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rad-batson · 1 year

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Damian Wayne Headcanons :) in which I give him actual character growth, suck it dc writers

this is extremely long, I am not sorry

He has literally no footsteps, you cannot hear him walk, even when he stomps around in one of those moods, it’s just barely a little *pat pat pat*

He doodles on everything. With everything. Some Gothamites have found intricate floral designs etched into the roof or random brick walls (most likely with a knife) after seeing Robin patrol.

He has like 20 weighted blankets, all different weights and sizes depending on his mood.

His favorite item in his room is a silver Nintendo DS. (He likes to use the little chat rooms, even if no one else is on the other end. He doodles and writes little messages. It’s like his diary.)

He loves all animals, and that includes the creepy ones. Especially the creepy ones.

Once, Tim started screaming bloody murder over a massive bug with a bajillion legs in his room. Damian now houses it in an enclosure in his bedroom. Her name is Mildred, Millie for short.

When he was in the LoA, he was forbidden from stimming in front of others. It took two years for anyone in the batfamily to ever witness him stimming.

His most common stimming behaviors are shaking out his hands, scratching his palms, and rubbing his hands across different surfaces. When he’s really stressed, he’ll snap his fingers.

He absolutely hates cameras. They’re loud and make him uncomfortable. One reporter almost got scratched when they got too close to him with the flash on. He only barely tolerates the security cameras in the manor. Barely.

He can and will be roped into any dare imaginable. Bruce repeatedly forbids him from taking dares from his siblings for months at a time.

He has a compartment in his utility belt dedicated to treats for any animal he sees on patrol.

When he’s tired, he’ll speak a mixture of Arabic, Mandarin, and English. Only Bruce can make sense of it, and occasionally Jason.

Bruce absolutely refuses to yell at Damian. Even if some of his other kids argue that he’s being too nice, he’ll only use his Batman voice and his Soft But Disappointed Dad Voice, but he will Never yell.

(He doesn’t tell them it’s because of what happened the first and only time he yelled at Damian. Bruce moved his hand a bit, and Damian flinched wildly. Bruce cried for hours over the implications of that.)

Damian only feels comfortable sitting if he can clearly see the main entrance. If not, he’ll sit with his back against a wall or he’ll stand.

He dutifully takes the responsibility of feeding and grooming every Wayne animal. They receive the most nutritious and filling meals on the market (all while receiving lots of head pats.)

He has very strong eyebrows just like his father. They tend to pull the same exasperated expressions too, highlighting their resemblance.

Talia taught Damian at a very young age how to write perfectly with both hands. He no longer remembers if he is naturally left or right-handed.

The one insult he cannot handle is “spoiled brat.” A few months after he arrived, someone in the family called him that as a joke, and he completely shut down emotionally. No anger, no sadness, no resentment. Literally just nothing. For days. No one knows why, but they will never let it happen again.

You know he’s Up to Something TM if he swings his legs back and forth while he sits.

He is obsessed with those cheap TV documentaries about famous plane crashes and shipwrecks. After finishing one, he’ll find the nearest family member and tell them all about it: how it happened, what human error caused it, and his fool-proof plan for if it ever happens again and he is nearby. Usually, it’s Alfred.

For the first few years at the manor, Damian’s favorite spot is the family graveyard. Everyone calls him dramatic. He just likes how it’s so quiet. (And he’s dramatic.)

When Jason waxes poetics about dying over dinner, Damian just groans and says, “So have I. You’re not special.” That’s how the family learns he was repeatedly revived in the Lazarus Pit due to the fatal nature of his training and abuse.

His first ever crush was on the cute male tech at Alfred the Cat’s vet. Damian was 12. Jason, who accompanied him, proceeded to give him both The Talk (“It’s okay to like boys”) and The Talk (“Your body is ✨changing✨”) on the drive home.

He will not text back unless it is absolutely necessary. He will leave people on read. He does not hate you. (…Probably.)

Titus is a registered therapy dog, trained in helping Damian through panic attacks and sensory overload. If you ever see Damian asleep on the floor, eyes cried out with Titus resting on top of him, you know why.

When he was 13, he tried to fake his own death after he failed a test at school and “dishonored the family name.” Bruce and Dick had to sit him down and explain that grades aren’t everything, and they still love him unconditionally.

He talks to animals like they’re human. He has a habit of venting his frustrations to Batcow in particular. And his fish while he feeds them.

His love language to others is a mixture of gifts and quality time, usually without words.

One day, Damian was snooping around the house and found that one of the electrical closets leads to a tiny space—barely two feet wide—in between the sheetrock and the foundation wall with nothing but a single hanging lightbulb. It took years before anyone else found it, but by then, Damian had painted an 8x10 ft mural on the wall and created a small bed of blankets and pillows for when he needs a quiet place to escape unwanted stimuli.

When he sleeps, his cheeks puff out like a little chipmunk. It’s adorable.

During the Winter Olympics one year, Damian falls in love with figure skating and decides he wants to try it out, but he never asks to take up lessons in fear that he will be horrible at it.

Duke figures this out and now takes him ice skating just enough to avoid suspicion. It’s become their bonding activity.

Once, Jason and Tim made him try a Sour Patch Kids-flavored energy drink. He immediately spit it out and said, “What the fuck?! That’s even worse than drinking from the Lazarus Pit.” And that’s how the family learns that Ra’s made Damian drink from the Lazarus Pit a few times.

One day, Steph told Damian about the wonders of concealed self defense products. Now, about 80% of the mundane items Damian owns is secretly a knife. He will purchase any item that is secretly a knife. Including several fake lipstick tubes.

He has rigorous self-control when it comes to sleep. Sure, his schedule is a bit fucked up for someone his age, but he is in bed and asleep exactly when he tells himself. (His siblings could never.)

His entire wardrobe is soft items he “found” stole from the laundry room. If it’s comfortable, it’s his now. (No one complains. In fact, having Damian steal your clothes is considered a privilege.)

He hates whenever Alfred tries to recreate dishes from his childhood. It’s just not the same. Alfred understands.

When he’s really stressed—like the “I am one stubbed toe away from a complete meltdown” stressed—he will finger paint. He likes the feeling of it on his skin.

Due to his time in the LoA, Damian has a habit of never telling anyone if he’s injured. Instead, he’ll pretend nothing’s wrong until he passes out or literally can’t move right and someone calls him out. He’s working on it, though.

There’s a massive system of fish tanks in his room complete with handmade decor and multiple venomous species. No one even realizes until Alfred mentions it during dinner.

He has hyper fixated at least once on every single artistic medium you can imagine. His top three are oil paintings, mosaics, and pottery, but he mostly sticks to drawing in his free time.

He has taste tested all of his pets’ treats at one point for “research purposes.”

Giving friends their own nickname is one of the most intimate things Damian does to express his relationship with someone.

Once, he was having an argument with a sibling, and they said, “Oh yeah? Well at least Bruce wanted me!” Damian didn’t leave his room for exactly six days. He even stapled blackout curtains to his windows and the vents. Bruce chewed the shit out of whoever said it and spent hours every day talking to Damian through the door to convince him that, yes, Bruce wants him and couldn’t ever think of a family without him. Damian didn’t come out, however, until he heard Bruce crying while begging him to eat. Damian slept in Bruce’s bed that night and the following week.

When he turns 15, he gets really obsessed with Måneskin.

He’s exactly the kind of Art Hoe that is completely loyal to his favorite brand of art supplies and wouldn’t touch other brands with a 10ft pole.

He has weirdly thin fingers. Like creepily thin, especially as he grows older. Someone commented on them once, and Damian proceeded to wear gloves nonstop for a week.

There are exactly four (4) people who are allowed to touch him without permission first. Dick, Jon, Bruce, and Talia in that order.

His eyes are actually naturally blue. The reason they are green is because of the Lazarus Pit. It’s always the Lazarus Pit. (They barely glow in the dark too, but you need to really pay attention to notice.)

He can wiggle his ears. The only people to ever witness it are Cass and Duke. They’ve been sworn to secrecy.

Whenever one of his many pets sleeps in his bed, he tries to stay as still as possible without touching them so they don’t get annoyed and leave, but they always worm their way into his arms.

As he grows, his family is surprised to learn that he isn’t building the same muscle as his dad. Instead, he’s lean like his mother due to an extremely fast metabolism. He eats a lot to maintain proper health. (His cheeks are still puffy when he sleeps, though. And when he smiles.)

Dick is his emergency contact for school, partially because Dick isn’t as busy, partially due to that time Bruce “died,” but mostly because Damian is terrified of disappointing Bruce if he ever gets in trouble. Thankfully, Dick is convincing Damian otherwise.

His favorite ever birthday gift comes from Tim. It’s a pottery studio he spent months building on their property in secret with several pottery wheels and a kiln.

His hands have always had a sort of surgical accuracy to them due to his stealth training, but it never came to the forefront of everyone’s mind until one particular mission when Tim got shot, and they needed to get the bullet out as quickly as possible. Despite being bigger than most of his family members by now, and Tim refusing to stay still the whole time, Damian was the only one capable of taking the bullet out. While riding in the Batmobile. Going 80 mph. Completely painlessly. Damian is immediately given the de facto role of Combat Medic.

Jon likes to send Good morning texts to Damian. At first, he didn’t know about the “only responds if it’s an emergency” thing, though, so he decided to stop after a few weeks of Damian never replying. Within an hour of not getting the usual text, Damian was at Jon’s house in full Robin gear to make sure he was okay.

He and Steph like to paint each other’s nails when one of them is stressed. After Damian comes out as pansexual, Steph paints little pride flags on his fingers.

He only plays Minecraft on creative mode. He likes building farms and wildlife preserves.

At 16, he gets asked out by a pretty girl in school that Damian had a crush on last year, but he thinks it’s a joke because he can’t fathom anyone liking him so he turns her down.

As he grows, his looks become more androgynous, again eerily resembling his mother, but his voice drops low enough that it doesn’t cause much misgendering.

Then he starts thinking of his gender a bit more and wonders if he’s also a They.

He likes to paint all over the soles of his shoes whenever he gets a new pair. No one will ever really see it, of course, and it eventually wears off the more he walks, but he knows it’s there.

It’s a nice day in the park. He’s doing homework on a picnic table while Titus and Ace run around, and he can’t stop thinking about his future.

Yesterday, there was a school assembly about choosing a career path. Alfred slid him an SAT prep book during breakfast. And his class was assigned one of those “Which career path is best for you?” quizzes.

He gets Veterinarian.

It takes a full five minutes as Damian stares at the results, thinking about the crazy, out-of-this-world idea of not being a vigilante or assassin his entire life, what it would be like if he just turned his back on the future which was so carefully laid out in front of him since birth, before it clicks into place.

Damian doesn’t want to be Batman.

He doesn’t want to lead the LoA either.

Two years later, Damian enrolls in Gotham University and majors in Wildlife Biology on the Pre-Vet track with a minor in Studio Arts. He gets a dorm room, works in the pottery studio, and volunteers at the local animal shelter.

He is content.

Does some of this stray from canon? Yes. However, I do not give a rat’s ass. Thank you, and goodnight.

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clockwayswrites · 9 months

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Like Betta Fish Do Part 23

Jason had a gun in his hand before he even registered that he was awake. A window closed in the living room. Gun trained on the door, Jason pulled up the security feed on his phone. The only reason he wasn’t out the door and shooting was because even his silent alarms weren’t going off. That pointed to this being an annoying sibling.

Sure enough, the camera showed Dick crossing the room. He stopped to blow a kiss at the hidden camera, the fucker, and then went to disable the alarms at the front door. Jason shoved the gun back under the bed frame and buried his face in his pillow. If his siblings were going to invade without warning, they could wait until he was actually ready to get up.

Jason got fifteen more minutes of sleep and a shower in before he was ready to brave his family.

“Nice of you to finally join us,” Tim said with a pointed sip of his coffee.

He was sitting on the couch, Cass perched on the arm next to him. Dick had the other half of the couch, with an angry Damian tucked next to him, while Duke took the arm chair.

“If you wanted punctual, you should have texted,” Jason said. “There better still be coffee in the pot.”

This seemed like a coffee sort of day.

“There is, and we brought donuts,” Dick chirped. “I made sure the horde left a cake and a raspberry cream for you.”

“You are slightly forgiven for whatever the fuck is going on here,” Jason said. Of course someone had taken his favorite mug already. He settled for the one with the Shakespeare quote and added more than a splash of cream to the coffee before he went to face his siblings.

Tim motioned to the table.

The aforementioned box of donuts was there as well as a pile of tabloid papers. Jason raised his eyes at them. Huh.

“Well?” Tim asked.

“News moves fast?” Jason said with an unaffected shrug. At least seemingly unaffected. His heart was going a mile a minute it felt like. He hadn’t wanted them to know yet. He wanted more time.

But he was the one who had gone to pick Danny up. He had known that this could happen. Fuck, he should have thought about this more, he wasn’t ready. Jason picked up the top one. They were just a little side picture for that publication, but the one under it they were main page.

It wasn’t a half bad picture. Danny’s face was obscured, shot from the back as he leaned in to kiss Jason. Danny’s hands on the edge of his leather jacket were clear though, as was how nicely he fit in between Jason’s legs.

Maybe he’d keep that one.

Not that he’d tell Tim that, because, “You’re fucking creepy, Replacement. Why’d you buy all these?”

“I’m keeping track of the family! It’s what I do. Someone has to stay on top of it all.”

“Creepy,” Cass echoed, but soothed her word by pressing a kiss to the top of Tim’s head.

Tim pouted. “How long has this been going on?”

“Well see, I first realized that I liked boys when—”

“How long have you been dating Daniel Nightingale,” Tim interrupted, clearly having no mood for sarcasm today. “Or should I say Daniel Fenton.”

Huh.

“I’ve been dating Danny for about a month and a half now,” Jason said casually as he very purposefully picked a donut from the box.

“And you didn’t tell anyone?”

“I told Dick.” Jason motioned to his oldest sibling before taking a large bite of the donut. “He’s even met him twice.”

Tim sighed like he had the world on his shoulders. “I meant anyone who could actually hand PR, not make it worse.”

“I will take that as both an insult and a compliment,” Dick said. “And don’t talk with your mouth full, you’ll choke.”

Jason rolled his eyes. Like Dick didn’t all the time. He very purposefully swallowed. “We’ve only been on two real dates.”

“There are photos, Jason,” Tim said like that was a big deal.

Jason shrugged. “And that means you had to bring an entourage?”

“This is a family matter,” Tim said with a sniff. “…and they insisted.”

“I did not. I was just shoved in a car,” Duke said. He honest to god raised his hand to say that.

“Richard made me,” Damian grumbled (snootily, but it was still a grumble).

“Mhum,” Jason said and sipped his coffee. “I think we’re missing at least two family members and several side members.”

“Please, Alfred would just be trying to figure out the guy’s favorite food—”

“Anything that doesn’t try to bite back.”

Tim actually paused. “That’s concernedly specific.”

“That’s Danny for you.”

Dick covered a laugh. “Yeah, sorta is. That’s a weird fish you have, little wing.”

Various other siblings mouthed ‘fish’ in confusion. Cass just grinned. That was either a very good sign or a very bad sign.

“And Bruce? Why didn’t you just do this tomorrow at the manor?” Jason asked.

“Bruce needs time to be prepped,” Tim said with a wave of his hand, “Or he’d osculate between relentless questions and staring at you with big watery eyes of joy. It’s best if I give him a dossier first, ideally one that has an answer about this name change. The less he has to be concerned about the better.”

Jason exchanged a look with Dick. Well that certainly wasn’t happening in full. That coffee wasn’t sitting so well anymore. “I blame you, Dick, for the way Tim turned out. I was busy being dead and dubiously brainwashed.”

“Oh no, he came to us like this, I don’t take any of the blame,” Dick said.

Tim was pouting again. “I’m just trying to protect the family! Why is that so bad?”

