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marvelstarker-mha98 · 3 months

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The Runaway Distance Life Of A Little Stark chapter 33: The Warehouse

Pairing: Tony Stark & daughter!Reader, Maria hill & Tony stark, Maria Hill & Reader, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanoff, Thor odinson & Bruce banner, Steve rogers & Tony Stark, Maria Hill & Avengers, JARVIS & Tony stark, FRIDAY & Tony stark

Summary: flashback, Avengers arrives in the warehouse, tony meets someone for the first time Warning: Flashback Co author with: callikc Tag: @venomsvl @geeksareunique

You were exhausted.

It was a few weeks after The Mandarin destroyed your childhood home, and you had spent hours attempting to fix up something you'd retrieved from the rubble.

A stuffed bear.

It was your lunch break and you were huddled behind a desk on the SHIELD helicarrier with an empty coffee cup, a very messy lab, and a tablet playing a YouTube video on how to sew. You'd think that being one of the top engineers at the top spy agency in the world would grant knowledge on basic sewing ability.

Nope.

You were hunched over the table with a tiny needle in one hand and the tiny thread in the other. Your eyes were narrowed and your hands were trembling as you tried desperately to thread it correctly.

"All I want..." You muttered, attempting it again. "Is to fix... This damn ear!"

You sighed in exasperation as you yet again missed the eye of the needle.

As you dropped everything out of frustration, the door to the lab opened with a ping and Hill walked in. She had a cafeteria tray in her hands which consisted of an apple, a bottle of water, a main meal, and a side of cake.

She knew you well enough to know that you wouldn't eat unless reminded, and the fact that the only wrappers in the room were instant coffee ones, her worries were justified. Not to mention she was certain that Fury wouldn't approve if his star engineer wound up starving to death.

"Hi." You mumbled.

She couldn't resist a smile. "Rough day?"

"The roughest."

She walked over and set the tray down on the only vacant bit of table left over. As she caught sight of your tablet playing the sewing video, she arched a brow.

"The Director really wasn't kidding."

You lifted your head slightly to glance at her. "Hmm?"

"Sewing For Dummies." She read aloud.

"Oh." You dropped your head again. "I can make an AI, I can solve the most complex sums and equations, and I can maintain any kind of engine, but I can't thread a goddamn needle."

"Nobody's perfect."

"But how hard can it be? I mean, sewing is sewing!"

"Yeah, it is kinda embarrassing." She teased. "You're a genius and you're beaten by a thread."

You playfully glared. "Shut up."

"Hey, it's fine. Let me."

"What, you think you can do it?"

"I know I can."

You scoffed. "Bit cocky there, Agent."

Hill teased you with a smile once more before shooing you out of the chair. You grumbled about it but pulled up another chair from one of the other desks anyway.

"Eat." Your friend told you, motioning to the tray she'd brought in.

You sat down with a huff. "Yes, Mom."

She ignored the mumble and picked up the thread you were trying to tame. She licked her thumb and index finger before gently placing them over the end to ensure that no stray bits stuck out. You watched intently the entire time, munching on the cake.

"This the bear you mentioned to Director Fury?" She asked.

You nodded.

"What's the story?"

You held up a finger and swallowed your current mouthful before explaining.

"It belonged to Pepper. She loved it, and she's probably heartbroken. I found it in the rubble a couple weeks back."

Hill picked up the needle next, bringing it to her eye level. "Heartbroken is a strong word for a teddy bear."

"It's the only suitable one." You shrugged. "It's only a bear but it's been everywhere. Pepper's had it since she was little and kept it in Malibu with us."

"I see. Sorry about Malibu, by the way. It can't be easy."

"No, it's... It's not." You slouched in your chair as memories started filling your head again. "Even though it didn't feel like home, it still meant more to me than I realized. There were ups and downs and fights and laughs and I experienced all my firsts in that place. I even discovered SHIELD there."

"Yeah? How'd that happen? Stark?"

"Nah, Dad didn't tell me. I found my grandpa's old journals, though. Howard. He talked about being recruited for the SSR and founding SHIELD and marrying my grandma having my dad. I never met him, but I felt like I knew him. Actually found the warehouse files in that hidden box, too."

Hill paused what she was doing. "The warehouse? I thought you just found it?"

You stopped eating, realizing the slip up.

You could attempt a lie. You did a lot of it growing up and you seemed to have a knack for it. Still, this was Maria. She was probably the only person from work that you considered a genuine friend. She would probably detect a lie instantly anyway.

"Sorry." You apologized. "Might have bent the truth a little."

She didn't seem mad or anything. Just curious.

"Howard had a file on the warehouse then." She stated.

"Yeah, sorry. Apparently it's a Stark thing, hoarding secrets."

"I had noticed."

"Again, sorry."

"What was it for? The warehouse?"

"Just storage, I think. But there was something else."

You moved the food tray to grab a remote and tilted it towards the ceiling, hitting a button and watching as a screen slid down.

"Movie night?" Hill joked. "What's next, a romantic dinner?"

You smiled and rolled your eyes. "Next week, sweetheart."

You waited until the screen was fully down.

"FRIDAY." You called. "Turn off the lights and bring up Project U.N.Y.S.B."

Tony sat quietly in the quintet.

He was focused solely on the ground as his thoughts were consumed with your last words. Even though he had only heard it once, the entire will seemed to be stuck in his head. He didn't have anything better to do on the flight other than analyze it.

The Avengers were each doing their own thing as music played through the speakers. While Tony was thinking, Natasha was co-piloting the jet with Hill as Steve talked to them about where they were going, Bruce had his own music and was listening intently to his headphones, Clint was apparently passed out on the other bench, and Thor was watching the clouds roll by without a care in the world.

Tony gradually tried to move his mind away from your words and attempted to look at a photo nearby. It was the photo of you posing like him that he had found a few days ago. It was resting on top of your SHIELD uniform right beside the medals they had awarded you.

It was hard to imagine you that happy. All he'd ever known was your anger and resentment. Sixteen years of frowns and tantrums. The only genuine smile he could vividly remember was the one you gave him on the day you died.

"Hey, Tony?"

He tore his eyes away from the picture and found Steve now sitting next to him. He nodded to acknowledge the captain.

"We've got an ETA of three minutes." Steve told him. "Agent Hill said we'd be there in no time."

As he said this, Natasha switched off the music. Clint shot up immediately.

"I was listening to that!" He whined.

She smirked. "Sorry, princess."

"Come on, that was a good song."

"Were you really listening?" Tony questioned with both an amused and genuinely curious tone. "You looked dead."

Clint pouted. "It's called beauty sleep."

"Ah. Right. You might want to clock in another decade, Aurora."

After the comment, he slouched back against the wall of the jet, glancing over at the picture again. Steve noticed and followed his gaze, a sympathetic expression on his features.

"You doing okay?" He asked.

The other man simply shrugged.

"It's still hard to believe." Steve confessed. "Ellen was just... Sorry, I mean (Y/n). She was so... Normal."

Tony scoffed in amusement. "What did you expect?"

"I don't know. She's your kid so I guess I expected... A lot."

"Gee, thanks, Cap."

"No offense. When I met her as Ellen she was kind. And generous. She made it a mission to help me feel at home when I woke up. I guess I just didn't expect that. From anyone, really."

"What'd she do?"

"She improved the suit. Made it modern but kept to the original design. She got me one of those tablet things for drawing, too. She always stopped to talk to me when we passed in hallways."

"So that's where it came from." Tony mused, having wondered about the suit for quite some time now. "She was right there the whole time."

"Yeah... She was amazing."

The other man eyed his friend. "You didn't have a thing for her, did you?"

"No!" Steve sat even straighter, his eyes wide. "I wouldn't, Tony."

Although he spoke the truth, it wasn't the whole truth. After running into you several times and having lengthy conversations about many different things, there had been a moment or two when Steve couldn't help but wonder what would happen if he had built up the courage to ask you out for dinner or a drink. Luckily he hadn't, especially since Tony probably would have killed him for it.

"Just making sure." Tony said. "How are you doing, by the way? Improved much?"

Knowing he meant the injuries from the Triskelion, Steve nodded. "Good as new."

"Great. Sorry to hear about Barnes. I guess HYDRA really gets off on ruining lives, huh?"

"Yeah, sure seems like it."

"You gonna go out and find him?"

"I've got to. He's my best friend and he's... He's lost. I gotta help him."

"No, I get it. Good luck."

"Thanks."

Just then, Hill stood from her seat. She turned to address them all.

"We're almost there." She said. "(Y/n)'s place should be visible through the window."

Tony was the first to stand.

Through the dissipating clouds he could spot what appeared to be a very old warehouse building sitting next to a gorgeous lake. There were even more buildings among it, three main ones and several smaller ones dotted around.

All of these structures were bordering a luscious clearing of towering grass and a driveway system. Furthermore, behind all of this was what appeared to be a thick forest decorated with hundreds of trees. There were murmurs from all of the Avengers as they each took in the place.

Thor was particularly amazed by all the greenery. "Lady (Y/n) left such a majestic place?"

"Majestic isn't the word I'd use." Clint commented, eyeing the wild lawn especially.

"Looks pretty good for abandoned." Bruce argued. "It's quiet."

"Peaceful." Steve agreed. "What do you think, Tony?"

Tony was subconsciously smiling a little as he observed the grounds and the lake. True, it was overgrown, but it was actually a nice place from an aerial view.

"It's nice." Was all he managed to say.

It was a simple review, but the others could hear the emotion behind it.

"I bet it was a SHIELD base." Clint guessed. "Abandoned, obviously."

Natasha took a moment to consider the warehouse as well. "Some rich guy's place."

"Hospital." Bruce said. "It's big enough."

"Some kind of training ground?" Steve also guessed.

Tony didn't put in an answer, he continued to just watch as the buildings drew closer.

It was hard to believe that after half a decade of searching, you could have just been Upstate the entire time. It was actually a big knock down to him. Years of looking all over the country and you were a matter of miles away.

How didn't he notice something?

"You're both right." Hill said, looking to both Clint and Natasha. "Agent Romanoff, care to take over?"

"Got it." Natasha nodded, taking control over the jet.

"There's another clearing just past the stacks."

With the landing being taken care of, Hill moved to a different spot, typing in a code on a keypad. After taking confirmation, a blue outline appeared in the wall which soon revealed a hidden compartment. From inside this she took out a tablet of some kind.

"Stark." She called, getting the man's attention. "Take a look at this."

Tony walked over as she projected the tablet screen into a hologram. Everyone watched curiously as the title 'Project U.N.Y.S.B.' appeared.

"What's this?" Tony questioned. "A new design? A mission? SHIELD sex tape?"

She gave him a look. "No. U.N.Y.S.B. goes with the warehouse. Upstate New York Stark Warehouse Base. It's got everything about this place inside."

"So what's the story?"

"The warehouse was being renovated decades back by Howard Stark before it was abandoned when he died."

Various reactions were shown.

Nastasha victoriously punched Clint's shoulder and he in turn muttered something about owing twenty bucks on a technicality, Steve was genuinely surprised to find out that his old friend owned the place, Thor of course didn't know the significance of the name so couldn't have much of a reaction, and Bruce was pleasantly surprised too. Tony, on the other hand, found himself both bewildered and shocked.

His dad owned it? How? For how long? Why this place? How could you have just happened to stumble upon it?

"Did (Y/n) know?" He asked. "Is that why she came here?"

"All I know is what she told me." Hill shrugged. "She was thirteen, found a box in your library from Howard's stuff."

"Why didn't she tell me?"

"Apparently you were busy with... Other things. It was one the few things she took when she disappeared."

Tony went silent. He knew that 'busy' meant he had simply just neglected you. Looking back he hated himself even more. He wished he could tell his past self to just put away all the damn inventions and listen to you for once. He wasn't his dad's biggest fan either, but nowadays he wouldn't have minded looking through it all with you.

Before he could ask anything else, Nastaha successfully landed the jet.

It felt like an age before the door finally opened onto a grassy clearing.

It was slightly more trimmed in this part of the warehouse estate. The trees were more scarce and they could only just see the sparkle of the lake from over the tips of the small mounds of greenery. The smell of the outdoors was actually very appealing, too.

"Follow me." Hill instructed, leading already.

The Avengers - for once - did as they were told, and promptly followed her towards the largest of the buildings. As they made their way across the clearing, she also pointed out the smaller structures, labeling them as storage and advising them to not mix up the buildings.

Finally, they reached the main entrance.

"Ready?" She asked, the question mostly directed at Tony.

He took in a sharp breath and shrugged. "Do we get a choice?"

With that confirmation, Hill revealed a key from inside her bag and slotted it into the door.

"So, my old man owned this place?" Tony clarified.

"Yeah."

"And now (Y/n) wants us to have it?"

"It's what she put in the will. She thought you could make better use out of it than an old storage compound."

He nodded and remained silent, simply watched as the door finally opened. He couldn't help but wonder what your life was like here. Did you enjoy it? Were you ever scared? How long exactly did you stay there? What was it like for you going constantly between here and Queens? Why did his father build this place?

The first room was dark.

Too dark.

As the slither of light expanded to reveal more of the cream walls and rough floor, something small emerged from the darkness, glowing and making the sound of a low groan as it approached.

Thor immediately went on the defensive, Mjölnir grasped tightly in his hand. Without warning he threw the mighty hammer in the direction of the glowing and groaning and a loud shatter followed suit, many of the other individuals jumping at the crash. With a slight thruming sound, the hammer returned.

Now with the door fully open, the source of the noise was revealed. In a pile of rubble - bits and pieces still sparking - looked what appeared to be a tiny robot.

"The oppressor has been defeated." Thor declared.

Hill turned to him with a deadpan look. "That's a cleaning bot."

He frowned. "A cleaning... Bot?"

"(Y/n) made a few to keep the place in check when she was away."

Clint smirked. "Impressive, big guy. The oppressive cleaner has been defeated."

Natasha smirked. "Really saved us there, Thor."

Thor didn't care about their teasing, but he instead looked to Tony. "My apologies, Stark. Allow me to clean the mess."

"No need." Hill told him. "Like I said, (Y/n) made a dozen different models."

True enough, four more cleaning bots appeared from slots in the wall. Each one was a different color - blue, red, orange, and pink - and made their way over to the mess of their predecessor. They simply formed a circle around the mess and all at once vacuumed it up as if nothing happened.

"Cute." Bruce commented.

"You knew about these." Tony stated, looking at Hill. "Have you been here before?"

The woman shrugged. "After (Y/n) told me about it. She showed me around a few times."

"Any tourist activities you recommend?"

"Just take it all in. As much time as you need."

Hill knew FRIDAY was around somewhere but she didn't want to tell him about that just yet. She thought it would be better for him to discover it himself.

The group had split up shortly after arriving at the compound.

Natasha had found her way into what appeared to be an old gym of sorts. It was well lit due to the wall-high windows on one side of the room and a lot of the equipment looked like it had been used recently, by Hill or by you she didn't know exactly.

The room itself seemed split into rows, each one with a different kind of equipment such as legs, arms, weights, and gymnastics etc. Natasha passed these rows curiously until she came to a door. Opening this, she was pleasantly surprised to find a shooting range.

She wondered why you would have one to yourself if you worked for SHIELD. Agents were of course required to use the SHIELD ranges for their training, but it was an elective for the engineers and scientists also. It was still useful, though, and she could already see herself spending some time there to brush up on her skills.

She moved towards a further back room and found the weapon storage. Among this was also a set of suits.

For her.

There was a white one labeled 'The Winter Widow', and a black one just like her usual suit named 'The Spare.'

Natasha couldn't help but smirk.

Steve had wound up on the other side of the main building, crossing some red tape that blocked the area off.

It was a large space covered by dust and grime, most likely part of the warehouse that you hadn't touched. It was extremely spacious, too. Perhaps it could be renovated into a series of bedrooms or offices, perhaps even a debriefing room for their missions.

Bruce had found a lounge, or at least the potential for one.

You hadn't done much to the original space, but a few red couches and coffee tables had been dragged into the area and made up to look like a living room. However, it wasn't this arrangement that intrigued him, it was a framed picture beside the television that had been set up.

After moving closer and putting on his glasses he realized that it was himself and you in the picture. He gently lifted it up and caught sight of his own signature glinting in the dim light. You had asked for it during your first meeting if he remembered correctly.

He also noted objects from later interactions that had also been signed such as a 'besties 4 life' mug and a copy of his very first dissertation on gamma radiation.

Bruce found himself smiling as he set the picture back down. Even if it had been a while, he was still grateful that you spoke to him about science instead of The Hulk like everyone else wanted to.

"Pop Tarts!" A sudden shout exclaimed.

Bruce, startled, turned around to see that Thor had joined him in the lounge area and was now looking through the kitchen side of the room.

"These Midgardian kitchens are a wonder!" The god continued to exclaim, shaking the box vigorously. "Lady (Y/n) has excellent taste!"

He quickly proceeded to rip open the box and take out the first packet, his eyes alight with excitement. During this little moment, he locked eyes with Bruce who was still watching in silence.

"Are they not free?" He questioned.

Bruce raised a brow. "I mean... (Y/n) said the place was ours."

Soon enough, more of the cleaning bots from before had shown up to hastily sweep away the crumbs at Thor's feet.

Clint, contrary to the rest of his team, had strayed from the central buildings. He headed over to the place he imagined to be a hangar. There was no particular reason why, he was just intrigued to see if you'd made use of the space. From the outside it looked like an abandoned pool house or another storage unit. Hill hadn't mentioned it, probably another reason he was interested in seeing inside.

The entrance was a pair of sliding doors. He pulled them both aside and let the light stream in. Other than the parts the outside illuminated, it was pitch black.

"Should've paid your bills, Little Stark." He remarked, stepping inside.

He used the flashlight from his cell phone to light the place up and look for a switch. Thankfully, there was one. Once it was flipped, blinds covering all the windows began to flip and lift up slowly.

Clint winced a little from the direct light. However, once his eyes adjusted, he was stunned by what had now appeared in the room.

"Holy... Shit." He grinned.

Tony had found Howard's journals.

It was the very same box that you had stumbled upon over a decade beforehand. While the rest of the team explored, he had spent the hour reading entry after entry until finally he was at the last one.

December 2nd, 1991 Electricity is a work in progress.

The warehouse compound is still under construction while Maria and I look for the new interiors.

The medical wing needs more gurneys.

Perhaps we could turn the west wing building into a library or pool. Might be nice.

It's a nice place to retire. H.S

Tony could tell that from the date alone that it was the last entry. Exactly two weeks later, Howard and Maria Stark would die in a car accident.

Tony missed his mother just as much as he missed you. His dad, on the other hand, was a very complicated situation. He didn't know much love growing up but even after all of that, Howard was still the man who raised him. Of course a part of Tony would always mourn. Still, he also knew that his rough upbringing was also his own fault. He was a difficult son, he was aware, and he wished he could change it. Perhaps in another life things were different and he had both parents and his little girl back.

"Mr. Stark?" JARVIS spoke up.

Tony quickly closed the journal, putting it back with the other ones.

"What's up?" He asked aloud.

"Forgive me for the intrusion, but I detect a familiar presence nearby." The AI explained.

"Oh?"

"I believe the source to be the room named 'Laboratory - Lair of Genius', approximately two minutes walk away."

"How fun. We love ominous presences."

Tony pushed the box to the side as he got to his feet and started walking. The corridor was dark, but just bright enough to navigate.

"What's that familiar presence exactly?" He asked.

"Another artificial intelligence, I believe." JARVIS told him.

Before long, Tony stopped at the door his friend had mentioned and saw a plague stuck to it with the name and your initials inside. Was it your vacation room? A hobby house?

With his heart pounding, he pushed open the door.

Inside was a room that was both messy yet organized, much like his own rooms back home. In one corner was an area dedicated to plans and prints. It had a couple of tables pushed together and the surface was dotted with blueprints and rough sketches of potential projects or inventions.

In another corner was a laundry basket overflowing with clothes. Some were also scattered on the floor among shoes and different kinds of cloth. Hidden among all of this litter was a certain file labeled 'ULTRON' that he hadn't noticed yet.

A tall mannequin stood beside the couch/bed as well. It was dressed in a white suit, much like Natasha's black one. There was a chest of drawers by that too which contained headphones, weapons that looked magnet-operated (like when Steve's shield returned to him during the fight), stationary that was probably a little more lethal than it looked, and a dozen bullet casings.

Tony only glanced at this, however, as his attention was instead drawn to a notebook that lay open in the lab area of the room. It was a calendar with schedules and dates marked down for various projects you had been working on, as well as parts of the compound that needed fixing or improving.

Tony had mixed feelings about it all, both in awe of your workload and dedication but also concerned since it looked like a hell of a lot packed into one. Your sleep schedule couldn't have been healthy.

He observed the rest of the lab area and noticed a switched off computer blinking red.

Tony put it aside for that moment and turned on the computer. Instead of just the power light, the entire screen flashed brightly. A form of scanning technology seemed to assess the entire room - and himself - before it turned green and disappeared. The next thing he knew, a hologram resembling a sound bar filled the room.

"Hello, Mr. Stark." It greeted in a female automated voice

Tony raised a brow, intrigued. "Hey..."

"My name is FRIDAY. I'm the artificial intelligence created by Miss (Y/n) Stark. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

#tony stark #ironman #tony stark x daughter!reader #stark! daughter #steve rogers #captain america #maria hill #bruce bannner #hulk #thor odinson #natasha romanoff #black widow #clint barton #hawekeye #mcu #marvel #avengers

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aziraphale-is-a-cat · 2 years

Note

So I have a concept rattling in my brain a concept to be ignored or not

Just 15 year old globe Trotter Danni being accompanied by her twin 15 year old reluctant globe Trotter Danny who together got the amity ghost infestation cleared up together and went on the run because two halfas will get hunted by the government and the Fenton parents.

So Danny and Danni run off to Gotham because it's far away from home and easy to hide in while there they befriend any of the bat boys.

I like to think tim Drake would just kinda want friends and the homeless twins are good age appropriate friends to have!

Dick grayson would probably not get the chance to talk often but would appreciate the time he did get to interact with them.

Idk why but I feel like if Bruce was the first to meet Danny and Danni he would be their age and tame them like street cats before snatching them off the street and whisking them away to Wayne Mannor to a extremely exasperated Alfred.

If Alfred met the twins first it would be very " you sure that you don't want to eat dinner with my family and have a bed to sleep in? " because Alfred would be an adult who doesn't want children on the streets.

Danny and Ellie would probably be just some street kids Jason interacts with because he has a soft spot for street kids.

Damian takes after his father in picking up sad little meow meows off the street and would also tame the street children like cats and take them home to a extremely exasperated Alfred and Bruce.

I'm not familiar enough with the rest of the batfam to think of interactions

Jason would 100% just look at those poor kids and be like: mmmmmmm mine now

And he just, doesn't tell Bruce and has them lodged in a safe house until one of his siblings inevitably crashes the place for whatever reason and discovers that the Wayne family trend of adopting black haired blue eyed children off the street is still running strong. And jason has to beg for the secret to be kept. Bonus points if Jason knows Danny and Dani are half ghosts bc Lazarus vibes and actively tries to stop anyone from figuring them out.

If Damian finds them it's like taking in strays, feed them till they trust you and then just randomly take them home one day.

He gets them comfortable with him, he sees the green eyes, questions the ruthlessly until they spill their guts, brings them food, and just one day they wake up in Wayne manor. Poof. Bruce had no idea about this, nor does anyone, but now he has two new children?

But I think Tim would be funny, maybe he runs into them while sleep deprived and thinks he's seeing double from the hallucinations or some shit.

Danny and Ellie just sitting on a park bench getting gradually more and more uncomfortable as some kid their age who looks stupid familiar stares at them with the intensity of a thousand suns. And they're panicking, thinking maybe they've been found out or he can just tell they're not normal when in reality he's just trying to figure out if he actually should sleep soon (the answers yes, the answers always yes).

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dc x dp #ask #writing prompt

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kleenex-tissues · 1 year

Text

Yours Truly (17)

AO3 here

Ch. 17: Meetings for Dysfunctional Families

“Alright, kids. I think it’s time we had a talk.”

Years of fighting by Bruce’s side hidden beneath the cowl of Batman had numbed any of the fear he attempted to exude when it came to his numerous crime-fighting partners, but as the anger shown so sparingly on this side of the mask came through, his kids couldn’t help but be afraid.

An ominous message sent to their phones just days ago to come home immediately had sent them all rushing to the manor, ready for whatever emergency awaited. Tim had come in like a hailstorm, no doubt having taken the emergency Kon-El route straight from Paris. Duke and Dick arrived a bit later, having had to finish up whatever personal missions that had found themselves tangled up in first. Cass arrived next, calm as she always was, but still covered in sweat and mud from her training session. Steph and Barbara were not far behind, having taken the time to find a stopping point in the investigation they had been working on together. And finally, Jason emerged from one of his safe houses deep in the underground of Gotham.

There was no Alfred to save them, as Bruce asked him specially to continue his vacation. This was something that Bruce needed to handle personally.

His eyes bore deeply into the audience, but Tim most pointedly avoided looking at him head on. He was sweating and picking nervously at the skin around his fingernails. His guilty conscience was obvious to everyone else in the room.

The ‘family’ sat huddled on and around the oversized couch Alfred had put in after realizing no, Bruce wasn’t going to stop adopting kids anytime soon, as Bruce stood menacingly above them. Damian sat in a chair behind him, uncharacteristically quiet. If they hadn’t been scared so shitless, his brothers might have noticed that for the first time, Damian was sitting with his knees to his chest like the frightened child he never got to be.

