#dick was visiting and Tim didn’t want to say he was tired so they hung out until he passed out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

catxsnow · 3 years

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FREE FALLING K.K.

Request: Okay some anons were simping over kon now I wanna simp~ y/n is an archer on the teen Titans , and she tends to be shy and on the reserved side, so when kon flirts she just dismisses him every time, until another guy ( superhero or civilian, you choose ) gets flirty and he gets made protective/jealous.

Warning: fluff

A/N: I’m slowly running out of already written fics and my motivation has not come back yet. This hiatus may be lasting longer than I thought.

Word Count: 2.3k

There was nothing wrong with a little bit of flirting within the team. It kept the bond of teammates close and always kept everyone on their toes. The dynamic on the Teen Titans was always one of ups and downs. There was such an entanglement of potential relationships that everyone got confused as to what was going on.

Most of that confusion stemmed from Conner Kent, Superboy as the team knew him as. His temporary relationship with Cassie had surprised everyone. He flirted with nearly everyone on the team, Tim, Kori, you. Kon's endless flirting began the day Oliver dropped you off at the Titans Tower and left you there for good.

Kon was frustrating in the sense that his flirtation with you was nonstop. From the moment you woke up to the moment you went back to sleep, it seemed that his only mission was to get you flustered. It didn't seem that he knew that you were bothered by his comments.

Tim always scolded Kon for his behaviour. After Cassie, it was clear that relationships among teammates was dangerous. Not to mention that it was pretty obvious of your blatant ignorance of his attempts. He continued to try nonetheless - one day you would crack for him, one day.

"Good morning, sweetheart." Kon was never an early riser. At the farm, he always got up early for chores, so at the tower he took every chance to sleep in. When he started to learn that you got up early, so did he. There was always the tired look in her eyes that he admired.

Kon found you down at the range. Though your skills were nowhere near Oliver, or even Roy, you put up a good fight just as much as everyone else on this team. The early hours were always dedicated to practice, and unfortunately, Kon figured that out pretty quickly.

You were so concentrated on the shot, you hadn't heard Kon's heavy footsteps join you. The shot went askew, completely missing the target. Your body tensed with frustration at him.

"Whoops, sorry babe. Didn't realize my good looks distracted you so much," Kon grinned. You refused to show him his words got you flustered. Instead, you grabbed another arrow. Babe. It slipped so smoothly off his tongue that it forced a chill down your spine.

"It's fine, Superboy," you assured him - though you were still angered at him for screwing around with your training once again. Kon leaned against the rack that held your bows. His arms rested on the top, head on his hands. His curls were still a mess from his sleep last night.

You felt your arm shake for a split second. His eyes watching your every move, waiting for you to make the perfect shot just as you always did. There was a lot of pressure on you with his gaze. You took a breath before releasing the arrow, watching as it hit dead center of the target. It was easy, hitting a non-moving target like this. Kon was the one making it difficult.

"Superboy?" He cocked an eyebrow. "We aren't on a mission babe, you can call me Kon you know. I'd prefer it." Of course he would, he loved the sound of his name passing your lips. It was almost angelic. "You know-"

"(Y/N), Conner," Tim's head popped into the training room before Kon could tell you what he wanted. His chest fell with a disappointed sigh. "Nightwing and Flash are here."

"Is there something wrong?" You asked. They rarely showed up out of the blue without there being a reason. Usually, that reason meant that people were in trouble and lives were at stake. Tim relieved your stress with a simple shake of his head. He gestured for the both of you to follow him. Kon stuck his hand out for you to hand over the bow so he could hang it up on the rack he leaned on.

A small smile cracked as your hand brushed against his. It was cheesy, ridiculously so, but his touch was so warm and inviting even if it was just for a brief second. Kon placed the bow down and followed you and Tim out of the room. Just as Robin said, his older brother and his friend were with the others in the meeting room.

Wally's presence always lightened the room. There was something about the smile that resided on him that managed to put everyone in a good mood. It always amplified whenever Dick was at his side. The two were a dynamic pair, and when they did stop by the tower without underlying business, it was always a good time.

There were a few times that you had been alone in the tower. Tim back to Gotham, Kon and Cassie to their own homes as well. It left you and Bart with no one but yourselves to keep each other company. In those times, Wally would sometimes make an appearance. The speedsters would train but by the end of the night you would all be piling high with snacks.

As you entered the room, Wally waved at you and that smile that everyone looked forward to was released. Before you could wave back, a heavy arm was thrown across your shoulder. Kon was at your side. It wasn't the first time he had completely invaded your bubble and it surely wouldn't be the last.

"Flash, Nightwing," he greeted. You could feel the heat crawling up your neck with Kon's side pressed against yours. Hopefully, he, nor any of your other teammates, noticed your state. It was beyond annoying that he could get you like this. "What's the visit for this time? Scolding us for saving the day again?"

He dropped his arm from your shoulders but remained close to you. Kryptonians must have ran warm because you could still feel the lingering heat of his body against you.

"JL wanted an update, figured we could stop in," Wally answered. He sped over to your side and placed a hand over your ear so no one else could hear. "And Boy Wonder over there is in trouble with the Bats." Clearly, Kon heard what the speedster had to say and let out a laugh. What could Tim have done to get himself in trouble?

"Doesn't explain why you came," you joked. Wally had mimicked Kon's arm-over-the-shoulder.

"Wanted to come see you, of course," Wally grinned. His arm suddenly locked around your neck and his knuckles rubbed into your head. You struggled to pull him off you. Finally, you had managed to hook his ankle and make him fall flat on his back. "Look at that, you're making me lose my breath."

The laughter among teammates emitted from everyone besides Kon. He had an annoyed look on his face from the interaction between you and Wally, though he said nothing about it. Wally sped back up, a slight tinge of pink to his cheeks after the interaction.

Kon watched in frustration as Wally dragged you into the kitchen, likely to find himself a snack or two. Your laughs always put a bit of joy in him, but now? Hearing you laugh because of Wally? Each sound was like a knife to the heart. Pure jealously ran through him - why was it that he could never make you laugh like that?

"Calm down, Kon," Tim stood by his side. It was clear to anyone, even when they weren't raised by the great Batman, that Kon was incredibly jealous of Wally. It was only Tim that decided to speak up. "There's nothing between them. No need to be jealous."

"I'm not," Kon snapped. His reaction was enough to prove that he was in fact jealous. He let out a huff of air before walking away from his best friend. Unfortunately, the further he got from Tim, the closer he got to you and Wally just to hear the sound of your laughter once more. His chest tightened with anger.

It wasn't at Wally, nor you. It was at himself for not being able to get you out of your comfort zone as the speedster could. Since joining this team it seemed he was the only one that you remained shy and nervous around. What was wrong with him to make you feel that way?

What was wrong with him that made you not want to spend time with him?

"There you are."

Kon disappeared shortly after you left with Wally (and eventually Bart who couldn't stay away at the smell of food). Tim was with Dick all afternoon and Cassie spent her time training with Kori. Kon was nowhere to be found, and you couldn't figure out why he felt the need to leave his friends.

You searched the whole building for him, starting down at the training grounds and working your way all the way up to the roof of the buildings. He was sitting on the edge, legs dangling as the last rays of the sun fell from the sky.

Kon folded into himself: shoulders hunched, head hung low. He perked up at the sound of your voice - even more so when he saw that you were alone. You sat next to him and matched his sitting position.

"Were you up here all day?" You asked. Kon nodded, though he remained silent. It wasn't like him to skip out on a pickup line or make some sort of comment. In fact, it wasn't like him to just disappear the whole day either. He looked upset about something. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Kon was a horrible liar. You raised your eyebrows at him, indicating that you knew he was lying through his teeth. He sighed, leaning back so his palms pressed into the rough roofing. The golden rays illuminated him, creating an aura around him that made him seem godly. You wanted to reach out to him, but contained yourself.

The sunset was beautiful enough as it was, but to add Kon's beauty on top of that? Your heart was beating so fast you were sure that Kon's super hearing had him concerned.

"You don't have to lie around me, you know," You nudged his side. Kon sighed once more. He didn't want to tell you the truth, but he felt terrible for lying and making you worry. You were quick to notice a pink tinge on his cheeks. It was a turn of events, usually you were the one flustered around him. The hue looked pleasant on him.

"I'm sorry," he suddenly apologized, "I... Well, I guess..." Kon fumbled over his words. The pink on his cheeks grew brighter, even as he tried to hide it from you. There was never a day you thought you would get to see the great Superboy flushed like this. He was always the confident one. "Fuck."

Kon's hand grasped your cheeks. His split moment of hesitance made you realize exactly what he was about to do. Whether it be frozen in fear or excitement, you didn't try to move. The closer he got the harder your heartbeat until the point as if it felt like you were going to burst. The moment Kon's lips were on yours it felt as if it stopped altogether.

His kiss was soft, hesitant - nothing like the facade he always had up. Kon was delicate with you, as if he was worried he was going to break you with just a touch. Your lips moved against his with far more confidence than you had ever shown him before. You didn't realize how badly you craved for his taste until the moment you had it.

He pulled away only for a second, waiting to see if you were wanting him to quit completely. With no sign of regret, Kon pulled you in for a rushed kiss. His lips needy against yours, making up for the lost time that he wasted months on. It was only when his lungs felt like they were going to combust did he give you space.

"I-" His palm remained against the curve of your neck and jaw, thumb swiping against your cheekbone. "I was jealous today, of Wally. I've never heard you laugh so hard when you're with him and I wanted that. I'm sorry."

"You have no reason to be sorry, Superboy," you assured him. He couldn't stop his feelings, just as you couldn't deny them anymore. "I-I'm sorry I was always so distant with you. I... I guess I was too scared to admit my feelings for you."

Kon was ready to spill his heart out to you. He knew that once he started gushing about how much he adored you, he wouldn't be able to stop. Instead, he leaned into you again, smiling into your kiss with pure excitement.

His legs that dangled off the edge pushed against the siding of the building and pulling you along with him. A strangled scream ripped from your throat as the two of you free fell in the darkening sky. Kon's arm wrapped around your waist and he held you flush against his body.

Your head was buried into the crook of his neck until realizing that you were no longer falling but floating. The grip on his shirt loosened and you looked up to appreciate the new view he gave you.

Kon brushed his lips against yours once more, just to grab your attention. "Don't worry babe, I've got you. There's no need to worry whenever you're with me."

Taglist: @pricetagofficial @mora-miserium @babymango-writes @redrobin-yumm @simp-is-what-i-am @catsofsmoke @subtleappreciation @officiallydarkgeek @spiitfiires @pinkdiamond1016 @childish-kiwi @givetimdrakeacoffee @gunnedrobin @local-fandom-trashcan @bikoncon @foenixphire

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whereflowersbloom · 4 years

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Special Mission

Friday evening finds Raven sprawled on the floor of one of the empty rooms in the Titans Tower. Dick had given them permission to convert one of the rooms into a hang out spot since it wasn’t being used for anything else, and tonight the female Titans joined forces with a little help from the guys, to transform it in the biggest, softest, ultra-cozy pillow fort in existence. Tonight was an special occasion. Mar’i was staying over tonight for the first time.

There’s a mountain of pillows, a few bean bag chairs, and soft blankets in light colors covering every inch of the floor. A couple board games are stacked to the side, such as: Chutes and ladders, Race to the treasure, The floor is lava, which isn’t practical if you are playing with a speedster, half-kryptonians and other meta humans, if you asked Rose or Tim. Not too far from there is a television and gaming system Jon and Beast Boy set up. Gar brought some games Mar’i enjoyed last time she visited.

There are a couple of bedsheets hung overhead to give off the effect of a tent, soft fairy lights in pastel colors strung along the edges with adjustable brightness, illuminating the enclosed space. It was Rose’s brilliant idea. The new Titan member claimed to be not good dealing with children but proved to have a gift for decorating.

As soon as Raven stepped inside the room, she thought it definitely contrasted if compared with her room, designed around a dark colors palette. She was completely positive the little girl would like it though. Truth be told Raven was tired and wanted nothing but wrap a blanket around herself and sleep for the next two days. The only thing keeping her from doing it was just little Mar’i standing close to her and looking at everything with wide dreamy eyes, her bare toes wiggling into the softness of blankets. She let out a high-pitched, girlish giggle. The mission tonight was to make certain Mar’i was entertained and safe her first night away from her parents. Piece of cake.

The half-alien girl liked soft and cute things, Raven has noticed. It’s not hard to when she had spent the entire time running her little tanned hands through the fluffy blanket she had been given, wrapping it tightly around herself, calling herself a purrito proudly, needless to explain it was something Beast Boy had taught her.

It was rather enchantingly adorable Raven admitted, a smile curving her lips, meanwhile Donna was snapped a couple of pictures to send to Jon, who immediately replied with endless crying emoticons, unfortunately he was away on a mission with Damian. Quickly Jon sent a text saying they’d probably be home after dinner. Raven was sure Jon showed the picture to his partner, so Robin made proper arrangements to make sure he was at the Tower before his niece’s bedtime. Damian would never acknowledge it, but he secretly relished Mar’i’s attention and adoration.

Mar’i isn’t looking too happy now, she’s looking around as if searching for something or someone, and Raven wonders what went wrong. She replayed the events of the day. Rose entirely disregarded the planned, detailed schedule Robin left for Mar’i’s Grayson visit, declaring it was bullshit and it was time to be spontaneous and have some fun. They all agreed.

They played some of the board games, setting some elementary unbreakable rules, no cheating or using powers. Donna braided the girl’s long dark hair into something overcomplicated but cute. Karen had suggested to watch Netflix, the platform contained a variety of shows appropriate for children. At the end Mar’i had chosen to watch an old cartoon called Adventure Time, that had all of them looking attentively at the television with the same rapt attention all five year olds have, Donna was even gasping and cooing along with Mar’i.

Raven had zero experience babysitting children. They did save children on daily basis, citizens, not her friend’s children. The interaction was limited, this was different to a whole new level. The first time Kori and Dick brought toddler Mar’i, Raven was a bundle of nerves. Thankfully Kori patiently taught her everything she needed to know to look after a child.

And because she’s a organized person, who is little by little becoming a part-time babysitter apparently, she’s fully aware of the the importance of keeping to a schedule as closely as possible. It was also something Damian had repeatedly reminded all of them.

They’re halfway the second season, waiting for the girl to wind down before bed with little success. Raven immediately noticed she wanted something so she patted the little girl’s back, soothing her anxiety away.

“Is there anything you want, Mar’i?” Raven asked in a whisper.

Little Mar’i looked at Raven with teary eyes, tugging her shirt down. “Mar‘i wants Dami.” Oh it made sense. She was looking for a familiar face. Someone that reminded her of his father. Family.

The little girl clung to Raven, clutching onto the fabric of her shirt, she was burying his face in her chest. She obviously missed her parents. But Damian was on the mission with Jon, she doubted they would be back before dinner.

Raven chewed on her lower lip and tries to explain the situation to the five year old. “Damian is away fighting bad guys, like your dad but he will be back after dinner.”

The girl shyly rose her head, the slightest hint of hope sparking in her eyes. “He’ll be back? Really?”

“He promised and Damian always keeps his promises, right?” She smiles warmly at The little half-alien. Thinking of way to stall time before Damian and Jon get home.

Mar’i shook her head, she was wearing a pink dinosaur onesie, curled up on herself, hands in loose fists pressed to her chest, and an apprehensive little frown on her face. “But Mar‘i wants Dami now.”

Raven needs a workable emergency plan. Mar’i hadn’t shown signs of Starfire’s powers but she couldn’t risk upsetting a five year old and unintentionally awake them. This called for backup, a momentary distraction.

Hey Mar’i, would you like to play with someone else?” Raven asked gently, and the girl chewed on her lip and looked down and away. “Do you want me to call Conner?” The Titans pushed and it’s worth it, Mar’i’s head snapped back up to her, glowing green eyes wide with hope, before she looks away again. “I want to play with flyboy.”

“I already texted him. He’ll be here any mi-“ Rose waved her phone at them with a pleased smile on her face only to be abruptly interrupted before Faye could finish speaking.

The door to the room slammed open, making them all jump and jerk their heads towards it. Raven is surprised but already has her shield up, protecting Mar’i who is behind her, her heart hammering in her throat. It took her thirty seconds to recognize the bold invaders.

“What’s wrong with Mar’i? Rose said it was a red code.” Conner urgently demanded, standing in the doorway, a completely destroyed door beyond repair next to him, his electric blue eyes shifting around wildly as if looking for a threat, body braced in a battle stance. “Dude, You didn’t have to destroy the door.” Beast boy appeared, an annoyed expression on his face.

Raven blinks several times, recovering from the shock faster than everyone else, processing Conner’s words. Red code. She gave Rose a reproachful glance.

“What? Could have been one.” Rose said indignantly, and shrugged uninterested. “She wants to play with you, Supernerd.”

“Oh. That’s the emergency?” Conner said in surprise, and straightened up, his face embarrassed, turning red. He shifted a little in place, looking away from them, rubbing at the back of his neck self-consciously. “Um. Sorry for barging in like that...and breaking the door.”

“Well prepare for trouble.” Gar said with a wide smug smirk on his green face, standing next to Conner, elbowing his partner’s side. “And make it double.” Conner mutters playfully. Well, at least the dynamic duo would keep Mar’i entertained buying them time.

Karen broke the tension by laughing. “Damn Kon-El, that was faster than I expected.“ The rest of them started laughing a little too to shake off the nervous energy in the room. It’s not the first time Conner jumps to action and damages the building, but it’s kind of unsettling to have the intensity of Conner usually reserved for criminals and other threats turned on them. Conner kept apologizing nonstop until he locked eyes with Mar’i.

“Do you like the Superheroes, Mar’i?” Conner said smiling at her and instantly wanted to smack himself, of course the kid liked them, her parents were heroes and the rest of her family. He was still getting used to interaction with children. What would Clark do?

The small girl nodded enthusiastically in reply. “Mar’i likes Titans. I’m going to be like mommy and daddy!” She exclaimed, bounding in excitement. Well, at least Conner had managed to break the shell.

He climbs over the mountain of pillows and blankets and sits down on Mar’i’s other side, and the girl immediately scoots a little closer to him, gripping the hem of his baggy shirt, which has Superman’s distinctive Symbol printed across the chest. Conner instinctually put a hand down on the floor behind her back, giving her more space to press against his side. “Why don’t you tell me what you did with the girls today and after Gar will let you ride him while he’s in his dinosaur form.”

“Mar’i watched Totoro and Adventure time and played Race treasure.“ She spoke struggling with the difficult words and looked up at Kon-El, her eyes shimmering with eagerness and excitement.

“Hey! Don’t talk for others.” beast boy complained, looking at him with squinted eyes.

“Come on, BB. Do it for Mar’i.” The little alien approached Gar, opening her arms for a hug. Looking at him with expectant green eyes. “Dactyl.” She kept muttering the word over and over, tugging at Gar’s pants insistently. Gar’s lips turned up ever so slightly, slowly. He looked at her with unsure eyes, and it compelled her to offer a sunny charming smile. When she did beast boy’s face softened, and his shoulders relaxed as he sighed in defeat. “Pterodactyl got it.” He shape-shifted into the flying dinosaur.

They spent around an hour playing ‘catch me’, Mar’i sitting on Gar’s back, Conner flying around the room carefully not to destroy anything else. After ten minutes playing, Donna joined following Raven and the rest of the girls. It was their only chance to act like children, the childhood some never had the opportunity to experience, letting it loose, enjoying at their hearts content. Mar’i was truly a blessing. They decide to take a break when Raven noticed her phone is vibrating. She automatically answered.

“Robin here. Mission was a success. No damage or casualties to report.” Damian said quietly into the phone in his ear, observing the traffic slither along below. “What is the status?” Damian asked tentatively. Part of him was concerned what could happen if he left the Titans looking after Mar’i while he was away. He didn’t doubt Raven was skilled and intelligent, capable of handling the situation. Perhaps he was too alarmed for nothing.

“Under control. We are about to have dinner. Mar’i did ask for you though.” Raven whispered faintly, chewing in her cheek.

Damian took a shaky breath and didn’t hesitate to reply “I’ll let Jon know we are leaving right away. You’re in charge, Raven.” There’s a long silence before Raven realizes Damian hung up. She ran her fingers through her hair. Nothing could Damian Wayne. “It’s time for dinner everyone.” She announced loudly, quickly pulling her attention back to Mar’i.

Everyoone walks towards the kitchen and discussing what they would like to have for dinner: Gar and Conner pizza and she heard Mar’i mention pancakes and mustard.

~~~

That night, dinner was fun. After a few minutes, everyone’s chatting cheerfully, Conner loosened up enough to joke around ever so slightly. He was cautious still, of course, but so was Raven, watching closely Mar’i, she was her responsibility. She seemed to be comfortable with all the Titans. Conner warmed her dinner with his heat vision, making her look in awe. Raven scolded him saying it wasn’t necessary to and it was dangerous. Everyone else laughed merrily. Conner didn’t speak too loud like some of the others, and he wasn’t intimidating, like Damian. There were only few people who could see through Damian’s tough facade. Raven liked his gentle and kindhearted soul. She was sure Mar’i could see them too. When they are almost finish they heard the sound of footsteps approaching. And they were home.

“Where is Mar-Mar? Uncle Jon is here.” A high-pitched voice resonated in the Tower. Followed by a ‘shut your mouth, Kent. You aren’t her uncle.’ Mar’i tilted her head curiously.

"Dami here?" The girl asked, bouncing a little. She cheered when Raven nodded, smiling, thoughts of her uncle Dami whereabouts disappearing from her mind as he walked in, picking her up carefully, she wrapped her small arms round his neck and buried her face in his chest. “Dami.”

“I am here Mar’i.” Damian pats her back affectionately, placing her right on his lap. Damian promised to read her stories until she fell asleep. Jon stood beside him, claiming it was her turn to play with Mar-Mar, and how unfair Damian was being to him, but Damian refused to let go. He had a promise to fulfill and he kept his word.

~~~

It’s dark and comfortable. Raven delighted nights like these the most, when everything feels quiet and unhurried, no drama to deal with. When she can lay down with Damian and just breath, taking comfort in each other’s presence without the need to fill the silence with conversation. It was a much needed break after a long day. Damian for someone who's so tightly packed with muscle, his solid chest, makes an excellent pillow, she decided. A pillow who was currently running his hands through her dark hair. “Did you miss me?” Raven asked teasingly.

“I’d rather be here enjoying your refreshening and warm company than Kent’s” Damian said smugly, voice already rough with sleep. The low sound rumbled through Raven and she finds her mind shutting down without her consent. They were both exhausted.

“It isn’t the same when you aren’t around.” She murmured quietly. Her eyes fluttered, body relaxing as tense muscle melts into jelly.

The door creaked and Damian half twists, lifting his face to look at the door, finding Mar’i in the doorway, standing there in her pajamas, looking unsure and a little scared. “Uhmm. Mar’i wants to sleep with Dami and Rae.” Raven immediately softens and moves making space for her.

“You wanna join us, Mar’i? Come here, it’s snuggle time.” Raven pats the bed, the gesture makes the girl realize it was a sign to get into bed with them.

She pulled the door shut behind her and quickly crawled on the bed, slowly wedging herself under Damian’s arm between Raven and Damian.

“Are you okay?” Damian asked worriedly, sitting up a little. Ready to jump to action if she needed anything. He learnt he couldn’t let his guard down not even when he was relaxing with his soon-to-be girlfriend.