“Caring creepy,” Cass said with a little nod.

“Yes! I mean no, I’m not being creepy! It’s publicly accessible information… mostly.”

“Tim,” Dick started, “have you been—”

A knock at the door cut the question off and everyone’s head turned to the noise. They were like a pack of meerkats, Jason thought, as he headed that way. Pack? Herd? Jason glanced at the video feed and lamented the timing of it all.

Which really was very Danny; the fish had the worst timing.

Jason opened the door with a sigh.

“Hey! Hold this, breakfast burritos,” Danny said, shoving a plastic bag Jason’s direction before he started working on untangling his scarf. “Picked them up from that little corner place you showed me a few weekends ago. Don’t worry, remembered the extra house hot sauce.”

The scarf seemed to have basically tied it self in a knot and Danny frowned down at at it. He shoved his coffee cup at Jason too as is words turned into an odd mix of absent minded and rushed. “But thought that would be nice. There was something I was going to… Oh! So I was reading this article, which is actually a little old, but it’s so cool! And about trilobites! Which you know, now I have to read it, right? So they actually had no idea how trilobites had sex cause, you know, ancient dead bugs, but then they found this pair that was killed and fossilized while mating. Which like, one, what a way to go, and two, what are the odds! And it turns out it’s not far off from horseshoe— ah-ha! Take that scarf!”

Danny pulled the length of red fabric off, looked up to the living room full of wide eyed siblings, and froze.

“Danny?”

“You have people over?” Danny squeaked.

“Against my will,” Jason said. “My siblings invaded.”

Dick waved.

“Siblings, right, I’m just going to…” Danny took a step to the left, effectively hiding himself behind Jason’s back.

Jason felt Danny’s head impact against him and had to hold back a laugh, but knew he had no hope of stopping the smile that spread across his face. Jason ignored whatever Tim’s soft little ‘huh’ was about. “You okay back there?”

“Am I okay— why didn’t you stop me?” Danny asked, his morose words muffled by Jason’s shirt. “I was just going on!”

“Mhum, about trilobite sex.”

Danny whacked Jason’s arm hard for that, and this time Jason couldn’t hold back a laugh.

“Adorable,” Cass cooed.

“Come on, this just means that they know that you’re a huge nerd already. It’s not like you were going to be able to hide that from anyone for long,” Jason said.

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t. Come on, stop being a prickly puffer fish,” Jason said, shifting slightly to figure out the best way to reveal Danny. “You can’t hide behind me forever.”

“No I’m just going to sink through the floor out of embarrassment.”

Jason was afraid that Danny might actually go through with that so he gentled his tone. “Come on, fish, It’s fine. Tim is a complete nerd. And Damian, for all his bite, is an art nerd.”

Damian bared his teeth. “I will stab you.”

“There’s the bark,” Jason said, unconcerned. “Duke is a dork and you’ve met Dick. Cass is actually cool, but she already said you’re adorable so you might just have to put up with being hugged a lot from her. Besides, they’ve already seen you and they’re my family, there’s no getting out of this long term.”

It had gotten so quiet in the apartment Jason swore he could hear Danny’s heart thudding, or was that his core?

Eventually, Danny loosened his death grip on Jason’s shirt, took a deep breath, and stepped out to stand beside Jason.

“There you are,” Jason said and dropped a kiss to the crown of Danny’s head. “Everyone, Danny. Danny, that is Duke, Cass, Tim, Dick you know, and Damian. He really does bite so maybe don’t sit near him.”

Damian sniffed. “He is lying. I prefer bladed weapons and I was frisked before abducted to come here.”

“Um, hi? Please don’t attack me, I’m still being trained with a xiphos, I’m not going to be a challenge for you with a sword,” Danny said. He sat dutifully in the chair that Jason has brought over from the kitchen table and set near the other living room furniture.

“You’ve trained in the blade?” Damian asked, actually looking interested.

“Training,” Danny reiterated. He accepted his coffee back from Jason with a slightly strained smile and clung to it like a lifeline. “But yeah, I’ve had some lessons. Mostly it’s been a dory though, outside of hand to hand. My teacher prefers the spear. She, ah, likes the reach it gives her, not that she really needs any help in the reach department.”

“We should spar,” Damian decided with a little nod.

“No stabbing my boyfriend, demon brat,” Jason said as he pulled over a chair for himself. He broke off part of the cake donut and handed the rest to Danny who took it with a pleased noise.

“So, you prefer Danny?” Tim asked with an all too innocent expression. At Danny’s nod he added, “And is it Nightingale or Fenton?”

Danny stiffened. “Well, considering I legally changed my name the day I turned eighteen, I think it can be pretty clear I prefer Nightingale.”

“But Fenton…”

“Is my parent’s last name, yes. Look, I’ll be blunt,” Danny started. There was that resigned note to his words that Jason had come to hate. He slipped his hand into Danny’s, rubbing his thumb along the lines of the back of Danny’s hand. “My parents love my sister and I, I know that they do. But that love isn’t enough to see us past their work. They’re… obsessive, to be polite. We were always last. So once we decided to move on, it wasn’t too hard to actually do so. My sister changed her name when she turned eighteen and I did the same when it was my turn. I moved out as soon as it went through. I don’t hate them, I don’t feel strongly enough about them to hate them anymore.”

Tim winced at the words. The neglect clearly hit one of Tim’s own sore spots, but Jason couldn’t muster up any sympathy for him. It severed Tim right for starting this whole conversation.

“Was that… a fight?” Dick asked. He always put such a weight in names.

Danny just snorted, softly. “It took them three months to even notice I’d moved. So no, not really. I still don’t know if they’ve caught on to the name change. We don’t really talk.”

“How did you end up in Gotham?” Duke asked, eager to change the conversation.

“Oh. Well, I’d been doing gen-ed through an online community college. I was getting done with them so applied to some scholarships. I’m actually here on a Wayne Inventors’ Scholarship, which is, ah, a little awkward now,” Danny said with a little wave at all of them, “all things considered.”

“It took him a really long time to put together who I was,” Jason said. “I thought he knew, but nope.”

“Look,” Danny said defensively. “I actively try to avoid the lives of the rich and famous after my Godfather.”

Jason raised a brow and made a mimicking motion to the room. “Yeah, how’s that working out for you?”

“Badly. I’m clearly cursed.”

----- AN: And then Danny proceeded to be beat soundly in Mario Kart/Party. He did hold his own in Smash though.

I am very sleepy, but have some fish! Stay delightful, darlings.

#dp x dc #dead on main #dead on main ship #like betta fish do

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humblefryingpan · 10 days

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I want to see an au where none of the batfam are superheros except for Bruce.

None of the backstories are different and they all act the same but they're just normal people who happen to be batman's kids. Bats is trying his hardest to stop them fighting crime but it is extremely difficult. The police and JLA don't know anything about the family and have absolutely no idea why Bruce Wayne's kids follow Batman around.

More details and scene ideas under the cut!

Batman tries to give reports to Gordon while kid Dick does flips behind him because he got bored and followed him.

Bruce having to lock all the doors and windows before he leaves to stop Dick trying to fight people (sometimes it works but only if Alfred is there to watch him)

B fights joker while little Jason sits in the batmobile waiting because he was sick and got sent home from school early.

(Jason would still die, because the storyline works pretty well even if he isn't Robin and he'd still come back bc Talia felt bad for her ex but he wasn't trained)

Jay coming back and instead of killing people, he's just really bitchy and throws stuff at Tim. He tries to make B kill joker the same way but he's less threatening because he isn't trained and is just wearing regular jeans and a shirt.

Tim making B adopt him because "you need someone to make sure you don't forget to look after yourself and so you have someone to use as a fill-in kid so that you don't go crazy from" which isn't different to the og but it's just some random kid this time, nothing to do with crime fighting.

Tim goes to a JLA meeting (Alfred wasn't able to babysit) and makes fun of other people's ideas. They are all very confused about who's kid this is and how he got there

Steph and Cass just moving into the manor because their families are shit and it was nice. Both have the same backstories but B stops them fighting anyone else. Idk enough about them to make scenes but imagine them.

Damian was raised the same way, when Talia gave him to Bruce he stopped Dami killing but also just stopped him fighting people fully.

Damian going to Kent farm and Superman trying his hardest to hide information from him, not knowing that Dami already knows it all.

Adult Dick and Jason stealing B's equipment so that their sibling fights are 'more fun' and both ending up in the hospital. They claim they found the equipment on the streets because Batman left it behind

Tim and Damian watching B through the security cameras and texting him their ideas. (They'd get along better because no one is Robin but there'd probably still be some sibling rivalry)

If this is a thing please send me fic recs!

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bluejaysandblackbats · 3 months

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Lily of the Valley

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: Jason Todd dies and comes back to life. As the League takes him in, he navigates his morality and family values over the years.

Chapters: 8/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Talia al Ghul, Ra’s al Ghul, Damian Wayne, Barbara Gordon, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Sheila Haywood

Relationships: Jason Todd/Original Character(s)

Additional Tags: Immortal Jason Todd, League of Assassins Jason Todd, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Protective Talia al Ghul, Good Parent Talia al Ghul, Jason Todd Needs a Hug, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Hurt/Comfort, Adopted Children, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Claustrophobia, Child Death, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Resurrected Jason Todd

Chapter Eight: Chamomile

Gotham's air smelled sour to Jason as he got off the plane with his bags. He only packed the necessities along with any weapons he might need. He checked into a hotel across from the embassy. His hotel was pricey, but its location was intentional. It had a perfect bird's eye view of the diplomat's courtyard.

Jason settled in quickly, setting up the surveillance equipment and ordering room service. He had no plans of leaving the room for a few days at least. Besides, it felt like forever since Jason had junk food, so Jason splurged. He enjoyed the autonomy of working in Gotham on his own mission. Someone knocked on the door and announced themselves as room service, and Jason took a curved blade and hid it in his waistband before answering the door. An older woman wheeled in his food and set the table. He tipped her generously and sent her on her way before gorging on a burger, fries, pizza, and a banana split.

Afterward, he lay down and took a nap. He dreamt of Talia and Damian well into the afternoon. He still hadn't adjusted to the timezone in Gotham. He hadn't adjusted to being in Gotham. Not quite yet. The bed wasn't as nice as the one he slept in at home, but he was so jet-lagged it didn't matter. Once he woke up, he spent the next four hours surveilling the embassy through the small camera he placed on the balcony and a pair of binoculars.

He knew the mission was mainly surveillance, but he worried it'd lead to violence. Ra's wouldn't have sent him if it wasn't dangerous. Eventually, he'd work his way into the embassy, perhaps as a staff member or as a new friend of the diplomat's son. He wasn't sure yet, but he knew the mission would take several weeks to complete if he did everything right. One mistake and several people would have to die. Jason didn't want that.

Every Saturday, the diplomat's son would meet with a group of men, and they'd drive back to his apartment building. Jason followed the young man a few times to memorize the route and find the exact apartment. By his third week in Gotham, he rented the apartment next to the man. The landlord didn't ask questions, especially not after the rate Jason offered to pay for his silence. Jason made sure to get the apartment next door to the man so he could hear his comings and goings. During that time, Jason slept on the floor of his apartment. He listened to the man for nearly two weeks through the wall before everything went wrong.

Jason lay on the floor of his apartment, sleeping when he awakened to a bloodcurdling scream. He could hear a woman's voice crying, and without thinking, he grabbed a weapon from his bag and went out on the balcony. The cold wind blew in Jason's face. He carefully jumped from his balcony to the man's and broke into the apartment. He closed his eyes and pulled his hat over his face to hide his identity. Talia trained him well enough to know he wouldn't need to see to fight as long as he kept his senses. He shattered the light fixtures with the weighted end of his kusarigama and stepped into a corner of the room. The man came out of the bedroom, and the heaviness of his footsteps clued Jason in right away. Without a word, Jason swung the sickle end of the weapon and listened to the man's cry as it wrapped around his leg, cutting into his flesh. Jason used the weapon to drag the man close to him and placed a hand around his throat.

The man gasped for air and begged for his life. He even offered Jason money. "Shut up," Jason whispered the words through clenched teeth. He turned to the bedroom, where he could hear the woman breathing, and stopped choking the man. "If you even look at another woman again, I will kill you... But not before I castrate you." Jason could hardly contain his rage. Only two things kept him from slaughtering that man in the darkness of that apartment. Killing him would only traumatize the woman in the room, and he would jeopardize his mission.

He figured he'd complete his mission and kill him later. "My eyes are covered, ma'am. It's okay now!" Jason yelled. She rushed out of the apartment, and Jason released the man before disappearing into the night with his weapon. He pulled his hat up, followed her to her apartment, and ensured the woman got in safely. She didn't go to the hospital, and he couldn't bear to leave her alone. "Miss?" Jason asked in his normal voice. "Are you alright, Miss?"

"I'm fine! Go away!" she wept.

"You don't have to let me in... I can sit outside the door. I just-. You looked hurt. What would my ma think if I turned a blind eye to somebody who needs help?" Jason whispered. He pressed his forehead to the door, and she opened the door slightly, leaving the chain latched.

"How would you know—?"

"You got blood in the hallway... And you looked scared when you passed me," Jason half-lied. He just wanted to help her. He wouldn't be able to sleep if he knew he'd ignored her. Maybe she reminded him of Catherine. No one helped her when she was hurt or hungry, or sick. Jason just wanted to be different. Jason stepped back so she could see him. He wasn't very big or menacing, so he hoped she'd feel at ease.

"What's a little boy like you doing out so late? Aren't your folks worried?" she questioned him. Jason shook his head.

"My folks are dead," Jason answered, "I only wanna help... Do you have a first aid kit?"

She shut the door and unlatched the chain. Once Jason was able to get a look at her in the light, he felt rage all over again. Her face was all busted up, and she couldn't stop shaking. She sat on the couch and pointed out her first aid kit to Jason. He opened the kit and sat on the couch next to her, cleaning her face and patching her up. "Does it look bad?" she asked. Jason shook his head. Another lie.

"Do you have a paper bag? Like a grocery bag or something to put your clothes in?" Jason questioned. She nodded and told him where the bags would be. He got up once more and handed her the bag.

She didn't move. "I should thank you... I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"No need," Jason whispered, "What's your name?"

"Gloria. My name's Gloria," she whispered.

Jason smiled at her. "Gloria... That's real pretty," Jason whispered, "Well, I guess I'm done here... I hope they get the creep that hurt you."

She grabbed his wrist, and he froze. "Please, at least let me pay you—."

"No thanks, Gloria," Jason interrupted, "But if you need the company... I'll stay until you fall asleep." Gloria nodded. Jason didn't need any training to know Gloria was terrified. He'd seen it before. He spent several nights as a child curled up at the foot of Catherine's bed, hoping that she'd sleep through the night. It made his stomach sick to think that man could go unpunished.

"I feel like somebody's looking out for me," Gloria confessed, "Weird enough, I really think I've got a guardian angel or something."

Gloria lay on the couch and Jason draped a blanket over her. He didn't say anything else. He turned the tv on low and waited until she fell asleep to leave just as he promised. He couldn't help but shed a tear on his way back to the hotel room.

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yourlocalknight · 2 years

Text

When Jason and Roy get married, all of Jason's siblings Immediately enter into a contest of "Who can be the best uncle/aunt?" They all have different reasons - Dick because he really wants to be, Damian and Tim because they think it'd be hilarious if Jason's kid liked them best, Cass and Steph because they won't let the boys show them up, and Duke because the girl deserves at least some kind of normalcy (although even his idea of normal is maybe not quite that, same as everyone else in the family).

And like all batfam contests, it gets out of hand Fast. It starts off simple; Cass takes Lian with her to the ballet studio, and Dick brings her out for ice cream afterwards. Duke drops off some Justice League training cards and promises to watch a movie with her later. All relatively normal activities. Then, Damian and Tim come over, Damian with a sleeve of custom arrows, and Tim with a very nice laptop, both for Lian. Jason has to tell his brothers very firmly that "Those are very nice gifts, but Lian is five."

