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devilfic · 3 months

Text

❝honeymoon❞

III. on the clock.

parts: previously plot: your mother has been conducting business with some pretty shady business partners and it puts you in danger. thankfully, saving you is in your husband's job description. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: arranged marriage, friends to enemies to (fake) lovers, implied history between reader and bruce, violence, bruce being a little Bossy, use of the gender neutral honorific "mx" (feel free to insert mr. or mrs. there if you like). words: 2.1k.

a/n: been watching a bit of supergirl lately and I'm a big fan of the "supergirl is lena's scary guard dog" dynamic they've got going on. got inspired

You suck in a breath between barely parted lips before the smoke hits you in a cloud. Thick, pungent. You hold your breath even as the smoke tickles your eyes, makes them water, until it clears and all you're left with is the bastard sitting across from you, "I understand that it might be... upsetting to hear, but Wayne Enterprises thanks you for all you've done during our partnership."

Cigar hanging from the jaws of a wolf, Mr. Carpinelli is hardly upset. He's grinning around the head of his cigar when he tells you, "You're making a big fucking mistake." He's furious.

You keep your head held high, "Again, I deeply apologize for how abrupt this must be. As acting CEO, I have had to make some tough decisions in the past but this is by far one of the toughest." You bite the lie out, appearing sweet and docile. "You were one of our best. We will be looking forward to all Carpinelli & Sons' future business ventures."

You hear the hacking in his throat before it lands on the ground in front of your feet: a fat, muddy glob of spit sits a (thankful) hair away from your shoe, and even you can't bother to hide your scowl.

You let him smoke in your (Bruce's) office. You let him kick his feet up on your desk. You even let him have some of the good brandy, and watched him gobble it up like four ounces of the stuff didn't cost the full price of his pretty snakeskin shoes.

And he spit at you.

Mr. Carpinelli stands to his feet and puts his cigar out on your desk and really, that should have did it for you, but you bite your tongue until you taste blood. Then he points one fat finger at you, about as fat as the Corojo burning a ring in your desk, "Tell your bitch of a mother she should've told me herself."

"My bitch of a mother didn't give the order," and your venom is not on behalf of your mother, lest anyone be mistaken, "I did."

Something flickers in Carpinelli's eyes. Without another word, he leaves the office in a flourish, and you sink back into your chair only when your ears cease ringing.

Bruce is delighted. Or you think he might be. You weren't certain what delight looked like on him these days, but the solid "OK" in response is enough for you to focus on your shaking. You remind yourself that you're not out of the woods yet, and that Carpinelli was only one half of the dastardly duo you needed to break up. Eventually, or rather, imminently, she would find out what you'd done. It'd be better to break the news in person before she got word from Carpinelli herself.

But Bruce approved. Bruce, who'd been on the same page as you when you'd brought up the idea, who'd left you in less despair than when he'd found you, agreed with you. Your mother be damned and damned should she be, you at least had Bruce on your side.

You step out into humidity and immediately one of the doormen flanks you, rushing to open your car door for you with a "Goodnight, Mx. Wayne" and a "get home safe" that goes in one ear and out the other. You just barely have the wits about you to return the pleasantry, climbing into the backseat of your car with your hand halfway to the collar of your coat when you freeze.

Across from you is Mr. Carpinelli, smiling around another cigar. How the smell of it hadn't hit you when you first sat down was far beyond you. The car jerks into Gotham city traffic without a hitch. A glance in the rear-view tells you that this is not your usual driver.

You're trying really hard to not let this get to you.

"I forgot to say before: congratulations on the nuptials."

"We're not married just yet."

Carpinelli raises an eyebrow, "But you still make the help call you Wayne?"

"Can I help you with something, Mr. Carpinelli?" It takes some hidden strength in you to keep the shake out of your voice, "Perhaps I wasn't clear enough before?"

The mob boss stretches his leg until his foot is pressing into the bottom of your seat, those same pretty snakeskin shoes marred by mucky rainwater. You turn your knees away but feel the water drip onto your ankle. You resist the severe urge to drive an ice pick through his skull.

"I called your mommy after our little conversation," your blood runs cold, "and she told me to disregard your little... power trip." He blows a ring of smoke, "So no bad blood here."

"Did she, now?"

"Mhm. Seemed pretty pissed, too. Hope she doesn't ground ya."

"You seem to think it's her name on the building."

"It ain't yours."

"Yet."

Carpinelli laughs, brushing some ash onto the carpet, "Funny. How that works." And he sits up, crouching in front of you with his cigar raised above your knee. His other hand clutches it in his meaty palm. His cigar is close enough to the skin that you can feel the heat coming off of it, all the while struggling against suffocating on the smoke. Your phone is in your coat pocket and there'd be no way to discreetly get to it with him this close. "Listen, doll. I'm doing this as a courtesy. I don't usually give people the chance to piss me off twice."

The panic button in all Wayne Enterprises vehicles is under the seat, however.

Carpinelli keeps talking and you take your hands out of your lap, leaning forward and feigning that you're listening. All the while, your fingers are stretching under the seat, searching for that little, tiny, infinitesimal-

The car rocks violently as something heavy lands on top of it with a thud. It shocks Carpinelli enough that he lets your knee go, turning his head up to the ceiling, "What the fuck was that?"

The driver knows just as much as the two of you do. You feel him jerk the car straight, but before he can pull over to check what made the sound, a fist punches through the roof of the car.

It's enough to make Carpinelli fall over like a bumbling buffoon.

He doesn't get very long to collect himself. The metal of the roof is being torn back, making an ugly sound as the hole gets bigger. You manage to locate the panic button just in time to see a hand reach down into the car and grip Carpinelli by the front of his suit and... and snatch him out.

The driver nearly crashes the car into a building trying to pull to a stop, fumbling futilely for the handgun at his side, but another hole is punched into the roof above his head and he's dragged out just as dramatically as Carpinelli.

Before you can be stolen too, you crawl to the front and unlock the car before throwing your full weight against the door to escape.

Outside, you find the driver splayed out on the sidewalk, out cold. On the street, Carpinelli is crawling away on all fours from... your husband. In all his caped glory.

"I-I didn't do nothing! I swear!" Carpinelli cries. You watch, however, as Bruce plods up to him. He ignores his pleas for mercy and yanks him up by the collar once more. Carpinelli's feet dangle inches off the ground.

"Who'd you pay off?" Bruce's voice barely carries over the noise of the city, but you hear it from where you're crouched behind the car.

"Wh... what? What are you talking about?" Bruce violently shakes Carpinelli and you watch as the smaller man grips at his arm for dear life. "I swear to God, I got no idea what you're talking about!"

"Your driver. Not your car. Who did you pay off?"

Carpinelli's eyes are wild. You've never seen true fear like that before, "Nobody! Nobody. My guy stole the keys and badge off the other driver. That's all!" When Bruce doesn't immediately release him, the mob boss keeps squealing, "T-The driver's in the boiler room. Knocked out cold. He's not dead. I promise."

Seconds might as well be minutes as you and Carpinelli hold your breaths. Waiting for the Batman's judgment.

Bruce yanks Carpinelli toward the car, rams his head into the trunk, and lets the unconscious mob boss roll under the boot.

After a few stuttered breaths, you stand to your feet.

Bruce doesn't raise his head from where he'd been staring down Carpinelli, but his eyes flit to you in an instant. Stepping over the bottom half of your abductor, Bruce makes his way around to you.

You're gearing up to tell him you're alright when his hands find both sides of your face, effectively silencing you, "Did he hurt you?"

You tremble. The adrenaline rush was falling steadily, but Bruce hasn't touched you like this since... since... since before he began to hate you.

His eyes are all full of concern though, the clearest his expression has been toward you since this whole engagement kicked off in the first place. You feel like you're really seeing him right now and it's too delicate for you to grasp. You wade in it a little longer, selfishly, "You got here just in time. Before I even hit the panic button, I- how?"

You're surprised to find Bruce suddenly timid. He releases your cheeks and despite the dewy heat of early summer, you crave the warmth of his hands instantaneously. "There's a bug in the office."

You blink, "Come again?"

"The cars, too."

"Like... recently, or..." Bruce gives you a look that says "I think you know the answer to that". Somehow, this is more chilling than almost being kidnapped. "Do you... listen to everything?"

"Do you have something to hide?"

No, you want to say, just hours of me singing to myself, ranting to the wall, and unscheduled visits from my mother about how I should baby trap you. Surely, if he'd heard any of that, he'd have sued your mother into oblivion and this whole marriage would have been done for. You swallow down the panic and shake your head, "Not really, no."

Sirens in the distance grow louder as they reach your destination, and sure enough, the signal to the GCPD had gone through without a hitch. Several cop cars round the corner and Bruce carries Carpinelli and the driver's body out into the street for them to pick up.

You glance between him and the first cop that pulls up, "I should... probably grab another ride to my mother's. She's going to be furious about... well, everything."

But before you can walk away, Bruce grips your upper arm and pulls you back into his side, making you stumble and grab onto his chest. You stare up at him, bewildered. Bruce grunts. "That can wait. I'm taking you home."

"But the police-"

"Emilio Carpinelli? Is it my birthday, Batman?" One of the cops snickers as he walks up, handcuffs at the ready, "What happened here?"

Bruce cuts you off before you can answer, "Attempted kidnapping and criminal threat toward the Wayne Enterprises CEO. Carpinelli admitted to the assault of the Waynes' driver, as well as stealing his badge and keys. Send a car to Wayne Enterprises to retrieve the driver from the boiler room. That's all he admitted to."

"Will do. And you, Mx. Wayne? Sure hope he didn't get his filthy paws on ya."

You shake your head, "No, thank goodness. Batman arrived just in time."

The cop nods, "Well, we'll probably need to bring you in for further questioning. Just to corroborate the story in fuller detail."

"Tomorrow. Bruce Wayne wants them back home now."

The cop looks between you and Batman, eyes narrowing in confusion. Eventually, they land back on you for confirmation, "Yes," you breathe, leaning into Bruce's side with intention now, "my husband- well, fiancé is very worried. But I'll be happy to stop by the precinct bright and early tomorrow morning, if that's alright?"

And it's not like the guy is gonna argue with you when your kidnapping lead to the arrest of one of the biggest dons running Gotham City. He leaves you and Bruce with a nod and a call to stay safe.

But as Bruce leads you in the direction of what is slowly appearing to be the "Batmobile", you pry his hand off your arm and hold it in between you instead, "Mr. Wayne wants me home, you said?"

Bruce pointedly ignores the teasing in your tone, "God forbid someone else tries to make off with you."

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes @angxlictexrs @moonlightreader649 @geekyfer @thescarletfang @navs-bhat @yehet-moi-ohorat @bluestuesday

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne scenarios #bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne #batman x reader #batman scenarios #batman fic #the batman #battinson x reader #battinson #dc #mjwrites

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deaddovedecadence · 3 months

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Hello, how do you think the batfam will react to a reader with bad habits? And the reader is underage. Like at one time the reader got into not the best company or just wanted to seem cool, and now she smokes, maybe reader abuses alcohol. I'm just wondering how the batfamcan handle this.

And I apologize for the English, I am writing with a translator

❤

Alfred

disapproving english eyebrow™️

no but seriously he’s have you detoxing the minute he finds out about it. Having a nice drink at dinner with the family is fine but only if he’s able to supervise what you are drinking and how much. He’s be damned if he has to deal with another bruce

Bruce Wayne

doesn’t panic, even if his brain is screaming at him to trap you away forever and keep you from everything that could hurt you.