“I couldn’t sleep. I want to watch tv.” Mar’i whispered, her eyes on Damian as if asking for permission. Damian nods approvingly.

“Anything special you want to watch?” Damian questioned, looking over at his niece, as he gets up to get his laptop, placing it in his lap, lifting an arm and putting it over Raven’s shoulders so she can lean back more comfortably and have that little extra space. Mar’i half turns and scoots into a more comfortable position, stretching her tiny legs. “Kiki’s delivery service.” She instantly answered with enthusiasm in her voice.

“Good choice.” Raven grabbed a blue blanket she brought from their new fort room, unfolding it over the three of them.

Mar’i watched the movie with undivided attention, eyelids slowly drooping as the movie flies by until she falls fully asleep pressed against Damian, who was breathing steadily, sleeping peacefully. She felt safe between Raven and Damian, protected, it reminded her of her parents’ warmth and love for her.

~~~

The next morning Damian wakes up to an empty bed. That was not what he excepted. He gets up slowly, mouth uncomfortably dry and with a dull headache from sleeping more than usual. He looked at his phone it read ‘9:00am.’ Tsk. He overslept that was strange but considering how hectic the last weeks has been. It was a possibility his body was suffering extreme fatigue.

Blinking blearily, he made his way downstairs, he stopped when he hears voices from the living room and debated to just say a quick greeting to everyone on his way to the kitchen, or focus on his objective, Raven and Mar’i, but startlingly he gets caught with his mouth half open to speak at the scene in front of him.

“Why is my precious niece floating on a broom?” Damian asked skeptically, not sure of it was a dream or his mind was hallucinating. He finally rubbed the tiredness out of his penetrating keen eyes, watching as Mar’i weightlessly sat on a worn broom, both hands wrapped tightly around it and smiling widely, excitement in her growing green eyes. Raven’s has one hand on the broom, controlling it. So it was real. He reason if she was with Raven she was safe.

“I am a witch like Rae.” She squealed breathlessly.

“Mar’i, I’m not.” Raven shuts her mouth, sighing softly. “You’re a witch. Yes.” She had no idea how Dick and Kori had the energy to deal with the unstoppable hurricane Mar’i Grayson. She supposed it was something she’d find out one day, she told herself. Her violet eyes glancing up to Damian for a second.

It’s here @chromium7sky @andthendk @ravenfan1242 @quoth--the--raven @deep-in-mind67

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youwerenevermeanttofeelalone · 4 years

Text

But? Damian Wayne • Tim Drake

Pairing: Older!Damian Wayne x Plus Size Reader, Tim Drake x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Summary: you go through a lot because of Tim and Damian but in different ways.

Request: do you listen to asmr boyfriend roleplay (on yt)? Some of them would be great as fics.

Warnings: angst, mentions of cheating, sexual innuendos, language, fluff, a very light mention of violence, light mentions of insecurity, is rain a warning?

A/N: the fact that every fic I’ve written for these characters has the same concept is very funny but I definitely see the appeal and the potential.

Based off these YouTube videos: one two three

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

Replaying it didn’t make it easier to digest. After months of plans to move in together and talks about adopting a dog, Tim had broken up with you. He fell for someone else, a person he spoke about often.

She was a coworker of his, a gorgeous woman if anyone asked you. You could never blame him for falling for someone like her, she looked like a model and was a badass agent — it just hurt.

Now you were packing the belongings he kept at your place to send them to him with Alfred. It seemed like he couldn’t only break your heart and walk away, Tim also had to humiliate you. Out of respect, Alfred didn’t ask anything at all, he merely reminded you he was always available for you and wished you a good night.

The TV show playing in front of you wasn’t being processed by your brain. Curled up on the bed, covered with the duvet and a fuzzy blanket, you were desperately trying to conceive some sleep, for your brain to at least calm down so your head would stop throbbing and your eyes twitching.

Startled by tapping on the window, you were forced to swallow the mucus clogging your nose. Coughing, you rolled on the bed to asses who had disturbed you. Upon realizing it was just Robin, you begrudgingly left the bed to open the window.

He entered the room without saying anything, waiting for you to lock the window and close the curtains to take his domino mask off. He always did that, no matter how many times you told him no one would see him.

Damian stared down at the dozens of used Kleenex in the trashcan you kept near the bed. “Why are you upset?”

“I thought you knew...” your voice was strained, throat too tired due to the sobbing.

“I clearly don’t.”

“Tim dumped me for someone else.” Saying it in front of his brother was even worse than you had imagined. “Why are you here if it isn’t because I forgot to pack his brown jacket?”

Damian plopped down on your desk chair, staring directly at you, “patrol was boring and father is with Kyle again.”

Nodding, you went back to your spot on the bed, making yourself comfortable with a pillow on your lap.

“Are you tired?”

You were, but you didn’t want to be alone. “Not at all,” you lied so he wouldn’t dare leave. “Do you want to watch that movie you recommended to me last month?”

“Sure.”

Browsing through different streaming services until you found the film, you saw Damian take parts of his suit off in order to be more comfortable. Surprising you, he sat down on the bed, just beside you, once you had found the title.

You had to admit that paying attention was easier with him around, probably because you didn’t want to annoy him. The film did its job, you finally got distracted — you also fell asleep.

It became a routine, every night he would tap on your window and make you company. Some nights you would stay up until sunrise when you had to go to work, others he would be so tired he’d crash out on your couch, and a few nights you fully rested because his presence made you feel calmer.

Damian and you had never been too close, he and Tim had a complicated relationship and you didn’t want to have problems with your now ex-boyfriend. Now you hoped you had, he wasn’t what you had thought — Damian was nicer than every member of the family made him out to be, funnier, smarter, kinder. You genuinely enjoyed being around him.

He was extremely patient with you. He’d recommend you things to entertain yourself, let you vent when you needed, and without having to do it, would often make sure you had been eating properly because he had observed that between how much you had cried the days after the breakup, your job, and your lack of sleep you were low on energy. Damian had even spent an entire week helping you redecorate the apartment to cheer your spirit.

Being close to Damian meant spending time at the park with Titus, a shit ton of it, and trying new food every weekend, and visiting art galleries which had never been your thing. Being close to Damian also meant worrying because with all of his skills and abilities he was the most stubborn man you had ever met who often fought blindly just to end up in the Batcave's medical wing with a worried Alfred calling you to let you know your friend was hurt but alive.

Most importantly, being close to him meant feeling free to be yourself. You were sure no one would believe you, but it had never been truer.

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

Elevators had you tired, ironically. The only reason you hadn’t taken the stairs was that you were carrying a portfolio full of documents, a book bag, your purse, and a coat — everything was wet, just like you. Taking an umbrella would’ve saved you many nuisances, or not walking home from work, but you were too distracted in the morning to remember and now you were paying for it thanks to the rain that came with the nearing seasonal change.

You liked the rain, its sound was soothing, the smell made you aware of your own existence as it awakened your senses, you felt cleansed by it. A lovely thing to experience overall, just not after a long day of work.

Stepping out the second the elevator doors slid open, you took the keys out of your coat with your right hand. You let the straps of your purse slide down to your forearm as you flexed your arm while introducing the key in the lock, when it turned, you sighed out of relief and pushed the door open to finally get inside.

The lights were already on, sizzling echoed around the small apartment and a familiar smell of stir-fried vegetables hit your nose. You hung your coat, letting it drip as much water it naturally could before even daring to put it into the dryer.

Walking further into the apartment, you found Damian in the kitchen. He was wearing the comfiest clothes you had seen him on, sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt with only a pair of white socks.

“What are you doing in here with this weather?” you asked, taking a look at what he was cooking.

“I was bored.”

He always said the same, you always told him you didn’t believe him but he ignored it every single time. Patting his back, you announced you would get changed.

“Don’t take too long, dinner will get cold!”

As much as you were fine with Damian being there( and his cuisine,) you had to wonder why couldn’t he tell you his reasonings for his presence at your place. One thing was him visiting when you were there and another him practically breaking into your apartment — you were open to give him a copy of the keys, to be honest, but you would really appreciate it if he asked.

Dinner was delicious, shared over talk about your day. Damian was avoiding speaking about his day, about his entire week actually — in the past month and a half he hadn’t done anything close to that.

Sat on the couch in order to continue bingeing the show the two of you had started last week, you considered asking him what was going on with him. It partially scared you, the last time a member of that family had acted like that toward you they broke your heart.

Taking a deep breath, you threw your head backward to rest it against the edge of the sofa. Damian watched you, frowning. “Are you okay?”

You answered in a hum. “You?”

“Peachy.”

You moved around the couch, opening your eyes to stare at him. He stared back, the frown slowly disappearing from his face as seconds passed.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you inquired in a timid voice.

“Father is planning on retiring.”

“Oh... are you taking over?”

“Yes.”

You couldn’t picture anyone but him doing it. Dick had been miserable as Batman, Jason wasn’t interested in being like Bruce after everything that had happened, and Cass was finally finding a balance in her life.

“You don’t sound happy about it.”

“I am.”

“But?”

He shook his head, “but nothing. It was a long day.”

For your mental wellbeing, you didn’t press on it. He was clearly hiding something from you but he had the right to do so. It made you feel bad but whatever.

The lights flickered, prompting you to groan. The storm was getting worse, the sky was rumbling with thunder and the lighting striking the city and flashing into the living room through the thin white drapes was as mesmerizing as terrifying.

You mumbled, “can you stay?”

“Yes.”

Damian walked behind you, holding the flashlight from his cellphone to light the path toward your bedroom. You undid the bed quickly so he wouldn’t have to hold the device up for so long, you were sure it wasn’t an inconvenience to him but you still didn’t want to bother him.

He sat down on the bed, just next to you, “I’ll stay here until you fall asleep, then I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“You can sleep next to me if you want.” You felt your face burn up the second the words left your mouth yet you meant them. Oh, you did.

You heard shuffling. Assuming he was taking his sweatshirt off to get into bed, you moved away from the middle of the mattress toward the farthest side from him.

Getting under the duvet, Damian laid on his back. His cologne mixed with his usual smell of vanilla and almonds filled your nostrils as he dropped his head onto the pillow with his arms crossed against his front.

“Dami?” you whispered. He hummed in acknowledgment. “Can you get closer? I’m cold.”

With no hesitation, he turned over in order to lay on his side. Throwing his arm around you from behind, “Is that better?”

You relaxed with your back against his chest, letting a content sigh out. Damian inhaled deeply, taking a whiff off you. He did it again then, finding the smell of your lotion soothing. As he relaxed too, his arm curled around you more comfortably with his hand laying on your plump belly. You placed your hand on top of his, a little nervous yet excited. Being held was a nice feeling, one you had forgotten.

He lifted his fingers, brushing yours. You intertwined your fingers between his, playing with them. He huffed a light breath, caressing the sides of your fingers as you played with his.

Turning around, you got lost into the ethereal way the light from the lamppost entering through the window illuminated Damian’s side profile. He opened his mouth to probably say something but you abruptly shut him up. You did know what overcame you, it was something that had been simmering in you for the past month — the need of being near him, the butterflies that swarmed inside you when he laughed, the peace he brought you. He surprised you by kissing back.

“Shit,” you exclaimed, realizing you had actually done it. “I’m sorry, I—“

“It’s okay,” he interrupted to assure you. He placed his hand on your lower back, leaning in again. “Can we do it again?”

You kissed him again, feeling him tighten his arm around you in order to pull you closer. He deepened the kiss too, prying your mouth open as you held his face in order to ground yourself mentally. Damian laid you on your back, pushing you into the mattress as he straddled you — his lips didn’t leave yours, not even as both of you whimpered while his hands trailed up and down your thighs and yours mapped his back. Full-on making out with your best friend wasn’t how you pictured your shitty day ending, but you weren’t about to complain.

Damian couldn’t keep his lips off your face, enjoying the softness of your cheeks under his mouth and seeing the natural twitches of your nose which made him realize you were actually awake. He hoped he hadn’t awakened you up.

“I thought you were asleep.” The depth of his voice sent a shiver down your spine. “Were you pretending?”

You hummed, “it was hard with all those kisses.”

“I wasn’t kissing you,” he said teasingly, using his index and middle fingers to lift your head in order to continue kissing your face. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did. You?”

He answered, “yes. The best in months.” It felt good knowing you weren’t the only one.

Damian hugged you close with both arms, exhaling happily, “you’re very warm.”

Hiding your face in his chest, you hugged back. You didn’t know what it meant, or the meaning behind the gesture of still cuddling in bed with the guy you had started developing feelings for mere weeks after breaking up with his brother. But it didn’t matter, you were comfortable in his arms and happy with seemingly having cracked his shell.

You had to ask, however. “Did I overstep last night?”

“No, I told you it was okay.”

“Oh, yeah.”

He pulled away enough to fully face you. You attempted to ignore him, shifting under his gaze. Damian licked his lips, “did I make you think otherwise?”

You shook your head, the sound the friction of the side of your face made against the pillow too loud for your liking. “I just... I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“Is this ruining our friendship?”

You stuttered, “I— I think so?” You weren’t sure.

“I want to ruin it,” he stated, eyes fixed on yours, “more than anything.”

Your eyes dropped to his mouth as he said it, his full lips tempting you again. You were scared of the lack of guilt you were feeling, but you happily gave in. “Let’s ruin it, then.”

Smiling brightly, he dipped his face in order to kiss you. You were certain you would never get over his soft lips, the warmth of his breath, the firmness of his touch, his intoxicating scent, his silky voice... God, he truly had you smitten.

Nuzzling against your shoulder, he intertwined his legs with yours. “I don’t want to get out of bed yet.”

You giggled. “Then don’t.”

Damian decided he could do that, just cuddle his favorite person in the world until something came up, maybe.

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

You had been typing on your computer, as music harmonized your den-office when the doorbell rang. Looking at the time to try and guess who could be visiting you on a Tuesday noon, you pushed yourself back, away from the desk, in order to stand up.

Dot, the Labrador you had adopted no long ago wiggled her tail from her spot near the couch as you crossed the living room. She loved laying there, she had a good view of the door and could jump on you the second you got home.

You regretted opening the door the second you faced your visitor. Tim Drake smiled timidly at you, “hi, (Y/N).”

“I— uh, hello?” You tilted your head, confused as to what he was doing there, who had given him the address and why had he thought he would be welcome.

“Can I come in?”

You lifted your index finger. “Just a second.”

Opening the guest-closet, you took a pair of slippers out and padded back toward the door. Tim looked down at the slippers you were offering to him, then at his shoes — as he did, he realized you weren’t wearing any footwear.

He complied, taking his shoes off and sliding his feet into the slippers. When he asked where to put the pair of footwear he had just taken off, you pointed to a mat next to the door, just under the key holders. You closed the front door as he dropped his shoes.

“Wow,” he exclaimed, eyes taking in as much of the space around him as possible, “your taste has changed! How long has it been?”

“A little over a year and a half.”

“We really need to catch up!”

You motioned for him to sit down on the couch. Dot curiously stared at him when he did so while you asked, “do you want anything to drink?”

“Coffee would be fine,” he answered just to have more time to examine the living room. It was extremely luxurious, with a vaulted ceiling and oversized windows.

Curious about the overall design of the penthouse, and how good your job had to be for you to be able to pay for such living arrangements, he followed you toward the kitchen where you were preparing his coffee. It was as full of luxury as the living room, with stainless steel appliances, granite counter-tops and a breakfast bar the size of your previous apartment’s entire kitchen.

“How have you been?” He asked, sliding his palm against the marbled breakfast bar.

“I’ve been great.” You gave him a tight smile, placing the sugar bowl onto the bar.

“I’m glad. How’s your family?”

“They’re great, thank you.” Out of courtesy, you asked, “how have you been?”

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, “well, after I abruptly broke up with you, from which I’m very sorry because I was a dick, my girlfriend broke up with me too...”

“I’m sorry.” You genuinely felt for him, being dumped out of the blue wasn’t something you wished upon anyone. Pouring coffee into a mug, you handed it to him.

“It’s okay,” he smiled openly, nodding as a thank you for the coffee and dropping a couple of spoonfuls of sugar into the beverage, “I’m over it. I moved to Europe when Bruce said he needed someone to supervise the branch of the company there, the drama wasn’t good for my spirit.”

“Why are you back? It’s not like Gotham has changed.”

“My best friend is getting married.”

You hummed, finding estrange that you hadn’t been invited to the wedding.

“You have a new boy or anything?”

You stuttered, dropping a teabag into a cup, “perhaps.”

“Come on, (N/N), tell me! I won’t get mad.” He deviated his gaze. “I’m over you and everything.”

You confessed then, pouring hot water on top of the herbs, “I am dating Damian.”

“Which Damian?”

You waited for your ex-boyfriend to swallow the sip of coffee he had just taken and took the opportunity to have a sip of tea to calm your nerves. “Wayne,” you explained.

“You’re dating my little brother?!” He whisper-shouted. You simply nodded. “For how long?”

“Eleven months.”

“So what? You ran into his arms as soon as I broke up with you?!”

You didn’t appreciate the tone he was using or what he was insinuating. Definitely not when he had cheated on you without for once thinking of sparing your feelings.

“Damian was there for me when no one else had the time, it just happened.”

“I thought you were going to stay away from my family,” he reproached you.

In all honesty, you had thought the same thing. As much as Alfred had told you to call him if you needed anything when he went to pick up the belongings Tim kept at your place, you hadn’t planned on doing it — but that same night, when Damian arrived, tired after a long patrol, and playing dumb by saying he had just dropped by because he was bored you decided you didn’t have to, you didn’t want to. Eventually, you evolved, as many things had after that night, not for Damian nor because of him but next to him, with his patience and support.

“I can’t believe you,” he shook his head.

“I thought you were over me.”

“I’m not jealous! But you deserve better than him — you’re so pretty and nice and he’s selfish and mean and depends on Bruce for everything.”

That didn’t sound like Damian at all. “Maybe you don’t know your brother.”

“You’re telling me he’s changed? Because I don’t believe it.”

You couldn’t be a testimony of Damian’s change when you had never seen the version Tim described, but you could definitely say Damian was everything you had always wanted in a partner and more — he was what you needed, what you loved.

“You still can do way, waaaaaay better than him,” Tim interpreted your silence as a confirmation of Damian’s change.

“Like who, Timothy?”

“Like me!” he exploded, clenching his eyes shut for a couple seconds to control his breathing. “I’ll go straight to the point: I miss you. I came back to get you back, there’s no wedding. I was too stupid to see what I had when I had it, I know, but I’ve changed,” he assured, “I have a new philosophy, I’m surrounded by better people. I’m not blind anymore.”

“Neither I am.”

He ignored your comment and went on, “let’s just start again. In another country, a new house. We’ll adopt as many puppies as you want!” Tim took an envelope out, “I have two plane tickets here for tomorrow. One is yours.”

The front door unlocked loudly, prompting both you and Dot to crane your necks in order to stare at it. Damian pushed it open, shoes in hand and blazer draping over his forearm.

You saw him focus on the pair of shoes on the mat for mere seconds before Dot happily wiggled her tail at him as she approached him. Damian threw his blazer to the nearest couch, quickly undoing his tie which followed suit, before hunching down to pet the little dog.

Out of habit, you left the kitchen to walk toward him and greet him. He stood back up, naturally towering over you and kissing you softly, “hello, beloved.”

You giddily smiled, forgetting you weren’t alone, “hi, handsome. I missed you.” Wrapping your arms around his waist, you inhaled his scent. God, you had truly missed him. Sleeping without him wasn’t the same, nor having to rely on music or the tv for the place to not feel alone. Two days of not hearing his voice not waking up tangled up with him were too much sometimes.

Damian put his hands on your waist, sighing at finally being able to touch your soft body again. “I missed you more.” He leaned downward, placing his lips on yours again.

“(Y/N),” Tim pleaded from behind you, making you jump.

Damian parted from you, looking past your shoulder and directly at his brother. “Drake. What are you doing in here?”

You stepped to the side, opting for opening the terrace’s door so Dot could have some fun outside. In the background, as you leant against the doorway and watched the little dog sniff the terrace, you heard Tim say Alfred had given him the address. Oh, sweet Alfred, always trying to keep the family together.

Turning around, you saw them both sit down in front of each other in the living room. Trying to keep them from fighting, you walked back into the room and sat down next to your boyfriend.

Tim immediately told you, “please don’t throw it all to waste for him.”

Both Damian and you frowned. He put his hand on your thigh, like he had done the first time he had taken you to a business dinner as his date, like he had grown used to do under any table. It was your favorite gesture, he wasn’t a big fan of PDA but he still made sure to always be touching you — the fact that he loved your thighs when you had always been insecure due to their size was a nice addition.

“I’m over you, Tim. Damian is my boyfriend, and with who I want to be.”

“He’ll never love you like I do, he can’t.” Tim’s tone was the harshest you had heard from him.

He was right, though. Damian would never love you like Tim did, that was the whole point. You didn’t want what Tim had to offer, the kind of love he could give — you were past that, you had been for a long time now and it felt amazing.

Tired and spent, Damian hugged you extremely tightly while cuddling that night, almost to the point where you struggled to breathe. Wiggling in his arms in order to turn around and face him, you wrapped your arms around him as best as you could.

“What’s wrong, Dami?”

“Nothing.”

You dropped yourself onto your back, struggling to bring him in but ultimately succeeding. Damian sighed, shifting to be more comfortable as he laid his head on your bare chest.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled. Damian inhaled your scent, sighing in content — he was in his safe place. “I sometimes forget not everyone sees me the way you do.”

You supposed he was referring to Tim’s assumptions about him. “Does it bother you?”

“Only when they use it to try putting you against me.”

“You know they would never succeed, right?” You needed him to be aware of that.

“I do.”

“But?”

He moved to hover over you, fitting his legs between yours as he propped himself up with his elbows. “But it’s different when your ex does it. And no, I’m not jealous, I do trust you.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck. You understood what he meant, perfectly so. Damian had been there to pick up the pieces, he had helped you glue them together and even taught you to tweak them so the final piece would look better — with that, beautiful things had bloomed, but in between many tears had been shed on your behalf and many confessions had been made regarding your feelings in general; sprinkle in how hard it had been to process the fact that you had fallen for each other and you could understand where he was coming from. There was a piece of Damian in you, and there was a piece of you in him; at every level.

“It’s not relevant anymore, love,” you reminded him.

Damian caught your lips in a tender kiss, humming. “I just wish he wasn’t back.”

“He’ll be gone by tomorrow. And if he isn’t, I don’t care.” You started playing with his hair, unconsciously running your fingers up and down through his locks. “But I don’t want you to have a bad relationship with your brother because of me.”

“We’ve spoken about that.”

Damian had never been able to get along with Tim, his relationship with Dick was great and he had even built one with Jason, Cass was his favorite, and he had gotten to meet with Helena a few times. However, his resentment toward Tim heightened when you two started frequenting each other — he seemed to now despise him.