“Anyone want to take a guess why we’re here?”

Bruce was smiling. It wasn’t good when Bruce smiled like that.

Jason, as self-preserving as ever, was the only one to pipe up. “Did you finally decide to stop bringing in stray kids? I can only threaten to kill so many before it gets old.”

Dick pinched his arm from beside him to signal Jason to shut up. Jason only scowled at him in response.

Bruce was smiling with his teeth now, and it was collectively agreed to not let Jason open his mouth ever again.

“You always know how to brighten up a room, huh, Jay? I’m so glad you could join us today.”

Jason, who never knew fear, was now slack-jawed. Dick put an arm protectively around him, but it did little as said arm was shaking uncontrollably.

“Now, let’s have a little family discussion about boundaries. I know we haven’t always been very strict on the concept, but it’s time we begin defining those lines, don’t you think?”

Duke was nodding aggressively from his position on the floor. He was wedged between Stephanie and Cass’ legs, and if he scooted back any further, he’d practically be on top of them.

“First of all, no more meddling in anyone’s personal relationships. This includes, but is not limited to: romantic endeavors, friendships, and most importantly, pen pals.

“Secondly, we will not be sharing information that somebody else has requested be kept secret. Secrets will not be weaponized, nor will we threaten each other into submission to keep them.”

At that, Bruce turned slightly to acknowledge Damian’s place in the room.

“Finally, we will give out appropriate apologies to each other. Dick, Jason, and Tim will apologize for signing Damian up for a pen pal without his knowledge. Duke and Cass will apologize for assisting them. Tim and Duke will apologize again for having made contact with said pen pal, Tim for doing so without letting her know who he really was, and Duke for not only granting her embarrassing information about Damian but telling Dick without permission.

“Barbara will apologize for hacking into the account and secretly cyberstalking Marinette, and yes, I know you did that. You’re not as sly as you think. Stephanie will apologize for telling Bernard that Tim was also making out with Conner.”

“Wait, you told him!?”

“Not now, Tim. Let me finish.” Bruce cleared his throat. “As I was saying, you all will issue apologies to each other, as well as Damian. He will be apologizing for threatening Duke and placing cameras on every exit point in both the manor and Wayne Enterprises to stalk Tim.

“After that, we will all sit down as a family and watch a movie because I just want one night where my children aren’t at each other’s throats.”

“Actually, you never formally adopted Steph and I,” Barbara chimed in.

“Not the point. You eat my food, you wear my insignia — you’re one of mine.”

Barbara shrugged as if to say, ‘fair enough,’ and let him continue.

“Any suggestions before we begin our round of apologies?”

Bruce gave the room a few seconds before clapping his hands together and cheerfully saying, “Cheaper by the Dozen, it is! I think we could all learn something from it. While I go put that on in the den, you all can talk amongst yourselves."

They all saw the thinly veiled threat for what it truly was.

As Bruce exited the room, the remaining group sat in awkward silence, trying their best to not make direct eye contact with each other.

Once she was sure that Bruce had reached far enough down the hallway, Cass took initiative to begin the conversation. She moved across the room to gently set a hand on Damian’s shoulder and croak out a weak, “I am sorry.”

Her attempt at speaking, something the girl rarely did, brought the tension down. Damian offered her a gentle pat to the hand on his shoulder, assuring her in their own special way that they would be alright. She smiled in return, and the rest of the room began to erupt into their own sincere apologies.

Stephanie stuttered over an explanation of hurt before letting Tim know that she was sorry. He expressed his own regret and let her know that her feelings were valid.

Duke leaned against Dick’s legs to tell him how unfair he had been by using Dick’s feelings to get a leg up on Damian, before moving to face Damian, himself, and thoroughly apologizing.

Dick joined in, Jason begrudgingly, as well, and Tim let him know how badly they had all messed up, him especially. Barbara let out a remorseful ‘ditto,’ and Damian meekly accepted.

They were all shocked at the youngest’s sincere apology and the ease in which he forgave them. Damian had spent many years being spiteful, never wanting to show weakness by issuing anyone an apology, no matter how deserving. His way of expressing his true feelings was still emotionally constipated by normal human standards, but it was a new territory for him. His brash kindness was all they really needed from him. One day, maybe, he would be willing to be vulnerable with them, but for now, this had been enough.

When they finally wandered their way over to the den, Bruce was sitting in a recliner to the side of another enormous sectional. Blankets and pillows were comfortably draped across the cushions, and a few large bowls of snacks sat on the coffee table before them. Bruce had really gone all out to make the most of the night, and Cheaper By the Dozen was already paused on the screen, just seconds into the intro.

The group offered each other genuine smiles, Dick slinging his arms around both Damian and Jason to drag them towards a spot in the middle of the couch.

Tim wedged himself between Jason and the corner, sprawling his legs down the other side, Stephanie resting comfortably between them.

Barbara wheeled herself over to sit between Bruce’s chair and the couch, pulling a blanket over her lap and a large bowl of popcorn. She patted Bruce’s arm, and they shared a grateful nod before both digging into the snack bowl.

Cass sat on the end of the couch closest to Barbara, and Duke squeezed in between her and Damian. They pulled up a large fleece blanket to share.

Bruce dimmed the lights and began the movie.

They giggled their way through the first movie before beginning the sequel. Popcorn was thrown haphazardly across the room as projectiles, and Tim drifted off with a mouthful of trail mix. Jason had wanted to draw on his face, but Bruce stopped him, reminding him that this was a night for bonding, not embarrassing one another.

By the time the credits had rolled, the room was quiet. Tim and Stephanie were peacefully sleeping, cuddled together. Jason had fallen asleep with his head lolled back and his arms crossed. Dick was pressed in tight against his shoulder, drooling down his shirt, but his arms were wrapped around Damian protectively. Damian, himself, was laying with his head against Dick’s chest and his legs over Duke and Cass’ laps, who in turn were sleeping with their heads stacked on top of each other. Even Barbara had been lulled to sleep with her head resting on her fist.

Bruce took a moment to take it all in, and appreciate the many blessings he had been given. There wasn’t a thing in this world that could ever make him trade away his family.

He spent so much of his youth stuck in Crime Alley, watching his parents bleed out before him. He did not think he would ever escape the nightmare, but now, standing above the kids who had come into his life with a crash, he never wanted to look back.

He took a quick picture, which he would no doubt frame on his bedside table later, and turned to Barbara. He stood up, picked her up gently from her wheelchair, and placed her in the recliner he had just vacated. He took the time to tuck each of his kids under a blanket before heading towards his bedroom. Before leaving, he glanced back one last time.

“I really did get the best ones, didn’t I?”

#Marinette Dupain-Cheng #batman #maribat #miraculous ladybug #Damian Wayne #Bat Family #batfamily #BatFam #batbros #dcu x mlb #mlb x dcu #wolfish-writes

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

A Tear in the Fabric

Warnings: noncon sexual acts, fingering, oral, binding.

This is dark!Steve Rogers and dark!Clark Kent and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Universes collided as a malfunction brings an unexpected visitor.

Note: This is my first DC/Superman fic and a rare crossover fic. I really hope y’all like it but tbh it’s filth.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Your office shook. Rather, quaked. The glass vase in the corner broke on the table and a flash rippled through the air. You clung to your desk to keep from falling out of your chair. You waited a moment as an eerie lull followed. Then voices and rushed footsteps followed.

You got up and followed the several other bodies towards the labs. You were of the dozen or so people permitted beyond the doors and you slipped past the rest of the confused employees of Stark Tower. Natasha met you at the door and you both peered inside, the door at your feet.

Peter was in a heap, another body beside his. He groaned as he rolled over beside the other man and screamed as he faced him. He scrambled away and pushed himself against the wall. Nat grabbed your arm and you looked at each other. The man on the floor was unfamiliar and peculiarly dressed. He fell flat on his back and his eyes opened.

“Parker, what did you do?” Tony pushed between you and Nat as he strode in. His hair was askew as he straightened his tie.

The dark-haired stranger sat up and was on his feet so quick, Tony and Peter flinched. Nat stepped inside, ready to fight, and you lingered by the door. He was tall, broad, and he wore dark blue gear with a red cape slung from his shoulders. His blue eyes flashed as he spun in bewilderment. His hands were fist, as ready as Nat for conflict.

“I was just-- I--”

“Who are you people?” The man asked. “Where am I?”

“Calm down, Schwarzenegger,” Tony raised his hands. “We’re all friends here… and we’re wondering the same about you.”

“I’m…” The man’s eyes bounced from person to person. “...Superman?”

“Are you asking me?” Tony scoffed and brushed past him. “Kid, what did you?”

“I was just… looking at the particles--”

“Looking?! And maybe some touching?” Tony shouted. “I told you they’re not toys.”

“I know. I was just-- I figured something out and--”

“Broke every window on the floor!” Tony interjected. “And zapped in Adonis 3000 over here for good measure.”

“Um,” The dark-haired man looked around. “Can someone please tell me where I am?”

“New York. Stark Tower.” Tony hissed over his shoulder as he stormed towards Peter.

You glanced over as you heard footsteps echo behind you. Steve, Bucky, and Sam were nearly tripping over each other and skidded to a halt in the doorway.

“What’s going on?” Steve asked.

“We’re still trying to figure that out,” You kept your voice down. “Peter--”

“Peter, of course,” Bucky huffed as he crossed his arms.

“Who’s the muscle man?” Sam nodded to the stranger as he stared with consternation at one of Tony’s contraptions.

“Good question,” You passed through the door and Steve caught your arm.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“Well, since Tony can only manage to yell at the kid, I’m going to get to the bottom of this.”

“He could be dangerous,” Steve said quietly.

“And I’ve got the most dangerous heroes all around me.” You brushed his hand from your arm. “I think if he meant to do something, he’d already have.”

The man seemed even bigger the closer you got. As you neared, you recalled you were the only one in the room without combat training, a special suit, or enhanced abilities. You were just the one who did the paperwork to clean up after all the rest. You cleared your throat.

“Um, hello,” You tried to smile and the man turned to you, blue eyes blazing. “That’s a, uh, nice cape. Were you by chance at a costume party or--”

“I’m Superman.” He repeated, this time firmer. He looked at you as if you were dumb.

“Yes, okay, well you are at Stark Tower… in New York? Where are you from?”

“Metropolis,” He spoke again with the same obvious tone. “Stark Tower? Never heard of it.”

“Tony Stark?” You blinked. “He runs Stark Industries.”

“Ah, like Wayne Industries,” He said. “Maybe he knows Bruce.”

“Wayne Industries?” You wondered. “What’s--”

“In Gotham City. Bruce Wayne; the world’s most infamous playboy?” He said with venom.

“Actually that’s my title,” Tony turned as he finally quit berating Peter. “Never heard of this Wayne guy.”

The man scowled and turned to Tony. “Well, you sound like him.’

“I hate to break it to you, beefcake, but you’re a long way from home.” Tony crossed his arms. “Without precise data, I’d surmise a few thousand dimensions away.”

“Dimensions? That’s--”

“Look, I could go into the science of it but I think that might be a bit over your head. To put it simply, we have these magical little particles that can affect the fabric of space and time. Maybe throw us back a few years here or there but it seems my… protege here decided to go sideways instead of backwards or forwards.” Tony explained. “What I’m trying to say is that whoever you are, Capeman or whatever, well, this isn’t the world you’re used to saving.”

“But you ended up in the right place,” Nat intoned. “Seems we have the same interests in mind.”

“Keeping people safe,” Steve added. “Right?”

“Of course,” The caped stranger spun around. “Forgive me if this isn’t a bit… unbelievable.”

“Buddy, I wish I could say it was just a dream,” Tony sighed. “Or a nightmare. However you wanna see it. The good news is, if I can get the kid to do exactly what he just did, we might be able to send you back.”

“Well, um, Mr. Stark…” Peter piped up from behind him. “I kinda… well, the stabilizer isn’t… working anymore.”

“Someone get the kid out of here,” Tony pinched his nose. “Please. I can’t look at him. I’m going to close my eyes and count to ten and he better be gone.”

“What does that mean?” The strange man asked. “Stabilizer?”

“It means,” Tony ignored Peter as he was ushered out by Natasha. “That you’re stuck here for a while… hopefully not forever.”

“Stuck?”

“Don’t worry. We’re not gonna toss you out on the street to terrorize the public.” Tony assured. “We’re just going to--”

The man raised his index finger and touched his temple as he hushed everyone. His forehead wrinkled as he listened and his hand formed a fist. He was suddenly gone as he darted out in a blur of blue and red; a speeding, flying blur.

You looked around as Tony stood with his mouth open and the three men around the door grimaced. Steve frowned and turned to rush out after him. You followed but barely reached the end of the hall, where others watched from the other side of the clear walls. The lot of you were stopped by the reappearance of the man in a furious gust.

“What the hell was that about?” Stark snorted as he caught up.

“Robbery. Ten blocks down. Suspect subdued, waiting for police.” The man confirmed with an arched brow.

“Tony,” Sam turned to look at his boss.

Tony nodded begrudgingly.

“So, Superman, is it?”

“Yes.”

“Do you mind cooling it while we try to figure out how to get you back home?”

“Cooling it?”

“Don’t worry, I won’t stop you from saving this world,” Tony chuckled. “Just… try to loosen up.”

“Mmm,” The man grumbled. “I’ll try.”

Tony winked at you and beckoned to the three other men. You knew that look; ‘take care of it’. Bucky and Sam crossed to Tony and Steve squinted at you before reluctantly following. You turned back to the stranger who called himself Superman and held out your hand and introduced yourself.

“Guess it doesn’t matter so much if you know my name,” He took your hand in his large one. “Clark. Clark Kent. Reporter.”

“Oh,” You smiled. “I always wondered what it’d be like to be a reporter.”

“Boring, most days,” He shrugged. “What do I do now?”

“Well, it’s kinda my job to get you situated.” You turned halfway between him and the other men. “Tony is the one you were talking to, the blond is Steve, the one in the middle is Bucky, and then you have Sam. Natasha was the one who took the kid, Peter out. And there’s a few more back at the compound.”

“Compound?” He wondered.

“Most of the Avengers live there. For response purposes, in case of emergency, they need to be able to mobilise,” You explained.

“You’re not an… Avenger?” He asked.

“I’m… a glorified babysitter and some would call me little more than a secretary,” You shook your head. “But no, not one of them.”

“Hmm,” He lowered his chin and thought. You peeked over at the others and Steve’s gaze met yours before it strayed to the large man across from you. “Well, where do we begin?”

“I’ll have to figure that out,” You replied. “Just this way.”

💥

One week. One week and it was a shit show. Tony still couldn’t figure out what was wrong with the stabilizer, even with Banner’s help, and Peter was in virtual exile. You were left to watch over your visitor and the rest of the lot. For the most part, they were friendly but wary. All except one who seemed entirely suspicious of the man in the red cape.

The very one sat across from you. Steve stared at the tablet as you went through his last mission report and the numbers attached to the collateral. You hated it but Tony demanded it and you knew it wasn’t for his own needs. He had government agencies and the military breathing down his neck every day.

You leaned on your elbow as you went through your usual schtick, scribbling down Steve’s explanation and aligning them with the events noted in the report. You were roused by the knock that killed the drone of Steve’s voice. Your door opened and you smiled at Clark as he peered through shyly.

“Sorry, to interrupt. I guess I’m early. I’ll just wait out here.”

“It’s fine. We’re almost done,” You replied. “It’ll be about five minutes.”

“Thanks,” He backed up and shut the door.

You looked at Steve as he crossed his arms and frowned.

“Why’s he here?”

“Tony’s thinking about giving him missions. He’s going to be given access to training rooms and I told him I’d show him around the Tower.” You explained. “Anyways, the factory--”

“Oh? You and him… you his chaperone now?”

“As much as I am yours,” You half-sang. “Steve, let’s just get this done with.”

“We don’t know him. We don’t know if he is who he says he is.”

“I think we would know by now.” You countered.

“Wherever he’s from, how do we know he’s a good guy there?”

“How does he know we’re the good guys?” You returned. “Steve, come on. He’s… nice.”

“To you,” Steve said pointedly.

“And you?” You wondered.

Steve shrugged. He tapped his fingers on his leg and huffed.

“A car was diverted through the factory wall so that I could keep a civilian from getting hit instead. I did my best to aim it away from the building but was able to prevent casualties.” Steve recited. “Human life is worth more than concrete.”

“Mmhmm,” You stared at him a moment before you wrote down his explanation. “Alright, then, I guess we’re done.”

“I can show him around,” Steve stood. “If you want. You must be busy.”

“I need to register him in the system--”

“So do it. I’ll give him the tour.” Steve insisted. “I’ll give him a chance.”

“You sure?” You asked.

“Eh, we could use a fourth on poker night,” Steve said. “And you can catch up on work.”

“Deal.” You closed the folder and slid the tablet aside. “You’ll see, Steve. He’s a good guy.”

Steve pressed his lips together and nodded. “I’m sure.” He neared the door and grabbed the handle. “If you say so.”

💥

You strode through the halls of the Tower on your way to drop off your weekly rundown to Tony. Your eye was caught as you passed by the transparent wall of the Tower gym. At the compound, there were several but a few people used that at the Tower when they had business on site. You stopped and turned to find Clark waving at you through the plexiglass

You let yourself in and crossed to him as he sat on the weight bench. His thick muscles peeked out from beneath his grey tank as he smiled up at you.

“I haven’t seen you much lately,” He greeted.

“Yeah, lots of work,” You waved the folder in your hand. “How’s life in the compound?”

“Different. Still.” He said. “Tony says it should be much longer.”

“You miss home?” You asked.

“Well… sometimes. A lot happened before I ended up here that makes me think, well, maybe I’m better off.”

“I’m sorry,” You said. “I didn’t mean to--”

“No, it’s… nice to have someone actually ask me how I’m doing.” He stood and went to the bar, carefully unscrewing the large weights. “Everyone here is nice, I guess, but… you’re nicer.”

“Heh, well, that’s half my job,” You chimed. “Smiling in the face of adversity.”

“I don’t think I’m very good at that,” He laughed and you both looked over as the door opened. “Not at all.”

“Hey, Steve,” You called to the new arrival.

“Hey,” He was evasive as he went to another machine.

“Case and point,” Clark placed the weights on the rack one at a time as he spoke.

“What?” You looked over at Steve again then back to Clark. “I thought-- didn’t he show you around the other day?”

“Oh yes, he did,” Clark finished up and clapped his hand on his shorts. “He told me how things were around here.”

“I’m sorry. I should’ve done it--”

“I can take care of myself,” Clark assured you. “It was nothing. Can I walk you to… wherever you’re going?”

“Sure,” You smiled as he grabbed his bag. “I… I interrupted, though.”

“If you don’t mind my sweat, I don’t,” He affirmed.

He opened the door for you and you glanced back at Steve as he sat on the squat machine. He looked back at you and lifted a brow. You smiled and his gaze flicked over to Clark and he scowled. You hid your confusion and continued down the hall.

You’d never seen Steve like that; usually you admired how amiable he could be. Always smiling, always helpful. Perhaps Peter had done more than tear a hole in the universe.

💥

It was rare that you weren’t kept late on Friday. Even more unexpected that Steve would invite you to a movie. Sure, it was a pastime that you, along with Bucky, Sam, and sometimes Nat, would get together for, but it was so last minute you felt entirely unprepared. As you had felt for much of the last few weeks.

As you headed out from the Tower, you found yourself diverted by the scene you found in the hallway. Clark stood, hands in pocket, reading a glass plaque on the wall. There were several through the offices; each explained a different milestone in Stark Industries. He leaned closer and adjusted his glasses; those were Clark’s, not Superman’s he clarified.

You neared quietly and gripped your bag. “Learn anything interesting?”

“Not particularly,” He stopped reading and turned to you. “I like Tony, despite the obvious but… well, I don’t think anyone could ever like him as much as he likes himself.”

“He prefers people to think so,” You said. “What are you doing here?”

“They said they might have fixed the machine or whatever,” He explained. “They didn’t. The particles… They need more of those too. Said something about calling someone to get more? I don’t know, they seem to think I’m too stupid to understand any of it. You know, even my earth isn’t my home. I just happened to fall there… like I did here.”

“Krypton,” You offered. He’d told you a little about it, not much. “I’m sorry you--”

“I don’t miss it. I never knew it.” He shrugged. “I think what’s bugging me is I don’t even miss the place I should. My earth; Metropolis.”

“You had parents there?”

“Had…” He frowned.

“Anyone else?” You prodded.

“At one time but she-- Sometimes things just don’t work out.” He gave a grim smile.

You were silent for a moment. You looked over at the plaque, at the translucent outline of the helmet that topped the famous Iron Man suit. You fidgeted and glanced back at Clark.

“You wanna see a movie?”

“A movie?” His brows drew together.

“Yeah, kinda something we like to do around here when we’re not crammed in here like ants in a hill,” You said. “Bucky, Steve, Sam; they should all be there.”

“Ah,” He nodded hesitantly. “Well, I don’t know. I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Is it Steve? Don’t worry about him. I’m inviting you as my guest.”

“Well, in that case,” He smiled, genuinely that time.

You nodded down the hall and he gestured you ahead of him, following with his arm almost against yours.

“You know, you and Steve, you got a lot in common.” You said. “Now I’m not saying you have to be best friends but he was once you. One day, he was back in the forties and the next he’s stranded in the next century. I always thought it sounded lonely.”

“Really?” Clark asked. “I never… I didn’t know that.”

“Bucky too but… that’s a long story,” You led him to the elevators and hit the button. “I know they’re stubborn, always have been but I think you’ll see, you’re a lot more alike than you think.

💥

You walked into the movie theatre, staring at your phone as you texted Steve to let him know you were there. Clark grabbed your arm before you could collide with another moviegoer and you thanked him as you awaited a response. You stood awkwardly near the entrance, watching the scores of people and adrift in the smell of popcorn.

“Arcade,” Steve finally replied. “Claw machine.”

You told Clark to follow and dove into the crowd. You followed the current to the arcade and broke off. You stepped past the racing game and the electronic poker and spotted Steve’s broad shoulders as he fought with the stick of the machine. You neared as he bent to grab his prize from the open door beneath.

“Hey,” You chimed.

“Hey, just in time,” He turned with the stuffed rabbit in hand, “This is for--”

His voice died as his eyes settled on Clark. He grimaced and cleared his throat.

“For you.” He finished and kept his glare above you. “Clark.”

“Thanks,” You took it hesitantly. “Where is everyone else?”

“What do you mean?” Steve asked.

“I thought… Oh, well, I just, we usually, all of us,” You found it hard to complete a sentence. “I invited Clark so he wouldn’t be alone and--”

“Cool. That’s cool.” Steve said tersely. “I was waiting to ask you what you wanted to see so… didn’t get tickets yet.”

You smiled and looked down at the rabbit. You realised you might have misread Steve’s text. Yet you didn’t want to assume he meant this as anything more than your usual friendly get together either. You were certain he was just mad that Clark was there because for whatever reason, he just didn’t like him.

“Well, what’s playing?” You asked.

“The only thing still available is that horror movie, Crimson, or that comedy about the mime.” He said. “I’m not big on scary movies but--”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect ya, buddy,” Clark chuckled. “I think a scary movie might be fun.”

“Do you?” Steve challenged.

“Alright, alright, you two, let’s go grab some tickets, maybe some snacks, and calm down,” You urged. “Do you think you can make it through two hours?”

“Easily,” Clark grinned.

“It’s not a problem,” Steve uttered stiffly. “I’ll grab the tickets, why don’t you wait by the gate?”

You gave a pathetic smile and grabbed Clark’s arm. Steve’s eye caught the movement before he stepped away with a scowl. You dragged Clark away and past the rows of game towards the admissions stall. You hovered there, releasing him only to wring your hands together.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-- It’s usually a whole lot of us,” You said nervously. “I just don’t know what his problem is. He’s usually so nice and--”

“Ego.” Clark said. “I’ve dealt with it before. He’s the big hero, he’s used to being the best, the one in charge. He doesn’t like that I don’t bow to every demand. That his buddy Stark doesn’t make me.”

“I don’t… know,” You looked over as Steve neared. “Just promise me you’ll try to be nice even if he’s not.”

“For you,” He said. “Of course.”

💥

You usually enjoyed the previews but not that night. On either side of you sat a large, tense, and silently fuming man. You felt trapped between them as their arms took up much of the armrests. You held an extra large popcorn that no one seemed interested in and stared up dumbly as the deep voice announced upcoming titles. You should have just gone home and stared at the ceiling. That would be more enjoyable than this.

Then the theatre went silent as the screen turned black. The sonorous soundtrack droned before the screen lit up again. A mosaic walkway with lines of blood running along the cracks. Slowly the camera panned in until the entire screen was a sickly shade of red and the word Crimson appeared in large black letters, the music stopping on a high, terrifying note.

You really wish you had argued for the comedy. Yeah, it would’ve been stupid but with your anxiety already running high, you’d rather roll your eyes than bite your tongue.

Twenty minutes in, you rolled up the top of the popcorn bag and set it on the floor. A waste of overpriced kernels but the gory scenes made you anything but hungry. You winced and flinched as the movie carried on and felt a subtle shift from your left.

Steve’s hand fluttered over yours and he squeezed. You looked over at him and smiled. He leaned in until his arm was flush against you.

From your right, another subtle movement. It was until Clark’s arm slipped down from the top of your seat and dropped over your shoulders that you realised what was going on. He whispered in your ear. “Spooky, huh?”

