Chucky or whoever the Frick else to harass me in the living room. I'll just scream at Patrick to shut up through the wall of my bedroom and possibly bang on it to get the message across... Then lock the door and text Jennifer or Tiffany I may need backup XD (NOT Carrie. She has her powers, but I will not let that innocent soul be anywhere NEAR Patrick)
5. Honestly, I can actually be pretty damn sneaky and quiet, even when I don't mean to (I don't know how!!! It just happens! I legit sneak up on people by simply trying to walk past them for heavens sake!). So I'll take my chances with Jason and Micheal.
6. I can't remember, is this Learherfaces brother Drayton? Or a different Drayton? If the former, I'll go with him since he seems like we both have the same want: to be left alone. If it's the latter, I'll go with Beetlejuice since I'm more familiar with him.
7. Again, I can sneak around people without them noticing. I'll risk it, and if they try to drag me in it I'll just tell them its not my fight or I have some other obligation and convince someone to be my alibi if they try to ask.
8. I don't care if she's throwing a chainsaw around. I WILL offer the cinnamon roll comfort. Even if I have to yell from a distance (I'll grab Freddy or Chucky as a meat shield if all else fails)
9. Oh hell no, Chucky you are GETTING THE BOOT. I don't care if i face Tiffany's wrath, nobody is going to pick on Carrie on my watch.
10. Oooooh shit, I can already feel the parental judgment... Screw it. I'm telling Pam. If I come clean, hopefully that'll at least put me on her good side. And even if it doesn't, Maternal reprimands is SOOO much better than facing whatever Freddy anyday.
11. I'm pretty sure their truths would either be horror related or some juvenile crap like "Who was your first kiss?" Or something. So I'll take truth.
12. I'm not familiar with Jerry, but if this is Patrick Bateman and not another Patrick, I'll pick him. I wouldn't be able to handle Patrick insulting me while 'helping' me.
13. Freddy. Jason was probably going to put him through a wall eventually to meet his quota, now he's got motivation. Bonus points is that I get to watch Freddy's "Oh shit" face and try to deny he ever did XD
Hey!! Oh wowwww, I love your answers XDDD
Haha, excellent plan B! XD I love how everyones go-to for when Freddy's being a hindrance is go get the Voorhees'. Like he's their badly behaved pet. Like GUYS. YOUR CAT"S RIPPING UP THE FURNITURE AGAIN, and they come in with the spray bottle (holy water, of course).
More sacrifices, good!
I'm so happy Bubba can be safe and relaxed but STAY SAFE YOURSELF!!! Here, take the Voorhees' badly behaved pet with you for a shield. (Also I love Audrey's voice too, I listen to those songs quiteee a bit)
Solid plan- just lock the door FIRST thing instead, so Patrick doesn't do a zoom of fury and get there before you can!! XD
Goodluck!! ^^
This is Leatherface brother Drayton ^^ I agree, too!
I'll be your alibi! Yes Officer, we were playing scrabble all night long so she couldn't have- oops wrong alibi.
!! Yes ^^ We are on the same page, here. Chucky wouldn't be a very good shield though, he is very small. Freddy would be okay, but he's still kinda small for comfort for shield standards. Have MICHAEL. dont worry, he has a very long history of being fine in the end and lots of referalls.
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9. Chucky and Carrie again!! Very good choices!! XD Hey, if we go by your au that Tiffany becomes basically Carries mother- she'll probably help you! XDDD
10. Good news!! Pam forgives you, and basically takes you into the family. You can have playdates with Jason, now! XD
11. Here is your truth, straight from the minds of Billy and Stu!!: You get to go back in time to see Who Framed Roger Rabbit in theatre on its opening night!- but you have to take and sit next to Glenda in a murder mood the entire movie. Do you go??
12. Oh yessss same. Jerry's compliments may come from a place of hunger, but that's still nicer to deal with then Patrick 😅
13. I love this whole paragraph XDD 'to meet his quota', 'now he's got motivation', 'Freddy's "oh shit" face'.
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Thank you so much for participating and sending in your great answers!! I hope you had fun thinking of them! ^^ XD
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peterjakes · 2 years
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'please eddie don't make me wait too long'
1986 has definitely not been Eddie Munson's year. With being accused of being a small-town serial killer to Harrington having no clue who Ozzy is, the past week has almost destroyed him. Almost.
So, this was my little take on everything that has happened to Eddie and his thought process going alongside that. It's gotta be tough for him, bless him. Hoping and praying he survives volume 2. Not long to go!
Thanks x
also posted on ao3; https://archiveofourown.org/works/39514068
It was that image. That moment. That what was stuck in his head. One minute he’s doing a drug deal with Chrissy Cunningham. The next, her lifeless, soulless body is lying on the dirty floor of his uncle’s trailer. And then Eddie did what he clearly did best, the only thing he could do. He ran. Like a fucking coward. He hadn’t even checked, hadn’t even seen if she could have been saved. Sure, Eddie had no idea how to check for a pulse but shit…he could have done something. He should have done something. But in that moment, it was like he couldn’t move, he was as paralysed as Chrissy was. And once the movement kicked in again, he couldn’t get out of there fast enough.  His first thought was to run, save his own skin. It was selfish, so, so selfish. Eddie never thought of himself as a very selfless person. But Chrissy, she was a decent person, a good person. She deserved better. And Eddie had just left her there. To rot.
Being back in the trailer, it brought that all back. Not that Eddie hadn’t been thinking about that whilst at Rick’s, but other things consumed him, occupied him. Like the fact the cops were probably most definitely going to find him. Or Jason and his gang of merry fucking idiots would first. Or how hungry he was, like all the time. Or better still, the weird shit that was happening in this town. Or how this year, 1986, was supposed to be his year. That was going well, wasn’t it? Fuck. How did everything get so messed up? So quickly?
Eddie had thought about what would have happened if he’d stayed with her. Stayed with Chrissy. If he hadn’t deserted her, left her to be by herself. He’d probably be in a jail cell right now, instead of wondering what the fuck was actually going on with Hawkins. He’d be far more clueless than he was now, even if nothing seemed to make any sense. This whole ‘Upside Down’ crap was a little unnerving. But hey, it wasn’t so bad, right? I mean, he’d survived. He hadn’t run away, and that…well, that was progress.
Not that it had made him feel any better. Somehow, throughout the day, he’d been feeling progressively worse. Seeing them; Robin, Nancy, Steve fucking Harrington, even Henderson…the way they all banded together, it was pretty powerful. But Eddie, he didn’t fit in there. Not that there was anything wrong with that. He’d been dealing with being an outcast his entire life. He’d never truly fitted in, and that was fine, it was perfect, it was what he wanted. His kingdom was Hell Fire, and anywhere else, that didn’t matter. But dealing with life-or-death situations messes with your head a little. The fact that Eddie could be so wrong about so many different people wasn’t too great either. He hated to admit it, but he had been a judgemental asshole. He’d been like the type of people he himself despised.
But that wasn’t the worst of it, of course it wasn’t. No matter what happened next, Eddie wasn’t sure he was going to be able to do it. He just didn’t have it in him. It wasn’t who he was. He wished it was, desperately, more now than ever. That hard exterior wasn’t who he was, not really.  Eddie wasn’t saying he was soft, because no, but he wasn’t the way he portrayed himself to be. He guessed no one was, not really. Who’d thought Nancy Wheeler, would own multiple guns? Or Steve Harrington would actually be a decent guy? It just wasn’t logical. But nothing seemed very logical in that moment, at least not to Eddie. Everyone else seemed to have a handle on it, even goddamn Lady Applejack. But not Eddie. One reason could be due to the fact they’d all dealt with this kind of shit before, but it was new ground for Eddie. But that wasn’t it and Eddie knew that. It was because he was a coward. He wasn’t brave, he wasn’t a hero. He just wasn’t wired like that.
There was a small part of him, the tiniest part, a part so little and insignificant it almost didn’t exist, that believed he could do something. Do something actually useful and helpful. He was capable, of course he was. Just because he decided to run before, didn’t mean he had to do it again. Things could be different, surely? But everything else, all those other feelings of self-doubt and anger, they were almost too much, too strong, too all-consuming.
It hadn’t always been like this for Eddie, but it had never been easy, just like now. Being blamed for those deaths, being seen as the town villain, being hated more than he already was, that wasn’t exactly normal. But could Eddie say his life was normal? He’d lived with his uncle for as long as he could remember, in this shitty, little trailer. His dad’s brother, who worked nights, and had no clue what was going on in his trailer. Eddie didn’t remember much about his parents, only that he had a dead-beat dad and an even deader mom. He looked like them, apparently, not that he’d know. No photos existed, at least not in the trailer. Growing up wasn’t the easiest in the world. They were poor, they lived in a shitty trailer park, Eddie didn’t like the same things as everyone else. But back then, he didn’t seem to care. He got into music, grew his hair out, started playing D&D and stopped giving a shit. Eddie wished he felt like that now, like he could do anything. But it just wasn’t that easy, not anymore. It wasn’t realistic.
Even if Eddie did manage to gear himself up, tell himself to stop being such a coward. Actually do something good and worthwhile for once in his shitty, little life. Who’s to say it would work? Sure, everyone but Eddie had dealt with this before, but that wasn’t a guarantee that everything would work out for the best. Nancy and Steve were still stuck in the Upside Down, with goddamn Bats and this crazy Vecna dude. The Sinclair’s were basically useless, Max was still on Vecna’s hit list and even Henderson seemed out of his depth. The odds were definitely against them all and Eddie didn’t see how he could be much help. What, realistically, could Eddie do to help?  It seemed that everyone had their place, and maybe there wasn’t room for Eddie. They didn’t need him. He was just an added extra. He didn’t need to be in the plan. He was just a spare part. A spare part that couldn’t actually be any help to anyone.
Everything just seemed to get worse. There seemed like they wasn’t any way out. Henderson seemed to have a plan, had an idea, had something. But who said that it would work? Who said everything would get sorted out? And what if they couldn’t? What if Eddie couldn’t? The past few days had shown Eddie how shit it could get, like really get. And he didn’t want it to back to that. If they could beat Vecna, if they could save everyone, what would that mean for Eddie? He didn’t think he could just go back home, and everything would go back to normal. Things would never been normal again. What did ‘normal’ even mean? He was a wanted man, a concept which sounded ridiculously in itself, but it was true. The whole town was gunning for him. And he doubt he’d be let off easily. That just wasn’t how it worked, and it certainly wasn’t going to work like that for Eddie. And for many of them, like Jason, this was great, like a blessing in disguise. A real reason to hate Eddie, to vilify him. And it didn’t seem like they were going to stop.
But there were people relying on him, good people. He had people looking to him, he was part of something now. This something was far bigger than Eddie could have ever imagine. Eddie still didn’t totally understand what the hell was happening, even with Henderson’s very detailed and thorough explanations. But Eddie guessed that didn’t matter, not really. Whatever it all meant, maybe they did need Eddie, maybe he was far more important than he’d thought.