Calls in Dinah to talk to you about what is and isn’t safe for you because he will fuck it up and if he fucks you up after all of this progress that you guys have been making, duke will be the cause of his murder

Dick Grayson

oldest daughter exhaustion because he does NOT want to deal with another jason-smoking-to-fuck-with-bruce-and-becoming-addicted situation.

Tells you that if you don’t knock it off he will make you and is smiling while promising that you will not enjoy his methods

Jason Todd

panics his ass off

He yells at you for being stupid because he’s trying to quit and how did you get into that and why did you ever think it’s a smart idea and just panics in general

Cassandra Cain

thinks that it’s easily solvable, most reasonable

She starts you excerising with her every single time you get the urge so that you literally can’t move your arms anymore. Duke often joins in and eventually it becomes a form of bonding for the three of you

Duke Thomas

he gets you patches or helps wean you off of it because they’re a good sibling like that.

honestly to themself, takes the time to think about whether they want to keep you addicted and act like the good sibling by keeping you supplied increasing your dependence on them but then realizes that his brain is getting a little too demony for their taste and stops

Tim Drake

makes you listen as he lists every side effect of every substance that you are taking

threatens the crowd that you were with if you don’t start quitting immediately. Feels a cold quit is good punishment for being on substances in the first place

Damian Wayne

thinks it’s stupid and yells at you, considers violence but is restrained by duke and dick

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schrijverr · 5 months

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Batman Fatale

While on a mission with the Justice League, Batman (who hasn’t revealed his secret identity) pulls out his Brucie voice, shocking the others.