You nodded as you were trapped in the hot tension of their bodies. You blinked and focused on the screen but you couldn’t decipher the words of the characters, barely even registered their screams. Clark played with the shoulder of your shirt as Steve’s thumb brushed over your skin. You didn’t like whatever battle they had declared.

💥

After the movie, you walked out and shoved the bag of cold popcorn in the trash. Steve was ahead of you and Clark behind you. As you came out in the cool night air, you shivered but basked in the refreshing chill it sent up your spine. The two men were silent.

“Did you like the movie?” You asked, suffocating in their wordless standoff.

“It was alright.” Steve muttered. “Bloody.”

“I liked it,” Clark said. “Been a while since I’ve been to the theatre.”

You nodded and dug your heel into the pavement. You glanced up at the streetlight and down the tarmac at the shine of yellow and white.

“I should get a cab,” You said quietly.

“Here,” Steve raised his hand to hail a taxi. “I’ll share. Make sure you get home safe.”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Clark insisted. “Besides, it’s you and me who are headed to the same place.”

“You never know in New York,” Steve watched a cab pull up and open the door. “Nothing wrong with making sure.”

“It’s fine,” You raised your hands in a plea. “Really. It’s okay. I’ll be okay. You two just go… home.”

Clark gave a crooked smile and Steve frowned as he gripped the top of the open cab door. You got in looked up at them.

“Good night,” You grabbed the door. “I’ll see you two on Monday.”

“Night,” Steve’s hand dropped and he backed away.

“Good night,” Clark called to you. “Let me know when you get home safe.”

“Will do,” You said as you pulled the door closed.

You sighed and gave the cabbie your address before letting your head flop back against the leather seat. You couldn’t decide who was dumber; you or them.

💥

Monday came and you had a peculiar butterfly flapping around in your stomach. Friday night hung over you like a shadow. The thought of facing either man was unpromising. The idea of facing them together was worse and made you squirm. There was something you were missing and you just couldn’t put your finger on it. Or you were just being willfully and stubbornly ignorant.

But at the Tower, neither of them appeared. Well, they didn’t need to be there everyday. They probably got more done at the compound with its bigger and more accommodating facilities. You were thankful for the unexpected respite. Still, you were anxious. There was always Tuesday.

You buried yourself in paperwork and spent a little too long on the phone with intelligence. You skipped your lunch and by the end of the day, you were thoroughly exhausted. Yet you still had work to do. A lot of work. So you hunkered down for a few hours of overtime and went over field reports as you paced around your office, trying to stretch out the kinks in your legs.

You were startled by a knock. The Tower had grown quiet, most of the employees gone, even Tony as he had plans with Pepper. You slid the folder onto your desk and went to the door. Clark beamed at you from the other side.

“You’re here late,” He said.

“You too,” You stuck your head out and peered up and down the hallway. “I didn’t know you were even here.”

“Well, you know, the compound can be a bit… much so I come here at night to work out.” He said. “It helps me relax.”

“Oh,” You looked up at him confused.

“I just… I could hear you walking around in here and if you need a break, I’ll be in the gym. That’s all.” He said.

“Okay,” You nodded. “Sure, um…” You glanced back at the office. “Maybe I’ll take a break now. I could use it.”

“Alright,” He said happily. “Well, um,” He rubbed his neck as he backed up. “Should I lead the way?”

You stepped out into the hallway and looked down towards the next. He turned and you followed just behind him. You frowned as you realised he wasn’t really dressed for the gym. Well, maybe he still needed to change. You kept on, happy at least to be out of your stuffy office for the first time all day.

He opened the gym door and you stepped through, only noticing that another was already there as the door clicked shut behind you. Steve sat, hands together, on the weight bench. He wore a tee shirt and jeans. Like Clark, he didn’t look as if he meant to use the equipment. You spun to looked back at Clark.

“Um, what’s going on?” You asked. “You two--”

“We have our differences,” Steve said from behind you. You turned back to him as he stood. “That much we’ve figured out but we’ve also found that we have one glaring thing in common.”

You narrowed your eyes, dizzy and you looked between them.

“You,” Clark said.

Your heart dropped. You gulped, speechless. Then you laughed. It was unbelievable. Ridiculous. You were misunderstanding them.

“Funny?” Clark asked and you choked on your giggles.

“Well, which one is it?” Steve asked.

“What do you--” You blinked. “We’re friends. That’s all.”

“Friends?” Steve scoffed. “I don’t think so.”

“Is this a game to you?” Clark asked. “Huh, you like to lead the boys on and then act innocent when they want more.”

“No, I never-- I was just being nice,” You snapped. “I don’t-- We saw a movie and-- I didn’t do anything to--”

“You didn’t stop anything either,” Steve stepped closer and Clark mirrored him. “Would you have? If my hand had slipped a little lower? Or his?”

“You two… this isn’t funny anymore.” You spun between them as they closed in.

“Choose,” Clark said. “Him or me? It’s obvious you want one of us.”

You were silent. You picked at your nail as you looked back and forth between them.

“Or both?” Steve smirked and his eyes met the other man’s over your head. “I mean, you’ve been trying to make peace between us. What better way?”

“I…” You shuddered. “I got work to--”

You tried to sidestep Clark and he caught you around the waist. He flung you back and you collided with Steve. His arm wrapped around you as you struggled with him. You stomped his foot but he merely grunted and Clark neared as you kicked out at him.

“Stop, stop!” You cried. “I didn’t mean for-- You’ve misunderstood-- I never--”

“Shhhh,” Clark caught your feet and you hung between the two men. “It’s okay. We’re not gonna hurt you.”

“The opposite, in fact,” Steve added as they moved you to the weight bench and forced you across it.

“Hold her still,” Clark flicked your heels off and they bounced across the floor. “Come on, sweetheart, let’s not play this game.”

“Steve,” You gasped as you looked up at the man holding down your shoulders. “Steve, please, why are you--”

He slid his arm across your chest and smothered you with his palm. Your legs flailed and Clark trapped them between his as he stood over you on the bench and tugged at the waist of your skirt, busting the zipper as he tore it past your thighs. You writhed as the fabric fluttered to the floor and he grabbed your panties. He slipped them down your legs, past the sheer thigh highs and the dropped atop your skirt.

“Don’t let her up,” Clark ordered and left you to kick against the bench.

He returned with a skipping rope and wound it around your waist and arms, securing you to the bench. He nodded to Steve who ripped open the front of your blouse, the fabric pushed back over your shoulders to bare your bra. He snapped the front of it and it fell away from your chest, agape like your open shirt.

Clark grabbed another skipping rope and wound it around your shoulders and neck. Steve let you go and you squirmed against the tight rubber cords.

“Please,” You begged.

“Do you want me to shut her up or--?” Steve asked.

“I thought you called the shots around her,” Clark snapped as he removed his glasses.

“Do I?” Steve neared him. “If it was up to me, you wouldn’t be here.”

“If it wasn’t for me, you’d still be drooling like a lovesick puppy,” Clark sneered. “Shut her up, then.”

Steve snickered and turned away from him. He winked at you as he neared and undid the front of his jeans. You grunted as you tried to roll off the bench but only caused the rope to dig deeper into your flesh. You pushed your feet onto the bench and kicked, trying to break the ropes. Nothing.

Steve came around your head and pushed open the denim. He rolled his jeans down with his briefs as he pulled himself out, stroking his already hard cock. You shook your head, barely able to as the rope squeezed your neck. He gripped your chin tightly, pressing until you opened your mouth with a whimper.

He bent his knees and shoved himself inside. You gagged around him as he forced his cock down your throat. Your body spasmed at the suddenness of the intrusion and your fingers clawed at the bench. He pulled back but not for long as he slid back in, your throat contracting around him.

“Mmmm,” Clark purred as he wrenched your legs apart and sat between them. He dragged his fingers along your folds. “So sweet… well, that’s what you like people to think, isn’t it?”

You could only groan around Steve as Clark teased you. Rubbing you until you felt the wetness spread. He poked a thick finger inside of you and your legs tensed against him. Your legs were trapped against his as he held them wide apart with his knees. He added another finger as Steve pushed himself as deep as he could go.

“You just gonna play with her all night?” Steve rutted down your throat between thick breaths.

“I’ll do what I want,” Clark clasped your thigh roughly with his other hand.

He turned his fingers and curled them. A pressure built at his fingertips. You were ashamed of how easily your body responded to him. You gripped the side of the bench as it seemed to strain beneath you.

Clark hummed and drew his hand away. You couldn’t see him but could hear him suck his fingers. It added to the sickness that curdled your stomach as Steve fucked your mouth. The sloppy noises that came from you echoed across the airy gym.

The bench shifted as you sensed movement at the other end. Clark lifted your legs and slid closer. He rested your ankles against his shoulders as his hand brushed your cunt, then his cock. He lined himself up with your entrance, poked inside a little, then pulled out.

He slicked himself along your folds, rubbing against you and once more pressed himself to your entrance. He sank inside of you slowly. He let out a long groan and the deeper he got, the louder he grew. He jolted you as he lost his patience and impaled you entirely.

Steve’s cock poked the back of your throat as he bent over you and sped up once more. Clark began to thrust from your other end, your walls stretched around him painfully, and you arched your back against the tension of the ropes. You were lightheaded, barely able to breathe, your eyes rolled back as you quivered between the men.

The heat bloomed within you, building and building, the fire flowed through your veins as the room faded away. You shuddered and gasped for breath around Steve’s cock. Large hands clung to your thighs and lifted your ass just slightly as Clark hammered into you harder and harder.

You legs shook at the sudden snap inside of you. You unraveled in an instant and murmured as you spasmed wildly atop the bench. Your orgasm washed away all your fear and doubts and your lips hugged Steve’s cock even snugger as it slid in and out of your mouth.

Then it stopped. All of it. The ropes loosened and you were suddenly very empty. The only bound that remained was that around your neck which grew tight. You opened your eyes as they turned you onto your stomach. Your arms and legs dangled over the sides of the bench and the rope, a noose at your throat, drew taut as your head was forced up.

Clark held the other end of the skipping rope as he poked at your lips. He slid his cock into your mouth and down your throat. Steve settled behind you and titled your pelvis as he felt around for your entrance. His cock filled you swiftly as he slid closer. His hands gripped your hips as he began to slam into you, forcing Clark’s cock further down your throat.

“Fuck,” Steve snarled as he crashed into you over and over, jerking your entire body as he did.

“She’s… good,” Clark breathed as pulled the rope tighter. “Very… good.”

“Shit, I’m almost there,” Steve slapped your ass as you began to quake again. “Look at her, she’s cumming again.”

“Mmm, such a good girl,” Clark’s large hand grasped your head as he hammered into you. “Yeah, oh, that’s it.”

Suddenly, he pulled out and dropped your head, the spit dripping from your lips. You felt a warmth on our back as he came between your shoulders, his groans deep and dusky. Steve followed shortly, pushing himself back as he slipped out of you and rubbed himself through his climax against your thigh.

You remained, weak and whimpering, on the bench. You couldn’t move; stunned, drained of every ounce of strength. You panted wildly and your fingertips felt the cold floor blindly.

“Get her up,” Clark ordered as your vision began to clear.

“You.” Steve countered sharply. “You said it yourself,” Fingers danced over your spine and made you shiver. “I’m in charge.”

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years

Text

Satisfied, Part 40

First

~~~

Marinette didn’t know when exactly she ended up living at Wayne Manor full time, all that she knew was that it happened. Eventually, staying over to work with Tim, to spar with Damian, to talk to Jason and Dick, morphed into her never really going home. After all, it was always too late, or the bed was too soft to get up, or there was a dog asleep in her lap how dare you suggest she move.

But her routine didn’t change much at all. Their coffee was returned to them, so Tim and Marinette spent basically all day binge-drinking and working (with mandated breaks enforced by Jason and Dick). At night, well…

“Another boys night?” She said innocently, barely even looking up from what must have been the millionth flower she had embroidered.

Jason shrugged. “Sorry, Mari, you just wouldn’t want to come.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. Honestly, how had boys night been the best thing they could come up with? They’d been doing this for years. How did they even have secret identities at this point? Still, she nodded and smiled. “Sounds great. Have fun.”

“Try and get some sleep!” Called Dick over his shoulder.

“I won’t!” She yelled back, then went back to work. After a few minutes she stood up and brushed herself off. “Tikki, spots on.”

She grinned when she saw her outfit was finally back to normal. She’d kept the leather jacket, boots, and fighting gloves to hide the fact that she’d been weakened before, but now she’d added some tiny features to complete the look. Long, red ribbons tied her hair into her trademark ponytails, and she’d given herself a utility belt to match the rest of the family (also to hold snacks).

She hopped out the window and then made a large loop around the city to get to her and Damian’s meeting spot.

She rolled her eyes when she saw him. “Man, why’d you have to go for the utility belt first? I owe Bats one hour of sleep,” she whined.

He huffed softly. “Shut up! It’s small and easy to manage!”

She shook her head exasperatedly and pulled a bag of chips from one of her many pockets. “Mhmm.”

“You can’t judge me! You’re the one with streamers following behind you! That’s terrible for battle!”

“But great for aesthetic,” she said, grinning. “But you’re actually wrong. Pull on one.”

He gave her an incredulous look but did reach out to pull on one of the four trails of ribbon. It crumbled in his hand and, after a few moments, began to regenerate itself. “Uh….”

“Yep! It’s essentially streamers but even easier to break. I’m better at fashion than you, Kit.”

He sent her a glare. “Whatever. Let’s get on with patrols.”

‘Patrols’ was quickly derailed when they found a cute stray cat and started chasing it. Bruce would probably let Marinette have a pet if she asked, and it was so cute. She was about two seconds away from catching it when her receiver sprung to life.

She pouted and skid to a stop, bring a hand up to turn it on.

“Ladybug, you should come see this,” said Red Hood.

“Fine, location?”

He gave it to her and she turned off her comm.

“I have to go. Catch him for me?”

“Only if you agree to call him BatCat.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll agree to consider it.”

Damian grinned at her and disappeared in search of the cat.

After a bit she managed to find her way to where Red Hood sat on a rooftop. “Hey,” she said casually, dropping down next to him.

“Mari,” he greeted, reaching out to poke her cheek.

“So, is there actually something or did you just want to see me?” She teased, smiling.

He didn’t smile back, nodding to a billboard nearby.

Her eyes found their way to it and she cringed. It had been completely defaced, an uneven coating of black spray-paint making whatever it was originally advertising worthless, the words ‘Come home NightMare <3’ where displayed proudly across it in an acidic green.

She balled her fists. She didn’t want to go back yet, but the Wayne Gala was only a week and a half away at this point. They’d obviously need her there to go over the plan.

The therapy sessions were helping, but the idea of getting back in that suit again… even seeing Kaalki made her feel a little sick to her stomach.

She steeled herself. “Right, I’ll go tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to, y’know.”

She bit the inside of her cheek. Technically, he was right. She could technically just opt not to go and they could hope that the security the Waynes had put in place would be enough. But, on a far more real level, he couldn’t be more wrong. She knew that they were getting in no matter how many people they had to fight against them because, ultimately, Batman wouldn’t have them killed and the Rogues had no such reservations.

Marinette pressed a kiss to his cheek. “It’ll be okay.”

She sat on the billboard, swinging her legs back and forth as she rested her head back against the paint. This was fine, she told herself. She wasn’t going to be killing anyone anymore. All the Rogues knew she wouldn’t, if the fact that they’d allowed her to disappear for weeks was any indication.

She wasn’t supposed to kill anyone last time, a pessimistic voice said.

She was glad to see the familiar uniforms below and hopped down, waving at them. “Hey, boys, been a while!”

They didn’t return her smile. She felt a needle prick her neck and next thing she knew she was in a warehouse.

Harley leaned into view, her blue eyes scrutinizing her. “Hey, darlin’, how you feeling?”

“Could be better,” Marinette mumbled.

She felt Harley and Ivy pull her into a hug and numbly returned it, closing her eyes. It only lasted for a few seconds, though, before Harley was quiet literally pulled away. Poison Ivy quickly scampered off into the corner.

She looked up to see Joker and cringed internally. She’d been hoping to never see him again, but she supposed she never had been lucky.

“Hello,” she said carefully, giving a weak grin.

“Hi!” He said, giving a wave and of course he was the one to return her smile. “We have some work to do.”

Marinette bit the inside of her cheek. “We?”

“Yup! Us three are going to Wayne Manor!”

She frowned confusedly and glanced around at everyone else. She couldn’t gauge anything from their faces, but Harley didn’t seem upset so she hoped this meant that she wasn’t about to be killed. She nodded hesitantly.

“Right. I’ll have to get inside the building and find a room that won’t change.”

Joker nodded and offered her a hand up. “You know where Wayne Manor is?”

She stared at his hand and swallowed thickly before taking it. She winced when she realized how warm it was. She’d been expecting something cold and clammy, like a corpse, but this was somehow worse. Knowing he was alive and just like that made her stomach turn.

She opened a portal to outside Wayne Manor.

“I don’t know how we’re supposed to get past the cameras.”

“Like this,” he chirped, pointing his gun at the nearest one and shooting it out.

Marinette clenched her fists. “Yeah, that’s one way of doing it,” she mumbled. She opened a portal to get inside the fence and cringed as another gunshot rang out. He was shooting out every camera, which was a good thing from a ‘breaking in’ standpoint but bad from a ‘protecting the Waynes’ standpoint.

They slipped through the house, undisturbed. Of course it was undisturbed, there was no one here --.

Except there was. And she looked right into the face of Tim.

Her eyes widened and she looked at Joker and Harley, hoping against hope that they would somehow miss him. He was short, this could work –.

But she never was lucky. And Joker had his gun out.

She jumped in front of Tim, pushing him to hide behind her.

Wow, she really wished she could stop having guns pointed at her. It really hadn’t gone well for her since she’d come to Gotham. Last time Robin had been shot, the time before that she’d been.

She wasn’t anxious to see what would happen if she got shot this time, she had no clue how Joker bullets would work with her costume. Would she not be affected? She hoped so, but what would happen if she was? This was a chemical thing, not just the usual brute force. Would the suit be useless against it? Would it keep her alive, choking on her own blood until the chemicals were out of her system? Which would be worse?

And she knew he would shoot her.

Because, ultimately, she was expendable. All the Rogues were to Joker. Sure, it would be a pain to plan around it, but they could always mow down security guards and get inside that way.

She just needed to reason with him. Would he listen to reason? She hoped so.

She felt hands grip the back of her dress and looked back at Tim. He was definitely playing up whatever fear he had, because he looked terrified. Good, at least they would never expect him to be a vigilante.

Not that it would matter if Joker shot them.

“What’s wrong, NightMare? You look like you’ve just had a bad dream.”

She resisted the urge to gag. She’d heard of how bad his jokes were, but really? He was worse than Chat Noir and – WAIT DON’T LOAD THE BARREL LIKE THAT.

She swallowed thickly, a hand reaching back to make sure Tim didn’t try and do something stupid like push her out of the way.

“Joker, we can’t shoot him,” she tried.

“I told you she would be a liability, Harls,” Joker said. “She just doesn’t have the balls to kill people.”

Harley winced beside him, her eyes falling to the floor.

“But it’s not even that!” She said. Except it was. But she could work around it. Reason. She needed a reason. “Listen to me! If we kill him then the Gala probably wouldn’t happen. Bruce loves his kids, right? If he ended up dead, then he would probably cancel. We can’t kill him!”

Joker stared her down. He wasn’t smiling behind (the mask? his face?) anymore, his lips set in a grim line. This was almost worse. She almost missed the smiling, at least then she had an idea of what was going through his head.

And then he lowered his gun.

She let herself relax a little. They continued through the house with Tim at their side. She made sure to stand between him and the Rogues. Just in case.

After she had pretended to memorize every room in the house (because, really, she knew most of it by heart thanks to the prank war), she opened a portal for them.

Joker stepped through and Harley stopped her before she could follow. “Puddin’, we’re just going to have a little chat, okay?”

“Fine!”

Marinette tensed. The portal closed and they were cast into silence. She hadn’t made it too obvious she was a hero, right? After all, it could just be brushed off as her hating the idea of killing…

Right?

Harley waved Tim off and she glanced back at him. He was still holding onto the sleeve of her dress. She gave him a small smile. “Hey, it’s fine. Go back to work, alright?”

He gave her a slightly skeptical look, but then nodded. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

She watched him leave and then turned to Harley. Was she suspicious? Did Marinette give anything away accidentally? Was this it?

“So, how do you know Tim?”

Marinette tensed. “I’m sorry?”

“You know him. How?”

She bit the inside of her cheek. What could she say? She couldn’t call him her friend, that would make it to obvious who she was. But she couldn’t act like she didn’t know him at all, that would make Harley suspicious…

“I guess I could call it…” She took a deep breath to steel herself. Her face reddened. God, he was going to hear this. “A celebrity crush?”

Harley squealed. “That’s so cute! Oh, and you saved his life? C’mon! He owes you a date!”

Damn it, Joker should have shot her. It would have been less excruciating than this. She buried her face in her hands. “I’d prefer… not doing that.”

The woman wasn’t listening, though. “Oh, you two would be so cute together! Your kids would be --!” Marinette decided that she was not going to pay attention to this, glaring at the ground as they walked through the mansion.

She was never going to live this down.

~~~

SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE THERE WAS A HURRICANE

Taglist

@comet-kun @thatonecroc @trippingovermyfeet @swiftie-miraculer13 @nickristus-dreamer @moongoddesskiana @i-am-ironic @indecisive-mess-named-me @thebooki3h @insane-fangirl-of-everything @deepestobservationwombat @theymakeupfairies @fatimaabbasrizvi @clumsy-owl-4178 @fanofalittletoomuch @iamablinkmarvelarmy @nathleigh @lilkymilky @silvergold-swirl @dino-lovingreen-angel @thestressmademedoit @kissa-chan @ladybug-182 @alysrose-starchild @t1dwarrior-of-earth @spyofthenightcourt @rowanrouge @nik-nak-3 @momothefemur @aestheticnpoetic @labschaos @our-preciousss @mochinek0 @eliza-bich @mythogaychic @severelyenchantedwonderland @sashakoi @smolplantmum @bluesimani @tropestropestropes @kitsunebell @keepingupwiththemalfoys @sassakitty @2confused-2doanything @too0bsessedformyowngood @all-mights-asscheeks @demonicbusiness @meg-an-ace @fantasiame @qualitypeacepainter @multplelifes @kokotaru

#timinette #timari #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #red robin #tim drake #satisfied #maribat

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stxphxn-strange · 3 years

Text

moments we had and suddenly lost

a/n: wanted to write smth self indulgent and fun and sweet and cozy, this was the result. for most of it. sorry not sorry for the ending (tw for character death though)

“Did you see the way Bruce just spoke to me in the groupchat?!” Stephen asked, not at all angry but very surprised.

“Finals stress is probably hitting,” Christine replied. “I keep suggesting he tries meditation.”

“You’ve suggested that to everyone.”

“And none of you so far have listened!”

“... okay true.”

Christine rolled her eyes at Stephen conceding. “Where’s Ant?”

“Studying with Carol and Rhodey I think,” Stephen said, not yet realizing that someone had just gotten home. “Or in class, I don’t remember if he said his class was meeting today or not.”

“It wasn’t,” Anthony replied from the mudroom. He shrugged off his jacket and hung it up, stretching in place for a moment. “Hi Christine.”

Christine waved with the hand that wasn’t busy highlighting her notes, glancing up slightly as Anthony crossed the room.

“Rhodey’s still out?” Stephen asked. He looked up from his computer, reaching out for his boyfriend.

Anthony nodded. “He went to get lunch and run errands with Carol and I think someone else. I dunno, I came home because I’m tired.”

“I’m not surprised, you haven’t slept more than a few hours this entire week,” Stephen replied. He kept his voice low and soothing, partly to ensure he didn’t distract Christine from her reading.

“Hence why I’m admitting exhaustion-induced defeat! I’m going to take a nap,” Anthony said. “If I’m not up in an hour will you wake me up please?”

“An hour and ten?” Stephen suggested.

Anthony sighed fondly. “Okay. Thank you.”

“Go get your sleep,” Stephen murmured, hugging him close. Anthony was half sitting on him at this point, but neither of them minded much. “And get under a blanket, you’re fucking freezing.”

“It’s cold out!” Anthony replied. He softly kissed Stephen’s hair. “Good luck with studying, both of you.”

“Thanks man. I’m going to dinner with Hope later tonight so that’s making this a little more bearable. I can’t stand your boyfriend,” Christine said, throwing in a friendly dig at Stephen.

Anthony laughed lightly. “Don’t worry, I can’t either.”

“What did I do to deserve this treatment?” Stephen asked, unable to hide his amusement and laughing with them.

“I’m obviously kidding, you’re good to study with. And a half decent friend I guess,” Christine replied.

Stephen flipped her off and pretended to scowl, his facial expression softening as Anthony kissed him again.

“I’m going to go sleep,” Anthony said. He pulled Stephen in for one last kiss. “Love you lots, good luck!”

Stephen smiled. “I love you too. I’ll wake you up after an hour and 10.”

“Thank you!” Anthony called as he left the room. He was already forming a plan to steal one of Stephen’s hoodies and nap in it, thinking about what music to listen to while he rested.

++++

Christine left at the same time Stephen’s alarm went off, reminding him that he promised to wake Anthony up. He didn’t want to, knowing his sleep deprived boyfriend could really use more rest, but too long of a nap would keep him from falling asleep later that night.