He couldn’t run this time, not that he even wanted to. It wasn’t that anything was particularly different now, but Eddie felt different. He knew he had to try, he couldn’t be a coward, not now. Not when looking at how important this was. He didn’t know how they would do it, if they could even do it. He didn’t truly know what his part was in all of this bundle of crazy shit that was going on. But that didn’t seem to matter, not anymore. Everyone was trying; Eddie couldn’t be the one left behind. Not because he was scared, and he was scared shitless, and not be the only one not to try and to be left out. Eddie had to try, he had to. He owed Chrissy that. He did.
Maybe Eddie wouldn’t get his diploma, but he sure as shit was gonna try.
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the-firebird69 · 5 months
Text
Judge Tanya Chutkan Takes Jab at Donald Trump While Denying a Key Motion
She did make a note of a couple things he was doing with his behavior and it's in the docket that she has instructed the defendant to have certain behavior if he goes outside it he can she can bring contempt charges and he would be in court again in DC facing contempt of court and it's being said that it's one charge the other charges for what he's doing which is not legal his battery witnesses he's tampering with them and to bring it up and say that he's doing it is a start and he did to our son and this guy got plowed under by everybody and they're still doing it and you're going after his things today and you're going after what he took from the desert parks and from the regular parks and they're going after areas like New Vegas she says her hours and they're ripping everything out and there's a war up there now and Tommy Allen is going up there and he is going to mess the guy up and it is going to be a big battle and constant and huge really it's a lot of stuff mostly got pulled out to that location and they're a big bunkers below and they want Trump to stop clothing and they're moving on it shortly and remember that she was hitting them
-it's going to bring a lot of ships out there and the ships are moving down the rivers and we have half mild ships in about half of them are moving and he says the Trump ships and it's true they're leaving and they're going to be at the mouth around 11:30 a.m. and the one mile chips are sitting still and we don't think we'll move right now fairly soon things are going to start changing but not yet and Tommy f is attacking stand and he's using the ship above.
-there's quite a bit to talk about but this is coming to a head right now his landlord is a piece of crap once all his money back and says on his dumb s*** to us so you just start taking his stuff because he's an a****** and his bases are going to be attacked today by warlock and they're saying it because it's saying he's going down and he's losing all this stuff to the pseudo empire. His bases in Oregon and Washington State and New Hampshire made in Vermont and a small one in Western Mass and the going after all of them and he has several more one in California and one's on an island Hawaii it's not very big it's underwater no it's medium and they're all going to be assaulted today by the people he works with and instead of two I'm working with you and you're attacking me cuz you're you're attacking us and you're ridiculous bag not many of you that's for sure but Jordan John Riva Lord is one and Jason is having him fight in order to push him out and to get him back for Saudi Arabia it's a lot of that stuff going on and that's a big deal and we don't want him near our son and he's not going to make it and today he said it we are dwindling very fast making miracle is not doing well she's shrinking king and he's growing factories. And we're losing control of our stuff and it's true too is losing all his things and his factors are shut down and people are taking them today and is fighting them and dying is a huge deal tons of factories are opening most of these dimwits are getting clobbered and they're losers now they don't do anything I'm putting the order out on several of them screw gun right now
Thor Freya
Olympus
Zues Hera
Weregoing to make you pay again Stan for your implied threat on our son and you don't think it's real we get away with it
Frank Castle hardcastle
It's like this you keep saying s*** to our son and we keep hitting you and you won't shut your mouth you're another one of these jackasses and we're going after you and we are taking you down and we're taking tons of your stuff you don't need it apparently and your people are failing and movies on soon and Biden and Ken soon to follow our idiots and Ken is sitting there for a son's face saying he doesn't need anything and like Jason let me give you $10 I mean it's ridiculous and have him pay him back so we're going after him. And Stan aren't you shut your mouth you're a piece of s*** and a failure the sun is with trillions and trillions of dollars a minute and you're with nothing you keep on doing things like that and people see you trying to take things and you're getting killed and you're men are getting killed and women and you're dying fast and you shouldn't be doing it and you don't listen and you don't listen to results and you're almost gone for crazy you're just so f****** dumb. We are so sick of dumb people doing this and the people here are stupid as hell but in the UK there's a war and there's a war out west and in the Midwest over stuff between you morons you're all going to die I'm going to take care of you stand personally you're always threatening with devices
Duke nukem Blockbuster and he says thank God and I need that and I do
0 notes
camsthisky · 3 years
Note
"you’re not alone . you’re stuck with me forever . sorry . ” + Jason and Dick (and anyone other family member)?
“Everyone okay?” Dick croaks as the dust and rubble settles around them. He’s lying on his back, kept still by something pinning his legs down. He doesn’t dare assess himself quite yet. “Hood? Batgirl?”
“Okay,” Cass says, and Dick watches as she stumbles over to him, looking dusty, but relatively alright. She kneels next to him with a frown. She meets his eyes—well, relatively since they’re both wearing masks—and asks, “Okay?”
Dick grimaces. “Not really.” Louder, he calls, “Red Hood?!”
“Here, here,” Jason says, coughing into his fist. He’s missing his helmet and there’s a gash sluggishly bleeding from his right cheek, smearing a trail of blood down his face. He’s also limping, but only slightly.
“Can you move?” Cass asks Dick as Jason pulls out his flashlight.
Dick winces at the sudden light, his mask having already automatically switched to night vision. He huffs. “Jay. Off.”
“Names.”
Dick scowls. “The light.”
“Deal with it,” Jason snaps. “My night vision isn’t working.”
Dick turns off his own night vision feature, if only to not be blinded by the damn flashlight if it passes over his eyes again.
That’s when Jason’s flashlight lands on where Dick is pinned.
“Crap,” Jason breathes.
“Can you move them?” Cass asks, sounding a touch more impatient, and Dick realizes that Cass has already asked once. “Your legs.”
“No,” says Dick, just barely trying. He’s tired, but he knows that time is up. He can’t get away with ignoring his own situation any longer. Probably shouldn’t have even waited this long. His legs are tingling from lack of blood flow, mixing with a sharp pain shooting through them both. Still he’s lucky, because—“I can still feel them, though.”
“We’ll lift,” Jason says to Cass, who nods. Dick closes his eyes and braces himself for the inevitable pain of rubble being lifted off his crushed legs.
“Hhh.”
The sounds he makes is nothing more than an agonized hissed through his teeth, and Dick can’t help the cold sweat that sweeps across his body in a slow wave as his siblings manage to move the slab of—wall, maybe? who knows, really—from where it’s crushing his poor legs.
Something taps against his shinbone and then his kneecap.
“Stop, stop, I feel it,” Dick gasps, bringing his legs up in a protective curl as pain throbs through most of his lower body. His left hip hurts like hell, and his every muscle, bone, and tendon feels like they’ve been squeezed and then flattened like a pancake. He rolls over onto his side so he can bring his knees up to his chest, to wait out the lingering intensity of the pain.
“Breathe,” Cass says.
Dick breathes.
He closes his eyes and blocks out everything and, again, just breathes. His siblings let him.
When he has a better grasp on his agony, Dick finally relaxes. The world filters back in. Cass is running fingers through Dick’s dusty hair (something she one hundred percent learned from Bruce, because only a select few know how much the motion tends to calm him down).
On the other hand, Dick blinks his eyes open to find Jason agitatedly pacing.
“The hell?” Jason murmurs, his flashlight whipping back and forth with his movements as he surveys their surroundings. “Did we get completely sealed in?”
Dick wishes desperately he would stop. Even without night vision, Jason’s impromptu strobe light effect is causing Dick’s head to ache. Instead of saying this, he hums contemplatively. “Wonder if there’s a signal this far down.”
Jason huffs, not slowing in the least. He’s searching for something, and dear god does Dick want him to find it already. “You’re the one with the comms in your ear. You try it.”
They’re in the sewers, is the thing. And while Bruce and Babs have designed the comms system to work incredibly well, even in the sewers, the signal still needs to be able to make it to the system in order to be functional.
With the three of them sealed in this place, seemingly with no way out, pretty deep in the sewer system where they had been disabling bombs throughout the city, Dick isn’t optimistic about their chances of getting a signal.
(They’d just been a few seconds too late for that last bomb, which unfortunately led them to their current circumstances.)
While Jason grumbles, Cass activates her emergency signal and the comms. She calls out, “Batman? Oracle?”
Jason shuts up for the five seconds before Cass looks between both Dick and Jason and shakes her head.
Dick lets out a slow exhale through his nose. He hadn’t really held out much hope for that anyways.
Jason groans. “Holy batcannoli, I can’t believe we’re stuck down here. And where’s my hecking helmet?!”
Cass helpfully points to the rubble sealing them in. Jason kicks a rock with a yell. Dick sighs.
“Well, at least you’re not alone down here,” Dick says as optimistically as he can—although, given the circumstances, it does fall a little flat.
Jason snorts. “Right. Sure, Batgirl is an asset, but you’re a sack of bruised bones right now. That’s not helpful in the slightest, Dickface.”
Dick’s eyelashes flutter of their own accord. He hums. “Too bad. Looks like you’re stuck with me. Sorry.”
“Dick,” Cass says, her fingers tracing lightly over his face. “Stay awake.”
“I am awake.”
“You’re starting to—” Cass pauses. Dick can’t see the look on her face, because somehow, his eyes have fully closed without his permission, and he can’t seem to find the strength to open them again. “—to slur.”
The sounds of Jason’s pacing stop. Silence rings loud in their sealed section of the sewers. Then, “Did he hit his head?”
“Not sure,” Cass answers.
“Dick,” Jason says, sounding quite a bit closer, like he’s maybe crouching down next to Cass or something—but Dick hadn’t heard him move, and Jason’s boots are too clunky to not make sound against the concrete. “Dick, did you hit your head?”
Dick’s eyebrows furrow, but he doesn’t open his eyes. He doesn’t remember hitting his head. The only thing he clearly remembers about the blast is heavy pieces of rubble crushing his legs. “Maybe?”
“Great,” Jason says. He’s pulling out his I’m-rolling-my-eyes-at-your-ridiculous-incompetency voice. “So my bruised bones of a big brother probably also has a concussion. Just great.”
“It’s not his fault he’s injured,” Cass tells Jason. “He was disarming the bomb.”
Which means Dick took the brunt of the blast when it was remotely activated.
Dick really means to tack onto Cass’s statement, maybe tease Jason a little and try to reassure both his younger siblings that not everything is hopeless, because he’s the best big brother ever, of course.
Only, he can’t find the strength to open his mouth and talk. Instead, the voices around him become watery, distorted, and Dick’s head flares in pain.
When unconsciousness comes to take him, he doesn’t resist.
“—manage to even find us in the first place?” is the first thing Dick hears as he swims back to consciousness. Jason almost sounds relieved.
“The seismic device didn’t just affect the sewers,” someone replies. It takes a lot of effort for Dick to recognize it as Tim. “A couple buildings partially collapsed, and since we knew the three of you were down here, it was a good starting point to look when none of you would answer the comms.”
“Huh,” is all Jason says.
“Nightwing,” Bruce says, startling Dick from the dazed lull he’d been in as he listened to his brothers talking. He opens his eyes, blinking up bewilderingly at what he can see of Bruce’s face behind the cowl.
