#it's why alfred has to reach for his hand first

[dcxdpdabbles]

Freelance Inventor Part 2

Dedicated to @jimmysorsprinkles Thank you for enjoying my random dabbles. I saw that you wanted more Dads, Danny/Bruce, who are unknowingly co-parenting, so here it is! (set during the first prompt through the years of Danny just being a dad whenever he's home)

"I just don't know what to do," Bruce admits, watching Dick stomp about in tiny angry circles, muttering in his native tongue under his breath. He's been out there for about a half hour, doing laps in the yard. Danny knows he deliberately chose to do so under the window leading to Bruce's office.

The kid definitely wanted his guardian to know he was mad at him .

It was the fact Dick was unconsciously hunching his shoulders, curling his fist, and even raising his knee slightly higher than he needed for his stomps that were a nod to Bruce whenever the man was upset.

It seemed like Dick had picked up habits from Bruce during his short time here. If anything, Danny thought it rather cute if it weren't for the fact Dick was so upset.

"What happened?" He asked, standing beside Bruce, overlooking the pre-teen throwing a fit.

Bruce's frown is sharp and hinted with just the edge of uncertainty that anyone who didn't know him well would have dismissed. "He was being reckless in one of our extreme sports, and when I rightfully scolded him for it, he took it as me not trusting him."

Danny tilts his head, considering. It's been over three years since he became acquainted with the Waynes, and in that time- between his travels, his inventing, and his general desire to learn all he could in any way he could- he noticed that Dick was very quick to anger as a defensive mechanism.

This clashed horribly with Bruce's own mechanism- which was shutting down or at least emotionally wise. While Dick sneered and raged against the world, Bruce tried his best to forget he was human and detached himself from the situation.

Which wouldn't be so bad if it didn't feed into Dick's insecurities or Bruce's anxiety when they both reacted to adverse situations.

He has spoken to Jazz about it, and his sister has given him some advice that has helped him smooth things over with the young boy. Empathizing and paraphrasing the boy's issues was a big step in letting him feel heard and his feelings acknowledged.

For Bruce, he treated him like a ghost who had never seen a human. Plenty of ghosts were never human, were born in the ghost zone, or had been there for so long that they had forgotten what humans were like. Danny took time to explain why someone reacted the way they did- at least, why he thought so- and never made Bruce feel less for needing the help.

It was fun, in a way, to see Bruce's eyes lighten up with understanding and get him to talk about his rooted issues, but having to do so on carefully balanced tones and word choice. Phantom had so much practice de-escalating ghosts that it was a walk in the park with Bruce.

"I'll talk to him," Danny promised, leaning over to rest his hand on Bruce's shoulder and not batting an eye when the taller man landed down to rest his forehead on Danny's shoulder.

Where Bruce couldn't say in words, he yelled in his actions. It reminded him a bit of Wulf.

Bruce took a deep breath before nodding. "Thank you."

Danny hummed, reaching up to pet Bruce's hair like he would soothe Wulf, on days the werewolf would twitch too much at the door slamming, and suddenly his friend was mentally back in Walker's prison. "No problem. But, I will also be speaking to you later, and you are going to listen to Dick's side of the story without interrupting at dinner."

"Yes, Danny"

Alfred threw him an approving smile as he marched outside to meet Dick's rage-filled eyes and nervous hand twitching. He could catch the ending bits of whatever rant the boy was muttering.

"You're right. Bruce is an idiot sometimes." He starts grinning as the boy's eyes narrow further.

"You don't speak Romani."

"I may not understand what you're saying, but trust me, I feel it." Danny chirps, watching Dick's shoulder relax a little. " What did he do this time?"

"You won't even believe it!" Dick snaps, and then he's off, Danny keeping pace with him step by step as the boy works himself into another frenzy.

Later that night, Dick explained that he hated how Bruce made him feel so belittled and unimportant, his voice tight with a itch to fight, and Bruce carefully- with significant prompting from Danny- explained how he didn't mean it that way. He was only worried that he was about to watch Dick die in front of him, and he couldn't live through losing his family again.

Dick looked shocked to be considered family, and Danny swore he helped the boy sneak into Bruce's office, which so happened to have the adoption papers Bruce was hiding. Alfred gave him a large sample of pudding for dessert.

______________________________________________

"Hey, kid," Danny whispered, watching Jason tense up momentarily. It's not overly noticeable, but Danny has grown used to seeing little ghost blobs show emotions by how they twisted and twirled over the years, so he could tell what the slight tightening of the fingers around the book meant.

Anxious.

It would be understandable if Jason had been present for another one of Dick's and Bruce's explosive arguments. He came from a household that had an older male figure beat him whenever Willis got in a mood, so while he knew that Bruce or Dick would never hit him, Jason still tried to make himself scarce.

Jazz was the one to point out Jason's usage of escapism in the form of books to comfort himself, and so Danny took whatever time he could manage to read the same books as Jason while on his travels.

"What?" The boy grunted, voice soft but weary.

Danny sits across from him, making sure to stay in Jason's eyesight at all times. He had realized in only his second visit after meeting Jason that the boy did not like having someone too close in his space.

He grew up on the streets where being weary of older men kept him alive- Danny would never fault him for what he had to do to survive.

Unlike Dick, who was always down to talk about why he was upset if only to rant, Jason preferred to have a distraction. So he offers him a smile that he hopes projects You're safe with me and pulls out a book from his bag.

Jason's eyes light up at the cover. "I had some theories on Mr. Darcy being in love with Mr.Bingley before he met Elizabeth, and Bruce won't agree with me. Help me find citations as proof?"

"It's so obvious that he was, how can the old man not see that!" Jason snorts, tilting his head in a cute habit that he picked up from Dick. He really looks up to his big brother no matter how tense things can get.

Danny is glad he's gotten Dick to explain to Jason that he didn't hate him, but he was going through a lot, and Jason as a street kid, understood on some level.

"The old just hate listening to other people's suggestions even when we're right!." Jason leans over to read the book Danny places between them, considering Jane Austin's work while Danny files away the real reason he's upset with Bruce.

Later, after Jason and he present a bemused Bruce with a report on why Mr.Darcy is bi and had feelings for his best friend before meeting his wife, he tells Bruce to explain why he didn't consider Jason's suggestion in their extreme sport.

Jason goes to bed that night with a better answer than "because I said so," and Danny forces Bruce to go up to his room and re-read Pride and Prejudice to connect with his youngest.

Alfred offers them extra blankets and pillows since the two get so caught up reading to each other that Danny just decides sleeping in Bruce's bed is easier than walking down two wings to the guest rooms.

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

"I'm not going to bed," Tim snapped when Danny knocked on his door. His fingers are flying over the keyboard of his computer, his little face glowing from the computer screen, and Danny is almost reminded of himself whenever he gets caught up in his work.

It may worry Bruce and Alfred, but Danny is a Fenton. He knows what it's like to have his brain run over time and sacrifice sleep or meals to get his ideas into the world.

His mother is the same, his father is the same, his sister is the same, and even Danny's clone is the same. It's fitting that the little boy he caught following Batmam around with a camera is the same since he all but forced Bruce to adopt him.

He hadn't meant to.

He had been testing an air purifier when he returned to Gotham since Bruce and the kids were out of state, and his ghost hearing picked up the sound of a camera click.

Imagine his surprise that when he turned to the roof opposite him, he found the tiny little face of an eleven-year-old staring back, holding a camera, and Batman swinging away in the distance. Danny became attached to Tim that night, even after he chased the boy down to ask if he was safe.

He did not like the implications of his parents always "working" while Tim ran amok in Gotham.

It took almost two weeks of following Tim around Gotham to help him with his photos before the boy allowed him to take him to Wayne Manor. It took three more before Bruce realized that Danny wouldn't allow Tim's parents to win him back, and together, they took the Drakes to court.

Danny has never been more grateful that Bruce was loaded with money and that his inventions gained him contacts in high places that wouldn't mind taking the Drakes down.

Tim was a lot like Bruce- where he shut down- but he needed people to be around him more. Sometimes just sitting in the same room- where Tim could glance up and see him- was enough for the boy to be at ease.

This was great for Bruce, who thought he didn't need to do much to make Tim happy- until Danny reminded him that Tim was a poor boy who was gutted for any form of parental approval.

He had to almost punch Bruce after overhearing him tell Tim he was proud of him, but there was room for improvement. Bruce meant it as helpful, constructive criticism, but Tim- whose parents all but drilled how useless he was- only heard criticism.

Only heard, he was not enough.

So now Tim was going, who knew how many hours without sleep, trying to fix whatever issue he thought he had caused. How a fourteen-year-old could have caused issues at his adoptive dad's multimillion-dollar company was beyond Danny, but it meant a lot to Tim, so he didn't need to understand it.

He just needed to respect it.

"Don't want you to," Danny grunts, throwing himself on Tim's queen-sized bed. "I just wanted to know if I could crash here. Bruce pissed me off."

Tim's fingers pause. "What did he do?"

"He tried to tell me how to handle my inventions' payment. I'm a freelancer! I know how to do that." Danny complains while twisting under the covers. Tim slowly turns around to look at him, but he acts like he doesn't notice. "I know he'll try to talk to me in the guest rooms, but he won't find me here. I just don't want to listen to another "I can do it better" lecture."

After a moment's pause, Tim admits. "He did the same to me and my team."

He means Cassie, Bart, and Conner. The little team of photography buddies Bruce introduced Tim back when they started homeschooling him. Dani suggested pulling Tim out of school is one of the best advice his clone ever gave him.

Tim took the pictures, Cassie and Conner modeled, and Bart made the clothes. Their work was slowly gaining traction online, and Tim seemed to glow whenever the Team was mentioned.

"Course he did." Danny sigh. He leans back into the pillow. "Know why he did it, too. Bruce doesn't want me to be taken advantage of, but it's hard not to hear him think I can't keep up, especially when my family is doing the same thing."

"Yeah," Tim's voice is soft. "It's frustrating that all your hard work is overshadowed or that everything you've done so far doesn't prove that you know you can."

Bingo. Danny discovered Tim's issue; now he just needs to bring it home.

"I know I'm great at what I do. You said so yourself- my past proves I am crazy good at work. I leave other people breathless in awe all the time. I can adapt and overcome so much faster than others. Bruce can see that, but he forgets to praise it." Danny huffs like he's trying not to be forgiving, and it causes a smile to unwillingly appear on Tim's face.

"I'll talk to him tomorrow but today I'm being petty and hiding. Thanks for letting me sleep here"

"You're welcome, Danny." Tim goes back to his typing, but only after a minute or two of Danny asking if he can turn off the light does the boy save his work and shut his computer down.

The room is plunged into darkness but Danny doesn't need the light to see how Tim sinks into his mattress. Tim is smart- crazy smart that every part of him that's Fenton crows with pride- and he can easily see through Danny.

"Thank you Danny" He doesn't say what for but he doesn't need to.

Danny reaches over, grabs the blankets, and makes sure they cover the small shoulder, tucking Tim in properly. "Any time kid"

The next morning, Bruce wakes them up with a powerpoint of all the things he thought were impressive about Tim and his team's last photo session. A powerpoint for Pete's sake.

But it makes Tim smile so much that Danny lets it slide. At least he listened when Danny chewed him out for forgetting to praise Tim.

Alfred offers Danny some of his private tea jars, which according to Dick, means Danny is in for life as Tim, Jason, and Bruce go over the PowerPoint again. Jason has begone to heal for his bitch of a mother's betrayal a few months ago.

Thankfully, Danny was in the area when he called and reminded the lady why she should not mess with Bruce's kids. Dani paying her a visit in her jail cell was just the Fentons' sending their regards.

(His dad gave Dani the ani-creep stick, and his mom hacked the cameras to loop. Jazz just watched hours of her to realize what made the woman scream and cry before sending the clone on her way. It was a good family bonding moment)

No one believed the woman claiming to be haunted that her son was Robin. Honestly, where on earth she got that idea Danny would never know.

His Jason, the sweet school-loving boy who graduated as valedictorian, running around punching criminals? Honestly, what was she going to claim next?

Bruce being Batman?!

Please.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #freelance inventor #part 2 #spirit halloween #Danny being a dad for the three first robins #Bruce not understanding emotions #And the kids not understanding their own emotions #Jazz trained her brother well #Fenton's are crazy and Super smart #They are aware of Danny's Not-Boyfriend and his kids #They love them

[gay-dorito-dust]

hello.

Could you make a Damian x reader request?

Some hurt/comfort and fluff?

Idk if this is what you were after, hope it was but I can never be too sure.

‘Do I annoy you?’ You asked one day as you were hanging out in Damian’s room.

‘Why do you ask?’ Damian replied, having stopped what he was doing to give you his undivided attention.

‘Just…just answer the question. Please.’ You sighed as your anxieties began to worsened the longer Damian avoided the question.

You didn’t want what they said to be true.

‘Not until you’ve answered mine first.’ Damian said stubbornly, unwilling to let go of the feeling that something was wrong and was trying to find out what exactly by closely examining your face. You sighed again and looked up from the floor for the first time since coming over. ‘I ask because I overheard something that hadn’t sat right with me since.’ You glanced over at Damian, only to see that he was waiting for you to continue.

‘They said that you only tolerate me, that I’m just someone you felt sorry for me and took pity on.’ You continued, looking back down at the floor again as you began to pick at your cuticles, a self damaging habit that Damian had made continuous effort to stop.

‘Who said that.’ Damian said.

‘What-‘ you tried to ask before getting cut off.

‘Who said that.’ Damian repeated, his face was borderline unreadable as he then stood up from his desk, walked over to where you were before sitting down next to you. ‘Tell me.’ He adds when you didn’t say anything after a while, he wanted to do something but couldn’t if he didn’t know who to aim his anger towards.

‘Just some people at school. I’m probably overthinking it though,’ you began to backtrack out of fear that they were right and words were just starting to flow out at this point. ‘They could’ve been talking about anyone in general but-‘

‘You don’t have to defend them.’ Damian interrupts you once again, hating the fact that some idiots managed to get inside your head, and plant seeds of doubt within your head about the legitimacy of your friendship. ‘And for clarification you aren’t an annoyance, nor someone I just so happened to take pity on one day, you’re my friend and a loyal one at that.’ He says as he watched every emotion flashes cross your face.

‘All they speak are lies and falsehoods y/n. I promise you that I will get back at them tenfold.’ Vows Damian as he rests a hand on your shoulder but he could quickly tell that it wasn’t his word what you wanted. No, you wanted more then just his word as words tend to fail in moments where actions excel.

‘What if I don’t want your word Damian.’ You said as you looked at him with doubtful eyes. ‘What if I want you to prove it, to prove that they were lying about everything.’ Damian hums, his face became one of deep thought before the perfect idea came to him as he was quick to his feet, offering out his hand to you. ‘Then let me start proving them wrong by taking you to the barn. There’s someone I’ve been meaning to introduce to you for a while now but just haven’t quite felt that the right moment has occurred,’ Damian says as he pulled you to your feet the moment you reached out and grabbed his hand, ‘until now.’

‘Who?’ You questioned. You’ve already meet Jerry the turkey, BatCow, Titus, Alfred the cat and Ace, who could you have possibly not met yet that Damian had saved for this very moment?

‘Goliath.’ Was his reply and by that alone you knew you were in for something beyond special as you willingly allowed Damian to pull you through the Manor, a small smile came across your face as you let Damian fill you in about this Goliath figure; happy that Damian was staring to let you in finally.

#dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc fanfic #dc fic #dc comics x reader #dc x y/n #dc fanfiction #damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne x you #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagines #damian wayne fluff

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally Getting Help (prt 11)

Masterpost

When Jason arrived at the manor to meet Danny it wasn’t him who greeted him but Damian. Jason tensed as he always did when he saw Damian, though now the feeling he got when he saw Damian made more sense to him. He had read the slide show, he knew that the urge to fight Damian wasn’t hatred, and neither was the way Damian lashed out at him… at least probably not. They should spar more, but not right now, he still needed to overcome the urge to fight Damian in the lobby.

“Todd,” Damian greeted.

“Demon-Brat,” Jason said, insults were practically his love language now anyway. 

Damian sniffed disdainfully, but he was shifting from foot to foot. He had something to say and was struggling to figure out how. Jason crossed his arms and dutifully waited for Damian to spit it out. “Danny has warned me about the role that combat has in courtship for his kind, I do not know why on earth he would want you to court him But that is his decision. I will not interfere but understand that he is vulnerable and he is protected. If you hurt him in any way there will be consequences.” 

“I’m not planning to hurt him, but I also don’t even know if we are ‘courting’ yet,” Jason said rolling his eyes. 

“Well then you’re even more of a fool then I thought,” Damian said with a disdainful sniff. “He’s a very powerful being, Zatana says that he will likely grow to be a god, you should be grateful he is willing to let you court him.” 

Jason blinked rapidly, he hadn’t been here for that conversation so that was the first he was hearing of that! It also occurred to him that Damian had a baby-crush on Danny and considered teasing him about it but decided not to. “Huh, good to know,” He said, simply reaching out to ruffle Damian’s hair and missing on purpose as he dodged away. “So where is Danny?”

“He’s waiting for you in the dojo upstairs,” Damian said, sounding a little resigned as he gestured upwards. “I hope you made reservations for somewhere worthy.”

“Don’t worry Dami,” Jason snorted, brushing past him to head towards the stairs. “I’ve got it under control.”

Once again as soon as he entered the dojo and saw Danny the violent urges surged but he wasn’t alone and he didn’t swing first. Danny came at him first and Jason rose to meet him. The fight was longer but less desperate this time. It felt like they were getting out their energy and anger without meaning it, and by the end Jason and Danny were both breathing hard and purring again. It really did feel like bonding, they were closer now then they had been at the beginning of the fight, even if they had hardly said a word.

It ended in a stalemate, or, Jason got Danny pinned but it couldn’t have been more obvious that Danny let him. Jason was glad they didn’t have an audience this time so later he could deny that made him blush. Danny gave him a cheeky grin and reached up to pull Jason down, slow enough that Jason was able to scramble away before Danny got hold of him.

He coughed to clear his  throat awkwardly, grabbing one of the towels that sat on a shelf on one side of the dojo, using it to wipe his face and the back of his neck. The fight had been intense enough to make him sweat, though Danny still seemed unbothered, and there were some gym style showers off of the dojo. 

“Well I’m glad I brought a change of clothes!I’m going to have a quick shower and then we can go out for dinner okay?”

“Sounds good, I’ll go change too. Alfred bought me a Ton of new clothes, I really didn’t need that much more. By the way, what sort of place are we going? I mean, should I dress up?” Danny asked a little awkwardly, Running a hand back through his hair to try and push his bangs back.

“I mean, probably a little bit?” Jason said. “If I didn’t take you somewhere nice I think Damian would shank me. It’s cute how protective of you he is,” Jason teased. 

“Alright, so we talking jeans and a button down? Or proper dress pants?” Danny asked, cocking his head to the side. 

“Better to go with dress pants. The good ones are pretty comfortable anyway, and Alfred wouldn’t get you bad one. No need for a jacket though, unless you’ll be cold?” 

“I have an ice core, I never get cold,” Danny laughed. Jason was just going to pretend he understood what that meant.

“Alright,” Danny agreed, bouncing to his feet in a way that denied gravity and bouncing out of the room to go get changed.

Jason grinned like an idiot after him before shaking off the feeling and going to have a quick shower and get dressed for their date.

Jason showered and dressed in a red shirt and soft brown pants before meeting up with Danny who was wearing a blue that brought out his eyes and black pants, he looked… very good. Judging by the blush on Danny’s cheeks he thought the same thing about Jason. 

“Have you ridden on a motorbike before?” Jason asked rather than acknowledging any of that.

“Oh! Ya I have, not that often but I know the basics,” Danny assured, following Jason eagerly towards the door. 

“Great, I have an extra helmet for you.”

“Do I have to?” Danny sighed dramatically. “It wouldn’t kill me anyway if I fell off.”

“Yes you have to,” Jason said firmly, his stomach twisting at the idea of Danny getting hurt. “You have to be more careful Danny! I get that we’re all bad about risk taking, and you’re tough, but you don’t have just yourself to worry about anymore!” Jason said, trying not to sound too much like he was scolding Danny. He wasn’t sure it worked because Danny did look pretty chided as he took the helmet. 

“The babies aren’t in my head, the helmet wouldn’t protect them,” He muttered as he put it on. Jason just hummed and rolled his eyes as he put his own on. 

Danny got on the bike behind him and wrapped his arms around Jason’s waist, snuggling up against his back even as continued to sulk. “Hold on tight, and the helmets have mics so we can still talk without having to yell. It’s a bit of a drive,” Jason warned. He could have gotten there a lot faster, but not without breaking traffic laws and he was in civvies so a half hour drive it had to be.

Danny hummed and tightened his grip on Jason as he kicked back the stand and revved the bike, peeling out of the driveway in a way he knew would piss off Bruce. It also made Danny yelp and cling tighter though so Jason slowed down a bit once they were out of the driveway. 

Danny was quiet for maybe ten minutes and Jason was starting to worry he’d upset Danny more then he realized and maybe should apologize when he spoke up. “You’re right. When Cass clocked that I was pregnant it was the first time I’d talked to anyone about it besides Vlad. I’m not… Honestly the way I’ve survived most of the shit that’s happened to me was not thinking about the implications. I’m not sure how I’m going to do this. I’m in a way better position now then I was even a week ago but it’s going to be such a big change I’m having a hard time imagining what it's even going to look like.”

Jason hummed, nodding and taking a moment to consider his response. His first instinct was to remind Danny that he didn’t Have to have the babies since it was still early but he knew that the other bats would have already brought it up. If Danny was anything other than fiercely protective and utterly determined to have the babies Bruce and Dick would still be trying to convince him to not be a teen parent and focus on his education. The same way they had tried to convince everyone in the family not to be vigilantes and utterly failed. 

“You’re going to be a good dad Danny, and you’re not going to do this alone. Bruce never got to have any of us as babies, the youngest of us was 12 when he adopted us and I know he’s looking forward to having a baby around. Alfred is too, and Damian and Dick will compete for best uncle. Money is no object, you’ll get everything you and the babies need. It’s still going to be a big change obviously but there’s nothing to be scared of I promise,” Could he make that promise really? Well he just did so he’d better do his best to make sure it was kept. 

“It’s not just that though,” Danny said and hesitated again. Jason stayed quiet to let him organize his thoughts. “My binder is hurting more to wear, my.. Chest aches, I told Bruce I was just incubating ghost cores. And that’s what I’ve been telling Myself too, but I got sick this morning and the babies are clones of me, and I’m half human. What if I actually am pregnant?

“I told Jazz I’d bring up going to a human doctor but then dodged it. I haven’t been in years and I am nervous about going again but it’s more than that. I don’t like my body, I’m too young for hormones or surgery but if my body changes. What if my chest hurts too much and I can’t wear my binder anymore? What if they grow more? They’ve always been small enough to hide before.

“I don’t mind the idea of my stomach growing, or even really being a mom. I’m a man but I do feel like I identify more with maternity than paternity. It’s really just my.. Breasts. God I hate that word. I don’t want them to grow, I don’t want to lactate or breastfeed. I mean, I DO, I actually really do but just the idea is giving my dysphoria at the same time that I really want to do it to bond with the babies.” It was like a dam had broken and Danny’s words came fast and a little loud, breathing hard between bouts of talking. 

“Deep breaths please Danny, take a few deep breaths,” Jason soothed, taking one hand off the handlebars briefly to pat Danny’s hands where they were clasped over his stomach. He was a bit at a loss about this, none of his siblings were trans, he knew trans people but he’d never had to talk anyone through these particular problems. “These are a lot of what ifs to be panicking about. It’s totally your choice, the babies can be bottle fed if the time comes and you’re not up to it. There’s nothing wrong with that. We’ll all be here for you no matter what happens, but you really should go to the doctor Danny. At least then we’ll know what to expect right?”

“Will you come with me to the doctor? I’m a bit scared of human doctors, I’ve heard people talking about experimenting on me so much as Phantom that every time I’m in a lab-like environment now I can’t stop thinking about it,” Danny asked, a pleading edge to his voice.

“Ya, I’ll come with you, and whoever else you want,” Jason promised, because what else could he say? “We’ll make an appointment for you with Dr. Leslie, she sees all of us vigilantes, she sees just about everyone involved in the night life and never Ever talks to the cops or the feds. Trust me no one can get that woman to talk to anyone, she’s safe.”

“Thank you,” Danny murmured, leaning his cheek against Jason’s shoulder. The rest of the ride was a quiet one as Danny recovered and Jason tried not to overthink his lackluster responses. 

-----

Jason parked a block away from the restaurant rather than trusting any concierge with his bike and waited for Danny to get off before he did. He took off his helmet and took Danny’s from him and locked them both in the storage compartment on his bike before leading the way, shoving his hands awkwardly in his pockets. He was never the most… socially competent. He was better than Tim but he was worse than Dick and Bruce and in moments like this he wished these things came a little easier to him.

Danny was quiet, his hands swinging loosely by his side as he followed, Jason noted the way he kept looking around them. They all did that, looking for threats civilians might not see, it was how you spotted a hero even when they weren’t trying to be spotted. Still there were no problems between the bike and the restaurant and when they got inside Jason softly asked the host to make sure Danny got one of the menus without prices. He was knew to this lifestyle, Jason remembered the first time he’d gone out to a fancy dinner with Wayne the prices had nearly given him a heart attack and he was younger and less set in his ways then Danny.

He didn’t want Danny to worry about the prices, he’d be paying and he was both the son of a millionaire and a crime lord, he could buy the entire fucking place without blinking. The host nodded understanding and ushered both of them to the most private table in the establishment. 

They settled in and ordered drinks, Jason a coke and Danny a signature lemonade before they were left with the menus. Danny gave Jason a suspicious look when he noticed there weren’t any prices but when Jason innocently pretended not to notice Danny huffed and decided not to bring it up. 

“Order whatever you want, appetizer and dessert too,” Jason encouraged, putting on his innocent face again when Danny gave him a Look. 

“Alright,” Danny agreed with a dramatic sigh, he didn’t need to be pushed too hard though, Alfred had mentioned Danny was almost always hungry, wish was why Jason hadn’t chosen one of the fancy places with ridiculously small portions.

Danny took a while to choose, and asked Jason about a few items and words on the menu. Finally he sighed and put his menu down to indicate he was done. It wasn’t long before the waitress returned to take their order for appetizers and main before vanishing again.

“So,” Danny asked leaning against the table and clasping his hands. “You have questions?”

Next

#danny phantom #Danny is pregnant #trans!danny #jason todd #dead on main #tw dysphoria #damian wayne #dc x dp #finally getting help au #unedited #tell me if you find any mistakes #the date ended up being 2 parts #oops

[biancabi]

Jason: *Walking around the living room with a book until tripping over something*

Tim: *Lying on the ground being the "something" Jason tripped over*

Jason: What the fuck, Replacement?

Tim: Sleep is overrated and I don't need it!!

Jason: Of course, that clarifies everything. What do you think if we make the consumption of peanuts illegal too?

Tim: Actually that would be pretty fantastic-

Jason: No, I was being sarcastic. Why the hell are you on the ground?

Tim: I'm trying to test a theory about how inertia acts on bodies-

Jason: *Raising an eyebrow* You fell and you're too tired to get up, right?

Tim: ...

Tim: ....yes.

-

Jason: *Yelling* Can someone tell me why the hell the kitchen is covered in waffle batter everywhere??

Steph: *With a stack of fifty waffles at her side* We're making waffes, obviously

Jason: And you had to dirty Alfie's entire kitchen for that??

Steph: It's just a little disaster, he won't even notice.

Jason: He doesn't notice the flour on the floor, eggs on the windows and dough on the ceiling??

Steph: You're making it sound more serious than it is.

Jason: Don't fuck, goldie.

-

Jason: *Entering dramatically* Alright little bitches, which one of you takes my copy of Pride and Prejudice??

Dick: I haven't seen your book, littlewing

Duke: Don't you have like a ten copies of that book?

Jason: First, I have fifteen copies of Pride and Prejudice. Second, they took my special anniversary copy. So which one of you has it??

Dick: Are you sure you didn't leave it somewhere?

Jason: No, I looked everywhere in this damn manor and it's NOT there.

Duke: Man, it's practically impossible for you to have covered the entire manor, I tried but I got tired after 5 hours. 5 HOURS!! AND I ONLY WENT THROUGH THE EAST WING.

Jason: THAT'S NOT THE POINT! WHO HAS MY BOOK?!

Dick: *Replying to Duke* I don't know, after getting lost in the hallways I never tried to navigate the manor again.

Jason: HEY! RESPOND BEFORE I START TAKING THE BULLETS OUT!

Duke: *Excited* What if there is some type of ghost or entity that is hidden in the hallways?

Dick: That wouldn't be so strange, I mean, this manor is very old.

Jason: IT DON'T CARE IF THERE ARE ANY DAMN GHOSTS. I WANT MY BOOK.

Duke: Just think about it, what if the ghost took your book??

Jason: *Taking out their guns* This is it, it's bullet time.

-

Bruce: Jason, could you explain to me why my living room is full of bullet holes?

Jason: Whoa, old man. If we think about it technically, everything is your fault.

Bruce: Pardon?

Jason: I think it's actually Alfred you should apologize to, but I guess I accept your apology.

Bruce: *Take a deep breath* Jason, how is this my fault?

Jason: *Moving his hands indifferently* I mean, if you hadn't adopted seven of us your living room wouldn't be covered in bullet holes. So technically it's your fault.

Bruce: ...

Jason: You know, you should have stopped at kid number two.

-

Jason: *Holding Damian by the neck like a kitten* Why the hell did you jump out of the batmobile? Were you even thinking???

Damian: *Squirming* I was trying to get out of the terrible experience of you driving alive. We almost crashed and died AGAIN.

Jason: Oi demon brat, Just so you know we almost collided because you jumped out the window suddenly.

Damian: This wouldn't have happened if I had been driving.

Jason: *Exasperated* Your feet can't even reach the brakes. How do you think-

*They both freeze when they hear police sirens, they look at each other and back at the crashed Batmobile.*

Jason: Did you know? Bruce doesn't need to know this.

Damian: This is the first time I agree with you Todd, we don't have to bother Father with little things.