Inspired by Head Problems by That_One_Curly_Haired_Fangirl on AO3.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none

~~~~

The Justice League is going for stealth, something Bruce didn’t think they were capable off, but so far he’s been pleasantly surprised. Though, maybe the promise of a good brawl later is what is keeping them quiet.

They’re infiltrating into Luthor’s office, underneath which he is building a robot army to overtake the world in the name of peace. Hacking in to disable them means sounding the alarm and Bruce has already calculated that it will take too long for him not to get swarmed by them, before he can take them out. Hence, the League, who will keep them off his back while he works.

However, they’ve run into a bit of roadblock in the form of the security guard, who is manning the front desk during the night shift.

Everyone has thrown out ideas to take him out, but Bruce wants to attract attention as late as possible and there are likely human operatives further down as well. They’ll notice if the guard were to disappear.

Besides, the guy, Amir, cleared his background check when he was planning this mission. He doesn’t know what he’s guarding and is just trying to make ends meat.

So, he holds up his hand and the whispered deliberation quiets down. As he pulls out his phone, he says: “I’ll handle this. Wait for my orders.”

They all shoot him confused and wary looks as he sets to dialing on his phone, keeping the screen away from them. He can say that it hurts that they don’t fully trust him, but he doesn’t care. He has his own family/team back in Gotham and if being a mysterious prick keeps his kids safe, he’ll gladly play the part.

He knew this roadblock might come up, so he prepared in advance. So, within seconds he is bringing the phone to his ear, while the others continue to look between him and the guard that’s on the other side of the glass doors.

Bruce mentally laughs, they probably expect assassins to swoop down and drag the man into the shadows.

Which is the opposite of what happens, because instead Amir startles then looks down at his now ringing phone. He smiles, then looks around a bit, checking that the coast is clear and completely missing the League, before picking up.

As Amir looks around, Hal hisses: “What the hell are you doing, Spooks? You don’t call the guy you wanna sneak-”

He shuts him up with a hand over his mouth, because Amir has picked up now. “Hey, hi, uhm, how are you doing, John?”

John is the fake name he used on the dating profile with the doctored photos. He feels a little bad about catfishing him, it’s slimy and Amir is actually cute too. Still, can’t be helped, so he puts as much Brucie charm into his voice as he flirty replies: “Hi, Amir, I’m good, just lonely. Would be better if you were with me. I’m practically indecent here for you.”

Immediately all the League’s heads snap his way, but he ignores them in favor of observing Amir. He is blushing, but looks pleased, before he sags a little. “I would love you, you’re so handsome-”

“I’d prefer pretty,” Bruce interrupts. “If you’re letting me down, at least call me pretty so I’ll know what it’ll sound like from you.”

Now Amir’s darker skin gets even more dark as he continues to blush. He stammers: “No, no, no. Not letting you down. Fuck. You’re so pretty, John. Of course I’m not letting you down. I’m just working, pretty boy, just working.”

“Booo,” Bruce whines, knowing how to sound appealing instead of annoying, albeit a little spoiled. “Can’t you just have a little break? Where do you work? I can come over, little blowie in the ally on a smoke break never hurt anybody.”

Amir groans at the offer, leaning back in his chair and looking at the ceiling, feeling a little despair by the look on his face. “I could get fired,” he protests, but it’s weak. Got him.

Bruce knows that he’s going to get fired anyway for letting them pass, but at least like this he’s out of harm’s way. He’s planning on offering him a job anyway. So, he insists again: “Promise I’ll get you off before they notice. It’ll tide me over until they let you go and you can show me what a proper good time is.”

Now Amir is looking around, no one except the League (who are all still staring and he wishes they’d stop) to see. So, he relents: “Alright, I work at the Luthor office. Uptown, you know it?”

“Oh my god, you’re kidding?” Bruce laughs in his most ditzy Brucie voice. “I’m literally at one of the bars down the street.”

“And what are you doing there?” Amir asks, trying to sound flirty, but coming across as a little insecure. It’s cute on him.

Bruce imagines himself twirling the phone cord at this point as he bats his eyes through his voice as he says: “Feeling lonely and thinking about you.”

Amir looks relieved at that, straightening up again as he asks: “Well, I can change one part of that for you. How fast can you get here?”

“Like two minutes,” Bruce answers.

“Meet you in the alley on the left then,” Amir says. “See you soon.”

“See you soon, handsome,” Bruce greets back, before hanging up. The second the line is dead, he reverts back to Batman’s voice and grunts: “Get ready to move.”

“What the fuck was that, Batman!” Hal is unsurprisingly the first to break. He never does know how to keep his mouth shut during stealth missions.

“Are you still Batman? Please tell me you’re still Batman. Because if you’ve been replaced by some alien, shape shifter or pod person, I don’t know what to do with myself. So you have to be Batman, even though Batman is creepy and mean and stand-offish and not flirty and-”

“Flash, quiet,” Bruce cuts of the rambling of the speedster. He’s not in the mood.

“You can at least tell us how you know the guard,” Clark speaks up, going for firm leader. Bruce can respect him for trying to lead these people who are all obviously not used to working as a team nor good at it. But the boy scout act sometimes gets on Bruce’s nerves.

He’s sure his kids and Alfred will have something to say about it, pointing to his trust issues that makes him perceive everything as an interrogation, but they aren’t here right now. Plus, he knows Damian at least will be on his side. He has people in his camp.

… Though that might not be a good thing. Hm, should he talk to Damian about it?

“It seems familiar somehow,” Oliver comments and Bruce hopes Amir moves soon. The last thing he wants is for Ollie to figure out who is under the cowl, the man is insufferable enough as it is.

“Batman?” Clark prompts, apparently he’s been quiet for long enough.

Falling back on one of his contingencies, he says: “Everyone should have skills in the acting and grifting department. Contact is sometimes unavoidable. I study people and I plan ahead. This is planning ahead.”

Right at that moment, Amir finally moves. Bruce feels a little bad about standing him up, but is glad to grapple away from the rest of the League. He hopes there will be a fight soon, because that way no one can ask him more questions.

#rr writing #batman #bruce wayne #brucie wayne #clark kent #superman #hal jordan #green latern #green arrow #oliver queen #flash #barry allen #justice league #jl #jla #dc #dc comics

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lazycats-stuff · 8 months

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Hey, I was wondering if you could do the Batfam with a Teen Former black Widow ( sorry English isn't my first language)

Sure can do! Such a cool idea.

Summary: (Y/N) is a former Black Widow.

Warnings: mentions of the training, killings, is this a character study?,

(Y/N) woke up with a gasp. Another nightmare. Another night of remembering people he has killed. And another night of listening to Dreykov and Madame B.

Another night of near breakage. (Y/N) sighed, removing the covers. He sat up and went to his cupboard to retrieve the cigarettes he stashed. Alfred and some other members were against him smoking, but he wasn't even chain smoker.

He only smoked when he was really stressed out. Or when he couldn't really sleep and was plagued with nightmares. It was still weird for (Y/N) to have a supposed normal life.

More so, with Batman and the Robins.

He took the pack and the lighter next to it and opened the window. He climbed out and sat down on the roof. It was a chilly autumn night and the chill of the air felt great against (Y/N)'s overheated skin.

He took a cigarette, putting it between his lips and lighting it. He used his left hand to guard the flame. Taking a drag, his eyes wondered over the darkness. He squinted at the dark, exhaling the smoke out.

He has killed Dreykov and he destroyed the Red Room. He got rid of the person who nearly broke him. He got rid of the symbol that he carried.

But it is still something that is heavy on him. The Black Widow symbol and the Black Widow moniker is something that he will carry to his grave.

He took a long drag, closing his eyes. (Y/N) still remembers the training. Ballet, acrobatics... Weapons and martial arts... (Y/N) exhaled, opening his eyes.

He was thankful that he killed Dreykov. He couldn't lie and he had to honest. It was... A bittersweet moment. He got his revenge, he got the revenge for the regiment and training he went through... But Dreykov never faced justice for what he did to all of them. And by justice, he meant going in front of a judge, jury and the executioner.

He always like the sound of it. Judge, jury and the executioner. That's what he turned into when he killed Dreykov. He judged him, he gave him the decision and he executed him.

Well that is irony.

(Y/N) chuckled quietly, letting the smoke out. It was fitting.

Dreykov's best soldier, one of the most feared assassins in Russia, the weapon that both Madam B and Dreykov had created. Although nearly broken, he persevered.

He survived.

Only 1 in 20 children survive the brutal regiment and (Y/N) rose out of those other 19 children.

He closed his eyes once more. He recently got into ballet. Ballet is something that was ingrained into him, something that is, well, was used to make them unbreakable. Repat, repeat and repeat.

But despite it all, his passion returned. Bruce was supportive of it and said that if it makes him feel better, he should go for it.

(Y/N) finished up the cigarette and climbed back into his room. He didn't expect to find Bruce, sitting on his bed.

" Hi. " (Y/N) said, making Bruce chuckle.

" I'm not going to say anything about your smoking. " Bruce said, making (Y/N) nod.

" I'm here to talk to you about... Well, I'm going to be blunt. I think you need to go to therapy. Before you say anything, " Bruce said, raising his hand, " I know. But she is loyal and she will take your conversations to the grave. " Bruce said.

" I know. But the Black Widow part of me died when you freed me from the brainwashing. Sure, I will carry the name and the symbol to the grave, but that part of me died. I burnt that part of me. " (Y/N) said, looking at Bruce before looking away.

" I appreciate the thought, but I burnt it. When I destroyed the Red Room I burnt the Black Widow part. " (Y/N) said more securely, looking Bruce directly in the eyes.

" Alright. If you ever change your mind, just let me know. " Bruce said.

(Y/N) nodded, but he knew he didn't need it. He had his family. Jason, Dick, Tim and Damian.

His brothers.

Even Alfred was there.

He knew that with their help, he will heal.

#dc x male reader #dc comics #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #batman x male reader

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a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all · 7 months

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That's What Family is For (Part 2)

Fandom: DC, Batman, Batfam, Damian Wayne, Batsis!reader, f!reader Summary: After being kidnapped and offering to take Damian's place to be tortured, you miraculously find yourself waking up back home. Damian has a new outlook on your relationship, but will a secret from your past ruin everything? Word Count: 5231 TW: Hospital, Aftermath of Torture, Mentions of Past Torture, Mentions of Death, Forced to Watch, Crying, Coma, Past Trauma Note: Today is the 2 year anniversary of posting Part 1 of this fic. Thank you so incredibly much for your patience and support as I worked on this and I hope it lives up to Part 1 💖 Part of @ailesswhumptober

Part 1

You have no idea how long you were asleep for, but when you finally managed to drag yourself into consciousness, you couldn’t remember why every inch of your body was in a strange state of concurrent numbness and agony, or why you couldn’t seem to see out of your left eye. It was only when you caught sight of the two casts stretching from the soles of your feet up to the top of your thighs that it all came flooding back to you.

You and Damian had been kidnapped in an attempt to get a ransom from Bruce. To prove they meant business, the kidnappers were going to torture Damian but you had offered to take his place. What happened next was just a blur of blood and pain: The glint of a large knife. The blunt impact of a bat. But mercifully, you couldn’t remember much else. Just that it had been bad. Really bad.

You tried to take a mental inventory of what hurt and what sort of injuries you had sustained, but there was too much damage. All the individual pain bled into each other until it just felt like one massive wound. Every breath you took made your chest, ribs, and throat ache, your head was pounding, and you couldn’t move either leg or your left arm. All you could manage was a slight turn of your head as you looked towards the door but even that small motion sent new waves of pain through you, causing a low moan to slip from your lips.

Almost instantly, Jason came rushing into the room, panic etched onto his face. Yet the second he saw you looking at him, his face split into a massive grin. The kind you couldn’t remember seeing on him since he returned from the dead. And despite everything, that sight warmed your heart.

Licking your cracked lips, you tried to speak but nothing happened. Swallowing a few times, you finally managed a barely audible, “Hey, Jaybird.”

The words sounded funny, thick and slightly lispy but Jay’s smile only widened. He hurried to your bedside and dropped into the chair that had been left there. “Damn, sis. You look terrible.”

You knew he was trying to keep the mood light, but you could hear the tears hiding just behind his words. Giving your best attempt at a smile, you croaked, “Even like this, I bet I still look better than you.”

“Yeah, probably,” he chuckled. “That voice though…. They said it would probably be hard to speak for a few days because of the tube and–” He cut himself off, but you knew what he was going to say. Because all your screams of pain had damaged it.

Swallowing again, you tried to make your voice sound as normal as possible. “Yeah, well, you better be careful. You keep smoking all those cigarettes, this is what you’ll sound like in a few years.”

“Even now you gotta hassle me about those?”

“If you would just quit, I wouldn’t have to get on you about the–”

Your words were cut off as your body fell prey to a fit of coughing. It tore at your throat like daggers and your chest felt like it was shattering into pieces. It only lasted for a few seconds but when it passed, you were left panting and moaning in pain.

When you finally managed to pull yourself together once more and looked back at Jason, his smile had completely vanished, replaced with a thin-lipped grimace. His eyes drifted over your broken body before returning to your face. “So… Honestly. How do you feel?”

“How do you think?” you wheezed. “Like someone ran over me with.. with a… wit– oh forget it. I’m in too much pain to think of something clever. I feel shitty.”

“What hurts?”