“B?” Dick murmurs. He doesn’t move, yet, from where’s curled on his side, but he feels an abortive twitch of his fingers at the reassuring sight of Batman. “‘S goin’ on?”
“What do you remember?”
Right. Bruce did not give easy answers. Life is a series of puzzles, Dick Grayson, fueled by none other than Bruce Wayne himself.
Dick frowns and casts his mind back. “The wall blew up,” he decides. “I got hurt?”
He’s only half sure about that last one, but considering his position on the ground, the throbbing in his head and hip, and Bruce’s concerned dad frown that’s taking over his Batman grimace, Dick thinks that he’s probably on the right track.
“Concussion,” Cass says, startling Dick when she pops her head over Bruce’s shoulder. “Also, ‘a sack of bruised bones.’”
That—sounds familiar. He thinks he remembers Jason saying something like that.
Bruce’s frown gets deeper. “Straighten your legs.”
“Please,” Dick tacks on for Bruce when he lacks the manners to be nice, basically on instinct at this point, even as he—slowly, and with a great deal of agony—does what Bruce tells him to do.
They go through a couple more tests, until finally Bruce, unhappy, deems, “We need to move you.”
Dick blinks when Bruce turns away to murmur something to one of the others. A conversation washes over him, and Dick can’t help but let himself tune it out. The noise settles as vague humming—indistinct and comforting.
“—two, three,” Bruce says as Dick’s entire vision goes white.
He only manages to come back to himself in increments.
There are arms holding him tight. Familiar murmurs in his ear. The comforting sound of Batman’s heavy cape brushing against concrete.
“—there, Chum,” Bruce is saying, and if Dick had the capability, he would have teased Bruce for pulling out both the concerned dad frown and the concerned dad voice in one night.
As it is, the only thing that comes out of his mouth when he opens it are harsh pants for air. Every step jostles him, and agony is his constant companion throughout the entire journey to the surface.
Somehow, Dick is still conscious when he’s laid down in the backseat of the batmobile. He’s grateful he’s not moving anymore, and carefully doesn’t think of the upcoming ride back to the Cave.
He only really starts to relax when Bruce settles the cape over him. Wrapped up inside it, Dick almost feels like he’s ten years old again. Batman’s has always felt like warmth and protection and home. This time is no different.
“Batgirl and Robin, keep Nightwing as still as possible. Red Hood, in the front. Start updating Oracle.”
“Why do they—”
“You’re too bulky, Hood. Me and Batgirl are smaller than you. It’s still going to be a tight fit, but it’s the most comfortable for everyone this way.”
“Whatever.”
“Enough. Car. Now.”
There’s lots of careful but hurried scrambling. Dick thinks he passes out a few times on the way back. He doesn’t remember much, either. Just bits and snatches here and there—His siblings talking to him, Bruce giving orders, Jason being snappy and unwittingly dragging Tim into an argument.
And then—he wakes up. A lot more clear-headed than he’d felt the last time he’d been conscious (though, that wasn’t saying much).
To Dick’s surprise, he’s on his side again, dressed in sweats with a pillow between his legs. He opens his eyes to the Wayne Manor living room, and—yes, he’s on the couch. The curtains are drawn, but it’s clearly sometime past sunrise.
Bruce is sitting cross-legged in front of him, reading a book.
“Bruce?” Dick calls, his voice still somewhat slurred. “Why’m I on the couch?”
“You started crying when I said you had to stay in the infirmary,” Bruce tells him, grabbing a bookmark and setting his book off to the side.
Dick frowns. He doesn’t remember that. Still, he manages to say, “You’re such a pushover.”
“How do you feel?”
Dick blinks a dozen times in a row, trying to assess his body and keep up with the change in subject. “Kinda woozy. My hip hurts a lot.”
“Hn.”
“Think I need to brush up on my Bat speak,” Dick murmurs. “Dunno what that one meant.”
Bruce hums again. “You’re incredibly lucky. We’ll need to be careful for the next few weeks.”
“What’s the diagnosis, doc?”
“Crush injuries to your legs and left hip. Not overly severe, and we managed to stabilize you once we realized you were in shock.”
Dick thinks about that for a second. “Concussion? I’m pretty sure I remember something about a concussion.”
“It’s mild,” Bruce tells him. “It was the shock that was the real problem.”
“Oh.” Dick sighs into the pillow under his head. “I’m tired.”
Bruce gives him a soft smile, just slight enough that if Dick hadn’t been so familiar with Bruce’s microexpressions, he would have thought he’d been mistaken. Fingers lightly card through his hair, and Dick’s eyes start closing of their own accord.
“Then sleep,” Bruce says.
Dick sleeps.
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mochegato · 3 years
Text
Even the Losers
Chapter 7
Chapter 1     Chapter 6
Marinette rubbed her head as though the action might actually have an effect on her throbbing headache.  It hadn’t any time she’d tried it in the last hour, but it gave her brain the illusion that she was doing something to help other than just waiting for the painkillers to kick in.  The action also gave her something to focus on other than the pounding hangover from not getting nearly drunk enough last night.  Because somehow despite the massive amounts she, Jason, and Roy had drunk last night, all of her problems still existed.  Utter bullshit, that.  And now she still had to deal with all her problems and felt like crap on top of it.  Double bullshit.
She adjusted her sunglasses again, fighting the urge to squint because squinting hurt.  Although honestly, she wasn’t sure which hurt more, the florescent lights, the sunlight beaming through the hotel windows, or squinting.  She was sure there was some way to settle the glasses on her face to block out all light, she just hadn’t been able to figure it out.  She now realized why people significantly smarter than her wore those godawful, ugly glasses that wrap around their head and cut out all sun.
She took a deep breath and braced herself for the full blast of a suspiciously sunny Gotham morning. Gotham has like three sunny days a year and one of them is today?  What the Hell did she do to Tikki to deserve the last few days?  She wandered out of the hotel still contemplating revenge. How does one get revenge against a god anyway?  How many ways can she destroy cookies?
She didn’t get more than a few steps before she sensed someone in front of her.  She weaved slightly to the left but quickly realized there was someone there too.  She weaved to the right and finally looked up when she realized there was someone there. There were people all around her, taking pictures of her, shoving phones in her face as they yelled questions at her.
She stumbled back a few steps and blinked at the group of reporters that had apparently been camping out in front of the hotel for her.  She quickly plastered on one of Adrien’s patented PR smiles and nodded to them. She tried to push through them, expecting them to move out of her way, as they did in Paris for Adrien.  But reporters in Gotham clearly did not show the same respect that Parisian reporters did because none of them moved out of her way.  
Her smile strained slightly as she looked to the one in front of her.  “Excuse me, please,” she requested in the most sickeningly sweet voice she could manage.
The reporter sent back an excited smile.  “Ms. Dupain Cheng, would you care to comment on your relationship with your family? Perhaps explain why Gotham hadn’t had the pleasure of your presence before?”
Marinette looked the reporter up and down.  She looked at the group surrounding her, noting how they had closed the circle to the point of touching her.  She’d been to raves with more personal space.  She moved to push through a small gap between reporters, but stopped when they quickly closed the gap.  Marinette gritted her teeth and widened her smile.  “There’s a reason we’ve chosen not to speak about this and that reason was NOT to discuss it in an exclusive with you at this exact moment.  Now if you will excuse me, I would very, very much like to get some coffee.  I’m sure you can understand the difficulty of starting a day without it.”
She gave them a conspiratorial smile, hoping if they felt like they were in on the joke they would let her through. Instead, her response emboldened the reporters, who started shouting out her name and more questions.
“Will you attend more Wayne functions now?”
Marinette didn’t even know which reporter shouted the question to address them if she wanted.  She huffed and decided to give up on pleasantries.  She was hung over.  She was hungry.  She wanted coffee.  “Why would people change a relationship that doesn’t involve you because you know about it?” she grunted as she tried to push through the cracks between people.  
The reporters closed ranks tighter around her, making it impossible for her to break through without injuring someone, which she was sure was the plan of at least a few of them.  Whether it was to get a more salacious story or to sue Bruce Wayne, she wasn’t sure.  Probably both.  She looked back to the hotel lobby hoping the concierge would see her predicament and help her, but he was determinedly ignoring the scene in front of the hotel.
She set her jaw and prepared herself to create a scene channeling her best imitation of an irate Chloe Bourgeoisie.  She’d deal with the fallout later.  Right now, she needed to get out of this situation before someone actually did push a little too hard and tiny gods decided to curse the city.  She opened her mouth to yell but instead heard someone else’s voice boom through the crowd.
“I think my sister told you to leave her the fuck alone.”
Marinette looked around to try to find the source of the voice but couldn’t see past the wall of reporters.  She didn’t have to wait long for him to push his way through the crowd like a wrecking ball, not worrying about injuring anyone as he shoved his way through.  Jason stopped in front of her with a smirk.  “She just says it in a much more polite way than I do.”  He held up a bag and a tray of coffee.  “I come bearing gifts so you don’t have to deal with this shit out there somewhere.”  
Marinette shot him a grateful smile and turned back toward the hotel.  “That sounds brilliant.  Thank you.”
Jason winked at her.  “I got you.”
They didn’t stop or even look at each other until the elevator doors closed behind them.  Marinette leaned against the wall and finally took a full breath.  She looked over to Jason with another grateful smile.  “Thank you. I wasn’t expecting that and I…” She looked down for a moment to collect her thoughts.  “I wasn’t prepared.  I’ll do better next time.”
Jason’s eyes softened.  The press was a lot for all of them to get used to.  None of them had taken naturally to it, especially Gotham’s press.  They at least had the advantage of starting young and knowing what to expect, not to mention since they were kids, the press didn’t have a lot of chances to get to them.  Marinette had just been thrown out there without a life preserver.  Bruce didn’t even send any guards.  “Don’t worry about it.  I thought you could use the save.”
Marinette laughed and narrowed her eyes at him.  “That was a socially acceptable version of a kidnapping.  I had no way of getting out of that without exposing that there is no relationship.”
“Should have just exposed it then,” he shrugged, not remotely nonplussed by her comment.  “I just thought you could use some sustenance after last night.”  He held up the bag for her as they exited the elevator and made their way to her room.  “I know you must be used to fancy French food so I got a variety of food from the best bakery in town.  And I didn’t know how you take your coffee or if you prefer tea so I got both and lots of sugar and creamer.”
Marinette giggled as she opened her door.  “You’re not wrong.  My parents owned a patisserie.  I grew up on the best baked goods in France.”
Jason blinked a few times at her before setting the drinks and food on the coffee table.  “That’s it, next family reunion is at your place.”
“Not so sure that’s going to be a thing,” she said quietly.  She reached for one of the croissants and ripped off a small piece, popping it in her mouth.  “Not really sure I count as family.  That’s kind of been made clear.”
“Yeah well, we didn’t know and we’d like to get to know you, if you’re okay with it,” he said biting off a chunk of cheese Danish. “Look, I’m not looking for family dinners and brunches and shit, I just… want to make sure you’re okay.”  He looked up at her earnestly for a moment before his eyes turned mischievous.  “Although if you grew up in a bakery, I might want all that at your parents’ place.”