“There aren’t enough hours in the day,” Stephen muttered to himself as he headed towards his room.

“Amen,” Wong called from his own room, the door slightly ajar.

Stephen poked his head in. “I didn’t even know you were home.”

“Because I’m being quiet, obviously. I’m meeting Pepper and Loki to study with them, and I think Bucky is coming too,” Wong replied. He was neatly arranging his backpack, filling it to the brim with books and notepads.

“Got everything?” Stephen teased.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than bother me? Go bother Ant,” Wong replied mirthfully, taking his laptop out of his bag to quickly repack the whole thing.

“He’s sleeping! I was on my way to wake him up, forgive me for wanting to check on you,” Stephen bantered back.

Wong just rolled his eyes, giving Stephen a good natured shove as he passed him in the doorway. “I’ll see you later, good luck with whatever you’re doing for the rest of the day.”

“You too,” Stephen replied, finishing his trip to his room as Wong continued in the opposite direction. His heart burst when walked in to see Anthony still sleeping and wearing one of his hoodies.

He looked so comfortable and relaxed for once in his damn life, and Stephen hated to disrupt him just as much as he hated breaking his word. He gently shook Anthony’s shoulder a few times before beginning to brush his hair back from his face. It was about two minutes later when Anthony woke up, blinking in love and annoyance while expelling the stray sleep from his eyes.

“As much as I hate waking you up from your rare moments of sleep, this drowsiness is cute on you,” Stephen murmured. “Good nap?”

Anthony huffed in exasperation and pushed his head against Stephen’s hand. “Too short.”

“I know,” Stephen soothed, continuing to play with his boyfriend’s hair. “Sometimes it feels like no amount of sleep is ever enough to feel rested. Even when I slept for 11 hours that day I was still tired.”

“Sounds like a personal problem,” Anthony quipped, still a bit out of it. “How was your studying?”

“It went well. I’m not going to worry about this test tomorrow morning, I’m just going to try and relax tonight,” Stephen said, ignoring the first thing Anthony said. He smirked, knowing he wouldn’t be able to take his next words seriously. “Maybe I’ll even to go sleep at a decent hour.”

That... didn’t happen. It just didn’t.

One (1) coffee driven all-nighter later, they sleepily headed off to take their respective last exams of the semester. Stephen’s exam was earlier in the day, but Anthony went with him when he left “for good luck.” That was only half true, he just wanted any reason to be around Stephen and vehemently told him that.

“Anthony I adore and appreciate you but you really didn’t have to walk with me,” Stephen said. “You could’ve slept before your test.”

Anthony scoffed. “I really don’t think a power nap would have any effect. Besides, I want all the time with you I could possibly have.”

They stopped walking in the hallway, Stephen looking at Anthony with a loving gaze and smiling at him. “I can’t wait until break starts.”

“We’re almost done,” Anthony replied. “Aside from waking up early for our flight tomorrow, we’ll be able to sleep in for the next few weeks!”

“We’ll be able to try and sleep in,” Stephen corrected him.

“We’re saying the same thing,” Anthony said with a little laugh that made Stephen smile even more.

“All I want to do is lay on the beach with you at least once while we’re away,” Stephen said.

“That can be arranged,” Anthony replied fondly. He looked up as a clock chimed somewhere in the building.

Stephen yawned. “That’s my cue to go and look over my notes before the exam.”

Anthony nodded and pulled him close again. “Good luck! You’ve got this, I love you,” he murmured against Stephen’s lips, kissing him between each clause.

“I love you too, see you at home?” Stephen replied.

“Of course. Pep and I are going to lunch after we’re done at 12:30, text me if you need or want anything and I’ll bring it,” Anthony said.

“I might be asleep, I’m taking a fucking nap before Bucky’s party tonight,” Stephen said. “Or not-party. Whatever it is.”

++++

Despite the fact that no one outside the friend group was there, Bucky’s game night/dinner quickly spiraled into a full on party. There was dancing and snacks and jokes, everyone finally relaxing for the first time in weeks. Tired as everyone was, partying and dancing the night away was a good way to get rid of the last bit of final exam and grade stress. Grade point averages didn’t matter, just friends and memories. And because they were... themselves, Stephen and Anthony were late. 15 minutes late was actually pretty good for them, but their tardiness was always amusing to their friends.

“We would’ve gotten here earlier had Anthony not changed his shirt three times,” Stephen explained to a fondly exasperated Bucky.

“I only had time to do that because you fell asleep! And you had the audacity to be annoyed with me for waking you up, even though you asked me to,” Anthony replied.

Stephen didn’t say much, unable to argue with that. “I hate to say it, but you’re right.”

“At least you’re cute about being woken up,” Anthony said, unable to refrain from teasing him. “Your tired face reminds me of my sister’s cat when she’s angry.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.” Stephen rolled his eyes.

“May I host my damn party please?” Bucky tapped his foot impatiently. “Are you done with this interruption or can I finish talking?”

“Honestly I thought you were done,” Stephen replied sincerely.

“I don’t think Bucky is ever truly done talking!” Sam called from another room.

“Hm, you both have that in common,” Stephen said to Bucky and Anthony.

“Oh hush,” Anthony quipped, looking at Stephen with nothing but love in his eyes.

“Conveniently for you bickering jackasses, we’re telling embarrassing stories about each other. Basically you have to tell a story while the rest of us decide if it’s a true story or not, and we can ask three clarifying questions.” Bucky had a fiendish look in his eye as he explained the game. “And since you were late, I think it’s fair we put one of you on the spot.”

“I think we know an appropriate amount about each other already,” Wong muttered jokingly.

“You don’t want to hear about the time Loki stabbed me with safety scissors when we were kids?” Thor asked. “Rude.”

“That’s all you ever talk about, and I said I was sorry!” Loki replied. “At least I didn’t get banned from Michael’s for a few years... Hela.”

“I’ll dump my wine on your head,” Hela said in an icy voice.

“Not on my white carpet!” Bucky muttered.

“Hey how much do you want to bet that the Odinsons are going to start wrestling by the end of the night?” Wong asked Stephen as he and Anthony sat down and joined the others.

“Oh they definitely will. If they don’t I’ll buy you a sandwich when we come back from break,” Stephen replied. “Anthony will you be a witness for this incredibly stupid bet Wong and I are about to shake on?”

Anthony, curled up against Stephen’s side, nodded with a yawn.

“Great. If the Odinsons don’t piss each other off enough to start fighting, Stephen owes me a sandwich,” Wong declared. They sealed the bet with a very gentle high five, Stephen loosely lacing his finger’s with Wong’s.

Wong dropped his hand. “We’re not close enough to be that affectionate,” he said teasingly.

“Aww but I’m tired! I want to hold hands with everyone,” Stephen mumbled. “Anthony will you hold me?”

“Anytime baby,” Anthony replied, pulling Stephen into a hug.

Both Stephen and Anthony were extremely physically affectionate, even more so when they were tired. The long week drained them of their energy and stole 90% of their snark, leaving them “annoyingly snuggly” according to their friends. When they got home from the party, Rhodey rolled his eyes at how clumsy they were, completely sober but completely exhausted.

Anthony didn’t even bother changing out of his suit when they got home, brushing his teeth and collapsing into bed as soon as possible. He left the lights dimmed, just bright enough so Stephen could see while he was in the bathroom. Anthony was almost asleep when his phone rang, annoyed at the interruption until he saw who was calling.

“Buona sera, Mamma,” He greeted her warmly but sleepily.

“It’s a bit late to be considered evening, isn’t it?” Maria asked. “How was the party? Or was it not a party? I don’t remember.”

“It ended up turning into a party and it was only our friends there! But it was super fun, we’re just really tired,” Anthony replied. “We’re getting up in a few hours for our flight.”

He looked up as Stephen ran into something and cursed colorfully.

“You okay?” Anthony asked, holding the phone a bit away from his face.

“I tripped over my bag,” Stephen replied, unceremoniously laying on top of him. He was also still wearing his suit, knowing he’d probably sleep more comfortably in PJs but at this point it was too late to care.

“Stephen’s been clumsy again,” Anthony informed his mother.

“He says that as if he didn’t almost fall down the stairs this morning,” Stephen added.

Maria rolled her eyes on the other end of the call. “Stop bickering and get some sleep, you two. I’ll see you Sunday, okay? Anthony I was just calling to see how the end of your week went, we can talk more tomorrow.”

“It went well! I just can’t wait to spend time on the beach and see you and Natasha,” Anthony replied.

He could hear the smile in his mother’s voice as she replied. “I’m excited too. I’ll let you get some sleep now, sweet dreams! I love you.” She was talking to them both, their happiness warming her heart. Maria smiled when they said they loved her too. Stephen was basically her son-in-law at that point (she even addressed him as such), and she couldn’t wait to see them both.

Stephen was asleep before Anthony even hung up the phone. He meant to set an alarm, knowing Anthony had one set but they both had a tendency to oversleep. It would just be an extra precaution, a “just-in-case,” but at the time he was too tired to set it.

Luckily, something was on their side and they were begrudgingly awake on time. They met an equally tired Bucky in the morning, their only relief being that they could try to sleep on the flight.

“I’m buying a coffee at the earliest possible opportunity,” Bucky said as soon as they got to the airport.

“You sound like Anthony,” Stephen remarked.

“In this one instance maybe. You guys have more in common than most people I’ve ever met,” Bucky replied. “But I guess that makes sense because you’ve known each other since the beginning of time, you’re basically the same person.”

“That’s not true! I’m taller,” Stephen said.

“You asshole,” Anthony quipped. He yawned and leaned closer to Stephen as they walked towards their gate. “Bucky what kind of coffee do you even drink? I thought you didn’t like it.”

“Somehow Sam convinced me that cappuccinos are good,” Bucky replied.

“They are,” Anthony insisted.

“Oh I agree, but as far as Sam knows I’m still on the fence about them. I can’t have him thinking he’s right,” Bucky said humorously.

Anthony winked at Stephen before replying. “True. If he finds out he’s right you’ll never hear the end of it.”

“I hate you,” Stephen said, his words betrayed by his loving tone and the way he reached for Anthony’s hand.

“It’s going to be such a long flight sitting next to you two idiots,” Bucky muttered.

Stephen was unsure if he scoffed or laughed at his friend. “We won’t bother you, at least I won’t. I’m going to sleep at, as you put it, the earliest possible opportunity.”

He fell asleep before the plane took off, resting his head on Anthony’s shoulder and staying as close to him as possible. Anthony didn’t mind Stephen’s using him as a human neck pillow and fell asleep shortly after, leaving Bucky with peace, quiet, and a chance to take embarrassing photos of them (to send to the groupchat later). They slept for almost 75% of the flight, just in time to hear the announcement that it’d be landing early. Bucky, concerned about missing his connecting flight to Vancouver, relaxed at that news and closed his eyes to sleep until they landed.

“We could go to the beach today, if you’d like,” Anthony suggested softly, still waking up. “Of course we have a bit of a trip to take before we’re home, and there’s no telling what traffic will be like when we land, but we could probably go for a bit.”

Stephen hummed in agreement. The beach wasn’t far from Anthony’s house, and there would be plenty of time over the holiday. He’d be lying if he said the idea didn’t entice him. He didn’t say much of anything out loud, but smiled as Anthony kissed his head as if to say he understood.

++++

“Bucky are you all good for time?” Stephen asked as they walked through the airport. It was a relief that they landed early, even more of a relief that LAX was surprisingly quiet.

Bucky shrugged his backpack over his shoulder, looking at his phone and presumably checking his flight information. “Yeah I’m good, I have about an hour.”

“Want company while you wait?” Stephen offered.

“No, I’ll be fine,” Bucky said, shooing them away. “Go home and sleep or go to the beach or some shit. Be safe okay?”

“You too, have a good flight Buck,” Anthony replied.

“Why are you saying that like I’m in control of the plane? I didn’t go to flight school,” Bucky quipped.

“What would we ever do without your snark?” Stephen teased. “How are we going to survive the whole break without you Bucky?”

“The two of you are snarky enough for each other, you know that. But if it’d make you feel better, I’ll roast you the next time I see you,” Bucky offered. He then added, mostly to himself, “Or in the groupchat.”

“What was that last thing you said?” Anthony asked, vaguely registering what Bucky said.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll see you guys!” Bucky replied, effectively ending the conversation. He smiled as the couple waved to him and continued walking through the airport, automatically finding their way to holding hands.

It was just under half an hour later when they left the airport, preparing for a scenic drive with hopefully minimal traffic.

Stephen glanced at Anthony as they got into his car, putting on his sunglasses. “How does it feel to be so bright that you put the sun to shame?”

Anthony shrugged, lightly tapping the steering wheel. “I dunno Steph, you tell me.”

“We’re not talking about me, douche” Stephen replied.

“Really? It seems like we are,” Anthony murmured. “Is there anything you want to get on the way home?”

“I don’t think so,” Stephen said with a yawn. “I’m just tired.”

Anthony nodded in agreement. “I don’t blame you, I don’t feel like doing much of anything today, we can see how we feel once we get in.”

“I don’t care what we do, I just want to be around you,” Stephen said breathlessly. He was still holding onto last night’s exhaustion, which only made him even more affectionate (and Stephen knew himself to be an extremely affectionate person as it was).

He couldn’t help but smile when Anthony told him the feeling was mutual.

++++

The next day, Anthony woke up to his phone ringing and at least 60 missed notifications from almost everyone he knew (mostly family). His mailbox was probably full from the amount of calls he got, everyone from his sister to his mother’s assistant trying to reach him. It was a sharp contrast to their afternoon spent lazing on the beach and by the pool, their air of panic almost tangible in Anthony’s phone.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, quietly enough so he didn’t wake up Stephen. He’d just scrolled through all of the various missed call, voicemail, and text notifications when Natasha called him again.

It was the combined noise of the annoying ringtone and Anthony slipping out of bed that woke Stephen up, the med student pouting slightly. “Anthony turn your alarm off.”

“I’m sorry Steph. It’s not my alarm though, my phone’s ringing. I’ll be back, I think my sister needs something,” Anthony replied. He softly kissed Stephen’s cheek before going into the kitchen to see what was going on.

Natasha didn’t answer Anthony’s text, calling him instead. “Do you really not know what happened?

“Good morning to you too,” Anthony replied. “And no, will you please tell me? You’re starting to scare me.”

“Hold on,” Natasha said. She hung up, only to call him back from their grandmother’s home phone. “Okay I’m back.”

“I thought you and Nonna were going to get Mom from the airport, what are you doing home?” Anthony asked.

“We—”

“Did the flight get delayed? I haven’t heard from Mamma since yesterday, she missed my calls,” Anthony continued.

Natasha became increasingly sad and frustrated with her brother as he kept interrupting her. He wasn’t doing it to be hurtful or dismissive, the siblings regularly talked over each other and it was in Anthony’s nature to speak his stream of consciousness aloud. Just this once Natasha needed him to listen first, to tether him to reality if only this one time. “Yeah, because—”

“I was hoping I’d have a call from her when I woke up, but she’s one of the only people I haven’t heard from today. Even her assistant called me, and he doesn’t usually—”

“Chiudi il becco! Per amor di Dio, chiudi quella cazzo di bocca e ascoltami!” Natasha snapped.

“Mi dispiace.” Anthony apologized immediately, hearing how upset Natasha was. “What’s wrong?”

“Look at the news,” Natasha replied, her voice shaking.

“Should I be looking for something specific?” Anthony asked, turning the TV on. “They’re about to go to a commercial, and—”

The rest of his response was cut off as he dropped his phone in shock.

Stephen was just falling into heavy sleep when he heard something crash, followed by frantic cursing from the kitchen. He sat up and was about to go see what was wrong when his phone rang, announcing a call from Rhodey. “Hey man, what’s up?”

“I just called Tones but he didn’t pick up and his mailbox is full, I was only calling to say that I’m so sorry and I hope the both of you are okay,” Rhodey said. “And obviously my family and I are here if you need.”

“What are you talking about? ... Did something happen? We just woke up, Ant went to go talk to Natasha,” Stephen replied.

“I shouldn’t be the one to tell you,” Rhodey said. “You guys can call me later if you feel up to it, okay?”

Stephen was still super confused, his concern increasing as he heard Anthony swearing again. “Okay, thanks Rhodey.”

He tossed his phone aside and stood up, walking a bit faster than normal for a sleepy Saturday. The situation, whatever it was, was too cryptic and Stephen was almost afraid of whatever he was about to find out. He was relieved when Anthony hugged him tightly, relieved that he hadn’t fainted the way Stephen worried originally.

Even still, he was inconsolable and shaking like a leaf seconds away from falling to the ground. Anthony stumbled over his words, sentences turning into high pitched sobs as he tried to explain what happened. He eventually broke the hug and moved to sit in another room, still trembling as Stephen sat beside him. Anthony was close to panicking, needing comfort as much as he wanted to curl up alone and hide. He laid with his head on Stephen’s lap, his eyes staring sightlessly at the rug his mother picked specifically for this room and this house. He’d turned the television off after seeing the headline for the first time, refusing to accept it. He was still holding onto the remote, debating whether or not to turn the news channel back on as Stephen began to comfortingly pet his hair. Eventually he decided to do it, knowing he wouldn’t be able to say the truth himself.

Anthony was stubborn, even in his worst and most painful moments, and forced himself to try anyway. “They hadn’t gotten to the airport yet,” he said, his voice strained from crying.

Stephen, who’d been looking at him the whole time, just hummed and waited to see if Anthony would say anything else.

He didn’t, and he didn’t need to as the anchorwoman on TV said everything there was to say. Stephen felt his blood turn to ice as he heard the story, each word in the anchor’s professional tone hurting more than the last.

“Good morning and breaking news if you’re just joining us. Howard and Maria Stark were reported dead early this morning just outside of New York City, following what looks like a collision with at least one other vehicle in a major accident. Sources are unsure of exactly what happened and where, but the Starks were confirmed dead at the scene. They were reportedly on their way to JFK airport when the collision took place, Mr. Stark himself at the wheel. More updates to follow as we receive more information...”

tags: @atypical-snowman @stark-strange-love2 @h3mmy @kiwidino @chocopiggy @doctorstephenvincentstarkstrange @maya-custodios-dionach @majesticnerdynerd @spooky-n-spunky @thespacecryptid @ocforeverything

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flying-nightwing · 4 years

Text

Sparks Must Fly to Start a Fire (1/2)

(spongebob theme voice) Are ya ready kids? OoooOooh, who keeps updating in the middle of the night? That-lit-tle-bitch!

Hey guys! I was supposed to do one chunky fic but uhhhh I decided to split it in two so (1) you can have it sooner and (2) not have to pay attention for 10k+ words because I’m there guys and it’s not over (doing this for my ADHD people lmao where y’all at). So yeah. I’m having mad fun with that one, I can’t seem to stop typing. All the tropes, people. All of them. For y’all. Can’t say I’m never doing anything for you (ok I might be trying to make up for the recent heartbreaks I caused). Stay tuned for more juicy stuff in part 2, and as always, enjoy 💕💕

Masterlist in bio // pinned

Requested: Yes (anon)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Word count: 5477

Warnings: Language, violence.

Summary: When you make a move against your family, a known associate of big crime syndicates in Gotham, you find yourself in a precarious position of danger. Luckily, your new collaborator Bruce Wayne got an idea to keep you safe, which might not please the people involved.

Note: In this house we stan flawed characters with room to grow (also Jason is bratty af in this but I swear it makes sense in these circumstances)

Day 1

“... For now, no assumptions can be made on the nature of the disappearance. No ransom note was sent to the family, according to the phone interview with the mother conducted by Gotham News, but the possibility of a money related kidnapping is not out of the question...”

Jason turned down the radio as he pulled into the driveway of the manor. He hadn’t been there in a while, but Bruce’s call sounded somewhat urgent. Usually, he would laugh in his face and hang up before he could even begin explaining himself. But a recent conversation he had kind of kicked him in the butt to at least try and rebuild some sort of family links with his adoptive father and brothers. He had been the last he reached out to, but he got there. And he knew he would have to be the bigger person at some point, so he agreed to hear Bruce out this time.

He pulled his sunglasses and let them hang on his t-shirt, adjusting his leather jacket, before getting out of his car. He walked around it and jogged up the stairs, looking at the empty space where Alfred used to greet him. He probably didn’t count on him showing up, so he didn’t waste his time waiting by the door. Either that, or the stain he left on the family was one of the permanent kind and he was more or less welcome home now. He told himself he didn’t care, but deep down, he prayed it wasn’t the latter.

Coming in, he immediately heard the low chatter from the foyer. He walked there, announcing his presence by the groaning of the heavy wooden doors. The conversation quieted down, and Bruce stood up. However, he paid him little attention as his eyes instantly found the second party, looking immaculate in black and white designer clothes, and the more he looked, the more his eyes narrowed.

However, you didn’t back down. You held the stare of the man who stuck out in the decor like a sore thumb, but seemed comfortable enough in his environment to show he did, in fact, belong here in his own way.

“Why the fuck is Vitto Maroni’s wife doing in your living room?”

While Bruce looked both embarrassed and pissed at the lack of manners, you simply raised an eyebrow. “Fiancée”

“Yeah whatever” He brushed you off, now giving his entire attention to Bruce. “What the fuck?”

“We need to talk”

“Ya think?” He was unsettled, shifting his glance back and forth between Bruce and you. You crossed your arms against your chest, unimpressed by his display of whatever he was doing.

“Come and sit” Bruce invited, but it sounded more like a disguised order. The younger man just stood there in defiance. “Jason”

He didn’t move, so Bruce sat back down with a tired sigh. This exchange seemed like it was a common occurrence rather than a sudden act of rebellion.

“Fine, stay there” He mumbled. “Jason, this is (Y/N). (Y/N), meet my son Jason”

“Adopted” He corrected almost instantly. “And I know who she is. By the way, the whole city’s looking for her, just so you know-- Wait did you kidnap her?”

“I’m right there” You waved sarcastically, annoyed at the fact he was talking like you weren’t even in the room. “And do I look like I’m here against my will?”

He gave you a sneer.

“Jason, stand down” Bruce warned, but it didn’t seem to have much effect on Jason. “She’s here because she just dropped an important number of explicitly incriminating documents on the whereabouts of crime families in Gotham to Gordon, putting herself in a dangerous position by doing so”

“Congratulations on doing something morally right” He gave you a cold smile. “The precinct is that way, we aren’t a security company”

“You aren’t really bright are you?” You tilted your head, ignoring Bruce’s slow, tired closing of his eyes. Jason looked insulted. “All the GCPD cops beside Gordon and maybe one or two idiots fall under the paycheck of a big family. When they trace back the leak to me, and they will, I become fair game. It would be better not to be surrounded by cops when it blows out”

“Poor little girl” He mocked. “I bet--”

“Enough!” Bruce’s voice was loud enough to bring both of your attention to him. “Jason, I’ve seen the documents, and it will be strong enough to deal a blow to the crime family they won’t easily recover from. We’re talking here bank statements, fund transfer receipts, contracts, everything to build a solid case”

Jason took a deep breath, but still sent you a quick glare. “Go on”

“My side of the family isn’t strong enough to come out of a trial with the information I provided” You explained calmly, mirroring his behaviour. “It means prison for my father, brothers, uncles, cousins, all of them, and since I leaked, nobody will want to bail them out and associate with the family of a traitor”

“What about the Maroni side?”

You held his expectant stare, knowing it was the information he wanted to hear. You weren’t sure he would like it, though, seeing how he reacted for everything else. “Well, that really depends on me”

The suspicion in his eyes returned before you could blink. “How so?”

“The evidence will definitely not be sufficient to even convict them, they will worm out of this without much of a hassle...” You paused, sending a quick glance at Bruce. “... But if I testify, it might just be enough to bridge the evidence I got to the Maroni, or a part of the family anyway”

“Okay…” He trailed off. “Then just do that? What’s stopping you?”

“Well first off, the trial will take time to set” You began, and he still looked at you like he didn’t see the problem. You sighed. “I need to stay alive to testify. Fair game, remember? If they get me first it’s over”

“What do you even want us to do about this?”

You slid your glance again to Bruce, expectantly this time. Jason looked in between you two, and his face slowly fell at the realization of what was happening, and of why he was really there.

“No”

“Hear me out” Bruce entered negotiating mode like it was a second nature to him. You observed the exchange closely and with interest. “We can’t afford to let this opportunity go. This is big, Jason”

“Yeah, I know” His tone was anything but understanding. “But it doesn’t change the fact we’re not a fucking security company”

“You think the idea of the back-from-the-dead Wayne son keeping me alive brings me joy?” You argued. Bruce had told you a priori that his son had experience in security type of jobs, but you were beginning to doubt the extent of his professionalism.

“I wouldn’t expect it to” Here came the sarcastic comment once again. “Why can’t you ask another one of your soldiers?”

Bruce flinched ever so slightly, in an almost impossible way to notice. But you did. “For personal reasons you already know”

“And you thought my reasons were different rules?” He challenged.

“You’re the one who is the most familiar with patterns and comportment of criminal families” Bruce explained. “You don’t have to familiarize yourself with systems, m.o., anything, which leaves way less space for mistakes others would make”

Jason remained silent.

“Please”

The both of them kept staring at each other in a silent conversation. The silence was uncomfortable, so you rolled your eyes and grabbed your hand bag, pulling out a wad of cash. You slammed it on the coffee table and pushed it towards Jason, effectively grabbing his attention.