After that, it escalates. Dick tries to teach her gymnastics, which is all good and fine, but suddenly Lian is on the trapeze and her dads are having a heart attack. Steph takes her to self defense classes, which is eventually deemed okay due to their line of work, but only just barely. Damian starts taking her to the zoo, which is all good and fine until Lian falls in love with the snakes and he gets her one. Lian is estatic. Roy is terrified. Damian finds this hilarious.

Tim tries his best, but really, he has no idea how one is meant to treat a child. He brings her to "take your kid to work day" at Wayne Enterprises, and she loves getting to dress up and act like an adult. But then Jason finds out her gave her coffee, and forbids Tim from babysitting alone. After that, he mostly sticks to playing video games with her, or teaching her how to code.

As Lian gets older, she learns how to manipulate this. A surprise to everyone, Damian is the easiest to manipulate. If he gets even a whisper that she might like him more than Tim, Dick, or Steph, he'll do anything to keep it that way. Lian wants a new pet? "I want to be just like Uncle Dami, with all the animals he adopts! I think it's so cool how much he cares about them!" She found a dog in her room the next morning. Her dads were not amused, but hey, the puppy was cute, so what could they do? (She named him Little D, after Damian. No one had the heart to stop her.)

Who Lian's "favorite" is changes pretty regularly, depending on what she wants. It's Cass when she wants private ballet lessons, Dick when her dads aren't letting her eat sugary food, and Damian when she starts learning to draw. It's Steph when she wants her hair done nicely (although Roy is pretty good at that), and Tim when she gets her eye on a really expensive camera. All the batkids are aware of this, to some extent at least, but they don't really care. Puppy eyes from Lian, and suddenly Steph is taking her out for waffles every Monday before school. She has them all around her little finger.

Her real favorite, however, is Duke. Unlike his siblings, Duke never does anything crazy to get in Lian'a good graces; instead, they simply spend time together. Duke helps her start her trading card collection, and her comic collection. Every other weekend, he brings over a puzzle, a couple of movies he thinks she'll like, and a bucket of movie theatre popcorn. They spend the evening throwing popcorn at each other, half watching the movies, maybe finishing the puzzles, and playing dress up. As much as Lian loves all her family, those evenings will always be some of the most special to her, because she gets to just hang out with someone she loves.

#lian harper #roy harper #jason todd #jayroy #dick grayson #damian wayne #tim drake #duke thomas #cassandra cain #steph brown #batfamily headcanons #batfamily

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woahajimes · 3 years

Text

Have you ever wondered how Damian would handle an instagram account?

For starters, Damian doesn’t even know he has an instagram account. It’s until Bruce answers a question at an interview that Damian finds out he has an instagram account. Bruce had created it for him, for god-knows-what reason. Yet Damian has to act like he has known all along, that he has an instagram account.

Once Bruce gets him settled into a username that very literally is just Damian’s name as the son of the billionaire, Damian does absolutely nothing. He doesn’t follow anyone, he doesn’t post anything. He doesn’t even have a profile picture. For all everyone knows, Bruce Wayne could have lied and that account is just some rando’s.

And months pass, Damian’s account is the literal same every single day, and trust me, people have checked. Damian couldn’t actually care less about his instagram account, the only reason he hasn’t deleted the app completely is because he rarely even uses his phone. He just carries it around in his pocket when he’s out as Damian Wayne.

It’s almost a year, and Damian is out with Dick, they’re getting lunch or something. Dick has ordered a burger, Damian stuck with a veggie option. And they’re about to start eating and Dick takes out his phone, snaps a picture.

“What are you doing?” Damian asks him.

Dick stares at Damian. “It’s for my instagram story.” And then he starts typing some caption or something.

And even though I, op, don’t have younger brothers, I do have a younger sister and I can tell you that little siblings copy like, everything you do. And I know we’re talking about Damian, but still. Damian took his phone out and he snapped a picture, Dick in the shot as well. He posted it in his story, he didn’t put a caption.

And then later that day, Damian remembered that he hadn’t saved that picture he took. So he opened the instagram app and he saw a little circle around his empty profile picture. He decided that he liked it. It went from purple to pink to orange to yellow to orange to pink and back to purple.

So this became a routine of his, after all, it would cost him next to nothing. To take a picture and post it on his story. It would keep the little ring around his profile picture. And he’d get replies to his stories and he’d get tagged in pictures and he’d get thousands of followers and he’d get tagged in comments and new requests and all those things that famous accounts get.

And it’s not like the pictures ever made sense. The first week they were things like the cover of his sketchbook, or this plant he found in the garden. Maybe it was the map on his wall, or alfred the cat and titus. He wouldn’t even take time with these pictures. He’d just remember every day about the little circle around his default profile picture and he’d grab his phone, and he’d take a picture of the nearest thing he could find. He never bothered to write a caption, nor put a song, anything.

And as time passes, the logic of the pictures becomes blurry. Why would the heir of the richest man in gotham post a picture of a crack on the pavement?

But sometimes, people doubt that Damian even takes these pictures. Because sometimes they’re pictures of gotham at night, when the sky is pitch black, starless. And this one time, Damian is out on patrol, the sun is rising, he still hasn’t gone home. The sky reminds Damian of the little ring around his profile picture. So Damian sets his phone to record automatically and so it records towards the sunset. And because Damian would place himself against the light, the figure would look pitch black, a plain shadow against the sunset. So Damian sets his phone and he takes his cape off, he has his grappling hook, but he’ll use it once he’s out of the camera shot. And then he gets the video going (his phone is leaning on a plant pot, there’s another building that ends nearly as the camera shot begins. So Damian swings from where he set his phone, to the other building, and he just.

Jumps.

He’s jumping headfirst and he’s whooping loudly, laughing almost. He’s done this so many times yet something is just nicer.

it was awesome.

And he posts the video, but silences it. Nobody can see Damian’s uniform, nor his mask. For all they know, Damian hired someone to jump, or maybe he even threw a mannequin or something.

That was the only video Damian posted on his story. The rest, every other day, theRE were just pictures.

We skip time a bit more and Damian was with Jon, when he still lived in hamilton. They were by the tree they were always at, and Damian was taking a picture of the bark of the tree. Because bark.

And Jon just stares at Damian. “What the h are you doing?”

Damian shrugs. "Just taking a picture.”

Jon snatches the phone from him. They’re close enough friends. He goes to the camera and holds the phone up straight, he sets it to the front camera.

“My mom does this all the time,” he says. “She calls them selfies.”

Jon snaps a picture. Then he checks it. He’s smiling, Damian is not. “You’re so lame! Did nobody ever teach you how to smile?”

Jon snaps a second picture, Damian’s still not smiling. Third picture, Damian’s expression moves a bit, but it's just him rolling his eyes.

“Come on, Damian! SMILE!” Jon takes another picture, he checks it. Damian’s smiling dramatically, he looks like Jon looks in family pictures he doesn’t want to take. He’s not smiling with his teeth, his eyes are practically closed, his nose is scrunched up. If anything, he looks more disgusted than happy. “Ugh, we’ll just try another day, i guess.”

This became a sort of routine. Every day they saw each other as civilians, Jon would take a selfie with Damian. Sometimes he smiled, if he was in the right mood. It didn’t really matter, Damian never posted those pictures on his story.

Now we take Damian’s fourteenth birthday. This, Damian decides, is a much better way to spend his birthday than the last one. Bruce isn’t there, but his brothers are, his best friends also are. Alfred and Jon, Dick, Tim, and Jason. They’re eating strawberry cake, with the ‘happy 14th!’ in pink frosting and everything. It is now his first option, thanks to Alfred.

Anyways, they’re slicing the cake, Damian just blew out the candles. Jon takes his phone out, the one he got when he turned eleven. He doesn’t have an instagram account, Lois wouldn’t let him, but Jon still takes a picture of everything.

Alfred asks Damian for his phone, so he can take a picture. Damian shakes his head, yet he takes out his phone. He’s at the head of the table, he puts his phone on the front camera. He hands it to Alfred.

“Jon likes to call them ‘selfies’,” Damian explained. He showed Alfred. “Here, you take them like this.”

Damian took his phone back from Alfred, he stretched his arm with the phone. He called out Tim’s name, and all of them looked up.

“Smile!” Damian snapped a picture, he grinned. He looked at the picture, he liked it. Alfred was grinning, like in that picture in which he’s with Bruce when he was little, and they’re both laughing at something.

Damian decided that this picture was too nice for it to go on his 24-hour ring. Besides, he had already put a picture of Jason helping prepare the frosting. He didn't need two stories in the same day.

So he drafts the post, and there’s the option to edit the image, but Damian skips it. It’s nice as it is.

He posts it, he doesn’t write a caption.

taglist: @hauntingsonofrobin @bikoncon @catxsnow @screennamealreadyused @thesporklecat @thesesickfics-justmakemesick andd i think i got it all idk

#OKAY ALSO DAMIAN LOOKS AT THE PICTURE AGAIN AND HE NOTICES HIS NOSE SCRUNCHES UP WHEN HE SMILES AND HE GOES huh #damian wayne #jon kent #dick grayson #nightwing #robin #alfred pennyworth #dick and damian #jason todd #damijon #ALTHO NO BUT LIKE HAHA #damian wayne headcanon #damian wayne x reader #or not but like it's an existing tag #lunatick #if you wanna be in my taglist send me an ask or comment lol i- you HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH GUTS IT TOOK TO WRITE A TAGLIST I HAVE LIKE FIVE

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butwhyduh · 3 years

Text

A Date to Remember

Damian Wayne x Superman’s daughter reader

Damian is 20, reader 19, Jon is her little brother at 18 and Kon acts like an older brother to her.

Warning: angsty and kidnapping

You’d always told Damian that the sunset on the Kent farm was the best in the world. Damian smiled a little as he drove down the long road to Smallville. Damian had thought about classic dinner date in one of Metropolis’ fanciest restaurants but you insisted on meeting him in a barn.

He felt underdressed. Blue jeans and a flannel shirt. Why did he let Jon help him get dressed? He felt ridiculous but at least he wore sensible shoes. But deep down Damian knew you world like it. And he was certainly willing to feel a little foolish for you.

Clark was off world and Lois was on a mission. Jon had his own date in the city so it was the both of you alone tonight. How long had it been since the two of you were alone without someone around? Between his half a dozen brothers and your family with literal super hearing... yeah it’s been tough. So being 50 miles from everyone was kind of a dream.

Damian pulled in the driveway with some flowers and walked up to the house. He knocked on the door only for it to swing open. Damian noticed the splintered door frame and his heart sped up. He called your name. Act like the rich billionaire son while working like Robin, even though he wasn’t quite sure he still wanted the name.

He scanned every surface and he noticed a small scratch near the back door after looking through every room. Most people wouldn’t even notice it. You weren’t there. He looked closely and saw drag marks in the gravel path to the barn. His heart was thundering at this point. You weren’t in the barn either.

You were half Kryptonian but the genetic inheritance was complicated. Jon had won the lottery with having most of his father’s powers and not being as sensitive to Kryptonite. You had lost it. Hypersensitive to Kryptonite and only some speed and increased hearing and strength. Barely about the average human. You weren’t a fighter.

Damian pulled out his phone to call Jon.

“Bit busy here, Damian,” Jon said, sounding far from amused. Damian could hear kissing noises in the background and frowned. He didn’t want to hear that.

“Your sister is missing,” he said and he heard a lot of movement on the phone.

“What??”

“The door jam was kicked in and there are scrap marks of her being dragged away. I think she’s been kidnapped,” Damian said. His voice felt tight. He, son of Batman, let his girlfriend get kidnapped. “Whoever it was clearly waited until she had no other Kryptonians around to grab her. It wasn’t a coincidence that she was taken tonight. Can you get out here? I’m calling father to try and trace her. Her phone is missing too.”

“I’m leaving in 5. Damian, if Luther has her, she can’t handle Krytonite,” Jon said, worry bleeding into his voice. “It’s like it poisons her.”

“I know. But we don’t know who has her. Let’s hope they don’t know she’s part Krytonian,” Damian said, already mentally moving on to his next step. Contact Bruce. Get the bat computer to trace her. Look for more evidence. Don’t freak out completely that she might be poisoned by Kyrotonite.

“Okay. I’m about to fly. I’ll see you soon,” Jon said before hanging up.

——————————

You woke up with a cough. You head throbbed and your stomach rolled as you laid in a bed? Maybe a couch? It was a horrible feeling but you knew exactly what it was: Kryptonite. You couldn’t forget what how that stuff made you feel. You tried to look around to see it but the room was completely dark. Night vision would be nice but you got human eyes. Your slightly enhanced hearing heard nothing but the wind outside. Okay, you were ground level or higher.

You tried to twist in the cuffs that bound your hands only to cry out. There was the Kryptonite. It was on the outside of the cuffs and you almost threw up at it touched your skin. You were cuffed with Kryptonite to a hospital bed, you figured. What other bed had areas perfect for cuffs? Your legs were equally restrained and you felt so exposed in the dark room.

Your dad was off world. He wouldn’t hear you if you called for him. But Jon might. But if you yelled, someone might come in and who knows what they would do. You’d wait a little bit longer. You wanted to fall asleep. The Kryptonite made you feel so dull. Like the first time you were exposed to it.

You were all of 4 years old. Your dad had brought you with him to the Justice League meeting. Relatively safe and Batman promised Robin would watch you. Dick was so excited to be a babysitter. You had hugged him tight enough to hurt before running to the climbing wall.

“Hey!” Called the 16 year old. “I brought games instead!”

You warily walked back over to him and card games and board games fell out of a duffle bag as he opened it. Half the stuff you were far too young for. You bent down as he scooped up his gameboy. You pulled out some games and open a side pocket to grab a small metal box. Dick sat down his gameboy carefully before turning back to you.

“Don’t open th-“ he started before you pulled open the box to show a bright green stone. Followed by you throwing up all over his bag of games. You dropped the box and sat on the floor. Dick quickly closed the box with the piece of Kryptonite and put it in his pocket. He had boroughed one of Bruce’s bags that apparently wasn’t fully unpacked.

“Dad, I don’t feel good,” you said as Clark ran over. Dick looked at you so guiltily.

“I didn’t know,” he swore. “I’m so sorry.” Bruce stood by quietly.

“We need to talk later,” Clark had told Bruce and yeah, they were mad at each other for a while.

——————————————

Jon arrived shortly in a dress shirt and slacks and he looked at Damian just as weird as Damian looked at him. They had basically switched clothing.

“Not to judge but that’s date clothing? You told me to not wear flannel,” Jon said accusingly.

“That’s because your sister wanted me to wear this,” Damian said back. “Let’s focus on finding her. Father’s calling me now. We’ll change in a minute.”

“Hello, you’re on speaker phone,” Damian said.

“Her tracker is showing a warehouse owned by Luthor Corp in downtown Metropolis,” Bruce said. “Do you need help? I can see if Dick is nearby.”

“No thanks. Jon will help me. Thank you, father,” Damian said before hanging up.

“Luthor. I knew it,” Jon said with a frown. “Wait, you put a tracker on my sister? Does she know?”

“Now is not the time. Let’s get to Metropolis,” Damian said, changing the subject while both got dressed. Jon nodded and offered his arms. “I’m not being carried like that. I’ll hold on your back,” Damian said. Jon rolled his eyes and nodded again.

As they flew over corn fields and pastures, Jon began to question Damian. “So when did you put this tracker in? Does she even know? Where is it? Do I want to even know?”

“It’s sub-dermal in her forearm and I haven’t told her yet. And it’s irrelevant right now as it might save her life,” Damian said and Jon looked disgusted. “We need to focus on saving her and then you can be her angry brother.”

“Wow...”

————————————

You moved and the cuffs burned your skin. You gasped and screamed “Jon! Kon!” You called out to them hoping one of them would hear you.