“At least you’re asking.  That’s something anyway,” she grumbled as she took another small bite.  
“Speaking of family, where is model boy?”
Marinette puckered her lips in disapproval as she watched the crumbs fall from Jason’s mouth as he spoke.  She looked away before she snapped at him.  “He and Max went apartment hunting.”
“Without you?” Jason asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Neither of them were suffering from a raging hangover that took double the normal dosage of painkillers just to take the edge off of,” she said pointedly.
“Coffee,” Jason grunted, motioning toward the coffee. “Lots of coffee and food and water.” He pushed the bag toward her. “Not the bird bites you’ve been taking.”
She studied the croissant in front of her with a furrowed brow as though it had some kind of answers for her.  She nearly dropped it when she heard a knock on the door. She looked through the peephole and gasped, flinching back from the door.  Jason immediately jumped up and ran over to her.  “What is it?  Another reporter?”
“No,” Marinette rasped out, her eyes never leaving the door.  “Worse.” Her heart started racing and her breathing became labored.  She wasn’t ready for this.  She wasn’t ready to speak with him.  What was she supposed to say?  How was she supposed to speak with him?  She didn’t even know how she felt yet.  She hadn’t sorted through this all yet.  Tears threatened to fall from her eyes.  She wasn’t ready.  This was happening too fast.
She flinched visibly when he knocked again. He’d had time to prepare.  He’d had time to think this through.  He knew how he felt about this.  He’d had time to plan and prepare.  She had none of that and here he was on her doorstep.  He knew about her and she knew nothing about him. He was ready and she wasn’t given that chance.  
She was just expected to deal with it.  She was just expected to handle it.  She was just expected to accept it.  He’d created this entire situation and she was left to pick up the pieces and move on.  And now he was here.  He was on her figurative doorstep in person and now she had to deal with it, on his timetable, according to his preference, because yet again it all had to be done on his terms.  Her preferences didn’t matter.  Her feelings didn’t matter.  Her opinion didn’t matter.
“Want me to kick their ass out?” Jason offered already reaching for the handle.
Marinette shook her head and let out a calming breath. He thinks he can come in after twenty years gone and act like everything is fine and expect her to play nice, he has another thing coming.  He wanted a detached relationship?  She could do that.  She’d seen it enough growing up with Adrien and Chloe’s parents.  She knew how to play the game.
She shook her hands to get the tension out before finally reaching out to open the door.  “Mr. Wayne.  This is an unexpected pl… experience,” she stuttered.  She mentally grimaced.  She was showing weakness.  She needed to be strong.  She plastered on a clearly fake smile.  She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of being weak.  She wouldn’t cry for him.  She hadn’t cried because of him in the twenty years he’d been absent, she wouldn’t do it now.
Bruce took a breath.  “Marinette…”  He froze for a second.  He hadn’t thought hard enough about this.  He knew what he wanted to say, what he wanted to tell her, but he hadn’t thought about how to tell her, how to lead into it.  “I was hoping to speak with you,” he rushed out, wincing internally at the sound of it.
“Well, that’s a first,” she scoffed before she could stop herself.  She slapped her hand over her mouth and mentally berated herself.  What was she doing?  She was supposed to be calm not cruel.  She was losing this game!
Jason grinned and propped his arms behind his head as he kicked out his legs, the very picture of relaxed.  “I like her.  I’m keeping her.”
Marinette shot him an appreciative smile but Bruce did a double take, frowning at the sight.  His mind raced as to what it meant that Jason was there.  Was it good?  It was good, wasn’t it?  She was getting close to one of her brothers already.  But that brother was Jason, and despite the fact that he loved Jason, he was well aware their relationship was still contentious at best.  Not exactly the best brother for her to get close to. And he was already encouraging her hostility against him.  Not that he didn’t deserve it, he knew he did, it was just that any of the other brothers would help mitigate that hostility.  Jason would fan it.  “Jason, what are you doing here?”
“Brought baked goods and coffee,” he answered casually, a smirk making its way onto his face.  “You?”
Bruce let out a heavy sigh through his nose and smoothed out his face.  Getting annoyed now would do nothing for his goal.  If Marinette was connecting to Jason, getting frustrated with him would just push her further away.  “As I mentioned, I was hoping I could speak with Marinette about the… situation.  I wanted…”
“‘The situation’,” Jason mocked shaking his head at Bruce.  God was he always this bad with his kids?  He thought it was just him.  “Way to sound sincere, B.”
Bruce’s lips pursed until they were no longer visible. He didn’t need Jason sabotaging him right now.  He was doing a good enough job of it on his own.  “I’d like to speak with Marinette on our own, please.  Why don’t you go home?”
Marinette’s eyes went wide and her chest clenched. She didn't want Jason to leave.  She wasn't ready for Jason to leave.  Once Jason left it was just her and him.  Just thinking about it suddenly she couldn't breathe.  Suddenly the air felt too thin and too heavy at the same time.  No.  She needed somebody else here.  
Jason shot a look over to Marinette, letting his eyes pass over Marinette like he hadn’t been noting her body language.  He let his eyes wander for a second before returning to Bruce with a tilt to his head.  “No.  I’m witnessing this, unless Pixie tells me to go home.”
Marinette could have kissed him… on the cheek. Because he was her br… it was complicated.  But she was beyond grateful he had spoken up for her.  She let out the breath she’d been holding and raised an eyebrow at him. “Pixie?”
“Small, violent,” Jason grinned at her.
Marinette laughed and playfully narrowed her eyes at him. “Fine, whatever, Goliath.”
Jason leaned back again.  “Oh, no, that one’s already taken.  By a dragon bat, no less.”
Marinette’s face scrunched in confusion.  She tried to search through her Americanisms for what a dragon bat could be.  It had to be a species of bat right?  Maybe? But then again it was American English so for all she knew it could be a flower.  “A what?”
“Jason!” Bruce admonished.  He was really not looking forward to trying to explain what a dragon bat was or how Damian came to be in possession of one.
Jason rose up enough to grab one of the croissants and shove half of it into his mouth before he spoke.  “I’ll introduce you sometime, or Damian will have to actually… which he won’t.  I’ll show you a picture, you seem like the kind of person who likes terrifying animals as long as they’re fuzzy.”
“I… fair,” Marinette conceded easily.
“If I can bring us back to the topic at hand,” Bruce interjected loudly, cutting off any more discussion of dragon bats.
“Family bonding, right?”  Jason cut him off with a pointed look.  “Isn’t that what we were doing?”
Bruce glared at Jason for a few seconds, which did nothing to wipe the smug smirk off his face.  Giving up on Jason, Bruce focused on Marinette.  “At the gala you mentioned you didn’t plan on being in town much longer, leaving today actually.  I was hoping I could convince you to stay a bit longer.”
Marinette examined him with a dour curiosity.  She cocked her head to the side.  “And why might that be?  You don’t need me here to make an announcement that we prefer to keep our relationship private, hence they didn’t know about me.”
Bruce let out a deep sigh.  That was fair.  It was a fair response.  Sabine had warned him she would be suspicious of him.  “This isn’t for the public,” he assured her.
“Isn’t it?”  She blinked a few times at him, her face blank.  “Are you sure?  It feels like it is.”  She turned to Jason.  “Doesn’t it feel like it is to you?”
“It does indeed,” Jason nodded in agreement, keeping eye contact with Bruce as he did.
“Jason…” he started threateningly.
“Oh, I’m sorry, were you relying on me to make fixing your fuck up easier for you?  Wrong kid.  You’re looking for Dick or Tim… actually I wouldn’t rely on Tim for help explaining why being an absentee father isn’t actually that bad.”
“Jason, I think it’s time for you to go home,” Bruce growled.
Marinette straightened up and moved between him and Jason.  She wasn’t going to let him bully Jason for standing up for her.  “I don’t think so.  So far he’s the only member of my family I like.”
“Ooh, you should totally give Cass and Steph and Duke a chance too,” Jason offered with a faked enthusiasm as though the confrontation with Bruce didn’t just happen.  He kept his eyes on Marinette but relished the increasingly frustrated scowl on Bruce’s face as they ignored him.
Marinette nodded.  “I’ll consider it.”
“Oh and Alfred… and I guess Tim too.  He’s a prick but he’s alright I guess,” Jason continued.
Marinette blinked at him.  It was like a never ending list of people.  An ongoing list of people he had taken in after walking away from her.  A long list of people he’d cared about and for without having to be pressured into it by the press.  A mile long list of people he wasn’t pretending to care about.  “How many brothers and sisters do you have?”
“We have a lot,” Jason corrected her.  They were in this together and he’d remind her of that as many times as she needed.  “Alfred isn’t a sibling though.  He’s like a grandfather.”
Marinette paused at that.  She hadn’t considered that.  Another grandfather figure.  Another grandfather that didn’t want anything to do with her.  Sure now Grand-père Roland loved her but for the first fifteen years, he’d known about her and didn’t care.  Maybe it was her.  It had to be her right?  Two grandparents, that isn’t coincidence.  That’s a pattern and the only commonality was her.  She pursed her lips together to focus on something other than the tears welling up behind her eyes.  “Sounds like the kind of person who definitely would have known about me.”
Jason’s eyes widened.  “I… don’t know the answer to that,” he answered slowly.
Marinette nodded, slowly going numb.  “So, what I’m getting from this so far is I have a another grandfather-type figure that knew about me and didn’t feel any kind of interest in me and a ton of people that my father decided were worthy of his love and affection when I wasn’t.  So it isn’t that my father didn’t want to be a father, just that he didn’t want to be my father.”
“That isn’t…” Jason started.  This was going down the wrong path.  He was trying to show her he had her back, not remind her about the pain.  But instead, now Marinette was getting hurt, remembering the pain.  She’d lost her sass and impertinence and now was moving toward hurt.  And she was blaming Alfred.  Alfred was one of the only good things about being a Wayne!
“Jason!  I think it’s time for you to go home.  Now!” Bruce roared.
Marinette contemplated Bruce coldly, numbness consuming her fears and insecurities and morphing into cold, analytic contemplation.  He was blaming Jason.  Her frustration wasn’t because of Jason or anything he said. Her pain wasn’t because of Jason, it was because of him, because of his decisions.  And instead of taking responsibility for it, he was blaming Jason.
Jason blinked a few times, no longer certain of his role in this interaction.  He looked back and forth between Marinette and Bruce, noting Marinette’s hardening features.  She was getting ready for a fight.  He could see it developing, but he wasn’t at all sure Bruce did.  He held up his hands in surrender and sat back down calmly. “I promised I wouldn’t leave unless Pixie asked me to.  I intend to keep my promise to her,” he said calmly.
Bruce glared at him again and faced back to Marinette, a fake smile plastered on.   “As I was saying.  I’d like a chance to get to know you, if you would let me.”
“And how many members of the press did you want to be there when you do?” she inquired sharply.
Bruce sighed and rubbed his forehead.  “That’s not fair.”