“That’s five thousand dollars upfront, which you get to have now” You said with a sigh. “There’s two more like these once I make it through the trial”

“So now you’re trying to buy me?” He asked, glaring at the money like it was the plague. “Dirty money is dirty money, so what is stopping me from just taking it out of your stupid Gucci handbag and call it a day?”

You had to smile, although it was far from sincere and friendly. “You think I’d keep it all here on me? I’m not an amateur”

“Oh boy” Bruce intervened again. “Let’s not get carried away, please. There is an important matter at hands”

“Fine” He finally conceded. “But you owe me a big one, Bruce. I’ll make it count”

“I didn’t expect any less” He replied in a neutral tone, but there was relief in his posture.

“What’s the game plan here?” Jason crossed his arms against his chest. “So the princess here doesn’t die on me and puts it on my fault”

“I am very sorry for his behaviour” Bruce apologized to you.

“No worries, I’m used to dealing with that kind of attitude” You smiled at him, before returning your hardened glance to Jason. He made a face at you, subtly enough not to warrant another intervention.

“I think the best plan would be to move constantly, never staying in one place more than two or three days at the time” Bruce resumed. “Ideally, put as much distance from Gotham as you can, without either straying too far so you can come back quick if the trial is rushed”

“Which will be most likely the case” You pitched in. “They’ll know I’ll be hiding, and they’ll try to make it as hard as possible for me to come back on time. That is still if a bullet doesn’t find me first”

“So we move you frequently enough they won’t have the time to locate you” He hummed. “Alright. Then let’s go, before I change my mind”

“Reassuring” You breathed out, standing up with your handbag. However he was still standing in the way, unmoving. “Aren’t we going?”

“Not dressed like that, no”

“What’s wrong with this?” You frowned.

He gave you a smirk. “Your little Versace outfit is an attention magnet” He pointed at your clothes. “Add this to your missing person profile, they’ll get you in less than 24 hours whether or not I’m involved. You’ll have to dress like a commoner, princess”

This is ridiculous, you thought. You glanced at Bruce for support, but he refused to meet your eyes, tilting his head from side to side. If anyone should back you up, it was Mister Armani Suit currently sitting to your right.

“He has a point” He admitted, and your jaw slightly dropped. “You’ll have to lay low”

“This-- This is tailored!” It was truly your last argument, and it made Jason snort.

“I don’t care” He shrugged. “I’m sure Grayson still has some things around and won’t mind if you help yourself”

You grimaced, but still followed Jason around the hallways of the manor. His steps were suspiciously light, letting you know he enjoyed this way too much. You should have seen it coming by reacting the way you did to the idea of a considerable downgrade of clothes. You opened the door way too wide and he barged in like he owned the place.

This would be a long, long not-so-vacation.

He finally reached a room, which had been left mostly empty except for furniture. You could see nobody had been there in a while by the lack of personal items beside a few pictures and little items. He rummaged through drawers, pulling out t-shirts and pants.

“You’re lucky Grayson liked tight clothing” He shouted above his shoulder, knowing you were in the threshold waiting for your self inflicted doom. “This might just fit”

He threw you the pile of clothing, half of which fell onto the ground. Yet, you could clearly see that it was only t-shirts, jeans and sweatpants. You gulped as he gestured to the bathroom door, showing you the way. You reluctantly went in and carefully took off your clothes, still planning on taking them with you just in case.

“Oh my god” You muttered as you slipped the rough cotton over your head. The poor quality of the material was screaming against your skin. It was large enough to swallow your frame, but you managed to tweak it in a knot like you had seen so many fashion bloggers do before. You never thought you’d be the one who’d have to do it, though Then came the pants, whose rather skinny cut you were thankful for. It was still somewhat large, but it could have been worse. The waist was still a problem, however. But you grabbed a belt from your bag and called it an outfit--a sorry excuse of an outfit but an outfit nevertheless.

You came back in the bedroom, only to be met with a raised eyebrow. You halted your step, unsure of what to do under his close scrutinization. You felt way less powerful and invulnerable now that your twelve thousand dollars shell was gone, and to make it worse, his expression revealed nothing. He took a good minute before he spoke.

“The belt” He said, but you knew what it meant. He wanted you to get rid of your last lifeline.

“No”

“Yes”

“I’ll lie and say it’s a fake” You compromised, but he still didn’t look convinced. “Look at how I’m dressed, they won’t even consider it’s a real”

“Hmm, alright” He nodded slowly. “I’ll let it slide this time”

You didn’t add anything else as you went to the pile of clothes you had left on the floor, and began packing them in your handbag. You thought it was a crime to put a five dollars shirt in a 5k bag, but you didn’t have much of a choice.

“How much stuff do you have in there?” He called from behind you. “That thing is huge”

“I have enough” You replied cryptically, to which he muttered something no doubt sarcastic under his breath. You had a rotation of underwear, two full outfits and your essentials, and now you added three t-shirts, a pair of jeans and a pair of sweatpants. It was getting pretty full. “It’s very practical”

“Sure” He drawled out. “Will this be a fake too?”

“Gotta commit to the counterfeit gimmick, right?” You said as you turned around. He shrugged. “Are we good to go now?”

“Sure thing, princess”

You bit your lips not to yell at him anymore and followed him to his car. You put your bag on the backseat, which was surprisingly clean, and got it on the passenger seat. Jason got behind the wheel and started to drive down the driveway, until he pulled over on the side of the road. Before you could ask what was going on, he pulled a gun from nowhere and pressed the barrel under your jaw.

“I don’t know what’s your game here, but for your sake I better hope that's exactly what you sold back there” He spoke in a slow, menacing tone. You weren’t moving, but you held the stare down contest anyway. “If this is a scheme to hurt my family, or screw Gotham over even more, I swear the Maronis won’t be the ones you’ll need to hide from”

“You’re not the first man to put a gun to my head and threaten me, so don’t think you can intimidate me that way” You spat back, teeth clenched and venom in your voice. Whatever he expected from your answer, it wasn’t that. “If I tried to play you, there would be a hundred better ways to do so, so lower the fucking gun”

Slowly, the cold metal left your skin, followed by the distinct click of the safety. You controlled the sigh of relief that silently left you, so he wouldn’t know how much your breath was truly trembling on the inside. It’s not because you had been in that situation before that it was any less scary.

Without so much as another glance in your direction, he pressed down the gas pedal and sped away from the manor.

Day 2

You had been on the road for more than thirty hours when Jason finally pulled into the driveway of a remote cabin, far from any passing road.

You were tired and sore despite the little sleep you had gotten, making you wonder how he hadn’t crashed the car yet. Beside rare gas and bathroom breaks--usually done at the same time--he hadn’t stopped at all. However, it showed in the quiet sigh that he was relieved to finally not need to channel his attention on the road. He got out of the car, not bothering to talk at all to you. It had been like that for the entire way, silent except for the one or two “are you hungry” grunts at gas breaks. The only sound in the car had otherwise been the steady rotation of the CDs laying around.

You got out of the car at your turn and stretched. It felt good on your muscles after all that time sitting, and you didn’t want to think about how this would be your routine for an undetermined time. However, you were kind of glad you did not have on your usual clothes for this one, and rather something large and breathing. You would never admit it out loud, however.

You grabbed your bag from the backseat and followed Jason inside. The cabin was small, consisting of a kitchen area, a cluttered desk, a bookshelf, a bed and a half bathroom.

“Where are we?” You asked as he dropped the keys on the desk. You just hoped he hadn’t changed his mind and took you here to murder you, or something.

“Safe house” He replied. “I have maps here. I’ll draw a more tactical trajectory before we start moving for real”

“Okay…”

“I’d say you can take the couch, but…” He trailed off, looking smug as he threw himself on the bed, gesturing at the empty, couchless space and shrugging in mock apology. “Sleep on the floor for all I care”

“I’m not sleeping on the floor” You rebutted, eyebrows furrowed. Who did he think he was?

“Outside then?” His eyes widened slightly in appreciation. “Even better, good idea”

You stood there glaring at him, sprawled out with his hands behind his head. I’ll make that smirk drop from your stupid face, you thought as an idea to piss him off ever more crossed your mind. You dropped your bag on the floor, and with a confident pace, went straight for the bed. Before he could protest or sit up, you crawled in the empty spot at his right.

“Hey what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He threw his hands up in indignation, like you had just tried to stab him.

“Nobody treats me like a dog” You hissed. “Get used to it”

“You’re not sleeping in my bed” He argued, but he was still visibly stunned by your bold action.

“Why not?” You said as you turned to face him.

“I-- It’s MY bed!” He stumbled on his childish reply. “MY rules!”

“What are you gonna do, threaten to shoot me again?”

His flinch was so subtle you almost missed it. But just like Bruce before, you still caught it.

“Fine” He finally gave in, jaw clenched. “But if you take too much space, I’m pushing you off”

“It’s a queen size, you big baby. You’ll be fine” You snapped as you turned again, this time to show him your back.

You closed your eyes in the hope of catching up on your well needed sleep. It had been a wild 48 hours for you, and you had been left exhausted like you had never been. Your eyelids were heavy and the bed seemed more comfortable now than it probably was, lulling you into the arms of morpheus. But Jason had other ideas, as you could both hear and feel him moving around and changing his position every five seconds or so. You were pretty sure he was doing it on purpose, especially when you felt his arm hit the back of your head. Grinding your teeth together, you forced yourself to take deep breaths.

After fifteen minutes of him not being able to stand still, you finally had enough. You had to do something that would stun him again long enough for you to fall asleep and tune out his antics. So you sat up without a word and took off your belt, then pushed your jeans off. He had stopped moving, but it wasn’t enough. You straight up pulled off your shirt and tossed it on the floor, leaving you in your bra and underwear. You caught a glimpse of his agape expression when you laid back again on the bed and brought the covers to your shoulders, and took the opportunity to fall asleep without a hassle.

---

The next time you opened your eyes, daylight was engulfing the cabin. You stirred awake with a groan, not knowing how many hours you had slept. But you felt well rested, so it was all that mattered really.

“Look who’s finally awake”

You lifted your head from the bed, still only half aware of what was going on. Jason wasn’t in the bed anymore, instead he was sitting at the desk and working on it. His back was to you, and by the looks of it, he had no intention to turn around either.

“Whutaymist?”

His head slowly lifted. “What?”

“I said” You repeated, clearer this time. You admitted your mumbling might have been hard to understand. “What time is it?”

“Twenty past two” He answered. “Congratulations, you slept a whole fourteen hours. You win nothing”

“Well good morning to you too” You muttered, rolling your eyes. “What’s for breakfast?”

“I’m not your fucking maid” His tone was flat and stern. Still, he gestured to the kitchen counter. Your eyes followed his hand to see a single, unopened can of soup.

“Canned soup? Seriously?”

“Hey, be my guest not to eat it” He said with his usual sarcasm. “If you die of starvation, that’s one less problem for me”

“You would like that too much, wouldn’t you” You bit back, sitting up and throwing your legs to the side. You didn’t miss how his shoulder tensed the second you pushed the covers off, reminding you of your lack of clothing. You didn’t care however, as you just walked across the cabin to get to your bag. You grabbed a fresh pair of underwears, a t-shirt and the pair of sweatpants, which you decided you’d wear strictly on days you weren’t moving around.

You weren’t emotionally ready to be seen in public with sweatpants.

You decided to take a quick shower, with cold water as you brutally discovered seconds later. You could just see the satisfied grin on Jason’s lips as you squealed in surprise at the sudden extreme temperature. Still, you went through with it just to prove you could. You hurried to dry yourself and your hair with a towel in a cupboard, then dressed up again with the same tricks you had used on your last makeshift outfit. Except this time, the belt was the drawn strings of the pants.

“How was the shower?” He asked smugly when you came out, still working over his desk with his back to you. “Hope it wasn’t too cold”

“It was just perfect, actually” You answered just as smugly, and that was enough to make him turn his head toward you. “Cold water is amazing for the hair and skin”

It looked like he was waiting for you to crack and admit it was in fact too cold, but you only gave him a serene smile. He huffed and went back to whatever he was doing. You walked to the kitchen and began searching for a pot for the soup, certainly that would come handy, then grabbed a spoon and a bowl to put beside the stove. You however paused at the can itself, not sure where to go from now. You tried prying the top of the can open, to undo the label and see if there was something under to open it, then looked around for anything that could help you.

“You don’t know how to open a can, do you?”

You jumped at the sound of Jason’s, but also from it being way closer than the desk. You spun around to see him leaning on a cupboard, a mocking expression on his face.

“Well, I’ve never done this before” You defended, folding your arms against yourself. He pushed himself from the cupboard and went straight to the second drawer on your left, pulling out a strange device and handing it to you. “What do you want me to do with that?”

“Open the can”

“It looks like it’s meant for torture”

“It really isn’t”

You rolled your eyes and began to figure this all out. You tried it one way, then the other, accidentally pinched your finger on the handles and dropped the can about four times on the counter. You stopped for a moment, sighing in defeat. Still, you observed the mechanism closer, then back at the can, then back to the can opener. Surely, the little dented wheels had to go on the edge of the can…

Next time you tried it, it worked.

You were so taken by the fact that you had figured out how to open a can almost by yourself that you hadn’t noticed Jason coming into your space. When you did notice it though, you took a step back. You still couldn’t read his expression, but if there was one thing you were sure of, it wasn’t a positive kind of invasion of your bubble. You picked warning signals from him and it made you recoil on yourself. He looked a whole other kind of dangerous like that, and it kind of reminded you of the people you were used to having around you. Not quite, but close.

“Did you use my shampoo?”

You squared up your shoulder, not about to let him try and intimidate you once again. “Yes”

He remained there for a moment, like he was trying to either stare into your soul, scare you off or hold back a fart. It could be either, you weren’t actually sure.

“I don’t like when people take my stuff,” He said. “Especially without asking me first”

“Fine” You huffed. “Do I have the permission from His Majesty the King not to smell like a dumpster?”

He narrowed his eyes, but backed off. “Eat your goddamn soup” He turned around and walked back to his desk. “And don’t burn the cabin doing so!”

Day 5

“I don’t understand this store”

After leaving the cabin, Jason agreed to make a quick stop at Target to grab snack supplies and more fitting clothes for you. First of all because he wanted to avoid a redo of the underwear in bed incident, and also because he realized moving around with unfitting men’s clothes might bring another type of unwanted attention. His goal was for you to look normal, and while it did the trick better than designer clothes by a landslide, it still looked slightly off.

“What don’t you understand?” He asked back on a condescending tone. “It’s a store”

“You buy clothes, groceries and hygiene supplies at the same place?” You frowned, looking down at the two pairs of jeans and few monochrome shirts you had picked from the racks. There was also a pajama set there with shampoo and shower gel, plus a pair of new running shoes with ankle socks, and a travel bag to put everything you had. Your Gucci bag was getting too full for all of that. “Why?”

“Welcome to the normal world, princess” He replied, disinterested. “People don’t have the time or money to go to specialized store for everything”

“Hmm” You hummed, watching him throw packs of cashews and beef jerky in the cart. He picked some more things, including water bottles and energy drinks, anything that seemed appealing to him and never asking you for your opinion. Honestly, you didn’t expect him to at this point, and besides, none of these snacks seemed appealing to you.

After a while of Jason lazily pushing the cart around, you noticed it was the third time you went past the potato chips row. He didn’t seem bothered, but you could see a small tension in his shoulders.

“What are you doing?” You asked, thinking it was his way to waste your time.

“We’re being followed” He whispered back, grabbing your shoulder before you could turn around and take a peek. “Don’t look!”

“Sorry jeez” You breathed, shaking off your shoulder from his grip.

“About fifteen feet behind us” He explained. “If that guy wanted honey mustard pretzel bites, he would have taken them the first two times he checked them”

From the corner of your eyes, you spotted the man in question. He was wearing a black leather jacket and sunglasses inside, and was very obviously pretending to read the back of the bag. Jason nodded at you to keep walking, and the man followed from his careful distance.

“Would you relax for two minute?” He hissed at you. “If you look like you have a broomstick shoved up your ass, he’ll know we spotted him”

“Well, what do you want me to do?” You replied in the same tone. “I might die in the next minutes in a fucking Target, even irony is mocking me now”

“You won’t die” His eyes were casted forward, like he’d strangle you if he looked at you. “Just--Just walk to the registers like a human being, I’ll deal with him once we’re outside”

You didn’t answer that, only followed him to the self checkout registers. At least you could hide behind his huge frame as he scanned the items one by one, calm and collected like nothing was happening. The sketchy man was on the farthest register from you, checking out his bag of pretzels. Jason finally paid and took the bag, shoving it in your hands. For once, you didn’t complain about his lack of manners and walked a brisk pace out of the store. You were parked in a deserted end of the lot, yet, the man did not change his course. He was set on you.

You had reached the car when you noticed Jason was, in fact, gone. He was not beside you anymore, leaving you completely open. Fear gripped your heart as the footsteps behind you grew louder and stopped too close to comfort. You shut your eyes tight for a moment, knowing this would be the end for you. You heard the safety of a gun click, and you gulped.

“Vitto Maroni sends his regards”

Then the gun fired, the distinct sound of a muffled shot by a silencer going off. However, you didn’t feel pain, or fall on the ground. Instead, you heard a thud behind you and your eyes popped open. You turned around to see Jason leaning over the unmoving form of the man sent to kill you.

“viTto mArOni sEnDs hiS rEgArDs” He mocked, kicking the guy. “Dumbass. Can’t even watch his five”

“Where did you go?!” You yelled, as it was the only thing you could say in the fall of your anxious state.

He raised his gun and gave you an incredulous stare. “Uh, you’re welcome?”

“You left me alone!”

“Come on, get in the car, we need to get out of there” He sighed, gesturing to the door. You didn’t argue, but you knew you weren’t done. You climbed in the passenger seat and waited until he was far enough from the store.

“So I am the bait now?” Your shouting fest resumed. “What if he had fired before you did?”

“First of all, you became the bait yourself when you decided to air your family’s dirty laundry” He pointed out, not fazed at all by your outburst. “Second, he was a dumbass. He didn’t even take precaution when I disappeared on him, and he didn’t see me round the car and come up behind. And third, nobody shoots before me”

“That’s a bold risk to take” You raised your eyebrows in challenge. He eyed you up and down and shrugged.

“Meh, I’m fine with it”

“I could have died!”

“But did you?”

“No”

“Then case closed” He smiled smugly. “You let me worry about your security detail, and you shut your mouth and appreciate it, ‘kay?”

You huffed and crossed your arms against your chest in a defensive position, sinking into your seat further. Your eyes were dead set on the passing trees outside, mad you almost died, but mostly, mad you thought Jason had abandoned you to die.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd x you #jason todd #red hood #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #dc #dcu #dc universe #dc imagine #dcu imagine #dc universe imagine #batfam #batfam imagine #imagine #red hood x you #outlaws

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teentitanimals · 4 years

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AU Where All the Batkids are in School but are Still Superheroes

I see a lot of No Powers Highschool AUs out there, but superheroing is half the fun to me. And yeah, technically, I’m pretty sure most of the Batfam have been to school, but I mean, at the same time? You’d have to squish their ages down, but I think it’d be wild! And also, it’s all the Batkids (and some Superkids because why not, they go to the same school in this AU, okay?), including Helena, Terry, Matt, etc. And yes, they all keep their backstories (as in, Terry and Matt are still McGinnis’s too, and all that.) Also, I suck at knowing the education level system and ages, so, just a warning there.

Not in School (duh): Bruce, Alfred, Selina, Jim, Lucius, Clark, Lois, other adults

In (Fourth Year) College: Kate (23-24)

In (Second Year) College: Dick, Barbara (19-20)

In (First Year) College: Tam (18-19)

In Senior Year: Jason, Luke, Kara (17-18)

In Junior Year: Cass, Harper, Terry (16-17)

In Sophomore Year: Tim, Steph, Carrie, Duke, Conner (15-16)

In Freshman Year: Damian, Helena, Colin (14-15)

In 8th Grade: Matt, Jon, Cullen (13-14)

In 4th Grade: Timothy Fox (9-10)

In Kindergarten: Tiffany (5-6)

Who Stays Where?

For reference, I’d say they all go to a school somewhere between Gotham and Metropolis, rather than Gotham Academy or Metropolis High. Let’s call it... Mediocre High. A mediocre school for completely normal, mediocre kids.

Stays in Metropolis w/ Clark and Lois, but are at Wayne Manor 90% of the time anyway: Kara, Conner, Jon

Has their own apartments/safehouses but are at Wayne Manor 90% of the time time anyway: Kate, Dick, Jason, Tim, Steph, Harper

Stays at Wayne Manor: Terry, Cass, Carrie, Duke, Damian, Helena, Colin, Matt, Cullen (unless Cullen stays with his sister... or if any of them run away, because they do that often too)

Stays with their parents, or at their own apartments, and are at Wayne Manor a little less than 90% of the time anyway: Barbara, Tam, Luke, Timothy, Tiffany

What’s the Sitch with Relationships?

Biologically Bruce’s, and known to the public as biologically Bruce’s: Damian, Helena

Biologically Bruce’s, but not known to the public as biologically Bruce’s: Terry, Matt (these two often visit their mother!)

Legally adopted by Bruce: Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Duke

Not legally adopted by Bruce but, come on, they’re his kids anyway: Harper, Cullen, Carrie, Colin

Family Friends that are like siblings/cousins (or siblings-in-law ;3): Kara, Conner, Jon, Barbara, Steph, Tam, Luke, Timothy, Tiffany

Wine Aunt/Older Sister: Kate

Shenanigans

It was a hilarious bit started by Steph and encouraged by Dick, Jason, and Carrie that they should all stuff themselves into the smallest limo or helicopter possible and crawl out like clowns. It was funny, to be fair, but the bloodshed spilled because of it banned them from doing it again. The kids got split into two separate cars after that, but eventually went back to one big limo, except for those who’d prefer to keep their sanity and drive there on their own (assuming they have a licence).

This batch of kids, excluding Kara, Conner and Jon, are often referred to as the “Wayne kids”, or the “Gotham kids”. Sometimes Kara, Conner and Jon get called Gotham Kids as well, despite being from Metropolis and proud. They’re vocality from protesting against being called Gotham Kids earned them the nickname “Not-Gotham Kids”.

Damian, Helena, Colin, Matt, Jon and Cullen are one of Those groups. Often together, closely knit, all characters on their own, but together, they lose all braincells. Teachers love all of them individually (with the exception of Damian), but are absolutely terrified of them as a group.

The second group most like that would be the girls- Tam, Kara, Steph, Cass, Harper, Carrie and sometimes Barbara, Kate and Helena. Alone, they’re pretty good kids, but together their chaotic-ness knows no bounds.

Who are we kidding? All of these kids are like that. Put any two together, and you’re either going to see someone get stabbed, a glitter bomb explode, an impromptu dance session, or debate the pronunciation of “bologna” for an hour.

Due to Damian often claiming he’s the rightful heir as the blood son, Helena, Matt and Terry will often pipe up to remind him that he isn’t the only blood son (or daughter, in Helena’s case). This often causes problems, not because Damian attacks them (verbally or physically), but because Terry and Matt aren’t, in the public’s eye, biologically Bruce’s, so the kids often have to scramble to make up some excuse to outsiders, often settling with it being an inside joke.

In this AU, Terry and Matt go by “Futurebat and Futurebird” because Why Not? As for Conner and Jon both being Superboy... how about, we just keep it that way? Because, really, Why Not? The public dubs them both the “Superboys”, and there’s no need to change it for now. Sometimes Conner gets called the Superclone, but mostly they just differentiate by some variation of “Superboy One/Uno and Superboy Two/Dos”. Sometimes “Superteen and SuperPre-Teen” when Jon was a bit younger. Also, think of all the shenanigans that can arise from that. Amazing.

Damian, at first, had as much hate towards Helena (and eventually Terry and Matt when they learned of them as well) as he did towards Tim. But, Helena always found his anger a bit funny (so long as it wasn’t life-threatening, which it often was). She never wanted to “be the heir” to Batman or Catwoman. She just happened to be their kid, and she wanted her own hero persona anyway, aka The Huntress.

To explain the situation with Helena, Terry and Matt, I’d say Helena (who’s a few months younger than Damian) was raised by Bruce and Selina, but the two’s relationship was on-and-off, and there were long periods where Selina would solo-parent Helena and Bruce (or Alfred and/or Dick, really) would solo-parent Helena. Eventually, the two got their shit together and are currently in a loving relationship, but not married yet. Terry and Matt were, of course, kept hidden from Bruce, being raised by Warren and Mary in a loving family. Eventually, after the death of Warren, and Terry trying to strike out as a solo hero, and the discovery that his DNA matched Bruce’s rather than Warren’s, their story was revealed that Terry was planned to be “future Batman” by Amanda Waller (needless to say Damian did Not Like That). Terry confronted Bruce and told him about it, and eventually Matt would learn the truth as well.

The only people Damian actively calls by their first names are Jon, Colin and Helena. Helena is only because Damian didn’t want to admit she was a Wayne at first (even though her legal last name in this AU is Kyle-Wayne).

They have a lot of animals, some are permanent, some come and go, some are just strays they feed, but nothing will compare to the amount of cats they have. The majority are strays that stay outside of the manor, yes, but they have too many. Sometimes they’ll be walking down a street opposite side of Gotham, and see one of their cats. This isn’t even because Selina now lives with them, and she brought her cats with her. No, it’s because Dick, Barbara, Jason and Steph, among others, loved the idea of Catwoman being a crazy cat lady, so they kept getting her more cats, which, in turn, gave everyone a new cat. And Damian was not helping in the least bit. Selina at least tried to stop them from bringing more cats home, but Damian would smuggle them back in anyway. Bruce honestly wishes someone had a cat allergy so they would have an excuse not to have that many cats.