You tilted your head to pepper kisses over his jaw. “You’ll manage, Damian. You ignored him for years.”

Your boyfriend sighed dramatically, letting his weight gradually fall on top of you. Placing his hand on your cheek, he smirked before burying his face in your neck. “Besides,” Damian mumbled, “he’s not the one keeping you up tonight.”

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hateswifi · 4 years

Text

Rising from the Ashes: Of Second Meetings and Mysteries

So this is Part Six here is to my Master List and Part Five.

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

Marinette got up, went to work. Everything was normal a couple more customers than yesterday. Diana closed early because she was going to see family today she closed at three o’clock. After work, she headed home and ate a small snack before the driver arrived. She got into the car quietly and quickly

“Hello, Miss Marinette. I am Wayne’s butler and friend, Alfred Pennyworth,” Alfred said from the front.

“Hi, Monsieur Pennyworth. Thank you for the ride,” Marinette responded with a smile.

“It is no problem and please call me Alfred. That’s what the rest of the boys call me. Speaking of the boys, they're excited to see you again,” he said. Now ten minutes later they pull into a house, well not exactly a house but more like a mansion. The mansion was big, dark, and ominous. “Welcome to Wayne Manor, Miss Marinette. Please make yourself at home for the time you’re staying.”

“Thank you, Monsieur Alfred,” Marinette says, following him into the house. “Would you be able to show me where the last boy is? I’m sorry I was never told his name.”

“The young Master is this way, please follow,” Alfred said, walking down a long hallway. “Last time I saw all the boys were in the parlor. They were playing Ultimate Mega Strike Four. Have you heard of it?”

“I love that game! I grew up playing Ultimate Mega Strike Three. I also won the competition that my school participated in,” Marinette said, happily.

“Well they’re right in here,” Alred said, opening the door. “Boys, Miss Marinette is here. Damian, are you ready for your fitting?”

“Damian?” Marinette asks, looking closer at the boys. She realized it was her mystery first friend. She blushes remembering her conversation with Dick, Jason, and Todd. “You guys were with more for more than an hour yesterday and did it not cross your mind to tell me that he is your brother?”

“Nope. Did you say, Damian? Ohhhh… you mean Demon Spawn,” Jason smirked, wrapping an arm around Damian's shoulders.

“Marinette? You’re doing my measurements?” Damian asked shrugging off Jason’s arm.

“Diana asked me to come over after work, she’s visiting her family,” Marinette smiles. “You ready for me to take your measurements?”

“I’m sure he wants to give you more than just his measurements,” Dick laughs, Marinette blushes as Damian slaps him. “I meant your number, get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Come on we’ll go to my room,” Damian said, grabbing her arm. He leads her to his room, which is quite spacious. He stands in front of his floor length mirror.

“You know Dick was right about one thing,” Marinette said, measure his shoulder blades lightly touching his back.

“What… what is that, Angel?” Damian asked, turning his head towards the small girl.

“Angel?” Marinette squeaks, surprised by his nickname for her.

“Sadly, an angel without wings, but even after you got tackled by Titus you tried to pay for my meal,” he turned to look at her then leaned in a whispered. “Plus my brothers told me what you said about me.”

Marinette backs up flustered. “Well, you are incredibly nice, caring, and extremely handsome.” She says, wrapping the measuring tape around his chest to measure it, but was closer than she needed to be.

“Well what I wanted to give you the day we had breakfast was my number, but you ran off before I could give it to you,” she said, measuring his arm.

“I wanted to give you my number as well but Dick called me to remind me about a meeting,” he said, smiling. “Angel, I was disappointed when I left you. Dick suggested to do a modern Cinderella, but I was embarrassed, especially after what Jason posted.”

“What did Jason post?” Marinette asked, backing up so she could see his whole face.

“You didn’t see the picture? Oh right, you probably haven’t gotten into Gotham news yet,” Damian said. “He posted a picture of me holding a door open for you.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Marinette asked, crossing her arms.

“Well I’m famous because of my father and I’m seen as the ‘Ice Prince’ of Gotham because I’m cold to most people,” Damian explained.

“That’s what the guy at the grocery store meant,” Marinette realized. “I finished measuring you. I guess I should be going.”

“I overheard what you told Alfred in the hall, do you want to play Ultimate Mecha Strike and maybe stay for dinner? Umm… my brothers like having you around as do I,” Damian offered, grabbing one of her petite hands.

“That would be wonderful by the way can I see your phone before I forget?” Marinette asks. He gives her his phone, she types her number in once she hands it back he names her contact Angel. She gives him her phone so she can put his number in.

They walk out and join the rest of the boys, when they got there Dick was facing off against Tim. After a few minutes, Tim’s character died and Dick celebrates.

“Ok Dick, I’m going to beat you, but don’t be salty when you lose,” Marinette said, taking Tim’s controller then sits down next to Damian.

“Sunshine not gonna lie, I feel like I’m being threatened by a cupcake because those are some bold words coming from such a small person,” Dick says, nonchalantly.

She doesn’t respond, but once the game starts she knows that Dick realizes he’s about to eat his words. She’s better at the game than the boys thought she would be. After losing three times to Marinette, he grumbles at the loss and crosses his arms while sitting down on the couch, he was being overdramatic. The rest of the boys laugh at Dick’s antics.

“Damian, where’d you find your girlfriend?” Tim asks, shocked that someone had beaten Dick the master of games.

“First off, she’s not my girlfriend. Secondly, she’s from Paris,” Damian smiled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“Sure, you’re not dating at all,” Jason sarcastically replied with a snigger and an eye-roll.

Marinette’s phone ringing interrupted Damian before he could respond. She smiles widely; Adrien was video calling her. “Do you guys mind?” Marinette asks.

“Nope, not a problem. You can answer it right here if you want,” Jason said.

“Cool thanks guy,” Marinette smiles, brightly.

“Buginette! You promised to call!” Adrien exclaimed, putting his face super close to the camera.

“I had work today and yesterday. Plus you had school and countless other activities Gabriel has you doing,” Marinette justifies her actions.

“Mar calm down I’m messing,” Adrien laughs but stops hearing the game. “Are you playing Ultimate Mecha Strike without me!? Mewouch Buginette you wound me.”

“Calm down I was just kicking Dick’s butt,” Marinette laughs.

“This literally ray of sunshine killed me three times,” Dick cries, pushing his way into the frame.

“So this is one of my best friends and part of my family, his name is Adrien Agreste. This is Dick Grayson,” Marinette introduces.

“Take care of my Buginette,” Adrien says with a wave.

“I’ll take care of the literal sunshine that stumbled into all of our lives,” Dick smiles back as Tim and Jason come up behind the couch. Marinette moves her hand back so everyone, including Damian, is in the frame.

“Oh my gosh! Bug is that the boy you told Chloe about!” Adrien screamed, trying to point towards Damian, who still has his arm wrapped around her. Tim and Jason sat back down and Dick moved back to play more games.

“Chaton! Aren’t you and Kagami supposed to be at a match it is Thursday night,” Marinette asks, looking at the time: five.

“Bug, it’s already eleven here,” Adrien yawns falling onto his bed.

“That’s why I’m so tired,” Marinette yawns also.

“You should come home soon,” Adrien complains.

“I haven’t even been gone a week and while I’m there I don’t want to be someone I’m not,” Marinette sighs. “I’ll probably be back for Chinese New Year though to honor my parents. I’ll let you know when I have a plan.”

“Night Mar, just know Paris isn’t as bright with you not here,” Adrien says, sadly. “Luka misses you too. Chloe was angry, but it’s because she’s just dealing with it differently.”

“I understand bye Adrien love you. Hug everyone for me,” Marinette waves.

“Byeee!” He finishes as he hangs up.

Marinette puts her head on Damian’s shoulder.

“It’s good that you have supportive friends,” Damian states.

“Ya, I miss them a lot. Chloe got angry last night and hung up on me because she doesn’t deal with her sadness by getting angry almost like a self-defense mechanism. Luka is a mellow person, but I haven’t talked to him since Monday. Kagami is lovably awkward. I think she shuts down a bit with grief,” Marinette explains. She then stands up while saying. “I think I’m going to head to my apart because in Paris, as Adrien said, it’s quite late. Luckily for me, Diana is going into work later than normal because she returning from her family.”

“Can I show you the way out?” Damian asks, standing as well.

“That would be lovely,” Marinette said then turned to look at the rest of the boys as she left. “Bye guys it was nice seeing you again.”

“Wait, are you having someone drive you home?” Damian asks, catching her hand before she could walk out the now open door.

“I feel like walking. It’s been two weeks since I’ve been on a nice long walk. I’ll text you when I get home,” Marinette says, hugging Damian. She then waved as she walked out.

Once she was a good distance away from the manor she transformed. She loved the feeling of wind in her hair. She swung up to the tallest building, Wayne Enterprises, and sat on top looking over the foreign city. Not long after she looked over the city she heard footsteps land and crunch in the snow behind.

She jumps up and is in a fighting position as she demands. “Announce yourself.”

“I could say the same to you,” a deep voice says from the other side of the building that was somehow shadowy.

“Stop it, be nice,” another voice answers, then steps into view. “I’m Red Hood.”

“I’m Ladybug,” Marinette responds, dropping her stance. The other person steps into view. “You look like a traffic light. Seriously? Who wears yellow, green, red, and black?”

“Hey! That’s was my suit design!” Nightwing tries to defend himself.

“How old were you when you designed it,” Marinette deadpanned, crossing her arms.

“Twelve,” the traffic light boy said. “Wearing this costume is a right of passage and the name is Robin. Your concept isn’t much better. Seriously a ladybug?”

“Master chose to give me this miraculous; I didn’t have a choice. But I’m quite fond of the spots thought and I’m pretty sure I needed Tikki’s luck back when I first got the miraculous,” Marinette said, backing up. “Well, it was nice meeting you guys.” She then jumped off the building. Robin and Nightwing ran to the edge and saw her catch herself with her yo-yo.

“A yo-yo? Is she an actual child?” Robin sighed. “Do we even know if she is a hero?”

“Red Robin, Ladybug is her name. Find out everything you can about her,” Nightwing states into his comm.

They finished their patrol quickly and headed back to the manor. He received a text from his Angel that told him that she made it home fine.

Tim has information on the hero when they made to the Batcave. “She is from Paris.”

“Was she one of the heroes that banned all supers from entering Paris?” Jason asks, pulling up a chair, he sat back facing the computer with his leg on either side. He had come to the Batcave when he had heard of the new to Gotham hero.

“Yes that was her and for good reason,” Tim says while pulling up the video. “This announcement made a little over two and a half years ago.”

A young Ladybug stood in front of Le Grand Paris Hotel while speaking into the crowd and cameras. “To all supers, we had previously reached out to, we no longer want any help from any superheroes besides the ones of either Chat Noir or my own choosing.’

“If akumatized, we don’t know how we would deal with superpowers on top of Hawkmoth’s powers. For the good of Paris do not enter here till further notice,” Chat Noir says. “Not only would the power be unbearable, but Hawkmoth would also know everything you know, including any secret identities. Thank you for all of your patients, have a good rest of your day,” he finishes before him and the young Ladybug jump off the scene.

“They look so young,” Dick says, leaning on the back of Tim’s chair.

“That’s because they were that young. Ladybug, now, couldn’t be any older than me. That means that, if Chat Noir is the same age, they started with this Hawkmoth bull when they were thirteen or fourteen. That god damn city put their faith in teenagers barely in high school,” Damian says, looking closer at the video.

“That’s not right,” Dick says, shaking his head.

“At least we had the choice, but who chooses to be a city’s only hope against the unknown?” Jason says, putting his head on his hands that were resting on the chair’s back.

“They recently defeated the terrorist, who was a miraculous holder named Hawkmoth. He had been terrorizing Paris for three years. Her partners’ names are Chat Noir, Ryuko, Viperon, and Queen Bee, they still do patrols and help with petty crimes. She had more partners, now retired never told why, but their names were Carapace and Rena Rouge, they haven’t been seen in two years. Chat Noir gave a statement earlier this week saying that Ladybug has left, but would be back sometimes or if Paris was in danger. She was last seen at a house fire of the Dupain-Cheng’s house and Bakery all people died. Only two bodies were found,” Tim summed up, looking at his brothers.

“What’s Marinette’s last name?” Jason asked, looking at Damian.

“Dupain-Cheng? But she said she was an only child,” Damian thought sitting down in a chair beside Tim.

“She is by these pictures, but it says three dead,” Tim said pulling up the picture of her family standing out front of the bakery, this was back when she wore her hair in pigtails.

“She said she didn’t want to talk about her past during the measurements,” Jason said. “Does everyone think she’s dead?”

“That’s true, right here, an article says all the Dupain-Chengs died in the fire two weeks ago on Saturday and were buried last week Sunday,” Tim said, scrolling through the article.

“But she’s clearly alive, why would she move?” Jason asked, standing

“But more importantly there’s a connection between her and Ladybug. Wait… blue hair and eyes, petite figure. They were both last seen, well accounted for at the fire” Damian said.

“They’re the same person, both from Paris and they were last seen around the same time. Both, Ladybug and Marinette, had a reason to run even if we don’t know what that reason is just yet,” Tim said.

“Seriously, even Damian’s girlfriend is special? Why can’t we meet normal people?” Jason said, throwing up his hands and left the Batcave.

“I’ll ask her about it next time I see her,” Damian said, leaving the Batcave as well.

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

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Tag list (Open):

@northernbluetongue @melhuney @ladysblackcat @sturchling @otaku4312 @g-arya @smolplantmum @bluefyoto94 @echpr @moonlightstar64 @thesunanditsangel @cutechip @heaven428 @elmokingkong @kass-is-weird @niza13149 @urbanpineapplefarmer @ginamarie1512 @chocolatecatstheron @iggy-of-fans @crazylittlemunchkin @komatsuna-yuki @weird-pale-blonde-person @ellerahs @sinnamonroill @daminett4life

#ml new life au #ml salt fic #lila salf #batfam #maribat #daminette #damian x marinette #marinette x batfam #ml x dc #wifiwrites

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peterxwade24 · 4 years

Text

BWYD Chapter 4

Marinette Runs Away

Bruce woke up the next morning, a mostly grey blanket pulled over his body and at least two pairs of eyes staring at him. He felt a smile tug at his lips before he peeked one of his eyes open, he saw a pair of green eyes and a pair of blue eyes staring at him. He scrunched up his nose and stuck out his tongue at his youngest two children. "What are you two monsters doing?"

They looked at each other before laughing. "Waiting for you to wake up."

Bruce let a smile bloom on his face before looking at his youngest daughter. "Mon Chou? Can you be a big girl and go wake up your brothers for me?"

Marinette nodded before she darted away to go start waking up the other four.

Bruce looked at Damian before he sat up and patted the spot next to him, indicating for the young boy to join him. "When did you realize she wasn't all that we made her out to be?"

Damian tapped his chin for a moment, emulating Tim when he was doing a crossword puzzle, before he turned to look at his father. "I think it was back when she was still only speaking in French. I saw some marks on her back that I just assumed were from Alfred the cat."

Bruce nodded and smiled at his youngest son. "Before you think she set the place on fire, I think a minion of one of the villains set fire to the bakery because they knew she'd called us in. It could have also been one of the villains themselves because they didn't like that we'd been called in." He looked up when he heard the tell-tale footfalls of his oldest son. "We'll talk more later, okay?"

Dick strode out of the room he shared with Duke, Duke just a few seconds later, before Marinette zipped across the room to wake up Jason.

Duke slumped down on the end of the couch and finished tying his shoes before looking over at Bruce. "Do you want coffee?"

Bruce nodded, combing his fingers through his hair, before answering Duke. "Black, cream, no sugar."

Duke rolled his eyes and nodded. “I know how you take your coffee B.” Duke looked over at Dick as he walked out of the bathroom. “You want coffee?”

Dick nodded before he scooped up Damian and settled into his spot beside Bruce. “Thanks.”

---

Marinette looked around the park, her eyes filling with tears when she didn’t see any of her brothers or father Bruce. Her eyes continued to search the park, catching a glimpse of green eyes. Marinette took off for the boy with the green eyes, not noticing his blond hair or pale skin.

The boy let Marinette cling to his arm, noticing how frightened she looked and walked with his mother back to their house.

“Remember Adrien, your father is at the main office today so we have to be careful where we-” Emilie looked over at her son, noticing the tagalong he picked up, “hello there. Where did you come from?”

Marinette looked up at the woman, noticing her companions’ blond hair, and felt the tears well up in her eyes. “I got lost.” The woman stooped down to Marinette’s level and offered her a gentle smile.

“Let’s get back to our house and see if you can remember your parents’ phone number.”

The three walked back to Agreste Manor, which was much smaller than Wayne Manor, and Emile led Marinette into Gabriel’s office.

“I’ll be right back. Adrien still gets lost on his way to his bedroom.” Emilie pressed a kiss to Marinette’s forehead before taking Adrien’s hand and leading him to his bedroom.

In their absence, Marinette took to looking around the room. She noticed a large painting of the blonde woman on the wall and, while trying to get a closer look, accidentally caused it to swing open. She looked at the two broaches, one looking like a butterfly and the other looking like a peacock, and an old looking book. She grabbed the three items and, upon hearing footsteps coming towards the office, stashed the items in the black bag she had at her side.

Emilie walked into the office and smiled at the young girl. “Okay, do you live here in Paris or elsewhere?”

Marinette looked up at the blonde haired woman, “we live in Gotham. But we’re here visiting my friends.”

Emilie smiled and walked over to the phone placed on her husband’s desk. “Do you remember where you’re staying in Paris?”

Marinette smiled up at the blonde woman. “We’re staying at Le Grande Paris!”

Emilie nodded and dialed the number for Le Grande Paris. It rang three times before someone picked up the phone. “Hi, this is Emilie Agreste. I found a child while at the-”

“Did you say child? About three feet tall, blue-black hair with the cutest blue eyes you’ve ever seen?” A gruff man’s voice rang out from the other line. “Hair is pulled up into space buns tied with black and blue striped ribbons?”

“Yes, yes. Monsieur. She’s fine. A little teary-eyed but perfectly fine.” Emilie offered the girl a smile. “We can meet you in the lobby of the hotel in ten to twenty minutes.”

“Please just bring my daughter back safe.” The man on the other end of the line hung up and Emilie rolled her eyes.

“Come on Little One, let’s go collect Adrien.”

The two walked up the stairs to collect Adrien, who had changed into different clothing, before walking out of the manor.

---

The trio were about three blocks away from the hotel when Marinette looked up and saw a small massage parlor. She stopped walking, causing her two blonde companions to stop walking, and Emilie looked down at her before looking at where Marinette was looking. “We can stop for a second but we have to get you back to your Father soon.”

Marinette’s face screwed up at the word. Father. Bruce wasn’t her father, he was… He was Bruce. She nodded and led her two blonde companions to the massage parlor. She let go of Emilie’s hand and opened the door. The massage parlor smelled like the kitchen in Wayne Manor and put Marinette at ease.

A short Chinese man stood behind the counter, looking over the people who had just walked in. His eyes going to the bag at the girl’s side before going back to her eyes. He saw something in her eyes that reminded him of MariAnne before looking at her blonde companions. “You look like you have someplace to be. Would you like to call to let whomever you’re meeting know that you may be a little late?”

Emilie nodded with a smile. “Thank you.” Emilie used the phone to call Le Grande Paris, Adrien clinging to her leg.

Marinette looked up when the short Chinese man extended his hand to her. “I think I have something that would interest you.” Marinette nodded and held his hand in her’s, letting him lead her to the next room.

---

Marinette looked up as they walked into the lobby of the hotel. She gasped and ran at her brothers. “Oiseau bleu! Jay-Jay! Tim-Tam! Oiseau jaune! Damian!”

Emilie stood by the doors, watching the young girl be reunited with her brother’s. She noticed the large black haired man standing off to the side as the six siblings reunited. “You must be her father.” Emilie extended her hand to the man with a smile.

“Thank you for finding her.” Bruce nodded at the blonde woman. “I’m Bruce Wayne. Thank you for bringing her back to us.”

Emilie had a sudden shock as she looked over the group of six siblings, noticing that they were in father THE Wayne family. “Of course,” her voice didn’t betray the nerves she felt simmering under the surface, “she was really sweet.”

Bruce nodded and handed Emilie a business card. “She’s the only one who’s sweet.”

---

The Wayne family relaxed in the living room in their house, two days later, all nine kids together for the first time in a long time.

Cass looked over at Marinette and noticed the black studs in her ears. “Did you get new jewelry while you were in Paris, Mini?”

Marinette smiled at her sister, watching as her other sisters finally noticed the new earrings. “Yeah.”

Dick, sitting next to Barbara, noticed her earring too and noticed that Marinette had started incorporating more red into her outfits. “What’s up Tiny Bat?”

“Nothing.”

---

Nightwing was on patrol, looking over the city when he saw a red blur move in the direction of the Manor. “Bats, we may have a situation.”

Batman’s gravelly voice came over the comm. “Nightwing, report.”

“Red blur moving in the direction of the Manor. Appears to be swinging.” Nightwing took off after the blur. “In pursuit.”

He watched as the blur landed on a building towards the edge of the property and landed on the roof behind her. He watched as she turned around at the barely-there noise of his feet on the rooftop.

Her eyes widened behind her red and black spotted mask, eyes that Dick swore he knew. But, he watched as she launched something, a yoyo, off in the opposite direction and disappeared from sight.

“Uh… Bats. Who’s at home right now?”

“Hood, Signal, and Orphan.”

Dick pulled out his phone and called Jason, who picked up after a few rings. “Hey, Jaybird. Is Tiny Bat there?”

“She’s in her room, why?”

“Can you double check?”

---

Ladybug sat in the cave, her head hanging with a blindfold tied over her eyes. She could hear the familiar footfalls of all of her siblings and her father Bruce and she tried not to squirm.

“What were you thinking?” Tim, Red Robin, demanded. “It’s dangerous out there!”

She let their voices wash over her, their concern and accusations falling on deaf ears. Angrily, she pulled the blindfold off and, with tears in her eyes, she stared down every single one of her siblings. “I was thinking I would help. I was thinking that I was tired of being lied to!”

Damian, Robin, stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders. “She deserved to know the truth.”

Dick whirled on Damian, his anger bubbling up to the surface. “You told her!”

“Don’t yell at him! He just confirmed what I thought I knew!” Her hands slammed down to her sides, causing tiny ladybug wings to appear on her back forcing Damian to step to the side, while she stared down her oldest brother. “I can take care of myself! I’ve lived through the destruction of my home and my family!”

Marinette watched the hurt flash through her siblings Bruce’s kids’ eyes. She turned away from them all and ran out of the Manor. She never thought the Mantle of Ladybug would weigh so much.

@dast218

#maribat #ml crossover #mlb x dc #mlb crossover #ml x dc #marinette deserves the world #bruce and kids upset bb mari #damian is a good brother #bruce wayne's youngest daughter

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sansonrio · 4 years

Text

Seventeen

It’s the third day in a row that Tim wakes up to a pounding in his head, phone clutched loosely in his hand.

He gazes blearily at the open door to his closet; suits and ties thrown hastily on hangers, shoes half falling out onto the floor of his bedroom, a single sock mysteriously poking out from underneath his suitcase and he begins to wonder when he let himself fall so far.

Tim drops his phone and turns onto his back, pulling the duvet over his head and pretending he doesn’t actually have to get out of bed, Bruce can handle it, right–

His phone buzzes from the floor. Tim chooses to ignore it, knowing that if he can’t have this one day to himself then he might as well quit. It takes all of his willpower to leave the device alone but after ten seconds the buzzing stops and Thank god, it’s so loud against the wood floor–

He jumps the second time his phone buzzes. Tim’s a one-and-done kind of guy, so if someone’s calling twice he figures it must be important.

Practically falling off the bed, Tim snatches the phone from off the floor.

“Hello?” he answers and cringes at how his voices breaks.

There’s a pause from the other end, then “Tim?”

And he can’t help the sigh that escapes, wishing he could hang up, turn the phone off, and force himself back asleep like it would solve something. He lays back down, blinks the rest of the sleep out of his eyes.

“Dick? Why are you calling me at–” he holds the device in front of him to check the time, “–three on a Monday morning?”

The line goes silent, long enough Tim thinks he was hung-up on when he hears a muffled swear and… running?