“Dad!” you cried frantic. There was no way he would hear you. “Damian! Jonathan! Conner!”

You panted and your head pounded. You were so tired. You’d lose consciousness if no one saved you. Then who knows what they would do to you.

“Superman!” You screamed desperately before finally passing out.

——————————

“Did you hear that?” Jon said as they flew towards the Metropolis skyline.

“No all I hear is wind. What did you hear?” Damian said.

“Y/n. She’s calling for us,” Jon said speeding up.

“Is she okay?” Fear bled into Damian’s voice.

“I can’t tell. I’m trying to hurry,” Jon said flying quickly towards the industrial area of the city. He landed on the roof of a warehouse. Jon’s eyes glowed as he looked through the building.

“7 men. 4 posted outside the door to the room that’s she’s being held on the 2nd floor. Her heart rate is steady and she isn’t screaming any more. Almost sounds asleep,” Jon said after his analysis.

“Probably tranquilizer. Father’s data said this building is used for research purposes. Does that fit?” Damian asked.

“Uh more like research subject holding. Maybe a small lab on the first floor but other than cameras everywhere, there isn’t much science stuff that I can scan. But also the basement is sealed off,” Jon said.

“How?”

“Lead bound. You can check it out while I rescue her. 4 guys is nothing,” Jon said making a fist.

“Hold on. Luthor would probably have her surrounded by Kryptonite. Just in case one of you look for her. And that’s the last thing we need,” Damian said. “I’ll rescue her and you look for the basement. Knowing Luthor, it’s probably an entire facility of experiments below. He just hadn’t gotten her room ready yet.”

Jon looked frustrated. “Fine. You rescue her but be careful. She is the weakest of us. She’s not invulnerable to bullets or anything.”

“Most of the people I rescue aren’t either,” Damian reminded him. “And I’m certainly not taking a chance with my beloved.”

Jon looked over to respond but Damian was already gone. Just like the rest of the bats: silent goodbyes. Jon quietly moved down to the first floor. He was working but at the same time, his ear was trained on his sister’s heartbeat. Jon might be the younger sibling but she didn’t have powers and he felt so protective.

—————————————

Damian rolled his eyes at the 5 ways he could see that the security sucks in the 3 minutes he hung out the window before climbing in. Large rafters and guards who didn’t bother to look up. Not to mention the fact that they let there be a solid wall between the set of guards which meant that Damian was easily able to jump down to knock them out in pairs without the other set knowing. If the security was any worse they would leave the door unlocked.

The door wasn’t unlocked but it was a deadbolt that Damian easily disabled. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say it was on purpose. He gulped before opening the door. What if you were really hurt? Or dead? Ignore and get in there.

Damian opened the door and he felt white hot rage. You were tied to a bed and were unconscious. You were in a nice dressy shirt and sweatpants. They’d clearly taken you while you were getting dressed. Damian wanted to kill them. He had to take a breath to help you. Jon was taking them out and Damian was on rescue. He had to stay level headed.

Even the cuffs on your wrists were inadequate. If they had attempted to restrain Damian, he would have gotten out in 3 minutes. When he was 6 years old. The Kryptonite had left nasty red burns on your skin and he clenched his jaw at the sight. Jon better be punching extra hard.

Damian picked you up bridal style and you groaned a little before turning your head against his chest. The farther he got you from that fucking Kryotonite the better you were. He took you to the roof and you started waking up.

“Damian,” you said softly and a little confused.

“Hey you’re awake. How are you feeling?” He asked looking all over your face for injury.

“Kryptonite. I hate that stuff,” you said. Damian grabbed your hand and you hissed. He looked to see bright red knuckles. You’d clearly fought at some point. He certainly knew the signs of punching someone.

“You fought back?”

“Yeah and hitting someone in a helmet and body armor sucks. I got just a few in before they pulled out the damn rock. I throw up every damn time,” you said shaking your head.

Before Damian could comment on how brave and stupid it was to punch body armor, there was a huge crash down on the first floor as someone flew in the building through the window. You grabbed him tightly.

“What the hell is that?”

“Kon. Conner’s here. I’m up here,” you yelled.

Conner flew up to the roof. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“Kidnapped. Damian and Jon saved me. He’s still down there actually. Can you check on him?” You said. Damian suddenly stood up.

“What if you were a distraction and the real problem is downstairs?” Damian suddenly said with clarity. The Kryptonite alone was enough to hold you down. The half ass security was to hold their attention when they rescued you. Jon was already flying back down before Damian could say more. Damian weighed his options: leave you alone, bring you with him, or stay out of it and while the last sounded nice, he’d have to go in case of more Kryptonite.

Before Damian could decide, Kon was back on the roof. “You’ve got to come see this.”

Downstairs was a lead lined basement. That alone had you nervous. Jon stood by the door. Little spattering of blood could be seen on his hands. He had a hard look.

“Warning: this is going to be messed up,” he said and you were even more worried. You walked in to see cages. Kids. Unconscious adults lay around in the hallway. “They were experimenting on them.”

You felt nauseous.

“My father is on the way. This is much bigger than I thought,” Damian said messing with his comms. His free hand was on your shoulder protectively.

There were 8 kids in cages. Bruce was running tests on their blood and investigating the area as you helped to get them out of the cages. What a terrible Valentine’s Day.

“Beloved, let’s get you home. We can stay at the farm tonight. You need sleep,” Damian said worried. You looked at him distracted.

“They’re just kids.”

“Come on. Let’s go. Kon is going to stay there too. Just for the night,” Damian said helping you up. Kon flew you both back to the farm.

“I’m going back to help. You okay, kid,” Kon asked as Damian inspected the house.

“I’ll be alright. Just help those kids,” you said.

“Yeah, of course,” he said ruffling your head. You rolled your eyes. “But seriously, the way you screamed I thought you were being murdered.”

You stiffened. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

Kon knew when to quit. Something he had learned from Tim. He gave you a big hug and flew off towards Metropolis.

“Hey. I made your bed so you can sleep,” Damian said quietly. “And a change of clothes.”

You nodded and went upstairs. Damian helped pull off your shirt and put on a sweater. He looked at the marks around your wrist and red knuckles but didn’t note any more bruises or cuts. You pulled on sweatpants and climbed in small twin bed that Lois kept for guests. The pink and yellow flowery quilt felt warm and comforting on your skin. Damian lay beside you after changing and looked at you seriously.

“What is it,” you asked.

“I was so scared tonight. I have been doing this for years and I’ve never been so worried,” he said softly and you looked down and flushed. If you weren’t so freaking sensitive to Kryptonite this wouldn’t have happened. Damian gently lifted your chin and you looked at him.

“I was scared to lose you,” he said running his thumb across your cheek. “I’m going to drive you absolutely mad because I don’t want to take my eyes off of you.”

“Yeah?” You said with a little smile.

“Uh hm. But first sleep,” he said and your body certainly agreed. You curled into him and rest your head on his chest. His arms held you tightly before rubbing your back. You fell asleep to Damian staring at you. He stared at you all night, not even sleeping when Kon came in a few hours later.

———————————

“I have to know what all that was, Bruce,” you said at the Batcave the next day. “I was in there.”

He looked at you for a minute. “They were experimenting with meta DNA. All of those kids have gifts and they wanted to take you too. There were even plans to inject those kids with your blood to see if it would affect them.”

You shivered a little at the thought. Lex Luthor and his obsession with Kryptonian DNA.

“All the records were burned. Most of the warehouse too. Your brothers were.... thorough. And Clark will be home in a few days,” Bruce added.

“Really?”

“Yes. And he’s furious at Luthor. Probably will call soon. He wanted to let you sleep earlier. We’re just running programs here. Why don’t you and Damian go upstairs,” he suggested.

“Bruce Wayne,” came a stern voice behind you. You turned to see your mother, Lois Lane, looking like she was going to beat up Batman. “You put a tracker in my daughter without her permission?”

“You what?” You said.

“Actually that was Damian. Though I want to point out that it helped save her life,” Bruce added. Lois slapped him soundly across the cheek. Bruce just blinked and rubbed his cheek.

“Damian, you put a tracker in me?” You asked shocked. You’d assumed Jon had heard you or Damian’s detective work brought them to the warehouse. Not an invasive tracker in your body. “What the hell?”

“Well I can explain..”

#Damian Wayne x reader #damian al ghul x reader #robin x reader #Damian Wayne angst #valentine fic #batboy x reader #dc #fns

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andieperrie18 · 3 years

Text

Your Endgame

So this is requested by@raginghellfire. I haven’t written in a while due Uni and busy classes but I hope I did a good job on this. UwU Dami might be a bit OOC but I really think he is a passionate lover when he falls in love.

Bruce Wayne was one tough cookie. Unlike Tony, he held shackled himself with the responsibility of protecting Gotham city from its baddies that he barely let himself enjoy his life. He too cares for children very much but he wasn't as hands-on being there for them. He wasn't always there in those best events in their life to congratulate them that greatly hurt them. It would seem that he just adopted these children as soldiers for his endless war with crime, that they were nothing but expendable assets. But he does love them and had just recently been trying to reconnect with all of them.

Tony Stark had always let his child have free reign over their life but he never leaves the passenger seat. He will always be by their side no matter what choice they make. He was never strict as he was a free soul but he grows and understands responsibility everyday after returning from Afghanistan after being held captive. He wasn't a perfect father but he did try for Y/n, good thing for him is that she understands responsibility earlier made it easy for him to be there for him.

Bruce Wayne was notorious for being a play boy, same goes to Tony Stark. Both men has had another of flings that the paparazzi didn't miss to see. It took quite a while before two of them finally found out the true meaning of true love. The one decided to settle down while the other chose his job over attaining a lifelong happiness and peace.

Some of the Wayne kids also had their own flings through out their lives. Some had more the two and some, just one. Just one cause when the second came, they were their endgame.

---

The bright city lights of Paris slightly seeped in the glass panes of the balcony doors of the room. Across it was a king sized bed with undone sheets and two people underneath the high quality comforter. Damian and Y/n sat with backs against the head board, the latter former resting his against the latter's figure. His head slightly buried on her neck as her fingers combed through his bed hair her other hand around his bare chest.

"I'm pretty sure that photo reached them already," her voice echoed around the slightly dim room.

Damian hummed, "It did, which earned me quite a number of miss calls from my family,"

Y/n giggled that he found contagious making him do the same.

"I'm going back to Gotham in two days but I don't think I'm ready to leave your side yet," he snuggled his face on her neck, placing butterflies kisses on them. Her eyes close, a flutter vibrates within her chest as she pulled his head closer. Placing her lips on his head. Damian pulled her seated figure closer to his own, his face snuggling closer to her skin.

"Can I just postpone the flight for another month?" he mumbled, sending tickles on her skin making her giggle.

"Dami, you said that 2 months ago and you already bought a ticket home,"

Damian never whines but after almost two years of being in a relationship, there are certain childishness he had suddenly unlock being with her. Y/n laughed at his childish wiles as it send tingles in his stomach, he loves it when she laughs because of him.

"Besides, I already scheduled mine and my seat is next to yours, you can't expect me to have an empty seat beside me?"

Damian's head shot up from her neck, his eyes staring at her. Y/n bit her lip containing a fit of giggles after seeing his eyes sparkle like a child getting a new toy. He slumped his faced between breast.

"I really love you."

"And I really love you too, Dami,"

---

And probably the biggest public figures is youngest Wayne child and the eldest Stark Child. The most controversial couple that reached ears all over the world. No one knew of their relationship as until the paparazzi caught a picture of them kissing at Champ de Mars near the Eiffel tower. The news made use of the quote, "Pictures speaks a thousand words" rather well. Some are heartbroken by the news but the biggest people taken surprise by the news were the Wayne's.

Clicks and flashes surrounded the long trail of red carpet that lead to entrance of the Wayne manor that held another gala. This time it was a celebratory occasion for the youngest Wayne's return from a long vacation that he took a almost 2 years ago. A break he took after a rather peaceful yet melancholic break up with titan's member. Damian suddenly decided to toss the towel and told his Father that he doesn't want to be like Bruce, alone and brooding. He needs to breath for a while to which his father did not hesitate to agree. Bruce loves his children, he may not show it but he does.

A Grey matte Porsche 911 parked its way at the end of the carpet making some of the photographers to it, awaiting the celebrities that will emerge.

"Do you think they'll like me? I mean Dad isn't really in good terms with Bruce Wayne you know," Y/n eyed the silhouette of the Wayne manor and the crowding paps at the cat walk. This wasn't the first time she came to a Wayne gala, its just that this time she was going to be introduced as Damian Wayne's girlfriend.

The emerald eyed Wayne gently took her chin to meet his eyes. A gentle smiles grew from his lips.

"They will, beloved. I know they will because I love you," his voice said laced a such a tender tone that no one ever thought he could have.

A love sick grin emerged from her once doubting expression before she pressed leaned for a quick peck to which he returned in an instant. They pulled away with both of them sharing the same cheek tinted grins.

Damian emerged from the driver's seat followed by the loud camera clicks and calling reporters. He simply gave his signature Wayne smile before turning to the other side of the car to where Y/n emerges with the same celebrity like smile that she inherited from her father. From the moment they set foot on the carpet, the paparazzi just got louder and rather pushy that made the guards push them out a little harder.

"Mr. Wayne how'd you meet Ms. Stark?!"

"Miss Stark, how long have you two been together?!"

"Miss Stark look here!!"

"Mister Wayne! Look here!!"

To say that the paparazzi were going crazy would be an understatement, as they were going mad-crazy as the couple walking the catwalk is the biggest confirmation to the news that a union between the Wayne and the Stark has occurred. If they could only get to the couple to ask some, more like a bunch of questions would be the cherry on top of the new news for next day.

Upon entry within the Manor, their arrival turn heads and silenced chatters.

Y/n M/n Stark, the matriarch of the Stark Industries inheriting the nickname, 'Merchant of Death' in Manhattan. She was a much smarter tinker as she assured no such case like her father's long captivity ever happened again and all Stark weapons are heavily protected and can only be handled by the military hands.

Damian Wayne was no CEO but is a COO of the Wayne Enterprises. Helping his brother Tim in managing the affairs in the company. It's bad enough that the male is overdosing himself with caffeine while handling their nightly hero affairs, he was still his brother no matter how much they quarrel. Damian was willing to shoulder long painstaking meetings for him just to let him have a day off.

To see the two of them together would expresses a union.

Their matching outfit theme elevated the curiosity of all the attendants of the gala. Damian's slick three piece burgundy check suit made Damian look sophisticated but neat. Every young lady around the room were welcome to gawk at his figure as he glides with his partner. Y/n's own green gown greatly complimented his with its shade of green, its shape hugging her figure naturally that she loved. Every young man had their eyes on an emerald.

It didn't take long before the couple reached the group of people they are meant to meet. They didn't miss their wide eyes and dropped jaws. Y/n may be a stranger but they could agree that she is a beautiful stranger.It was only when Damian spoke that they have gained awareness of their surroundings.

"Good evening father, everyone. It's nice to see you all again," Damian began with Y/n holding on to his shoulder.

"I gotta say demon spawn you grew quite a lot for just two years," Jason earned a slightly hard nudge from Dick. Damian may have grown but he still has a tick with Jason's nicknames for him.

"Don't mind him Damian, why don't you introduce your company," the eldest said as he slightly push the white streaked hair male behind him that earned a look from his father.

Damian didn't say anything on the nickname thing and proceeded to introduce her which earned quite an awkward atmosphere on his family's side while the couple remained at ease in their presence.

"Stark its nice to finally see you again," Tim entered as he brought his hand out to which the woman took generously.

"Good to see you too Drake, and good evening to you too Mister Wayne,"

Bruce went forward to shake her hand, "How is your father by the way?" he asked.

"He is doing well, he's living by the countryside with my sister and mom," she replied with a smile.

"So he's settling down?" Bruce asked, quite surprised.