Marinette’s mouth dropped and she shook her head at him incredulously.  “Wow. Way to pull the rich, white guy entitlement card. ‘I know everything about this situation has been unbelievably unfair to you, but now I’m being inconvenienced in the mildest way possible and I don’t like it,’” she mocked. She rocked back on her heels and narrowed her eyes at him.  “Rest assured M. Wayne, I do not intend to speak out against you.  Your reputation will not be harmed by me.  Tell the press whatever you want.  I won’t contradict you.  You can relax.”
“Marinette…” he started, unsure of where to go. Everything she had said was so far from the truth, he didn’t know where to start.  Her view of the situation was so skewed, he didn’t know how to put it back on kilter.  His shoulders sagged in defeat.  “This has nothing to do with the press.  I had put plans in motion to get in contact with you before any of this started.  Mr. Fox will confirm that for you if you don’t trust me.  You seem like quite an impressive young lady and I would like to get to know you better, if you’ll give me the chance.”
His tone was contrite and quiet, but Marinette wasn’t done being upset yet.  She wasn’t ready to move on and let go of the anger.  “And if I wasn’t, you would continue to ignore me?  If I was a problem child, if I had social issues, if I couldn’t find a job, you’d continue to treat me like I never existed?  I’ve finally done enough to gain your attention. Oh thank you so much for letting me know.”
“That isn’t what I said,” Bruce rushed to assure her. “I meant to compliment you not say you had to earn my attention.”
Marinette pursed her lips and looked over to Jason. He was looking back at her with sympathetic, concerned eyes.  She let out a long sigh and looked away from them both.  “Look, I meant what I told the press earlier.  I had no intention of you seeing me at the gala.  I had no intention of anyone finding out about me. I didn’t even know there was anything to find out when I made the plan to come here.  And I have no expectation of anything about our relationship changing.”
Bruce perked up slightly, but focused on keeping his body language the same, so she wouldn’t see the difference.  That was an opening; expectation instead of intention. It wasn’t that she intended not to change it, it’s that she didn’t expect it.  “I do,” he assured her, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice, keeping it calm and even.  “I would like to change our relationship.  I would like the chance to explain and try to start to make it up to you.  If you would like to try.  
“If you’re open to it, I can extend your reservation until you are ready to move on, or if you would prefer, you are more than welcome to stay at the manor.  I would love to have you stay with us but I understand that may be overwhelming.  Or, WE has have some flats available, with multiple bedrooms.  You and your friends could stay there for a while.  Your friend is going to need a place to stay while he looks for an apartment, right?
“I’ll leave the choice to you.  Whether we pursue a relationship, if you stay, where you stay; they’re all your choice.  Here,” he handed her a paper with several numbers hand written on it. “These are my numbers; office, home office, cell phone, manor.  You can use any of them to contact me.”
Marinette took the paper impassively.  She squeezed her other hand in an effort to keep the tremble from being too obvious.  “Thank you, M. Wayne.  I will consider your words.”
Bruce nodded, letting the very formal use of his name wash away.  This was still progress.  This was still movement in the right direction, even if it wasn’t as much as he would want.  He knew it could take a long time.  He knew he wouldn’t be able to fix this today.  “Thank you, Marinette.  That’s all I can ask for.  And I’m sorry for ambushing you here.  I tried to call and text you all yesterday to set up a time to talk in person so you could prepare but it seems like your phone was off.”  
He let out a small breath seeing her eyes widen at his admission.  That had to be a good sign.  Maybe he actually said the right thing for once.  He nodded to her and left her to think, hoping Jason would urge her to call. He seemed to want a relationship with her as well.  Hopefully, he would realize this was the best way to get that.
Jason sighed and looked up at her as soon as the door closed behind Bruce.  “How are you feeling?”
“I’m not.  It’s… it’s a lot.  I think I want to be alone,” Marinette said absently staring at the numbers in her hand.
Jason nodded.  “It is.  I understand. If you want to talk, at all, about anything.  About where to drink in town, best burger, anything, give me a call.”  He gently took the paper Bruce had handed her out of hand, letting her decide if she gave it to him or not.  When she let go, he put his number on it as well.  “I only have one number, but now you have it.”
Marinette nodded at him.  “Thank you, Jason.”
Jason hesitated briefly.  “For what it’s worth, if you decide to stay you should take him up on the flat.  The hotel is stupid expensive and WE offers the flat to visiting collaborators all the time, so it’s not like it’s all that special… if you want to avoid being treated special.”
Marinette nodded at his words, barely taking them in as her mind tried to fight the numbing process.  Jason watched her tentatively.  “You look like a hugger,” he said uncertainly.  “Did you… do you want a, um, a hug?”  
Marinette looked over at him and blinked a few times, not sure how to take his words, partly because he seemed unsure of them himself, but partly because things were having a harder time permeating her brain right now. ��Jason took her curious look as doubt.  “Oh come on. It’s fine.  I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it.  Trust me.  I tell Dick to fuck off enough when he tries to hug me.  I have no problem saying no to hugs I don’t want.  I’m offering because I mean it.”
Marinette blinked a few more times but finally nodded vacantly.  Jason pulled her into a warm, comforting hug.  After a few moments he pulled away.  “It will all be okay.  No matter what you decide, it will all be okay.  And no matter what you decide, I’m here.  Nobody’s replacing you as my sister.  So get ready for some completely inappropriate Christmas presents this year.”
Marinette smiled absently at his joke, her eyes never meeting his.  “Thanks, Jason.”  She leaned against the door after she closed it behind him and slid down it, staring blankly at nothing.  The room felt colder than it was before, but she couldn’t manage to care enough to get up and get a blanket.  She thought there might have been ambient noise going on around her but none of it registered.  Nothing registered.  Not the numbing sensation that was rapidly overtaking her body from her fingers and toes up to her head until she stopped feeling anything.  Not even the point she was staring at.  She didn’t know how long she stared at the nothingness before black overtook her vision and she passed out.
Chapter 8
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marauderundercover · 3 years
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Crashed Dates (Day 2: Scarecrow)
Marinette grins at her boyfriend, swinging their intertwined hands back and forth as they walk around the pumpkin farm. It was so nice, finally being able to go on cute dates like this. They’d first started dating while he was in Paris on business, around a year ago. Sure, he’d made trips to Paris and she’d made a few to Metropolis, but it was different now that she had moved to Gotham. Now they were able to go on random, unplanned dates, instead of dates that had been planned for weeks. He was definitely worried when she first told him she was moving to Gotham, but she had reassured him that it would be fine. (Not that she had a choice in the matter, Tikki had informed her on her last trip to Metropolis that Gotham was sick, that it was calling out for help and that as the Guardian, it was her job to help it). Gotham was….interesting, but she’d settled in just fine in the two weeks she’d been there.
And so, when he had called her out of the blue to tell her he found a place he thought she’d love, she made sure she had enough layers and jumped at the chance for a day with him. So far, the day had been absolutely perfect. They’d drank hot apple cider, ate warm donuts, taken a trip around the farm on the hayride- everything was great. But for some reason, her amazingly stubborn boyfriend didn’t want to go into the corn maze. 
“Please! You’ll be my favorite person in the whole world.” She begs again, her grin quickly switching into a pout. She keeps pouting, leaning against his arm, until he sighs.
“Fine, we can do the maze.” He says and she cheers, standing on her toes and tugging him down slightly to give him a quick kiss. 
“You are the best!” She says, over enunciating every word. He just grins, giving her another soft kiss. 
“If we get lost, I’m calling the Demon Spawn to come get us out. Pretty sure he has a tracker on my phone.” Jason says, letting her tug him along towards the maze. She just rolls her eyes, grinning. 
“You know you’re secretly touched that he cares enough to track you.” She teases as they near the entrance of the maze.
“Yeah, yeah.” He grumbles, glaring at the scarecrow situated at the entrance of the maze. Marinette raises an eyebrow. 
“You have a problem with men made of straw?” She asks, legitimately confused by his reaction. 
“Geeze M, I knew you were new to Gotham but I forget how new.” He says, pulling her closer. She melts into him, still confused by his reaction, but happy to be close. As they walk through the maze, frustratingly running into deadends, Jason explains Scarecrow. Marinette decides that he’s number two on the list of villains she never wants to meet. Joker is number one. (Joker is also number one on the list of villains she wants to meet, but that’s because she’s always wondered what it would look like to cataclysm a psychotic clown). She’s just about to suggest they call Damian and utilize the tracker that was, undoubtedly on Jason’s phone, when the screaming begins. 
“There isn’t a haunted house here, is there.” Marinette says, her face pale. She wasn’t ready to be a hero again. She’d only defeated Hawkmoth a year ago. Just before meeting Jason. She didn’t want that part of her life again, not now. 
“No, no there’s not.” Jason says, eyes glancing around wildly. Marinette’s heart breaks at the panic on his face. She knew that, despite his tough guy appearance, he struggled. A lot. He had nightmares, constantly, mostly of the time Joker had kidnapped him (hence the whole, cataclysm Joker thing). Pushing down her own fear and doubt, she tightens her grip on his hand and squares her shoulders. 
“Come on.” She instructs, tugging him behind her as she darts through the maze, determined to get out. She stumbles over a rock and lets go of Jason’s hand in time for her to fall into a larger clearing. She curses as she falls, her palms stinging. 
“What have we here?” A voice says. Marinette sits up, staring up at a man in a scarecrow costume and suddenly, Jason’s fear, or rather, dislike, of scarecrows makes more sense. So much more sense. She glances around and lets out a sigh of relief. She’d let go of Jason quick enough. He wasn’t caught up in this. Hopefully, he could call his father. She wasn’t sure if the rumors about Bruce Wayne and Batman dating were true, but Batman was always quick to interfere if it was a Wayne or Wayne adjacent involved. 
“A girl who’s a little pissed that you crashed her date.” She retorts, standing up and brushing her stinging palms off on her jeans. She’d have to get the blood out later, which would be a pain. Better than having the blood on her palms mix with the dirt that also now covered her hands. 
“You’re either very brave or very stupid, little girl. Let’s see how you deal with my newest strain of fear toxin.” He says, and she lunges towards the man, not willing to go down without a fight. Almost immediately, a sharp pinch on her neck has her stumbling back away from the man as she tries to take in her new surroundings. 
She was back in Paris, but it wasn’t the Paris she had left. The city that was healing. Instead this Paris was underwater. Buildings were toppled over, and the moon was in pieces in the sky. She was back there. A place she hadn’t seen in person since she was fourteen, a place that had haunted her nightmares for ten years. She inhales sharply when she sees him. Chat Blanc. But instead of fear, she’s just angry. This isn’t real. It can’t be. Adrien Agreste was Chat Noir. And Adrien was….turning, she realizes that she can almost see him. Out of the corner of her eye, she can almost see Scarecrow, watching her. Waiting for her to react. Anger coursing through her, she charges the man, tackling him all the way to the ground. She pulls back her fist and punches him, repeatedly. 