“Sorry, currently ah– working,” Dick responds, and Tim hates the way he can tell the other man’s smiling. A siren, far below Tim’s window, passes by, and he’s distracted so he only catches the end of what Dick’s saying. “–thinking I could stop by, if that’s fine?”

Tim scrambles out of his bed, suddenly recognizing why he hears the same siren through the phone. He whips around to the balcony outside of his bedroom and half expects to see the shadow of a person.

“Now?” he hisses, lowering his voice. “Are you– are you actually crazy?”

Dick laughs, “You know, you’re not the first person to ask me that. Be there in 5,” and hangs up. Running a hand through his hair, Tim tosses the phone onto his bed. He’d usually run to the bathroom and make himself into some semblance of put together-ness, but this is three-in-the-morning Tim and this Tim has zero expectations for himself, caped crusaders be damned.

He only jumps a little when there’s a soft thud coming from outside; he squeezes his eyes shut, thankful he lives in the part of town where billboard lights don’t shine down every alley, allowing certain persons to slip down fire escapes without so much a glance from passersby.

A light tapping on his window forces him to get up, making sure each movement looks as sluggish as he feels. Before he even has the chance to dig his fingers under the decaying window, Dick– now Nightwing– forces it open and slips in alongside a cool breeze. Tim blinks slowly, huffs and tries to force the panes back down before giving up and deciding the night air feels nice.

He turns back, surprised when he finds the door to his bedroom open, light from the kitchen spilling down the hallway. Taking a deep breath for what feels like too many deep breaths for one night, he stalks out of his room.

There’s a clinking sound that Tim can only imagine is the sound of Dick rummaging through his refrigerator.

“You know,” he starts, rounding the corner to his kitchen, “you’re all starting to become the reason why I have to grocery shopping three times a week. Three. The cashier thinks I dump it all into the river.”

“Oh?” Dick keeps his back to him. “Tell Bruce. You know he’s itching to give you a raise.”

Tim rolls his eyes. “That’s not the point. Like, at all.”

“Or–” Dick looks back at Tim smirking, his hands still working on whatever food he’d grabbed. “–you could tell us to stop.”

“And would that work?”

Dick laughs but doesn’t say anything else.

Tim notices a discarded mask on his counter. Dick doesn’t– hasn’t ever taken off his mask when in costume. Not in front of Tim, at least. Figuring Dick would explain, Tim sluggishly moves to sit at his kitchen table; he picks the metal folding chair he’d found on the side of the road when he first moved in.

Grabbing two glasses from a cupboard above the sink, Dick moves throughout Tim’s kitchen like it’s his own (they all do, really. Tim doesn’t mind). He sets one by Tim and sits down across from him in the only other chair at the table.

Tim, absentmindedly playing with the condensation on the glass, yawns.

“So,” he starts, watching Dick stretch his arms behind his head, “to what do I owe the honor of your presence?”

Dick smiles back. “Aww, must a guy need a reason to see a good friend?”

“If he’s visiting that friend at three in the morning, then yeah, I think he does.” And Dick laughs again as he runs a hand through his hair; if Tim didn’t feel like he could pass out right there at the table, he’d probably laugh too. He settles for an amused look, waiting for the other man to say something else. After a couple of seconds pass, Dick raises his hands as if in surrender.

“Alright, alright, this isn’t just a social visit,” and he pauses, winks at Tim, “But you are funny when you’re tired. You should see your face.”

Tim rolls his eyes again but thinks he probably wouldn’t be mad even if it was. Probably.

Dick sighs, and suddenly looks at Tim with a kind of pity; it’s the kind of look Tim’s been getting used to over the past year. The change in mood puts him on edge, and if it were anyone besides Dick he wouldn’t be suspicious. Tim can’t help the twitch in his eye but doesn’t say anything. He lowers his gaze to his glass, suddenly ashamed.

“We’re… worried about you, all of us,” Dick says, head cocked to the side as if unsure where to start. “You know.”

It dawns on Tim why he’s here. He curls in on himself and feels a flush arise on his cheeks. Not now. Please, not now. The other man never gives up on a mission, though, so Tim waits.

The silence doesn’t last long– Dick breaks it first. “Bruce told me things have been… busy. With the holidays, and all. He asked if I’d spoken with you recently.”

Tim looks up at that, annoyed at himself for being surprised. The somber look Dick gives him doesn’t help. He raises an eyebrow, “And?”

“And,” Dick draws it out, looking away from Tim, “I told him no. But he wanted me to. Come here, I mean.” He leans his chin on his hand, gaze awkward but steady as he meets Tim’s. “To extend an invitation.”

And now Tim’s confused. “A what?”

A small smile appears on Dick’s face, a little sad.

“An invitation. For you. To come spend the holidays with us.”

Tim frowns, grasping at straws as to why Dick would come just to ask him that.

“We see each other at work every day. Why wouldn’t Bruce just ask me then?” He scowls, slumps further into his chair. It’s… not the first time he’s been asked, actually. But to Tim, it’s always been a sort of formality, done more out of politeness than sincerity.

“He thinks you don’t take him seriously.”

He huffs, giving Dick a look that says, Really?

“Bruce Wayne asks me to spend Christmas with his family and I’m supposed to take him seriously?”

“Yes!” Dick nearly shouts, holding his hands out like he wants to shake Tim.

The reaction throws Tim off; he stares back at Dick, eyebrows furrowed, as the other man leans back in his chair and rubs his face.

Another siren comes blasting along one of Gotham’s streets and Tim flinches, grateful Dick had been too distracted looking out the window to see it. The two sit without saying a word as more red and blue lights swing their way across the apartment.

Dick, still not looking at him, says, “I’m sorry.”

Counting the cars that pass, Tim startles when a gentle hand on his wrist breaks him from his train of thought; he realizes his hand is cramping from his vice-like grip on his glass. He breathes, pulls each finger slowly away from the moisture that’s built up.

“You’ve been through a lot his past year,” Tim meets Dick’s eyes. “And I would never want to make this decision for you.”

It’s been nearly a year since his father passed and Tim did everything in his power to keep the thought out of his head. He was still working on how to prove himself a capable adult; he just… hasn’t had the time to think about anything else.

The implications of Dick’s request aren’t lost on him.

“Dick, I–” and Tim doesn’t know where he’s going with this. “You all have done so much for me. More than I could’ve ever expected, really.” He rubs a hand through his hair now, too, realizes he’s picked up Dick’s habit. “I don’t think I could– I mean, really, I couldn’t–” Stupid, stupid, stupid

“Tim,” Dick softly interjects, reaching across and grabs his hand, and suddenly it’s hard for Tim to look at him so he turns away.

He’s briefly aware of Dick crossing the table, bending to hold him, and wishes he couldn’t feel the warm streaks of tears down his face. It’s too much, he thinks, everything, all at once. He’s well-versed in the world of pity– he’s going on six years of living in it. But this… Too much.

It’s been a few minutes, and Tim knows it must be uncomfortable for Dick, standing the way he is, but neither move. He sniffles– hates it, but he can’t help it– and he’s being squeezed tighter before Dick sits back on his heels and holds him at arm’s length.

“It’s your choice.”

Tim nods.

“I won’t force you into anything. But we will always have a space for you, if you want it,” the sincerity in Dick’s voice makes something in Tim hurt. “And Alfred’s cookies might just be the best on the planet, so.”

Tim looks up at him and laughs, even with the few remaining tears sliding out.

Dick stands and smiles back, the kind of smile Tim thinks he’s the only one capable of giving. He offers his hand to Tim, who takes it, confused, and is promptly pulled into another one of Dick Grayson’s signature bear-hugs.

“Call me, Tim,” Tim hears from above him. “Or text. Whatever. Just talk to me, okay?”

Tim nods again, taking in as much of the hug as he can before they let go.

Dick grabs his mask off the counter, making his way over to one of the windows and pulling it open.

“Oh!” Dick says, startling Tim, “Almost forgot something!” and makes his way back to the kitchen. He grabs the uneaten sandwich he’d made and quickly pinches one of Tim’s cheeks, who swats the hand away with mock annoyance.

Halfway out the window, Dick looks back at Tim.

“Take care, Tim. I hope to see you soon.”

And Tim… thinks that he will.

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ibroughtanarsenal · 4 years

Text

jailhouse rocks (lol ok).

WHO: Roy @ibroughtanarsenal and Jason @thatsjasonfkntodd WHERE: SCPD Jail WHEN: May 19th 2020 WHAT: Roy visits Jason in jail and is basically an asshole the whole time.

Jason: Jason had not actually been a hundred percent confident that Roy would come to the jail to see him, given his insistence that he was going to stay angry. Obviously he’d hoped that he would. Steph and Dick couldn’t be the only people that would show, surely. He’d sent the note back for Tim, but that didn’t mean much. He could be petty as hell.

When he got word that he had a visitor coming, he vaguely wondered if he was getting more Mad Libs. Roy was a welcome change. Jason gave him a lazy smile as soon as he saw him. “I wondered if you’d show.” Roy: "Me too." Roy still wasn't happy about the situation. He sighed and slumped in his hair, his hands in his pockets. There was a hollow look to him that didn't seem quite right. His hands were shoved in his pockets, but he could still feel them shaking. The last two days he tried several things to get his mind off the situation, but at the end of the day he knew there was only one thing that could.

He'd lost hours. Still, he made it to the jail the next day with a hoodie, not unusual for him even tough it was hot out. "Just wanted to see you. I figured you've been getting enough lectures." Jason: Jason tried not to focus on the fact that Roy looked exhausted. He knew that he wasn’t going to be happy, that the last few days had probably sucked completely. It wasn’t like Jason’s case had any kind of trajectory or timeline yet. He had no idea how long he was going to be in there or what, really, he had put himself up against. And if he didn’t know, neither did Roy.

“Yeah,” he said, the smile slipping a little, “me too.” He missed him, but that felt shitty of him to say when he was the only reason they were having to see each other in the visiting area. “And I’ve had a few. Talk to me about literally anything else.” Despite himself, Jason was looking at him harder than he wanted to. Had he slept? Roy: "Um..." There was a slower responsive time than usual. Roy wasn't being his usual rapid-fire self. Dick noticed it too, but he'd been able to convince him it was depression. He was still going to work. He was still functioning. It annoyed him that Dick insisted on giving him rides there and back as if he were a little kid. In reality, was eager to escape his scrutinizing looks. "I have a new stalker." He smirked, reaching up to idly scratch his arms as if he were restless. "Dick talks way too much." Roy did too, he sometimes talked even more, but not likely. "How's prison life?" Jason: “A new one, huh? How many have you had?” Jason didn’t bother to say that he’d asked Dick to look after Roy. There was no way for him to convey that information without it coming out the wrong way, like he thought that Roy had needed a babysitter. It wasn’t that simple but he couldn’t have explained it to him. It was easier to not mention it. “You knew that already. He dies if he stops talking.”

Jason told himself as he continued to look at him that he had to just be exhausted. Was that it? He needed that to be it. It had only been two days ahead of many. Roy: Normally Roy would have a quick and solid comeback, or make a comment about how being irresistible was a gift and a curse, but too much time passed for it to be funny and he just shrugged instead. "Pretending to be asleep doesn't even work." He saw Dick when he got off work, they hung out for a few hours and played video games. Once Roy went to bed and closed the door so he'd get the hint, Dick finally would leave. Sometimes he found him crashed on the couch in the morning, but thankfully that was rare.

"Did you ask him to keep an eye on me or something?" It wasn't that Dick didn't visit, but this was a little excessive. Jason: “I asked him to take care of my dog, so unless you’re my dog, this is just Dick being Dick.” He shouldn’t lie to him, but Roy already had enough reason to be pissed at him without feeling like Jason had put a leash on him, too. He wasn’t going to make it worse.

Jason ran his hand along the back of his neck. He probably could’ve gone the whole visit without asking, but now he had an uncomfortable question to deflect and ask, so he went with the latter. “Are you okay? You look...tired.” Roy: Roy sighed and rolled his eyes. He knew Jason was right. Still, he hated it. He didn't want Dick to see him right now, because Dick saw what he was like before. The right thing to do would be to tell him what was going on, but even though they were older now a part of him shrank away from Dick's judgment, even though he'd seen him at his worst.

"Not exactly easy to sleep when I'm worried about you every goddamn second." He was agitated and it showed, but there were plenty of reasons for it. Jason: Was it going to get harder or easier? If he was in there for a few months, was month two going to be as hard as day two or worse? He’d been doing fine, really, on his end, and seeing Steph and Dick hadn’t been that bad, but Roy looked rough and it sucked knowing it was his fault. Not only his fault, but actively his choice.

“I’m alright,” he told him, taking on a rather uncharacteristic role of the person being placating. It wasn’t like there was anything else he could do. “You don’t have to worry.” Roy: "That's bullshit and you know it." Despite the words, Roy's tone wasn't angry. He just sounded exhausted. Sad. "I have every reason to worry." It wasn't like him to turn to the negative unless he was stressed. Those were the rare moments when shared doubts and insecurities, but not everyone got to hear it.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he crossed his arms on the table. "I just want you out." Jason: “You don’t. If I didn’t think I could keep this under control, I wouldn’t have done it. Come on, Roy. I didn’t walk in here to die again.” He wasn’t taking that kind of risk, even if maybe it looked like he was, and even if once in awhile some thoughts crept in that if it happened it would just be the universe correcting itself. Mostly, he didn’t believe that anymore. Mostly. Sometimes it just removed some self preservation instincts he might have had otherwise.

He kept watching him even as Roy closed his eyes. He wanted to reach out and touch him, but of course that wasn’t an option. “...Soon. I’ll be out as soon as I can.” Roy: "Stop placating me like I'm five. You can't control anything when you're behind bars. You have no control over anything. You handed it over the second you confessed." The prosecutor had the control now and he would be deciding what to do with Jason. "You're just another cog in this whole system." Roy's lack of understanding for Jason's reasoning would normally justify some of his anger, at least on a rational level, but right now his frustration felt out of his control. He just knew he wanted Jason out of here.

He laughed softly. After being involved with Deathstroke's trial as a Titan, he knew how long trials lasted. "Yeah, see you in a year or two." Jason: Jason went quiet. He’d been arguing with everyone and been angry at everyone and he didn’t want to do it with Roy, too, especially when there wasn’t a way to see him afterward. Not on his terms, anyway. He’d expected irritation from him, but not quite the bitterness and exhaustion right at the beginning.

“I’m not going to be in here that long,” he said after a stretch of silence. He knew they didn’t have long, that he couldn’t just sit there the rest of the time, so he pressed on. “I just need you to trust me.” Roy: Roy knew immediately that he'd taken it too far. Jason's silence left his own words lingering in the air between them. He winced and leaned his forehead against the palm of his hand. "I'm sorry." What he said was shitty and he would own up to that, especially because I knew why he was on edge. It made him feel even more guilty.

This time he didn't argue with him, even though Jason asking for his trust didn't seem fair in light of an impossible circumstance. Then again, it could be that he already had a plan he couldn't talk about here. "I do trust you," he murmured softly. "I'm just... worried." Jason: “I wouldn’t have done this if I didn’t think I could handle it.” He thought better of that for a second and added, “You can, too. It’s a few months and I’ll be out.” One way or another, just like he’d said. “I’m not trying to fuck this all up again.” Him and Roy. If he hadn’t believed that they could make the through the prison stint, then he might have considered longer whether or not he should do it, but he’d decided (for once) to be a little optimistic. Had that been completely misplaced? Roy: Instead of the first thing that popped into his head, Roy bit the tip of his tongue and didn't respond. He knew Jason couldn't just handle the court system, but if he intended not to go through any of that at all, then he couldn't exactly explain that here. "Depends on the trial. You know how they drag things out. Deathstroke sure as hell isn't taking a plea." That ramped up the amount of time it would take. Roy knew this dance. "You didn't fuck it up, I'm just not going to jump up and down for joy that you're behind bars." Jason: “I’m just a couple of days into this. If I don’t know how it’s going to go, you don’t either.” And Jason was stubbornly stuck on the idea that it was going to work the way he envisioned it. If it didn’t, what recourse did he have? “I’m not asking you to jump for joy, I’m just...” he ran his tongue out between his lips and looked away from him for a few seconds. “Nevermind. I’m alright. I’m going to come out on the other side of this.” Roy: Roy wasn’t discounting Jason’s point of view entirely, but the situation was looking pretty grim. Regardless, he didn’t come here to fight or make him feel worse. There was nothing to be done about it now and he took a breath. “I’ll still be here when you do. It doesn’t matter how long it takes. I’d just rather it be sooner rather than later.” Jason: “Me too.” They could at least agree on that point. Jason was giving Gordon and the lawyers what they wanted as quickly as he could do it, but he had no way to move anything beyond that. He hoped that with enough in rapid succession, the rest of the process would happen quickly, too. Maybe he’d be proved wrong, but they weren’t far enough in to know that yet.

Whatever light heartedness that he’d started the visit with had faded by then. “Take care of yourself until I get out of here, okay?” Was there a reason that Dick had been sticking to him like glue, judging by how Roy talked?

They didn’t have much longer before the buzzer. The visit felt shorter than it had with Steph, but maybe that was just because it had been heavier than he was expecting. “I love you,” he said in that last space of time. The words still felt a little unnatural but not wrong. He just wasn’t thrilled to be saying them in that position. Roy: “Doubt you’re going anywhere any time soon,” Roy said wryly, but he didn’t sound angry. He’d already added himself to the list of callers. Apparently that took a day to get approved, but still, it wasn’t as if they wouldn’t talk. Being without Jason after they’d just reconnected was hardly ideal, but he’d also been without him for years. It wasn’t as if his feelings were changing any time soon.

He tried to smile, but the effort fell flat. For once he wasn’t in the mood to joke. “Roy Careful Harper.” It was what Jason said when he told him the same thing. An answer, but not.

Fuck, that buzzer. Something in his expression wavered when Jason said he loved him and Roy leaned forward, his hand moving to the bars that separated them. “I love you too. And I’m on your call list now, so keep me up to date on all the crazy shit that goes on in here. Nothing like a little jailhouse drama.”

#c: discord #jason todd #roy harper

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iatethepomegranate · 5 years

Text

Homecoming Chapter 25

Masterlist

Pairing: DickTiger

Rating: Teen (this chapter)

Length: 3.3k

Summary: Tiger gets his communicator and an existential crisis. Dick gets a phone call. They also carpool into the city for a debrief and an appointment.

Notes: Can someone other than me please post in the DickTiger omg I’m trying to keep a weekly schedule but it looks like I’m taking over

Warnings: anxiety, allusions to the torture

****

Chapter 25

“Here you go.” Tim passed Tiger an earpiece. “All yours.”

“I still can’t believe Bruce literally offered to give you one,” said Stephanie. “Is he okay?”

Tiger looked at Dick. “Well? Is he okay?”

Dick snorted, which had always been oddly endearing. “I mean, he’s being nice which is always weird but I’m pretty sure he’s fine.”

Tiger pressed the earpiece into place. Tim passed him a wrist computer disguised as a watch, which he used to tune the communicator to his first Spyral frequency.

“Dick asked nicely,” Jason said. “Of course he gave it to you.”

“I didn’t actually ask Bruce to give Tiger a communicator,” Dick corrected. “I just insisted we include Helena.”

“Same thing.”

“And I wasn’t fucking nice about it.”

Jason laughed. Dick glared. No one took him seriously.

“It’s cute when he tries to be serious,” said Stephanie.

“No, it is laughable,” said Damian.

Tiger left Dick to the mercy of his siblings and stepped into the hallway. He called Helena, who answered immediately.

“There you are. I was wondering if you’d forgotten about me.”

“You are a hard woman to forget,” Tiger replied.

“Aw, is Dick teaching you how to charm a lady?”

“Do you find him charming? I do not.”

“You’re fooling nobody,” Helena replied.

Tiger resisted the temptation to retort. “I have arranged a meeting with Checkmate next Thursday at thirteen hundred hours in Gotham City.”

“During the day? Huh.”

“Which means most of my current associates will not be available to provide backup.”

“So you’re asking me? I’m flattered.”

“Helena.”

“Relax. I’m available. I’ll get in touch with your people and arrange logistics.”

“My people?”

“Your boyfriend’s people. His father specifically.”

“I knew that.”

“No, you didn’t.” Helena chuckled. “I’ll see you on Thursday.” She ended the call.

Tiger leaned against the wall behind him. He did not know how he felt about returning to Checkmate, only that it caused an unpleasant jittering sensation in his stomach.

Actually, he did know how he felt about it: awful.

Tiger had not been a standard agent for years. Now that his undercover mission was over, he did not feel a need to return to the way things had been before.

Even though his hands shook whenever he touched a gun and he hadn’t had a good night’s rest in so long he’d lost count, he would not trade that for a return to life before the Spyral mission. The realisation felt strange. Losing the ability to take orders and carry them out, no questions asked, no sleep lost… it felt like he’d lost a part of himself. A part of his identity.

And yet…

If he compared how he felt now to how he’d felt before going undercover…

Strange.

He was happier now. In an odd way. Checkmate had recruited him from Afghanistan when he was barely eighteen. He’d been old enough to fight, old enough to have a fearsome reputation, and yet…

He’d been so young.

So confused.

He was still confused today, but about different things. Perhaps confusion was a part of who he was. Well, at least that hadn’t changed, even if the source of his confusion had.

The young Tiger King of Kandahar had hidden his confusion, his uncertainty, behind fighting. There had always been someone to defend, or someone to punish. He’d taken the name given to him for his deeds in the place of his birth and fashioned it into a mask. Armour. That title became his identity. It still was, but in a different way.

The name Tiger felt like a comfortable old coat these days, worn in all the right places. The original occasion for which he’d first donned it had ceased to matter many wears ago. It was his, and that was enough. Somewhere along the line, it had stopped being a barrier and started being him.

In fact, it felt less like an old coat and more like his own skin. He owed some of that to Checkmate, but most of it had changed because he had changed.

In many respects, Spyral was equally as responsible… if not more so.

His feelings were beginning to make more sense. Checkmate felt like a step backwards. The Tiger who’d joined Checkmate was not the same Tiger who was set to return.

Given the emotional state he’d been in when he’d volunteered to infiltrate Spyral, that was an improvement. It felt strange calling post-traumatic stress an improvement.

Well, in reality, it wasn’t his trauma that had changed him. That had simply come along for the ride, as Dick might say.

Tiger had grown up quickly, but only now was he finding true maturity. He’d felt so worldly when he’d joined Checkmate. Perhaps that was youth. Perhaps it was fighting the Taliban from a young age. Perhaps both.

In truth, he’d known very little. In many respects, he felt he knew less now.

“Hey,” Dick poked his head out the door. “You’ve been gone a while. Everything okay?”

Tiger nodded. “I was thinking.”

Dick joined him at the wall. “Oh?”

“Do you find that as you grow older, you know less?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

“Do you think it is normal?”

“Yeah, I do.” Dick leaned his head on Tiger’s shoulder. Tiger held very still so he wouldn’t move. “We’re getting wise in our old age, T.”

Tiger couldn’t hold back a laugh; he found it harder to control these days, especially when Dick knew how to get under his skin. “Yes, you do look very old.”

“Yeah, and you’re about to collapse into dust yourself.”

“Well, my joints make noises they never used to make. Perhaps that time is almost upon me.”

“Or you could just stop getting your ass kicked every few weeks. I’ve heard good health keeps you young.”

“I would not know.”

Dick laughed, sliding his hand into Tiger’s. “Anyway. What brought this on?”

“I was thinking about Checkmate. I was barely eighteen when they recruited me in Afghanistan.”

“And I bet you thought you knew everything.”

“To be fair, I had repelled my fair share of Taliban attacks.”

“Okay, that’s pretty impressive. Some cockiness is to be expected.”

“I may also have wrestled a tiger.”

“Shit. Really?”

“You will never know if I’m telling the truth.”

“You bastard,” Dick murmured.

“I volunteered for the Spyral mission,” Tiger said. He hadn’t set out to share that information, but maybe he’d needed to say it. He’d had few opportunities to talk about it with anyone.

Dick looked up at him; there was some kind of tension behind his eyes that made Tiger suspect he would have another migraine soon. “Sounds like there’s a story there.”

“Not much of one. I was well-respected in Checkmate, but I wanted to get away.”

“So you volunteered for a deep cover mission. Naturally. Why did you want to get away?”

That wasn’t something Tiger liked to think about. He already regretted opening his mouth. He wondered if his reason was still with Checkmate, or whether things had changed there as well.