"Yes, he said life is short and he intends to spend it living it with us," She continued to which earned a bit of awkwardness with Damian's siblings. It was a rather sensitive topic but they didn't speak of it any further.

---

Damian had to separate himself from Y/n to help Tim a bit on the company. Seated by the bar, with his two brothers and his father, it was quite a company.

"How long have you two been going out?" Dick opened as you turned to him.

"We've been together for almost 1 year and half years, but we didn't started dating until six months later after we met,"

"We're you aware he just got out of a break up?" Jason raised.

Y/n took a sip of her drink, "I did, that's why I didn't let him to be with me until I totally confirmed that I was not a rebound,"

"And how do you know you aren't just a rebound for Rachel Roth?" Dick asked this time.

Bruce didn't say anything as he wasn't very much in touch with his son's relationship, but he did know that he loved her, Damian wouldn't risk his life for anyone if he did. As much as he wanted to stop Dick from pulling a rather sensitive topic on a person he just met especially when that person is someone close to his brother, he wants to know if the girl was just a fling. Y/n was known to have a number of flings before Damian came in to the picture.

"Damian is not mine to claim, whether I am a rebound or not, I still love him, you can try to make me say what we are having is just a fling but I know one thing," her tone was authoritative but calm.

They were doubting Damian's judgement with her relationship with her. Its not like she wasn't aware that he dated a co-worker of his. He was his first love and Y/n knew she might not be his last but she sure prays to whatever ethereal being that they last.

"I love him. Whether you believe me or not, I will always do even if he chooses her over me,"

Damian was her everything.

---

By midnight, Damian said his good byes with his family. He didn’t miss the slight look of sadness in her eyes so he took her away from his brothers' company. Damian was sure that they said something but she chose to protect them by not telling him anything.

When they got to the parking lot as they got to their car, Damian stopped and had Y/n face him. Before she could ask, he had already latched his lips on her. Giving her an ever so passionate kiss they always share. One that he always felt like he was having his first kiss the first time.

Y/n circled her arms around his neck before they broke off, forehead resting against each other.

"I may not know what went on between you and my family by the bar, but I want you to know that I love you. You may not be my first but I am deathly sure that you are my last…" he whispered to her.

#damian wayne x reader #Damian Wayne #song prompt #dick grayson #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #bruce wayne #batfamily x reader

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marauderundercover · 3 years

Text

Taking Chances Ch. 23: Stealing the Batmobile (Alt Prompt Driving)

AO3

Marinette looks at her little brother with an amused expression before asking:

“He really stole the Batmobile?”

“Yup. Claimed he was a better driver than me.” Dick says with a snort. Marinette winces.

“To be fair, he’s probably right. You’re kind of an awful driver.” She says with an apologetic smile. Dick clutches his heart and sniffles loudly.

“My own flesh and blood!” He cries dramatically. Damian scoffs.

“Tt. She is on my side, Grayson. As she should be since she is <i>my<i> flesh and blood.” He says with a scowl.

“The pain!” Dick cries, throwing himself off the couch and onto the ground. Jason just sighs and shakes his head, while Tim looks on tiredly. The five of them had decided to hang out at the manor together earlier, which had somehow shifted into telling stories about each other and funny things that had happened. Marinette loved hearing stories about her brothers from when they were younger.

“Out of all of us, I am likely the most competent driver.” Damian says, glancing at Marinette before nodding once. “And I assume Marinette would be the second most competent.” He adds. Marinette’s face instantly turns red- she’d never driven before. Her little brother (who was two years younger) was already a great driver. And she…..was not.

“Oh, uh, I’ve actually never driven before.” She admits. Damian frowns.

“Wait, you’re almost fifteen and you’ve never driven before?” Jason asks, leaning forward. “Like, ever”

“Well, no. You can’t get a license in France until you’re eighteen. So no one in their right mind is going to let a fourteen year old drive around the city.” She explains. She watches as a thoughtful look crosses Damian’s face before settling back into a neutral mask.

“I require your assistance with something. Follow me.” He says, standing and walking out of the room.

“Er, okay.” She says, furrowing her eyebrows. “We’ll be right back.” She reassures her other brothers. She walks quicker, trying to catch up with Damian who was practically running at this point. He glances at her and raises an eyebrow.

“Did the others act as if they would follow?” He asks. She frowns, but shakes her head. “Excellent.” He says, opening one of the entrances to the Batcave. She follows him, but freezes as they walk in and she sees where he’s heading.

“Damian, we’d get into so much trouble.” She says, planting her feet and freezing in place.

“Not if we aren’t caught. Which we will be if we don’t leave soon.” He says, rushing into the changing room. She stays where she is, glancing down at Tikki peeking out of her purse.

“Marinette, your father would not like this.” She warns. Marinette bites her lip.

“I know, but Damian seemed so excited.” She counters, with a small smile. Tikki gives her an unimpressed look. Marinette watches as her little brother walks back out, dressed in his uniform. He nods at her once and then climbs into the driver’s side. She hesitates, weighing her options. She could go with and attempt to drive the Batmobile, or she could watch her little brother drive away and know that no one knew where he was. Crap. Pushing away every instinct telling her this is a horrible idea, she rushes after Damian and hops into the car, calling her transformation as she does. She grins at her brother, her Ladybird suit had started giving her more confidence than her Ladybug suit. It was odd, but she loved it. He immediately slams on the gas, driving out of the cave and into Gotham.

“Ukht, will you be driving as well?” He asks and she hesitates before nodding. It was the Batmobile, what could go wrong?

---

Okay apparently a lot could go wrong, she thinks, watching as the Batmobile slides into the Gotham river.

“How the fuck did you guys manage that?” A voice asks. She whirls around, wincing when she sees Jason, as Red Hood. She can’t see his face but she can just imagine the look he’s giving them.

“In my defense, we were left unsupervised.” She says. He scoffs.

“You little shits left us!” He reminds her.

“Ladybird had never had the chance to drive before. It made sense to make sure that she could drive and to train her in case she ever needs to utilize a vehicle on patrol.” Damian reasons. And yeah, the reasons are sound. But the Batmobile slowly sinking into the river kind of makes his reasons weak. Just a bit.

“And driving into the river was, what, to see if she could drive a boat?” Jason asks, crossing his arms.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Hood. That’s a car.” She says, the words tumbling out of her mouth. She regrets it, but only for a second because then she hears Damian snort. Score! Every time she was able to make her angriest brother laugh, she gave herself a point. She was so close to double digits.

“Well B’s gonna be ready to go on patrol in less than an hour. Either of you two geniuses have any ideas on how to get the car out of the river and back to the cave?” Jason asks, pulling Marinette from her silent celebration.

“We could call a tow truck.” She suggests.

“Tt. That is unwise. The Batmobile is not a regular car.” Damian argues and she huffs.

“Okay well, last I checked you didn’t have any bright ideas either.” She quips, annoyed with him again. They were good at that. Laughing one minute, then annoying each other the next. She figured it just meant they were doing something right as siblings.

“Ladybird might actually have a good idea, Robin. Unless you want to call Superman here and have him rat you out to B.” Jason says. A devious smirk stretches onto Damian’s face and Marinette suppresses a shudder. She was definitely glad the kid was on her side. Most of the time, anyway.

“Excellent point, Hood.” He says, clearing his throat slightly before yelling. Well, not really yelling. Just talking slightly louder than normal. “Jon. I require your assistance.” A few moments later a boy flies down and lands in front of Damian. If she didn’t know any better, Marinette would assume the boy was another of her dad’s kids. Dark hair, blue eyes. But this kid had a huge smile stretched across his face. So maybe not.

“Hey Robin! I haven’t seen you in ages!” The boy says cheerfully before waving at Red Hood. He turns to her and his smile falters slightly before it’s back full blast. He sticks out his hand. “Nice to meet you! I’m Superboy.” He says. Marinette grins, shaking his hand back.

“Ladybird, and likewise.” She says.

“So what-” Jon (Superboy?) starts, glancing at the river, eyes widening at the car. “Did you steal the Batmobile again!?” He yelps, obviously shocked. And concerned. Which she understood. It’s not everyday you see the Batmobile slowly sinking into the Gotham river.

“Er, temporarily misappropriated.” Marinette says, glaring at Jason who snorts at her response.

“No, they definitely stole it. And Ladybird here decided she’d try to drive for the first time. What I’m not understanding is why you knuckleheads thought it’d be smart to drive so close to the river?” He says.

“Obviously I wasn’t thinking clearly, Hood. Can we please just focus on getting the car out of the river before I’m murdered by Batman?” Marinette rambles, looking pleadingly at Jon. It was odd, begging a little kid to drag her superhero dad’s super car out of a river, but it had to be done.

“Oh, yeah, of course!” Jon says, his earlier shock replaced with a wide smile once again. He flies over and grabs the car, gently pulling it up and placing it back on the road. Marinette winces at the water pouring out of the car. She was so grounded.

---

Walking into the Batcave, Bruce frowns at the lack of Batmobile. He’d passed Tim and Dick on his way to the Cave, so he knew they didn’t have it. Which left his two most mischievous sons and the daughter they had so easily corrupted. Hopefully they were just getting fast food or something again. Hopefully nothing bad was happening. He winces. That was unlikely with his children. He rushes over to the computer, tracking the Batmobile and accessing the cameras near the car. The image in front of him makes him pinch the bridge of his nose and grit his teeth.

“Just one day, one day is all I ask.” He mumbles under his breath. Because of course traffic cameras would catch Superboy lifting the Batmobile out of the river. Of course. He sits in his chair and watches as the kids argue for a few minutes before getting in the car and driving off. He tracks them all the way until they’re past cameras, and then he waits. Knowing it’ll only be moments until they’re in the Cave. He sits, silent as they get out of the car.

“No, seriously, he’s gonna know.” Marinette is saying, obviously looking nervous.

“Then beg Tikki to take all the water out or something. It’ll be fine, Pix.” Jason says.

“She’s gonna be so mad at me though. She warned me that it was a bad idea.” Marinette says, and Bruce decides to speak up.

“She was right.” He says, turning his chair to face them.

“SHIT! Goddamn you Bruce, why the hell would you sneak up on us like that?” Jason huffs out, glaring at him.

“Perhaps it’s the same reason that you three thought it was a good idea to steal the Batmobile.” Bruce says, crossing his arms.

“Uh, fuck that. I wasn’t in on it. I went out to try and find the little shits when I realized they were gone.” Jason argues, crossing his arms too.

“Ukht had never driven before. I believed it was a useful skill that she could utilize on future missions or patrols.” Damian says simply, his calm demeanor the complete opposite of Marinette’s current demeanor. She’s obviously panicked and anxious, avoiding looking at him. He feels his former resolve soften slightly. No one was hurt, they obviously felt bad. And Marinette obviously felt bad about it. But still….

“You’re benched for the night. Both of you.” He instructs. Damian grits his teeth but nods, while Marinette looks confused.

“But I’m not even-” She starts to say, stopping as Jason throws a hand over her mouth. “Well, well, look at the time. I’ll take them upstairs and tuck ‘em in before patrol.” Jason says, rushing away with Marinette and leaving Damian behind. Damian turns to Bruce and frowns.

“It did not go unnoticed by me, Father, that you benched the one child you do not allow to patrol. You may have done this in an attempt to not punish Marinette, but make no mistake she will remember this. And she will be on patrol later this week. After all, you only benched her for tonight.” Damian says, nodding at his father before walking away. Bruce sighs. He hadn’t thought this one through.

---

“What was that for?” Marinette asks, frowning at her brother as he drags her to the house. She drops her transformation as they walk, wincing slightly at the ‘we’ll talk later’ look from Tikki. Oh yeah, she was definitely getting lectured.

“He just benched you for tonight, right?” Jason asks, a smirk on his face. Marinette huffs.

“Yeah, but I’m not even technically allowed on patrols.” She reminds him.

“Except now, you’re technically allowed to come tomorrow. He said you were ‘benched for the night’.” Jason points out. Marinette opens her mouth to argue, then closes it. She blinks before a wide smile stretches across her face. Was she really gonna get to go back on patrol on a technicality? Suddenly, she no longer regretted driving the Batmobile into the river.

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queenoftodd · 3 years

Text

Dinner & Its Capitalist Agenda (Jason Todd x Female!Reader)

| Masterlist | Requests | Request Guidelines |

Summary: Reader is dating Jason and accidentally wears vibrating panties to the first dinner with the Batfamily.

Pairing: Jason Todd x Female!Reader

Word Count: 3,278

Warning(s): Smut (fingering, penetration), Swearing.

Note: The idea for this was inspired by the film “The Ugly Truth”. If you want to be added to a taglist feel free to message me.

This was not how this night was supposed to go. How would you ever overcome the undying humiliation of tonight? You had been so excited to try on the gift that Jason had gotten you, that you didn’t bother to ask why the new lingerie came with a remote, one that you tossed in your clutch to ask him about later. This was also partly due to you rushing out of the house to Jason’s car, because you were both very late. Add that to the list of poor first impressions that you would be making on his family.

The two of you had been dating for almost six months now, and while you had met Dick and Jason’s best friend, Roy, you still hadn’t met the rest of his family. There really wasn’t any reasoning behind this, you both had very busy lives. Both of you set on making the world a better place by exposing Gotham’s corruption. You were an up and coming journalist for The Gotham Times, while Jason was a--well he told you he was a military contractor for Wayne Enterprises, but you always do your own background checks. You sort of stopped digging after the news headlines saying that he was dead, if he wanted to tell you then he would tell you. Besides, you were too in love with him to care.

According to Dick and Roy, his family has been dying to meet you. You had to admit that you were nervous, but determined to make the best first impression that you could. You would be meeting Bruce fucking Wayne. Despite the assurances that Jason gave you that Bruce was a regular guy, you still could not contain your excitement. Both as a journalist, but also as a longtime resident of Gotham. Vicki Vale would have a field day with you. You had even begged Jason to help you pick out something to wear that would both suit his sexual fantasies, but be modest enough to meet his father, and Alfred Pennyworth. Caretaker and grandfather-adjacent.

Of course you had decided on a crimson cocktail dress. Just enough opening in the chest to give Jason the perfect eye-view of your cleavage, but not enough to make you feel uncomfortable to meet his family. Jason didn’t want to bombard you with all of his family just yet, especially considering that you didn’t know about his vigilantism. So he strictly requested that the guest list at tonight’s family dinner only be anyone legally adopted by Bruce Wayne (and Damian of course).

This came to the rundown of everyone that would be there tonight. That was expected to be there tonight, at least. Jason did warn you that their jobs tended to keep them very busy, and his family might be called away to handle their respective responsibilities. You understood this of course, you were very familiar with being on call. Especially in Gotham.

Dick Grayson was a former Detective in Bludhaven, and you had met him at least three times over the course of being with Jason. Tim Drake worked at Wayne Enterprises and did something corporate-wise that Jason didn’t care enough about to explain it to you. Damian Wayne was the only biological son of Bruce Wayne and was currently in his senior year of high school. Jason informed you that he could be a smart-ass and bluntly rude. The last one that would be attending was Cassandra Cain. Jason said that she didn’t talk very much as she was raised to be mute, and only spoke in small increments when comfortable.

Your mouth gaped at the sight in front of you. The grandiose gate before you held all the secrets of wealth within the “W” centered in it. You could feel his blue eyes on you, your face was a mixture of emotions. Nervous, excited, and--did your underwear just vibrate? You shake the thought away, blaming it on your nerves as you turn towards your boyfriend.

“You ready?” He asks, waving up to the security camera outside the gate as it opened. He glanced back at your soft face, unable to contain the smile he got from looking at you so in awe. You did not grow up like this, in fact your family had never had a house of their own. Seeing the mansion that the man you called your boyfriend had spent several years of his life baffled you. Of course you had seen pictures of Wayne Manor, but never did you think that you would be a guest. You reached for his hand, giving him an assuring squeeze as he continued down the driveway towards the manor.