Helena is a dog person. She likes cats, but... Dogs.

The Batkids all fight over the right of getting to babysit Tiffany.

Cass is often called the Good Kid by teachers and staff. That is not true, the true Good Kid is Duke. This is because he’s the only one that can maintain his braincells even in a group... 90% of the time, anyway.

Half of these kids will vanish during school hours to go stop some crime even though Bruce has repeatedly told them not to do that. The other kids who are not superhero vigilantes or manage to respect said rule (which is not often) scramble to make excuses for them. No excuse has ever been something normal, but it works because “When have Wayne kids ever been normal?”

School events like dances and football games are awful. Some of the kids are aware going will be awful, and desperately try to get out of it, but someway, somehow, they always wind up there. It would have been chaotic enough just having the Gotham Kids go, but when they bring their friends too (Teen Titans, Young Justice, Outlaws, whomever), there’s no hope. Their classmates at school both fear and look forward to these events, depending on how they go down. On one hand, it’s the Waynes! You’re basically watching “Keeping up with the Waynes” in real life! On the other hand, oh god, don’t get caught in the crossfire, whatever you do, run for dear life if you must.

Amazingly, Dick is the only one who got permanently banned from these events. And he didn’t even do anything. Well... anything as bad as his siblings, anyway.

They have all gotten suspended at least once, whether they are a Good Kid or not. Jason is actually one of the Good Kids so long as his siblings aren’t around to annoy him, but he got caught with a gun once, and barely escaped getting expelled... well, actually, he didn’t barely escape it, he was a Good Kid after all. But it was still on the table. That was, miraculously, the only time he got suspended.

Damian, surprisingly, does not have the highest suspension rate, but he does have the highest “called into the office” rate. You can guess all the reasons- sneaking pets into school, sneaking wild animals into school, having knifes and/or other weapons on him, belittling other students (he’s not intentionally trying to bully them, but, he can’t help but point out what they’re doing wrong), arguing and insulting teachers, ditching class (for vigilantism of course), etc.

The highest suspension rate goes to Dick, before he went to college. Mostly it was just due to how often he would skip classes and not turn in homework, but occasionally he would get into fights (to defend another kid, usually). The schools hadn’t yet gotten tolerable to the chaos that is the Waynes yet.

I suppose I should list the Good Kids. They are as follows: Cass, Duke, Jason, Luke, Helena, Cullen, Jon and Tiffany (she is Small and Innocent).

The Bad Kids: DAMIAN, Conner, Steph (she likes causing trouble for fun), Carrie (same as Steph, but more class clown-y) and Terry (mostly when he was younger).

The Bad Kids Sometimes: Harper, Timothy Fox, Kara

The Neutral Kids: Tam, Tim (depends on whether he’s crashed from lack of sleep or caffeine overdose), Dick, Matt, Barbara

The “Troubled” Kids (don’t label them that schools, rude): Colin, Cullen too technically but he’s more “Good”, Kate, literally all of them depending on the time of day (or night, specifically)

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fishfingersandjellybabies · 4 years

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For the Flame Always So Loved the Stars - fic

Characters: Damian Wayne, Jon Kent, Tim Drake, Conner Kent, Kara Kent, Clark Kent, Lois Lane Pairing: jondami Summary: Nothing stays the same forever. But fairytales always end the same way. A/N: This is just a whole fucking lot of self-indulgent garbage. Takes place over 5 years, Damian is 18-23, and Jon is 15-20. The last section is just their superhero way of saying ‘I love you and always will.’ but like. Subtly. I wrote this for myself, but I’m pleased with how it came out, so I hope you like it too. Sorry not sorry for literally the first line of this fic haha. The legend was googled so I took the most similar parts in all the wikis I read. I ignored the part where they all said ‘their story always ends in tragedy and betrayal’ but I’m going for happy endings dammit.

Dick Grayson died when Damian was eighteen.

He wasn’t there. No one from the family was. It was a simple carjacking gone wrong. A single bullet, straight to the chest, from a scared kid who thought completing the initiation to the local gang was his only option to survive in this life.

It was almost funny. A single bullet. No poison, no torture. No evil mastermind, or world-ending apocalypse. No battles against armies, or lives and loves at stake. Not anything they dealt with daily.

Just an old car with a purse left on the passenger seat that someone saw. Just a weak spot in aged armour that was going to be replaced in the next year or so.

Just a single bullet.

Damian doesn’t remember much from after he was told, after he came home from class and found his siblings and Stephanie waiting for him in the parlor. He remembered knowing it must have been bad; Tim’s face was blotchy, his eyes red-rimmed and he wasn’t even trying to hide it.

Stephanie was the one who told him. Cassandra held his hand. But that was about it. That was all his mind supplied.

That, and the fact that his first thought after being told was: ‘But that’s not fair.’

Not fair because Dick was the best of them, in every way. Because he was funny, smart, kind, and every single thing a hero should be. A good person.

Not fair because Damian only got eight years with him, his closest confidante, one of his only friends. Because Damian decided at age ten that a world without Dick Grayson was not one he wanted to live in, and yet here he was, in the worst reality he could think of.

He doesn’t remember much from after he was told. He remembers Stephanie saying: “Dick died, Damian.” He remembers thinking: ‘But that’s not fair.’

Then...he remembers a pain in his knees. Remembers blinking and finding himself staring at the floor, which was much closer than it should have been. He remembers his sister kneeling in front of him, allowing him to press his forehead into her shoulder. Remembers Jason next to him, rubbing his back, asking if they should get him water, or take him upstairs.

He remembers hearing Tim sob, and that might be the most memorable thing of the moment, because his body registered that that’s what he wanted to do too, he wanted to cry.

But he couldn’t, because you don’t cry over things that weren’t real. And that’s obviously why he collapsed, why he couldn’t form words to come out of his mouth, why his mind was refusing to remember this moment.

Because it wasn’t real.

It couldn’t be.

Jon was antsy. Nervous.

Alfred had called days ago to inform him and his parents what had happened. And Jon had already been halfway out the door when the butler interjected to request that none of them visit, not right now. The Waynes and their closest companions were grieving, and needed to be alone.

And he hated that – he hated being away from Damian on a good day, but now, when Damian was going to need him? It was pure agony.

So two weeks later, when Clark gave him the okay, he took off to Gotham faster than he ever had before, and bypassed every bit of security measures that Bruce asked him to complete upon arriving.

He found Damian in the cemetery, and he had a feeling it was a place Damian didn’t often leave anymore.

Jon said nothing as he approached. Just plopped next to Damian and silently wrapped his arms around the other’s neck. Damian didn’t say anything either, but he leaned gratefully into the embrace, reaching up to cling to Jon’s forearm.

“I’m so sorry.” Jon whispered, leaning back. He didn’t leave Damian’s personal space, though. Kept their shoulders touching, knees keeping each other warm. “I…I don’t know what else to say. To think.”

“Me neither.” Damian murmured. His voice sounded dry, and Jon wondered when he last drank anything, or ate. “But…I’m glad you’re here.”

Jon let himself smile a little bit, and reached out to hold Damian’s hand. Damian didn’t refute the gesture, and even squeezed Jon’s fingers between his. “I wish I’d had been allowed to come sooner.”

Damian shrugged. “It was better you didn’t see any of us as we…were.”

“Were, huh?” Jon asked dubiously. He glanced forward towards Dick’s grave. Flowers and statues covered it as a makeshift memorial, and the flowers were starting to wilt. “…How are you doing with all this?”

Damian absently shook his head. “I don’t…I don’t know.”

Jon waited, sensing there was more. Had a feeling that in their grief-induced isolation, not many feelings were shared amongst the Wayne family. That they probably all suffered in silence, despite being together.

“I…I didn’t get enough time with him.” Damian continued, just like Jon knew he would. Because Damian didn’t trust easily, but when he did, he trusted you with everything. And Jon knew he was one of the few Damian trusted. Maybe the only one, now. “Eight years. That’s it.”

He squeezed Jon’s hand again.

“If I’d had known that’s all we would have gotten, I…I wouldn’t have wasted it. There was so much I wanted to do with him. Learn from him.” Damian sniffed, and Jon looked up at his eyes. But he didn’t see a hint of tears. In fact, he saw nothing. Damian’s eyes were empty. “But now I’ll never get the chance. I’ll never get to ask how he escaped Father and Gotham. How he survived on his own, and found himself, or how can I do that too. How I can leave Robin, and start over somewhere else like he did. How he rebuilt his life, how he became and remained kind. Did he think it was possible I can remain kind too? Did he…did he believe in me? Or what about how…”

Damian trailed off, and Jon was almost glad he did. Because in his ramblings, Jon heard something, and he wasn’t so sure Damian meant to let it slip.

“You want to leave Robin?” Jon asked softly. Damian’s mouth clamped shut. “Since when?”

Damian stared at the stone in front of him for a moment, before sighing and looking at the ground.

“A few months.” Damian admitted. “I…just don’t fit in it anymore, I don’t think. Or it doesn’t fit me. And I can’t stay in Batman’s shadow forever, no matter who is wearing the mantle. Besides, Grayson left it when he was around my age. As did Drake, even if it wasn’t by his choice. I might as well follow the tradition as well.”

“…Does your dad know?”

“…No. No one does.” Damian frowned. “I was going to speak with Grayson about it next time I saw him, but now…now you’re the only one who knows by default, I suppose.”

“Well, thanks for telling me.” Jon smiled. He waited a moment, then looked up at the sky. “So…what do you want to do after you leave Robin? Find a new name? Quit and go on the straight and narrow?”

“I don’t know. That’s…what I was going to speak to Grayson about.” Damian admitted softly. “I want to still help, of course. But…is behind a mask the best way? Is Gotham where I’m best utilized?” He sighed, and curled his knees to his chest. Though he never let go of Jon’s hand. “But now…now I am even more confused.”

“Why?”

“Because Batman needs a Robin, and I can’t leave my father now, Jon.” Damian almost snapped, like it was obvious. “He’s grieving, and he’s lost. He shouldn’t be alone. He shouldn’t be left alone.”

“Absolutely not. I agree.” Jon nodded. “But…it can’t all fall on you, D. Just like it can’t fall on Alfred or Tim. He has his family, no matter where in the world they – you – are, and he has his friends. He has my dad, and Diana.”

“This is different. This is the loss of Richard. And not even Superman can heal that wound.” Damian shook his head. “Not to mention…if I left now, would my father see it as a betrayal? Abandonment? Would the family?”

“They wouldn’t. They couldn’t.” Jon argued. “You’re growing up, and they all know how it is. You can’t be stuck as the Boy Wonder forever, that’s not fair to you. Does the timing kind of suck? Maybe. But also…maybe this is the best time.” He hesitated, but squeezed Damian’s hand and said his thoughts anyway. “Maybe this is exactly what Dick would want you to do. Spread your wings and fly, so to speak.”

Damian stared at the ground. “…I don’t know what I’m going to do without him, Jon. I truly don’t. What if, without his guidance, I’m tempted by my mother again, and actually consider any offer she makes? What if I stray, and Batman cuts me loose, like I was burden in the first place? What if-”

“Hey, hey – stop. Don’t talk like that.” Jon shook their clasped hands. “None of that is going to happen, okay? Despite the fact that it won’t ever happen at all in the first place, I won’t let it. I promise. Alright?”

Damian didn’t look at him. But after a moment, he let himself tilt to the side, and lean his head on Jon’s shoulder.

“…Thanks for being here, Kent.” Damian whispered. “It means a lot.”

Jon let go of Damian’s hand, only to wrap his arm around his shoulders instead. He looked at the tombstone at their feet, sent a silent prayer up to Dick himself. “Don’t even mention it, D.”

A few months later, Robin had all but disappeared off the streets. It prompted news articles and primetime specials. Conspiracy theory websites and Twitter hashtags.

Jon liked to print them out and bring them to Damian every time he visited.

He was still in Gotham, and even still going out on patrol with Batman and the rest. But now his uniform was all black, and he stayed in the background as much as he could. This new shadow of Batman’s was never mentioned in the papers, never caught in a photo. A ghost, almost.

That wasn’t Damian’s new moniker, though. He still hadn’t chosen one.

“Not even a general idea?” Jon asked one day, as he and Conner visited. Tim had taken the newly printed article and was reading it over with an amused smirk, Conner cackling behind him. “Or like, a motif?”

“Not a priority.” Damian had shrugged. “Maybe I’ll never pick one.”

“Now you’re just being stubborn.” Jon pouted. “…How’s Bruce doing?”

Damian shrugged again. “Same as always. Attempts to lock himself in the cave, or in his office with work from Wayne Enterprises. I drag him out of the house at least every other day.”

Jon pursed his lips.

“But he’s been smiling lately. Like real smiles. So, it’s a start.” Damian promised. He knew Jon didn’t like this, Damian caring for Bruce. Because he knew that same care was not being reciprocated in the way it should.

“How long are you going to stay?” Jon asked, as he did every visit. “In Gotham, I mean.”

“I don’t know. Also not a priority.” Damian sighed. “I’m needed here, both in uniform and at home. When I feel I’m not necessarily needed, then I’ll start considering my options elsewhere.”

Something felt different when Jon was nineteen.

Clark and Conner found him sitting in the kitchen, staring fiercely into a soda can when they arrived home one afternoon.

“Hey, champ.” Clark hummed, leaning down to kiss Jon’s temple.

“Hey, Dad. Hey Kon” Jon sighed. “How was Gotham?”

“Gloomy, like always.” Conner chuckled, plopping down across from him. “Damian said hello, by the way.”

Jon felt himself blush a little bit. And he shouldn’t have, he’s known Damian forever. But lately, it felt like the two of them were growing closer, in a way he never expected when they were just teenagers trying to live up to their fathers’ legacies.

In a way that included flirting, holding hands in a park, in front of paparazzi. A way that included what may have been a date, since it ended in a quick, barely there kiss.

“He said he was going to give an answer to a question he knows you’d ask.” Clark continued, drawing Jon out of his reverie. “No, he has not decided on a new codename yet.”

Jon groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “He knows this isn’t like a blood contract or something, right? It doesn’t have to be permanent! It’s not that big of a choice!”

Clark held his hands up. “Don’t shoot the messenger, son.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Jon sighed. He sat back up and watched his father grab a glass and start to fill it in the sink. “Speaking of codenames and all that…”

Clark tilted his head as Conner sat up.

“I don’t…when do you think…” Jon huffed. “Conner, when did you realize you didn’t want to…be called Superboy anymore?”

Conner pursed his lips, looked at the ceiling. “I don’t know. Guess I never really thought about it. Just…stopped using it. And eventually everyone else did too.”

“I don’t think I knew that.” Clark mumbled sheepishly. “What do you go by now, may I ask?”

“Nothing, really. And not like Damian where I’m still deciding something. But just…Kon, usually. Different enough from Conner, honestly.” Conner grinned. “A lot of people also seem to think it’s Con – as in Pros and Cons? Works real well for the taunting wordplay and all that too.”

Clark snorted. “I’m sure your friends love the puns.”

“Bart does. Cassie, depends on the day. Tim is like a disappointed dad all the time anyway, so he doesn’t count.” Conner waved off. He returned his attention to Jon, whose attention seemed to be drifting off again. “Why do you ask, squirt?”

Jon frowned at the name, and that was new. Normally he didn’t mind the random nicknames his older brother gave him. “Because…I don’t…I don’t know. I don’t think…I want to be called Superboy anymore.”

Clark joined them at the table, sitting down carefully. “Why not?”

“Because, I’m not a boy anymore. I’m a teenager. I mean, I’m…I’m practically an adult!” Jon sounded exasperated already, like he’d had this conversation a million times. “It’s…it’s demeaning, and childish, and…and…”

He trailed off into a huff, slumping in his chair.

“I don’t even know if I want to keep the Super part, honestly.” Jon glanced at Clark. “Sorry, Dad.”

Clark shook his head, raising his hand. “None taken, Jonno.”

“Especially since I don’t feel all that super most of the time anyway.” He sighed.

“…If you want out of the life, Jon, I wouldn’t blame you.” Clark offered. “I’d love it, honestly. It’d just mean you’d be safer.”

“No, no. I want to be a hero. I want to help. I just.” Jon leaned back forward, hiding his face in his hands. “This is stupid. I feel stupid.”

Conner smiled and leaned forward, slapping his hand on Jon’s shoulder. “Not stupid. Pretty sure every hero has gone through it at least once in their tenure. Even Batman.”

“And he settled on Bat. Man.” Clark winked. “So obviously not all names are winners.”

Jon looked over to Clark. “…You’re not disappointed?”

“That you want a new codename? Not at all.” Clark grinned. “My only request is…don’t take over four years to decide something like Damian is.”

Jon smiled. “I’ll try.”

“Maybe I’ll just go by Krypto.” Jon lamented from the bed. “He’s a dog, so I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“If you started going by Krypto.” Damian countered from the bathroom doorway. “I’m disowning you as my friend.”

Jon rolled to his side, deeper into the blankets. “What about as your potential bedmate?”

Damian’s face twisted, even as he came forward. “Christ, Jon. We haven’t even done anything, how do you still make that sound so dirty?”

“Because I know what annoys you. And if you’d just let me say boyfriend-”

“Which we are not officially.” Damian countered. “…Yet.”

“-Then I wouldn’t have to say things like bedmate, or friend with benefits.”

“We haven’t done anything, there is no benefit for either of us at this point.” Damian reiterated, even as Jon tugged at his arm when he got close enough. Damian sat on the edge of the bed, and almost smiled when Jon shimmied over to place his head in his lap. “Though I am finding your company less beneficial by the minute…”

Jon cackled, even as he felt Damian’s fingers twist into his hair. “Hey, if nothing else, I’m a good cuddle buddy, right?”

“My cat is better.” Damian shrugged. “Probably.”

“I’ll take the probably as a win.” Jon grinned. “…But hey, think about it this way.”

“Hm?”

“Even if I went by something dumb like Krypto, at least I picked a new codename.”

Damian frowned, and pulled his hand back. “For as charming as your parents are, neither of them taught you how to flirt properly, did they?”

Jon immediately pulled his arms out of the blanket, latching on to Damian’s waist. “You hate when I sidetrack a conversation. I was getting back on point.”

“…Fair.” Damian sighed. “I’ll allow it.”

“…Are you any closer to picking anything?” Jon asked. “According to Barry, you’re throwing off everyone’s betting pools.”

“I...have an idea.” Damian murmured, keeping his gaze away from Jon’s. “But I still need to think of a backup.”

“What? Why?” Jon asked.

“…Personal reasons.” Damian murmured. “And I don’t wish to get my hopes up.”

Jon watched him silently.

“But we aren’t talking about me.” Damian countered. “Have you thought of any other suggestions for yourself?”

“I don’t know. Something related to my dad, like Krypton? Or even like your dad – he named himself after what he was scared of, right? Or weakness. So, Kryptonite.” Jon listed. “Or maybe I should just be lazy and follow everyone else’s lead. Starman, or Sunguy or something stupid like that.”

“Hm. Well. Those are certainly…options.” Damian tilted his head apologetically. “I’d offer assistance, but…well…”

Jon laughed.

“Be my distraction instead, how about that?” Jon suggested instead. Without warning, he used his momentum to throw Damian back onto the bed, cocoon him in the blankets as he loomed overhead. “Because there’s totally a lot of other things I’d like to be doing than thinking of new codenames.”

Damian smiled as Jon leaned in for a kiss.

He didn’t know how Damian had lasted four years without a name. It’d only been a few months for himself, a few months of not using any name, and he felt like he was going crazy.

He also felt like he was a total letdown.

He was a Kent, for crying out loud. Son of Superman and one of the world’s greatest journalists. And here, he couldn’t choose a name, couldn’t pick a damn word.

Not to mention, it was detrimental in the field. When he didn’t notice an enemy coming behind him, or someone needed his help – he had no name to be called. And they couldn’t just shout Jon.

How did Damian make it look so easy? Because Damian and his family were freaks. They all moved too in-sync, too well trained. They were like animals themselves – they didn’t need to speak, movement was like instinct. Communication could be silent, because all of them were always three steps ahead of each other.

He let out a guttural groan as he entered the apartment, slammed the door behind him a little too hard. Heard the squeak of the chair in his mother’s office as she stood to greet him.

“Hi honey.” She called, walking into the room. She took in the annoyance on his face and gave him a sympathetic, knowing grin. “It’s not the end of the world, Jon. Names aren’t that big of a deal. So long as you’re helping, who cares what your name is?”

“I know, I know.” Jon mumbled, kicking off his shoes. “I’m just frustrated. It shouldn’t be this hard! Why doesn’t anything feel right?”

“Because it’s not.” Lois shrugged simply, leading the way into the kitchen. She motioned for Jon to sit, and got out a mug for him. “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but it’s the truth. It might take a while, but – when you know, you know.”

Jon groaned again. “Mom, I love you – but that was literally no help whatsoever.”

“Sometimes, the truth isn’t helpful.” She laughed, pouring him a glass of ice tea. She set it in front of him, and kissed his head. “But if you’re really struggling with this…talk to your father. He’s helped a young hero or two discover a new path before. You’re no different just because you’re his son.” She paused. “In fact, I’m a little surprised Damian hadn’t told you.”

“Told me what?” Jon stomach nearly dropped. “Dad finally helped him decide on a name too?!”

“Of course not. Damian is as stubborn and tight-lipped as his own idiot of a father.” Lois rolled her eyes, but it was fond. “No, his brother – Dick.”

Jon blinked.

“Nightwing was a Kryptonian name. From the Kryptonian legend of Nightwing and Flamebird.” She hummed thoughtfully. “Even if you don’t want you father’s help on a name, ask him about the story. It’s very good.”

Tim found Damian in the cave alone, and his gut immediately told him that something was off. Not wrong, but…not necessarily good.

“Hey.” He offered. “What’s up?”

Damian didn’t move from the computer chair. He looked too much like Bruce in that moment – slouched, hands steepled in front of his face, looking too thoughtful for someone so young.

“I’d like to talk to you.” Damian returned, just as vaguely.

“I’m all ears.”

Damian hesitated a moment. Dragged it to two. Tim was about to speak, to push the conversation along, when Damian sighed. “I…we didn’t do it right last time. And I don’t want to make the same mistake twice. Not here. Not with you.”

“…Damian?” Tim asked, moving towards him. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“No, no. I just.” He sighed. “I wanted to ask your…opinion.”

“On?”

“I think I’ve chosen a new moniker to go by.” Damian murmured. “But I want to make sure I had permission first.”

“Permission?” Tim repeated, bewildered. “I mean…as long it’s not like Red Robin or Red Hood or something, I think you can go by whatever you wa-”

“Nightwing.”

Damian’s voice was so quiet when he said it, Tim almost thought he’d misheard, or that maybe Damian didn’t actually speak at all. That it was maybe a breeze, or a ghost.

But when Damian said nothing else, eyes still not on him, Tim realized he said exactly as he’d heard. “…Really?”

Damian nodded, but seemed to swallow a lump in his throat.

“I mean, those are quite some shoes to fill, especially after all these years, but…” Then Tim paused, replayed what Damian already said. “…Wait, why would you need my permission to use Dick’s old name?”

Damian still didn’t look at him. “Because last time I changed names, I took yours.” He frowned. “I stole yours.”

Tim shrugged. “It was over a decade ago. I know you and I have held a lot of grudges in our lives, but trust me. I’m over that one.”

“And I know Todd would never want Nightwing.” Damian continued as if Tim never spoke. “But…you were next in line. You loved Grayson like I did.” Finally, he looked up, eyes boring into Tim’s. “And you’d deserve it.”

Tim stepped back like someone had punched him in the chest. “Damian…”

“You do, and you know it.” Damian continued. “You’ve fought tooth and nail for respect in this family, for every title you’ve ever carried. You fought for your independence, and have thrived as Red Robin. In a way, you are everything Nightwing embodies, and you deserve the title most.” Damian’s gaze dropped once more. “And I don’t want to take that opportunity from you. Not like I’ve taken everything else from you too.”

Tim just stared.

“He would have chosen you himself. I know it. If he were…” Damian trailed off. Seemed to have to take a moment to compose himself. “…If he were still here.”

Tim lowered his own eyes at the thought. It’d been five years since their beloved older brother died. Despite what the world tried to say, time didn’t heal all wounds, and the loss of Dick Grayson was a wound that seemed almost infected now, especially for Damian.

The world was less without him. Less bright, less kind, less happy – less everything.

Just…less.

After a moment Tim smiled. Picked his head up and moved forward so he could crouch next to the chair, leaning his arms on it. Despite being twenty-three years old, Damian turned his head away so he didn’t have to look at Tim, just like a child.

“I don’t want Nightwing.” Tim said honestly. “I’m happy with where I am and what I’m doing. But I appreciate you asking. I’m…honored, in fact.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome. I guess.” Damian mumbled.

“But I have to say I disagree with you.” Tim leaned his chin on his arms. “Dick wouldn’t have picked me to succeed him. He wouldn’t have picked anyone. But he would have been so proud to see you take it on after him.”

Damian closed his eyes, sucked his lips between his teeth.

“Because, for once, I’ll toot my own horn a little bit. I won’t disagree with you on this one. Maybe I do deserve the Nightwing name.” Tim admitted. “But I’m not the only one.”