“How dare you! How dare you use his face like that! You son of a bitch!” She screams as she hits, the roaring in her ears blocking out all other sounds. She keeps her focus on feeling the man she’s hitting, because the second she lets her focus wander, she gets sucked into her surroundings again. The way the sky just looks wrong. The odd haze over everything. And now, the corpses floating in the water closest to her. Adrien. Maman. Papa. She’s not scared, she’s pissed. Sure, those were her biggest fears and that’s definitely why she was seeing them all like that, but she’d already seen it. She’s lived it. They were gone, not coming back. And she sure as hell wasn’t going to fall down and break about it. Not when some asshole with fear toxin was running around randomly injecting people. Suddenly, something is wrapped around her and she’s pulled up. She kicks frantically, trying to get out of the steel grip she’s trapped in. She had to- what did she have to do? Another sharp pinch in her neck makes her eyes droop sleepily. She struggles again, barely able to hear the voice calling her name as she succumbs to the darkness.
---
Jason Todd feels like a major prick. He watched his girlfriend trip and instead of helping her up, he uses it as a distraction to try and call B. How the fuck was he supposed to know she tripped right into the Scarecrow? He’s cursing himself mentally as he rushes towards the ambulance. Replacement had texted him. 
Marinette was injected. At ambulances near front of farm
And Jason felt like shit. She’d never forgive him, not that he deserved it. He’d left her with one of Gotham’s biggest villains. His heart sinks when he sees the blood on her, and the oxygen mask attached to her face. Fuck. He’s almost to her, when one of the asshole cops stops him. 
“Excuse me, sir, you can’t go over there.” He says and Jason scowls. 
“Like hell I can’t. She’s my girlfriend, let me through.” He says, and the man shakes his head. 
“Family only.” He states. Jason’s about to argue, when a hand lands on his shoulder. 
“I still need to get a statement from Mr. Todd, if you’ll excuse us.” Replacement says, leading him away from the cop. 
“I left her.” He says, the second they’re far enough away. Tim frowns.
“What do you-”
“I mean, I left her. She tripped and instead of checking on her, I was a complete and total asshole and left her so I could call B to get his ass over here and solve the goddamn problem.” Jason says, feeling like even more of an asshole now that he’s said it out loud. 
“Did you see Scarecrow?” Replacement asks. Jason scoffs. 
“Of course not! You really think I would’ve left if I had?” He asks with a glare. 
“No, I don’t. So stop blaming yourself. I literally peeled her off of Scarecrow, she was beating the crap out of him. She’s gonna be tired and scared and confused when she wakes up. Just be there-”
“Jason!” Her terrified voice echoes out and Jason turns, sprinting for the cot he’d seen her on a minute ago. She had ripped the oxygen mask off her face and was looking around while arguing with the paramedic. 
“Ma’am please-” “Marinette!” Jason calls, and her face relaxes as she leaps off the cot and launches herself into his arms. He holds her as she shakes, sobs wracking her body. 
“I saw them.” She mumbles once she calms down a little. He frowns. 
“Saw who?” He asks. 
“My parents. Adrien. Their bodies.” She says, and suddenly, Jason has another name to add to his kill list. Being a complete asshole to all of Gotham, sure. Making his girlfriend see the bodies of those she’d lost? Nope. Now the bastard better hope he didn’t meet Red Hood in an alley. 
“God, Mari, I am so sorry. I’m so sorry I left.” He apologizes, his heart aching when she pushes him away. She frowns up at him and he winces, certain she’s about to break up with him. 
“Left?” She asks and he nods. 
“When you tripped, I swear, I didn’t know Scarecrow was there.” He says. 
“But you got Batman here.” She says and he jerks back. How the hell had she figured it out? When did she- “I know Bruce said he isn’t dating Batman, but honestly, I think he’s just in denial.” She adds. 
“I- what?” 
“Batman always comes when anyone in the Wayne family is in danger. Like, so quickly. And I know that Bruce says it’s just a bunch of rumors, like the whole ‘the butts match’ thing? But I also think that Batman is head over heels for Bruce, and your dad is just kinda clueless.” She rambles. Jason just laughs before pulling her into a deep kiss. She was okay. They were okay. He pulls back and grins at her, until he notices the blood again. 
“Shit, that’s a lot of blood.” He says, taking her hand in his to try and find the source. He glances at her face and raises an eyebrow at the blush that had taken over her face. 
“Oh, um, it’s not mine.” She mumbles. 
“Then who-” “Apparently I beat the hell out of Scarecrow. In my defense, that fear toxin sucked. And I was kinda pissed.” She says, frowning down at the blood on her hands. Jason takes one of his hands and gently tilts her chin up so that she’s looking at him again. He grins at her, giving her a short, soft kiss before pulling back. 
“I love you.” He says, and if the kiss she gave him in return meant anything, she felt the same way.
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Bruce Wayne and his Army of Children
Batsibling fic
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Bruce Wayne has many children and they all have their own personalities.
Dick the oldest of them was cherry compared to the others.
Jason while brooding does love all of his siblings.
Y/n the middle child Cherry and brooding.
Tim never sleeps, good with tech, smart.
Damien has his good and bad moments.
Duke is sweet still dealing with things.
Cass is quiet but the sweetest kid.
All of them has one thing in common:
1. Piss of their dad or Alfred and you’re in trouble
2. Injure or hurt the middle child YOU DIE
Bruce never understood how that became the rules but it is.
But he thinks about it with fondness.
Especially when his children scared Superman!!
It was a JL meeting and Bruce had decided to bring you. When you had walked in you where feeling in a bad mood and Superman had rubbed you the wrong way.
Bruce can’t remember what he said. But you had just given him a stick eye and said:
“Not all of us can be aliens, wrapped in their baby blankets”
But Bruce could tell you were in a bad mood.
What Bruce didn’t see was after you sent your siblings a text in the group chat:
“Superman is a asshole”
And instead of responding.
The tower was seemingly overrun with bats.
ANGRY BATS!!
All of the children glaring at Superman.
“You are a dead man walking supes”
——————————————————————
Bruce laughed remembering how your brothers and sister had used a light amount of kryptonite and beat the crap out of Clark.
With the final warning
“Dont piss off the bats”
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geekkatsblog · 4 years
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The Batfamily dealing with their kidnappers. I have a headcanon that the Wayne's and anyone considered close to them have been kidnapped so many times it's become routine for them.
Barbra
Barbra: What kind of trap is this??? A four year old could get through this. I honestly don't think the crime life is for you. Not if you keep making baby traps.
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Jason
Jason: Who the hell kidnaps someone with a knife. Get a gun next time you losers. Out of all the kidnappers I've seen you guys are the most pathetic.
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Dick
Dick: Could you please stop by a McDonald's or something before we get to wherever you're taking me? We've been driving for a few hours and its past dinner time I'm starving.
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Tim
Tim: You guys couldn't kidnap me like in 4 hours or so? Its 10 in the morning. I literally haven't even had my 1st cup of coffee. You guys suck.
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Stephanie
Stephanie: Wait.... You guys are here to kidnap me? Well I mean technically it wouldn't be kidnapping because I'm not a Kid. Teennaped maybe? No that sounds dumb, just give me a sec I'll come up with a good pun I promise.
The kidnappers: .......... The hell is wrong with this girl?
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Cassandra
Kidnapper: Get in the car and no one gets hurt.
Cass: ........
Kidnapper: ......... on second thought I'll take one of your brothers instead, your youngest brother should still be at school right?
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Duke
Duke: Do you have a TV in here? I'm missing the new episode of Grey's Anatomy and I really need to know if Link or Owen is Amelia's baby daddy.
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Damian
Damian: I suggest you release me at once then run, because the fact that these cuffs are made of genuine leather pretty much guarantees that when I escape from here I will kill you slowly and painfully.
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Bruce
Bruce: Could you not break the phone please? I just got it last week. Just leave it here in my office before you take me.
Kidnapper: ......... You're not scared? We're holding you at gunpoint?
Bruce: Scared? I should be thanking you, you're giving me a break from my kids they've been bugging me all week I was on the verge of killing them.
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Alfred
Alfred: What were you raised in a barn? That was a 100% silver platter that you have just dented and you have just wasted the hours I spent making those homemade biscuits. You will clean this mess at once.
Kidnapper: I'm sorry sir I'll clean it right away.
A few hours later
Bruce: Um Alfred who is this?
Alfred placing another glass of juice in front of the still masked kidnapper. : It was all just a big misunderstanding sir and the young chap has learnt his lesson hasn't he.
Kidnapper: Yes sir.
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Alfred has the power to make any villan stop in there tracks and no one can convince me otherwise.
Also Cassie scares the crap out of people.
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batfamspews · 3 years
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Red Robin and Jason have been battling each other in an abandoned building for the past fifteen minutes and the fight ended with Jason victorious and Tim flat on his back on the ground. Both of them are bleeding and have several internal wounds.
Jason: *going to jump out of a nearby window* It’s been fun, replacement! Though I have to admit, I think you’re getting a little rusty. You used to be so strategic, but now you’re just pure chaos. I like the change but it makes you pretty easy to beat. Probably should start thinking things through again.
Tim: *deadpan, unflinching, staring at the ceiling*
Jason: *Confused because just a couple of seconds ago Tim was bustling with squirrel-like energy* Hey man, you good?
Tim: Yeah man just rethinking my life.
Jason: Ah. *goes to jump out the window but then hesitates and looks back at Tim. Not a single muscle in his body has flinched. Jason figures he had better stick around and keep an eye on him since he’s pretty sure he heard bones breaking during their fight and he wants to make sure he didn’t paralyze or give Tim brain damage.* You wanna talk about it? *goes and sits down next to Tim*
Tim: Eh, life sucks, you know? Fight all night, work all day, study. I’m supposed to be the smart one, right? What if I can’t keep up? What if I crack and lose it? What if someone smarter comes along? Besides, I can’t help but feel like I’m just ticking every one off.
Jason: *surprised but slightly amused that his straight-rod, genius brother would have such a poor opinion of himself* Heeeey, come on, little Red! You don’t suck that much! I mean, I do get sick and tired of your virtuous crap every once and a while, hence me beating you to a bloody pulp right now, but you’ve got a good head and heart! What’s making you feel so down?
Tim: …
Tim: Tried to make supper the other night. Alfred got food poisoning. He’s still in the hospital.
Jason: So you’re guilty?
Tim: *smiles* Yes but that’s just a part of it. I’m in charge of making my own food now, but since I’m scared that I’ll poison myself I’ve only been drinking a concoction I made up a while ago that I know won’t kill me.
Jason: Yeah? What?
Tim: Iced coffee made with Red Bull instead of water.
Jason: …
Jason: ……. .. . …
Jason: That sounds disgusting
Tim: It absolutely is.
Jason: How long has this been going on?
Tim: About a week?
Jason: ??? And that’s all you’ve had?
Tim: I mean, I ate some Nachos last night and I have an emergency stash of pop tarts in my room that I finished off the first two days.
Jason: ???????
Jason: AND YOU DONT EAT OUT WHY???
Tim: *shrugs* The Red Bull iced coffee gives me energy. Kinda sucks though because I crash when it wares off and have another identity crisis. I should really get some more before the tremors.
Jason: CHRIST TIMOTHY I THOUGHT YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE SMART???
Tim: You know, there’s a line between intelligence and wisdom- oh crap here they come. Totally jinxed myself.