“The easier question is ‘what doesn’t hurt?’. And why can’t I open my left eye?”

“Alfred taped it closed for now. It looked pretty messed up.”

You nod slightly. “Permanent?”

“Not sure,” he muttered, staring down at the floor. “They had to wait until you woke up to fully assess the damage.”

You nodded again, the dread growing in the pit of your stomach. But you have to know the answer to your next question, no matter how terrifying the answer might be. In a small voice, you ask, “How bad overall?”

Jason hesitated. “Maybe you should wait for Bruce or Alfred to–”

“How bad, Jay?”

Still avoiding your eye, he shifted in his chair before answering. “Bad. The worst of the damage is on your left side. Your arm was dislocated, your cheekbone was destroyed, you’re missing several teeth, and your eye is… well, I already mentioned that. Also, most of your ribs were pretty much shattered and the ones that weren’t are cracked. The pieces punctured your lungs in multiple places. Your legs…The knives thankfully missed all the major arteries, but Alfred said there still might be some nerve damage.”

“Is that all?” You had meant for the question to be sarcastic, but the quiver in your voice made it sound more like a desperate plea.

Jason took a long, deep breath. “It also took eight surgeries, four blood transfusions, and three resuscitations to get you stable.”

“Yeah, that feels about right.” You clenched your jaw tightly as you struggled to hold back your tears, but that just sent a fresh jolt of pain through your mouth. Using your tongue, you gently prod the three new gaps where teeth used to be. No wonder your words sounded funny.

In a soft whisper, you asked, “I’m done, aren’t I? There’s no coming back from this, not really. Even if I can get back to a halfway normal state, I’m never going to be able to put the costume back on. No going on patrol, no more protecting the city, no more being a hero.”

A small sob bubbled in your throat. When Bruce had taken you in all those years ago, you were a mess. Every night, you woke up screaming from nightmares—memories—of watching your parents tortured to death in front of you while you were helpless to do anything. You had felt so powerless. But then Bruce told you about his secret life. That he was the man in the mask who had rescued you from that horrible place. And he taught you how to be strong, how to be for others what he had been for you. He had given your life a purpose but now….it had been taken from you just like your parents had been.

As the tears began to slip down your face, Jason carefully took your hand, rubbing the back with his thumb as he leaned in to stare you directly in your good eye. “Hey, don’t think that way. Bruce was able to come back from a broken back, I came back from the dead, and you… you can come back from this. It’s not gonna be easy and it’ll take a lot of hard work, but if anyone can do it, you can.”

The tears began to flow faster as you finally let the sob you had been holding back free. Squeezing Jason’s hand as tightly as you were able, you cried, “Thank you, Jay. Thank you for everything. I can’t even imagine making it through what comes next without my brothers by my side.”

Jason snatched his hand back from your grasp and pushed back in his chair, his expression growing dark as he spat, “Don’t. Don’t thank me. While you were sacrificing everything for Damian, while you were lying there dying, I was here. Too weak to help you when you needed me most.”

“Jay–”

“I wanted to be there, I did, I just…” His sharp tone crumbled into a near sob as he buried his face in his hands. “I was fine until he picked up the bat. Then it all came rushing back. All I could see was the Joker standing over me with that crowbar and…and I….” His hands muffled his cries, but you could still see the way his shoulders shook as he sobbed.

You had forgotten that they had sent a live feed of your torture to all of Wayne Industries which was probably how Bruce had located you and Damian. Jason never talked about what had happened to him all those years ago in that warehouse, but you had been waiting in the Batcave when Bruce had brought Jason’s body home. You still remembered the bruises and blunt force trauma that couldn’t have been made from the explosion. And you also recalled how the sight of your brother’s broken form sent you into a hysterical fit, not only over the loss of the boy you loved like family but also because it brought back all of the scars from your parents’ deaths. You had felt incredibly guilty later once Bruce and Alfred calmed you down that you had made Jason’s death all about you and your past traumas. But Bruce reminded you that your pain and grief was valid, whenever it hit you, and despite the circumstances, you needed to take care of yourself first or you weren’t going to be able to help anyone else.

Just like Jason needed to take care of whatever horrors he had relived before coming to help you.

It took a lot of determination and concentration, but you slowly moved your hand towards Jason. Luckily, he was sitting on your right side since that was the only arm you could move at the moment, but it still took an achingly long time to close the short distance between you.

As you lay your hand on his shoulder, his head jerked up. When he saw what you had done, his eyes—the blue magnified by the tears about to fall—grew wide. Smiling, you brushed your fingertips lightly across his cheek and said, “Jay, I understand why you didn’t come. There was nothing you could have done and you needed a chance to deal with your own pain. And I’m sorry that I was the reason you had to relive that experience.”

Jason shook his head furiously and clutched at your hand. “No! This was not your fault! All you did was protect Damian. The only person to blame is that psychopath Moore.” His face darkened. “Bruce better be glad they threw that son of a bitch in Blackgate because if he had gotten away, nothing and no one would have stopped me from hunting him down and putting a bullet between his eyes.”

“See? You are such a loving, protective brother who would do anything for me.” His expression softened slightly. “Besides, you even just admitted. Moore is the only one to blame here. Not me, and not you. So, please, don’t beat yourself up over this. I’m still here and I need you now more than ever.” You squeezed his hand as tightly as you were able and after a moment, he returned both the squeeze and the smile. You nodded softly then changed the subject. “How is Damian handling all of this?”

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” Jason nodded towards the other side of the room.

It took you a moment and quite a bit of pain to turn your head enough so your right eye could see where he was gesturing, but when you managed it, your smile grew wider.

Curled into a tight ball, Damian was fast asleep on the couch on the far side of the room. He looked so small and it reminded you that despite his upbringing, he was still just a kid, which made you feel better about your condition. If one of you had to be lying in this bed, you would have offered yourself up every time.

Jason chuckled softly to himself as he saw your face. “He’s barely left the room since they brought the two of you home. Bruce tried getting him to go back to school the last two days, but he flat-out refused. Said he wasn’t going anywhere until you woke up.”

“Really? That doesn’t sound like Damian.”

“Well, I think his actual words were ‘Tt. Father, I cannot be bothered with those trivial lessons while my sister’s fate is still uncertain. I am needed here. Yes, I have a geography test next week, but I have traveled to more countries than my so-called teacher could even possibly name. This is more important.’”

Despite the mocking—though fairly accurate—impression Jason had made, your eyes welled up with tears once more. Damian had called you ‘sister’. It was the first time you could ever remember him doing so. No. That wasn’t true. He had said it when Bruce and Dick had shown up to save them. In fact, the echoing word was the last thing you remembered before the world had gone dark.

Swallowing hard to clear your throat, you asked, “Um, do you think…Would he be upset if I asked you to wake him up?”

“Yo! Demon Spawn! Wake up!” Before you could stop him, Jason hurled a pillow across the room so it slammed into Damian’s sleeping form.

The kid instantly leaped to his feet in a crouched position, ready to take on any and all attackers. But he straightened up when he saw Jason’s smug grin and your weak smile staring back at him instead. Rushing to your side, he said, “Sister! You are awake!”

You tilted your head slightly to look at him better. “So are you. Sorry for the rude wake-up. That was all Jay.”

“Hey!” Jason huffed indignantly. “You asked me to wake him up and I did! You just never said how.”

Damian glared at him out of the corner of his eyes. “Yes, Todd has been exceedingly insufferable this last week while you have been injured—”

“W-week? I’ve been out of it for a week?” You felt your blood run cold. You knew things were bad, but for some reason the thought of you laying in this bed unconscious for the past 7 days made your condition seem so much worse.

Jason and Damian exchanged a worried look. Then Jason cleared his throat and said, “Yeah…. It's been eight days since you and Damian were kidnapped. They had to keep you in a medically induced coma for the first five days while they operated. Then when they brought you out, they had to dope you up with so many pain meds that you were out of it even when you were awake. They tried to lower your dose but they had to up them again when they removed the breathing tube and you wouldn’t stop moaning…So, yeah. It’s been a week.”

You let your head fall back against the pillow as tears began to sting your eyes. Obviously, it would have taken you time to recover from that level of injury, but a week? No, actually, eight days. And that was just the start of your recovery. The amount of time, therapy, and hard work it would take you just to be able to stand again, let alone walk or fight, was dizzying to think about. Despite the fact Jason had reassured you differently, you didn’t see how you weren’t done after this. How were you supposed to bounce back?

As the tears finally became too much and began slipping down your face, you whispered, “You all should have just let me go.”

“No!” The ferocity in Damian’s voice startled you and you looked over to see his small hands curled into tight fists as his face bore a determined scowl that could rival Bruce’s. “No. You do not get to give up. Not now. Not now that the worst of it is behind you. You never once gave up while we were captured. Despite everything that sadistic fiend did to you, you fought to protect me. We would not have been in that situation if it was not for me and I will repay my debt to you by remaining by your side to ensure you get through this.”

You stared at Damian for a long time, a mix of pride, adoration, and guilt stirring in your chest. Seeing how he wanted to stand by you and help you through what came next meant the world to you. The Damian who climbed into your car eight days ago wouldn’t have done so. However, you couldn’t let him make such a vow without knowing all the facts.

Shifting your eye to look at Jason, you muttered, “Can you give us a minute alone?”

He hesitated, his eyes flickering back and forth between you and his younger brother, but finally, he nodded. “Yeah, sure. I’ll go let everyone else know you’re not only awake but coherent this time. They’ll want to see you.”

“Thanks, Jay. I’ll have Damian let you know when we’re done.”

He nodded, shot Damian one last look, and left the room.

Now that you were alone, you carefully motioned for Damian to take the chair Jason had been sitting in earlier and he silently did as you wished…for once. He looked so small compared to the memory of Jason’s hulking form sitting there just moments before and tears once more stung your eyes as it hit you all over again how young he was to have experienced what the two of you just went through. You hadn’t planned on having this conversation until you were a little better, but he deserved to know the truth and not continue blaming himself for what happened.

Taking a deep breath, you said, “It’s not your fault, Dami. He was never after you. You were only there because of me.”

“Tt,” Damian scoffed, folding his arms across his chest. “You have no proof of that. As you said in that warehouse, I am Father’s blood heir. If anyone was the target, it would have been me.”

You shook your head. “It was my car, Damian. The car I insisted you get in even though you didn’t want to. If I would’ve just let you walk home like you wanted–”

“They could have been monitoring me and adjusted their plans when I joined you in your vehicle. You still cannot be confident–”

“I know Moore.”

Damian blinked in surprise. “Yo–you what?”

You nodded sadly. “I know him. I didn’t realize it at first because it was so long ago and I’ve tried so hard to forget that day, but it was him. After I had passed out from Moore’s torture, they unhooked me from the chains and just let me drop to the floor. The pain of the landing woke me up for just a minute and I tried to beg them to put me back up because I knew otherwise they’d be coming for you, but I was in so much pain I could barely form a sentence. Moore saw I was awake and came to stand over me with that nauseatingly cocky look on his face.”

You shuttered at the memory of it and knew it was an image that would haunt your nightmares for years to come. But you pressed on. “Then he said, ‘For what it’s worth, you should be proud. You died a lot more honorably than your parents did.’ And that’s when I remembered.”

Tears slipped from your eyes as you allowed all the walls and safeguards you had built up over the years to finally come down and you recalled the night your life changed forever. “It’s been so long and he was just a kid, no older than Tim. But then again, I was even younger.” Taking a deep breath, you looked up at Damian. “How much do you know about my life before Bruce took me in?”

Damian shrugged one shoulder. “Just what I said in the car. Your parents were tortured to death by a gang who left you tied up with their bodies until the police found you. Then when he heard what happened and that you had no one left, Father took you in.”

You nodded and wiped a tear from your eye. “My parents owned a little shop near Crime Alley at the time. It was a hole-in-the-wall thrift store that barely made enough to put food on the table but my parents loved that place. It was their pride and joy so when the local gang came by to demand protection money, they refused. They didn’t want their place associated with gangsters. Which of course the gang didn’t like. We lived in a small apartment above it and one night, the gang broke in while we were sleeping. I was only six at the time and I didn’t understand what was happening. I just knew some bad people dragged us out of bed and into the basement where they tied us all up to chairs. I was sitting between my parents as they begged and pleaded for our lives, but even then I still didn’t understand. Not until one of the men pulled out a knife.”

A humorless chuckle fell softly from your lips. “I guess in hindsight, I should have remembered Moore sooner. The way he tortured and hurt me was very similar to what the gang did to my parents. Just small cuts that got deeper and deeper. Small weapons that got more and more damaging until….”

A small hiccupy sob slipped from your lips as everything came flooding back to you. Your father screaming in pain as the gang broke bone after bone and cut off his fingers one by one. Your mother hysterically sobbing as she begged them to let you all go. The way those pleas eventually shifted to just begging them to let you go. And then the eerie silence that fell across the room after your mother had taken her last breath.