Dick took the hint. “Ah, well. Story for another time? I’m a great listener.”

“I know.”

***

The worst of the migraine had passed, but Dick still winced whenever he saw too much light. Or heard anything louder than a whisper. Tiger was elsewhere; Dick didn’t like anyone seeing him like this, even if he could tolerate another person’s presence when the pain was at its worst.

He sat on the bed in the dark, slowly sipping a glass of water. Tension still bunched in his muscles; he’d learned from experience that it wouldn’t go away properly until he found the strength to move around and stretch. For now, though, he’d just have to deal.

His phone vibrated, which set his teeth on edge. Tim had messed with the settings so the backlight didn’t hurt as much when he looked at the screen, but he still had to do it quickly. It was Kory.

She didn’t call very often. He picked up right away and put the phone on speaker so he could keep it away from his aching head.

“Hello?”

“Dick?”

“The one and only.”

Kory let out a breath. “Oh, X’Hal. It’s true. You’re back.”

“Back and better than ever,” Dick said dryly; he wasn’t sure she’d pick up on the sarcasm, but he guessed it didn’t really matter. “Jason run his mouth?”

“Who else?”

“Good point.”

“You sound tired. Are you okay?”

“It’s been a long few months. I’ll be fine.” A phone conversation wasn’t the ideal platform to hash out what exactly had been going on and why he sounded half-dead. “How are you doing?”

“I’m well.”

“Seen Roy lately?”

Starfire chuckled. “Yes. He just left.”

“Tell him I say hi next time you see him… which I’m sure will be soon.”

“Dick…”

“I’m not mad, Kory. We’ve both moved on. Go forth, be merry.”

“You say the strangest things.”

“You talk to Jason on the regular. I think your opinion of strange is a bit skewed.”

“You’re probably right.” Kory hummed softly. “Jason says you’re living with your family again.”

“Yeah, some stuff went down on the tail end of my mission. Needed to find my feet.”

“Yes, your mission.” Kory’s voice hardened. “The mission where you faked your death.”

Dick sighed; he should’ve expected this. “I’m sorry I put you through that. Just because I needed to be dead in the eyes of the public didn’t mean I needed to be dead to the people I care about.”

“I’m glad you’ve realised that.” She still sounded pissed. That was valid.

“You ever find yourself in Gotham?” Dick asked. “We should talk properly. Face to face.”

“I might be in the neighbourhood next week. To visit Jason.”

“And if we happen to bump into each other, that’ll be a happy coincidence.”

“Yes.”

“Text me the details. When you have them.”

“I will.”

“And I’ll give the big guy some warning so he doesn’t get mad about metahumans in the city again.”

Kory laughed. “Is he always like that?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ll see you later.”

They said their goodbyes and hung up. Dick set the phone aside and pressed his fingers into his temples. It had been easy enough to block out the pain while talking to Kory, but now it was coming back with a vengeance.

Still, he was glad for the phone call. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Kory. And the last time she’d seen him was at his funeral. Not exactly conducive to conversation.

It would be good to see her. He still loved her, in a way, but the need to have her to himself had long since dissipated. Enough time had passed that he could genuinely be happy for her when she saw other people.

Yeah. Now was a good time to clear the air between them. If things went well, maybe she’d like to meet Tiger.

***

The day to visit Checkmate came before Tiger was prepared for it. Even the morning prayer had done little to soothe his nerves.

It didn’t help that Dick was coming off another migraine. He made it to breakfast with Tiger, but neither of them had much of an appetite. Tiger had told Dick to go back to bed several times, but he refused.

“Good news,” Dick said quietly, picking at the fruit salad Alfred had made. “We’re carpooling today.”

“This is the first I am hearing of it.”

“Only got confirmed last night,” Dick said. “I’m seeing a specialist in Gotham, so Alfred’s driving both of us into the city. We’ll drop you off first.”

“Are you sure you are up to this?”

“The sunglasses aren’t just for decoration.” Dick patted his shirt pocket. “I’ll manage.”

Tiger had to admit having Dick close for the journey made him feel better. He stopped protesting.

“Does this specialist know what they are doing?” Damian said, stabbing a waffle with his usual fervour.

“It’s the same guy who stopped my head exploding on a near-nightly basis,” Tim replied. “He’s legit.”

“Your migraines are a result of inferior genetics, Drake, not a torture machine.”

Tim looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath. “Thanks.”

Damian eyed him for a moment longer, until he evidently decided Tim was not going to react the way he wanted him to. Then Dick caught his eye and raised an eyebrow.

Damian scowled. “I apologise, Drake.”

“Sure.” Tim said absent-mindedly, more focused on his coffee.

“Anyway…” Dick finally picked up some pineapple on his fork. “I don’t know if the specialist can help, but I’m willing to give it a shot. At this point, I’ll try anything.”

Dick looked exhausted. Tiger knew for a fact he was, in fact, as tired as he looked. Neither of them had slept well last night. Dick was abstaining from coffee and Tiger did not need caffeine shakes, so there was no respite on the horizon.

Once it was time to leave, they’d both managed to choke down some breakfast. Cassandra had gone ahead to meet Helena; they would remain near the building but would not enter unless absolutely necessary. Tiger did not need an extra set of eyes over his shoulder. He would be under enough scrutiny already.

He was grateful they would be close by if needed, however.

Dick still flinched in the sunlight, but he appeared to shake it off. They sat together in the back of the car while Alfred drove.

“Should you require an earlier pickup than anticipated, sir,” said Alfred, “call me and I will come. Should you lose access to your phone, I use the family’s communication frequency. Master Dick, if you would…?”

“Sure.” Dick held out his palm. Tiger dropped the communicator in his hand. Dick pressed a few buttons on his watch, frowning. Or perhaps squinting. After a moment, the communicator beeped softly and Dick handed it back.

Tiger put it in his ear. “I may need to surrender my devices.”

Dick made a pulling motion from his watch and a dim holographic display grew from it. He pressed a few holographic keys and then held his wrist close to Tiger.

“Give it a few words.”

“Hello, watch.” Tiger grimaced. “I feel ridiculous.”

The watched beeped and Dick pulled back. “That was enough. Okay, you should be able to program any communicator to patch you into our frequency. You’ll be asked to give voice confirmation. If something really bad happens, which I doubt it will, it’ll also work on all cell phones, Gotham payphones and some kitchen appliances.”

“What?”

“Wayne Enterprises gets everywhere, babe.”

Tiger would never get used to that nickname, but at least it was a pleasant feeling. He still did not feel ready when Alfred parked the car near the nondescript office building that housed Checkmate’s Gotham outpost.

Dick kissed his cheek. “You’ll be okay. We won’t be far. And Cass and Helena will be on hand if something weird happens. Which it probably won’t.”

“Yes, very comforting.”

“Oh, hush.” Dick squeezed both his hands. “You just did them a massive favour. As far as I’m concerned, the least they can do is listen to you about Bannon.”

That name always felt like a lance through his stomach. He nodded silently and slid out of the car.

As they drove off, Dick blew him a kiss out the window. Tiger tried to burn that image into his mind. He could use some encouragement once he was inside.

He approached the glass doors. They slid open for him. He stepped through, heart pounding in his throat.

He paused in the lobby. Breathed. The lobby itself was deliberately dull and sterile. Not the kind of place someone would walk into by accident. Unless they were trying to escape a murderer, Tiger supposed.

The woman at the front desk was a stranger, probably a newer agent who joined after Tiger had gone undercover. She seemed to recognise him anyway and waved him through the next set of doors. Here, things became more interesting.

A security guard passed Tiger a plastic tub. He put his communicator, watch and phone inside. Then he removed his shoes and placed them on the conveyor belt.

“We’ll need to confiscate your electronics,” the guard said. “You’ll get them back when you leave.”

Tiger passed through a body scanner and retrieved his shoes on the other side. He was almost certain Bruce had hidden a tracker on him, but it was clearly disguised enough or of such little consequence that security did not feel the need to search and destroy.

Another receptionist was seated behind another desk, this time close to a pair of grey elevators. “Welcome back, Bishop Five,” he said, stamping a barcode onto the back of Tiger’s hand. “You’re needed on level ten. Have a nice day.”

Tiger stepped into the elevator and tapped the back of his hand against the card reader. Level ten selected itself and the doors sealed him in the elevator.

Tiger fell into parade rest. He shut his eyes and took deep, slow breaths. He had never been to the Gotham City branch of Checkmate before, so it was unlikely he would run into many people who knew him. Maxwell Lord was probably here, and perhaps Amanda Waller, but anyone else? No.

The doors let out a ding and slid open. Tiger stepped out, feeling calmer. He had no reason to feel anxious. He had done his job. All he needed to do was report in and give his recommendations.

And possibly attend an evaluation, which he would likely fail. Then again, it was more likely they would schedule it for another day. If all went to plan, he would not be here for long.

Tiger started down the hallway. The barcode on his wrist would automatically open the correct door once he reached it, and this place was linear. He could do this. Everything would be fine. He had nothing to—

A door up ahead slid open. An agent stepped into the hallway. They locked eyes, and recognition sparked between them.

“Eimal,” Tiger breathed.

“Tiger.” Eimal’s face broke into an uneasy smile. The man was handsome as ever… his dark, intelligent eyes; his nose slightly crooked from being broken one too many times; his thick, black hair…

This was exactly who Tiger had not wanted to see.

Eimal’s smile relaxed, just a small amount. “It’s good to see you.”

Tiger couldn’t answer. He suddenly felt much younger, in the throes of heartbreak once again. That was a dangerous feeling. He made rash decisions when he felt like this. He had to breathe. Had to control it. This feeling was nothing more than the ghost of a relationship long since dead.

He swallowed. “I did not expect to see you here.”

“Lord thought you might like to see a friendly face.” Eimal’s smile turned pained. “I had hoped enough time had passed that…”

Tiger did not know how to respond. He often felt clumsy and slow around Eimal. The man was a few years older and, he’d once believed, much wiser. He had joined Checkmate before Tiger and had been among the first to welcome him. Meeting another Pashtun had helped keep the homesickness at bay for them both.

“The past is the past,” Tiger finally said, hoping he sounded firm. He did not feel firm. He felt like the ground would soon crumble beneath him.

A flash of hurt appeared in Eimal’s eyes, but it was gone so quickly Tiger might have imagined it. “Well, it was good to see you. Don’t keep Lord waiting.” He gestured to the door at the end of the hall.

“Thank you.” Tiger didn’t know what else to say. Eimal stepped aside to let him pass. Tiger felt like he was walking through water. When he turned back, Eimal was gone.

#dicktiger #tiger king of kandahar #dick grayson #grayson comic #fanfiction #my fics #homecoming dicktiger fic

22 notes · View notes

bat-losers-inc · 6 years

Text

Piece of Cake

Warnings: none

Summary: Jason and Tim's small steps towards parenthood are more of a trip and a roll. (Semi connected to "Date Night")

Pairings: Jason Todd/Tim Drake

“Two-face? Not a problem.

A concert hall full of ninjas? Piece of cake.

So why do I feel completely lost in a toy store?”- Jason Todd.

Jason stood in front of the long aisle stacked with a variety of children’s toys.

Ones that flashed with lights. Ones that could roll and spin in circles, shouting catchphrases in their tinny animated voices.

Jason looked to his right at the line of Batman figurines standing next to the fashionista dolls with the color-changing hair and almost wanted to laugh.

As it was, it was taking all of Jason’s effort not to turn around and walk to his car.

“Jason?”

A hand touched Jason’s elbow, but despite the light weight of it on his arm, Jason flinched away.

He turned to see Tim standing there with a stack of storybooks tucked into the crook of his arm. Judging from the titles, Jason guessed they were going to be added to the growing stack of adventure stories piled under Bodi’s bed at Gotham City Children’s Home. Most of Tim’s old childhood books had already been given to Markos— who was diligently trying to improve his reading skills.

With his hand on his arm, Tim steered Jason out of earshot of the family of four.

“What’s wrong?”

Jason couldn’t have said what his expression looked like when Tim had come across him, but whatever it was, Tim had seen enough to be scared for him. Sometimes Jason wondered if Tim felt like he was living with a ticking time bomb of a boyfriend— waiting for him to go off.

“I’m a shit godfather, is what’s wrong,” snapped Jason. “I don’t know the first thing about what kids like.”

Jason could sense the careful way that Tim crafted his next question.

“Well, what did your mom give you to play with as a child?”

Jason pressed his lips together and gave a tight-lipped smile. “Sometimes the closest thing I ever got to a toy was a hot poker.”

Jason traced his fingers around the raised skin on his forearm.

“Your Dad?” asked Tim.

Jason blinked and dropped his hand to his side.

“Step.” He corrected, smiling despite it all because Tim had just broken one of his private little rules… whatever you do, don’t mention dear ol dad . That meant Bruce and any other earlier stand-in.

“How about we just get the books for now? We still have plenty of time to pick out Lian’s present.”

They visited the children's home later that day and Jason watched from the reading room as Tim put their names and cellphone numbers down as emergency contacts.

There was a sharp tug at Jason’s hair.

“Ow, hey!”

Bodi had his head tilted back to look up at him from his seated position on his lap. “I wanna know what happens next.”

Jason shifted him in his lap. “Yeah, okay big guy.”

He flipped to the next page.

Of course Bruce found out about Tim’s decision later that week. The look he’d cast them across the dinner table had been a strange one. It had looked almost… proud? Whatever it was, it didn’t last long enough for Jason to get a good read on him.

Jason was beginning to think that he’d just imagined it, especially when Bruce wiped at his mouth with his napkin and said, “You’re too young to be adopting anything more than that cat. Remember that, the both of you.”

Bruce stood up from the table.

Dick followed Bruce with his eyes until he was sure he had left the room. He turned to look down the table at them, planting his elbow on the tablecloth and resting his face against his fist.

After a minute of silence had passed like this Jason quickly lost his patience.

“Yes, Dickhead? Can we help you with something?”

“Sorry, don’t mind me,” said Dick. “I’m just trying to take it all in. I was wondering when Bruce’s adopt-all-the-lost-and-lonely-things habit would finally rub off on you guys.”

“I literally have no idea what you’re talking about, Dick.”

“Yeah, tell that to your cat, Jason.”

Jason stood shoulder to shoulder with Tim a few steps inside the doorway, staring in silent horror at the mob of screeching children. Lian’s birthday present hung in between them, the purple hippo pillow-pet nestled in a mass of sparkly tissue paper that Tim had picked out.

“Oh, man.” Tim breathed.

A gaggle of kids rushed past, their faces painted to look like Batman, butterflies, fairy princesses, and Wonder Woman.

“I know it’s a kids party, but Roy never said anything about this many kids,” said Jason.

A group of moms huddled around the kitchen island, balancing paper plates of cake and glasses of wine. One of them caught sight of them standing in the doorway and beckoned them over with an energetic wave of her hand.

“Mm-hmm.” Jason offered her a plastered on smile and a half-hearted wave, already feeling completely out of his element.

He leaned into Tim. “If this is what parenthood is like, I don’t want it.”

Tim nodded. “Agreed. Perfectly happy with just the cat.”

“Yeah, the cat is great. Let’s just be cat-parents for now. We’ll throw Dorito a birthday party with Selina’s cats and it will be so much cooler than this.”

Tim smirked. “Dick’s gonna cry when he sees how awesome we are as cat-parents.”

It was a relief when Roy came stumbling into view, Lian and another boy Jason didn’t know hanging on his legs. Roy’s face brightened when he caught sight of them.

He grabbed Jason by the wrist.

“What are you standing over here for? Come say hi to your godchild.”

He dragged Jason forward into the room. Jason sent a wary look behind him at Tim before grasping onto him and tugging him along with him.

It was late in the evening when Jason and Tim found themselves slumped on Roy’s living room couch with Lian snoring softly against Jason’s chest.

Tim reached across the couch cushions for Jason’s hand that wasn’t currently wrapped loosely around Lian’s back and rubbing small circles. Tim threaded his fingers through Jason’s on top of the couch cushion.

“Hey,” he whispered.

Jason blinked and turned towards him with a tired smile. “Hey, what?”

“We never got to talk about what happened in the toy store earlier this week.”

Jason sighed and pulled his head free to rub at his face. “Tim, please don’t. I really don’t want to start on this now. It’s been a long—”

“Hey, no, no… “ Tim recaptured his hand between both of his own and pulled it closer to his lap. “That’s not what I was trying to do. I just wanted to say that I know you think that you’re destined to be a bad father figure because of all your issues with Bruce and your dads, but that’s not true. I think you’re a better man because of it. I know that you are... and so do Lian, Bodi, and Markos. Hell even Dorito loves you best.”

Tim smiled. “Do you see what I’m saying?”

Jason shook his head with a stupid smile. “Man, you’re too good for me. Get over here.”

Tim slid sideways until Jason could tuck him underneath his arm and press a kiss to his temple. They sat in silence for a while after that, listening to Lian’s quiet breathing and soaking in their small but powerful accomplishments.

#bat-losers-inc #LittleDarlingXOX #jaytim #Jason Todd/Tim Drake #jason todd #tim drake #dick grayson #bruce wayne #roy harper #lian harper #batman fic #jaytim shorts

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mizmahlia · 6 years

Text

You Have No Idea Who I Am

For @aniseandspearmint

Thanks for the request! Enjoy! :)

Angsty Dialog Prompt #26: “You have no idea who I am.” Tim groaned and laid his head down on his desk, his forehead making contact with a dull thud. The pile of paperwork to his left shifted and toppled over the side of the desk onto the floor. He made no move to pick it up, instead closing his eyes and sighing. He was tired. It wasn’t the ‘it’s been a long night’ kind of tired, nor was it the ‘I’m three days into a case and I’m almost done’ kind of tired. No, this was the ‘half of Arkham has escaped, I’m still sore from the last time, and I’m being pulled in four different directions’ kind of tired. He’d been in meetings with Lucius and the finance board most of the day after being awake for two days dealing with the aftermath of an attack by Victor Fries. He was supposed to meet Dick at the Manor tonight to prep for a takedown of drug smugglers in Bludhaven and also somehow be working with Bruce on developing more detailed encryption software for the cave computer. Clearly, one or more of those things was not going to happen tonight.

He picked his head up off his desk and sighed again, glancing down at the puddle of papers scattered across the floor. Before he even considered picking it up, the hair on the back of his neck stood up and he heard a cat purring somewhere to his right. He shook his head. "Hey, Klarion." Klarion appeared from the shadows behind the door to Tim's office. Teekl meowed and leaped onto the desk before laying down on the report he'd been reading minutes earlier. Tim just stared at him, unable to think clearly enough to shoo the strange cat off his desk. "Tim. You look.. what's the word?" Klarion snapped his fingers and smiled. "You look exhausted." Klarion sat down on the arm rest of the small sofa across from Tim's desk, beckoning Teekl. He jumped from the edge of the desk to the couch, sending more paper to the floor. Tim collapsed against the back of the chair and rubbed his temples. He could feel a migraine coming. "To what do I owe the pleasure? Is Teekl in danger again?" Klarion shook his head and ran his knuckles gently down Teekl's spine. The cat arched his back and began kneading the cushion. "No, not this time. I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by. I owe you a favor." Tim's face scrunched into a frown. "What? That was years ago. You don't owe me anything. Why are you really here?" Klarion's mouth twitched into a smile as he rolled his eyes. "Ever the cynic. I check in on you from time to time to make sure you're okay. After all that time spent abroad chasing down leads on you-know-who a few years ago, you had me a bit worried." Tim's eyes went wide and he slouched in his chair, forgetting about the impending migraine, how itchy his eyes felt from lack of sleep and that he hadn't eaten in about twenty hours. Klarion had been watching him for some time, apparently. His face flushed and he focused his gaze on Teekl, his voice going quiet. "I'm fine now. Bruce was alive and he found his way back. I lost myself for a little while, but I had some friends pull me back." "Lucky for you. But I'm not here to check on you because of that- I know most of that is behind you. I'm here because I sensed you needed some help and I wanted to offer some of mine." His eyes studied Tim closely, his expression unreadable. "So what's got you troubled?" Tim bit the inside of his cheek and looked around the room. In the last three hours, he'd made almost zero progress on the budget reports. His phone had eight un-read text messages and almost a dozen missed phone calls. Some were from Dick, several were from Bruce and there was one missed call from Steph. Knowing he couldn't lie to Klarion because he wouldn't leave until Tim accepted his help, he decided to just come clean. "I have too many things to do and not enough time or energy to get to everything." He gestured to the screen on his phone, which was flashing with another text notification. Klarion glanced at the phone and the papers scattered throughout the room. He held his hand up and twirled his fingers in a circle once, then twice, and before Tim could say anything, all of his paperwork was stacked neatly on his desk and his phone screen was dark. Klarion smiled. "Give me something that's a bit more challenging. Would you like me to go visit Bruce? Or that Grayson fellow?" His eyes lit up, glowing brightly in the darkness. "Or I could go see that delightful Stephanie and assist her." Tim smiled and felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. He couldn't even begin to imagine Klarion working with Bruce in the cave. Admittedly, he kind of wanted to see it. "No, it's okay. I just... Sometimes I wish they would forget I existed for a little while so I have a chance to catch up, you know?" He rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands, wincing because his eyelids felt like sandpaper. "I can do a lot of things, but fixing everything isn't one of them." He yawned and opened his eyes. Klarion was grinning mischievously, dusting his hands together as he stood up. "I think I can help with that." Tim felt his heart drop into his stomach. He could smell the spice of Klarion's magic and he abruptly stood up and hurried around the desk, knocking his chair over backwards. "What did you do?" "Nothing that will hurt anyone, I promise. I'm only giving you what you want. What you need." He gently took Tim by the shoulders and steered him toward the couch, shooing away Teekl with stern look. "Now lie down and get some rest. Things will be better when you wake up." Tim tried to protest, but as soon as the backs of his knees bumped against the couch, he felt his eyelids droop and his body begin to relax. "Klarion, don't..." Klarion picked up his feet and helped Tim settle in before gently touching his fingers to Tim's forehead. "Shhh. Just sleep, my friend." Before he could protest further, he was asleep and Klarion disappeared. Teekl looked at Tim from the doorway and meowed before scampering after Klarion. "Yes, Teekl. I think we helped him a great deal. Come along."

Tim opened his eyes to see sun shining through the window and hear a soft knocking on his office door. "Come in." He sat up and rubbed his eyes before glancing at his watch. It was just after six-thirty. He stifled a yawn when Lucius entered. "Good morning, Mister Drake. Long night?" He set a cup of coffee on Tim's desk, raising his eyebrows at the enormous stack of paperwork. "You could say that." Tim stood and stretched, wincing at the stiffness in his back and shoulders. Lucius was leaning over the desk, flipping through the reports and spreadsheets. "Tim, this looks incredible. I can't believe you managed to finish." Tim choked on his coffee and Lucius politely pretended not to notice. "Uh, yeah. I finished just a few hours ago. How does it look?" He cautiously peered over Lucius's shoulder and read along. The figures were what they should be and he closed his eyes in relief. Lucius closed the report and nodded. "It's exactly what we needed. I'll bring everything downstairs to be prepped and copied." He gathered the paperwork and turned to leave, stopping in the doorway. "Why don't you take some time and go home to get changed? I'll meet you in the conference room at eight-thirty." Tim nodded and Lucius left. He stared out the window at the city as it came to life. What else had Klarion been up to? The day passed in a blur as Tim went from meeting to meeting. He hadn't had a chance to meet with Bruce yet as he'd had his own hectic schedule to attend to. It wasn't unusual for their meetings not to overlap, but Tim had a bad feeling as the day wore on. He just couldn't put his finger on it and Klarion was nowhere to be found. When he'd finally had a few minutes to check his phone around three that afternoon, the messages from the night before were still there. He brought up a text from Dick- the time stamp was from eleven last night. You on your way? Bit worried about you. The messages after that were all the same. Dick telling him he was worried, that it wasn't like him to be late. The last one told him to call as soon as he could. That one was from four that morning. Tim cringed as he brought up Dick’s number; he was in for a lecture. Dick answered on the third ring. "Hello?" "Hey, Dick. Sorry I'm so late getting back to you. Last night sort of got away from me." There was a pause. "I'm sorry to hear that, but who is this?" Tim looked at his phone, making sure it was actually Dick he'd called. It was indeed Dick's number and he brought the phone back up to his ear. "Very funny. It's Tim. How's the planning for that op in Bludhaven? Do you still need my help?" There was a sharp inhale on the other end and several seconds of silence. Tim frowned. "I don't know who you think you are, Tim, so listen closely. I don't know you, I don't know how you got this number, but if you're as smart as you seem? You won't call back again." Tim was about to reply when Dick hung up on him. He stared at the phone in his hand, wondering what the hell was going on. Dick liked a practical joke more than most, but this? This didn't feel like one of his usual pranks. He brought up Dick's number again but before he could call him back, Lucius poked his head into the hallway. "Tim? We're ready to get started again." He looked up and nodded at Lucius before opening a new text to Steph. He quickly tapped a message to her before turning off the phone and putting it in his pocket. As he entered his fourth meeting of the day, he couldn't help but notice the knot of dread that he'd felt earlier grow heavier, sitting like a lead weight in his gut. What had Klarion done?