Damian didn’t answer, but shook his head.

“You do too, Damian.” Tim reached out and took his hand, squeezing it. “You’ve overcome so much. You’ve done so much. And Dick was proud of you for it until the day he died. I know he was.”

Damian opened his eyes and looked at Tim. The tears immediately fell down his cheeks.

“And he’d be honored, knowing you wanted to follow in his footsteps, and carry on his legacy, for a second time.” Tim chuckled. “Especially after your first words to us when you were a kid was how badly you wanted to be Batman.”

“One day I still will be.” Damian blubbered with a laugh. Tim laughed too.

“I know.” He hummed warmly. “But that was all a long, surprisingly emotionally-charged way to say: while it’s not mine to give, yes you have my permission to become Nightwing.”

Even as his tears continued to fall, Damian stared at Tim for a few more seconds, before leaning forward and, once again to Tim’s surprise, enveloped his older brother in a hug.

“Thank you, Drake.” He whispered. Tim just let his smile widen as he held Damian just as tightly back. “Thank you so much.”

“Tim told me Damian finally picked a new name.” Conner said one morning, as the two of them sat on a rooftop overlooking Metropolis. “…He also mentioned you two might be dating?”

Jon’s eyes widened slightly as he tried to keep his heart rate in check. Damian had told Tim?

“He hasn’t told me about choosing a name.” Jon said instead. “When did this supposedly happen?”

“The other day. Maybe he hasn’t made it official yet.” Conner shrugged. Then he grinned. “Though you’d think he’d tell his boyfriend about it anyway.”

Jon frowned. “We’re not dating.” A hesitation. “Officially.”

“Ooooh.” Conner mocked, scooting closer. “Tell me everything.”

Jon rolled his eyes, but laughed as he pushed Conner’s shoulder. “First off, not your business. And second, there’s nothing to tell? We hang out. We hold hands. We…do things.”

Conner wiggled his eyebrows.

“Stop.” Jon chuckled. “I just…like being with him. Being close to him makes me feel happy. Safe. All that cliché stuff.”

“Has he reciprocated?” Jon nodded. “Then why not official?”

“His choice. I think he feels like he’d be judged for having actual emotions or something.” Jon shrugged. “I also think he feels like he’s…not good enough? Or a bad person, or something, and is hoping I might find someone else before we’re legit.”

“Ouch.”

“It sucks, but…I get it.” Jon sighed. “And he just…has stuff going on. Mentally, I think.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning we started flirting a little bit right before Dick died. So our whole relationship so far, romantically, he’s trying to deal with the loss, with the vacuum that loss created in his family, and growing in his role as a hero.” Jon listed. “He’s stuck in his own head so much that honestly I’m just happy when I can get him to smile some days.”

“That’s sweet.” Conner grinned. “And proof you’re head over heels.”

“I mean…did I ever deny that?” Jon grinned back, but it was sad. Conner’s own smile fell slightly.

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

Jon exhaled a bitter laugh. “That obvious?”

“Does he know?”

“I think so?” Jon thought out loud. “And I think that’s why he thinks himself such a terrible person.”

“Because he doesn’t love you back?”

“No, no. I think he absolutely does.” Jon said confidently. “It’s just like I said – he thinks himself as a bad person, and that I deserve better.”

“That’s…” Conner pursed his lips. “…quite the conundrum.”

“Yeah.” Jon smiled wistfully. “But anyway, the name. Did Tim say what name he chose?”

“Nope.” Conner kicked his feet against the building. “Tim said it was incredibly personal, and he wasn’t the one to share it.”

“Interesting.” Jon muttered. “Wonder what it could be?”

He was twenty, very much an adult, but oh boy, did he feel like a rebellious teenager right now.

After all, how else were you supposed to feel when you and your not-quite-boyfriend were lying almost naked, cuddled up in your parents’ bed?

Somewhere in his mind he was panicking. If – when – they found out, he was doomed. He’d never live it down.

(But at the same time, it was also totally not his fault. Their apartment was closer to downtown than his was, and the room he still had here only had a single bed. There was no way they’d fit. And since his father was in space and his mother in the Philippines, the bed would have just gone to waste being empty, so…)

Though, simultaneously, any fear of repercussions was drowned out by the utter bliss he felt at being cocooned in Damian’s arms, and using his collarbone as a pillow while they watched the nightly news.

Under his ear, he felt Damian’s heartbeat slowing, a clear sign he was falling asleep. So it was the perfect time to ask:

“I hear you picked a new codename.”

Damian stirred a little and hummed, “Yeah.”

“What name did you pick, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Damian hesitated a moment, then whispered, “Promise you won’t laugh.”

“Never.”

“…Nightwing.” Damian answered sheepishly. Quietly, like he wasn’t allowed to say it. “I…decided to carry on Grayson’s legacy.”

Jon turned and looked up at him. Without thinking he cupped Damian’s cheek in his hand. “Oh, Damian, that’s wonderful.” Damian kept his gaze over Jon’s shoulder, face heating up in an embarrassed flush. “He’d love it, he’d be so happy.” He stroked his thumb across Damian’s skin. “I’m so proud of you.”

Damian snorted. “Nothing to be proud of. It took me five years to pick a name someone had already used.”

“For good reason.” Jon countered. “And an homage to a great man.”

Damian allowed himself to look at Jon now. He stared at him for a moment, taking in his face, then carefully took hold of Jon’s wrist, and leaned in for a kiss, which Jon ate up greedily.

After a moment, they separated, and Jon twisted back to stare at the TV, Damian’s arms still tight around him.

“…What about you?” Damian asked softly. “Any ideas?”

“I don’t know. Superdude is sounding better and better every day.” Jon said dryly. “But I guess I haven’t really been thinking about it either. Been focused on some other more important things lately.”

“Oh? Like what? School?”

Jon grinned, kept his eyes on the weather report now lighting up the room.

“You.”

Damian didn’t answer, but Jon felt him gently kiss his temple, and lean their heads together.

“Mom said I should ask my dad.” Jon hummed as he paid for their coffee. “But we haven’t seen each other in a while, and you know more about Krypton and all that stuff than he does, you know?”

“Sure.” Kara smiled, taking her cup from his hand. “But that still doesn’t explain why you’re so interested in some old Kryptonian legend?”

“Just curiosity, mostly.” Jon shrugged. “Dad helped Dick Grayson become Nightwing back in the day, and now that Damian is taking the title on, I figured I should learn a little bit about it myself.”

“To support your future husband?” Kara smirked.

“Stop.” Jon groaned. “I should have never told Conner the truth.”

“I’m just glad to know you’re happy.” Kara squeezed his hand as they walked outside. “And also that I now have a viable reason to beat Damian up.”

“And that reason would be?”

“For the honor of my littlest cousin.” She winked. Jon found himself laughing. “Thanks for walking me back to the office, by the way. I’m sorry we couldn’t have lunch today.”

“I totally understand. I have to get back to campus for class soon anyway.” Jon waved off. “Rain check for a movie night, though?”

“Absolutely. Go buy a lot of tissues, wine and chocolate, because I am in the mood for some tearjerkers.” Kara demanded. “And…Damian is more than welcome to join us, if he’d like.”

“He’d never.” Jon promised as they jogged across a crosswalk. “But he’ll appreciate the invite.”

“Are you just saying that, or would he really?”

“Honestly, he really would.” Jon swore. “He’s trying not to take little things like that for granted anymore. Not since…well. You know.”

Kara frowned. “…I miss him too.”

“Everyone does.” Jon murmured as they stopped outside a building. Some people waved to Kara as they exited and jumped into a taxi nearby. “He was the best of all of us.”

“Give Damian my regards, and a hug for me. Tell him I’m sorry about Dick, if you think it’s appropriate.” Kara murmured as she turned to her purse, and began digging in it. After a moment, she held out a book. It looked old, and pages were misshaped, almost like they’d been gnawed on, or burned. “First, last and only edition.”

Jon took the tome, marveling at the etched green cover, and symbols seemingly floating around the image. But then he frowned. “Kara.” He sighed. “You know my Kryptonian isn’t that good.”

“Well then this will be a great tool to learn.” She smiled, squeezing his bicep. Someone suddenly called Kara from the door. She smiled and waved back before glancing to Jon. “Gotta go, kiddo. It was great seeing you! Tell your pops hi for me!”

She turned, and began to jog away, when Jon called after her. “Kara, wait!”

She did, glancing over her shoulder.

“Give me a quick summary?” He tried with a lopsided grin. “You know, to keep me interested?”

Kara twisted her lips in thought, then smiled. “Nightwing and Flamebird always find each other in the end.”

She took a sip of her coffee and disappeared into her office.

By two o’clock in the morning that very night, Jon sat at the desk in his apartment, tears pouring down his face.

The legend was magical, breathtaking, awe-inspiring…but heartbreaking. The most heartbreaking thing he’d ever read.

But it also made him realize exactly what he needed to do. Exactly what his future was.

Exactly who his future was.

Without thinking, he wiped the tears from his eyes, and laughed as he stood, turning towards his window.

It would be a quick flight to Gotham, and surely Alfred was still awake at this hour.

Damian stood on the top of Wayne Tower, staring at the city below him. The city he’d come to think of as home. The city that was…his.

He felt weird without the cape, without the hood. Was still getting used to the tight, plain bodysuit. The lighter armour. The dip of red across his chest.

He could take Grayson’s name, but he could never take his colors. That blue was too pure. Damian refused to taint it.

He inhaled and held his breath, then exhaled slowly. It was his first night in his new gear – would the villains know who he was? Would they mock him? Could he live up to his brother’s standards? Would he honor his memory?

“Damn.” He heard off to his side. “You look good.”

Damian glanced over, and found himself at a loss for words. The other man was in a similarly simple bodysuit, though instead of black, it was a deep blue. Opposite of the downward red arrow on Damian’s chest, the bright, near-blinding golden arrow on the other pointed upwards, almost looking like a phoenix rising from the ashes.

Damian stared for a moment, taking it in, before meeting Jon’s eyes. “This is new.”

“You like?” Jon asked, practically shy. “Alfred helped me make it.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm.” Jon stepped forwards. His boots, which matched the shimmering yellow on his chest, seemed to flicker as he walked, like fire. “I mean, he helped make yours, and it’s only natural our designs match a little bit.”

“Why would they need to match?” Damian asked. Then he squinted. “Jonathan Kent, have you chosen a new moniker?”

“I did indeed.” Jon grinned. “Surely Dick told you how he got his name.”

“He did.”

“Did he tell you the story behind it?”

“He did not. But I’ve heard of it.” Damian found his voice going quieter, his throat drying up. “Your father told me, I believe.”

“Mhm.” Jon reached out, gently taking Damian’s hand in his, raising it between them. “And do you remember how it goes?”

Damian blinked, then smiled. “Refresh my memory.”

“Nightwing can’t exist without Flamebird.” Jon smirked. He pressed his lips to Damian’s knuckles. “And no matter the universe, no matter the situation, they always find each other in the end.”

“…Well, Flamebird.” Damian whispered softly. “I’m glad you found me.”

“I’m glad you found me too.” Jon stood back up. “Ready for our first official patrol in the new digs? Say goodbye to Robin and Superboy forever?”

“Do you want to call it our first official patrol?” Damian let his grin widen. “Or perhaps our first official date?”

Jon gaped at him, eyes wide and hopeful. “For real?”

“For real.” Damian promised. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting-”

The words were barely out of his mouth before Jon surged forward, wrapping him in his arms and lifting him off the tower’s ledge as he smashed their mouths together. Damian let his surprise linger for only a second, before grabbing both sides of Jon’s head and returning the gesture.

The moment felt like it lasted both an eternity and no longer than a blink. When they parted, they were both out of breath, and trembling from the emotional adrenaline.

“Flamebird.” Damian breathed as Jon lowered him, his hands still on Jon’s face. “I think I like it.”

“Good. Because I didn’t have any backups.” Jon chuckled.

“It suits you, I think.” Damian smiled.

“Nightwing suits you just as well.” Jon countered. “…Dick would be so proud.”

Damian just lowered his gaze, but allowed himself to keep smiling.

“…Well.” Damian exhaled, looking out into the city. “Shall we?”

Jon bowed, holding his arm out. “After you, ‘Wing.”

Damian laughed and turned, stepping off the building and allowing himself to freefall. “Follow me, ‘Bird.”

Jon smiled, and jumped right after him.

#jon kent #Damian Wayne #jondami #Tim Drake #conner kent #kara zor-el #clark kent #Lois Lane

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cdelphiki · 3 years

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That looks like a cute "one shot." As much as I adore Damian the Animal Lover, everyone of those kids could use the unconditional affection of a pet. Can't wait to see more of the "one shot" and Jason's reaction.

:D thanks! Originally I was going to give Jason a dog in Precedent, to help him feel safe and protected in Bruce’s house. 😭 Because Ace helped him quite a lot and Bruce saw that and wanted to give Jason his own dog, since Ace was pretty attached to Damian. But then that story didn’t go the way I wanted and the dog ended up not being needed, so I threw it all into a one shot idea and left it. I think he’ll get that puppy later on in the pennyverse, now. If I ever get my butt in gear and keep writing the ‘a burnt child’ one shot series, following him and his fear of thunderstorms. 😢

But anyway, I was reading Keeping Calm and Clearly Terrorized and I was like half way through it, when he kept having such sweet moments with Titus I was like I WANNA WRITE THAT HIM GETTING HIS PUPPY AS A ONESHOT and now I am. (also highly recommend that fic if y’all haven’t read it.)

AND IT IS A ONE SHOT OKAY? IT’S GOING TO END WITH ALFRED MEETING THE DOG AND BEING LIKE ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME BRUCE WHY DO YOU KEEP BRINGING STRAYS HOME??? but, you know, in proper british butler speak. But then Jason is all cute about it and Alfred melts and says fine but the dog can’t be in the kitchen, and then it’s over. So yes, it’s a one shot. 😂

#im not yelling at you please dont' take it like that i swear #❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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gacuseni · 3 years

Text

The last three hours had been not interesting. Batman and Robin were during their daily, or nightly patrol. There was nothing special about it, it had been pretty old fashioned. There had been two attempts of robbery, a minor gangster fight, and one attempt of kidnapping. It wasn't exactly too calm to put Batman or Robin nervous, but it was calm enough for a normal patrol in Gotham.

Batman had never liked the quiet though. And Robin had learnt from his father, he had a bad feeling about it, a feeling he couldn't quite name, but he had a feeling as if someone had could happen at any moment if they lowered their guard.

And they were right. As Robin was talking to the owner of the store they had just saved from a couple of armed guys, Batman heard a noice coming from the back alley, something had fell, at first he thought it could be a stray cat messing around, but he still got closer just to check.

"You better hurry! We don't have all day!"

Batman opened his eyes, he knew that voice, Harley had escaped a couple of months ago from Arkham, but she had gone quiet ever since. What was she doing there?

Robin looked at his father, he said something else to the owner of the shop and quietly followed him to the alley, he was about to ask, but his father make him a sign to keep quiet.

Aside from Harley, there were also some men on the alley. Each one of them was carrying a box and placing them inside a truck, Harley was looking at them impatiently. When the last one man arrived, he almost dropped the box as he placed it.

"Careful!!! We don't want to break it, don't we?" Harley said. And then she kicked the man in the chest making him fall.

The man tried to protect himself as he fell to the ground and covered himself with his arms.

For some reason Harley was apparently not in the mood to punch people, or she was really on a rush to arrive to wherever she was taking the boxes on the truck.

She looked around to check if someone else was following, she didn't notice the couple of bats that were looking at her from the other side of the alley.

Harley looked at the man on the floor. "That's what I thought, now get on the truck!!" The man, who was apparently also the driver followed her orders quickly and got to the driver's seat before the rest got inside and they departed to some place in Gotham.

Batman and Robin hid themselves as the truck exited the alley.

They looked at each other, as is for a fraction of second they had a mental conversation, they already knew what the other was going to do, both nodded before they started following the truck through Gotham's rooftops.

Batman informed to Oracle over the comms that they were following Harley, who was more likely working with the Joker, and that the rest of the bats on patrol should be alert in case they needed backup.

***

After following the truck through half of Gotham they arrived to the decks, more specifically to an abandoned warehouse. Damian was not surprised, the Joker and the rest of criminals should really get another creepy location to do their evil plans. But again, this was Gotham, there were more warehouses than McDonald's in the city.

There was a small window on the ceiling that Batman and Robin used to see what was going on. Joker was already in the warehouse, waiting for the truck.

He smiled with that creepy smile he always had on his face as Harley got out of the truck.

There was too much noice inside and outside to hear clearly what was going on, but Robin knew the couple was talking about the boxes, while they were watching from the hidden window in the corner of the roof.

Robin was ready to jump in the moment it was needed, his father on the other side was observing, analyzing the boxes that the men were opening.

"Hm" he made that noice he used so much as both Batman and Bruce. "They look like materials for his gas. There is also some new stuff, he might be changing the formula." He said through the comms. He then looked at his son, who was not really paying attention to him, but instead was about to jump through the window. "Robin, no. It can be dangerous, you will have to wait here until I say so."

Robin looked at his father, who was back at looking at the boxes, he crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, just waiting for some orders. The night had been boring for him, and now that it started to get interesting, he was ordered to wait in there.

Batman was about to go inside when Joker and Harley stopped talking after one of the men had approached the Joker and said something to his ear. Joker nodded and then looked at Harley.

"Bring her here." The Joker ordered to Harley.

Harley nodded with a smile, she left and returned a couple of minutes later with a woman around her mid or late thirties, who was cried on the floor after Harley pushed her.

"No! Please! No! Let me go home!! Please! I have a family!" She was shaking her head as she trembled, tears falling down her face. Robin felt anger through his body as the woman continued pleading for her life and safety. Talking about her family and her home. She was just an innocent woman.

Batman noticed how tense his partner was, he was also not happy about this, but he covered it better than his son.

The Joker's smile was getting bigger and bigger as the woman cried and pleaded. At some point Robin was sure it couldn't get any bigger.

As Harley approached the woman ready to beat her with her bat, Robin decided it was finally time to do something. Orders be damned, so he started moving toward the window.

Batman glared at him, but Robin ignored his father, while he kept approaching to the window. Hiding in the shadows without anyone noticing him.

And finally, he jumped to fight the men.

"Robin, no!" He could hear his father yelling at him, but he ignored him, again. He could hear the exasperated sigh his father gave, he didn't looked back, but he could perfectly visualize his father's frown under the cowl, pinching his nose.

He landed along the shattered glass, making a noisy entrance that directed the attention to him and not the woman. Good, he thought.

"Oh look the little bird is here." Harley spoke, she glared at the men behind her. "What are you waiting for? Go get him!"

Robin took the first two men down, leaving them unconscious in the floor. They were sloppy and useless, he wasn't surprised.

Robin smirked at Harley as another couple of men attacked him and he took them down easily.

"Ugh!! Why can't nobody do something right?!" She screamed, then she looked at other four men "What are you people looking at?! Do something! Or are you waiting for a lollipop?! You are absolutely useless!"

The four men quickly ran towards Robin.

He dodged the first two men easily, but as he was about to punish one of the men, he looked at his left where he saw the Joker about to hit the woman with a crowbar, and Robin got distracted.

He had let his guard down, and never noticed that one of the men had a knife. A knife he used to stab him on his right leg, as the other man hit him on the face.

He was about to get another hit when a dark shadow landed in front of him, taking down the man who had stabbed him.

"Robin!" Batman yelled to his son, as he continued to take down the men. Robin had to admit they were at least brave, or very stupid, as they continued to get up and keep fighting them. "What the hell we're you thinking?! I told you to wait!"

Robin punched one of the men on his stomach as he looked at the woman being hit by the Joker, who had started laughing. Ugh, he really hated that laugh, it always got on his nerves.

"Less talking more acting, you can scold me later father."

Robin quickly ran towards the Joker, who was about to hit the woman once again, she was half reacting by now, Robin wasn't sure if it was because of her injuries or some sort of shock.

He took some speed before he make a flip and he kicked the creepy clown on the face, as he yelled to the woman to move, giving her time to react and get away from the clown. Batman helped her get out of the warehouse quickly.

Robin was supposed to follow Batman and the woman to the outside, but when he was halfway there, Harley grabbed his cape and tossed him to the men who restrained his arms.

He looked at the door, Batman was probably outside by now and would soon realize Robin hadn't got out yet.

Robin tried to kick one of the men grabbing him, but he kicked him first on his stab wound, making him hiss in pain.

Joker looked at him, and finally proved Robin wrong.

His smile could get bigger. And let me tell you, it was not a pleasant image. Damian wished he could forget it.

"Oh look, the little birdie wants to take someone's place."

"Shut the fuck up" Robin was able to kick the Joker on the stomach, but when he was about to punish him again, was hit on his use and fell to the ground.

He turned around to look what was going on, Harley had a grin on her face as she got in position to hit him again. With the crowbar Joker had been using.

"I think the little kid wants more! So fun he could join us in our play date! Don't you think pudding?" She exclaimed as she hit Robin repeatedly, her voice getting angrier as her hits were getting harder.

Robin grunted in pain as he tried to stand up, just as the Joker kicked him to the floor. He used the moment Joker started laughing to kick him on his legs, taking his to the ground and standing up.

He didn't noticed when Harley had got behind his back and was about to hit him with the crowbar until he heard a noise similar to a punch. When he turned back he saw his father was back, and was fighting with Harley, taking her away from him and starting their own fight.

And here is the thing. Robin might be a trained soldier. Damian may have trained his entire life ever since he was born and was able walk and grab a sword.

But the Joker was a hard opponent in a one vs one fight, even to Batman. So it was even harder for Robin, specially with him being injured.

That didn't stopped him, Robin continued to fight the Joker, but he was getting tired, his leg was hurting a lot, the stab wound felt like fire on his leg, he was sure a part of the knife was still in there, and he also probably had a broken nose because it wouldn't stop bleeding, and a small concussion aside with some broken ribs.

The point is, odds weren't good for him, is his father didn't take Harley down soon and helped him, he wasn't sure how long he could keep going.

And the Joker didn't looked like he was getting tired, or as if he was going to get tired at some point soon, or at least soon enough for Robin to get away from him.

Robin tried to jump to avoid a low hit, but when he did his leg starting hurting a lot, causing him to loose balance.

The Joker used this to grab his arm and twisted it in an unnatural way, making Robin to hear the crack of his bone, breaking in two or maybe more parts.

Robin cried in pain. This made the Joker laugh, he was finally getting what he wanted.

The joker grabbed the crowbar that had fell a few inches away from them, and hit Robin on his head. Hard.

He may had hit him more than once, that was very possible. But after that first hit everything had become blurry for Robin, he couldn't focus well and he couldn't keep his balance. He shook his head as he tried to focus and keep fighting. Every time it was getting harder, but he needed to, he needed to-

"ROBIN!"

Robin looked around, someone had called him right? But they had said Robin...Damian knew that a Robin was a bird, his name was Damian wasn't it? Why would someone call him as a bird?

He lost his train of thought, tried to focus on what he was doing, he was on the floor? He didn't really knew, but everything was too dizzy, and he was getting too tired to think, his head hurt, his leg hurt, his arm hurt, everything pretty much hurt and he couldn't remember why.

There was this laughing he could hear distantly, Damian didn't liked it, he wanted it to stop, but he could also hear another voice, and he knew that voice, that voice knew him too right?

While Robin had been fighting against the Joker, Batman had tried his best to get rid of Harley, and get as fast as possible to his son, he knew he was tough, but Jason had also been though and wasn't able to get away from the Joker.

He had already called Oracle and contacted the rest, he just hoped they could arrive soon.

Batman looked at his left, Robin was struggling, he knew it. Joker was hitting him and laughing, and Batman just saw red.

He was finally able to finish the fight, punching Harley so hard she fell unconscious to the floor.

As he turned again to his left, Robin was barely conscious, laying on the ground. Joker had seen how he knocked out Harley, and probably left him there.

"Robin!" He called his son, trying to make him stay awake. "Hang on, hang on." He said as he grabbed his son.

He looked to the place where he had left Harley, she was not there anymore. Batman didn't cared about her, Robin was hurt, and badly.

"Ba bye Batsy! See ya!!" The Joker said through a speaker that had been left in the warehouse. But Bruce was too busy and too worried to get away with Damian, and then get him help as fast as possible.

"Batman to Agent A, I need the batmobile ASAP, Robin injured, what's the ETA?"

Alfred had said something about less than ten minutes and asked Robin's state. Batman was about to answer when Damian talked.

"F-Father?"

"Yes Damian?"

"I-I'm tired..."

"I know you are, but can you please, just stay awake? Can you do that? Just until we get to the med bay and Agent A checks on you, you will rest then." Bruce told his son.

Damian lightly nodded his head, but still his eyes were closing and were not focusing anymore, that was not a good sign, and Damian shouldn't sleep with a concussion before he gets checked.

Bruce had to take him out of there now. Damian was loosing blood, and he was loosing him.

He looked around for the exit, Joker had blocked the main entrance and Bruce wasn't sure he couldn't get them both out through the window with his hook.

Then he heard it.

A bomb.

There was a fucking bomb in the warehouse.

Bruce quickly searched for it with the look.

'Oh shit...please no' He thought.

There were just a few seconds left.

He knew he couldn't get Damian away that fast in his condition. But he needed to try, he took out his grappling hook and started taking them both out, they could make it out, they still had time to at least get to the roof.