Damian took your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “It is alright, sister. You do not have to continue.”

You shot him an appreciative smile but shook your head. “No. It’s okay.” Taking several deep breaths to compose yourself, you continued. “There was one gang member who stayed huddled in the corner, refusing to watch as the rest of the gang had their fun.”

“Moore.”

You nodded. “I didn’t know it at the time, but yeah. He had started by anxiously pacing around at the back of the room but once things turned really violent….he couldn’t take it. He tried to run back upstairs but the gang forced him to stay and watch. Said he needed to learn how things were done. And after the other day, I’d say he learned his lesson pretty well.”

“And you are certain it was him?”

“Absolutely. I stared at him through most of it, partly because I couldn’t stand to watch what they were doing to my parents, but also partly because I could tell he was just as horrified as I was and yet he did nothing to stop it. I wanted to scream at him to help us, to do something, but I also was too afraid to speak up. And when they were done and the gang members left, he was the last one out of the room. He looked at me as if he wanted to apologize or set me free or…I don’t know. But instead, he just turned and ran up the stairs. The next time I saw him was when he walked into that room we were both chained up in.” You scoffed as you felt a lump growing in your throat. “I guess we picked up right where we left off, huh?”

The physical damage that had been done to you was hard enough to bear, but now realizing the connection your tormentor had to your past made you want to vomit. Moore may not have laid a finger on you back then, but he had been there to witness the worst day of your life. His friends had been the ones who did the same thing to your parents—only your parents hadn’t been lucky enough to survive. You wondered how long Moore had been planning this, how long he had wanted to finish the job that had been started all those years ago. Perhaps it was some sort of decades-long revenge plot since your parents’ deaths had eventually led to the arrest of most of the other gang members and the collapse of his gang. Or it was possible he just wanted to blackmail Bruce as he said and he thought using you to do it was just a bonus. Jason said Moore had been taken to Blackgate so once you were better, you could go try to get some answers. But at the moment, you weren’t sure if you even wanted them.

You had been so deep in thought that you only just realized that Damian had been silently staring down at your interlocked hands for the past few minutes. His expression was nigh-on unreadable and you were once again reminded of Bruce. Given enough time, support, and guidance, you could see him growing into a man worthy to carry on his father’s legacy. You just hoped he would want you to be around to see it.

You wouldn’t blame Damian if his attitude towards you reverted back to how it was before all of this happened. After all, he was put through hell because of you. He had warmed up to you solely because you had offered yourself up to be tortured instead of him—yet he never should have been there in the first place. Maybe this would actually make your relationship worse. Maybe Damian would cut you off completely. Maybe—

“Sister, I cannot imagine how hard this realization must have been for you and I…I am sorry.”

His voice cut through your internal spiraling and you blinked in surprise. “Wh-what?” With all the scenarios you had swirling around in your head, hearing Damian apologize had never even crossed your mind. “But Dami you’re not…mad?”

Now it was his turn to look surprised. “Why would I be mad?”

“I’m the reason you were there. I thought once you knew the whole story and realized that, you would hate me for getting you dragged into everything. Or at least–” you dropped your gaze down to the bed “–at least I thought you’d go back to not really liking me.”

“Oh…” The small boy shifted in his chair. “I can understand why you may have come to that conclusion but knowing your history with Moore does not change how I feel about what you did for me. You saved me long before you remembered who he was or your connection to him. And even that still does not prove you were the one he was after, not me. I am the youngest and, as such, am perceived to be the most vulnerable and incapable of protecting myself—Tt, though in reality, it is Drake who fits that description.”

You smiled as you shook your head. Tim would disagree with that statement, but Damian’s point was still valid. To those who did not know of his past upbringing or training, it would be easy to dismiss him as a young, spoiled, entitled brat who never had to lift a finger his entire life. But they couldn’t be farther from the truth. Despite being a kid, Damian had already experienced more than 90% of people would in their lifetime. Hell, when he was the same age you were when you watched your parents die, he had already been training for years with the League of Assassins. Moore had just gotten lucky when he grabbed the two of you: if Damian hadn’t woken up hurt and already chained up, he probably could have incapacitated every one of your kidnappers.

Damian continued. “Regardless of who the target was, it does not change the fact you volunteered yourself in my place when they wanted to take me. And despite the pain you were in, you tried to hold on as long as possible so I would not be forced to take your place. How could any other detail matter except my sister loves me enough to die for me?”

The lump in your throat got bigger until you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You managed to nod your head quickly and repeatedly as you choked out, “I would. Because I do. I do love you, Damian.” He stared down at the floor, shifting once more in his chair as his fist tightened around yours. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. You knew how hard it was for him but you could see he wanted to say it and that was enough. So, squeezing his hand back, you whispered, “It’s okay. You don’t have to say it back.”

His shoulders dropped with visible relief and he gave you a small, grateful smile. Then, in a tiny voice, he muttered, “But I do though.”

It was the final straw. Tears began flowing down your cheeks as a small cry burst from behind your lips. There was a sharp pain in your chest as you disturbed your injuries, but it seemed unimportant at the moment. You tried to control yourself as much as possible, knowing emotions and displays of affection bothered Damian, but it was all too overwhelming. For so long you had tried to get him to at least tolerate you, but this? This was more than you ever dared to hope for.

Damian sat quietly as you took a moment to compose yourself. Despite the added pain you incurred from your crying, you couldn’t remember feeling this happy in a while…..or this worn out. Now that you had cleared the air with Damian and everything was better than expected, you realized how much you had been struggling to stay awake.

Another wave of exhaustion hit you and it took almost everything you had to murmur, “I know Jay said everyone was waiting to see me but I think….I think I need to rest for a bit. Could you ask them to wait until I take a small nap?”

He nodded. “Of course, sister. Whatever you need.”

“Thanks, Dami.”

You expected him to leave but instead, he squeezed your hand hard and looked you dead in the eye. “I mean it. Whatever you need. You will heal and things will return to normal. And I will be by your side for all of it.”

You smiled up at him, fighting to keep your eyes open. “Thank you, Dami.”

He laid your hand gently back on the bed before standing from his chair and walking to the door. He glanced over his shoulder at you one last time, nodded, and then disappeared.

With no reason left to hold on, you let yourself collapse back into the bed as you gave into the darkness that was dancing on the edge of your vision.

And as you felt yourself being pulled under to unconsciousness once more, you couldn’t help but smile. Despite everything that had happened and the long road to recovery that lay before you, you had a father and four brothers who loved you and would be by your side through all of it. Because at the end of the day, that’s what family is for. And you were so thankful to have found this family.

Taglist: @zebralover, @itzagothamcitysiren, @roses-and-ricex, @blackpearl2324, @po55um, @missborntodiex, @hypnobanditprofessorhorse-blog, @an-ever-angry-bi, @rukia-uchiha-98, @shipsforlif3, @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @hyding-out-here, @555hikaii, @nik2blog, @thefictionalcharacterssimp, @venomsvl, @sugarysweetsandpainfulteeth, @your-friendly-neighborhood-al, @hellfire-fan-club

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emeraldsandamethyst · 8 months

Text

Inspired by this post by @nerdpoe thank you

AN: a whole new au. Danny is not the ghost king. He is running errands for the ancients. He is unaware but he's a baby ancient himself. The new ancient of space. Though he's not there yet.

Tim is going by Cardinal in this. Jason is still Red Hood, and also the prince that Danny is talking about. Jason and the bats have no idea he's a prince or what it means. I had originally planned on making this dead on main but now it might be dead tired. Unsure. If it is Tim is polyam and already dating Bernard for sure and maybe Kon too idk.

***

Tim, as Cardinal, landed on the rooftop across from the unknown potential rogue. They were glowing weakly and floating just off the gravel on the roof. Their hair was white and mid length. It moved more like smoke than hair. They were wearing a simple black suit with white gloves, boots and belt. They had no face covering.

"Oh, you're here! Awesome! You ready?" They asked cheerfully. He'd been expected. Or if not Cardinal then at least someone from The Colony.

Tim hummed noncommittally. The guy looked confused then disappointed.

"You don't know why you're here, do you?" The guy said, both his shoulders and floating hair drooping in disappointment. Curious.

"Why don't you tell me what you think I'm here for and we can compare notes." Tim said with bland politeness. He didn't do anything so stupid as relax, but he wasn't in the mood to fight. So de-escalate it was. Hopefully the unknown would agree.

"Right. Okay. At least you're definitely her knight so you're the right guy." He said, apparently to himself, then he straightened his posture and pulled out a scroll from somewhere, making it look like it came from his suit. "Ahem ahem." He actually said instead of clearing his throat. He began to read. "It has come to the attention of the Council of Ancients that one of our peoples is claiming their haunt in the Living world under false pretenses and with malicious intent beyond reasonable expectations of the Dead.

"Recognizing the great disruption that the Living would experience at Our collective presence We, the Council of Ancients, send in our stead a champion, known to the living as Danny Phantom, to enforce Our decree.

"It has been reported by the Dead victims that the Living have been unable to otherwise mitigate or contain or banish this criminal from their world. The wrongs done are so numerous and so horrific and the Victims so plentiful that We, The Council of Ancients, condemn this man, known to the Living as 'The Joker', to eternal imprisonment. This judgment is to be enforced forthwith. Once apprehend and safely contained We, The Council of Ancients, shall provide a means by which the Living can file their own grievances against The Joker to seek redress.

"Danny Phantom-" Danny stopped reciting and looked over at Cardinal with a disgruntled expression, "that's me. I'm Danny Phantom, I have to read it exactly." Then he went back to reading the document. "Danny Phantom is hereby charged to speak with the Ghost whose haunt has been so grossly violated and follow their demands that do not conflict with Realm law."

Danny waited, holding the scroll open for a few more moments before he offered it, rolled back up, to Tim.

"And that's why I'm here with you, by the way, Lady Gotham told me her knights and Prince would help me and you're her knight, so, yeah! That's why I'm here! Got my warrant and everything Mister Birdman, Sir!"

"... It's Cardinal, actually." Tim said. He took the glowing paper with some concern and opened it himself. The words were not in English or any other language Tim knew. Except as he looked the document translated itself into English.

This was, indeed, a very strange but official seeming document that could be called a warrant. Calling for the detainment of The Joker. In another dimension.

An excuse to get The Joker gone forever? Tim wanted to accept this right now, immediately. But Bruce would need more than a scroll from an unknown government and the words of their supposed representative as proof.

Tim breathed in for four, held it then exhaled for six. "How exactly am I to determine this is a legitimate warrant from a legitimate governing body with actual jurisdiction in Gotham, New Jersey, The United States of America, North America, Earth, third planet in the Sol system, the Milky Way and not some wackos with big ideas and more power than sense."

"But, it is legit?" Danny Phantom looked confused, as if the concept of this situation being faked had never even occurred to him. Tim stared at him. Phantom stared back.

"Sure, okay, you're telling me it is. But how do I make sure you're actually who you say you are. Anyone can put on a costume and claim whatever they want. Doesn't make it true." Tim said with patience he didn't feel.

"Huh. Uh, I guess?" Phantom said, somehow looking even more confused now. "Um, usually your patron would be here to introduce us, well she is here but she's not able to be seen by the Living. Not even her knights. She's supposed to be able to show herself to you guys but can't because this The Joker guy is messing with her. Taking her power and junk.

"What?" Phantom's eyes lost focus, like he was communicating telepathically. Since it was a total non sequitur Tim figured it likely was telepathy, or something like it.

Tim waited, mentally rifling through his memories to find ways to vet this guy that would satisfy Bruce. Because honestly? Tim was tempted to just let him go and watch what happened.

"Oh! Well, why isn't your prince here, Lady? That should make everything easy— wait, seriously? Of course not, that would be easy. How can they even function? Ugh."

"Excuse me? Who exactly is this prince that I'm supposedly following the orders of?" Tim interjected. He didn't need this unknown likely meta going off on irrelevant tangents. Definitely not now.

"It's- ugh. I'm not allowed to say anything? He's a dude that… you know." Danny flinched and hissed. He glared at nothing, sulking.

"Uh-huh." Tim said. "The prince of Gotham is 'a dude' that 'I know' right. Sure. I know Brucie Wayne is the media's prince of Gotham but he's not actually an actual prince. That's just hyperbole. We don't actually have royalty here."

"I'm from Ohio! Of course I know that's not your Lady's real prince!" Danny scoffed and looked offended.

"Condolences on being Ohian."

"Oh come on! You're from New Jersey!"

"Your point?" Tim asked.

"Look. Just. I am trying to do my job and help you and your patron and your people." Danny snapped.

"And what do you need from me, exactly? You never actually explained. You just read me your warrant." Tim pointed out.