Jason: *Escaping from the place* Yes yes yes, definitely

#damian wayne #batfam #batman #batfamily #batkids #bruce wayne #dick grayson #duke thomas #stephanie brown #jason todd #tim drake #batboys

[lazycats-stuff]

May i request a baby bat (preferably male) that's left at home with a babysitter (it was after Alfred's surgery or he could just be sick but he's resting) while everyone is out on missions and the babysitter is completely ignoring the babies cries for food and a diaper change while titus is trying to comfort him (btw i noticed that you write titus as doberman even though he's a great dane? Please don't take offense i didn't know if this was on purpose or not so i just thought I'll point it out!) baby ends up crawling out of his crib, out of the doggy door and into the streets in only a diaper and shorts and of course titus is right behind, every time baby tries to go into traffic titus is gently nudging him away with his snout , every time a random person tries to pick up the baby and take him to the police titus is not having it, until eventually word reaches the batfam about this and they go to investigate and the unbelievable anger they felt after watching the camera footage of inside their house, you can choose what happens to the babysitter but family fluff with the baby please! Sorry if this is long i just heard from other writers that the more details they have the easier it is to write, thank you!

Okay, thank you for pointing it out that Titus is a great dane because, I could swear on anything, that Titus is a Doberman. I'm not sure whether or not I need new glasses or a new brain. And don't worry, I'm not offended, just shocked that I'm that dumb and blind. Either way lets get to writing.

Summary: (Y/N) has to be babysat by somebody outside of the family. It doesn't end well.

Warnings: child neglect, Titus is the best dog, the batfam loosing their minds, again child neglect if anyone is sensitive to that, babysitter is awful.

This GIF is in honor of Titus and I know Titus isn't the same color, but it's too cute.

Bruce was very hesitant to leave his young son with an outsider. He was a baby and Bruce might be protective, but this is his first son who was a baby, so unable to defend himself, so vulnerable. Jason sometimes said a bit stupid, but that they had a sense of who was who.

Whenever he cried, Bruce was the one to calm him down. And (Y/N) could tell when to do help out the family. He still remembers how Lex took him from his arms and Jason was ready to deck him. What did (Y/N do?

Threw up on a very expensive Italian suit. Bruce was apologizing, but with absolutely no sincerity in his voice. Jason took (Y/N) at the time, cooing at the baby, wiping his mouth with a tissue.

Bruce was impressed with how much babies had a sense for people. Maybe that should have been thinking of that when he hired the babysitter. (Y/N) was fine with Bruce, but with the babysitter he got a bit fussy. But Bruce brushed it off, thinking it must be because she is new. But Bruce had no choice. Alfred is recovering and they are swamped with missions.

And it seems that (Y/N) was right about his feeling about this babysitter. After caring for a few hours, (Y/N) was forgotten. Bruce had given the babysitter a very specific schedule on when (Y/N) was supposed to be fed and when he was going to go to sleep.

(Y/N) was crying, because he was hungry. He was squirming in his crib, the diaper heavy due to being unchanged. The only person who seemed to care, well, an animal who seemed to care was Titus, Damian's dog. The Great Dane fell in love with (Y/N) from the moment he has seen him as a newborn.

Everyone was slightly worried, but the Great Dane was great with (Y/N). Always near him, always coming to check on him when he is crying, or just to watch him play. Even when Damian is taking him for a walk or just to play outside, he always has to have (Y/N) watching. So more often then not, Damian is carrying (Y/N) in a baby carrier while in the yard with Titus.

And Titus came to (Y/N)'s room, wondering why his baby brother was crying. He sniffed his hands and gave them a lick to comfort his brother. (Y/N) stopped crying for a second, but he still sniffled. Titus sniffed down at the diaper. He whined a bit from the smell too.

Bruce said that Titus had a superpower when it came to (Y/N)'s diapers. Although just a good sense of smell, Titus alerted everyone when (Y/N)'s diaper needed to be changed. Anyone he could find, he would lead them to (Y/N).

Now (Y/N) was slightly less upset, but still upset. Titus tilted his head when he saw how (Y/N) turned on his stomach and started moving through a small opening. (Y/N) was now crawling out of the room and Titus followed. The babysitter was laughing on the phone, laughing at whatever the friend said.

(Y/N) crawled to the kitchen, stopping for a second. He moved to the back door, crawling through the doggy door. Titus followed without hesitation, walking right behind (Y/N).

Eventually, they have reached the city. Titus was never a fan of it, believe it or not. He preferred the backyard and its quietness. He never liked the smell of it either.

(Y/N) tried to get to the road and Titus was quick to push him away from them. They continued walking and it looked like something out a movie. Maybe a children's cartoon.

And not a good one.

A lady tried to pick (Y/N) up, but Titus made a biting sound at her, not wanting her to take his baby brother. She backed off and (Y/N) continued on his adventure. Well, there was some luck to it. James Gordon aka Jim Gordon was driving by and stopped the car.

He met the family and they were good friends. He recognized Titus and he recognized (Y/N). He stopped the car and got out, moving towards the animal baby duo.

" (Y/N)! What are you doing here champ? " Gordon said, crouching down in front of the baby. Titus bared his teeth, but relaxed when he saw that it was Gordon.

" And what are you doing here Titus? Either way, lets get you both to the station. "

(Y/N) was picked up and Titus waited in front on the passengers side. Gordon opened it and Titus squeezed himself in. Gordon sat back inside and went directly to the station. He needed to change (Y/N)'s diapers and call Bruce Wayne. Something is off.

Bruce was on the way back home, just ready to crash. His kids were with him too and they all wanted to see (Y/N) after being separated for so long. It felt awful. All of a sudden there was a call in the car. Bruce accepted, not even looking at who it was.

" Yes? "

" Hey Bruce, it's Jim. There is some news about your youngest. "

Everyone was alert now.

" What do you mean? "

" He was found wandering the streets. Titus was with him, moving him away from the traffic. Is anyone watching him? "

" Babysitter is supposed to... Why? " Bruce asked, now worried.

" Well, he was in a desperate need of a diaper change and a bottle. He downed a bottle. "

Bruce was speechless. What!?

" Okay, I'm going to the station now, I also have the camera feed on my phone so I can check what the hell happened. " Bruce said, taking his phone out. He unlocked and handed it to Tim next to him.

" Tim, check the footage. I want to know what's happening. " Bruce said, taking a sharp turn.

" Hang on, let me find it. " Tim said, looking for the said footage.

Bruce floored the gas pedal, making sure to be fast as possible. He parked with a screech and everyone got out of the car. Bruce and the others went inside, moving quickly to the offices and they saw Titus and people around him, just petting him, but Gordon was sitting in the chair with (Y/N) on his lap.

" Hey Bruce. " Gordon said, watching the distraught father taking his son into his arms, cooing and swaying him.

" Oh my son, what were you doing in the streets? " Bruce said, kissing his son on the head. Titus went to Damian and Damian gave him scratches and praises.

" Good boy, you followed (Y/N) and made sure he was safe. "

" I have something B. It seems that the babysitter ignored (Y/N). " Tim said and everyone crowded around Tim to see. Everyone in the room looked in shock as they watched the babysitter ignore (Y/N). Titus was there to comfort him at least.

" Oh no. Oh hell no old man. " Jason said, clenching his fists.

" Don't worry mister Todd, we will arrest her. " Gordon said.

" Good. Oh my poor brother. Hand him over. " Jason said, taking (Y/N) into his arms.

" Damian, remind me to buy Titus everything he wants next time we go to the pet shop. " Jason said, kissing his brother's head.

" Will do. Now can we go to the manor to arrest her? " Damian asked, and Gordon agreed.

The babysitter walked out of the manor in cuffs, protesting. Bruce didn't waste his words, he went to his room and laid down on the bed and then laying (Y/N) down on his chest.

The others filed in, laying down to Bruce on both sides. They were comfortable on the Alaskan bed, happy to be near their baby brother.

" Night everyone. " Bruce said.

There were murmurs of good night and all of them could finally fall asleep, with their baby brother near them. Oh and Titus?

That good boy, no, the best boy laid down at the foot of the bed, also guarding the little boy.

#dc comics #dc x male reader #batfamily #x male reader #batkids #batman x child!male reader #bruce wayne #batman #platonic relationships

[kaiyaamin]

Hi, I don't know if you're taking requests, but here's one. Imagine that Bruce somehow ends up becoming a child again and this leaves his children a little desperate for fear of Y/N and Alfred's reaction, and during this time that Bruce stays in his child form one thing becomes very noticeable is that Bruce simply doesn't leave his wife's side (Y/N) and this somehow ends up making the boys, especially Damian, jealous and in the end everything is resolved.

Kisses♡ (by the way, I love your writing and I'm sorry if I'm a little confused, it's because English isn't my first language)

Little Bruce

Bruce Wayne x Y/n (batmom)

"Hey Bruce what does this do?", Here we go again Jason decided to use another machine zapping it accidentally at Bruce. " Jason, Why do you always do this didn't you learn from the age swap machine", Dick scold Jason again.

Dad are you okay, Tim said reaching towards the the oversized clothes that were on the floor. "Hi", A little boy suddenly came out of the clothes and waved.

immediately the boys started screaming and panicking. " oh no, what are Mom and Alfred going to say?", Tim said fearing for their reaction, already imagining it. "That's what you worried about not that he's butt-naked", Jason said covering his eyes, no one should ever see their dad naked.

"It's your fault stupid", Damian said looking shocked at his father being a child. "Okay, everyone calm down one of us has to tell Mom and Alfred so I vote for Jason", Dick said holding Bruce in his arms. Both Damian and Tim were okay with it, "why me?", Jason whined complaining how it wasn't fair but all he got was Are you kidding me looks from his brothers and even little Bruce.

Time skip

"Hey, kids and extra kid- who is that"? Y/n stared at her kids in shock counting them and making sure she wasn't seeing things. Wait a second that child looks like Bruce. " Mom please don't be mad but I accidentally zap Bruce to a little kid", Jason finishes saying in one breath, waiting to see his mother's reaction.

Alfred was so shocked he dropped a teacup, looking at Bruce reminding him of the past. "WHAT!, you all are grounded for 1 month", Y/n said angrily taking little Bruce out of Dick's arms.

The kids started to help more with taking care of little Bruce. But no matter what he didn't leave Y/n side always hugging her or holding her hand. Little Bruce wouldn't even sleep in the spare bedroom instead slept in his and Y/n rooms.

if you asked any of the boys who were upset with this change they would immediately say Damian. Damian was a momma boy who always got along the most with his Ummi.

"Ummi, Little dad/Bruce is staring out at me with hatred, I request if should kick him out", Damian said glaring back at the little boy. "Dami, we can't do that, he's just a little boy and your father", Y/n said protesting giving little Bruce a hug.

"Mom, it's kinda weird to call a little kid my father", Jason looking at little Bruce making funny faces at him and making him laugh. One thing for sure little Bruce was much happier than adult Bruce. "I guess you're right, it is kinda weird calling him my husband as well", Y/n said side eyeing little Bruce.

While Y/n looked for a doctor to make little Bruce into an adult Bruce, the kids babysat little Bruce. Jason was in charge of entertainment, making sure Bruce was happy because nobody wanted to deal with a crying Bruce. Alfred as usual was in charge of the meals having to expand his cooking to fit Master Little Bruce's appetite. Dick made sure to clean all the messes even the toilets to help Alfred. Tim Made sure little Bruce took his daily naps, reading stories to him, leading to Tim falling asleep. Damian all together decided not to help, because of his strong dislike towards little Bruce.

Y/n had found out about Damian's jealousy towards little Bruce. " Damian I promised you will never be replaced by anyone", Y/n said putting her pinky out for a pinky promise. what surprised me was all her kids felt like this as well, even though they didn't show. "kids I didn't mean to make you feel as if you were being replaced, come on let's hug this out." Y/n even made Alfred join in the hug.

Y/n did end up finding a doctor/mad scientist and he was able to fix Bruce. But the kids decided to take pictures and videos of little Bruce to use as leverage against adult Bruce.

"So what happened when I was Little Bruce, you guys seemed to call me", Bruce said lying in bed and hugging his wife while reading a book. It's a long story I will tell you tomorrow but heads up the kids took embarrassing photos of you when you were little Bruce", Y/n covering herself in the covers. " Oh man", Bruce said slapping his forehead and sighing deeply, while Y/n laughed at his reaction. "I missed you Y/n", Bruce said kissing her lips. "I missed you too little Bruce", Y/n said letting go of the kiss with a teasing grin.

#batman #batfam x reader #batfam x batmom #batmom #batmom imagine #batmom imagines #batmom!reader #bruce wayne #batfamily #batman and robin #bruce wayne x reader #dick grayson #damian wayne #damian al ghul #tim drake #jason todd #little bruce

[bomber-grl]

Just friends..?

Pairing(s): Damian Wayne x Male reader (established relationship)

Summary: reader and Damian have a relationship that isn’t necessarily a secret yet somehow still unknown by the bat fam + the bat fam reacting to Damian having a boyfriend mix

You walked into the Wayne manor and reached the front door.

You and Damian had started dating so long ago you almost didn’t remember when.

But, for some reason, everyone thought you were just friends.

Despite being able to access any and all information about someone, having cameras everywhere, the Wayne family still had no clue about you and Damian’s relationship.

“Hey” Damian said as he slung open the door and motioned you in. You gladly walked in as this hadn’t been the first time you were over.

You and Damian walked into the living room where the fam was gathered and they all greeted you, Bruce spoke up.

“It’s nice to know Damian has a friend that has stuck around.”

Tim laughed, “yea… friends.”

Although neither you or Damian has ever disclosed your relationship it was like Tim knew. Maybe it was the gay in him.

“Whatever” Damian said as he left and ran for the stairs upstairs

Before you turned the corner Alfred spoke out that he’d call you down for dinner and Damian yelled back in agreement.

You both made it down the hall and into his room, he closed the door then let gravity take its affect on his body and lay sprawled out with very obvious implication that he wanted you to join him.

You followed in suite, I mean who are you to deny him? And you laid besides him on your stomach.

You laughed “why so mad Damian?” You started playing with his hair.

“I’m not mad” he furrowed his eyebrows in a way you couldn’t help but find cute and just nodded in defeat

He got up from his laying position and leaned in to kiss your cheek but then the door slammed open and Damian practically flew to the other side of the room.

It was Jason.

“Hey lil man I brought you some of your fav chips and-“

Damian interrupted “Jason! I told you to knock before entering.”

Now he really was mad.

“My bad lil bro” he scratched his head “I didn’t realize your lil boyfriend was here.

You and Damian both knew Jason didn’t know of your relationship but he always called you his (Damian’s) lil boyfriend since all Damian would do was yap about you (Jason’s words)

He made his way to throw the chips at Damian and made it a point that Damian really should lock the door next time, also taking a pillow to the face in the process.

He then left before Damian could pull out his daggers. The noise of the door clinking shut.

“No one respects privacy in this house” he rolled his eyes.

“Calm down Damian, I mean he’s kinda right, we should lock the door if we don’t want to be disturbed- “

“It doesn’t matter, Jason’s probably going to pick the lock regardless” Damian said laying back limp on the bed and you resumed your position.

You two began idly speaking about whatever came to mind at the moment and you spoke without thinking.

You propped yourself on your arm and turned to Damian “You’re such a good friend Damian”

You said this smiling knowing you’d get a roll of the eye and get ignored or he’d throw a pillow at you.

Instead he laughed, yea, laughed.

“Yea, I’m so glad I get to have a friend like you” he said sarcastically.