It was dark by the time he got back to his apartment, his last meeting running much later than planned. He sat down on his bed and loosened his tie, checking messages he'd missed in the meantime. He had several from Steph. Um, who is this? I don't recall dialing a number I don't recognize. Thirty minutes later there was another one: Hello? Who the hell is this? And when she didn't get an answer, the final message came five minutes after that: Whatever. Consider yourself blocked, creep. Tim tossed the phone on the bed behind him and covered his face in his hands. Whatever Klarion had done had really made a mess of things. Hopefully, when he saw Bruce on patrol in a little while, he could fix it. He suited up and went to the roof, bringing up his gauntlet computer. He frowned at the red dot on the screen. What was Bruce doing up here? He turned around to see Batman standing on the ledge about fifteen feet from him, his enormous arms crossed over his chest. "Batman, I'm glad to see you. Listen, I..." "Who are you, what were you doing in this building, and where did you get the technology you're using?" Tim's jaw dropped open and he closed the screen, completely missing the second dot appear on the display before it went dark. "What are you talking about? I live here, B." He gestured to his gauntlet computer and the bandoliers criss-crossing his chest. "And I developed all of this myself, with some help from Lucius. You should know all of that." He carefully approached Batman, watching in utter confusion as Batman drew his grapple and a set of restraints. "The penthouse in this building has been vacant for months. I don't know who you think you are, but you're coming with us." Tim felt the pinch of a needle in his neck and he turned to see Robin tuck a syringe back in one of the pouches on his belt. He legs grew wobbly beneath him and he started to fall forward. "Bruce, wait. I can explain.." Before he had the chance, everything went black.

He woke up on the floor in their secondary detention facility, the one near Amusement Mile. He wasn't restrained, though his wrists were sore so he knew he had been at one point. The room was bare and windowless, the walls and floor painted a dull grey. He sighed and rubbed his neck where Damian had stuck him with the syringe.

He crawled to his feet and sat down on the empty cot. He was still woozy from the sedative and he had no idea how long he'd been out. Based on how stiff his arms and legs were, he'd say several hours. "Come on, guys. I know you're watching me. I helped configure the surveillance in this building, remember?" A few seconds later, the door opened and Dick entered in full Nightwing dress. Tim looked up and frowned; his body language was all wrong. Dick maintained his distance, staying outside of Tim's reach, and his back and shoulders were rigid. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. To some, the move looked like a casual one. To Tim it looked like a panther crouched and ready to pounce. "You're the one who called me this afternoon." Tim sighed. "Yeah, Dick, I did. We were supposed to meet last night so I could help you with that op in Bludhaven." He didn't miss the way the muscles in Dick's jaw set, nor did he miss his hands curling into fists. "Where did you get that information?" Tim stood up and wobbled for a moment, shaking his head. "I'm your teammate, that's how. We work together, all of us." Dick pushed off the wall and grabbed Tim's bandoliers, spinning him and slamming him up against the wall. Tim winced when the back of his head hit the concrete surface. I guess that was the wrong answer. Before Dick could ask him anything else, Tim raised his arms and broke Dick's hold, shoving him backward. He then kicked Dick in the chest, careful to place the kick where his body armor was the strongest, and sent him careening into the wall behind him. "Dick, just stop.. let me explain." They both turned as the door opened again and Batman, Red Hood and Robin entered. Tim didn't bother checking to see if he had any kind of weapon on him; they'd surely stripped him of any of that as soon as he was unconscious. The four of them formed a semi-circle, trapping him in the corner. Seriously?! They think I'm that big of a threat? Jason spoke first. He was still wearing his helmet and his deep, filtered voice bounced off the walls of the tiny room. "One last chance to answer the questions, punk. It'll be much easier for you to just play along." Tim took a defensive stance, bringing his hands up in front of him. Damian spoke next. "Tt. Please. As if you stand a chance against the four of us." Tim shrugged. "Perhaps not, but I know how each of you fight. You can't say the same." Tim could practically feel Damian's eyes narrow behind his mask. Dick and Bruce looked at each other, Dick shrugging one shoulder. Jason removed his jacket and tossed it into the corner behind him. "Let's prove that theory." The four of them rushed at Tim and he blocked their blows as fast as he could, but he couldn't block everything. Both Bruce and Jason managed to land several kicks and punches, but because they were in such a cramped space, they weren't as painful as he'd anticipated. His ribs would be sore tomorrow, but he didn't think anything was broken. He didn't even bother with offensive maneuvers because he was so outnumbered, so he just continued trying to block their attacks. Jason and Bruce continued to attack his upper body, while Damian wove between them trying to get to Tim's legs. Tim narrowly avoided one of Damian's kicks at the side of his knee, but while he was deflecting that, Bruce's elbow struck his chest and knocked him backward, right into Jason. Jason wasted no time and wrapped his massive arms around him, but Tim knew it was coming and using Jason's size against him, he broke the hold and threw Jason into Damian. They both tumbled to the floor. In the confusion, Dick managed to get behind him and sweep Tim's legs from under him, and as soon as he hit the floor Jason and Damian pounced on his arms and legs. He immediately stopped struggling and looked up at Bruce. Jason had his left arm wrenched behind him and he applied more pressure to his shoulder, causing Tim to grunt. He turned his head and looked at Jason, glaring at him. "Jason, come on. I'm not even trying to get up, here. Knock it off." Tim felt Jason tense at hearing his name and he braced himself for the punch he knew Jason would throw. He turned his head at the last second and the blow glanced off his jaw instead of breaking his nose. Tim closed his eyes and hung his head until the pain faded and his breathing wasn't so labored. They weren't going easy on him. Jason rolled away from him, and Dick and Damian hauled him to his feet and dumped him on the cot. Tim rubbed his jaw and stared at the floor a moment, thinking back to his encounter with Klarion last night. He shook his head and leaned back until his back met the wall. He looked up to see Bruce standing directly in front of him with Dick and Damian flanking him. Jason was off to the side, putting on his jacket. Tim brought his legs up and rested his arms on his knees. There was no fighting his way out, and without any of his gear he couldn't hack into anything to cause a distraction or gain some kind of advantage. He was screwed. He looked up at all of them and shook his head. "I'm not going to fight you. Despite what you think, I'm not a threat. I’m on your side." Bruce stepped forward and hauled Tim to his feet. Tim held his hands out to the side, palms open. "You're a threat of the highest order. You’ll remain here until I say otherwise." Bruce let him go and turned to leave. Jason, Dick and Damian followed. Tim watched as Bruce opened the door and ushered Damian out first. He shook his head and his shoulders slumped in defeat as he collapsed onto the cot. “You really have no idea who I am.” Bruce and Dick stopped, turning to look at him. Bruce said nothing. Dick glanced sideways at Bruce as he spoke. "Should we?" Tim carefully stretched out on the cot, minding his sore ribs. He stared at the ceiling as he answered, his voice quiet even in the small room. "I'm just your brother, Dick. No big deal." He rolled over and faced the wall, shutting his eyes. The migraine that threatened last night was now back in full force. He heard the door shut and lock behind him and the room went completely dark. He laughed bitterly; they thought the dark would scare him? He closed his eyes and tried to relax, focusing on anything but the migraine. But then he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up and Teekl meowed. Tim sighed. "Took you long enough, Klarion."

#Tim Drake #klarion the witch boy #Klarion #MizMahlia's Fanfiction #replies #Fic Request

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noexit-ff · 6 years

Text

48.

It’s a little weird being in Barbados with a baby, I am so used to being free and doing what the fuck I want but no. Junior is not amused by many things and that includes people in Barbados, non-stop for three days I have had family coming over to see me and Junior and they all adore him but he doesn’t adore them, I am sure he will get used to it. He lets Noella pick him up so that is someone but he kept on pulling her hair and she was done with him and gave me him back, makes me sad because everyone asks where is Chris? Why is he not here, I bet he misses his dad, I am like please. But today nobody is coming so I am free from that, I want to take him to the beach and visit my auntie’ store, I have to always visit the store. I want him to get the Barbados vibe but if it is too much I will come home. Finishing my hair as I placed it in a bun, Junior wailed out crying again and I know what he has done again “seriously Junior” turning away from the mirror, my family has made the home baby filled. They bought me a baby crib, baby toys, baby rockers, clothes, bottles, diapers. It was so sweet to come home too “I am here, calm down” placing him onto his back again “stop it, you did this for the third time now, you don’t like it” Junior stared at me all wide eyed, he keeps on going onto his stomach and then gets scared of it, I don’t know why he is doing that. I keep him in his crib at all times since he is moving and doing things like this “let me get ready and then it will be your time” passing him his toy.

Noella cooed out seeing me and Junior “oh my gosh, look at him!” she spat, I smiled at Junior as he stared at himself and the OHB chain he has around his neck “it’s warm so I didn’t put a top on him” Noella held her arms open “I want him, his fat legs are out and even his stomach” Junior looked up finally and his drool hit his chest “you want to go to Auntie” I said but he didn’t move he just gave a blank stare as to say no, Noella pulled the dining chair out “he is so cute Robyn, honestly” sitting down and placing him on my lap “I will put a top on him when we go out, is Rich here? He always goes missing when we are in Barbados” I think he has got some secret hoe here “secret family, I am telling you. Majesty said to me last night, why I not got that and I was like what is she even talking about, she then say baby got it. I not got it and then I kind of got it, she was talking about dick. I was like oh, because girls are special” shaking my head laughing “she keeps trying to hold him, I goes to her no. He will squash you” looking down at Junior as he attacked his hand “my grandbaby is awake, Robbie I don’t care. I am taking him, he will stop” I sighed out, I don’t like Junior crying “but if he don’t stop then bring him back to me” my mom took him from me “my beautiful baby, look at you” Junior looked at my mom in terror “no, no crying” my mom rushed off “by the time the two weeks is over he will be fine, I am kind of glad he wouldn’t settle with people. I didn’t want anyone to kiss him” Noella nodded her head in agreement “I agree, family or not just don’t kiss my child” I can hear Junior crying from here.

Rich finally walked in “what time do you call this? You making time for booty calls?” he has literally been out since this morning so where has he been “I went for a walk, I love Barbados. There is no booty calls, I spoke to Frank and that was it” Rich sat across me on the couch, I know why he was speaking to Frank. I have been busy non-stop with family, guests and then Junior. So Chris had to be put on hold, I would call him late or message him late. He got upset with me saying I am ignoring him, you have junior and who do I have. We argued and then he decided to not call for two days, this is the third day and he hasn’t messaged or called me. He acts out for nothing, I said I was busy and then he thinks I am keeping Junior away from him and I am letting my dad hold him and shit “I guess you know then?” Rich said breaking my train of thoughts “I do yes, he is in London” I got told by Jen, Ant told Jen because according to Chris he has work there but he is a liar, he is angry at me because I was busy for him. He needs to grow up, I am not giving him the attention he wants for the way he is being “how is he?” I asked Rich, I am sure he knows “Frank said they good, Chris is hanging with Tim. He has all of his friends with him” as long as he is happy I guess.

This is such a great feeling, I am so happy “you can’t stop smiling” Sonita said in the passenger seat “I am getting to drive my son around in my car, I can never do this at home but I can here. I love this feeling of freedom, not waiting for Chris or the SUV. I am so free” Sonita cooed out “you look so carefree though, I love it when you are in Barbados. Barbados misses you so much” I stopped outside my Auntie’ store “Barbados will be something I am always coming too every year, might be twice a year but I want Junior to have that connection to my home town” turning the car engine off “what about Chris’ connection? You know he should have come” rolling my eyes looking away from Sonita “that connection is a little broken, I can’t ask a grown ass man to do something. He had things to do anyways” Sonita sees through the lies I tell, it’s a blessing she knows me but at times it can be a curse. Opening the car door “you drove so slow!!” Rajad half shouted “I had my son in the car, I am not about to be reckless like that” I ain’t about to drive like a stupid bitch.

I was sure to bring the stroller into the store with me, I was not about to hold Junior in my arms. My arms get tired, he is getting big for me “this is such a special day for me!!” my auntie gushed “if only he was a girl, I would give you so many dresses” my auntie leaned down to the stroller “you are your mommy’ little blessing aren’t you, you remind me of when Robz was a baby. Such a handsome boy” touching the dress hung up “you got this out for me auntie? I like it, you got my size? I am not the same size anymore, I am a dress size up” my auntie gasped “you don’t look it, I mean at the christening your butt has got big but no” I nodded my head “well since having him my dress size has changed, Chris likes me like this so what do I care” if my husband likes it forget the rest “I will go and get your size in all of the dresses we have right now” I always have to buy from this store, she got some bomb ass stuff and I love it. Looking down at the stroller, Junior is entertained by the toys hanging off his stroller so I will leave him to it.

Both Leandra and Sonita both stared at me all wide eyed “girl, that ass and titties. You are one hot baby mother, I wouldn’t let you out of the house” picking Junior up from Noella “no, you leave your sun hat on” moving his hands away “look at his little man boobs, they are so adorable” sitting down on the edge of the sun lounger “leave him alone, he is my little chubby man. I know baby, they keep admiring your body. Your first time on a beach baby, and we have Majesty that is going to play with you. Can you give me the sun cream” I asked Nicolette “can I apply that to your butt cheeks? Might as well” Leandra said, side eyeing her “only if you kiss my ass first” I retorted before kissing Junior’ cheek “which cheek hoe?” Leandra said back, she never stops and I should know this by now “I heard that Jen got a little crush on that Ant guy, I saw him at the party. He is a little handsome” Sonita said, pulling a face “who started this rumour up? You hoes gossip too much” Nicolette passed me the sun cream “if you didn’t run off to get some dick then you would have been one of us” Leandra won’t drop the fact I left for some dick “some of us have the opportunity to just leave and get dick” glaring at Leandra aiming the comment at her.

I giggled at Junior as the wave just hit his feet, he looks so amazed by it and he let out a scream “you like that baby?” Junior looked down at his feet “Robyn, look up” Noella spat, looking up from Junior and she took the picture “his first beach day, this is so cute” Noella ran over to us, the wave slowly came towards us again “it’s coming again Junior!” Junior got ever so excited and the water hit his legs again, Noella placed her hand in the water and flicked some of the water in his face and Junior did the goofiest smile “awww my nephew is so precious” picking Junior up, holding him up is breaking my back a little now and my ass is all in the air. Placing Junior on my hip, walking into the water slowly with him “you had to go into the water” Rich said all annoyed “I am only here, I am not going in fully” just our torso is covered, Junior rested his forehead right on my lips and then moved back looking at me “why are you head butting me?, you want kisses on your forehead” Junior showing love is always a way to my heart, pressing a kiss to his forehead and moved back, Junior’ smile grew “stop it, stop growing and stop making me all weak” he adores me but I adore him so much more, he is my heart.

Junior sat between my legs on the beach, he can sit up fine but I still like to be there or have something to make sure he is safe “hey, no” hitting his hand away from his mouth “no!” I said to him, he was about to put that sand in his mouth “I’ll wipe his hands, Sonita is walking over” Majesty shuffled over to us “you not eat sand, you play” watching Sonita walk to the side of me “your phone was ringing a few times now, thought I would give it you. Being away from the husband, could be important” taking my phone from Sonita “thank you” if my phone was ringing a few times then it will be Chris thinking I am ignoring him, just what I needed. For him to assume I am doing it on purpose, pressing my home button and my phone screen lit up. I knew it, I knew it would have been Chris, five missed calls too so I wonder what has gone down “see baby Chris, we not about to have you eating sand now” Noella said while cleaning his hands, tapping his name on my phone and calling him back. The phone rang out and then rang out, I am about to put the phone down “you call me back now?” Chris answered “hi Chris, yes I am out on the beach with Junior thanks for asking” I said sarcastically “you knew didn’t you?” he said down the phone, my eyebrows knitted together “about what? I don’t know anything” I hope he is not drunk “my dad took pictures of my son with his son holding him, you knew. You knew and you can’t tell me shit, I would never let that happen” I sighed out “you right, I knew. I mean I saw your dad holding him but I didn’t want you to kick off and be the way you are right now” why the fuck didn’t I think it, of course he would have taken pictures. Chris is ever so silent on the phone “you took me out there to have sex, you made me blind to the situation I could have stopped!” he spat “no, I fucking did it to save face. To save the fact people would have looked at you the wrong way, I am forever doing this. If you called to shout at me then put the phone down, you know who should be” I stopped speaking to hit Junior’ hand again “no, stop it” I said, he needs to learn.

“Anyways you know who should be angry is me, you went to London for what huh? To be closer to Barbados but not so close? You didn’t even tell me, you stopped calling because I told you I was busy, are you serious?” who the hell does he think he is, thinking he can be angry and I can’t “fuck everyone, I don’t care what they say. He posting my son without permission and anyways, I am doing work. Tim and I discussed things for you, I am bored already so I need to work. I am upset and I miss you both but I am angry. If you didn’t have a good ass pussy I would have been punched his face, I ain’t say shit. I called you” I wish Clinton didn’t “and I am glad you did but ok, you’re doing work but you never spoke to me did you?” he ran off because of me not speaking to him when I was tired but now he has created work for himself “no but I called you, I didn’t cuss nobody out” he is right, he didn’t but he ran off to London and didn’t even tell me about it.

#Chrianna FF #Chrianna fanficiton #Fanficiton

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danyka-fendyr · 6 years

Text

Sleep is For the Week

Big thanks to Tumblr user @tantalum-cobalt for inspiring me on my main account @rmswiftie13 to write this! This is just a short fic I wrote about Damian and Tim doing some brotherly bonding.

Word count: 2378

Tim Drake was not too proud to admit he had some issues. Some less open-minded individuals might even call them problems. However, Tim was an intellectual, and therefore could recognize at 5:00 AM on a Tuesday, watching the sunrise on a digital screen showing a view of the woods outside the manor that he had set up when Steph had asked when the last time he saw the sun was, that not sleeping for 8 days straight and not eating for 3 was really more of an issue than a problem. Tim knew this because Tim had been solving a problem for those 8 days, 5 hours, 23 minutes and 52 seconds. If anyone knew what a problem was, it was Tim.

No, Tim Drake didn’t have any problems except the one he was currently working on. He couldn’t figure out how Bane was doing it, but somehow he was managing to get a new and apparently enhanced form of his special little strength elixir through Tim’s carefully constructed screening system. Technically it was the GCPD’s screening system, but Tim may have nudged them along by dropping a fully formed plan into Commissioner Gordon’s inbox using an anonymous email account. Not to say that Jim didn’t know exactly who was responsible for the new low in drug-trafficking currently occurring in Gotham city. Jim Gordon was good at knowing things quietly though.

Tim hadn’t figured out exactly how enhanced Bane’s new serum was, and he wouldn’t be able to until he got his hands on some of it, which was another thing bothering him. He had some idea though since Bane had used it to knock Bruce straight out of commission for the past 8 days, 5 hours, 26 minutes and 34 seconds. Let’s just say there were a lot of broken bones involved. A ridiculous amount really.

That was why Tim was currently sitting here, working on overdrive. Dick was dealing with something in Blüdhaven. The details eluded him at this particular stage of caffeine-driven sleep deprivation. Jason was off with the outlaws doing goodness knows what, but probably involving murder on some level. Steph and Cass checked in on him occasionally, but they were a bit preoccupied, Steph with helping Dick and Cass with helping Alfred watch over Bruce, who was being particularly difficult.

That left Damian. Tim wasn’t worried about Damian interrupting him though. When given the option, the demon-brat avoided Tim like a vampire avoided daylight. So Tim was left in peace, except for the nightly patrol where he and Damian tried to avoid speaking. They couldn't afford to get into too many arguments, spread as thin as they were, so it was better to just not talk at all.

A steady dripping sound filled the cave, a peaceful background to Tim’s research. His fingers clicked steadily across the keys, and his background ambiance audio was helping him stay focused. Or so he thought.

As it turned out, the classical music combined with the sounds of a storm, the dripping off some stalactite in the back of the cave, and the steady thrumming of his fingers on the keyboard may have been a little too calming. Tim’s fingers began to slow as his eyes began to droop. In a last-ditch effort, he reached for his coffee thermos, only to find it empty. He idly wondered how that had happened, closing his eyes in annoyance. He only meant to close them for a moment, but once they were closed it just felt so nice.

All he wanted to do was drift out of his tired, aching, throbbing body that had been screaming in protest at him all week. His eyes itched and burned even while closed, his stomach churned, his head hurt and his limbs ached. Before he fully knew what was happening, brain slowing down to match the speed of molasses, Tim Drake was asleep.

Damian was bored. No, bored was an understatement. The understatement of the century. If he didn’t find something to do, he was going to stab someone. Speaking of stabbing people, what was Drake up to?

Damian figured he was probably in the cave, and if Damian was lucky, his guard would be down. A prime target for stabbing. Perhaps torture, if the opportunity presented itself.

Damian made his way down to the cave, at first confused by the echoing sounds bouncing off the walls. He couldn’t understand why on earth someone was playing classical music in here without headphones. It was an unspoken rule of the Batcave that if you were going to listen to music you should probably do it with headphones since sound resonated all too well. The answer became clear to him though when he took a few steps further.

Drake was lying crumpled in a desk chair, his body in a pathetically grotesque position. Headphones hung halfway off his head, the cord jerked out of the computer by some movement in his sleep. One arm was folded between his waist and his legs, and it looked like he was probably losing blood flow to it. The other dangled lazily down to his toes, fingertips brushing the floor, while his head was buried awkwardly between his knees, neck twisted in some inhuman fashion.

“Drake, as much as I would like to see you in pain, I need you to have my back on patrol tonight. Wake up, or I assure you, you will not have to feel my wrath to understand the meaning of pain. Though I shall provide more, no doubt,” Damian added.

Tim didn’t stir. He didn’t even move a single muscle, other than to breathe. Damian wondered if maybe someone had put something in Tim’s coffee, but then he realized that someone would have had to be him since no one else had the time for that kind of devious micro-managing. That was certainly one way to get Drake to sleep.

“Drake!” Damian called his name louder this time.

Still no response. He frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. It would seem there was only one option left to him.