"Oh. Uh. Sorry Cardinal." Danny said, embarrassed. "I just need your okay for me to get him or for you to come with."

Tim hummed and thought. That was it? Tim technically didn't even need to go with him? Tim was, of course. He was much too untrusting to just let this stranger run off in Gotham unsupervised.

"Yeah alright. I'll escort you, don't run off."

"Aw yeah!" Phantom said, immediately flying off. He did at least come back and look embarrassed, staying close to Tim. "Um, sorry. Got excited. Lead the way Sir Cardinal!"

***

That's all I've got so far. Just kinda wrote this to get back into writing. No idea if I'm gonna continue it.

Thank you.

#my writing #emeraldsandamethyst #dc tim drake #dp danny fenton #dpxdc #tim drake is cardinal #warrant officer danny fenton #the joker is a ghost in this au #ghost justice au

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thesuperiorrobin · 2 years

Text

Damian Wayne, the blood son of playboy billionaire Bruce way. Damian Wayne doesn’t live up to the playboy title like his father back in the day

After the fourth bullet there’s a cut

-Damian, for the first few months, denies that he likes you in the first place. It takes him a while to own up to his feeling for you. Seeing as he was taught to push his own feeling asides and to never show them because it’s a sign of weaknesses.

-but eventually he surpass that mindset, and just let his feelings all out. With the help of his best friend, Jon Kent, of course. Wouldn’t admit it but he would rather die then tell any of his family members about you or his feelings. (Well not dead. He just isn’t really ready to tell them yet 💀)

-when you two start dating, he will keep you a secret. He will keep you away from his family. Not because he’s a possessive type or anything he’s just embarrassed. And he knows for a fact this his family will take you away from him. So he just wants you all to himself for a little bit until he actually has to introduce you to them.

-since he’s keeping you a secret for a while that means no public dates. Because the paparazzi and the media are quick. Heck the minute you and Damian are out in public holding hands you won’t even get five steps in before you get a notification of the Gotham news on your phone with a picture of you and Damian. The paparazzi is scary.

-and honestly you don’t mind being a secret, cause you keep Damian a secret from your parents too. I doubt they’ll be happy when they hear that their child is dating the famous billionaire playboy’s son. Parents first impressions matter too💀. And Bruce Wayne didn’t leave a good one at all.

-so your dates are in school during lunch. Where you two will sneak out of the cafeteria and sneak out of school make your way to the back where no one will bother you except for the janitors and old cafe ladies you tend to smoke their problems away. You two don’t mind and neither do they, since you are keeping it a secret about their little smoking habits since no smoking is allowed on school property. It’s only fair they do the same.

-when you eventually find out Damian Wayne is Robin. The dates change too. I mean you’ll still end up having your little lunch dates but now. You see him in the middle of the night, in his Robin uniform, and in your room. Apparently you know have a thing for guys who wear mostly leather uniforms and fight bad guy out in the night. I mean who knew.

-now you’re parents are wondering why you’re always falling face first into your morning breakfast. They threatened to take your phone away because they think that electric of yours is the main cause for it in the first place ;)

-you are the first to tell your parents about the two of you. They aren’t really happy about the whole idea of you saying a Wayne, but they can see how much you like Damian. When they meet Damian in person your mom is thrilled. And Y’know first impression count so he brought flowers for your mom. He was being shut a suck up to her the entire day. Your dad took him longer to like him, mostly because he was a Wayne.

-you dad was very happy when he was leaving tho.

-and when you do meet his family. Lets just say it’s chaotic. Damian is full on embarrassed at this family, especially Grayson. No DONT even get me started on him. The only person in the manor that he wasn’t mad/embarrassed about, was pennyworth 7-7

-but overall his family loves you. That includes his animals.

-Speaking of animals Titus and Alfred LOVE you. Damian gets jealous because his trusted pets are taking your attention away from him. You and Damian are now parents of the many animals Damian keeps in the manor. That includes the cow too.

-he absolutely will keep you a secret from the press tho. Because he knows how scandalous and horrific they can be. And he doesn’t want them to be the main cause for a future break up all because they don’t know how to mind their own business.

-Damian Wayne is a touch starved person. There I said it. Growing up the only touch he ever got was a pat on his head by his mother when he did something good when he was living with the league of assassins. Other then that that’s it. But after living with Bruce he’s gotten some hugs here and there by him and his siblings.

-he doesn’t like to ask for a hug or any form of affection, after all he is still getting used to the whole dating thing so you’ll normally have to make the first move. And Damian love loves loooves cuddling with you. He doesn’t ask for it of course but you can tell when he needs one. He either sigh very loudly to get your attention or stays quiet for the rest of the day.

-absolutely hates the fact that his brother tease him for being soft with you. It can either go with you trying to stop Damian from slicing them up or it can have you laughing while Damian pay no mind to them.

-hates it even more when you spend time his siblings and not him. Oh! You can over the manor to hang out with him? No, Grayson just asked you to come over so you two can go watch that new romance film Damian refused to watch with you. He thinks your there because you want his help? No you came to see Tim to help you with your science and math homework. Want to have a nice day together? No your hanging out with Jason and enjoying h the r he’ll out of Damian for the day. But despite the fact that you love hanging out with his sleeping at the end of the day you’ll always go back to him for cuddles.

-you were the first person to say ‘I love you’ after he had sneaked into your room late at night after a bad patrol. The villains he had to deal with got him good this time. You two had a bad argument about it and then it just slipped.

-now Bruce Wayne is juts happy his son found that makes him happy. He’s glad his son didn’t follow in his playboy title. He thanks the lord everyday🙄. He even thanks you in private for dating Damian and he’s glad your able to deal with him since he can be such a pain in the ass most of the time 💀

#damian al ghul #batfamily #batman x fem!reader #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #robin x reader #batfamily x reader #damian x reader #damian al ghul x reader #Damian scenarios

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pinsandcats · 2 months

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First Kid

I don't really like the idea of Dick never doing anything wrong in his teenage years. I think it is laughable how people don't think the original sidekicks ever really got into trouble, because all of their parents were vigilantes who were trying for to raise not only a child but a child vigilante for the first time. Half of them were orphans. When teenagers know they can get away with things they will do them, so imagine a bunch of 15 year olds with access to literally everything under the sun. I just know they were smoking pot in Wally's basement or something. And you know that one kid in every stupid highschool movie that's like my rich parents aren't home? That was Roy. Dick bought everything with his weekly allowance of $500 (Bruce: how was i supposed to know that wasn't normal). He has training from Batman and you're telling me he can't pretend to be an adult? None of their parents have any idea what their doing and this leads to unmatchable shenanigans.

#dick grayson #wally west #donna troy #roy harper #batfam #batman #robin #kid flash #speedy #wonder girl #they didnt know what they were doing #they were so lost #half of them were billionare orphans so they had no idea what a normal childhood was supposed to look like

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bruciemilf · 2 years

Note

I'd like to suggest a concept.

Angry protective Bruce as Bruce Wayne who drops Brucie in public when his family and friends are threatened. Who's ready to snarl at a jackass because one too many boundary was crossed and he's DONE.

The thing is that apparently Bruce like this is even scarier than Batman. Or well, Batman is only ever as scary as that when his protective instincts rear their head.

Social media explodes. Bruce is as doting as ever to his children and kind in general. He's just doesn't have any more fucks to give.

His kids are flabbergasted. His kids are proud. They regularly get popcorn.

Other times they get angry because many people don't like this and push back and bring up nasty things from the past. WHAT did people used to say to Bruce when he was a teenager??

Alfred's hands are shaking. He's heard some of this before. But it seems that people only get stealthier.

GODDD ITS THE WAY I HAVE THE PERFECT WHUMP PIECE FOR THIS-

Here's a brutal truth about Gotham; You can either be a broken hero, or a whole villain, but you can't be both at once. One or the other, both kneel to Gotham City in different ways.

No one from the Justice League truly understood. Not until Bruce dismisses the idea of Diana being tonight's arm candy for the rich and sleazy at Wayne Gala;

They needed to get that Kryptonite from Lex's hands, and this is the perfect trap. Bruce is the man for the job. " It's what I'm for; That's my designed purpose."

He's talking about Brucie Wayne, but Clark finds more sinister undertones beneath that. But they soon understand what that means, and it leaves them with ashes in their mouth.

They watch, helplessly, uselessly, as Lex Luthor pulls Bruce into his lap, puffing cigar smoke in his face while admiring the bat of his lashes; Bruce's beauty is a death trap. That bastard won't be thinking about the labs anytime soon.

But it's disturbing to watch.

It's disturbing and wretched, watching Bruce sit there and take it; Smiling emptily, pretending there's nothing wrong when his waist is squeezed or his character is smeared.

Clark watches with red eyes as Lex grabs Bruce's sharp jawline, moving it from side to side, as if displaying an adorable animal, " Brucie's lucky he's pretty, cause there's NOTHING upstairs" while laughing with a group of equally disgusting men.

Bruce is just rolling his eyes internally and hopes Oliver and Hal will get a kick out of this, cause it's the last time he does a mission for this; Better him than Diana.

(Oliver and Hal aren't enjoying this; far from it, actually. Ollie squeezed a champagne glass so hard shards bite into his hand and Hal has to take his ring off because he WILL blast these assholes with it on)

Carmine Falcone is the spark that lights the fire, thought.

Wrinkled, ringed fingers tipping up Bruce's jaw, " When I told Tommy he'll be a looker, he punched my goddam lights out. But I was right, wasn't I? Shame he ain't here to see it,"

Clark is reminded, then, that Tim is watching this from Bruce's lens. Maybe Dick, too. Maybe all of them do. His stomach coils at the thought,

" Maybe that boy of yours, - Tim, right? - is gonna take after you and drop the chairman act. God knows this city needs more pretty boys like you."

There's another, secret truepiece about Gotham; Bruce Wayne wears Batman. Not the other way around.

The League has the pleasure of watching Bruce slowly rise from Lex's lap, smile ice-cold and dangerous and venom painted.

They watch with paused breaths as Bruce Wayne grips Falcone's head and bangs it againts the table and backhand Lex so hard a storm of teeth fly out.

The room temperature is fire, Bruce's anger drowning them in, and there's a bit of pleasure in it. Especially when their friend simply dusts off his hand and says he's ready to go, but Clark HEARS Bruce's heart stutter and panic, " I need to see Tim, - I need... I need Tim. I need my kids."

No one holds him back; They're smarter than that.

No one harms Bruce's children; There's a tall price to pay if you do, and no one's pockets are that deep. And yes, people have lots to say about it; But he's too tired and too sick and too angry to give half a fuck.

As long as his family is okay, what's more to care about? As long as they don't go through what HE went through, what's there to dig after?

But Alfred has his own shares of horror stories about teenage Bruce and how he was treated, and he isn't shy to reveal names.

" But of course, there's nothing Superman could do about it, am I wrong, Mr. Kent?"

" Superman, no. Clark kent just might, sir."

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book-place · 1 year

Text

Possession

Warnings: demon possession, slight cursing, mentions of seizures and hallucinations, smoking, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Batfamily x batsis!reader, John Constantine x reader platonic

Request: Can I pls request another batfamily x batsis! reader? So I was thinking that maybe they see a demon is the manor but nobody believes her bc they can't see it. But one day she gets possessed in her sleep during movie night and everyone thinks she's having a seizure until she starts floating up in the air and chanting random stuff. You don't have to write this if it makes you uncomfortable. Have a good day/night♡!!

Request by: Anon

*not my gif*

Summary: Nobody believed you when you told them there was a demon, but it wasn’t exactly a good thing that you were able to prove them wrong

A/N: Wrote this quickly :)

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

Sure, they had heard stranger things- seen stranger things- than what you were claiming to them, but they were still skeptical enough to not believe you.

For the past week, you had been insisting to your father and brothers that there was a demon in the manor. How it got there, you had no idea, but you were certain that it was there.

For some reason, none of them could feel its presence the way you could, and it made you uneasy. The entire thing was beginning to get to the point where you called up John Constantine to see if he could come over in the next few days to check it out.

Your family had pretty much summed up your outburst to being overly exhausted from the lack of sleep you were getting recently, just like how Tim would have hallucinations from time to time when he was tired enough.

All of you were settled down in the built-in theater room that you had in the manor for your weekly movie nights that Dick had insisted upon having.

Having the others surrounding you, even if they were on different couches and chairs, calmed you down a bit, knowing that none of them would ever let anything happen to you, even if they didn’t believe what you said about the demon.

About halfway through the film, you began to feel your eyelids grow heavier, and for the first time in a week, you allowed the blissful darkness of sleep to sweep you up into its welcoming embrace.

Tim glanced over at the soft sound of your even breathing, eyes softening slightly at the sight of your sleeping form. He nudged Jason beside him gently, who whipped around to glare at him and opened his mouth to snap, but faltered when his brother guestered towards you.

“Hey, old man,” Jason whispered, inclining his head towards you.