You lean in and push a stray hair away from his face “ don’t you mean boyfriend?”

“Maybe” he said giggling

You both leaned in half ways and your lips met. The kissing lasted abnormally long than usual and at one point he pulled you over him and put his arms around your neck.

It was a sweet moment and maybe not so sweet as he’d let his hands wander but not too much.

“Hey Damian, Alfred told me to-“

as predictable as always someone bursted in, but ofc it had to be Tim.

The two of you suddenly decided to follow the “keep your hands to yourself rule” and instantly pushed each other away.

But the damage was already done.

“WHAT THE- yknow what? Already knew it, I’m just surprised anyone would date Damian”

“Get out.” Damian said very much upset

“Okkkk but I just came to tell u Alfred says to come down so…” and with that he left.

Damian let a very loud sigh and rubbed at his temples “hopefully he doesn’t say anything..”

“Would that be such a bad thing..?” You asked this clearly wanting an answer, one that Damian was at a lost to answering.

“No- I just, I’m just nervous on how my family would react, especially father…“

He made a point at not looking at you but once you held his hand he relaxed and nodded.

-

You both came down stairs and made your way to dinner hand in hand.

The warm lighting of the dining hall that contrasted his rooms darkness welcomed you both but the 8 eyes boring into your face wasn’t exactly helping.

you and Damian sat down, well just you, Damian was still standing.

“As you all know me and y/n are dating-“

“What?”

Cue silence

Damian started up again “what do u mean what?“ his eyes narrowing and eyebrows furrowing .

“I meant what I said, what?“

Cass said this raising an eyebrow and leaning back to relax.

“Wait. So Tim didn’t tell everyone me and y/n are dating?”

Everyone whipped their heads towards Tim who was preoccupied with his phone and once he realized and finally looked up his face wore an offended expression. “Nope, we have our ups and downs but I’d never out you” he just shrugged and looked back down at his phone.

“Uh.. ok well that’s the news i guess? Surprise?” He obviously didn’t expect this to happen but I guess it’s better than some outcomes..?

“Thanks for telling us Damian, I’m proud of you” Grayson pitched in and smiled at the two of you.

“Agreed you’re cute together” Steph mentioned leaning on her hand.

“Yea and even if we I kinda knew (he didn’t) but that’s amazing for you guys, seriously” Jason added and everyone else nodded in agreement.

While everyone else pitched in their words of approval, a cough interrupted at the other end of the table.

Bruce

“I’m.. glad you were able to tell us this news but, why didn’t you tell us sooner?”

Wow

Just wow

Damian’s face was literally just looking at everyone else like he was above them.

“Why didn’t we tell you? We would go on dates, hold hands, Kiss???? And you all still didn’t know?? The only one who knew was Alfred”

Cue everyone looking at Alfred and him just nodding.

“He was the only one to acknowledge y/n as my boyfriend” Damian was so flabbergasted it was honestly hilarious.

After awhile and a very serious discussion everyone finally knew you two were together and soon the public did too.

(Either the two of you came out to announce it or it was exposed I don’t make the rules 🤷‍♀️)

——————————————————————————

Here ya go! :)

#gn reader #male reader #fanfic #fluff #fanfic fluff #damian wayne x reader #fluff headcanons #damian wayne #gay #boyfriend #damian wayne x male reader #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne fluff #damian wayne headcanon #older damian wayne #damian wayne al ghul #damian wayne fanfiction #damian robin #robin damian

[strangeshoepatrolbandit]

Brotherly Love P.t 2 J.T

Jason Todd x Al-Ghul/Wayne reader(platonic)

Brotherly Love Masterlist <- right here

Gender Neutral

Summary: Time at your father's has broken apart your relationship with your brother, but what about your adopted brother?

Warnings: insecurity, mentions Scarecrow and his toxin, mentions of murder.

~☆~

You were sitting down in the library, reading one of your favorite books, and sipping the tea you had made just a few minutes beforehand. The ache of being alone had finally disappeared weeks ago, you don't even know if Damian has left the Batcave, you wonder if he too missed how things were before you came here.

A sound of footsteps alerted you before the large library doors opened, it was that man that you had seen talking to Alfred, the guy with the familiar eyes. You watched as he closed the door behind himself, his eyes caught your own as he glanced at you with no readable expression. You kept eyeing him as he passed the couch you were sitting on and headed straight for the bookshelves, he reached a hand up before grabbing onto a worn out book.

He turned around and started heading towards the couch opposite of you, you quickly looked away, staring down at your own book as an attempt to look busy.

As he sits down and opens his book you look up again, trying to figure out why he looks so familiar, and notice the book he has is green, and the spine is falling apart, the title has worn away probably from how old the book was.

"Y'know it's rude to stare." The mysterious man across from you commented, snapping you out of your daze making you look back up at his face that was now facing you.

"Who are you?" You questioned, still confused about what looks so familiar about him, the man across from you chuckles, and his face breaks out into a smile confusing you even more.

"Straight to the point huh?" He he chuckled out again, "well I could ask you the same, you came here with that brat didnt you?". You wanted to snap back, defend your brother from this random man that seemingly knew him.

"Yeah...I did" you mumbled out looking back down at your very own book. The change in attitude seemingly left the man a little lost, and not knowing what to do, he shifted a bit and gripped his book a little tighter. His lips pursed and his eyes darted to things around him as he sat in the awkward aura that had taken over the enormous room, his eyes once again looked at you as he thought about what to say to lighten the mood back up.

"My names Jason." He introduced finally answering the question you asked him, his eyes softened and the corners of his lips slightly rose when you looked back at him.

"(Y/N)." You responded, your brain was scouring for anything that could pinpoint why you think you know him, but sadly, no knowledge of 'Jason' had come up.

"Yeah, you're the old man's kid." He stated, somehow knowing you, just like he knew Damian, seriously who was this guy? He must have sensed your confusion because he answered your question immediately.

"Bruce took me in when I was a kid, and I have some history with Talia."......was this guy in your head or something what is going on?

"The library was my favorite place when I first moved in." Jason spoke, talking to himself as he looked back down at the book in his hands.

"Mine too." You mumbled....

~☆~

The two of you sat there until Jason had gotten about halfway through his book, he had then run down to the Batcave and you hadn't seen him since, when you asked Alfred he told you that Jason had come by to talk and to borrow something from Bruce. Later that night after dinner you ran to catch up with Bruce before he got to the Batcave, hoping to get answers to some questions.

"Bruce!" You called out, not really on the term 'father' yet like Damian is. Bruce stopped walking and turned to look at you, waiting for you to catch up to him.

"What is it, Y/N?" He questioned once you finally reached his side, after putting out his arm for you to hold on to he started walking again.

"Is Jason another one of your adoptees?" You questioned, your head turned up to look at Bruce who was looking back down at you with his eyebrows raised.

"Well yes he is, my second....why?" He answered, curious as to why you would bring up Jason.

"Well he came by today." Your statement took the older man by surprise, Bruce hadn't even known Jason had been at the Manor, after their most recent fight that caused Bruce to explode and say some things he didn't mean Jason had cut off his communication with the rest of the family. Surely this visit meant that he's ready to speak again, hope filled Bruce, maybe Jason would forgive him so that he can have his son back again.

~☆~

Before you knew it you and Bruce reached the Batcave, and he looked down at you yet again, eyes holding nothing but love, offering a small smile he hesitantly let go of you. As you turned around to leave, Bruce had stopped you to ask

"Do you know what he came for?". You shifted your body to face the taller man yet again, this time his eyes were holding a look of sadness, begging you to say that he came for his father.

...

"He came to get something from you, then he sat in the library and read with me." You answered, before staring your journey back to the kitchen to help Alfred with dishes.

~☆~

Bruce finally had time away from Wayne enterprises, and Dick was going to be in town for the next week because of a case, seeing an opportunity, Alfred had put together a dinner and invited Tim and Dick. Which lead you to where you are now, sitting next to Dick and Tim, Dick was talking to Damian whilst Tim was talking to Bruce about business at Wayne enterprises.

Conversations were cut short when Alfred had come out with all of the food, everyone had collected what they wanted and started completely new conversations with other people at the table, except for you, you just sat there staring at the food you were eating.

A knock at the door caused everyone to stop their conversations yet again, curiosity got the best of everyone as they turned to look at the entryway of the dining room once two voices were heard.

...

"Master Jason is here." Alfred announced, as he walked into the dining room, and just like he said Jason was there right behind him. The scarred man had taken a seat across from you, where a plate was already sat waiting for him to fill up, you and Damian had gone back to eating, unbothered by the awkward aura surrounding the other men at the table.

Dick was the first to speak, mumbling a "Hey Jason" served with a half smile, The man across from you just glanced up at him and muttered out a "Dick." in acknowledgement, after that the rest of the men around the table started eating again, continuing their conversations from earlier, leaving you to sit there and silently eat your food.

A foot nudging your leg from under the table got your attention, your head shot up to look at Jason who was staring at you with his eyebrows knit together, his face showed a look that silently asked 'are you okay', offering him back a slight nod you went back to eating.

~☆~

Bruce had cleared his throat therefore making everyone at the table look at him, he set down his utensils and brought his hands together to sit under his chin, before looking at you and Damian.

"I spoke to Talia, and we both think it's best if I enroll the two of you into school." He revealed, as if he was just a normal single father, and he looked at each of your faces to catch your expressions.

"We are far to intelligent for schooling with a buch on simpletons." Damian exclaimed, seemingly annoyed that Bruce would even think about putting him in a room of regular kids.

"I know that Damian, but we just think it will do the both of you good." Bruce sighed trying to get Damian on board with the idea.

"But-" Damian started before you interrupted him, "Mother is not coming back anytime soon, is she?" You questioned, school would only mean that you and Damian would be staying here longer than anticipated.

"No Y/N, she's not" the older man muttered out, and went back to his food as an attempt to end the conversation at that.

(Trust me I know Talia talking to Bruce and being like "yeah put our kids in school whilst I hunt Deathstroke" is a little weird but I have a vision.)

~☆~

After dinner Bruce, Dick, Tim, and Damian had all retreated to the batcave, and Jason had just up and disappeared. Alfred had already came and picked up all of the plates from the table you were still sitting at, your head was hung as you stared at your hands in your lap.

Everyone had willingly left you, they had all got up and left you, that wasn't fair. Why does Damian get all of their attention, why is Damian more liked than you, is it because he has proven himself worthy since he is Robin, is it just because he is more bearable to be around? Talia may have not been the best mother but oh how you wish she was here for you right now, maybe she would understand how you feel, maybe she would spend time with you, even if it was just training. Bruce had been okay at first but as time went on and Damian proved himself worthy Bruce had become distant, spending more time with Damian-

"Hey-."

Your body snapped up and your instincts kicked in as you were pulled out of your thoughts, the hand that was just placed on your shoulder was now behind the back of the body you had bent over the table.

"Jesus, calm down!" The person yelled, as you looked down at the body you identified as Jason, letting go of his hands you backed away from the table, Jason straightened his back as he turned to look at you, slowly he brung both of his hands up to hover around his head in a way to show that he means no harm.

"Calm down will ya." He whispered out, gesturing to your rapid breathing, he slowly brung down one of his hands and reached it out towards you only for you to move away from him yet again.

"I'm fine." You muttered out, looking down at your feet, and trying to steady your breathing. Jason lowered his arms back to his sides and waited for your breathing to regulate before speaking again.

When your breathing finally went back to normal you looked up at Jason who was just staring at you, a smile broke out on his face and you could see that he was trying to hide a laugh. Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to guess what he wanted to laugh at, the look you gave him only caused his laughter to finally break out. Once Jason's laughter died down he moved towards you and raised an arm to put around your shoulders.

"Come on." Was all he said as he pushed you out of the dining room.

~☆~

Your enture body was stiff as Jason lead you around the Manor, his arm still residing around your shoulders. The two of you walked down the long hallways, no conversation being made, just admiring the art along the walls. There were various paintings hanging, some sporting random people you've never seen, others looked like younger variations of Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Tim. You wondered if Bruce would sit you and Damian down to get yourselves painted, Ra's himself had had a couple commissioned of the two of you, but never hung them.

Jason guided you down another hallway, you could feel the warmth from his skin seeping in through your clothes, his arm was heavy, a resuring weight, a reminder that he was still there right beside you. He brought a feeling that you had never felt, maybe it was the fact that you have never been held except by Damian, who's embrace lacked comfort and love, maybe because he himself never experienced that.

You could smell the cologne that he sprayed before visiting, that traditional man smell was on him but the more you focused you could tell that he smelled like Tobacco, Gunpowder, leather, and something earthy, hints of something sweet hit your nose as you continued to breathe, like he had been in a bakery.

~☆~

Jason and You had come to a halt in front of a pair of doors, doors that you're highly familiar with, doors to the library to be in fact. Jason took his arms off of your shoulders to push open one of the doors open, gesturing for you to go first and himself after. Jason walked past you, seemingly heading for the couches in the middle of the room but he soon passed them too, ending up in front of one of the many bookshelves, the very one he stood in front of when the pair of you read in here the other day. Speaking of the other day Jason was now grasping the same exact book that he had the other day, old, green, and missing its title. Jason scoured through the book, seemingly reminiscing, you watched as Jason straightened his back, closing the book and looking directly infront of himself, before looking back at the book one last time. Jason turned around face you, his legs moving towards you, book still in hand, his eyes kept moving from the book and the floor.

"Here, I noticed what you were reading the other day." He stated holding the book out to you with a smile on his face, trying to hint that you would like this book as well.

"What is it?" You questioned, curious as to what the book in fact was, before taking it in your hands and tracing along the cracked spine. One of Jason's arms went to rub the back of his neck, and his eyebrows knit together as if trying to find the answer to your question.

"To be honest, I don't know, book was here way before me." The man infront of you confessed, Jason let out a chuckle before heading towards the door again, opening it and gesturing for you to step out.

"Where are we going?" You questioned him again, first he led you all the way to the library without telling you where you'd be going, now he's trying to get you to go somewhere else.

"The cave." Was all he muttered.

~☆~

Everyone was already in their suits, crowding around the office chair infront of the computer's, you and Jason stood behind all of the boys with curious looks on your faces.

"What is it this time." Jason asked breaking the silence that hung around the room, Damian turned to look at him, if looks could kill, Jason Todd would be a dead man again.

"Homicide." Bruce answered first, never once taking his eyes off the screen. From the looks of it, he was looking at the filed police report.

"Wow, surprise, it's Gotham." You remarked, Jason turned to look at you with a hidden smile on his face, your own face mirroring his after you made eye contact. Damian turned to look at you, offering the same look he gave to jason seconds before. Dick stood up straight and rested his elbow on your head. Quickly, he looked down at you, then Jason, then back to you.

"Not all of the murders in Gotham stem from Scarecrows gas." Dick informed."The infected committed the crime this time." He finished, Jason moved from beside you, heading for the entry from the batcave and back to the Manor, you pulled Dicks arm off of your head and went to follow Jason back up.

Once back up Jason headed straight towards the front door, and fled down the front steps of the Manor.

"Jason, wait!" You called out to him as he hopped onto a motorcycle.

"What?" He asked, putting on a helmet.

"Where are you going?" You questioned him

"work." Was all he said before revving up his motorcycle and speeding off.

...

You stared down at the book in your hands, tracing the faults on the cover with your fingers, honestly in a family of vigilantes you should've known that he's one too.....