Bruce then made the mistake to look back at the bomb.

Three seconds left.

There was no way they could make it out.

Two seconds left.

Bruce hugged Damian in a way to protect his son from the explosion and the impact. Damian curled himself and grabbed his cowl.

One second left.

He was just hopping that he could take most of the impact, as he wasn't sure if Damian would survive it. He closed his eyes and grabbed his son as hard as he could.

BOOOOM

They both were sent away flying, Bruce couldn't protect Damian from more than some rocks and things that were sent flying away.

At some point he momentarily lost consciousness on the air, everything was going in slow motion, and when he gained again he realized his grip on Damian wasn't as hard as he thought, and his son's body slipped away through his fingers.

Bruce remembers how they were both smashed into a wall. Damian hit the wall with his head, loosing completely conscience.

And then Bruce got lost in the darkness as well.

Continue reading in Ao3

#damian wayne #Damian Wayne centric #batfam #this is the first chapter look at the rest in Ao3 #yes I am spamming in my blog even tho nobody will probably see this but idc

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whumpbby · 4 years

Text

smells-like-ink-and-fire replied to your post “<p>Australian instinct not to touch octopuses is warring with the urge...”

Oh to see Bruce's reaction. I'm sensing a mild heart attack

Bruce certainly had a mild stroke.

He was just about ready to go back to his quarters for the night, filling out the last bits of paperwork, gathering his empty coffee mugs (Alfred always shook his head at B whenever the mugs started to pile up) and feeling every bot of his age... when the noise from the corridor drew his attention a moment before the door to his office burst open to reveal a red-faced intern begging Bruce to come down to the bay quick, please, you have to see this!!!

So, prepared for everything, Bruce followed the intern at a run, because the last time they’ve had this sort of commotion, the big holding tank was cracking and they needed to act fast.

However, when he stepped into the bay - a part of the centre open to the ocean, with a ramp leading into the water - he stopped and for a few good blinks didn’t know what he was looking at. There was Dick, because of course Dick was in the centre of whatever was happening, and there was Tim who was screaming something at him, and there were a dozen of the staff positioned away from the water, staring at Dick who was trying to haul a body up the ramp... a mer body. A excessively bleeding mer body.

And then Bruce’s brain decided to finally notice that what he thought was a trail of blood, was in fact the rest of the body of the creature - not a mer, not even close.

His first reaction wasn’t helpful at all.

“Dick, what the hell are you doing?!”

Wasn’t his proudest moment, that. Dick ignored it, thankfully.

“B, help me! He’s wounded and I need...!” He tripped and fell into the water along with the octomer, both slipping back down the ramp. “Fuck! Tim, come on, help me!”

“Don’t come near it!” Bruce ordered.

“B, come on! He’s hurt!”

God, that’s what he got for adopting the bright, friendly kid eighteen years ago - he couldn’t be the dad whose children brought home stray kittens or puppies, could he? No, his son brought them a goddamn eldritch beast.

“Leave it in the water,” Bruce spoke over the raising noise, toeing his shoes off and walking into the water. “We don’t know if it cans survive out of it. We’ll use floating stretchers to support it. Tim, get me the first aid box. Julia, send a message to Clark, we need his expertise!”

Together with Dick, they’ve hauled the octomer onto the floating frame until the creature was stable and they could look at the wound. It was surprisingly docile, probably due to blood loss, it was just staring ahead and twitching weakly when touched. And there was an octopus wound around its neck.

“What the hell? Is that...?”

“Yep,” Dick answered. “I’m about 99% sure it’s Robin. And call me crazy, but I am also pretty sure it was the one to bring the big guy here.”

“Why would it do that?”

“Dunno, but we’ve helped the little fella, right? It probably thought we can help the big one, too.”

That was quite crazy, yes, but Bruce’s closest friend had fins and a tail, so he wasn’t in a place to doubt possible intentions of an octopus. When it was all over, he was going to have a drink and a bit of a breakdown, because here he was, handling a damn cryptid that might have, or might have not, bee the one who saved his son’s life a few months ago...

The cryptid had to take priority. The wound on it’s side was deep and gory, as if something took a chunk out of it with its teeth. A shark? Possibly. Couldn’t have been a big one, the wound was too narrow. And a shark that small would be surely dealt with before it got a chance to attack...

Bruce carefully touched the octo’s mouth and pushed its lips apart to see two rows of nightmare-fuel teeth.

“What are you doing?” Dick was confused.

“Doesn’t look like a shark bite.” Bruce, always on the case, mused. “In-fighting?” Usual mer were omnivores, but they didn’t have a habit of taking chunks out of each other. However, if there was another octomer in the area...

“Territorial dispute, you think?”

“Maybe.”

By that time Tim had returned with the first aid kit and got to work at tending the wound. Tim was their first-aider when it came to mer, because his marine research partner was a reckless brat that tended to appear in the centre with a wound of some sort more often than not. Tim had experience with sewing up tails.

“This is so creepy,” the young man in question muttered while threading a needle. “The skin texture is... it feels like skin. If I faint, don’t let me drown.”

“Don’t worry Timmy.”

Of course, they didn’t forget that they were dealing with a wild and unpredictable creature. The octomer was strapped to the raft and Bruce had an eye on his movements, he also got two researchers to stand close by with tranq guns in case they were needed. He also had another technician film the whole encounter, because research. When Tim was sewing whatever he could of the wound, Bruce took some samples - a bit of a flesh hanging from the wound, a lock of hair, a saliva swab...

“B, really?”

“The more we know, the better prepared we’ll be when something goes wrong, Dick. How are the vitals?”

They really didn’t have a baseline for it, but the mammal-like mer weren’t that different from humans when it came to the basics, so they could only hope the octomer were similar in that respect - this one had nipples and a bellybutton, so the’re probably was a connection with mammals somewhere down its genetic tree...

“Heartbeat’s weak, but stable for now.” Dick recited with a worried frown. “We could try a transfusion, but...”

But they didn’t have a clue what kind of blood wouldn’t make the matters worse. Only after the samples were processed, they’ll know for sure. The octomer was somewhat conscious, because it kept shifting under their hands, the arms underwater were twisting around themselves inside of the net spun around them - either from pain or fear. Bruce considered sedation, but discarded the idea, as long as it moved they knew it was alive and not crashing.

Another tense half an hour passed with no one knowing what to actually do, but not wanting to leave the bay in case something happened. Bruce grilled Dick on the details of the situation that led them there while Tim worked quietly and the technicians took notes and the red-bellied octopus was swimming around them in a manner that could only be called fretful.

At a point Dick reached for it and it wound around his free hand. “It’s okay, kid, he’s going to be okay,” he spoke softly to the animal. “You did good bringing him here, he’ll get help.”

Bruce bit down on a smile tingling in the corners of his lips, because he loved his son with all he had and this was one of the reasons why. The boy was kind to every creature than needed it, regardless if it understood or not.

And he had a strange feeling that Robin somehow did understand.

#smells-like-ink-and-fire #headcanon #octo!jay

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windona · 4 years

Note

Prompting Night: (DC/ML crossover?) Selena Kyle is vacationing in Paris, and she learns about Ladybug and Chat Noir. Selena suddenly realizes why Bruce can't resist collecting kids when she sees/meets Chat. Such an adorable kitten, but so lonely...

Really, it had just been a little light thieving. She was being paid to liberate a few artifacts from a private collector and bring them home to Algeria, so it was a just heist. But while scoping out her target, she noticed Paris’ heroes.

Of course she had known about Ladybug and Chat Noir. She did her research, and made a note to time her heist with an akuma attack. But knowing about something cannot provoke the same feeling as seeing something.

It was an akuma attack, but Selina knew enough to stay out of the way unless she was really needed. She kept her eyes on the heroes, and watched as Chat Noir made a joke that had Ladybug’s eyes roll even as a small grin graced the girl’s lips.

The boy’s ears swiveled and his tail twitched, even though they seemed to be costume pieces. He then went to do as his lady requested.

The thoughts came unbidden. Fur in good health, being fed a nutritious diet but not enough for energetic lifestyle. Perhaps incorporate some salmon as a treat?

She shook her head as she avoided a random blast from the akuma, and kept her eyes on the battle. What was she thinking, Chat Noir wasn’t a stray kitty.

He leaned over to Ladybug and made some cheeky comment before following the plan. Kitty seemed attention starved, needed more enrichment, perhaps wasn’t played with enough...

Selina cursed. That was it. She was adopting him.

#prompting night #Selina Kyle #Chat Noir #Miraculous Ladybug #Catwoman #Selina's more used to cats than kids #here's a secret Selina understands Bruce's adopting tendencies #because she's like that with cats #afewnovelideas

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 4 years

Text

Intruder (It’s The Avengers)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

ONE SHOT

Warnings: mention of ghosts and intruders. No Ghosts were harmed in the making of this fic though I’m pretty sure the ones in my room were shocked at this piece of fic. I can feel them scrunching their nose at me right now.

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

One Shot: You are alone at home and hear a noise...

Almost forgot to mention the reason for this one-shot. (Belated) Happy birthday @nygmobblepot-trash

Word Count: I cannot believe myself and my desk. All this time its been holding stuff when it could have been helping me write stories like throwing cash money at respected strippers in the da club. Yup, my readers are those lovely strippers and their comments and love are their services for me. Does this make sense?

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

Somewhere in the dark, a pair of eyes watched you reading some book in the library, sitting under that one bulb illuminating the desk where you sat alone, lost in those yellow pages. Your one hand kept over the book while the other rested on your face, your little finger playing along your lips.

Click.

A sound came from some unknown source. You inhaled a lungful, never blinking away.

Click-click.

You blinked and looked up, turning to see outside the door of the library. Nothing but darkness said hello back. Not thinking much about it you went back to the book, taking your little finger under your teeth and leaning back in the chair on an angle.

Click.

Click-click.

This time your ears were sharp, your head tilting quickly in the direction of the sound. Straining your auditory nerves, you kept looking in the direction of the door for a good while.

Click-click.

That's it. I'm checking it out.

Old experiences and a lot of late-night crime and horror documentaries had taught you to be discreet when it came to weird noises of the night. But what you figured out yourself was that a book would not be the most suitable weapon against whatever was lurking out there. So, picking up Rhodey's trophy kept in the showcases of all the awards collected by the Avengers over time, you pushed your slippers over to the carpeted floor while slowly moving out of the warm space.

The clicking sound now echoed through the compound. So did the sound of ducks quacking in the pond outside; quite possibly at the stray cat that you'd brought home once and tried to hide from Tony. Ultimately you had to leave it outside when it scratched Vision for turning off his body heat because little Mew Mew didn't want to get up from his lap. In Vision’s defence, he’d lost a bet against Pietro and had been dared to that.

The fact that everyone else was out of town was not helping with every little tinker of noise you were hearing or your mind was making up.

Friday. I still have Friday. She'd take care of me if there was an intruder, right?

You wanted to ask her so bad. But the fear giving away your location in the dark was too much of a risk right now.

Maybe it's a mouse.

Click click click.

Yeah, it's just a mouse looking for some chee-

A cold chuckle came from the lounge along with a faint glow, freezing you in the open corridor that led to Bruce and Tony's lab. A crack of lightning lit up everything around you before the thunder rumbled, sending jolts to your already weak heart that saw a figure pass lounge- from the kitchenette towards the dorms- with a candle in its hands.

Had you not forcefully been made to exercise to strengthen your muscles you could've sworn you might have peed right there out of sheer fright.

There's someone out there. THERE'S SOMEONE IN THE FREAKING LOUNGE!!! HOLY FUCKING SHIT! OH MY GAAAHHHDD!! SHIT SHIT SHIT SH- Wait. If there was an intruder Friday would have warned me right? But she didn't say anything. *Gasp* Did they-did they kill Friday?!

Queue lightning and thunder!

Oh my G-no no no I'm sure Friday's alright. Oh God oh God oh God oh God! Okay okay okay breathe. Yes, breeeeeathe. Good. Good. Now, if it wasn't an intruder and Friday is okay does that mean it's a ghost?

Just when all those thoughts were running inside your head like a freight train, a figure in the shadows lingered behind you, getting closer by the second at an incredibly slow pace.

Oh FUCK WE HAVE A GHOST IN THE COMPOUND!

The figure in the dark behind you was nearly over your shoulder when you felt your hair rise in anticipation of the presence behind you. And like any bad horror movie, your reflex worked to turn you around with the trophy pointed outwards at...nothing.

N-no one's there. Okay, I'm clearly creeping myself out. What if...w-what if it's a friendly ghost. What if it's a Casper? I'm sure we can check that out, right? You asked your inner voice.

Do you want to die? 'Cause that's exactly how you die, came the reply.

Oh, come on! We can't possibly hide from a ghost anyways. And I'm sure Mr Stark has equipped the compound with something against ghosts. Hopefully.

Your inner voice chuckled.

What is he? A daddy of fourteen kids?

...dude.

Yeah, I know the answer to that question. My bad, she shrugged.

A door creaked somewhere in the dorms, bringing you back to reality.

Maybe we should check it out, your inner voice suggested, making you question its sanity.

Aren't you supposed to protect me against danger?

Ay, she sharply pointed at you, I'm also supposed to satiate your curiosity. So, this time the cat might just, I don't know, die.

Wow, you are a nasty one, you implied at your inner voice.

It's ookay, she cooed, you can call me a whiney whore. We both know who is the only one working whenever we see someone that bedazzles you.

Snorting at her, you made your way towards the lounge.

Friday isn't even lighting up the corridors.

The distant roar of thunder was unsettling and the patter of raindrops over the glass part of the roofs and walls did not help when you strained your ears for the slightest of discord.

From the edge of the doorway, the kitchenette seemed empty under that faint blue hue of lights under the slabs that lit up for the nightcrawlers looking for water in the wee hours of the night or early mornings. Many times a couple of them have scared each other for looking like ghosts under that dull blue glow.

The sofas were vacant as well, painted in colours being thrown in their direction from the big screen that you very well remember turning off the moment Steve had dragged a very reluctant Scott and Bucky out and not letting them watch the last fifteen minutes of The Witcher finale.

Maybe I didn't turn it off.

Maybe the ghost likes Geralt of Rivia, your inner voice called out. Or Yennefer, if they're adventurous.

Thump!

You jumped where you stood, the grip on that trophy tight. The noise had come from the dorms followed by a low grunt.

Casper doesn't grunt like an a-an angry demon.

The sweat collecting on your back was now making a trail down your spine, adding a chill when the cold wind brushed itself against you, coming from a door left unlocked or a window left open.

You know what, you breathed in, fuck this. If this is how I die, I'll at least be haunting my own family.

You started walking silently in the lounge, turning to walk towards the dorms where light filtered out through a partially opened door.

What if it's not a ghost, your inner voice tilted her metaphorical head in innocence, what if it's an intruder. A man at that.

You stopped five feet short of that door, everything going blank at the worst words your insides could've have spoken.

I...should hide then. Right?

You were about to turn around when you heard muffled footsteps come from the end of the corridor and the doorknob to Scott's door suddenly twist to be opened with a ghastly creak.

Cursing in a muted rhythm, you dashed inside the very room you were trying to avoid- which was your own.

Two huge strides and you were skidding on the other side of the bed, clearly missing the candles kept on a table right in the centre of your room. Wait what, your adrenaline-induced brain shot itself out to bring back the frames you missed.

Before the ten thousand four hundred and seventy-one theories could take a better form inside your head, the door to your room let out a groan, stopping your heart.

You laid yourself on your stomach to be as much out of the view of the intruder as you could.

The door clicked close. Footsteps walked away from it towards the centre. A sigh followed.

It is an intruder.

Your veins wanted to freeze over. Your heart was already shouting 'NOPE' and your inside wanted to come out.

A ruffle made you slide a little to peek from the corner of the bedside. A figure stood with its back to you in a black trenchcoat, unbuttoning the fabric tortured by the rain.

He's distracted, your inner voice shouted from your shoulder, now's our chance.

On your knees, you stepped out, positioning yourself low right behind him.

Gloved hands brought the cap of the trenchcoat down before going for the shoulder shrug to remove it.

Now!

Raising your weapon of choice over your head, you aimed for the loose strands of raven hair that suddenly were turning away to bring forth green eyes watching you in horror as cold pale hands blocked your attack- but not your rage-filled shriek- and forced you halfway over the bed.

"What in the hell are you doing?"

Loki's hands still held you down, his wet strands gracing your fear-burned cheeks with water droplets.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?! You are supposed to be out on a mission with the rest right now?!"

Your voice shook but the anger you were feeling could be seen in your eyes by the God.

"Leave that," Loki commanded, pointing to the trophy still in your hands.

"No!" you spat back. You couldn't. The shock had frozen your hold.

"I said leave it."

"No!!"

"Were you really going to use it on me?"

"Of course I was going to use it on you!" you scoffed and raised the fiery embers just a smidge in your tone. "I was going for the spot and wanted to make sure you were shivering on your knees when I was done."

"Oh my God," a tired voice came from outside your door, making you both dilute the confusion and fire to look in that direction.

"I go out for five minutes to find ribbons and flowers and this is what I get back to. Give me a fucking break!"

You furrowed your brows at the door.

"Is...is that-"

"Yeah," Loki answered, never taking his eyes off the door, which clicked open with an annoyed Clint entering the space.

"Why do you guys have to talk like that during normal stuff," he mumbled, closing the door, "do you know how many times you've given me a heart atta-"

He stopped short. His eyes absorbing you lying halfway on the bed with Loki over you, his hands wrapped around yours, keeping your arms over your head while his legs locked yours in place. What was worse for the man was you looking at him with suspicion.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!"

"She tried to blow me."

Clint's eyes went three times wider, his jaw on the verge of falling.

"You were supposed to be out! I thought you were an intruder, you idiot!!"

Clint's hand came up as a sign to apply the breaks at this entire conversation.

"You thought he was an intr-oh ohh OH!!! Okay." He finally breathed, trying to feel his heart by placing his hand on his chest. "It's okay. It's okay."

"Now, am I an intruder?" He asked you, his eyes going soft, his hold loose.

"...no," you replied softly, letting go of the hold on the trophy.

Placing his knee on the edge of the bed, he pushed himself up, bringing you with him by your hand.

"Why didn't you guys tell me you were here? I nearly shat my pants!"

Loki and Clint exchanged a look, clearly hurting you for not knowing what was going on.

Clint sighed, lowering his head.

"Well, you weren't supposed to know till the next-" Loki looked down at the watch on his wrist- "twenty minutes. We were supposed to take you somewhere."

"Where? And why?"

Loki stepped aside to show you a small mountain of gift-wrapped boxes kept on the table in the middle with a balloon tied to the one at the top- the floating green thing spelling out a very obvious greeting.

Loki smiled at the unadulterated shock rushing over your face as your eyes grew wide and a muted gasp left your parted lips.

"Happy birthday."

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jasontoddiefor · 4 years

Text

Sunday Batfam Fanfic Recs!

Today I got some painful fanfics for you! 27 ones to be precise! Have fun! Cry a lot and leave these authors many tearful comments!

I’m a little busy right now, which is why I didn’t do any fanfic rec lists in the last weeks, but I’m trying to get back on schedule!

Title: (re)incarnation Summary: "Shut up," one of the men hissed. "Do you want a beating, brat?" "No," Dick said. "But maybe I deserve one. I mean, you did just shoot a kid like he deserved it. How should I know what I deserve?" "Shut up, or you might just end up deserving one," the other guy snapped. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16044062

Title: Anathema Summary: When a new crime lord in Gotham gets the upper hand, Red Hood and Batman are dealt crippling blows. When faced with near death and an inability to hide behind their masks in the weeks after, Jason and Bruce have to deal with some old haunts between them. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18604273

Title: An Act of Mercy Summary: "You're gonna be okay," Tim keeps saying. "I'm here. We're almost home. You're gonna be okay." Or, that time Bruce gets hit with Fear Toxin. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19036840

Title: Break Summary: In which Jason is dead and Dick has reached his breaking point. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18496762

Title: Frightening but not afraid Summary: When the family is hit by a new strain of fear toxin, safety is in numbers. Unfortunately, three members of the flock are still out there, afraid and alone. Bruce may not be the best at comforting his children, but apparently, he can let his wings do the talking Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20120557

Title: goodnight, gotham Summary: In the wake of shooting penguin, Jason Todd's world is torn to shreds. And perhaps found again. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16572116

Title: I survived (but I paid for it) Summary: sometimes, the only way to survive is to go numb. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20418752

Title: I’m in paradise with Dad Summary: Jason dies in Bruce's arms rather than before he gets there. It messes some things (and people) up Link: https://archiveofourown.org/series/711570

Title: I’m just fine Summary: After rescuing a group of children (including himself) from being kidnapped and sustaining injuries in the process, Tim has difficulty thinking about anything except his guilt over what he could have done better. Based on a story from the comics. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18935299

Title: Like Any Other Kid Summary: Damian's had nightmares every night since he was resurrected and has refused to tell anyone about them until now. Tired of dealing with them, he does what any other kid would do and joins his father in bed. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7588219

Title: Liminal Spaces Summary: Bruce's habit of collecting strays is not limited by dimension. Or: When Young Justice Batman comes across an angsty, seemingly abandoned by his Batman Tim Drake, he decides to step up to the plate and parent the crap out of him Link: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1414078

Title: little misunderstandings Summary: Bruce has heard that line hundreds of times, mostly in his own thoughts, when he sets his eyes on the clown. Clark was the one to tell him first. He would have done it. He's known for years that those words were the only thing that kept his one rule intact. Unfortunately, they are a lie. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1506059

Title: More Like a Nightmare Summary: The criminals in Gotham are gross. Stephanie knows this. Stephanie had a bad childhood. Bruce knows this. One patrol, these two facts come together. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19374331

Title: No Silver Bullet Summary: Everyone knows Batman's origin story. Everyone has heard about Bruce Wayne's tragic past, and his orphaning. It's also common knowledge that Batman doesn't like guns. However, Bruce's PTSD and triggering because of guns isn't often explored... Here are five times that Bruce was triggered, and one time something was different. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20633273

Title: Of Gunshots and being Enough Summary: Stephanie Brown is Robin, but no one seems to believe it. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18056402

Title: Papercuts Summary: They've always said that lies hurt the ones you love the most. None of Bruce's children had any idea how important it was for him to know the truth. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20895134

Title: Tell-tale Summary: " 'Hey,' Jason calls, and Tim turns around with a start. Looks surprised he’s been addressed at all. And Jason says, 'You tell ‘im, Babybird. He feels guilty he doesn’t love you.' " Or, the kids compete to see who should give Bruce bad news. But Jason doesn't take Tim and Bruce's fractured relationship into account. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/series/697095

Title: This distance between us Summary: He wondered where Jason was right now, what he was doing. Probably sleeping, he hoped. Yes, that was it. Fast asleep in his apartment, probably wrapped up like a turtle in the covers. Drooling on his pillow. Blissfully dreaming of muscle cars and guns, or whatever it was teenagers dreamed of. Even though he was twenty now, and not a teenager anymore. Or, Bruce deals with some late-night drasticizing and reacts like a traumatized father of a dead son would. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17749808

Title: the blood stuck beneath his fingernails Summary: Jason is alive- he knows he's alive- but the dreams of the damned, of the dead, drive him near insanity. Luckily, he has people who care for him and motivate him to move forward from the deep melancholy he so often gravitates towards. Features talks with his annoying older brother, his awkward dad, a few mental breakdowns, and the constant wonderings of which gods set Jason up on this path. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1441537

Title: the bridge to nowhere Summary: Jason and Bruce take care of an injured Damian. It forces Jason to reflect on some... unpleasant things. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18239213

Title: The Jason Project Summary: Jason had just wanted to see his autopsy report, he had only wanted to know what information Bruce had about his death. And when Bruce hadn't given it to him, he had stolen it. He hadn’t meant to stumble upon the bucket list of a dead child and the footage of a grieving father crossing one item after another off the list. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19899613

Title: Ugly memories in third person Summary: “Cover your drink.”[Damian's words have consequences and Bruce's mind is not the bomb-proofed system of boxes and compartments he forces himself to believe it is.] Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20301352

Title: Unravel Summary: He doesn’t notice it at first. He’s too happy. He’s back. For good, now. Damian’s alive, and talking to him. Jason and Tim are mad at him for a little while, but they both start talking to him soon enough, too. Cass gives him smiles and hugs, and she lets him kiss her cheek occasionally. So, yeah. He’s too caught up in his family to notice what’s happening at first. In which Dick's trauma catches up to him before he's ready. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/series/822048

Title: Used to the Darkness Summary: “I’m not there,” he said, trying not to sob. “I’m not in my grave, I’m not in the ground.” “I know,” Bruce whispered, bringing Jason’s hand to his lips. “I’m not Icarus or Ophelia.” Jason’s voice grew louder in an attempt to reach that hidden part of Bruce. “I’m not my death. I’m not a tragedy.” ~ Wherein death is haunting and love is painful. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20921330

Title: What Possesses You Summary: He knew Bruce was eyeing him, surely assessing what his son’s young, unchanging face implied. Jason wanted, desperately, to look back and see that stony face. He wanted to know what lied behind those eyes when Bruce realized that he hadn’t aged a day.~ Immortality is a curse that few can bear Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17852552

Title: when you coming home Summary: Dick speaks to his father after five long years. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20307529

Title: whip-poor-will she sings Summary: What if Jack's emotional abuse of Tim took a more physical turn? Link: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1536047

#dc #dc comics #batman #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #stephanie brown #batfamrecs

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