When Jason pulled into the parking area in the front of the manor you could make out four shadowy figures standing by the curb. Your back instantly straightened when Jason came to a stop. “I told them to meet us inside.” He groaned, placing the car in park. You were thanking the heavens that the glass was tinted so that they couldn’t see into the car, because the butterflies were coming in swarms in the pit of your stomach now. Taking a deep breath, you turned towards Jason. A glare forming on your face when you notice his amused expression.

“Y/N, you look amazing, how are you?”

You opened your mouth to speak being interrupted by his lips on yours, silencing your thoughts. The feeling of his hand on your cheek as he pulled you closer. “Knock ‘em dead, beautiful.” His smirk sent a warm boost of motivation your way as he parted from you, and climbed out of the car.

After a few seconds of mental motivation, you followed suit, reaching for the car door handle when it opened for you. Jason standing at your door, outstretching his hand for you to take as you climbed out. You prayed that your smile wasn’t too awkward or seemed unhappy. Jason brought you over to meet the figures you noticed earlier. Dick was a familiar face, which eased you a bit as you pulled him into a small embrace.

“I’m great, it’s good to see you.” You beamed. You could already feel the eyeroll from Jason behind you. What could you say? You enjoyed any time you got to spend with Jason’s older brother. Next was Tim, who held a more shocked expression as he looked at you. Jason had to be the one to introduce him, as he was shaking your hand, but his mouth was hung open. “It’s nice to meet you, Tim. I’m Y/N.”

“You’re with him?” A laugh didn’t fail to escape your red lips as you dropped your handshake from Tim to press Jason back with your right hand, sending him a warning look before showing a gracious smile to Tim.

“For six months now, yes.” You giggle and immediately feel Jason soften at the sound of your laugh. Next their was Damian Wayne who glanced at you in a way that made you feel like you were under examination. “You must be Damian.”

One of his hands was cradling his chin as he took your hand, eyeing you quizzically before placing a kiss to your knuckles, your eyes widening. Now that was definitely unexpected. “Todd, I’m impressed. Now I’m done waiting here for you imbeciles, I’ll be inside. Y/N, pleasure.”

And with that he walked straight into the mansion without another word. Your eyebrows knitted together as you turned towards Jason, his mouth hung agape, along with the rest of his brothers. A tug on your arm made you realize you had almost forgotten someone. Cassandra. She was smiling at you, it was small, and seemingly shy, but excited? You extend your hand to her with a small smile and she takes it, her smile brightening.

“Hi Cassandra, my name is Y/N.” I gesture towards Jason. “I told Jay that you were the sibling I was most excited to meet.”

She shook her head pointing to herself and your eyebrows furrowed until she said. “Cass.” You nodded in understanding, repeating her nickname until she gestured to you. “Y/N. J-lover.”

You could see why everyone in this family was so charming and mannerful. The way he carried himself from the top of the stairs to meet you in the foyer echoed a confidence you could only dream of. You felt Jason’s hand squeeze yours and you mentally cursed at how clammy they had become. Bruce’s smile radiated the room, but you could tell by the way Jason tensed next to you that this was a rare occurrence. He had told you many stories of Bruce’s stoic--or in his terms, resting bitch face.

“Well...she’s not wrong.” You heard Jason mutter behind you, you smiled as she released your hand following Tim inside. That was when you playfully whacked his arm, before taking his head and walking up the steps to the manor’s entrance with Dick leading you two in. Upon entering the house, you entered the grand foyer. Greeted by a man whose face has graced many Gotham media covers and stations.

Bruce fucking Wayne.

“Y/N L/N.” Bruce grinned, extended his hand to shake yours and you met it with a firm grip. Tucking your clutch underneath your armpit. You swallowed your saliva as you shook his hand. Giving what Jason considered to be your breathtaking smile, beaming at Gotham’s wealthiest bachelor. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I’ve heard great things.”

“Mr. Wayne, it’s lovely to meet you as well.”

A flex of your armpit sent a jolt up your cervix, catching you by surprise. This resulted in you jolting forward a bit, Bruce now shaking Jason’s hand, as they turned to you. You cleared your throat to throw attention off of the present fluctuation occurring by your pussy. What the literal fuck was going on? “Y/N/N, are you okay?” Jason asked and you nodded, already feeling your cheeks heat up. Running away to examine yourself before dinner was not a part of your goal to make a good first impression.

Removing the clutch from your armpit provided a relief from the sensual feeling emerging below. Bruce had excused himself to head to the dining room, when Alfred came to meet you both in the foyer, briefly as he was finishing up in the kitchen. He was excited to meet you, but he had to tend to something in the oven. This gave you a moment to turn to Jason.

“Are you feeling okay? You just jumped out of nowhere.” I nod assuring him, considering the feeling subsided, it shouldn’t be that big of deal to draw attention to.

“I’m fine, I think it was just the nerves.” You lie, wanting to find a better time to excuse yourself to the bathroom to sort whatever was going on with you, out. Unfortunately he can read you like an open book, but for the sake of tonight, he just pushed it aside to discuss later. You followed him to the dining room where everyone was already seated and you had gotten a seat between Tim and Jason. Dick was across from Tim, Cass was across from Tim, and Damian was across from Jason. Bruce sat at the head of the table between Damian and Jason and once Alfred brought the courses in, he was to sit at the other end near Damian and Tim.

“Oh Miss Y/N, let me grab your purse, I’ll put it by the coat rack for you.” You handed him the clutch with a small smile of gratitude as he left the room briefly before coming back to take his seat on the opposite end of Bruce. You thanked him as everyone was looking eagerly at Bruce. Judging by context clues, they were waiting for him to make the first move to eat. Once he began to cut into the steak dinner that Alfred had made, the knives and forks clattered around you to also begin their descent on their plates. You smiled lightly as you began to dig in yourself when a buzz whipped up your folds, making you tighten your grip on the fork and knife.

A gasp passed your lips as a pulsating throb began in your pussy. You could feel Jason’s eyes on you, growing concerned as he noticed you weren’t looking anywhere but at your plate. “So, Y/N.” You’re eyes fluttered to Bruce, hoping your breathing was normal as you shifted in your seat. “How did you two meet?”

You cleared your throat, focusing on the sentence. “Jason l-loves to tell this story, right Jay?” You practically moan, shoving several pieces of steak in your mouth to avoid speaking. “This is oh...s-so good..” Your boyfriend’s eyes widened at the sound of your moan. For some reason his girlfriend of six months was getting turned on at the dinner table in front of his siblings and he didn’t know what to do. Jason had to distract them, mentally cursing himself as he opened his mouth to speak.

“It’s not that exciting of a story. Dick, how’re things in Bludhaven?” This diverted the attention from you for a while while several whimpers fell from your lips as you squeezed your legs together. You couldn’t take this anymore. Jason placed his hand on your thigh leaning towards you.

“Why are you moaning?” That’s when it hit you. The lingerie, Jason had gotten you vibrating panties. Your eyes widened, gripping his arm tight as you couldn’t stop yourself from moaning into his ear, your breathing heavy.

“Fuck.” You moan holding tightly on his arm. His body shielding you from seeing Bruce or Damian. “Lingerie. I’m...s-so wet, Ja--ah!”

“What--you’re wearing them right now? Where’s the remote?” He whispered through gritted teeth. He was struggling to contain himself at the breathiness in your moans. Fuck, the remote, you gave your clutch to Alfred.

“Clutch.” You managed to get out, focusing on containing your breaths, your body felt so hot. There was no doubt that you were so close to your climax. Jason grabbed your wrist pulling you from the table, surprising everyone at the sudden action.

“We have to go. Thank you for dinner, Alfred.” He nodded towards the lovable butler. Then he nodded at everyone else, still shielding you from everyone. “Bruce, Dick, everyone, it’s good to see you.”

Without another explanation, despite numerous protests Jason rushed you to the exit near the coat rack where your clutch was, but it appeared to be open. Two feet away was Titus, Damian’s dog. He was chewing aggressively on the remote currently causing you to moan in pleasure. Your hand flying to your mouth as your knees grow weak. Jason steadied you by the door before wrestling the remote from Titus, who would’ve bit him if Jason didn’t move quickly. Jason shut the remote off, taking the batteries out for extra precaution as he handed you your clutch and rushed you out the door.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as Jason put you in the car and he raced out of Wayne Manor, speeding down the street before pulling down a trail by the woods. Once he parked you turned to him in confusion before he pulled you into a kiss. It was heated and you could tell by his eagerness that he was just as horny. Considering that he cut your climax off before you could get there, so were you. You felt your dress skirt ride up as Jason pulled the troublesome panties down smirking against your lips at the feel of your soaked pussy.

Your breath hitched in your throat as he began to tease your clit, eliciting a louder moan. One you were grateful to let loose without worrying about his family. “Couldn’t let the panties have all the fun, now can we?” He huffed, moving his attention to your neck as he started on your neck. Sucking until his lips popped off your pulse, bound to leave a mark. He quickened his fingers pace, removing your panties completely as he inserted his ring and middle finger inside you. “Fuck me, Y/N/N. You’re so wet for me, huh?”

All you could do in response was whimper a small hum in agreement. Your vision was so blurred as his fingers fucked you deep in your soul. The car seat you were in flattened back, causing a laughter of surprise to fall from your lips as Jason climbed on top of you fully. You sat up to help unbuckle his suit. He had gotten all dressed up for you, a white button down tucked into some black dress pants and dress shoes that he had borrowed from Dick. His shirt was not buttoned all the way, exposing his chest.

“Y/N, fuck--you have no idea what you do to me.” And with that final thrust you climaxed, your eyes fluttering open as your body convulsed, releasing a warm euphoric feeling all over his cock, and the passenger seat of his car. You didn’t have a chance to catch your breath as Jason’s grip on your hips tightened and he continued to ram into you with this newfound stamina. His breath quickening and his moans of your name growing louder.

The belt was now somewhere else in his car, as he lowered his pants and boxers underneath you enough to ready himself at your entrance. You laid back down as he pumped himself, groaning as he was already so hard. It had taken you a few times to get used to Jason’s size, but now your pussy called itself the expert. You gasped, as he rubbed his cock up against your pussy, he smiled at the effect he had on you. How easy you unfolded beneath him.

You jolted back when Jason slammed into you, thrusting deep inside you. It didn’t take him long to find the right spot and stick to it. His grunts and moans harmonizing with your screams and gasps. “Fuck, Jay, oh--” Your vision began to blur as he picked up his speed, moving his hands down to your clit to rub it agonizingly slow. Thus increasing your pleasure.

You caressed his arm, looking up at him as you moaned breathily, “Come for me, Jason.” A look of relief flashes across his face as his own euphoria engulfs him. He pulls out of you, climbing over to the driver’s side partly to take a breath.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Y/N L/N.” He chuckled. “I can’t believe you wore those tonight.” You weakly smacked him on the arm as you pulled the car seat back into place.

“You bought me lingerie, you rarely buy me clothes--I got excited.” Your y/e/c eyes widened, looking at him, running your hands down your face. “Oh no! I totally ruined it tonight.”

He could tell you were upset, especially knowing how badly you wanted to make a good first impression. “No one noticed, I got you out before they did.”

“Are you sure?”

“I love you too, beautiful.”

“I’ll just tell them you were nauseous.” He shrugged, buttoning up his pants, gesturing for you to put your seatbelt on. “If they ask what happened.”

“I love you.” You say before leaning over the console to kiss him as he started the car again.

And Jason would tell you any lie you needed to hear in order to be able to meet face to face with his family again. Even if it meant making his siblings take a blood oath not to mention it. If they didn’t, there were always second impressions...right?

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sun-moon-stars-jedi · 3 years

Text

So we all know that Jason is a theatre kid, right? That boy loves Shakespeare and the classics, and he’s got such a natural flair for drama, he was practically born for the stage.

I imagine during his time at Gotham Academy Jason might not have had many friends or been really all that social on account of his background and most of the other students being snobs, so he wasn’t very interested in spending more time at the school than he had to. The one after-school activity Jason just couldn’t resist joining though was the theatre club.

What I want to get at is that somewhere in Wayne Manor there are videotapes hidden in a closet of fourteen-year-old Jason performing in his first (and only) school play, complete with Jason beaming at Bruce and waving at him after the final bow and Bruce’s proud “That’s my son!” coming loudly from behind the camera.

Those tapes haven’t seen the light of day in a long time and as such Tim and Damian have absolutely no idea what they are when they stumble across them one afternoon while cleaning the Manor (Alfred’s newest form of punishment when they get into fights).

As detectives the two of them obviously have to find out what’s on the tapes (and also they’ll take any excuse to stop cleaning - the Manor is freaking huge, you know?) so they unearth a VHS player from somewhere and hunker down in one of the less used sitting rooms, hoping that it’ll be a while until Alfred finds them slacking off.

At first they’re kind of disappointed when a stage and some clearly untalented teenagers appear on the screen, having expected something much jucier hidden away in the depths of the house.

But then little Jason Todd walks onto the stage, in costume and everything, and the video becomes a lot more interesting.

At first Tim and Damian are grinning, exchanging a rare, completely in sync look, because they both recognize an opportunity for blackmail material when they see one.

But then Jason begins to speak and they are both instantly captured by how confidently his words carry across the stage, recognizable even on a VHS tape, how he moves as if the stage was all he had ever known, how all the other actors seemed to gravitate towards him and their perfomances seemed to get better just because Jason was there.

They realise that Jason is good at this.

And not just a good actor like all the Bats are when they have to be, but with Jason it seems to go deeper, something coming alive in the boy they are watching from across the years, like he has found a place where he can shine on the stage.

Tim and Damian get so sucked into the performance that they don’t even notice how much time passes until they hear a soft “Oh” from behind them and turn to find Bruce standing there, something vulnerable and longing in his expression as he watches young Jason on the screen.

Neither of them says anything when their father joins them on the couch, eyes never leaving the TV, and together they watch until the play ends, Jason’s smiling face the last image on the screen before it turns black.

They sit there in silence for a while, each of them obviously thinking about the bright young boy they had just watched and comparing him to the Jason they know now. And yes, Jason isn’t trying to kill them anymore, he’s even working with the Bats most of the time and somewhat reluctantly acknowledges them as family, but he’s still so closed off, as if he doesn’t allow himself to come back fully to the family out of some sense of self-punishment.

“Jay‘s a good actor,” Tim finally says, the words inadequate, but they break the silence that had started to become oppressive. “Did he like the theatre club?”

“Yes,” Bruce answers, his mind clearly far away, “he wouldn’t shut up about it for months. He was so excited they gave him the lead in the next play because his first performance was so great, but then...”

They all know what happened then, and instantly the silence is back, heavier than before.

“Excuse me,” Bruce mumbles and then it’s just Tim and Damian on the couch, looking after their retreating father before meeting each other’s eyes.

And they may not have the easy brotherhood between them that they share with Dick, or the understanding that is so inherent in every interaction with Cassandra, but in that moment Tim and Damian both know exactly what they have to do and that they will do it together.

So it comes to pass that Tim hacks into Gotham Academy to find out which play the theatre club performed the year Jason died while Damian somehow bullies his way onto the theatre club and manages to make them pick that same play for this year’s performance.

And so Damian, pretending to be deeply unhappy about it, asks all of his siblings to help him prepare at home, because the imbeciles he goes to school with are obviously not on par with his own acting abilities, and even though his siblings are also not as great as Damian, they are adequate for the purpose.

Dick of course agrees immediatly, always eager for family time. Cass just smiles knowingly at Damian (and Tim) before she nods and Tim pretends to be annoyed but eventually agrees under the pretense of wanting blackmail material.

Jason takes the longest to agree, finally doing so with the declaration that he just wants to see Damian make an ass of himself in front of his whole school, but Tim and Damian can tell that underneath he’s actually excited about this.