~☆~

....

I got so much support on p.t 1 of this and that makes me so happy, I hope you enjoyed this part as well. I don't know when it will be uploaded, but I am going to write another part. <33

(Pt.3 is out now)

Taglist: @sanjanapm @unofficial-jaytodd-wife

@texaschainslvt

@godknows-shetried

@wendds

@celestair

@lorosette

@knoxx-seresinbradshaw

@agent-nobody-knows

@5sos-wdw

#x reader #batman #bruce wayne #batboys #batbros #batfam x batsis #batsiblings #damian al ghul #damian wayne x reader #dick grayson x reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd #jason todd fanfic #damian wayne x batsis #batboys x batsis #bat family #tim drake x reader

[justsomerandom-nerd]

Alfred taught Bruce how to drive and it was the worst experience of his life. He had less of a heart attack when Bruce decided to fight crime dressed like a furry.

Bruce tried to teach Dick but backed out after the car ended up wrapped around a tree. Dick was only fourteen but come on Bruce, you let me fight crime on a school night but you won’t teach me how to drive.

Alfred picked up the slack and within a couple weeks, Dick was a better driver than half of Gotham. There are no traffic laws in Gotham, so it’s not hard, per se.

Jason had the best understanding of how a car worked. He could barely reach the brake, but he could Hotwire a car in ten seconds flat and Alfred didn’t ask questions. Still, he needed hours to get his license, and Bruce wouldn’t just sign the form. (No Jason, driving the Batmobile doesn’t count.) He didn’t really need any guidance, he never so much as blew a stop light, and it was really just an excuse for them to talk. Jason died before he was old enough to get his license, but he had more than enough hours. Alfred has the log, crumpled and faded, stuffed in a box under his bed, signed, alongside Jason’s forgotten drivers permit. It’s got a little heart on it, he was a donor.

Tim learned to drive from Jack Drake, and Alfred almost regrets not getting to teach him. It was something he wanted to bond with him over. But then Tim goes to Alfred, sheepishly, can you teach me to drive standard? It only takes a couple sessions, and Alfred has a heart attack when they roll backwards, but they get a laugh out of it after. Tim’s not half bad at it, after all.

Steph is no protege. She never has been. Her mom is too shakey to drive, still recovering, and her dad, well it’s hard to teach a kid to drive from blackgate. She won’t ask Tim, he’s only fifteen, and Bruce she despises. But she needs hours and she needs someone to sign her log. Alfred agrees, a little hesitant, but hey, she needs help. It’s the first chance he gets to know her. They make a sudden stop, and her arm curls around her stomach, scared for a child that hasn’t been born. At some point she says, some days I have to stop myself from buying a car seat. I know if I did, I wouldn’t be able to let go.

Cass comes next, and it’s not like she’s never driven before. She’s just never driven with rules before. She blows past stop signs with shakey apologies, but he never yells. It takes her a couple days to get used to not driving like she’s in a high speed chase, and when she does, it’s so relaxing. She drives Alfred around Gotham on errands and they go out to lunch, and even when she has her license they make it a thing. She’s his only granddaughter after all, why shouldn’t they?

Duke isn’t half bad. Alfred shows him the ropes, and he’s a little more nervous than the others. Duke makes less mistakes, and finally, he relaxes. He points out places around Gotham he knows from being a kid living in the city, and Alfred hears how lovingly he speaks about it. They drive a lot at night since Duke patrols during the day, and Gotham at night is a very different story. It’s more alive. And Duke knows the streets like the back of his hand, because it’s his city. He belongs there, just as much as he belongs with the rest of the Waynes.

Damian is a difficult story. He’s known how to drive since he was a literal child, so he’s understandably pissed when Bruce still makes him get practice hours off the vigilante clock. Dick is conveniently stuck in Bludhaven, and Damian simply wants to get it done as soon as possible. Alfred is his second choice, the only person he can think of spending forty unbearable hours driving with. It’s quite pleasant, Alfred lets him pick the music and they bond over a love of classical music. Alfred’s errands take excruciatingly long but after, they grab lunch, and oh why don’t we stop and see the knew exhibit at the Gotham Art Museum. Damian spends hours ranting about his siblings and Bruce, and Alfred tells him stories of how insufferable Bruce was as a child.

(I just think it’d be funny if Bruce was like, I know you could drive at 11 but you should probably get your required hours in out of costume, but I’m busy and you’re grandpa wants to spend time with you)

#dc #dc comics #batman #batfamily #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #tim drake #red robin #stephanie brown #spoiler dc #batfam #dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #cassandra cain #black bat #batgirl #duke thomas #signal dc #dc robin #robin #damian wayne #Alfred just uses it as a bonding experience

[rapz-rites]

Oh Baby Pt 2

Can Reader fix the situation caused by misunderstanding and miscommunication 

A/N: Sorry this took so long, but it’s done. Enjoy 😉

Word Count: 1.7k+

Warnings: cursing, misunderstanding, hurt feelings

Part 1

“So she's cheating on me?” Anyone could hear the pain in his voice, even Jon did. 

Jon suddenly let go of you, and turned to look at Damian. He could see the pain written all over his face. Even though mind reading wasn’t a Kryptonian power, he knew what he was thinking: that you were cheating on him with him. 

You were confused. You moved over to see what Jon was looking at. That's when you saw Damian with his brothers. Now he was looking at you.

“Oh no.”

~

You could tell what he was thinking. 

‘My girlfriend and best friend went behind my back’

Gosh you so stupid. How could you have missed this. 

You started walking towards him. But after your first step, he turned and walked away. Your heart broke knowing that this was just a misunderstanding from a lack of communication.

“I think you should give him some space,” Dick said, stepping in front of you. He was blocking you so you wouldn’t see which way Damian was headed. Stupid 6 foot tall man. 

“No. I have to talk to him.” You went to move around him but he blocked your way again. He gave you a look; leave him alone for now.  

“Fine.” You said dropping your shoulders in defeat. You walk towards your car and get in. 

“So what are you going to do now?” Asked Jon. 

“I’m going to the manor to talk to Damian.” You were determined to talk to him. Though you planned on telling him everything, he has to know now. 

You dropped Layla home then headed to the manor. 

“Do you think they’ll let us in?”

Why was he asking such a ridiculous question? It didn’t matter to you if they let you in or not. You were going to talk to Damian whether he liked it or not. 

On your way to the manor, you had Jon drive as you wrote a short letter to Damian explaining everything. You put the letter in an envelope with sonogram pictures. Once you sealed the letter you put it in the brown bag with the muffins.  

Reaching the manor, you and Jon walk up the stairs to the door. You knock waiting for some to answer. 

“Hello Miss Y/N” says Alfred as he answers the door. “Master Damian is currently not taking any visitors.” 

You can tell he’s trying to be polite. Damian probably told him not to let you in. 

“It’s ok Alfred. I just have to drop something off,” you say stepping the manor. 

“Anyways I know there’s no stopping you. Also, congratulations. You’ll be great.”

“Thank you Alfie- ” You turned to look at Jon. 

“I swear it wasn’t me” Jon puts his hands up in surrender. 

“I can assure you the Kent boy didn’t tell me anything. It’s a common saying that expecting mothers glow, and you, Miss Y/N, are glowing.” You smile at the butler and make your way to Damian, bag in hand. 

Jon said he was going to try and talk to Damian’s brothers. Try to smooth things out. You wished him luck; he was going to need tons of it.

Stopping in front of his bedroom door, you knock. After a moment you don’t hear anything. As you’re about to knock again the door opens. 

It’s your boyfriend. He changed from his casual clothes to his lounge/sleepwear. He looks tired, like he was just sleeping. You can tell from his messy hair and his eyes, cold and lifeless. The first time you woke up from a nap with Damian, you were put off how dead his eyes were when he woke up.

“What do you want?” He says after giving you a once over. Suddenly all your confidence disappeared from your body. 

“I wanted to talk to you, and I got you something.” You say shyly. It’s like you were a schoolgirl talking to her crush for the first time.

He opened the door wider to let you in. He took the bag you handed him without looking at it. 

As he walked to his bed he dropped the bag on his desk without a second thought. He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at you blankly. 

“What did you want to talk about?” He said coldly. He’s never talked to you like this before. No emotion, nothing. He wasn’t even looking at you, he was looking at the floor.  

You knelt down before him. He still didn’t make eye contact with you.

“About earlier- ” you couldn’t even start before Damian stopped you. 

“Don’t bother,” he said blandly. 

You put your hands on his cheeks, forcing you to look at him.

“Please believe me. I could never love Jon the way I love you. Please.” You were practically begging at this point. He held your wrist. Pulling your wrists away from him, he looked you in your eyes.

“Please go.” You could tell he meant it, wanted it. With that you left and headed home. Even though you told Jon not to, he still followed you home to make sure you were okay.

~

Later that night, everyone was unwinding after patrol. Surprisingly, Bruce let everyone off early. Everyone had changed into casual or lounge clothing, but stayed in the Cave. 

“Master Damian, this is for you. I believe it's the muffins from that cafe you like so much,” Alfred said, handing Damian the paper bag ()on a platter of course.

“I don't want it.” Damian didn't even look at the bag. He continued “If it’s from Y/N i don't want anything to do with it.”

Damn.

“Can I have them?” Jason asked. Damian didn’t care, so he just let Jason have it. 

As Jason was opening the bag he noticed the envelope. 

“Hey Demon Spawn. There’s a letter for you.”

“Throw it away. I don’t care.”

Unfortunately for Damian, Jason doesn’t listen to him majority of the time. Jason opened the letter and read its contents. After looking over it, he mentally debated how he would go about it. He could (1) make a small scene like “Hey Bruce, you’re about to be a grandpa, and not by the man slut Dick” or “The Demon Spawn is going to have demon spawns. So would they be demon spawn^2?” or (2) shove the letter in Damian’s face and force him to read it. Knowing how Damian felt he went with option 3, putting the ultrasound in his face because he would ignore the letter. 

As soon as Damian processed the ultrasound in front of him, he grabbed the letter and rushed out of the Cave. 

“What’s up with him?” Tim questioned. 

“You’ll find out soon enough” Jason responded with a smirk. He turned his head to see a tired Tim. “Damn man, you look like shit, go to bed.”

“Whatever,” Tim rolled his eyes. He knew Jason was right, but he wanted to finish what he was doing before turning in.

~

Damian was knocking on your door. He hoped you were awake. He couldn’t believe the mistake he had made, not listening to you. It was his mother and grandfather. 

‘Always expect betrayal. Trust none’ they would say to him. Even though his father and siblings taught him to have faith in people deep down he still had his grandfather's teachings engraved in him. 

Damian wasn’t surprised when he saw Jon open the door. On his way over, he quickly read the letter you wrote. You explained everything to him, from finding out about your pregnancy to Jon and Layla helping you plan how you were going to tell him. Before Jon could even get a word out, Damian spoke up.

“I apologize. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions before getting all my facts. I should’ve known that you or Y/N would never betray me like that.”

Jon was shocked to say the least. Jon smiled at his best friend and pulled him into a hug. Damian didn't entirely reject or reciprocate the hug, he just wanted to get to you.

“Go to her. He needs you more than ever now” Jon said before leaving your place.

Damian made his way inside your apartment until he reached your bedroom door. It was halfway open, but he still knocked.

“Come in,” you said. You knew it was Damian. You had a feeling it was him when you heard the door. Damian entered your room. He was a bit awkward, but that was expected. As you opened your mouth, Damian spoke before you.

“I'm sorry, Beloved. I’m so sorry. I know there’s no excuse for my behavior, but I hope you can forgive me because I want to be there for you and the baby.” Damian was kneeling holding your hands, practically begging at this point. 

You don’t when your eyes start tearing up, but next thing you knew a tear was running down your cheek.

“Did I make you cry? Please don’t cry. I'll do anything to make it up to you, I promise.”

“I forgive you, you big dummy” you said pulling Damian up into a hug. You didn’t realize until after a few moments that you pulled him down onto your bed. You both moved to get into a more comfortable cuddling position.

“I’m sorry I didn't tell you sooner,” you started. “I just needed time to myself to get my thoughts and feelings together.”

“That’s understandable,” said Damian. He was rubbing circles on your lower back. You were slowly drifted off to sleep. The events of today drained you.

“Bruce is going to flip when we tell him, isn't he?” you chuckled. 

“Most likely. At least my mother will most likely be pleased that we ‘sired’ an heir” he says back.

You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle. 

“Please don’t tell me she's going to try and have the baby climb a mountain at age 5, or swim from coast to coast when they're born?”

Damian couldn’t help but laugh. He didn’t want to correct you, but the first time he attempted to climb a mountain he was 4, but successfully accomplished it on his second try.

“I'll see what I can do. Maybe she can wait until they’re 10” you lightly slapped his chest.

After a few moments, Damian notices your heart rate and breathing slowed down, indicating you were asleep.

“I will love you and the baby, always and forever. Even in my death, you two will be the most important people to me.” Damian kisses the top of your head before falling asleep.

I am done. This took a while but I finished it. 😁

Should I make short blurbs for this series. I was thinking of blurbs for after, not necessarily new parts but little sequels. Like a blurb of the reader giving birth and one of the babies first everything. Like that. If you’re into it lmk and I’ll do it

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #damian wayne x female reader #damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne x you #damian al ghul #damian al ghul wayne #damian al ghul x reader #Damian Al ghul x female reader #requests #dc universe #batfam x reader

[anonymooseforever007]

Ring Around the Roses

(Alfie Solomons x female reader)

Summary: Attempting to get away from the Shelby party chaos, Alfie and his wife sneak off into Tommy's garden for a little fun. It isn't until the next morning they discover the consequences of their actions and Alfie has to remind his wife what their marriage is really about.

A/N-Hi Y'all! Possible TW's for only the end of this include Mentions of death, Unhealthy coping habits and self blame! Also this is for K's (@runnning-outof-time) 3K celebration! Congratulations you're amazing and I love seeing you on here❤️❤️❤️ I hope you like this! I haven't done a celebration before really but I saw your theme and the idea spring into my head. Despite the warnings it's mostly fluffy until the time skip! Also there's one part that implies smut but none actually written! Enjoy ❤️

WC- 6.6k

Main Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Are you sure we can do this out here?"

"Do what dovey? I'm just taking a nice little stroll with my darling wife aren't I? Letting her get a quiet break from all those heathens inside."

You scoffed, knocking into your husband's side gently as the pair of you walked through the garden. For a man who seemed particularly fond of dark colours, Thomas Shelby's garden was particularly vibrant. 

"Oh hush, you only call them heathens because you're too scared to use the word friend."

"FRIEND!" Alfie scoffed while kicking at a particularly beautifully tulip that just happened to be nearby, just to prove his point. "No no no Dovey, THEY are not my friends, yeah. If I were to pick anyone to be my friend it certainly would not be ANY of them." 

You only rolled your eyes and shot a knowing smirk in his direction. For all your husband's spite and trickery, you knew he really did have a soft spot for the Shelby family.

"Alright love, I believe ya. That's absolutely why you immediately declined the invitation to come here tonight isn't it. Burned it in the fireplace correct? Told me not to put it in the calendar? Because you don't have plans at being anything other than vicious enemies is that right? The pie I brought tonight was a death threat wasn't it? Did you slip in some arsenic into the powdered sugar?"