Bruce tore his eyes away from the screen and softened at the sight of you, “Let her sleep,” He whispered gently, gaining Damian’s attention, “We’ll carry her to bed later.”

They all hummed in agreement, turning back to the movie and allowing themselves to get engrossed into it once more.

All of a sudden, your breathing hitched and stuttered, causing Tim to glance at you once again in curiosity, before shooting out of his seat with widened eyes of horror.

Everyone's heads snapped over to him before they all stumbled out of their seats, too.

You were laying on your back, eyelids opened but actual eyes rolled back into your head and your body shook violently.

“What the- is she having a seizure?” Jason yelled out in a frenzied panic.

“I don’t know,” Bruce mumbled, rushing over so that he was kneeling in front of you, “Dick, get me a-“

The door slammed open suddenly, and in sauntered in none other than John Constantine, “Sorry I’m a little early, Pennyworth let me in-“ He stopped short in both words and steps as he scanned the scene in front of him, “What the bloody hell-“

“She’s having a seizure!” Dick called out, terrified.

“That’s no seizure,” The man mumbled mostly to himself, striding across the room so that he was standing over you, “That’s a bloody possession!”

Everyone’s eyes widened even further, if that was possible, and their hearts dropped to their toes. You had tried to warn them about the demon, but they hadn’t listened to you.

“What can we-“ Bruce didn’t even get through his sentence.

“Back up!” John barked, taking a step back and spreading out his arms, not even looking back to see if everyone had followed his directions, “Hang in there, love.” He mumbled just as you began floating towards the ceiling slightly without your violent shaking ceasing.

With that, he began chanting under his breath as his eyes rolled to the back of his head in a similar manner to yours. His palms that were face up began to glow orange, and an inhumane screech sounded from all directions in the room. The demon.

Your father and brothers all groaned, ducking their heads and squeezing their eyes shut as their hands flew up to cover their ears.

With one final shout from Constantine, all sounds from the demon ceased and you fell back gently against the cushions of the couch, all shaking stopping and your eyes fluttering closed.

“Will she…” Dick trailed off, hesitantly eyeing your limp body.

“She’ll be fine.” The British man confirmed.

In sync, everyone relaxed with a large sigh of relief and John pulled a cigarette from his coat pocket and lit it.

“Thank you,” Bruce breathed out, looking over at the man.

“Just lucky I was here, mate,” He told him before shooting him a look, “Next time, believe the girl when she tells you there’s a bloody demon haunting your house.”

The Superior Robin ❤️- @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker @i-writes-things

#platonic #platonic imagine #x reader #teen reader #batfam x reader platonic #batsis!reader #batfamily x reader #batfamily x batsis #batfam x batsis #damain wayne x sister reader #damian wayne x reader platonic #dick grayson x reader platonic #dick grayson x sister reader #jason todd x reader platonic #jason todd x sister reader #tim drake x reader platonic #tim drake x sister reader #john constantine x reader platonic #john constantine x reader

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coupleoffanfics · 7 months

Text

Gotham Isekaied Reader

I have an idea. It's nothing new. I wrote nearly 5 pages of this idea, but I'm too scared to post it since it's filler and I even drew a cover. So I will ramble about this idea through headcanon. Some Jerome x Reader, I’m sorry. I can’t help myself. CW: One mention of suicide.

y/n wakes up to find that her life has gotten a major upgrade. Any flaws that her family has is erased. Did mom drink away stress? Now she doesn’t even touch alcohol. Dad isn’t smoking away his life. Her older brother is a law-abiding citizen who is studying to become a lawyer. Her younger brother is more positive about life and growing up in a home that they wished they had.

Not to mention that they’re rich. She no longer lives in a bad neighborhood and sleeps in a snazzy mansion.

Life is looking up until y/n turns on the TV with a news story about a man killing corrupt people with weather balloons.

She sits there thinking, ‘This was nice, but I should be getting back home.’

Maybe y/n’s close friends with Bruce beforehand. That’s when she realizes that she has to learn about the other y/n’s life. She can’t risk telling anyone about “we’re in a shitty TV show” without everyone considering throwing her into a mental institution. Tough luck because she ends up in Arkham regardless.

She writes down plotlines that she remembers. Making files on the character that she has met. Her files are hidden away in her room and aren't brought up later down the line when a certain person finds them.

How y/n ends up in Arkham is complicated. I want y/n to be completely sane through our POV, so she’s not going to be “I’m so insane and quirky”. Maybe she’s framed or killed someone in self-defense. Well, okay, I have thought out what gets her thrown into Arkham, but I don’t think anyone would find it interesting.

During her trial, the prosecutor will use her history of depression and suicide attempts to paint her as a homicidal. The whole trial is fishy, yet ends with her being locked up.

Bruce believes y/n when she says she hasn't done anything and promises to get her out of there. Legally of course.

Alfred probably tries to keep Bruce from visiting because Arkham has a reputation and doesn’t want him to be anywhere near there. The poor boy is going through too much in a short amount of time.

So Bruce will send Selina to deliver anything. Or they both run away to visit y/n. When they come back to the manor and Alfred is questioning them, they both lie by saying that they’re somewhere else.

Bruce just wants to make sure his bestie is alright. Selina is just along for the ride but might visit y/n even when she doesn’t need to.

While in Arkham y/n is vibing in her little corner when Jerome starts bugging her. Might tell him about some plotlines just to see if anyone would believe her.

Jerome just laughs it off and starts orbiting y/n because she’s interesting. She tends to ramble and mumble to herself, for some reason he finds it so cute.

“You’re kind of funny, but I wouldn’t call you a joker.” She says before thinking, ‘Because legally you aren’t him. Thanks a lot, higher-ups.’

He writes about her in his diary and uses any stickers that she gives him. ‘Yeah, she's weird. Calling people characters and saying that we aren’t real, but she’s my little weirdo. I also got another pack of Hello Kitty stickers from her.’ Then he proceeds to doodle her with crayons.

When Theo Galavan surprise adopts them, Jerome starts taking y/n’s words more seriously. Still doesn’t believe her when she says he and everyone aren’t real. Like how is that possible? He feels real, oh whatever he has no time for that.

At the manor, Bruce is freaking out and dialing Jim begging him to save his bestie from that homicidal ginner. Theo has to make it seem like y/n is a hostage since she refuses to do any killing and Jerome has scary dog privilege.

‘They aren’t real. They aren’t people.’ She’d try to tell herself, but she just can’t bring herself to try to hurt someone. y/n is one of those freaks who try to drive safely in GTA without running over anyone or anything.

She doesn’t think that her words mean anything and that everything will follow the script. Until she tells Jerome to take an extra lighter with him. She’s chilling by herself when the news shows footage of a burnt bus and the news anchor talking about the cheerleaders who lost their lives.

That’s when y/n starts thinking over everything she’s said. She debates whether or not she should tell Jerome about Theo’s betrayal.

‘The show does start declining in ratings when he’s killed off. I could be doing the writers a favor, but what about the people? No, characters. They’re just characters! They aren’t real!’

In the end, Jerome is killed off and she’s put back into Arkham. Everyone is surprised by how calm she is after Jerome’s death. Not upset or anything. Like weren’t they close? Maybe their relationship was more one-sided.

Jim will question y/n and she might let a few things slip. Most brush her words off as they believe that she has some sort of Stockholm syndrome and is angry at Theo for killing her captor.

Back at Arkham, y/n yells, “FUCK!” When seeing Hugo Strange.

When Theo is dealt with, Jim will visit her or send her a thank you card for pointing him in the right direction regarding the investigation.

I’m getting tired and I might continue writing about this.

But I was going to have y/n be free from Arkham when some evidence regarding her case comes out. y/n will be outwardly passive throughout the story.

In the end, I was going to have y/n be the one who becomes Joker. Maybe she falls into a tub of chemicals. Don’t worry darling you aren’t going to be deformed like Jeremiah at the end. You’ll look different, but still smoking hot. 😘

Anyway seeing the physical change, her dwindling hope of getting back home, and her mental state being worn out. She decides to step up and take the name of Joker.

Bruce angst all the way. Maybe angst for other characters, but I could see this tearing him apart. He’s forced to watch his closest friend be replaced by a cackling monster. To then eventually start fighting against her.

She doesn’t react to being called y/n anymore, but she’ll give Batman/Bruce a melancholy look if he calls her by that. He doesn’t call her y/n often because that wasn’t y/n. y/n l/n was dead and there was no way she was coming back.

The theory of Joker being sane will ring true to y/n. She knows this isn’t real. It’s just fiction and any good piece of fiction needs a good villain. Since she’s not making it back home, she’ll make things fun.

Or multiple endings because those are always fun.

“Jerome? Jeremiah? Never heard of them.”

#gotham x reader #gotham tv show x reader #dc x reader #jerome valeska x reader #gotham fanfiction #my idea rambling #will i ever do anything with this idea? idk tbh #i need to stop writing and some sleep

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littleredwing89 · 1 year

Text

PRINCE OF GOTHAM - PART 10

CEO!Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings – Language. Implied Smut. Some Angst. Fluff.

A/N: Hope you all enjoy the FINAL chapter! :) But don’t worry. I have two extra chapters - epilogues as such xoxo

——

Dick immediately knew something was wrong the second he stepped into the penthouse apartment. The place stank strongly of whiskey and smoke. It wasn’t often Jason invited him round for poker, just the two of them but Dick didn’t want to refuse his brother. Jason had sounded hollow over the call making him worry. Dick looked across at his brother and frowned, it was clear Jason hadn’t shaved in over a week. The dark fuzz clearly irritated him as he clawed at it during their third game.

“You know”, Dick drawled, unable to hold back any longer, “The last time I checked you weren't being investigated by the GCPD”.

“Shut up and deal”, Jason snapped, downing the last of his drink. The bags under his eyes were dark and heavy. Since the argument he hadn’t slept well. The look on your face haunting him when he told you it didn’t mean anything.

Dick sighed and slid several cards across the table, “So I noticed you didn't bring Y/N to the gala that Bruce hosted last week”.

Jason cast his eyes up quickly, squinting at Dick, “Just say what you're going to say, Grayson. Don't bother with the preamble”.

“Did Y/N finally realise she's too good for you?”.

“Not exactly”, Jason sighed, carding his fingers through his messy hair.

“Why do I feel like what your about to say next is going to be really fucking stupid?”, Dick groaned and slapped his cards face down onto the table, huffing out a puff of air irritably.

“I did the right thing”, Jason muttered, not quite believing himself. If it was the right thing, why did he feel so lousy? Why did he want to call you every minute of the day and beg for your forgiveness?

Dick rolled his eyes, “You and the rest of us have a very different view on things”.

“We ended things - ok?! - Jesus leave it alone”, Jason spat poisonously, the words replaying in his mind. The unshed tears in the corners of your eyes you wouldn’t let fall in front of him. Not wanting to give him that victory.

“Why the fuck would you do that? Seriously?”, Dick slammed his palm down on the table harder than he intended, startling Jason for a second.

Jason scoffed, “Not all of us can afford to be sentimental, Grayson”.

“No one is going to think less of you if you just admit you’re scared”, Dick looked at his brother sympathetically. Jason hadn’t always been great with his emotions, often letting them get the better of him.

“I am NOT scared!!”, Jason growled and swept everything off the table in a fit of rage, chest heavy with deep breaths.

Dick looked up at him unphased, having seen these kinds of outbursts before, “Really?”, he laughed softly and leaned down to pick up half of the shattered glass from the floor, “You know what, she is too good for you, maybe I was wrong”.

Jason felt the flare of anger explode through him, the truth scorching his insides, “Stay out of it Grayson”.

Not allowing his volatile temper to bother him, Dick shrugged, “I’m your brother Jason and I’m not going to sugar coat anything for you...the truth hurts…Alfred would tell you the same thing”.

The words stung Jason harder than Dick probably intended. Especially mentioning Alfred. God, Alfred, he’d absolutely adored you. Jason cracked and buried his face in his hands realising he missed you. He missed every little thing about you. And now, now he didn’t have you. Fuck it hurt.

“You've got more money than sense”, Dick patted Jason on the back.

“I’m not really used to this sort of thing”.

Dick had to laugh at that, “I can tell”.

Jason glared embarrassed as Dick tried to hold back the laughter, “I don’t really know what to do…I kind of, well, I fucked it all up”.

“Promise me after this you’ll stop making me the sensible one…I don’t like it, it gives Bruce ideas”, Dick sighed before throwing the broken glass into the nearby bin, “Look…just talk to her, she’s a smart woman, she’s probably hoping you’ll call her”.

“You make it sound so easy!”.

“Look, take it from someone who’s lost some really special people…talk to her, don’t waste anymore of your time, or you’ll regret everything you never said”, Dick’s own face twisted with an unspoken sadness. Jason nodded slowly and dug his hands into his trouser pockets.

Dick sighed, rolling a poker chip between his fingers, “If you leave it any longer she’ll be gone for good. She’ll either find another firm to work for or she’ll leave the city. Plenty of companies would double her wage to have her”, he glanced over at his brother and rolled his shoulders, “Hell Jason, plenty of guys would jump to date her, she’s the full package, even I’m considering asking her on a date”.

“Don’t you dare”, Jason growled before looking sullen again, “And I know…Don’t you think I already fucking know all of this? I’ve been expecting her notice every damn day…”.

He didn’t want to admit that as each day passed and he didn’t receive it, he was thankful.

“So why are you still sitting here like a moron? You know what you have to do…do it, before I go do it for you”.

——