So from then on the five of them meet regularly, which has never really happened outside of patrol, and it turns out they really have a lot of fun together. They joke, tease each other, make fun of Bruce, the usual stuff, but everything feels lighter when the thing bringing them together isn’t Bat-related for once.

Jason also starts to spend a lot more time at the Manor, not only with his siblings, but also with Alfred and eventually even Bruce and that is something Tim and Damian hadn’t expected, but they certainly aren’t complaining. It’s finally like Jason is a real part of the family again and they both have to admit they like having their big brother around - he’s different from Dick, rougher around the edges and not as openly affectionate, but it’s nice to not be babied or told to go to bed at a sensible hour, and Jason is always up for a prank war or other dumb ideas, so Tim and Damian actually have a lot of fun with him.

Then, after months of preparation, the play of course finally has to be performed.

Damian claims he wants a proper rehearsal before having to perform in front of the whole school and it’s not as if the other Batkids don’t know their parts by now, so they build a makeshift stage in the ballroom of the Manor and finally perform the full play, with Bruce and Alfred as their audience.

And while Jason was of course good in the rehearsals before, the moment he steps onto the stage this time it is once again as if he has found his true calling, as if something inside him has come awake that makes him radiate with confidence and charisma. His performance is breathtaking, so much so that his siblings oftentimes nearly miss their cues because they are so captivated just watching him.

After the final line a silence falls over the room, as if everyone is holding their breath, until it is broken by Bruce standing up, clapping as he looks from one of his kids to the next, something fiercely proud and loving in his expression.

His gaze meets Jason’s last, and they just look at each other for a long time, something seeming to settle between them after all these years. It’s not that time has been rewound and this certainly doesn’t erase the past, but maybe if they can have this moment that they both thought lost to a crowbar and an explosion, there can be others like it.

Tim and Damian share a look and even a tentative smile, and maybe this whole idea wasn’t only good for Bruce and Jason’s relationship.

When Damian stands on his school’s stage the next evening he finds six faces in the crowd that are only focused on him, and there is even a camera standing on a tripod next to his father, who is smiling proudly up at him.

Next to him sits Jason, draped casually across his seat, but he’s also smiling and leaning against Bruce’s shoulder in a way he wouldn’t have just a month or two ago, and that certainly makes this worth it, even if Damian will have to endure several more performances next to some of his less than talented classmates.

The things one does for family...

#jason todd #batfam #bruce wayne #damian wayne #tim drake #I know the timeline with videotapes doesn't fit anymore but let me have my fun #they make me nostalgic okay?#headcanon that turned into a fic halfway through #...oops #did dami have to join the theatre club for real?#no but he's a bat and that means he goes all or nothing #dick grayson #cassandra cain #my writing

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daringyounggrayson · 3 years

Note

Could you do 25 or 30 for Bruce and Dick? I’d really like for you to make Bruce say those words to his son!

I think we would all like to see that! oh, and for this one, I’m mixing things up: Bruce took Dick in as his ward but never went on to adopt him.

25: “You know I love you, right?”

30: “I love you, okay? I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it.”

AO3

"Mr. Wayne!” a photographer calls, waving his arm toward their small group as they try to make their way inside. “A picture of you and your sons, if you wouldn’t mind?”

“Sure!”

On cue, the four of them turn toward the camera with easy smiles.

“Oh, sorry sir.” The photographer directs this at Dick. “Could I just get his sons for this shot?”

Dick doesn’t blame the reporter, honestly. He was probably assigned to get pictures of the Waynes, and when you google the Waynes, Dick’s name doesn’t pop-up—at least, not under family. And it makes sense; he was never adopted, so he’s legally not part of the Wayne family. Dick’s relation is just a small, unimportant detail. And to outsiders, especially people outside of Gotham or people who simply don’t keep up with Wayne Family News, Dick looks like more of a family friend, if anything.

It’s an honest mistake, and Dick doesn’t take it personally. Unfortunately, that doesn't make it any less awkward.

Dick glances at Bruce, trying to decide what to do. This evening will be long enough as it is, and if Bruce would rather let it go and get through the photos as quickly as possible, Dick wouldn't blame him. And it’s not like Dick needs his face on another magazine.

Bruce tightens his hold on Dick’s shoulder, decision made.

“If you don’t mind,” Bruce pipes up with a charming voice, “I would like Richard to be in the photo. I did raise him for a decade, after all.” Bruce laughs to ease the tension, and Dick joins him to tell the photographer it’s okay.

The photographer’s eyes go wide, face going slightly pink. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize. I, er, here—” he holds the camera up “—smile!” The camera flashes twice. “Perfect. Have a nice evening!” And then the photographer is gone.

“I think I’m going to run ahead,” Dick says. “Find me when you can.”

“Dick, you don't—”

“It’s fine, B. Seriously.” Dick grins.

Bruce frowns.

Dick shrugs and ducks away from his group, heading toward the building. He ignores the flashing of cameras and calls from the various photographers, and he ignores the three pairs of eyes that dig into his back as he goes.

oOo

All in all, the party was uneventful and the four of them excused themselves early after receiving an alert that Scarecrow had been spotted on the other side of town. If Scarecrow hadn’t been spotted terrorizing civilians with fear gas, Dick might’ve been able to enjoy the free ticket out of the gala.

“Shit,” Tim mutters.

“What?” Dick asks, not taking his eyes off of Scarecrow.

“Forgot to grab a new rebreather. I still have the busted one from the other night.”

Dick pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a breath before grabbing his own rebreather. “Here.”

Tim pushes it back toward him, shaking his head. “It’s fine. I messed up; I can deal with the consequences.”

“I’m offering you the solution,” Dick insists, pushing back. “We don’t have time to argue. Take the rebreather so we can move in.”

“I’m not a kid anymore, I don’t need you to protect me like I’m,” Tim looks away, down, “like I’m Robin. Besides, I think we both know that I’ll be able to handle fear gas better than you.”

Dick clenches his jaw, then relaxes it. Not the time. “Maybe, but I’m in charge right now. So: take the rebreather or you’re playing look-out for the rest of the night.”

Tim’s head shoots up, eyes scanning Dick to see how serious he is. Tim takes the rebreather, shoving it into his belt. “Happy?”

“Thrilled. Let’s go.”

oOo

If anyone had to get gassed, Dick’s glad it was him. Even though he has an objectively bad reaction and treatment isn’t always effective, he has more experience and can deal with it better than his siblings. During and after. On top of that, Tim was and continues to be his responsibility; his top priority was getting Tim home safe. From those perspectives, it was logical for Dick to take the lungful of fear toxin.

Then there’s the selfish, probably more powerful perspective: Dick can’t stand seeing Tim on fear gas. The screaming, the tears, the things he says, the inability to comfort him and take the pain away. It’s awful to see once, and Dick’s seen it countless times, in real life and in nightmares. He’d do anything to avoid it—for Tim’s sake and, when Dick’s being honest, his own. He knows his family probably feels the same way about him, but that just means they’d act out of selfishness too.

Tonight, Dick had more say, so Tim got the rebreather and Dick got more than a lungful of gas.

“Sorry again,” Tim mumbles, passing Dick a fresh ice pack. “About the rebreather.”

Dick takes the ice pack and presses it against his right shoulder, which he agitated at some point during their fight with Scarecrow. “’S fine. Knowing you, you’ll triple check next time to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“No kidding,” Tim mumbles, running a hand through his hair. He stifles a yawn. “Need anything else?”

“Nah.” Dick starts reciting pi in his head, trying to drown out the voices he knows aren’t real. “Get some sleep. And good work tonight.”

Even with the gassing, he and Tim were able to take down Scarecrow fairly easily. It’s nice to know that the two of them can still work well together, even when the circumstances aren’t entirely ideal.

“Thanks, you too.” Tim bounces on the balls of his feet and fails to stifle another yawn. This time, Dick yawns too. “You don’t want company or anything?”

“I’m good. Besides, I’ll probably just try to sleep until Alfred is happy with the blood work.”

Tim shrugs and takes a few steps backward. “If you change your mind.”

“Night, Timmers.”

“Night.” Tim turns around and makes his exit.

Dick throws his good arm over his eyes and tries to sleep.

oOo

Unconsciousness comes in waves, broken by adrenaline spikes and Alfred or Bruce checking on him. But no matter his consciousness status, Dick’s reality is shadowed and manipulated by voices and figures, hallucinations and lies that feel like absolute truths. It’s hard to tell the difference between sleep and wakefulness, but the shaking is a good tell. He doesn’t usually shake in his nightmares.

He's in his room, lying in his bed and shaking. He doesn’t remember coming here, but that doesn’t say much. He’d been having a dream, something that felt real, but wrong. Something adjacent to reality.

A camera kept flashing in his face, the photographer morphing into something less and less human. And Bruce, Bruce had been there. Yelling at him, telling him to—

No. That hadn’t happened, and now that he’s awake, Dick can barely remember the lies.

Dick kicks at his sheets, trying to reach the cool air above them. At first it’s a relief, but soon it’s not enough because he’s hot and sweaty and something keeps telling him to run. He glances out the window, trying to figure out if he could survive the fall—

No. He’s fine. He’s fine.

Dick pushes himself upright, takes some deep breaths, tries to recite pi.

He jumps at the knock on his door.

“Dick?” the door creaks open to reveal Bruce, who enters the room before Dick can answer. “What are you still doing here?”

“I—” Dick feels hot, his palms are sweating again and he can feel his heart pounding against his chest, trying to escape. He blinks, twists the skin on his forearm until it hurts.

Bruce is in front of him, sitting down on the bed. “I trained you to be a detective. Can’t you piece together the clues? You’re not wanted. Get out of my house and stay away from my family.”

Dick shakes his head, fists his hair. The room feels like it’s getting smaller, twisted and darker. Louder. Wrong. This is a sign, but Dick can’t remember for what. “But you—no. You trusted me with Damian, you said—”

What had Bruce said? He’s a master manipulator when he wants to be, needs to be. He might’ve trusted him with Damian, or maybe, just maybe, he was only trying to protect Alfred in case Damian had been given orders to assassinate them. He’d already attacked Tim, after all, and keeping that fact in mind, Bruce would have needed to consider safety and who he’d be willing to lose in order to protect someone else. Dick’s death and its repercussions would have felt minuscule if it meant Alfred would be saved.

Hands tug at his wrists. It’s three fourteen. The voice is lying.

“Shh. Take a breath.” Dick tries, but it’s like his chest has stalled. “Tell me how many posters are in your room.”

“There’s—”

“Take them and go. I don’t want any trace of you left in this house.”

“Dick, you’re alright. Take a breath.” Hands are on Dick’s shoulders, trying to restrain him. He brushes them off, tries to get to the window. “I’m out of patience. I won’t be subtle any longer—I’ve regretted taking you in from the moment you moved in. Go!”

His fingers barely brush against the window’s lock before he’s slammed into the ground. His shoulder pops, making him grunt.

“You’re not thinking clearly. Focus. Wait it out.”

Dick struggles against the weight on top of him, but it doesn’t give, not even when he resorts to biting. The hands simply shift from his chest to his stomach, and his attacker doesn’t even make a sound.

The voices in his head build up. There are millions, all shouting conspiracies at him, all of them sounding too true. His heart pounds so hard that it must be bruising his chest, and he’s so hot that his brain must be about to melt. And, and—he can’t breathe. He can’t breathe. He’s going to die. This is it—he’s going to die.

A hand forces his head down, and it’s not until then that he realizes he’s been slamming it against the ground in an attempt to silence the voices.

“Shh, shh. You’re alright. I’ve got you.”

“Leave! Jump out the window, you’d be doing everyone a favor!”

Dick tries to lift his head again, but the hold is firm. There’s not enough room to hit it against the ground, there’s not enough room to shut the voices out.

“No one will miss you!”

The familiar feeling of a needle slides into his arm.

“Shh.”

Something happens. The room shifts, he shifts, and he realizes that he’s no longer shaking. It’s a sign.

The hallucinations shift into a nightmare that feels too real.

oOo

Dick wakes up to nausea and a headache. He tries to move his hand to rub at his head only to find that he’s been restrained. Bad night then.

He opens his eyes and turns his head. There’s an empty chair by his bed and the bedroom door is cracked open.

“Bruce,” he calls.

Damian steps into view, pushing the door open a little wider. The quick response tells Dick that Damian has been listening from the hallway. “Father is answering a call from Kent. Would you like me to collect him?”

"It can wait.”

Damian still hasn’t entered the room, and it makes Dick wonder how much he’d heard last night, how much last night has to do with the distance, the hesitance. He doesn’t remember seeing Damian at all, but he probably came back when Dick was still in the Cave. And even if they hadn’t seen each other, it’s not like Dick’s bedroom is soundproof.

“Everything okay, kiddo?” He can remember Bruce having a handful of especially bad reactions to fear gas from when Dick was a kid—they’d been terrifying, seeing Bruce like that had made them terrifying.

“Of course. You are the one who was incapacitated.” Damian tugs on the sleeve of his sweatshirt, pulling it halfway down his hand. “But you are alright now?”

Dick quirks his lips into a smile. “I’m fine.”

“Good. I imagine last night was quite difficult,” Damian begins. “Titus woke up several times.” Damian tugs on his sleeve again, he looks like he wants to ask something.

Damian’s head turns abruptly, and whatever he sees causes him to take a step back. Into the hallway, he says, “Richard is awake.”

Now that he’s paying attention, Dick can hear Bruce’s footsteps. Bruce pauses outside of Dick’s bedroom, and he and Damian exchange words in quiet voices that Dick can’t understand. Then Bruce steps inside and closes the door behind him.

“How are you feeling?” Bruce asks.

“Lucid,” Dick starts. Bruce tilts his head, expectant. “Not great overall, and I still feel a little on edge, but I think the worst of it is over.”

“Hnn.” Bruce looks him over for a moment, trying to confirm Dick’s self-evaluation. He must pass because soon Bruce is taking off the restraints.

“Did I . . .” Dick tries to think back to last night and work out what was nightmare and what was hallucination and what was reality. “Did I try to jump out a window last night?”

“Yes. I had to hold you down until a sedative was administered. After that, we decided it would be safer to use restraints until the toxin wore off.”

Dick sits up as the last of the restraints are removed. He stretches his ankles and wrists. “Did the antidote not work or something?”

“It either wore off early or the toxin was stronger than usual. Possibly both, considering how you reacted to additional doses,” Bruce explains.

Dick frowns. “How many doses did you give me?”

“Three. You probably won’t need a fourth, but we’ll check your blood in a few hours to make sure that the traces still in your system are gone, or at least decreasing.”

Dick groans and slides back down against his pillow, draping his arms over his face. The fear toxin antidote, while helpful, isn’t without side-effects. With three doses, those effects will stick around for days.

Bruce, the bastard, has the audacity to chuckle at him. Dick blindly throws a pillow at him, smiling when he hears it meet its target.

Then, “Are you hungry?”

“Not even a little.”

Bruce runs a hand through Dick’s hair. “Sleep.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

oOo

Dick wakes up alone again, but this time the chair is gone and the door is completely shut. It’s a good sign, and since Dick isn’t currently disoriented, very much preferred.

It’s much later in the day now, a little past noon, but he knows he could very easily close his eyes and sleep for another few hours. Possibly until the next morning. But to his misfortune, his stomach growls in protest.

With a dramatic sigh that no one can hear, he gets out of bed, quickly showers and dresses, and goes downstairs to find something to eat.

"I was just about to check on you," Alfred says when he spots him entering the kitchen. "How are you feeling?"

Dick shrugs. “Tired.” It’s a side-effect of the antidote, but the nightmares probably hadn’t helped. “Did you guys have lunch already?”

“It would seem that everyone has gotten a rather late start to the day. We were just about to settle in for a brunch of sorts.”

“Do you need help?” Dick asks.

Alfred points toward a tray of what looks like buckwheat pancakes. “If you could bring that tray into the dining room, please.”