Rolling his eyes at your teasing, Alfie couldn't help but smile as he watched you laugh at your own joke. Continuing your path through the garden you mindlessly reached back a hand for your husband a few steps behind. A clear indication of what you wanted. What you always wanted. Slipping his hand between yours, he let you drag him through the bushes, further from the party. With each step he could see you relax a bit more, as you enjoyed the scene around you.

"Is it quieter out here Dovey?"

Smiling softly, you only nodded your head before reaching out gently to touch the leaves of a nearby bush. Though the party was fun, it had gotten a bit loud and in the growing chaos you needed some air. So while Tommy and Polly were distracted trying to convince Arthur and Finn not to throw Michael in the lake, you and your husband had slipped outside. 

"Alfie, we should plant a garden of our own I think."

"Is that right Dovey? Does my lady want some bushes of her own to trim doesn't she?"

"I think we could get some nice rose bushes. I've always loved those."

"Roses, is that it? You got a feeling about those prickly little parasites don't ya Dovey? I never got why you liked them."

Chuckling you sat on the edge of a nearby wall as your husband dug his feet in the ground. You knew exactly why Alfred hated roses, and it still amused you to this day. 

It happened years ago, around the time you'd first gotten together. This was before Alfie was even able to grow a beard, and all his kisses resulted in a scratchy scruff that prickled your face. Way back when boxing was still his main pastime instead of "baking", both kinds actually and these days your husband finally knew how to make a decent muffin. In an effort to be romantic, he'd shown up at your work one day with a nice bouquet of roses. They were lovely flowers and you were immensely elated by the gesture, and especially amused since he'd bought the flowers from that very shop only the day before too.... However it was a shame you never got the chance to put them in water. See, somewhere between the ten steps it took to get from the door to your table, he had tripped and fallen flat on the ground. Don't worry, his face hadn't hit the hard ground, it was cushioned....by the thorny roses. Maybe it was a good thing the thorns had left so many bloody scratches. It meant you weren't able to tell his face had turned as red as the roses petals now surrounding him. Instead of the romantic date he wanted to take you on, the evening was spent with you dapping the cuts on his face with a damp cloth while he started at the wall, contemplating every life choice he'd ever made. That was the night Alfred Solomons decided he'd never trust a rose ever again. Not even the ones his darling wife sought to plant in her gardens.

"Alfie, come on! Roses aren't that bad, just because you had a little slip up years ago doesn't mean they all hate you."

Standing by up again, you held out your arms towards Alfie as music began to reach the garden. Shaking his head lightly, he set down his cane and took your arms, fully confident you'd be there to support him if his hip got too bad. You and Alfie had yet to dance tonight, caught up talking with others (which was really just your doing) and pointing out everyone who'd gotten too drunk and was trying piss in the plants. It wasn't something either of your minded to badly, the large crowds of people tended to make you feel a bit nervous and Alfie occasionally had a hard time keeping rhythm because of his hip. So most of your dancing was done in the back corners of the ballroom or privately in your kitchen, waiting for the midnight snacks to be done. 

However tonight, it seems you'd be dancing in Thomas Shelby's garden. Slowly but happily, you waltzed closely with your husband, stepping around the fountain and laughing as he stopped to twirl you ever few seconds. Other than the music from the house and the gentle crunches  of your shoes beneath the gravel path, the world was silent. When the song ended your husband gave you a gentle kiss and stepped back, though he was still holding you in his arms. Looking up above yourselves, you saw the constellations fitting the night sky.

"Ohh Alfie! Look at them! Aren't they beautiful?"

Beaming, you grinned up at the stars twinkling down on you before moving from your husband to a smaller empty plot of ground. You suspected that something was to be planted there soon, but paid no mind to the grime that would get on your skirt as you settled down to sit in the dirt. It was a nice little spot, right next to the rocky path and dug out in a manner that was lined on three sides by tall hedges. To anyone looking out if the mansion, the little alcove would have been completely invisible. 

"What are ya doing now Dovey? Is this the thing you said we shouldn't be doing?" Alfie teased you from where he was still standing.

"I just wanna sit and watch the stars for a bit. Come," remaining seated you patted the spot next to you, "Join me."

Alfie walked over to the spot but when he got there, he only raised an eyebrow at you and tapped his hip with the cane. You stared for a moment and then it clicked. Laughing slightly at your forgetfulness, you stood up, bowing dramatically, and held out your arm. 

"Right right, I forget you have the hip of an overworked, ninety seven year old parlor dancer. Shall I assist you to the ground my dear sir?"

Alfie only grumbled, but his eyes twinkled as you teased him. If anyone else had made the comment they'd have been dead before they blinked, but you were different. Alfred Solomons was capable of many things, but some nights when his hip got bad, he needed help moving around more, especially if it meant going from standing to sitting on the ground. You were happy to help of course, but being married for over a decade didn't mean the pair of you were above lightly poking fun of the other. Only two years ago, you had accidentally scratched part of your eye and needed to wear an eyepatch for five weeks. The first thing Alfie had done when you walked out of the examination room and asked if he could get food for dinner, was reply with "does patchy wanted a cracker" in reference to the one eyed parrot you'd seen in a film the month before. It was just something you'd always done together even before you started dating. A dark humor you both shared, as if joking about the hurt could make it better. 

Holding his other arm, you gently helped your husband lower himself to the ground, squeezing his hand comfortingly when he let out a small groan. After helping your husband take a seat, you settled into your own again, leaning your head on his shoulder as you looked to the heavens. 

"You aren't really gonna plant roses are ya Love? What if something happens to them?"

"Like what? You assault them with your face again?"

"....Maybe? But like why do you really enjoy them? I still don't see the charm."

Sighing, you shifted your gaze and looked your husband in the eyes.  One of your hands moved up to his face, as you gently caresses the one spot on his face that refused to grow hair like the rest of his beard. You knew it was another old war wound, but this was actually one he had yet to tell you the story of. Gazing into his eyes a few moments more, you then changed positions so you were seated across his lap, one leg in either side of his.

"Why do I love roses?....Their petals are as soft as their thorns are sharp and given the right hand, their climb up any wall in their path. Not only that but their petals can have many uses for food or paint or even my blush. That means they are able to change their usefulness based off their situation at hand. They are able to adapt, nor are the helpless. Some people say the point of the thorns is to choke out anything else threatening to take the roses' livelihood." you gently held your husbands face between your hands as you continued, "I like roses because they remind me of you Alfie. Because they are beautiful, and strong, and dangerous. You are a gorgeous and strong man, and I know how badly you try to protect me every day. You are so kind to me, but I know how far you'll go for me. I would go just as far for you. You are my rose Alfred Solomons and so I love them as all they remind me of you."

Alfie was quiet for a moment, observing what you'd said. His hands sat on your waist, thumbs rubbing gently in your sides. 

"You saying I'm like a fucking flower Dovey, is that it?"

"Yeah, you're my flower though."

"....Alright."

"....You know why else you're like a rose love?"

"Why poppet?"

"Because it can be a pain in the ass to keep you alive sometimes."

Alfie only put his hand to his chest in mock offense, while your grinned up at him mischievously.

"Oi, now you better watch your words there Dovey."

"Make me Rosie," you whispered, grinning as your leaned closer to your husbands face, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw.

Gently Alfie leaned back, taking you with him until his back was on the ground. Hands, still on his face, you could feel the smile on his face. Slowly one of his hands moved to your head bringing you down so he could kiss you again. Sweet at first but it quickly increased in passion and vigor. Though eventually you had to pull back for breath, and it was then you realized his hands had already rearranged your skirts in a way overnight you both.

"Alfred? I know we can't do this out here?"

Your husband only laughed, reaching towards his belt as he pulled you close again.

"Slide down a bit farther and I think you'll see we definitely can Dovey. It's only a matter of being quiet enough to evade capture."

It was a nice little spot, right next to the rocky path and dug out in a manner that was lined on three sides by tall hedges. To anyone looking out if the mansion, the little alcove would have been completely invisible. And luckily, the music was loud enough to hide the sounds of rustling bushes...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't until the next morning when you realized what went wrong...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After making it back to the house last night and finding half the dog food "mysteriously missing", the pair of you had decided to call it a night. And since business was going so well Alfie had elected to take a few days off, hoping to spend more time with you. It also meant he'd finally be able to sleep in.....or so he thought.

A sudden crash woke Alfie from his slumber the next morning. 

Shooting up, he automatically looked to his right, and his heart stopped for a moment realizing you weren't there. Another clatter from downstairs and a frustrated scream from you had him practically jumping out of bed and grabbing his gun. You usually like staying in bed for a few more hours, especially when he was there, so the fact he could hear your distress from upstairs made him worry. 

Carefully Alfie snuck down the hall, peaking in rooms to make sure no unsavory figures were lurking behind the door. Another annoyed groan accompanied by various curse words hurried him to his final destination. 

"Love, are you alright?"

It was a stupid thing to ask as you were very much not alright. The kitchen was a mess, looking like every cabinet had been opened and all the contents pulled out. Pots and bass were laud hurriedly across the counters as you rummaged through every nook and cranny. A quickly glance into the living room told Alfie it was scattered in a similar state. But you hadn't responded to your husband, not the first time or even the second. It wasn't until Alfie stepped right up behind you, putting his hand on your shoulder, and turning your around to face him when you responded.

"I can't find it."

Your voice wavered as you admitted the truth. Looking down like a small child about to be told off, you averted your face from your husband's. Alfie was still confused, but he could tell whatever you were rallying about was obviously important.

"Can't find what Dovey? Whatever it is it's probably isn't too bad. I can help ya find it righty?"

"No Alfie you don't undertstand."

"Then help me understand Love. Let's get through this together like we always have yeah? Come on, tell your husband what we're looking for." Carefully cupping your face in his hands, Alfie guided you to look at him again. He could see the tears welling in your eyes as you spoke.

"....I.....I lost my wedding ring Alfie."

"Oh."

It was the simple oh that broke the dam. Stepping back from your husband, tears began to stream down your face as you shoved your fingers in you hair as if trying to hold in the stress.

"SEE I told you it was terrible. I...I woke up this morning and went to the bathroom and noticed it missing when I went to clean my hands. I figured I'd just taken it off la... last night but it wasn't by the bed table like I usually put it. Then I went through the bathroom and it wasn't there. I've gone through every room in this hours and I can't fucking find it!!! I don't ....I don't know where it is Alfie. I just... oh god." 

Covering you mouth with your hand, you realized where you lost the ring. 

"Alfie the fucking garden."

"The garden? Love you haven't made the garden yet, how could it be there?"

"No, TOMMY'S garden. It has to be there. It fell off last night when we were rolling in the dirt. I've been meaning by to get it resized. Oh fuck this is awful"

Alfie actually chuckled at your realization. Of course the ring would fall off in the most inconvenient place possible, but he wasn't about to tell you that.

"Thats alright Dovey we can just..."

Throwing your hands in the air you interrupted your husband, frustrated at yourself for a number of reasons. It stung Alfie's heart to see you like this. Carefully he dragged your hands from your face and pulled you into a hug. Soothingly his hands ran up and down your back as he tried to comfort you.

"We can just what Alfred? Waltz back over and demand he let us dig up the plants for it? He'd probably ask why and what are we suppose to say then huh Alfred? Oh you know, we lost it in the garden you see...Well what were you doing there Y/N? ...Nothing much just fertilizing the soil, pollinating the flower, playing like the rake and ho, rustling the bushes, sowing seed in the garden, FUCKING IN THE FLOWERBEDS!!!! No we can't do that Alfie we just can't! It's probably gone forever... I'm so sorry."

Alfie was the one to hide his face this time. He knew you were in distress but he was amused by one of your last sentences. You always were good with the innuendos. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he tried to get you to calm down. He knew at this point you weren't so mad about the ring, as just overwhelmed by the lack of success you'd had in finding it.

"Yes love, we can tell him all those things and if he'd got any sort of romantic bone in his tiny, banged up little body he'd offer us shovels to dig if we need them. And if not then I'd wager every deal I'd ever have with his lot is out the fucking window isn't it. We've been married since before the little one of them was teething haven't we? It's not like they don't think we're fucking. Besides it's a decent fucking garden, Tommy should have know what he was doing when he made that little hidey spot didn't he? It'll be fine. And if I find it then I'll get to propose to you all over again won't I? I think if I got one wish left in the word it would be to do that again. Ask if you'd be mine forever and let you know I'll always be there. Love I promise. It's alright Dovey, it's ok. No need to get worked up about it's not such a big deal."

Thought he was trying to help, his last sentence only made things worse. Stepping pack from Alfie you threw your hands up again.

"IT IS OUR MARRIAGE ALFIE! And I've practically lost it like it means nothing at all! How can you say that!"

There it was. The really reason you were so worked up. Not because you'd lost the little ring. It was because somewhere in your mind, over the years you'd been together, you'd gotten the idea that if you didn't have it on your were almost betraying everything you held dear. As if you thought without the ring, all the vows you'd mad together were nil. Alfie couldn't help but laugh at that. He laughed hard too, like you'd told the funniest joke in their world. 

"You think that ring is our marriage?"

Stepping closer again Alfie took your arms and pulled you closer.

"Our marriage is so much more than that fucking ring love," he said, cupping your face between his hands again. "Our marriage is me stealing Ollie's shirt before every lunch date because his is cleaner than mine and wanna look my best for the best, that's you by the way. It's you grinning at me through the glass window at fuck O'clock in then morning when I've taken the dog out for a piss since you thought it'd be funny to lock me out in the cold in my fucking skeevies again. It's me paying a fuck ton of money to the flower shop down the street so you could get a rose every week I was away fighting. It's you spending hours patching me up after I had a bad fight even though blood makes you gag yeah. When you refuse to give me dinner until I give you a kiss and when I won't give you a gift until I've gotten a hug? Sharing a bath after a hard day? That's our marriage. You interrupting my meeting because you're so excited to show me a new book? Me interrupting your book club because I've just gotten back from a business trip? You demanding I come to bed and cuddle up, only to shove me off of you later when you're too hot? Me tightening jars in the pantry so you have to get me to open them? Making fun of each other's injuries, patchy? Don't you see it? You. Me. You. Me. You. Me. WE."

"Alfie..." You couldn't help but smile at your husband's words realizing he was right.

"Dovey, It isn't defined by a thin piece of metal with a tiny fucking stone that I stole off a rich toff at a boxing match one day. Our marriage is YOU and ME and every little moment in between. And I promise it's always gonna be just that. And do you know why that is Treacle?"

Alfie had moved his hands again, now resting them on your hips. Gazing at you lovingly he waited for your answer.

"Why Ally?"

"Because I'm your flower remember? I'm your fucking rose.... and you're fucking my sunshine, Dovey. I have no chance of living without you."

Wrapping your arms around your husband, you buried your face into his neck. Losing the ring you'd worn almost every day for years didn't seem so criminal anymore. 

"Alfred Solomons when did you learn to say something so romantic."

Your husband only chuckled as he step away, grabbing some of the boxes you'd pulled out in your panic. 

"A master never reveals his secrets Dovey. Now come on. Let's clean this up and then we'll go get you a new ring eh? Wouldn't want any gangly miscreant thinking they've got a chance with you would we?"

Looking at the damage you'd done, you couldn't but sigh, maybe it would have been better to wake your husband immediately before diving head first into your expedition. Now you were kicking yourself since you'd just redone all the work you'd don't last week reorganizing every thing.