Damian crossed the room, pushing Tim up by his shoulders into something that resembled a sitting position. He was heavier than Damian expected him to be, still in his Red Robin suit that he hadn’t changed out of from patrol. Carefully, Damian hefted him halfway over his shoulder. He stumbled slightly, taken aback by the sheer muscle mass of the older boy. He knew on a subconscious level that Drake had to be strong to some extent, but he hadn’t thought about how much time Drake probably actually spent working on maintaining that strength, or the weight that would result from that behavior.

Damian dragged Tim along, refusing to bow under his weight. Tim still hadn’t stirred, fast asleep. Curse Drake and his dangerous sleeping habits. Didn’t he know he could get Damian killed?

Eventually, after much dragging but certainly no sweating, panting, or any other signs of large amounts of effort, the 13-year-old managed to get his older brother into bed. The only problem now was that it was not Tim’s bed, but Damian’s.

Bruce’s room was the closest to the cave, naturally. He had to be there at any given time during the day, or the night for that matter, so it only made sense. However, Bruce was currently occupying his room, so it wasn’t like Damian could drop his load off there. The next closest room just so happened to be his.

He had demanded it under the pretense that, as the heir to the mantle of Batman, he ought to be just as close, if not more so, to the cave than his father was. It definitely had nothing to do with the nightmares that had plagued him since his death or the fact that the room had belonged to Grayson in previous years and perhaps was capable of bringing Damian such paltry feelings as peace and comfort. No, his reasons were purely practical.

So there Drake lay, diagonal on Damian’s Superman comforter, a gift from Jon. It was a stupid gift, but he never knew when Jon would be visiting, so he thought it best to keep it on at all times so as not to hurt the feelings of his overemotional...ally. Constant vigilance was important. Almost as important as making sure to stay on the good side of one of the most powerful families in the universe. It was an intelligent political move on Damian’s part, of course.

Damian’s hands came to rest on his hips as he stared at Drake, surveying his conundrum. The true heart of the problem was not that Drake was on his bed. No, the real dilemma here was that, after lugging Drake up a few flights of stairs and placing him on his bed, Damian was not tired, exactly. No. He just thought it might be prudent to rest and make sure he was up to his full strength for patrol tonight.

Of course, Damian could only see one way of getting any sleep right now. He refused to use a bed that wasn’t his own since that would be admitting defeat, something Damian never did. Instead, he would simply have to share the bed with Drake.

Moving him again wasn’t an option since Damian didn’t want to strain any muscles that could be vital in his role as the next Batman. He had a responsibility as the blood son. With that in mind, Damian moved to the far end of the bed, as far from Drake as he could get, and went to sleep.

When Tim woke up, his first thought was that he was not in the Batcave. Slowly, he assessed his surroundings. The first thing he registered was warmth. Radiating out from somewhere near his chest, there was something providing heat.

Tim looked down to see a shock of dark hair, messy with sleep. His first instinct was confusion, unsure who exactly was sleeping curled into his side. He shifted slightly to get a better look at their face, and nearly cried out when it was Damian.

The young boy’s long dark lashes brushed his high cheekbones, eyelids fluttering lightly from some dream and obscuring his sharp green eyes. He had his arms wrapped in on himself, knees pulled up to his chest, back pressed firmly against Tim’s own chest.

Tim was just going to quietly sneak out of the room, already sitting up halfway, when he heard something. A quiet groan slipped out of Damian’s mouth, so low Tim almost missed it. The noise got louder, whimpers now, gut-wrenching in their vulnerability.

Tim almost left it, knowing that the last person Damian would want to see waking up from a nightmare was him. When Damian cried out sharply though, Tim knew he couldn’t leave him like this. He didn’t have the heart to wait for someone else to help the demon brat. He may be annoying, but he was still Tim’s baby brother, and he looked tiny and fragile lying on his Superman blanket in the dim room, curled in on himself. He was protecting his core, the very same place Tim knew a large scar lay, one that marked more than just an injury.

He reached out, shaking Damian’s shoulder.

“Hey,” Tim whispered harshly. “Hey, kid. Wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”

Slowly, Damian stirred, the strangled noises coming out of his mouth fading.

“Drake?” Damian asked, blinking and revealing his hazy green eyes. “How did you get in...never mind. Go away Drake, I’m sleeping.”

The tiny boy turned onto his side, away from his brother. Tim knew better than to think that he was just going back to sleep. He had seen the sheen of tears in his brother's eyes before he had rolled over, and he knew what he was hiding.

“You were having a nightmare,” Tim said.

“I’m fine now. You may leave,” Damian muttered.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Tim asked softly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“I will be quite alright, Drake. I assure you I shall be more than competent on tonight’s patrol.”

Damian’s voice was terse, but he couldn’t hide what Tim knew. With his pale hand on the boy’s dark shoulder, he could feel the slight shudders running through Damian’s body. Without pausing to ask, or to consider the possible effects on his own health, Tim scooped Damian up and placed him in his lap. Carefully, he wrapped his arms around the little boy and held him close.

“You don’t have to talk about it. I know I’m not close to you like Dick, and I can’t relate like Jason. Just...don’t do this alone. You don’t want to be alone, Damian. Trust me.”

There was a moment of silence, the feeling of it thick in the room, like the tight feeling in the back of Tim’s throat.

“Very well. I shall allow you to stay on one condition. Go back to sleep Drake. I can’t have you collapsing in the middle of a fight. You’re already a disaster enough as it is when you’ve had enough sleep, you had best not get me killed in a situation that could have been completely avoidable,” Damian said.

“Yeah, okay kid,” Tim said, lying back down with Damian still held tightly in his grasp.

“And you will eat something as well. Not that you need it. You are incredibly heavy, do you know that Drake?” Damian grumbled, wiggling so that he was more comfortable.

“Sure. Whatever you say, Damian,” Tim said, grinning to himself.

“Now go to sleep Drake,” Damian commanded.

As it turned out though, he didn’t need to tell Drake to fall asleep. He had already done just that, his breathing settling into a steady, slow rhythm. Damian felt his own breathing slow too, and before he knew it he had joined his older sibling.

When Bruce would finally convince Alfred to let him out of bed for the first time in over a week, he would be surprised when he went to check on his youngest only to find him sleeping, curled up underneath the cape of his third son. He smiled, closing the door as he turned to head back to bed. Not, however, before he had time to snap a pic to send to his eldest in Blüdhaven. Dick was going to love this.

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pinapple-qween · 7 years

Text

Relationship: Batboys x Batmom!Reader

Summary: A relaxing day of making cookies is just to much to ask for!

Key: Y/N= your name

Ah, the weekend. When children are home and husbands don’t have to work and families can get together and share a lovely day. Well…not your family.

Wayne Manor was always full of hustle and bustle and it seemed no one had time for each other, ever. Even if the boys had some down time, they wouldn’t spend it together of their own free will. Yes, you had given up on family bonding sometime ago, especially with the night activities. The family was always too tired to do something during they day, so you left it alone after trying a few times.

This weekend was no different. You watched as your family scattered to their respective zones and shut themselves away. It was a sad thing to witness, but there was nothing you could do.

“Miss Y/N,” Alfred interrupted your thoughts, “I’m leaving for a short day trip, I’ve prepared meals if you need them. Don’t let anyone beside yourself, or Master Jason, into my kitchen, please.”

You giggled, “Alright Alfred.” Then you had an idea. “Alfred, do we have the makings for cookies?”

“Why, I believe we do,” he saw your face light up, “Just clean up when you’re finished.”

“Will do. Enjoy your day!” You waved the butler out the door. You stared until he was at the end of the sidewalk then shut the door and dashed to the kitchen.

You hadn’t made cookies since you were in college when you went home to visit your parents for Christmas. It was your tradition until you married Bruce, now you and your family just visit for the holidays and your mom has the cookies already made. The first time it happened you were shocked and slightly offended, but as the years wore on, you understood that she was making your life a little easier with your boys and all.

When you entered the kitchen, you texted your mom for her chocolate chip cookie recipe. While waiting for the response, you got out the basic necessities for making cookies. You peaked at your phone as you measure the flour and sugar and other dry ingredients into one bowl and the wet ingredients into another. You mixed the bowls together and tossed in a generous amount of chocolate chips.

“Hm,” you hummed looking into the bowl. You snatched up the bag and poured even more chips in. “That looks way better!”

You finished mixing the batter and tossed a cookie sheet onto the counter with a little bang. “Oops,” you giggled to yourself. You assumed it didn’t bother anyone and continued with your cookie making.

Jason was in the room next to the kitchen when he heard a bang. Worried, he rushed to the kitchen and found you humming to yourself, scooping cookie batter onto a tray. “Ma, what are you doing? Are you okay? I heard a bang.”

You were startled by Jason’s entrance,but smiled and shrugged off his questions. “I’m fine Jay, I just dropped the pan,” You spun around to face him with the cookie sheet in hand, “I’m making chocolate chip cookies! Like grandma makes at Christmas.”

He watched as you happily moved about the kitchen. He couldn’t remember you ever looking so cheerful and overall, pleasant. He smirked as you did a little dance and shoved the tray into the oven, setting the timer. “What are you smirking at,” you cooed at your son.

“Nothing,” he responded, shaking his head, “Just happy someone around he is making sugary goodness.” Jason slide over to the bowl on the counter.

With your back to the boy you said, “Stop right there Jason. Don’t you dare think about eating the cookie dough.”

“Ah but Ma! I’ve died! The worst I can get is a little salmonella,” Jason whined as you turned back to him. He pulled a pair of puppy-dog eyes out. “Please!”

“Jay, no! If you eat some, then I’ll eat some an then there’ll be none left for making cookies!” You swatted his hand away with your spoon. “I said no.”

Jason just sneered and stuck his finger in when you went to check on the cookies.

The smell of the sugary treat cooking wafted through the whole manor. A feat not easily accomplished, but they were your mother’s recipe and she knew what she was doing. Or at least, her grandma knew.

Dick was the first to smell the cookies baking. His nose stuck into the air the moment the smell began. Oh it was wonderful, he felt like it was the holidays. He followed his nose down the stairs and to the kitchen where he found you and Jason chatting, a bowl of cookie dough left on the counter, ignored. He tip-toed his way over to the bowl, his finger poised over the rim.

“Richard, you dare so much as take a swipe of my cookie dough, you will be grounded for a month,” you chastised without looking over at the man.

“Mom! You can’t ground me, I don’t even live here.”

Jason piped up, “Could’ve fooled me.”

“Shut up!” Dick stuck his tongue out at Jason playfully and Jason grabbed his tongue. “Ow, ow, ow, ow! Mam make ‘im staph!”

You chuckled, “Jay, let go of your brother’s tongue. Okay, that’s a sentence I never thought I’d say.” Your boys laughed with you.

You had gotten the first batch of cookies out and put in another when Tim entered the room. “Mom, what smells so good,” he exclaimed. He say the cookies laying on a cooling rack and cried out, “Sweet! Cookies!” He went to grab one and you smacked his hand.

“Timmy, they’re way too hot, you’ll burn your mouth,” you told the teen. His shoulders slumped and he shuffled to grab a chair and sit down. On his was back with his chair, he saw the bowl of dough. “Timothy don’t you even think about it.” Tim’s face flopped and he dragged his chair past the cookie dough, a longing look on his face.

Damian had popped in when the first batch of cookies were cooled and the third batch had somehow made its way into the oven. Your bowl only contained enough dough for one more batch and by God you were going to do it. “Dami! Sweetie, do you want a cookie? Fresh made!”

Damian grabbed the cookie you offered him and shoved it into his mouth. You watched as his stern face melted as the cookie melted in his mouth. “Ummi, this is delicious! Did Pennyworth make these?”

“Nope,” you smiled proudly, “I did! And I’m almost finished. There’s one batch left to bake.” You glanced to the bowl that you had managed to keep away from your children’s grasp. You admired your boys as they chatted and ate the cookies. “Boys, I’ll be right back. I have to use the restroom, please don’t touch the cookie dough!” They nodded and said they wouldn’t eat it, so you left.

Only moments after you left, Dick snatched the bowl and put it in front of himself. “I am the guardian of the bowl! None shall receive it’s delicious contents,” he proclaimed while cuddling said bowl. Damian scooted over to Dick, promising to protect the bowl as well

Jason and Tim shared knowing looks and Jason said, “We’ll see about that.”

And with those words, it was a fight to the death. Who would get the dough or keep the dough safe from the ‘evil’ clutches. It was a hard fought battle, but in the end, all the boys had began to eat the cookie dough. They ate it from the bowl, from the counter, from their hair. The cookie dough had gotten everywhere and they thought it best to clean it by eating it.

You strolled back into the kitchen and stood gaping at the scene in front of you. You boys had managed to get all of the last of your cookie dough, everywhere, The ceiling, the floor, the oven, the fridge, and themselves, all covered in cookie dough.

“Oh, no,” Damian mutter as he caught sight of you.

“Wha- oh. Um, heh, hi mom,” Dick stuttered once he found what Damian was looking at.

“Boys,” you began, an eerie calm in your voice, “What happened here?”

“Well…” Jason began. He explained the circumstances that led to the cookie dough no longer being available for your last batch. “So, yeah, sorry Ma.” His head hung low, as did the other’s.

You just began to smile, then giggle, then out right bust out laughing. Their heads shot up in surprise as they found you in hysterics. You skipped over to your boys and pulled them all into a big hug. “Oh, you all are a mess, but you’re my mess and I couldn’t love you dorks more.” You hugged them all tightly.

“We love you too, mom,” Dick spoke for the boys. They all nodded and hugged you back.

Your family wasn’t like any other family, and they were nothing short of perfect.

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd #tim drake x reader #tim drake imagine #tim drake #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne #batfam imagine #batfam #batmom imagine #batmom #batboys x reader #batmom!reader #richard grayson

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vampykitty-kun · 7 years

Text

Bloodlust - Ch 3

Previous Chapters: - 1 - 2 -

Rating: M

Characters/Pairing: Jason/Tim. Vicki Vale, Tam Fox, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Damian Wayne.

Notes: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Pre-reboot canon compliant, Vampires, Mildly Dubious Consent, Blood and Injury, Blood Drinking, Stalking, References to Illness, Fear of Discovery. Original prompt requested by ss-penguin in Ch 1.

Word Count: 1849

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The so called fits of pit rage? A theory. One Bruce had been so very, very wrong about… the man hadn’t even been close.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

He awoke in a heap upon the rooftop with the cowl back upon his head covering his face. His head throbbed dully and the previously dislocated shoulder ached something fierce. But all things considered, he was fine. A quick glance down into the alley confirmed that the GCPD had already come through the area and had hauled away the thugs, none the wiser that he had been unconscious up above.

Small miracles he supposed...

It was with great effort that he hauled himself home and slow going without use of his grapple line. But he managed it and stumbled through his window practically on auto pilot before stripping on the way to his bathroom.

No one ever visited that was in the know let alone normal civilians. He figured his gear could wait until morning, and if by some chance it was this lax in security that got him outed, well, then it was clearly meant to be.

As he lay plastered against the shower wall with the hot water streaming over his throbbing shoulder he began to genuinely rethink about hanging up the cowl for good. At least then chances of assault happening within his home were raised. Not the healthiest of thoughts he supposed, but maybe then he at least wouldn't end up laying motionless and defenseless on any more random rooftops.

He ended up face down on his bed, sprawled out on top of his blankets, not caring if his hair got the pillows damp. It was a miracle in itself that he had managed to slip a pair of boxers on before crashing all together.

He might have slept deeply... but the nightmares had him waking just as exhausted the following day.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

He could not be certain whether he was just being paranoid or if there really was something just very off from then on out. Having been a member of the Bat-team for so long he was hyper aware of his surroundings, and he just could not shake the feeling of being watched. Whether Jason was following through with his threat of “we'll see” or it was a figment of his imagination expecting Jason to be watching him, he didn't know. Regardless it had him twitchy, and by the third day he was so exhausted and on edge that he really couldn't be blamed for over reacting- at least by those in the know.

The general Gotham population? Well there he wasn't so lucky...

He had forgotten all about Vicki Vale and her pursuit of making his life public knowledge, and miserable.

Tim had felt someone come up behind him just barely twenty feet from Wayne Tower's entrance, had seen the faintest bit of brisk movement out of the corner of his vision, and while absolutely shocked that this was happening to him on a public street in broad daylight with a massive crowd, he had jumped and swung without first seeing.

His fist had hit the cameraman right in the jaw with a sickening crunch- dislocated no doubt, and he had gaped in horror at the sight of the man screaming as knelt on the ground clutching his face, camera busted on the cement at his side. Vale was in an equal state of shock behind the man, eyes wide and unable to fully process what had just happened, until of course she had managed to shake it off faster than him. She dialed 9-1-1 while he stood there sputtering, and by the time she had hung up he was babbling his utmost apology, vibrating as he dropped his remaining crutch and sat on his knees beside the man.

“I am so unbelievably sorry, I didn't know, honest, I just heard someone run up behind me and I panicked, trust me, I did not intend to punch you as a camera man, I meant to punch a stalker-” at this Vicki suddenly smirked, tilted her head back slightly, and he blanched further “n-not that I have a stalker, I'm just a bit jumpy, and I'm....I'm just really, really sorry. I'll pay your entire medical bill- and for your camera... I'm so sorry...” He groaned, running a hand down his face in mortification.

Of all the things to happen the last thing he needed was this.

He supposed he should be grateful that he had not punched Vale in the face instead. Riots could have broken out, and the Wayne lawyers would be even more heavily burdened than they were probably about to be.

Bruce was going to kill him.

Or, well... stare at him judgmentally, probably secretly wondering if he had done it on purpose. Because he was different now in his eyes, questionable, untrustworthy...

Tim felt sick.

Vale on the other hand looked far too happy for the current situation which didn't bode well for him.

“Oh it's no problem Mr. Wayne, I know you didn't mean to go after my camera man, you are not at all like the every day celebrity. You don't get drunk, or aggressive, or vengeful and get violent with us...” she nodded, and despite himself all he could do was blink. “No, otherwise you would have started swinging during or after prior stories. The worst you give, dear Timothy, is a glare. Just like Bruce.”

Tim swallowed roughly and gave a curt nod. To his relief the sirens were approaching. Any second now they would come to load the poor man up and he would be able to make his escape.

He could deal with the lawyers later...

“I- It really was a mistake, Ms. Vale. I've just had a really stressful month, and not much sleep... deadlines you know...”

He could tell she didn't believe him in the slightest as she grinned at him.

“Oh, I'm sure...”

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

When Tim had finally managed to make it into Wayne Tower, he was ashamed to admit that he spaced out almost the entirety of the business meeting, and Tam- bless her heart, managed to give him enough of a lead for him to comment towards the end and wrap things up awkwardly, even despite her cold shoulder.

The trip home was strenuous, having wrenched his injured shoulder in the reporter scuffle, and by the time he finally managed to get through his front door he whipped the crutches across the room in a fit of frustration, and didn't even bother heading for the shower. He threw on a pot of tea, spent the entirety of the time it took to boil banging his head on the side of the fridge, muttering to himself about how stupid he had been, and when he finally made his way to the couch he collapsed in the corner of it a sprawl of loose limbs.

What had become of his life?

Who had he pissed off to get to this point?

Tim was tired of the pressure, of the stress, of the fatigue... he was tired of being criticized and judged by those he called family and friends. He regretted ever committing to the crutches. Some days it was quite honestly too hard to act- pretend.

These days all he seemed to do was pretend.

Despite the tea he still managed to pass out on the couch.

He skipped patrol that night.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Tim awoke with a start, having manged at some point during the night to make it into his bedroom, saving him even more cramped muscles, and flailed his good arm around desperately searching for the source of the incessant ringing that had startled him awake.

His heart felt like it was trying to beat right out of his chest as his slid his thumb across the screen, and slurring he plastered the phone against his ear. He was never so grateful for blackout curtains than he was on this morning.

“ e'llo?” He grumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“You punched a reporter?!” To Tim's surprise it was Dick's voice on the other end of the line.

But even more so-

“I- What?” he stumbled over his words, sitting up abruptly- which turned out to be a bad idea as dizziness washed over him from moving too quickly so soon after waking.

“It's all over the TV Tim. You punched a reporter. Or at least the guy holding the camera. It's all over the news. They have you on camera- at least until it hit the pavement, and then the video cuts out.”

He whined and let his head fall back against the headboard.

“Oh my god, I can't believe I held out hope that the footage died with the camera...” he groaned. “In my defense I didn't know I was hitting a reporter, I just knew someone was following me, heard them coming up behind me, and thought I was about to get jumped.”

“In broad daylight? In a crowd?”

“I was tired and hadn't had enough coffee yet...” he muttered.

“Your only saving grace is that Vale went on to say that, not that it stopped her from making the story obviously, but on the plus side they are not pressing charges. Alfred's already gone through the motions of paying the medical costs and replacing the poor guy's equipment. You really clocked him good. Someone's going to be eating through a straw the next few weeks...”

“Oh my god, Dick, why...”

“Exactly what I want to know, why?” The man probed, and suddenly Tim wanted to just smother himself in his pillows, because he knew what was coming. “Are you being stalked? Because Vicki went into detail about how you had been afraid recently, weren't sleeping, and had been jumpy- causing you to over-react when they approached you.”

And yes, hadn't that been a stupid case of rambling for the record books...

“No, Dick, I was flustered and freaking out because I punched a civilian and trying to come up with some excuse that didn't lead to several months of sitting in court with lawyers.”

“Well, it did work.” The man laughed.

“Except now I'm yet again I'm poor Tim Drake-Wayne worried for his life, while I'm still in crutches from the last time, and the last thing I need is pity or for Wayne Enterprises to get all flustered and start trying to demand I have a body guard because they don't know.”

Dick sighed.

“Bruce can handle that. If he doesn't get a body guard after all the stuff that's happened to him rather than 'Batman', they sure can't try and force one on you. It'll work out, you'll see. But only if you're sure you're not being stalked- it's okay to be embarrassed Tim, but Bruce has had his fair share of crazies try and follow him around, it's nothing to be ashamed of if something is up.” He chirped lightly.

Tim only glared at the dark ceiling.

“I'm hanging up now.”

There was only laughter as he tapped his screen. Then only silence once more.

He wasn't getting out of bed...

#JayTim #Jason/Tim #Vampy's Fics

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noraarchontis · 5 years

Text

Don’t Fall

Chapter 4: An Error

Link: AO3 | FF

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It had been a while since Jason came out from his territory to patrol somewhere else. It was not something he normally did unless others need his help during their patrol. But, today was one of the days when he felt like he needed to get out from his comfort zone. It was never really a comfort zone to begin with since everyone’s territories were filled with criminals to fight with. Yet, he had heard from the family that the littlest of the family’s territory had an increase in crime numbers after it had been abandoned for a while by its supposed protector. Not that he complained about helping to calm the crime rates since it would be a good frustration management to take it out on all these criminals. But, the fact that the littlest Wayne didn’t tell anyone a thing about himself was what frustrated Jason the most.