*Jason stares in disbelief as Tim’s whole body starts shaking. He start to say something but Tim- doubled over in pain- holds up a hand to make him wait. The tremors stop after a few seconds.*
Tim: I should probably grab some more coffee or something before that happens again. You wouldn’t happen to have an energy drink on you, wouldja? I’d get some myself, but I’m pretty sure you broke something in my leg and it hurts to move it.
Jason: For the love of God, Tim, you need professional help. Call Bruce to come pick you up???
Tim: I don’t really feel like talking to Bruce right now. I don’t want to get lectured again.
Jason: …
Jason: Fair enough, but I’m not leaving you here like this. I may not be an exceptional brother or anything but I’m pretty sure it would be considered child abuse if I let you torture yourself this way.
Tim: *laughs* you just broke my bones and beat me into submission.
Jason: you were being annoying.
Tim: And besides, Bruce doesn’t stop me.
Jason: IF YOU THINK FOR ONE SECOND THAT IM GOING TO LET YOU PUT ME ON THE SAME LEVEL AS THAT MAN THEN YOU ARE DEAD WRONG. *Basically picks Tim up*
Tim: ??? Where are we going?
Jason: TO MY APARTMENT SO YOU CAN GET THE PROFESSIONAL CARE THAT YOU REALLY NEED.
Tim: Bruce is gonna be ticked. I’ve still got another hour on patrol.
Jason: IF YOU THINK FOR A SINGLE GOSHDANG MOMENT THAT IM GOING TO LET YOU STAY OUT HERE WITH A BROKEN BONE AND CAFFEINE-INDUCED SEIZURES THEN YOU ARE DEAD WRONG!
Tim: I don’t wanna tell him that-
Jason: GOOD BECAUSE I DO. HOLY COW, TIM, ARE THE OTHERS AS BAD OFF AS YOU ARE?
Tim: I mean? Dick’s been out of town so I’m gonna assume he’s doing fine. The Kents have invited Damian’s vegan butt into their household until Alfred recovers. Pretty sure Babs, Steph and Cass are surviving on hot pockets and chicken nuggets.
Jason: NOT MY GOOD GOOD GIRLS! That’s it, you’re coming home with me and are not leaving until you are fully recovered. I’m gonna call the girls too. Tonight you four are going to have a round, home cooked meal. *carries him down the stairs* Geez, kid, you’re skin and bones. On no accounts should you be this light. And you look like a zombie! Is this just the malnutrition, or are you not sleeping either?
Tim: I mean, I’ve passed out a couple of times…
Jason: TIMOTHY DRAKE WAINE
Tim: The caffeine made sleeping virtually impossible, though now that it’s wearing off I do feel a bit drowsy…
Jason: Normally I would not give an idiot like you the permission to rest while I’m helping them out but for the love of everything that is holy, Timothy, go to sleep!
Tim: Dope. *immediately passes out*
Jason brings Tim to his apartment and puts him on the couch. Jason already has a nutritious vegetable and beef stir fry ready for the girls when they arrive. He’s also made broth that Cass spoon-feeds Tim when he wakes up shaking. They’ve all turned off their coms, so when Batman desperately calls Red-Hood’s home phone for help, Jason tells him what a horrible father he’s been lately and that even a problem child like himself would make a better parent. Cass, Steph and Babs leave after supper, but have agreed with Jason to eat lunch and supper at his place until Alfred got back. Jason called Nightwing up, told him the situation and asked him to come back to Gotham to deal with Bruce. The next morning Jason brought Tim to the hospital to get an X-ray done on his leg. When they found out it was fractured, Jason arranged for a very exhausted but thankful Tim to stay at his apartment until it healed, even when Alfred recovered. During that period he was able to break Tim’s eating habits and introduce him to healthier options. According to Jason, “I might be a ‘danger to society’ and a ‘homicidal maniac,’ but at least I can make a half decent home cooked meal for my poor starving siblings!”
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inomana · 4 years
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Damian Wayne and Pets
I think Damian's love for animals is more important than more important than what we make it out to be
Like I get that it's cute and it helps portray him as a kid but
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Its what humanized him...
Damian's entire life it was 'kill or be killed' but Goliath showed him mercy. It probably broke him to see someone forgive him.
It's also pretty obvious he projected himself onto Gotiath, calling it the runt, saying he had it had to honor the family cause, fight for family...
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Damian ends up sparing em and In turn Goliath protects him.
Goals amiright?
Damian gets a lot of shit from fans for having a crap personality completely forgetting his situation.
This boy was raised as a weapon, he was not given any real childhood experiences.
From the moment of being born he was given tasks endlessly to commit wrongdoings which he'd later normalize until the point in his life where he had to meet his father.
Even then the very first thing Bruce did was completely view this child as a problem. He thought it could have been the Trap or something set up by Talia so he completely just told this kid to change in the blink of the eye.
Bruce basically told Damien everything he's ever he's ever known as a child was a lie and he had to change if he wanted to stay.
Then all hell breaks loose he changes and the time comes where he has to choose between his mother the person raised him and his father the person gave morals and he's put in a very tight situation.
People think just because he chose the right side, the heroic side with his father that he didn't lose anything. He abandon his mother the person who he's been with for 10 years.
Like yeah she's horrible but she's kept him alive considerably well for that time. Damian even said that he would hope that his parents would just stay together instead of choosing between them. She all he has for years.
Then you have his brothers which I love dearly but, Dick who kind of gave him the cold shoulder until he realized he didn't want to have a Timothy and Jason situation repeat again.
Or Tim, Damian's Grandfather himself called the equivalent to Batman and is known as the real detective of the four it's one of his biggest competitions.
And Jason who is a constant reminder of his mother's teaching, and the aftermath of the pit
So even after escaping such a horrible situation that was the League of Assassins he was still in a very tight place where everything had to do was supposed to be by the book or else he would just be compared to someone else or something and dude
Growing up he's constantly dealing with all these horrible situations and then one day while he's fighting and fighting for real something just doesn't it just shows him kindness shows in the form of love licks his nose.
It's probably something you didn't experience as a child because he'll nose Talia never showed him in a love
And it just keeps happening where animals are treating him better than people around him. He finds a loving dog that sticks by him, a cow he saves to a slaughterhouse, he finds a cat that listens to him. He finds these stable like relationships and it helps him become a better person it's practically therapeutic.
I personally don't think Damian is my favorite character Jason for Life man, but there's a struggle with his character that I can never understand and I sympathize with that because I'm not an douchebag.
He's 13 and he's already had to make the world's craziest Life Choices, killing people, abandoning his parents, change his lifestyle, he's leading a group of crazy super-powered teenagers in a t-shaped building, he's even died and come back to life.
Damian is a very complex character and people are throwing him to the curb because of the person his mother designed to be , and yeah he makes little snide comment every once in awhile, dose wrong and messes up, but he's still always helping people to the best of his ability. Sometimes it's just not the right way to do it. It's not fine but it's not terrible.
So here's my point
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Give this kid a chance,
And also fuck DC
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internalsealpanic · 3 years
Text
Love Through the Ages (Tim Drake)
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Summary:  Love like baggage needs to be declared.
a/n: This is part two of a series that is a fic rec list disguised as a fic. For these fics, most of the characters will be speaking different languages, so unless specified otherwise assume that the characters are speaking in the first language I mention. They’re all vampires with centuries under their belt. Why wouldn’t I make them all polyglots.  Also, thank you to the proof reading gang for putting up with my shenanigans.  I will have links to the fics I recommend in the fic itself.
Warnings: Everyone is dramatic.
Masterlist
Series Masterlist. 
You watch the rusty green of the warehouse wall disappear behind a spray of orange paint. There is nothing more satisfying than watching paint make old things new. 
A whistle interrupts your reverie, making the can slip from your hand. You swear, the harsh syllables echoing in the empty air. The can bounces down the scaffold and lands in someone’s hands. Tim’s face gets sprayed with a mist of orange. He makes a noise and rubs at his face. You bark out a laugh and he grimaces at you. The begrudging fondness obvious on his face. 
He waves at you, eyes still stinging from the paint. Giddiness flourishes in your chest. “I knew I’d find you here!” He shouts in a dialect of Mandarin that you hadn’t heard in ages.
It takes you a moment to understand him. You’re honestly extremely rusty. It takes you another moment to realize that it made no sense for him to find you. “How?” You shout back in Romanian. 
Tim shakes his head, throwing his hand over his shoulder. “Open canvas.”
You snort, looking down at him. Tim’s breath catches as he stares up at you, your smile. You’re haloed by sunlight. You look like an angel descending from heaven.
Tim’s forced to pick up his jaw when he hears your voice again. You’re tapping your watch. The words are lost to him.
“What?!”
You shake your head, strands of hair coming loose from behind your ear. “I asked...” You shout in a coarse frawl. “... Isn’t it a bit early for you to be here?”
It was. 
He was only 30 minutes early. No big deal. 
He shrugs. “I just wanted to watch you paint.” He says, trailing off. Oh God, Tim thinks. Does he sound lovesick? Is Cassie right? He pushes the thoughts down, opting to look at the building instead. On the side of the building was an immaculate portrait of the Red Hood rendered like a saint, haloed in golden light and surrounded by your orange marigolds. It would look at home in any grand cathedral. Your talents never ceased to amaze him.
“Should I ask why you’re defacing a building?”
You turn back to the building picking up a can of yellow paint. You tilt your head. “It’s a massive improvement, yes?”
Tim looks around. The pavement is littered with wet trash mixed. The buildings were rusted. Everything else is covered in grime. “You’re rude…  but not wrong.”
You preen, electing to ignore the first half. You turn back to your canvas before Tim can get another word in. He knows he’s lost you. 
“So, why *the* Red Hood?” 
You look away from the portrait, setting the can of yellow spray paint. It sprays your sweatshirt and Tim laughs. You stick your tongue out at his face flushing. You liked this sweatshirt. He gave it to you the last time you had meandered into Gotham. “Why not? We’re in the Bowery. He’s like a saint here.” You snip, switching to Russian. Ok, that made sense. You toss your sweatshirt into Tim’s face. The fabric is lousy with the smell of paint and of 5-hour energy drinks. It was an improvement over the pungent odor of garbage. 
He tries to rub the orange paint on his face away before he tucks your sweatshirt beneath his arm. You’re still looking down at him, wry amusement on your face. “I’ll paint your beloved Red Robin when I get to China Town. Heard he was quite popular in those parts.”
Tim’s heart flutters.  He stutters out his next question. “Why are you using spray paint for this type of illustration?”
“Kon said I couldn’t do it.”
Tim snickers, “As if Kon could tell the difference.”
You frown only realizing your mistake. You curse under your breath. Tim doesn’t stop laughing at you. “Shut up!” You snarl.
Tim dodges the next paint can you throw but the next one hits him square in the face. You grin triumphantly. Tim raises a middle finger at you and you giggle in response. You feel bad, seeing him wince in pain. You’d buy him apology tea later but for now, you clasp your hands and call out to him sweetly. “Sorry, Timmers!”