"I'm not sure the jewellery shop will still be open today by the time we finish Alfred. I'm not even sure we'll be able to finish this in a week with the mess I've made."

Your husband just bonked you lightly with the broom he handed you and nudged you in the direction of the living room.

"That's alright Dovey. Because unless you've got some nefarious little plans I haven't heard of to steal my dog and run off, I don't think either of us is going anywhere anytime soon aren't we?"

You could only smile and kiss him on the cheek.

"I suppose you're right. We've got all the time in the world...."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two years later...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Shelby, I want my dog."

The Shelby in question turned around, eyeing the woman before him. He knew this day would come. Only he expected it to be sooner, a few days, maybe even a week later...but now it was four months. Four months since he....despite his feelings towards the man, Tommy couldn't help but feel slight regrets for what he'd done. Especially seeing the state of her now, standing in his garden.

"He's just gone on a walk with Charlie and Finn. They should be back in an hour or so."

"I'll wait... I see you filled in that empty plot of ground. They're lovely flowers, I don't remember them being there two winters ago."

Tommy averted his gaze to the bushes you were pointing at. Indeed the small alcove where you'd hidden with your husband had been filled. In its place grew a thick rose bush, blooming with life. You smiled, and to anyone else, they might have thought your look truthful. And some of it was, thinking of the happy memories connected there. But Tommy could see deeper than that. Behind the smile he could see the same pain he had when he looked in mirrors. The pain that came from losing the thing you loved most. For as different as you both were, he knew the tactic you played, though the mask you wore was much brighter than his. And for now he decided he could respect that. He could pretend just for a moment, if only to help you. It was the least he could do, seeing as he was the reason you wore it... He was the one to pull the trigger.

"You're right. The gardener put them in almost two years ago, right after the party where Arthur and Finn tossed Michael into the lake. Do you remember that one? I saw you talking to my sister but never saw you leave that night."

A genuine chuckle left your mouth hearing his words. You played with the ring on your left hand. Only two years old and very expensive, but in that moment, it felt like you were wearing another ring again. One that was much older and worn, that you hadn't seen in years. 

"I do. That was certainly a night I'll remember forever. It's a shame you got rid of that little alcove. It was a nice little spot away from the world wasn't it."

Tommy could only nod and take another drag of his cigarette.

"Did Alfie ever tell you about the first and last time he gave me roses in person. I mean, of course he probably didn't and I'll have to tell you sometime, but I think you might find it funny. There's a lot about him I'm sure he hasn't told you. But then again, knowing him there's probably a lot he did..." You trailed off, staring at the flowers a bit longer, remembering that day over a decade ago, not really meaning to tell Tommy that, doing so anyway. After all, no one had heard from you in months, so it made sense to him, that you'd be eager to talk to anyone. Even the man you should hate most in the world.

Silence descended on the pair standing tense in the garden. There was so much to be said, but neither knew where to start. Truthfully, you'd only talked to Tommy a handful of times, but he felt like he'd already known you like his sister. He couldn't help but scoff, thinking of all the times Alfie had gone off on a tangent about you during a meeting. Sometimes, your mention had nothing to do what was being discussed at all, Alfie just liked to brag about the good he had. In the end it was Tommy who spoke up first, the guilt of his past actions finally caving in on him.

"Y/N, I'm sor..."

"Don't. Thomas, I don't want you to say sorry," turning from the vibrant blooms, you faced the capped man. "I don't want you to say sorry, because you know what? I don't blame you. You're completely alright. I'm not mad at you.... It's my fault I suppose. I could have stopped it."

Tommy raised his eyebrow, curious to what you meant, and also concerned. There was something in your eyes that made his stomach turn slightly hearing those words. But he couldn't exactly place why.

"What's that suppose to mean Y/N?"

You only let out a bittersweet laugh and stared out into the garden again, sitting on the edge of a familiar fountain before you revealed the truth.

"It's my fault he's gone I think. I should have known. I should have never left that day and I could have stopped it."

Tommy's brows furrowed as he sat down next to you. 

"What's that mean? You couldn't have known what his plan was? It's not your fault."

Absentmindedly, you picked at the leaves of a nearby bush. Though your voice was even, Tommy could practically see the war inside your head.

"It's how he kissed me when I left that day. I was only going to be gone a few days to visit my friend who was suppose to have her baby soon. Nothing dangerous. But it's the way he kissed me that should have tipped me off. He kissed me the way he did when he got on the damed train, in that damned uniform. He kissed me like he didn't think he'd see me ever again, going to die in the war. And I guess he didn't."

Tommy didn't say anything. He just let you continue. Something in his head told him, he needed to let your speak, he needed to keep you here tonight. If he let you leave today, no one would ever see you again and something in Tommy told him not to let that happen.

"You know I still haven't admitted it to myself just yet... The truth," standing up you began to pace around the fountain, circling the water. "Since I first got the call I haven't picked up the phone anymore, I'm scared of what I'll hear. I haven't opened any letters, because I don't want to see what they'll say. I still haven't even gone home yet. I've been paying for a hotel room by my friend's house and only leaving by when I need more food. I know it not good for me, but it's all I can find I can do. I've been telling myself it's just that. He's gone to the war again and he'll be back in a few months." Though you spoke with a smile as if talking about the weather, it was easy to see the pain in your eyes. You thought denying the truth would make the hurt go away. But it wouldn't, Tommy knew it was only a matter of time before you broke. And like with Cyril, he felt like he was the one who needed to help. So he decided to play along for now, letting you keep your act up. Atleast until he could figure out the best way to fix the mess he still felt he'd made.

"You tell yourself it's the war eh? Do you write him letters."

"Yes, I write him one almost every day. But I haven't sent any. Did you know that I was rarely able to send them to him during the war. Something about his post being secretive, and no one should know where it really was. So I'd just... write a letter everyday and when I got a letter that his squad was resting at a safe camp every few months I'd just send the packet of them.... If I was lucky I'd get one back, but most of the time I just had to wait. I learned a lot about waiting then. I learned it was better to laugh too. Laughing helped me stay sane."

Standing up, Tommy began walking with you as you stepped deeper into the gardens.

"Laughing eh? Well I guess it's better than what I did. Almost drunk myself to the grave and then fucked off in a caravan with my son for a month. Seems you're handling it better than me."

You could only scoff at his response.

"Oh don't worry, there's been plenty of drinks for me too. I'm a happy drunk though, so I guess it helps my plan. After all, as long as I'm laughing, I don't have time to cry. I don't think I'll be able to stop crying the day I begin. So I'm just trying to hold off as long as I can."

"Aren't we all."

Silence fell in the garden again, and the two widowed souls walked back to the house. It was starting to get back and Tommy had noticed Finn's car pull up a few minutes ago. When you reached the back door you were met with a fluffy beast knocking you over as soon he'd caught sight of you. Cyril was happy to have at least one of his masters back. The man taking care of his now treated him well, but he still missed life with his old owners, even if he couldn't express it in words. 

While you reunited with Cyril and applauded Charlie on the tricks he taught the dog, Tommy went to gather some of Cyril's things and have Francis prepare a room for you. Tommy had no clue where you'd take the dog, but seeing as you seemed adamant about staying away from Margret, and apparently didn't despise Tommy (somehow), he thought it made sense to let you stay the night for a bit. And something still told him to convince you to stay even if just for one day.

On his was back down the stairs he noticed something sitting on the table and there was a click in his brain. He remembered the curiosity brought to him that morning during breakfast, and suddenly a lot of odd business meetings made sense. He finally realized who'd messed up the empty dirt patch that night two years ago. Grabbing the object off the table, Tommy headed back to the drawing room. Inside you were still petting your beloved dog, even though Finn had taken Charlie to get ready for bed. 

"Y/N, I went up to grab some of Cyril's things, but I think it may be better for you to spend the night here. It's getting late and I don't think either of us wants the dog getting hurt if you were to crash."

You laughed gently at his words, not caring to ask about the hand behind his back. Not thinking much about his words, you accepted his offer. You knew you should be mad at him, hate him, even what to kill him, but you couldn't. You were too tried to be mad at anyone right now. Besides, it wasn't like you knew where you were going anyway. You just wanted to see your...his dog again. Maybe if you had that little piece left, it would make it easier to move on. It would make it easier to pretend you weren't alone now.

"Alright. I'll stay. But only so Charlie can give Cyril a proper goodbye. I'd hate to tear them apart, it seems they've made close friends."

"They have," Tommy smiled, genuinely happy thinking of how closely his son had bonded with the dog. "Cyril's stuff is in Charlie's room now infact. They've taken such a liking, I can't keep them apart. We can get his stuff tomorrow, but I do have one thing I think you may want now."

You looked towards the Shelby man curious. "What is it?," you questioned.

Silently Tommy extended his hand to give you the object he'd snagged from the table.

It was a single rose... But something was different about it. The stem seemed to have grabbed something buried within the dirt to take along as it began to grow. Twisting and turning all the way out of the dirt, outwards towards the sun, as if offering the shiny object up. An ages old promise from the rose to the sun of an endless truth, never broken even in death...

The rose was offering his sun a ring.

And not just any ring. A wedding ring. Simple and worn, it had been stolen off a rich toff from a boxing match many years ago. It had survived work and war, seen blood and lust, and so many other things. And while the ring didn't define the marriage it represented a promise you thought you'd never see again. But here now, seeing how tightly the rose stem had grown around it, you knew you'd never have to worry about that again. Not even death could stop the love the rose proposed to his sun. Even in death he'd still offer her life.

You couldn't even take the rose from Tommy's hand before you finally broke. Laughing at the irony, Tears streamed down your face as you sunk to your knees, all the pain you'd been bottling up coming out. And thus you sobbed, hard. So hard in fact, it felt like you couldn't breathe. And you sobs were still mixed with laughter of disbelief as a million memories ran through your head, but none as loud as the one of that night and the morning after. 

Two years ago you'd lost that ring. Alfie promised that he'd look multiple times whenever he went back to the house, even if it meant having the meeting in the garden like "a bunch of prissy ladies at a fucking tea party" as he'd called it. And for two years he'd had no luck until now. But today, your rose had finally found the lost ring, even if you'd lost him months ago. 

Setting the rose gently on the table, Tommy sunk to his knees too. Letting you grab onto him, for a shoulder to mourn on. He knew you needed it. For so long you'd shut yourself away, denying the truth and trying to act like it didn't affect you. You wanted to pretend your world wasn't falling apart and now you couldn't any more. He'd been he same way, except he didn't have anyone to help him. He couldn't burden his one year old son with his grief and he knew most of his family still resented Grace to some degree. They hadn't been as destroyed by her passing as he had. He didn't want you to be alone like he had. For as many terrible thing as Tommy had done, he couldn't bring it upon himself to leave you alone now. And so he sat on the floor, holding you in his arms as the cracked dam finally broke. 

That night, until the early hours of the morning, Thomas Shelby sat comforting the wife of the man he'd killed. And he would until she'd fallen asleep, finally worn out from her grieving. In the morning he'd offer breakfast and they'd get to talking about the loves they lost. They were still both hurt and broken and mourning what they'd lost, but they weren't alone now. For two people so different they both knew what the other felt so deeply. Little snippets and stories about happier times, while watching a little boy play with a big dog, laughing as the pair rolled in the grass. And while both still grieved, there was a peace to be found in being with someone who knew how they felt. 

And while they talked, Y/N played with the ring on her finger. It was new and expensive and fit just right. This one was only two years old and didn't have many memories but she loved it just the same. And upstairs by her bed sat another ring, but this one was held tightly by a rose she'd placed in a vase. This was the ring that she loved more, and the one she really wanted to wear, but she couldn't bear to tear it from the rose just yet. She didn't know if she'd ever be able to. Maybe she'd let the rose dry out and preserve it like she use to do someone's at the flower shop when she was young. But for now she's let it live as it was.

Holding on tightly to a promise that not even death could divide...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While all this happened a mailman was headed towards Birmingham with a letter from a dead man, asking about his dog and looking for his wife....

#Alfie Solomons x reader #peaky blinders x reader #alfie solomons imagine #peaky blinders headcanon #peaky blinders #alfie solomons #tales from the flower garden

[josnhoes]

Platonic!Yan batfam with young adult reader. Part 6

[Part 5]

Note: Reader is 18-22 years old. Gn reader. This work is officially given the Sparky verse name for requests sake

Content warning: being treated like a child, being looked down on, obsessions, soft yandere but still a yandere, reader has memory issues and it's ambiguous as to why, delusional batfam, batfam as a whole basically view you as a child younger then Damien despite you being older, dissociation, abduction, drugging, Stockholm syndrome.

Focuses on Alfred

---------

You lost track of time since you came into the care of the batfam. It was...nice. At first it had been stressful, the constant fear of the hit on you had worn on you greatly. But the whole group of vigilantes' support and care had helped. Sure you felt mentally fuzzy a lot, and there were times you were too woozy to do anything; but it didn't matter because they had been there for you. They never judged, they never made demands, they never asked for anything. How could you not get attached?

It'd been so nice not having to worry about bills and rogue attacks...

Eventually it came time the family had decided to let you in on the truth. It had been a shock for you, who knew those fringe conspiracy groups had been right about who Batman was. They welcomed you to the family telling you that it was time you went to your new room above ground. You hesitated, the cave had been your safety when they weren't there. Could it be safe up there too?

Eventually you got brave after they promised you'd be safe. You clutched robi- Damien's hand tightly, your legs shaky like a new born deer as anxiety pools in you. Only for nothing to happen once you reached the top of the stairs. There was no threat, just like they promised! And it was daytime! You couldn't remember the last time you'd *seen* the sun.

Alfred watched you practically drag Damian to the window to look up at the sky from behind the glass. At first he'd been against this whole thing, veiwing you as a victim; yet doing nothing because it made *his* family happy. He spent time with you in the cave while the others were out. His own domino mask and agent A moniker covering who he was. And after a while he got attached too.

He saw the draw you had the more time he spent with you. Even when you were drugged you had a sharp wit and yet you only used that blade on yourself. Why did so many of his family do self-deprecating jokes? Regardless, you were one of *his* now.

He greeted you with a drink and your favorite cookies with a smile and a, "Welcome home young miss." He didn't miss the way you lit up seeing him, he was pleased to see you had gotten attached to him along with the family.

He still took care of everything for you only now you got to come out of your shell finally. To watch you go from a fearful soul that required sedatives to stop from clawing at yourself into the happy and caring person under his care was euphoric. He'd been even more pleased when his youngest grandchild had vehemently been against joining the family's nighttime work.

All of the family had been and Dick who had asked if you ever thought of it had been scolded by Alfred for even putting those ideas in your head. He was not sending another grandchild to fight on the streets. It was hard enough with everyone else.

Everyone bickered over your time and attention, but Alfred being home almost always was proud to say he spent the most time with you. You cooked together...though he watched you closely and never let you near the fire or knives. You had started watching one of his shows with him. You both even had some inside jokes and he felt joy at having someone normal in the family.

That being said, he just like everyone else would not let you leave. He was ready and prepared at all times to subdue you should you find some moment of distrust or flight response. There was no escape, and even if you did manage to escape you'd best hope one of the Bat boys brought you home, because Alfred was far scarier when angry.