If, at least, the first Robin had known about Damian’s reasoning for quitting Robin, Jason would have been fine. Yet, the fact that Dickie didn’t even know about it was what made him had the need to take the anger out to somewhere else. Often than not, he took it out on the face of the criminals with just enough power to take them out of their consciousness. Unless, it was more serious and life-threatening crimes. A few good punches and bruises wouldn’t hurt the face of the criminals since they had done nothing good in the society.

He sighed into the night as he jumped off from a roof of one building to another. He only stopped to listen to someone’s conversations in the dark alley of Gotham while keeping himself shadowed from the two guys.

Jason only reacted when the man pulled out a gun from his black jacket while threatening a man smaller than him. He jumped off the fire escape right into the man, knocking him off ground right into unconsciousness. He kicked the gun away before turning his head to the smaller guy in front of him who was looking at him with fear in his eyes.

“Heard you guys talking,” Jason started as he tried to analyze the person in front of him. “What are you doing here, kid?”

He had done his analysis. Though it was vague, he could see the person in front of him was an eighteen years old teenager with five foot four tall and more or less than a hundred thirty five pounds for weight. The kid was smaller for his age, just like Damian. Damian could have been lighter than the kid standing in front of him.

“He was trying to rob me,” the kid was shaking. “I- I owe him money but he wants to take more.”

Jason was not reacting to any of his talks yet. He stood there and tried to listen to his surrounding in case there were more criminals around then, he looked at the kid. The short and light-weighted kid in front of him who had the same appearance like his littlest brother.

“What do you need the money for?” Jason asked as he sent a signal to GCPD to pick up the unconscious man on the ground and to alert Batman of his location.

“Ma’s sick. Her medicine runs out and… dad’s gone,” the kid replied, calmer than before.

With that, Jason let out a sigh and reached his back pocket to get any money he had left from his dinner. He took out a hundred and fifty dollars, the only cash he had, before pressing it to the kid’s hand

“Scoot, boy.” Jason said as he watched the kid ran out from the dark alley. “Don’t get caught again,” the boy disappeared into the crowd.

Jason looked at the guy on the ground as he could hear the police siren went off and got closer to the alley he was in. He noted to himself to visit the manor after he was done patrolling. Not only to visit the old mansion, Alfred, and the old Bat, but maybe he could see Damian before his day job called him.

Yeah, that would be perfect, Jason thought and added an extra note for himself to stop at the grocery store to get something to bring to the littlest and lightest kid in the whole goddamn world - their Damian Wayne.

It was past one in the morning when he arrived in the cave that was still so lively despite the timing of his arrival. The lights were on and so did someone who was typing something onto the computer. He saw Bruce behind the big computer, working on something as he turned around to see the person who had just announced his arrival to the ‘home’. Jason didn’t say anything as Bruce looked at him and the brown paper bag he had on his hand. Jason knew - he knew there was something to talk about, yet it was like a taboo. A taboo that no one ever wanted to talk about unless they wanted to get into trouble with the old bat or get emotional with the eldest Robin.

Jason sighed quietly as he walked closer to where Bruce was sitting to see the data that were analyzed by the computer. No one said a thing as both of them were just looking at the big screen as if watching everything evolved into something completely different. Bruce didn't say a thing when Jason finally moved away from the big screens; he only glanced at the brown paper bag before turning his attention to something completely different.

“Have you talked to Damian lately?” The question just hung in the air after Jason opened his mouth.

Bruce couldn't face him. No, perhaps that was the wrong word to use. Bruce couldn't bear to look at his biological son in the eyes and knowing that his son - Damian - had something to hide from him. That Damian, the son he loved, was old enough to actually hide something from his own father and acted like nothing ever happened. These were the reasons why he couldn't even talk to his own son. Though he had secretly visited his son during his sleep, he knew it was different than actually talking to him as father and son.

Jason saw the look in Bruce’s face. The apologetic look of a father for not doing what he was supposed to do - an apologetic look of not knowing what to do. He didn't pressed him further. No, Jason wasn't that heartless to begin with and even if he wanted to do it, he would have done it a lot earlier than just stretching the long waited silence of doom.

“Dickie and Timmy pressed him into talking but they failed,” Jason paused and looked at the expression Bruce made before continuing again. “Damian cried when Dick kept asking him. Told Dickie that he would tell him when the time is right or he's ready.”

“But, he's not ready to tell us anything yet.” Bruce firmly said like he was declaring the truth everyone needed to know.

Jason quietly nodded his head as he walked back toward Bruce’s direction. He dug something from the brown bag he had been holding on before handing it to the old man. Bruce was surprised when Jason had actually tried to make an effort for Damian; but for him to actually support Bruce to rekindle the strain relationship he had with Damian, it was something uncalled for.

“He enjoyed the first novel of this trilogy,” Jason explained. “Thought he might enjoy the second and third novels as well.”

Bruce just looked at the novels on his hand. Two novels from the modern and well-known suspense fiction writer of Stephen King. Praise for Mr. Mercedes, he read and continued, and Finder’s Keeper, on the back of End of Watch - the newest book.

Bruce smiled as he noticed the word ‘Detective’ written on the back of the novel. He didn't know that Damian was reading the first book of the trilogy, but he surely loved suspense and many different kind of genres.

“Thank you, son.” His voice was low, grateful, if that didn't convince anyone, then his smile would. “I'll give this to him tomorrow, maybe it will open him up.”

“No worries, old man,” Jason replied. “I'm staying for the night. Don't stay up too late, B.”

With that Jason walked away from the cave to the stairs that led toward the manor. He made a mental note of dropping some perishable stuffs in the kitchen for Alfred to make one of his infamous delicious pancakes and cupcakes. It was a longshot but maybe, just maybe, it would brighten up the little kid’s face from the tension the whole family seemed to give him.

Jason laughed at himself for a reason - a reason that he would never thought he could give. He cared about the kid. He actually gave a fuss about him suddenly withdrawing himself from the role he was supposed to play as. Maybe Jason was actually surprised that he cared about something and someone.

Regardless of that, all he wanted was for the kid to be like he was before. Just Damian Wayne being the Damian Wayne he had always been.

He had finally fallen asleep. It was already dawn when he did, and he was stressing to himself just how much a sleep could make a difference for him. The difficulty of falling asleep never bothered him. It never did until he had seen exhaustion washing his little brother away like the sand swept away by the ocean. The moment exhaustion came to his littlest brother, he couldn’t get away from it and just flown with it as if he never had the intention of ever fighting it at all.

Yet, Tim knew Damian was never the one to actually get exhausted easily. He was never the one to just rest right away when he was tired, unless he was really exhausted to the bone. Now, Damian took a lot of rest time for a reason no one could comprehend. Tim saw him all around the house just for resting. Many times he found Damian sleeping it off inside his room with his giant dog and loyal cat accompanying him. However, there were times when he found him lying on the ground of the most unused library of the manor. He was just lying on the floor as if he had fainted and hadn't woken up from it.

Titus and Alfred were always there like a loyal and quiet companions they were. The giant dog always curled around him, resting its head on the left side of his master’s chest as if checking his master’s heartbeat while Damian slept off his exhaustion. Alfred the cat would be there too. Sometimes, he would call out to anyone in the house and leading them to where his master’s sleeping. Often times, Tim was the one who always found him and the cat always walked ahead of him to direct him to where their boy was sleeping. He didn't really do anything about Damian other than covering him with blanket after picking him up from the carpeted-floor to his bedroom. He was even surprised that Damian didn't wake up from the noises he, Titus, and Alfred’s made.

It never bothered him that Damian slept really easily, but it bothered him of how easily exhausted Damian was.

Tim grunted by the moment he woke up from his not-so-night sleep. He stretched his arms and looked at the mess his bedroom had become as he passed out by working himself through-and-through. Papers were scattered all around his bed onto the floor along with two other files that were still intact on the bedside table. Tim sighed; looking at all the mess his bed had become before he scrambled through the bed to get out from the mess he made. Alfred would be furious, he knew and took off the shirt and pants he wore before throwing it to the pile of laundry inside the bathroom.

He stumbled his way into the tub to take a shower, turned on the water and let the water washed away the sleepiness that was still in his brain. The cold water felt good on his skin; it awaken him from the tiredness he had felt from working hard last night. Tim breathed in and out slowly, calming his mind then he heard someone knocking on the door of his bedroom. He also heard his name was called by an older and raspy voice of the butler of the house.

“Master Timothy?”

“Be out in a minute, Alfred.” Tim said as he quickly washed off. He knew Alfred would clean his messy bedroom and at least, turning it into a proper room for humans to stay in.

Tim dried himself off as he walked into the walk-in-closet to get his clothes. A simple white shirt and black short pants were what he chose as he was not going to the office for any meetings or work. He threw the towel to the pile of laundry. Alfred was going to take from his bathroom, and it was probably laundry day for Alfred, the only reason the butler waited until Tim finished his shower.

“Sorry for the mess, Alfred,” Tim walked out from the closet, turned the knob of his bathroom door to unlock it. “I’ll clean it up as soon as possible.” The butler smiled at the statement as he went inside to take the laundry bag off from the room.

“I’m sure you will clean it up, Master Tim.”

Tim smiled, headed toward the bed to take some of the pile and place it on the table. It was quiet. No one really talked then, they focused on cleaning up the papers that were scattered everywhere. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, but there was a tension in the silence that Tim dislike.

“What are we having for lunch, Alfred?” Tim asked, hands filled with piles of paper that were ready to be transported to the cave. “I'm starving.”

The older man smiled back as he handed the two unopened files back to Tim’s hands.

“Master Jason made blueberries pancakes for breakfast, the leftovers are in the fridge if you would like some,” Alfred said, adding to Tim’s surprised since Jason had rarely came back to the manor. “I have made almond salad and beef lasagna for lunch. Master Jason has also prepared vanilla pudding and ice cream for everyone.”

Tim nodded at the explanation. He wondered the reason for Jason’s visit but never asked Alfred for it.

He figured he didn't need an explanation. Why bothered to ask one now?

“I will head down now, Master Tim. Lunch should be ready in a few minutes.”

“Damian?”

Alfred turned, looked at him from the door, and smiled. His hands were occupied with Tim’s laundry bag and some files ready to be moved to the cave.

“Master Damian should be in his room,” Alfred paused; taking the clothes on the side chair. “Master Jason was in there for a while before Master Dick came and accompanied him until just now.”

He nodded in acknowledgment. Alfred was almost out the door.

“He should be alone right now.”

The door was shut tight as the older man went on his chores of the day. Tim wondered if Alfred knew anything but decided to save it for later.

Now, he had a new destination to go to.

He was here, in front of Damian’s room. Tim knew Damian was should be awake now since he was already bothered by their older brothers. He knocked and heard the noises of a dog tag along with Titus’ barking at the door as if allowing whoever in front of the door to come in. Yet, the barking was immediately and gently hushed by the person inside the room.

He opened the door; welcomed himself until he saw Damian lying on his bed with his eyes closed.

“Damian?”

No answer.

“Damian,” he called again. “Lunch is ready, and Alfred wants you to go down.”

Still, silence filled the room. Only the quiet jiggle of dog’s tag filled the room along with a slow meow from the cat.

Tim entered the room with Titus and Alfred the cat welcoming him. The big dog walked closer to him, wagged his tail in excitement of someone finally visiting their master again after a short period of quietness. He petted the great dane’s head and closed the door.

“Damian.”

Damian didn't open his eyes, but his breathing was steady.

“Hey,” Tim shook the body; Damian’s was strangely cold for the summer heat. “Lunch is ready. Are you going down to eat?”

Titus whined, catching Tim’s attention, as the big dog walked to Damian’s bedside, kept his head low, and sniffed the carpet like something fell onto the carpet and couldn't be retrieved without human’s help.

Tim walked toward the dog to find papers scattered on the floor and underneath the bed along with its envelope. They were still intact; the papers weren't torn apart, probably just flew from the bedside table. He picked it up, all five pages and organized it accordingly; he also grabbed the envelope and flipped it to see the sender of the mail. Gotham City Hospital was written on the front of the envelope including its address and logo. He didn’t suspect a thing, not until he saw Damian’s name on the top of the page including all other general informations such as age, address, and others.

Tim turned to check on Damian before reading the paper. The babybat was still asleep, breathing steady, and eyes shut tight. He knew this was disrespectful of him, to read something that wasn't his to begin with and to know a disclosed information without its owner knowing. However, if this could explain the sudden change in Damian’s behavior and withdrawal from their vigilante life, then it would be worth it.

It had to be worth it.

The detective read through it, carefully one-by-one as it revealed information about Damian’s blood test in many different detailed ways. Most of them were normal, some were lower than average, yet there were some higher at least by forty to fifty percent. Tim frowned; unable to explain the reason for such a detailed blood test to be performed. He believed that Damian could have asked Alfred to do the blood test, but the result came from an actual laboratory in the hospital.

Not from Alfred.

Titus barked; his innocent eyes looking at Tim as the loyal companion turned to his master’s sleeping body and whines. His paws and head were resting on the bed, probably worried for his master hadn't woken up from the long and too early morning nap.

“Shush…” Tim gently quiet the big dog from making anymore noises while his hands slowly strokes the strong head.

He slowed himself down, unwilling to make any judgments, statements, or predictions with the lack of evidence. Yet, he was trying hard to connect the two dots: Damian’s resignation and the blood test. Maybe, just maybe a little bit too hard.

Tim exhaled before taking in the oxygen to fill his brain with a new dose of patience. The paper was now folded and tucked away in his pocket; he had to discuss this with a certain someone before he could take any further actions.

“Will you keep this a secret, Titus?” The dog turned and gave a low whine, his right paw on Tim’s lap.

Damian didn't show any sign of waking up or even noticing that someone was in his room.

“Don't tell Damian that I'm taking this for a while, okay?” He petted the dog’s head, and Titus wagged his tail again.

Tim stood from the floor, walked toward the door, and left Damian with his companions. He only turned to see Titus sitting on the floor, looking at him, and Alfred the cat curling up on Damian’s right side gently while flopping its tail on his master’s chest.

Damian was still asleep, and Tim noted to himself that this should be brought to Alfred’s attention or Bruce. Tim was never the one to see Damian napping this early in the morning, but he knew someone should, at least, wake him up for lunch.

Tim sighed; he left the room, quietly closed the door with hope that he could talk to Damian about what he had found. But, he knew it would be impossible. There was no way he could talk to Damian about it personally without the whole family figuring it out. After all, their family was notorious for having zero privacy; sometimes for the good of the family.

Titus barked repeatedly at the door while jumping at the doorknob to open the door by himself. It was loud, real loud that it stirred Damian awake from the short nap he was having. He grunted, slightly annoyed that his nap was disturbed by a loud noise that he didn't know how long it had been. The great dane fell silent once the door was opened and a head popped in to see the inside of the room.

“Is everything alright, Master Damian? I heard Titus barking miles from the hallway.”

His eyes were closed but the moment he knew it was Alfred, the tension on his shoulders were gone. He was relieved because he could drop his defense and act in front of the old butler since Alfred was the only one who knew and helped Damian covering everything from his family. The butler disagreed with the idea, but Damian had promised that he would tell everything after he figured out what happened to his own body. So far, Alfred was the most up-to-date with everything about him.

“You may come in, Alfred.” Damian said as he sat down on the bed with his back covering the door. “Everything is fine; Titus’ energy is a little higher in the afternoon.”

“Well then,” Alfred closed the door as he stepped inside with a cup of tea in his hand. “I suggest you take him for a walk later in the afternoon. Today’s temperature is cooler than other days, and the backyard has a stunning view of the sunset.”

Damian smiled; his face was sore but he still smiled though Alfred couldn’t see it.

“Thank you for the information, Alfred,” he heard Alfred placing a cup carefully on his study table. “I will make sure Titus and Alfred get the walk and exercise they need.”

There was always something calming and peaceful when talking to Alfred, and Damian definitely felt it now that he had gone closer with the much older man of the house. He still respected him, of course. But, Alfred was not more than a grandpa for him than to anyone else. His wisdom and care for the family were endless and could not be replaced for anything else. Damian definitely respect and love him for that.

“Well, the lunch is ready, Master Damian.” The sound of Alfred’s shoes were growing closer to his side. “Would you like me to bring it here, or would you rather eat with the family? It’s a full house today. Miss Stephanie, Cassandra, and Miss Barbara are joining us as well.”

He opened his eyes. No, scratched that, Damian was trying to open his eyes when he realized that he failed.

His eyes weren't opening.

No, panicked overcame him.

“Al… Alfred…” Something was wrong, and he didn’t know how to fix it. He was shaking, hands covering his eyes and fingers trying to force his eyelids open. “I… I can’t open my eyes.”

No, no, no, no, no…were the only thing he could scream inside of his mind.

He was fucked. There was no way of going out from the room with this.

“What do you mean, Master Damian?” Alfred knelt on the ground, hands covering Damian’s hands, and gently remove it from the eyes he was hiding it under. His hands gently brushed over the eyelids to take a look at them before doing anything with it.

“Please, please, calm down. You will be fine, sir.” Reassurance, he knew he needed it, especially in times like this. “I will take a look at it. Let me know if it hurts, alright?”

Damian could only nod; his hands were shaking because this had never happened before. It was never this bad, but again he never knew which were the beginning, the bad, the worse, and the end of this changes. Since it happened randomly and truly changed his life, it was never the same anymore. After a couple need of saving from his family in the field and on certain missions, he knew he needed to drop the mantle.

He knew he needed to give up Robin.

Then, everything else related to it.

He was scared to do it at first, but it had to be done. And, he had done it with any possible reasons he could possibly come up with. When he realized there were none at all, he gave up on ever finding one and just came out to the family with it. He had noted to himself to apologize to Tim for creating such misunderstanding; it was probably for the best, for both him and Tim. Since Tim was forcefully removed from Robin by Dick, their relationship had been about nothing but hatred. By doing this, maybe, just maybe, Damian was trying to mend their relationship back.

It was ages ago, but he knew how painful it must had been for Tim. To be forcefully removed, to be thrown aside - just like a rejection.

Alfred continued to message Damian’s eyelids tenderly while applying little pressure to relax the muscle underneath. Damian flinched and gasped a couple times from the pain it brought to him, regardless he didn't stop Alfred from doing his job.

“How is it now?” Alfred asked; his hands withdrew from Damian’s face, allowing Damian to try again. “Are you able to open your eyes, sir?”

He tried again, and no longer panicking since it could also be another reason for his eyes not opening. He took a deep breath and tried for the third times.

Nope, still none.

“No, I tried Alfred but I can’t,” he was pleading. He knew he needed help. “What do I do? What do I do?”

There was desperation in his voice. He was scared; yet when those calming hands covered his, he quiet down all the voices screaming inside of his head.

“They will be looking for me if I don't join lunch. They will find me like this, Alfred.” The grab on Alfred’s hands were tighter; his young master, his own grandson, was afraid of anyone finding his condition. “I can't allow them to see me like this, Alfred. They shouldn't see me in such condition.”

“Shhh…” Alfred’s hands were not holding his anymore, instead they were on the youngest Wayne’s shoulders to straighten him before pulling those chin up to see his face. It was hard to keep himself composed when looking at the child in front of him being so vulnerable, afraid, and scared of his own family knowing his unknown condition. He knew his grandson wanted to have control over everything he could possibly had, especially his body. But, in times like this when his conditions just hit him without a warning, it became harder to cover it from the family.

It became harder because he wanted to break it - Alfred, the one who promised to cover for his grandson, wanted to break their promise. He was getting too old for secrets, yet Damian trusted him for a reason that he would like to believe was wrong. His grandson believed that his family would not understand his condition, would treat him differently, and this was the result: Damian isolating himself from everyone else.

Alfred breathed in and out as he made Damian turned to face him though he couldn’t see him.

“Would you like me to drive you to the hospital? You will need to call the doctor to inform him about this beforehand.”

Alfred asked and continued; his hands were steady though Damian’s hands shivered slightly.

Damian could only nod with his hands holding Alfred’s wrists like a lifeline. The grandpa smiled in returned while hiding a little bit of sadness in the back of his eyes. He knew not to cry or shed tears in times like this.

“I doubt he could see me; however, if I tell him about my condition, maybe he would.” Damian paused as if considering another viable option when his plan should fail.

“Are you considering something, else, Master Damian?”

Damian’s shoulders were tensed again, and he bet Alfred could feel it too. And, God… Damian looked like a child shivering because of everything that was happening.

“I… was considering doctor Thompkins, shall everything else fail.” Another paused as he released his hands from Alfred’s wrists. “She should know a thing or two though I hate going to her like this.”

The glass clattered against the window, allowing them to return back to the reality of everything. He released his grip from the young master’s shoulders as it relaxed again.

“Alright, I shall prepare the car and help you get ready,” Alfred was already standing up and ready to do anything he needed for his grandson. “As for the family, I will tell what they need to know about your absence. Though, I believe they will want to have some times with you after everything.”

Another nod but this time, Titus’s head was on Damian’s lap while Alfred the cat purred beside his right. They were there the moment they saw the butler stood up to do something else. They were there because they could feel their master’s remorse and pain, yet there were nothing they could do but to comfort him according to their ways.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “I apologize for including you into this...mess, Alfred. But, I thank you for helping me. Keeping this safe from the family. Thank you.”

His heart stopped beating and just swelled with love and affection for the boy in front of him. He was crying; there were tears flowing from his eyes but he silently wiped it away because he knew his grandson would worry. And, worry was the last thing he wanted Damian to feel right now, especially worrying about him.

He wrapped his hands around Damian and pulled him in for a hug. The hug only tighten when Alfred felt the shivers coming from the boy. He kissed his grandson's forehead and hair before muttering words of reassurances and promises.

“You will be fine, my boy. You will be fine.” He felt Damian turned to hide his face in his shoulder. “I’ll inform the family once you are in the car and ready to go, does that sound good?”

Damian sobbed, and Alfred’s heart was heartbreaking because the urges of breaking the promises were there again. Yet, he quiet those urges down until they became silence.

“Yes, I’m sorry for crying. Would you help me get ready?” The younger man wiped his tears away. Alfred could hear Titus whining beside him as if feeling his master’s pain. “It’s hard to get ready when I can’t see anything in front of me.”

Alfred smiled as he took his handkerchief to wipe the small droplets of tears on his face.

“Do not apologize for showing emotions, Master Damian. And, I will help you get ready, and going down the stairs after I have prepared the car in front.”

Damian smiled before muttering the last,

“Thank you, Grandfather.”

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