Tim, equally as mature and well aware that you’re only half sorry, blows out a breath, muttering something colorful before shouting back: “we should get going if we wanna eat out after looting the museum.”
At that, you launch yourself off the scaffolding, your body feeling weightless as it falls. Tim drops your sweatshirt as he holds his arms out to catch you. He catches you easily. You two spin as you wrap your arms around him. 
“You are certifiably insane.” He laughs. His nose smooshed against yours. 
“And so are you.” You snort, hugging him. 
He hugs you back. You hum so softly into his hair that Tim wouldn’t be able to tell it from a breath if he were human.  Tim holds you close, hugging your waist tightly. He doesn’t really want to let you go. You don’t either.  You and Tim stand there for a bit when you hear his cell beep. 
“Why does your phone sound like a pager?” 
“Because Babs told me how to.”
“That literally explains nothing.”
“I’m not taking crap from the gremlin who had ‘Baby Shark’ as their ringtone for 12 months. WILLINGLY.”
You pout at him, your face so close to his. Tim’s only half paying attention to your defense. To be fair, it basically boiled down to ‘it isn’t that bad’ and ‘Bart’s ringtone is worse’. 
After a short shopping trip and a cab ride later, you arrive at the museum in fresh clothes and less paint on his face for Tim. 
“All the World’s a Stage. They botched it! The nerve! The barbarity of it all. It's just like when they botched ‘Words with Friends’ or ‘In Ice We Trust’ or even ‘Tomcat’. That last one was pretty much gift wrapped for them!” You say throwing up your hands nearly hitting Tim and whatever poor bastard was unlucky enough to be behind you. 
“For someone who isn't invested in modern media, you're getting fired up.” Tim chuckles, eyes flickering behind you. You had managed to miss the people behind you but you do have a rather conspicuous space behind you. 
“They had such good material to work with”  you say, gesticulating wildly. “And- and they butchered it.”
“You need a 5 minute breather?” Tim asks, resting a hand on your back. 
 “Shut up,” you laugh.
Tim grins at you as if he had no idea what this ultimate betrayal feels like. 
Determined to prove him wrong, you say : “C'mon, Timothy,  you ranted like this when they botched the star thingy.”
“It’s Star Wars, you heathen.”
“Star. Thingy.” You repeat, crossing your arms. 
Tim squints at you. You know he’s not gonna blow up at you but somehow that’s scarier. 
“You can pay for your own cab later.” He grumbles. 
“Star. Thing-Y.” 
Tim turns to leave. This always worked. Always without fail, you grab at his hand, lacing your fingers with his. Tim tries not to smile.
“Fine.”
“Was that so hard?”
“It was excruciating actually.”
“You're being dramatic.” He says, showing the woman behind the ticket counter your passes. 
“Excuse me, I left all my drama in the Renaissance.”
“Oh really?”
“Ok not really but admit that both Andromeda and Stars, Forgive Me have better writing.“ You bite out.
 “I- That’s unfair,” he says. You raise your brow in response. 
“...”
“Fine,” he sighs. “But admit that Andromeda should have been named ‘Space Whores’.”
You squint at him then smile. “Oh abso-posi-tute-ly.”
 “Have you seen this dirty old hockey mask?” You ask, tapping the glass as if the hockey mask would react if you just agitate it enough. 
 “What is that?” Tim asks, looking over your shoulder. His brows crinkles when he sees the mask. “How is that romantic?”
You hum. “Ask the curator?” You suggest, looking around. He was usually out and about. He could never sit still even if he tried. You lean down narrowing your eyes at the plaque. “Says here some dude called Jason terrorized 3 kids over summer.”
“That’s very romantic for our Jay to do.” Tim says, crossing his arms and switching to Cantonese. It was a weird habit but you knew why. Apparently for all Jason’s skill in languages he somehow could not get a handle on Cantonese. 
 “Not that Jason.” You say, smirking. 
“You sure?” Tim asks, leaning closer to you. 
You snicker,  “As in character as that would be...”
“True,” he says, edging closer and closer to you. You rock on your heels nervously at the proximity. “It’s a shame, I thought there would be a machete to match too…” You can feel Tim’s breath on your cheek. 
“OH LOOK AT THIS.” You say twisting away and pointing to a black and white photo. Tim’s hands leave his sides to grab for you, to pin you to his chest, but he has enough self control not to. Instead, he follows you.
“It’s just a man and a woman in business suits. Yanno something you can see in any metropolitan city.”
“Yes but,” you say, tracing a nonsensical pattern into the air, “I’ve heard a story about this, they were both extremely rich and heads of their companies, went from enemies to lovers - my all time favourite.” 
Tim looks closer at the photo of the man and woman with their backs to the camera just holding hands along the NYC sidewalk. It’s cute. “I thought your favorite was lovers to enemies.”
“Well of course, it is! The drama, the absolute tragedy. It’s better than any trope in existence. But I love that this is just black and white. You don’t need anything else to indicate they’re in love with each other.”
Tim is all too tempted to point out that that likely wasn’t intentional, that it was a limitation of the time, but the look in your eyes robbed him of his breath, so he swallowed his thoughts. 
Your eyes rove over the room frantically in search of something. 
“So is there any reason you wanted to go to this exhibit instead of watching lavalantula 10 in theaters?” Tim says, tapping another case. 
You turn to look at him, shock etched into your features.“10? We've seen lavalantula 1 through 9 in theaters? Why did I agree to that?”
“Cus you love me?”
You narrow your eyes at him. “Probably not.”
Tim gives you a hurt look. 
You scowl at him. You have no idea why everyone thinks he’s the nice Wayne sibling. He is a manipulative little shit who plays you like a fiddle. And yet here you are falling for it. An absolute buffoon. 
You grumble an apology under your breath before continuing. “This is more cultural Timmers and lord knows we need more culture.” You wave sarcastically. 
“I think we've lived enough culture.”
“it cannot hurt to experience more Tim,” you snort. He rolls his eyes. You grab onto his arm and look up at him bright eyed. Two can play it at that game. “Please Tim....”
He scowls at you. “Fine-”
“Yes!”
“-but you owe me a movie marathon.”
“Fine. Fine,” you nod, “just don’t pick something dumb.”
“I just got the new star trek box collection.” He beams. 
“You could just shove me into a grave.” You sigh dramatically. 
Tim grins. “The Renaissance called-”
“Oh fuck you, Grackle.”
He snorts and you hate that you fall in love with him more every time he laughs. 
You cross your arms giving him a hard look. “Fine but we have to have an intermission of my choice.” You say, offering a hand. 
“Deal.” He says, shaking your outstretched hand. 
“Great, you've just agreed to watch the Great British Baking Show with me.” You say smug. 
Tim curses himself. 
"Are you still looking for that one painting?"
You tip your body back to look at him, your eyes wide and startled. It takes no time at all for them to shift to their usual angry shape. "Yes," you say quietly. It's Tim’s turn to be startled. Your hands curl into a fist. "It wasn't done and those bastards took it." 
Tim reaches out to put his hand on your shoulder. 
You cast your hands up to the sky dramatically.  "The barbarity of it all!"
Tim smiles, letting his hand fall to his side. You would be ok. 
You two walk on as Tim rants about StarGate  could have had a bigger fanbase if it hadn’t excluded so many people. You add StarGate to the list of things to not remember. 
You stop.
Your heart presses a bruise in your throat. 
Framed in  wood laden in ivy and marigolds is a painting that was painfully familiar.  Even unwashed, you can still see the bright reds of rose petals, the wild greens of the women’s skirts, the brilliant oranges of marigolds, and the blinding whites of cobble stones. The image was a practice in entropy made into perfection. The chaos of Valentine's day in a small town square reduced and captured in an infinitesimal moment.
Damian told you that people had started calling them Warsaw’s Faceless Sweethearts. You hated that.  A part of you wants to scream. You want to tell them that this wasn’t for them. This painting was made for one person and one person only.
You’ve been staring at it too long. Tim looks at you. You’ve known him too long to not know that he’s worried. That he’s feeling that stupid surge of protectiveness he always does when you go quiet. It’s in the cautious way he reaches out to you, slow and steady the way you approach a spooked animal. You want to lash out at him but he’s your Tim. Besides, too much of your mind is trapped in the painting, in the white gazebo, in between the couple who’s stuck in the moment before a kiss. 
Tim stands closer to you, his fingers lacing into yours with centuries worth or practice. He looks at the painting. “This painting looks familiar.” Tim says for the lack of anything better to say. It was yours. He knew that with only a few seconds of looking. 
“I… I don’t think so,” you say clumsily, “that’s definitely not the painting I’ve been looking for. Yup that one looks completely finished. Yup definitely.” You tug at Tim’s arm. 
He gives you a look, staying perfectly in place, before turning back to the painting. His gaze draws low. In a glass case sits scraps of paper lined with charcoal.  It takes an embarrassingly long time for Tim to realize that they’re sketches the artist did. Tim recognized the baker, the blacksmith, the seamstress, and even the constable. Most glaring of all he recognizes your marigolds.  His eyes drift to the sketches of the couple in  the gazebo. They were numerous, haphazard and unsatisfied. You were clearly frustrated with the groom’s face. Tim wonders who the poor guy could be. 
In the corner of the page in the center, he sees it.  “Wait… is that me?”
“NO!”
“Is that you?” He asks, pointing to the figure next to his. In the sketch, your lips are brushing against his. Tim’s lip tingles trying to replicate the sensation. 
You’re frozen stiff. You try to pull your hand away. You want to bury your face in them. Scratch that, you wanna be buried six feet under. Tim doesn’t let go of your hand. 
“That’s the umbrella you lost back in London.”
“I lost a lot in London, Timmy.” 
“Well...” Ok. Yeah, you did. Hence why he can’t get you to London even with the promise of letting you ‘improve’ Buckingham palace. But that isn’t the point. “(Y/n), this is gorgeous.” He says, turning to you. You look at him stunned and scared. He squeezes your hand.
You shake yourself out of his grip. Tim lets you. He knows when to back down. 
You step forward leaning on the rope separating you from your work. “I told you it wasn't finished.” You say, glaring at the painting as if willing the colors to move. 
“What happened?” He asks, bumping his shoulder against yours.
You bump your shoulder against his. “Warsaw.”
“I don’t follow.”
“That little town in Warsaw. It was kind of hard to finish the painting when soldiers were setting fires to houses. Ok, they didn’t do it directly but there was smoke.”
“Yeah kind of.” Tim agrees, smiling sadly. He looks back at the painting. “I want to keep it.”
“What?” You blink not quite following the shift in conversation. 
“Darling, I think we should have it. It’s ours after all.” Tim says holding your hand in his. Your mind is bouncing between too many things. He called you darling. He’s holding your hand. He’s smiling so sweetly at you. You’re addicted to that look in his eyes, pure unadulterated adoration. 
You cover your face with your free hand, feeling the smile on your face go uncomfortable wide. You feel something on your forehead, a kiss like a raindrop. It comes again and you feel like you’re going to collapse. 
“It’s yours..” He trails off hesitantly. “..if..” You look up at Tim, waiting with bated breath. Tim squeezes your hands. “...if you’ll be mine. ”
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