Four weeks had passed since that morning in his apartment. Four long weeks. You’d thrown yourself into your work completely, immersing yourself with more high pressured projects. It kept your mind busy. Whenever your thoughts strayed, they would linger on him. You couldn’t keep torturing yourself by thinking about him. The pain was still raw. Making your way up the steps in your apartment complex, the wine bottles clinked against each other. You must have sounded, and looked, like an alcoholic but your favourite wine had a ‘buy one get one free offer’ and you couldn’t turn that down.

Making your way up the last flight, you pushed through your front door, dropping your bag next to it with a heavy sigh. You could finally drop the fake smile. It was just you. You kicked your heels off and padded through into the kitchen, both bottles of wine in hand. You’d just placed them onto the counter when you heard the raspy cough behind you.

You screamed, spinning round with the corkscrew in your hands. It was the only weapon you had to hand and it seemed like a damn good option against your reasonably polite house intruder who had the decency to alert you to his presence before he tried to kidnap you, or worse.

“It’s just me!”.

That voice. That fucking, deep drawl. The one you’d pictured strangling numerous times during the long tedious business meetings.

“Jason?!”.

“Hi”.

Was that all he had to say?! You fumed silently, glaring at him.

“I nearly fucking stabbed you!!”, you shouted, dropping the corkscrew onto the counter, “Are you fucking mad?!”.

He shifted uncomfortably in the kitchen doorway before leaning against it, hands burying themselves deep into the front pockets of his sweatpants. He cast his eyes down to your flooring, mumbling something to himself.

“What are you doing here?”, you rested your hand on the granite top, “Actually, more interestingly, how the hell did you get in here?”.

“I still have your spare key…and the doorman remembered me”.

You didn’t know what to say. What do you say to the man who you’d given so much of yourself to, only to have it returned in tiny fragments.

Jason pushed himself off the frame, edging towards you, “I-errr, I know I should have done this sooner”.

Scowling, you turned away from him and grabbed one of the bottles of wine, carrying it across to the cupboard above the sink.

He sighed and followed after you, your silence deafening him, “Can we at least talk Y/N? Please? I know this is a bit late”.

You grabbed an empty glass from the cupboard, “We can...I just don't think I'll like being sober while we do it”.

“What makes you think that?”.

“It’s you!”, you growled irritated, “You just show up at my apartment without a word of warning and expect a fucking welcome party! Not to mention the fact you’re trespassing! I could have you arrested!”.

You popped the cork from the bottle, throwing it into the bin violently before pouring yourself a liberal glass. After the day you’d had and now he was here, you fucking needed it.

“There's also the fact that this has been stewing for over a month Jason...Do you want me to keep going?”.

“Princess-”.

Jason rested his hand on your lower back, the heat of it made you want to sink straight into him but memories flashed from the morning of your argument. You flinched away from him, snapping angrily, “Don't princess me, asshole!”.

He sighed deeply, trying to step back towards you, “I didn’t come here to argue with you, I came to talk to you”.

“Hence why I need the alcohol”, you brushed past him again and grabbed a second glass from the cupboard, “Go on”.

You poured a second helping of wine and passed it to him, “You'll probably need this too”.

Jason took a large gulp before leaning against your kitchen side, his eyes drinking you in, “I’m not good at this kind of shit you know”.

Grabbing the second bottle of wine, you gave him a small smile, “Alcohol makes everything easier, plus, I have two bottles of this to get through”.

He scoffed, “You sound like an alcoholic”.

“One therapy problem at a time”.

The laugh that left his mouth made you chuckle too. His lips quirked. He’d missed your wit.

“I've been thinking-”.

“You and thinking…together? Wow. You must have had a lonely four weeks”.

Jason grunted, “Are you going to let me finish or keep being snarky?”.

You smiled slyly over the rim of your wine glass, “You've never complained before, but go on”.

He ignored your comment, “As I said, I've been thinking about us and-”, he shook his head slightly and took a large swig of his wine, “Fuck me”, he grunted, “I have no idea how people can talk about this stuff”.

“Over email I'm told”.

Jason grinned slightly, “Yeah, I probably should have done that”.

“I would have deleted it”, you smiled innocently, taking another large sip of your wine. You started to feel the little buzz warming your insides.

“Fair point”, he conceded before taking one of your hands in his, squeezing gently, “What I'm saying is, if you let me, I-I want to try again”.

The world stopped spinning. Your breath caught in your throat whilst you processed his words.

“In what way?”, your voice was barely above a whisper, worried this was just a dream. You’d wake up from your wine induced sleep, alone again.

Jason brought your hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it delicately, whispering back, “I mean, just me and you…together. A real team…official”.

You stared at him, a little dumbfounded. You hadn’t expected that. No matter how much you’d wanted to hear it, you didn’t imagine Jason would ever say it. Even in his own, business like fashion.

“Princess?”, his voice seemed unsure when you hadn’t said a thing.

“Sorry”, you murmured, “I just didn’t expect you to say that…”, his face twisted with panic and you squeezed his hand reassuringly, “It’s a pleasant surprise…even if you did make it sound like a business transaction”, you added teasingly with the hint of a smile. He returned it, clasping your hand.

“I need you to be patient with me”, Jason took another mouthful of the wine, “This is…it’s new territory for me Y/N, I need you to understand that”.

“How do I know you won't go back on your word?”, your eyes glossed with a vulnerability Jason had never seen before. He was used to you being so full of fire and fight. There was a sharp sensation spreading across his chest. Realisation hitting him like a gale force storm. He’d really hurt you.

“I’ve- Y/N, I’ve never felt like this about anyone else”.

You set your glass down. The shock was hard to wipe from your face. Jason had finally admitted it. He stared at you, dark eyes brimming. You reached up, your palms resting on his cheeks. The stubble was rough under your skin as your thumb stroked over his cheek.

“Jay…”.

You felt his hand slip behind your neck, closing the distance between you both to brush his lips over yours. You hummed, deepening the kiss, enjoying the way your bodies fit together as he pressed you into the kitchen counter. Your eyes fluttered shut, letting your hands wrap around the back of his neck.

He pulled back from the kiss reluctantly, dotting more kisses over your cheeks, working down to your neck, “Princess…”.

The shivers spread across your skin, the prickle of his stubble felt perfectly familiar. You purred his name, tilting your head backwards before pushing on his chest, “I'll give you a chance..one chance, but if you cut me off or try to push me away like that again, I will burn your club to the ground”.

Jason barked out a laugh, the vibration rumbling deep from his chest, “Drop me off the top of The Iceberg if it makes you happy”. He continued his kisses along your shoulder, nipping gently. Reaching the strap of your top he slipped it down slowly, stroking the skin as it was revealed to him.

“Too messy”, you breathed.

His fingers traced up the front of your blouse, unbuttoning each one agonisingly slow. On instinct you shuddered when his fingers came into contact with your skin. You sighed softly, having missed the way he touched you.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook that easily Mr Todd”.

“Oh I know I’m not”, he kissed you again, smirking subtly, “I know I have a lot of making up to do…if you’ll let me”.

——

You waved at Bernice, a bright smile on your face as you pushed open Jason’s office door. She returned the smile with her own, waving briefly before digging back into the mountain of paperwork beside her. After the first month of your weekly visits and frequent lunch dates, she no longer questioned why it was you were visiting Mr Todd so often.

Jason looked up from his computer and grinned seeing you. He leaned back in his chair, edging away from his desk slightly, “You’re a little earlier than usual. Have you come to give me a birthday treat?”.

You rolled your eyes at him, working your way around his desk before dropping into his lap slowly, “How does it feel to be another day closer to death?”. You pressed a kiss to his cheek, smirking when he huffed.

“You’re so optimistic”, he rolled his eyes sarcastically before nudging his cheek against yours, a silent gesture of intimacy, “Why don’t you try flattering me instead princess?”.

“Your ego is big enough”.

Jason turned his face and brushed his lips against the shell of your ear, “That’s not the only thing big enough”, he growled playfully before nipping earlobe.

“You are terrible”, you laughed softly but your cheeks felt hot at the thought of him. He shuffled slightly, adjusting you to sit more comfortably.

“Are you excited for your birthday dinner party tonight? Alfred’s coming too”.

“I am, thank you for arranging it”, his arms wrapped around your middle pulling you into his chest, your head resting against his shoulder.

You nestled closer, playing with his tie, “Are you looking forward to all the presents you're gonna get?”.

“Like what?”.

Your lips curved upwards innocently and you tugged the fabric gently between your fingers, “Oh you know, golf clubs, Viagra, whiskey, the works”.

Jason slipped his hands down to your thighs and stroked up your stocking clad leg, “As if I need Viagra when I’ve got you”.

You went to say something but Jason cut over you, his hands peeling away from the lace trimming on your hold ups. He pulled open the top drawer of his desk pulling out a slim black box with a crimson bow, “I have a gift for you actually”.

“A present?”, you took the box from him and frowned softly, “But it’s your birthday. I’m supposed to give you something”.

“I think you’ll like this though, open it”, Jason nudged the box in your hands and watched you intently. You noticed the corner of his eye twitching. Why was he so nervous?

“Are you sure?”.

“I’m 90% sure you’ll like it…”, he gave you a small smile trying to mask the panic building behind his eyes, “Maybe 80%…”.

A key to his apartment sat in that box. Something he’d never shared with anyone else in his life. It’d been an obvious choice for him, you barely left his home since you’d made things official. Half your stuff was littered around his place and, well, he liked it. He didn’t want it any other way.

Tugging the red ribbon, you looked into his eyes, “As long as it isn't a cheap purse, we're good”.

Jason scoffed, clearly unamused, “What have I ever bought you that’s cheap?”.

You grinned, “True…Though you tear my underwear off like it's cheap”.

He smirked cheekily before nodding back down to the box, “Just open the present princess”.

You opened the box slowly, a little unnerved with Jason’s own jittery behaviour. When you slipped the lid off, a soft gasp left your lips. There, sat neatly in black tissue paper was a key card to his apartment with your own personalised silver key-ring attached to it; the first letter of your name. Your breath hitched and you felt a burst of warmth rushing through you. It was obvious what this was. It wasn’t just a key to his home. It was an unspoken phrase.

Jason watched as you opened it, swallowing thickly at your silence, “Err, surprise?”. The worry started to curdle deep in his stomach. Maybe he’d read this all wrong. Maybe this was a step too far. The spiralling thoughts stopped when you spoke again, voice laced with joy.

“Are you certain this is what you want?”.

The question was serious but the bright smile on your face told Jason all he needed to know.

His hands stroked along your waist softly, “Of course, you practically live there anyways, you might as well have a key”.

Your fingers traced over the silver initial attached to the key card, a diamond dangled down behind it, “And whose fault is that?”.

“What can I say? I’ve got used to having you in my bed permanently…as well as waking up to you cooking for me”, he smirked, eyes sparkling with implicit love.

“Chauvinistic pig”, you laughed and jabbed his chest.

Jason swiped your hand quickly, pressing a kiss to the back of it smoothly, “Ah, ah, ah! You can’t talk to the birthday boy like that”.

You pressed your lips to his lightly, clutching the key-card tightly in your other hand. When you pulled back, you gave him a genuine smile, “Thank you”.

“Welcome home”, he murmured.

———

Standing in the en-suite bathroom, you swiped the deep rouge lipstick over your lips, puckering them to ensure even coverage. Your black dress hung loose on your frame, still waiting to be zipped at the back. Leaning forward, you eyed your make up closely, checking there weren't any smudges in sight.

Jason let his eyes rake over your body for a long second, before clearing his throat. The cough behind you made your eyes dart in the mirror, catching his gaze.

“You nearly done?”, he leisurely rested against the door frame, his tie hanging loose around his neck. You let your own gaze run over him in his dark grey suit. It did little to hide his large frame and muscles.

“Nearly, can you zip me up please?”, you shimmied your ass at him.

“Keep that up and we won’t get out the door”, he smirked, slapping your ass playfully before zipping your dress up slowly, ensuring his fingers grazed your bare skin.

You felt the dress become tight around your body and you turned around when he finished, slinking your arms around his neck, “Thanks”.

“You look beautiful”, he complimented, hands settling on your lower back, teasing the curve of your ass.

You flushed at his words. He always managed to catch you off guard. You’d been expecting something sexual, maybe a little explicit. But he swayed in with an honest compliment. Your hands found his tie and you tutted under your breath, fixing it up before tightening it.

“My mother always says loose ties signal when men are going to start misbehaving”.

“She isn’t wrong”, he chuckled huskily and let his hands travel south, groping you.

“Well there will be a bunch of other men to keep an eye on tonight, not including you”, you kissed the corner of his mouth and smiled, “I’m going to be exhausted keeping you all in check”.

Jason grinned, “When the others start loosening their ties, that's your cue to leave with the other women”.

“What if you start loosening your tie?”.

He growled quietly, gripping onto your waist, “Then it's our cue”.

You raised your eyebrow, “Our cue?”, you smirked stroking your hands over his chest, the heat pouring from him made you shiver.

He groaned under his breath, enjoying the way your hands travelled his body. He couldn’t get enough of you. The familiar coil started to tighten in his stomach.

Leaning up, you breathed quietly into his ear, purring softly, “And…What if I loosen your tie for you…Sir?”.

The sparks fired up his spine and he edged you back against the bathroom sink, lifting you up easily, “Then princess, you're just asking for it”.

Your fingers found their familiar place, wound through his dark locks sending waves of bliss through him. His kisses worked down your neck, stubble grazing over your weak spot. You tipped your head back against the mirror, whispering airily, “Jason…we’re going to be late…you know Bruce will only complain”.

“Fuck it”, he grunted, “It’s my birthday”.

——

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