Dick hums and grabs the tray, carrying it into the dining room with Alfred behind him. He’s just setting the tray down when Titus storms in, running into his legs with a force that threatens to knock him over.

He takes a step back with a small laugh, reaching down to pet Titus. His tail thumps against the ground as he takes a seat on top of Dick’s feet.

“Master Damian!” Alfred shouts, setting a bowl of fruit down on the table.

“What’s up with you, buddy?” Dick asks the dog as he bends down to pet him better. Titus doesn’t usually tackle him, especially not when they just saw each other the day before. “What’s goin’ on?”

Alfred tsks to the room at large.

“Yes, Pennyworth?” Damian asks when he eventually reaches the room.

“What have I told you about animals in the dining room, especially during meal times?”

Damian rolls his eyes, prompting another “Master Damian!” from Alfred. Dick almost laughs, but the adult in him tells him to stand up and keep his mouth shut.

“Titus, come,” Damian says.

Titus whines.

“Titus, come,” Damian repeats.

Titus obeys, tail low as Damian leads him out of the room.

“And please gather the others before returning.”

Damian mumbles something under his breath that Alfred claims to have heard. Despite the resistance, Tim comes into the room a minute later, so Damian must’ve done as Alfred asked.

“Morning,” Tim says. He juts his thumb toward the hall. “What’s Damian mad about?”

“Oh.” Dick huffs a small laugh. “Titus ran in here and Alfred kind of went off on him.”

“Ugh, and I missed it? Bummer.” Tim takes a seat next to him and steals a piece of fruit from the bowl. “Feeling any better? Bruce said you had a rough night.”

Sometimes a little fear toxin exposure can be so mundane and minuscule that it isn’t mentioned the following morning. Dick wishes this was one of those times.

“Yup.” Dick taps his fingers on the table. “What happened to your ankle? You didn’t report it last night.”

Tim looks down at the ACE bandage wrapped around his left foot. “Oh. Just an old injury that started acting up this morning. I can still kick your ass at sparring later, though.”

Dick snorts and grabs one of the buckwheat pancakes, deciding he can’t wait any longer. “You wish.”

oOo

Breakfast is uneventful, aside from Dick literally falling asleep on the table. Bruce shakes him awake after everyone’s finished eating and then drags Dick down to the Cave to check his blood levels. Titus joins them, pressing himself against Dick’s legs and nearly tripping him as they make their way down the Cave’s stairs.

One blood test later and they learn that the toxin levels haven’t budged. Bruce decides to give him another dose of the antidote.

“Fourth time’s the charm, right?” Dick says.

“Hnn.”

Bruce sets a timer on his phone, just like he used to do in the early days. Draw blood, antidote, set a timer, draw more blood. That had been the routine for so much of his life.

Although, Dick supposes, they hadn’t really had antidotes back then; they’d had attempts at treatments. Desperate attempts to manage symptoms. There was no testing to guarantee their effectiveness or safety, and their chemical makeup had been based purely on theory and desperation. It was better than nothing, but it was risky, so they took precautions: monitoring each other not only for effectiveness but also for the inevitable side effects.

Dick will never forget the time an “antidote” caused his throat to swell up and chest to stall. The timer had only had a minute left, too—they’d increased the time after that, and Dick hadn’t complained about having to wait the whole time for almost a year.

These days, monitoring isn’t always part of the routine, and when it is, it’s mostly to check for effectiveness. But since this is Dick’s fourth dose in a relatively short timeframe, his risk for adverse effects is higher and he needs to be monitored to make sure he doesn’t keel over. Bruce will probably force him to stay at the manor until all side effects of the treatment subside, longer if new side effects arise.

“Have you been able to get any restful sleep?”

Dick jerks as he’s pulled from his thoughts. “Uh,” he starts, needing a second to process what Bruce just said. “No. Not really, no.”

“Someone can patrol in Bludhaven while you recover.”

It’s an offer, Bruce trying to be helpful. Dick knows that, but something makes it feel like an order, proof that Bruce thinks he’s incompetent.

“I’m fine on my own.”

Funny how Dick’s still trying to prove that, after all these years. He remembers when he was eight and first moved in with Bruce, how he’d been adamant about not needing a parent, not needing Bruce, but he became attached anyway. He’d told himself Bruce was a want, not a need, but that hadn’t been true, not in the early days.

Then things shifted. He grew up and no longer needed Bruce, but he’d wanted him. Dick had lied to himself again, telling himself that Bruce was the last person he wanted. The lie was easier to believe on some days than on others, but it had been even harder to convince himself that Bruce felt the same way. That even if Bruce didn’t need Dick, he wanted him.

That feeling of uncertainty, insecurity, had been with Dick since he was a kid, and it had persisted and worsened as he’d gotten older. It had been exacerbated after Two-Face nearly killed him and Bruce promptly fired him from being Robin. He was twelve and lost back then, and in what he now knows was just his twisted, hurt kid-brain, he’d convinced himself that Bruce didn’t need nor want him, as Robin or anything else.

Back then, he’d been certain that pity and guilt were the only things stopping Bruce from tossing Dick out onto the streets. He’d felt like a burden, and he’d hated everything about his life in those moments. So, he’d done the only thing he could think of—he ran.

And Bruce—Bruce didn’t chase him.

That was—maybe is—the important bit, the part that Dick still thinks about. Not the initial rejection, not being fired—that Bruce didn’t come after him.

After all, that’s what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? For Bruce to prove him wrong, for Bruce to chase after him, fight for him. To want him.

Bruce fought for Jason, then for Tim and, eventually, Damian. It’s clear that they are and always will be wanted, and Dick knows it’s stupid, but he doesn’t always know if that’s true for himself. At the end of the day, his brothers all have Bruce’s name, and all Dick has is a man who stopped being his legal guardian when he turned eighteen.

Dick is useful, even needed on the rare occasion, but he’s not always sure that he’s wanted. And he desperately needs to be wanted.

“Something’s . . . bothering you.” Bruce’s brows are furrowed, searching Dick’s face and trying to find the clues that will tell him what went wrong and where.

Dick scratches behind Titus’s ears, looking at him instead of Bruce. “Just the toxin.”

“Hnn.” Bruce sits down next to Dick, grunting slightly as he settles. “I imagine that the photographer’s comments last night didn’t help.”

Sometimes Dick hates how well Bruce knows him.

“It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Maybe. But fear toxin twists things, and it’s been known to draw on recent events, especially the latest versions.”

Dick says nothing, just nods in acknowledgment as he attends to Titus.

“Dick, you are my family, in every sense of the word. And I . . . I was bothered by the comment last night that implied otherwise.”

Bruce reaches over and squeezes Dick’s knee, and Dick wonders how much he’d said last night when the fear toxin was in control.

“You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just—” Dick sighs, leans his head against Bruce’s shoulder, squeezes his eyes shut. “Sometimes I don’t.”

Bruce shifts. He cups the back of Dick’s head and pulls him toward his chest, pressing a kiss into his hair. “I love you, okay? And you are wanted here. So, so wanted.” Bruce holds him in a tight hug and traces circles into his hair. “I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it.”

Dick hugs him back and nods into his chest. It doesn’t fix everything, but it makes it better. And sometimes that’s all anyone needs.

#dick grayson #bruce wayne #tim drake #damian wayne #nightwing #batman #red robin #robin #batfamily #fear toxin #elizabeth writes

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headcans-oneshots-and-stuff · 4 years

Text

Viral hit (Drabble)

Warning: None Word count: ~640 Request by Anon: Could you do a one-shot where the batsis has like tik tok and they do a tik tok in the Batcave with Batman behind them and it goes viral?? And the justice league find it and are like what the hell?? Pairing: (Platonic) Batsis x batfam

It was a stupid accident and one that could have been avoided if you had just been a bit more careful. You had meant to send it to the batkids™-groupchat for funs and giggles, but for once in your life, you forgot to upload the video on private like you usually did - your tik-tok account just a random name without a profile picture or any posts at that point. The fact that the 10-second video of you - or rather Y/H/N - hanging from the ceiling along with the bats that had made their home in the cave while singing baby-shark, the camera moving down at the end to showcase Batman with the textbook definition of a disappointed look on his face was now up and in the open online went completely over your head until you came back from patrol. It had been a rather chill patrol and there hadn’t been any difficult fighting so when you, Damian, Jason and Steph came back to the cave in a rather chirpy mood you hadn’t expected to find your phone flooded with notifications. Oh shit. “Uhm...guys?” you asked after looking around to make sure that Bruce was nowhere in sight, “Remember that video I sent you? The one with...uhm...Bruce in it?” “Yeah, that was hilarious, it’s good to know he doesn’t just look at me like that,” Jason chuckled and came up beside you, his ever-curious nature prompting him to look at your phone only to freeze. The others agreed, even Damian, but when you and Jason exchanged looks - very, very serious looks - they noticed that something was wrong. “Guys?” Stephanie asked, and inspected you carefully. Both you and Jason simultaneously turned around, looking at your siblings who were eyeing you suspiciously. You had to swallow down the lump in your throat but decided that instead of saying anything you’d show them. “Catch,” you said, voice void of any emotion, and threw your phone in Damian and Stephanie’s direction where your little brother already had his hand raised over his head, not even flinching when the phone perfectly landed in his grasp. Thank you, Bruce, for making your children extremely good at catching stuff. For a second there was complete silence while Damian and Steph looked at your still activated screen before their eyes shot up and met yours just like Jason’s had done earlier. “Please tell me that’s a joke, Father is going to kill you,” Damian scoffed while Stephanie started to laugh. “That’s perfect! It’s a viral hit,” she exclaimed and clapped into her hands. “The video wasn’t meant to be viral! It was only meant for you and the others!” you shouted and couldn’t help but whine a bit in frustration. “Welp,” Jason patted your back and looked up at the entrance of the cave that was currently opening, “It was really nice knowing you sport, but I’m afraid that was the last time for a veeeery long while that you’re going out on patrol.” You couldn’t help but moan in frustration, but you knew that you had to surrender yourself to your fate…

“Uhm guys?” Barry asked into the filled meeting room of the JL, his phone in hand, mask on. “What is the matter, Flash?” Diana inspected her friend carefully, question marks basically depicted in her eyes. The speedster looked around, his eyes quickly being caught on Batman who was standing at one of the windows with Clark. “Take a look at that,” he whispered and turned his phone around, holding it out towards Diana. Her eyes went wide at the video of Bruce’s daughter with him in the background. “Oh, my dear Zeus, the child is dead,” Diana chuckled slightly and shook her head, quickly departing when she noticed that Clark and Bruce were on their way to them...

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phis-corner · 3 years

Note

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

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

Masterlist ◈ Original

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

Wait.

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

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

A truly despicable act, indeed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And okay, what.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--o0o--

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

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

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

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

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

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

permanent tags

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

unspecified

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

#maribat #my writing #asks #platonic brucinette

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shyestofhearts · 3 years

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🧵🪡Anon here!

So, I have an alternative ending to how Damian reacts to people being racist and bigoted towards him at the galas. My friend said that the end sounded kinda white savior-like, and asked that I submit an alternative ending? Idk, but here it goes!

After Dick alerts the family about what’s been going on, they question him on why he never said anything.

“I am trying to better, and not do anything that’ll make believe those stereotypes.” Damian shrugs, not looking at anyone. “Plus, I did not want to hurt Father’s business,”

“Brat,” Tim says softly, his tone conveying hurt and shame. Damian turns away, not wanting to show his vulnerability.

“No one ever noticed anyway” he shrugs. Bruce walks over to Damian,

“I don’t need their money Damian. I don’t need their presence p. I need you and your siblings to feel safe and comfortable in your home,” He tells Damian, “So I’m going to tell you what I told Dick, Jason, and most recently Duke,” Duke clears his throat, as everyone looks at him. He waves his hand awkwardly. All of his siblings can’t help but grin at him. “If someone, especially when in public, is treating you wrong because of something out of your control, I give you permission to act accordingly.” Damian’s eyes widen at hat. “Just don’t get carried away.”

“What does that even mean?” Damian asks bewildered.

“Well,” Dick bounces on over, “Once a Mr. Johnson tried made innuendos towards me when I was young, perhaps fourteen, talking about how he’d love to see just how flexible this *enter g derogatory term* boy really is,” Damian’s face turned to one of race. “I showed him by “accidentally” breaking him nose while doing a backflip.”

“Susan Turner said that Bruce probably saw me working as a rent boy and adopted me so because it was financially easier than continuously going to my corner” shouts of anger come from multiple sides of the room as Jason shrugs. Then he smiles viciously. “I explained to her that I was never a prostitute and that she was disgusting for even thinking Bruce would do that. I than, very loudly, told her I didn’t know she was familiar with purchasing rent boys, and if she thought is was okay for parents to do that to their children she needed to be arrested and have her children removed from her custody.”

“At the last gala some stuffy lady and her husband were drinking their champagne, complaining that Bruce was taking in more and more filth. Said, ‘Look at the latest one, actually looks like a criminal this time,’ and implied something about me possibly learning the ropes and being ‘the help’. I told them, the only filth around here was them, especially as the husband had groped a server a few minutes earlier and the woman just berated the server instead of her husband. Then I called security, who alerted the cops, and had the couple removed.” Duke taps his temple, indicating his eyes, smiling.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice,” Bruce says sincerely. “I just thought that if anyone was giving you trouble, you would already handle it on your own. I honestly expected physical fights from you, and when their was none I figured the guests had understood from previous experiences.” Damian nods, eyes glassy. “I’m in your corner Damian,”

“I can promise to do my best to sue the next newspaper or journalist who write racist bigoted statements about you,” Tim joins in. Damian laughs a bit at that.

“You do what you need to in order to defend yourself against those type of people,” Bruce squeezes Damian’s shoulder.

The next time someone makes a terrorist comment at Damian in a gala, his entire family is on alert and about to jump in to defend him. An older man is going on about how the country is letting terrorists in so they can steal American jobs, and they are sending them younger and younger. Damian just looks at the ugly red faced man, at his drunken uninterested apathetic wife and laughs. It’s not a nice laugh, but a cruel one.

“The only theft I see comes from you and your…wife. You both are wearing, though it is pretty passable, fake brand clothing and jewelry. You think I would not notice? I am a designer! It’s not that hard to spot. What, you couldn’t afford the real thing? That’s surprising, I would think you should be able to with how much you save from not paying your employees fair wages.” Damian scoffs, “You scream about stealing American jobs, but won’t even both to pay your employees enough to have the American dream. If you aren’t using that money on your employees what are you using it on? Perhaps more lines for your wife?” Damian asks, before turning to the woman. “You got a little bit of white powder on the top of your nose there,” He says in a loud stage whisper, and others are turning to talk about the spectacle. Damian catches Duke’s eye, and he smiles. “Eat the Rick” Duke mouths, laughing a bit. “Now,” Damian turns back to the now tomato-faced man, and cursing Damian profusely, talking suing Damian for slander and libel as his wife turns to wipe her nose. The sound of cameras almost cover the sound of the ranting tomato man, “Yeah, we’re down here.” Damian says, trying to not to be violent as the cameras are still flashing. But the man grabs Damian as he turns to walk away. Damian twists the man’s arm, kicks his legs out from under him, maneuvers him onto his stomach, with his hand behind his back. The wife is finally making sound, though it is a screeching noise. Dick comes to help Damian, followed by Bruce and Jason. “I got this, just make sure the security is here” Damian says. Security removes the couple, but the wife begins throwing her own fit, which is when the security suspect she is under the influence. They call the cops, and they handle to couple.

A week later, plastered across the newspaper is the couple. The wife has been arrested for illegal use of drugs while the husband was arrested for money laundering, embezzling, etc.

No one mentions it to Damian, but everyone at the table can’t stop smiling

Oo thank you for the alternate ending, Sew!

I love this au you've made with my entire soul and I need you to know that

#shy's asks #sewing anon #damian wayne #dc comics #long post #sorry it took me a bit to post #had an exam today and projects earlier in the week

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