#platonic yandere batfam #yandere #platonic yandere #yandere dc

[detectivemarvelingcomics]

Not Your Classic Vigilante [Ch. 14]

Alternate Dimension AU TW: Language, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Mild Body Horror, Gore, Graphic Depictions of Monstrous Attacks, Gun Use, Weapon Use, Past Major Character Death CW: OC Use, See the OC Guide [Here] Genre: Drama, Action, Angst, Light Comedy Pairing: Batfamily & Batsis!Reader, OC x Reader YN Pronouns: Female (She/Her) Word Count: 13.7K

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Notes: I know I KNOWWW SHE'S THICKKKKKKKK it's for my dick grayson lovers what can i say?

Disclaimer: This series is originally by@fandom-meanderer who is a close friend of mine, but she has since fallen out of her Tumblr days and asked me to finish a few series for her, hence why I am now in ownership of the Not Your Classic Vigilante series, I hope I can still live up to her writing as I rewrite this series! (I promise not to change too much, hehe)

2006

“Dad!” You were quick to run down the stairs when you’d heard the door open. Bruce took notice to you as soon as you bounded up to him and the smile on his face was one that always made you happy to see. Alfred walked up next to you, greeting Bruce silently.

“Hello, (Y/N), what were you up to while I was gone?” He asks.

“Well, I finally cleaned my room,” you rocked on your heels.

“Very good.”

“Alfred taught me how to play Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star on the piano.”

“I have to hear that.”

“And I played a little, but that’s it,” you gave him an exaggerated nod and he smiles.

“That’s good, (Y/N),” he smiles. “Now, I have a surprise for you,” he says. Your eyes widened with a childish excitement. Then, from behind him, an older boy steps out.

“Hiya,” he waves. You step back, head ducking down in shyness while you looked up at your dad. “I’m Dick, you must be (Y/N), right?” He steps forward, bending down to meet your eyes. You nodded carefully before running to your dad. You hid behind his leg and he rubs your head gently.

“He’ll be staying with us from now on,” your father explains. “You’re always saying how lonely it is here, right? He’s a bit older than you, but you’ll be spending a lot more time together,” your father urges you to step out and introduce yourself. Dick, still at your level, smiles softly.

“I heard a lot about you, (Y/N),” he says, “and if you’re okay with it, I hope we can become friends,” he reaches out to shake your hand, but you shy further behind your father.

“She’s usually not this shy,” your dad says above you.

“I think we just need to get to know each other more,” Dick responds. He leans over so he can meet your gaze and waves again. You hid your face.

“Alfred will help you get settled in, Dick, let me know if you need help with anything,” your dad says and Dick nods at him before following Alfred upstairs. After a while, Bruce stepped away from you slowly. “(Y/N),” his voice had a stern, but gentle tone.

“Dad…” you matched his tone.

“What’s wrong? You told me you wanted someone to talk to,” he crouches down to your level and you hid your hands behind your back.

“I know…” your voice was quiet.

“So, what’s wrong then?” He asks. It’s true. You’d long been asking for a friend, and while both of your parents would spend time with you, it simply wasn’t enough. Your dad was always busy doing business stuff, some adult things you didn’t understand no matter how many times uncle Lucius tried to explain it to you. And your mom was… well, something. She had to make a living by “borrowing” things, but strangely enough she never gave them back. You really just wanted someone to talk to, someone who you could play with, or someone you could spend time with. Someone your age, someone who didn’t keep secrets.

Your parents acted like you didn’t know, but you knew something was up. There were nights where your dad would leave saying he needed to get groceries and then come home with no groceries. Your mom would leave saying she’s meeting a friend and would come back with a bag full of her latest ‘shopping spree.’ But you knew they were hiding something, and as much as they told you that secrets were bad, they had so many, you had a feeling. So you wanted a friend, someone who was just like you.

And now you had one. But, something about it felt… wrong.

“Nothing,” you shook your head. The boy he brought home, he seemed friendly enough, and you were curious about him. But you couldn’t ignore this strange feeling in your chest. “Where did he come from?”

“Remember that circus you wanted to go to?”

“Mmhmm.”

“He’s from there.”

“Then… where are his parents?” Bruce hesitated.

“They’re off for a while, and they asked me to watch their son for now,” he says.

“They didn’t want to take him with them?”

“No, where they’re going is not meant for kids like you and him,” he explains. “So, for a while, he’ll be staying with us. Why don’t you get to know him, (Y/N)?”

“What if I don’t like him? Will you return him and get a new one?”

“That’s not exactly how this works, (Y/N),” your father laughs. “If you don’t like him at first, you’re going to have to learn how to get along with him somehow,” he says.

“Okay…” you mumbled.

“Why wouldn’t you like him, (Y/N)?”

“I dunno,” you shrugged.

“Exactly, go talk to him, be friendly,” Bruce encourages you.

“Okay,” you nodded your head and Bruce smiles before shaking your shoulder softly.

“Good, I’m going to get cleaned up, why don’t you say ‘Hello’ to Dick on your way up? He’s in the room across from you.”

“I will,” you nodded again and ran up the stairs.

You stopped in front of Dick’s room, the door was open and he was speaking to Alfred, quickly you hid behind the wall, not wanting to get caught by the old man. But it was their conversation that kept you hidden.

“Now, Master Grayson,” Alfred’s voice was stern, you’d only heard him speak like that to your father on occasion and you when you stole sweets. “Miss (Y/N) doesn’t know.”

“Really?”

“This must be kept a secret between you, me, and Master Bruce.” Secret? Well, that’s not fair. You wanted to know too. So much for a friend who didn’t keep secrets. There were so many around you, you were starting to think that you should keep secrets just to be like everyone else.

“And she never suspected?”

“She is only seven, Master Grayson, and not usually here on weekends,” Alfred sighs. “Master Bruce asks that you be careful.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Dick’s voice was quiet. “Does he plan on telling her?”

“When she’s older, yes. When she can understand it.” Does it count as a secret still if they’ll tell you when you’re older? You’ll just have to hurry up and grow up then!

“Sure, I got it.”

But, still, that’s not fair. You wanted to know now. But when you heard Alfred approaching the door, you knew better than to let yourself get scolded for eavesdropping, so you ran to your room and closed the door only slightly, just enough to watch Alfred leave, and once he was gone, you crept across the hallway. Dick was busy placing his items across the room, you peeked in slowly, waiting to see if he’d notice you, and soon enough he did. He raised his hand to wave, but you ducked behind the door frame instead.

“Hi, (Y/N),” he waits for you to approach him.

“Hello,” you said quietly.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Did you… want to come in?” He asks. You shook your head and he nods with a tight lipped smile. But, soon, you nodded your head and Dick let out a short laugh. “Come on in, then,” he invites you. You walked inside and sat on the desk chair while he continued unpacking.

“I have a secret,” you blurted. Dick turned to you, eyebrow raised.

“What’s that?”

“I… I have a secret stash of candy in my room,” you answered. It was secret enough, you’d been building a bit of a stockpile now. Dick cracks a smile, looking somewhat relieved.

“That’s some secret there, who else knows?”

“Just you,” you nodded. “You can’t tell anyone.”

“Okay.”

“Promise?”

“Friendly secret,” he makes a zipper motion over his mouth.

“Hmm… okay, I trust you,” you hummed. Dick smiled again, this time a bit tighter.

“I’m leaving now,” you hopped off.

“That’s fine! Thanks for dropping by,” he says. You nodded your head and ran across the hall to your room.

Dick, meanwhile, took a deep breath.

This was not what he signed up for when he agreed to help Bruce.

~

2022

The beast roared and, above you, a storm started to roll in.

“Well, talk about about a warm welcome,” you glanced at Jason and he shook his head.

“(Y/N)?! We ran up as soon as we saw you leave!” Tim and Damian regroup with you and you usher them behind you. Tim looks at the monster.

“When you said monsters, for some reason I didn’t think you meant legitamate monsters,” he says.

“Cap!” Aldryn rushes out of the barracks, your rifle and rapier in hand.

“Aldryn, I need you to run back down, bring Tim and Jason with you. You two, grab what you think you all can use,” you instructed. “I’ll handle things up here until you return, we’re going to need all hands on deck.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Aldryn salutes and waits for them to join him before rushing off again.

“Damian, I need you on crowd control,” you looked at him.

“What?! I can help!”

“Too bad, this is an order from your superior,” your voice was stern, and it took him aback, “crowd control. Make sure everyone is a safe distance away, am I clear?” You waited for his response.

“Yeah,” he nodded his head curtly before running off. You readied your rapier.

“Alright… let’s see what we’re working with,” you sprinted forward and the beast reached for you.

It’s going to be long day.

“Where are we going?” Tim asks.

“Weapons barracks,” Aldryn responds, running in after Jason and Tim. Jason grabs his usual while Tim looks around. “What are you looking for? If you can think of it, we have it.”

“Do you have a bo-staff then?” He asks. Aldryn hums.

“Yes, but you’ll have to come with me. Marion was using it earlier,” he mumbles. He leads him and Jason to the elevator and they descend.

“What was that thing?” Jason asks.

“We call them Daemons,” Aldryn speaks quietly. “We’ve dealt with monsters before, but none like them. They’re on a whole other level of power and now, beause of them, we’re short staffed,” Aldryn’s voice was grim. “Not exactly the best first operation for you two but, Cap’s orders.” The conversation ends when the elevator doors slide open.

“Aldryn!” Marion was surprised to see him, but more surprised to see the two behind him. “Do they have clearance?”

“They’re about to fight one up there, so I’d say so, yes,” Aldryn nods. 

“Holy shit, that’s one of them,” Jason eyes the beast in it’s cage. It snorts loudly but it becomes a low snarl. 

“Don’t worry about this one, since it’s in here it won’t be hurting anyone,” Marion says.

“No time for introductions, but this one here will be joining your research team once things settle down,” Aldryn points at Tim.

“Right, well, I’m assuming the Captain sent you down here for a reason, right?” Marion’s and Aldryn’s conversation were the least of Jason and Tim’s worries though. Jason looked over at Tim, who was looking at the beast.

“What are you thinking of, Tim?”

“Look at it, it’s just there,” Tim says. “The one outside is raising hell. Why is this one complacent?”

“Maybe it’s got something to do with all that stuff stuck to its cage.”

“Or maybe there’s more to it then they know,” Tim glances at Aldryn and Marion before approaching the cage.

“Whoa, Tim! Do you got a death wish?” Jason grabs Tim’s shoulder.

“It’s fine, they said it can’t hurt us,” Tim shakes him off and Jason follows close behind. “Also… this one’s different.”

“Can you really say that? You’ve only ever seen one other one.”

“Jason, it’s looking at me.”

“Okay. Wolves look at rabbits, what’s your point?”

“I can’t really explain it,” Tim mumbles. He stares at the monster. And it stares back. Then, slowly, it moves its head down and closer to the edge of the cage to match Tim’s eye level.

“You! Get back right now!” Marion’s voice was shrill and Tim broke eye contact. “How did you get it to respond to you?!” She pulls him away.

“I… I just looked-”

“Just like the Captain,” she mutters. She looks at Aldryn before shoving the bo-staff into Tim’s hands. “We’ll talk about this later, the Captain needs you first.

“Right, yeah,” Tim nods shortly and Aldryn motions for them to leave. But Jason looks at the beast a bit longer. Come to think of it, Tim had a point. This one was different. And, before he left, Jason’s eyes moved down to the floor, looking at the disturbed section of it where Tim was standing seconds before. “Jason!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Jason catches up with them.

And they returned just in time too.

“Ma’am!” Aldryn returns with your brothers as soon as you’d been pushed back from the blows. You moved the hair out of your face and caught your breath.

“Good. Aldryn, stay close to the Royal family, tell them I have it under control. If you run into any of the new recruits, tell them they’re on civilian duty,” you instructed. The Daemon roars again and a gust of wind blows behind it. Aldryn runs off.

“So, what do we do? Where are its weak points?” Tim asks.

“Their stomachs, maybe,” you answered.

“Maybe?!” Tim steps back when the Daemon finally takes notice of the group.

“Better a maybe than none,” you looked around.

“Captain! What’s the situation?” Eve appears next to you with the rest of the Brigade stepping out of the portal after. You pointed at the Daemon.

“Only one for now,” you mumbled.

“Holy shit it’s huge,” Nixon swallows harshly. You heard someone scream and your eyes scanned the courtyard. Then, you spotted Lowen cornered by yet another Daemon, noticeably smaller than the other one and with a visible streak of red fur running down from the top of it’s head to the tip of its tail. You hope that didn’t mean anything, nothing bad at least.

“Make it two, you all focus on this one, I’ve got the second!” You slung your rifle over your shoulder and readied your rapier while you ran over to him. “Lowen! Lower your head!” Lowen did so and you used the planter to boost your leverage before burying the rapier into the Daemon’s shoulder. The monster roared and tried to blindly grab at you, but you held your ground, holding your rifle with your other hand while clutching onto the handle of your sword and you pressed it to it’s other shoulder and pulled the trigger. The beast roared again before it grabbed your arm and threw you back where you came. You slid against the ground before slamming into the next planter and you groaned.

“Shake it off, Cap,” Carter pulls you up.

“Oh my god! Your arm!” Tim shouts, tearing his eyes away from the first Daemon for a second. You stand up and pick up your ripped-off arm.

“At least it threw both pieces,” Nixon winces when lightning struck a few paces away from him. You held it in place while the muscles reattached and, while it did, you felt every nerve reconnect and every muscle bind itself back together. The worst of it was to come, the bones were always the last to rebuild. You grit your teeth through the pain and once enough has reconnected you readied your rifle again, confidently holding it in one hand, and you fired it while aiming for the second Daemon’s foot, staggering it long enough for Lowen to scramble back.

“Oh, that is sick and twisted,” Jason looks away, holding his hand over his mouth and you readjusted the previous death grip on your rapier.

“No time for that, focus on the big one,” you ran back toward the second monster and Tim followed you. He dashed past you, stepping in front of Lowen just in time to counter the blow from the Daemon. “Tim! Hold your ground!”

“I’m trying!” Tim tightens his hold on the staff, his knuckles turning white from the pressure alone while Lowen stays frozen beneath him. You slide under the monster, your rapier piercing the Daemons stomach just enough for it to stagger back.

“Eve!”

“Got it!” Eve waves her hand toward your Daemon and in seconds it is held by down by an invisible force, but it fought back, it struggled against its restraints until it broke free and Eve lost her footing. It stood on its feet and locked its aim on you, it foamed at the mouth while it took heavy steps toward you and made grabbing motions toward you. Tim stood at your side all the way, staff now in front of you, when two shots rang out and Jason was next to step in front of you.

“Jay, you can’t take this in a fist fight,” you told him.

“I know,” he says. The beast snorts, looking Jason in the eye. It growls lowly. “Take the kid and go, I got this,” he says. You shook Lowen out of his fear and pulled him to safety. “Alright…” Jason continues his staredown of this monster, and never once did it stop. But there was this strange feeling he got from it, like it was familiar in a sense. Maybe this was what Tim felt earlier. Then, once a few magic circles surrounded it, the monster was debilitated and held in a prison of light.

“Go help the others with the big one,” Eve strains and Jason stares a her.

“You sure you’ve got it?.”

“I’ll manage,” she says while a bead of sweat rolls down the side of her face. She keeps her focus as best as she can, “but that one isn’t going down as quickly as this one did.” She takes deep breaths in attempt to hold it steady between portals, while behind her Nixon’s attacks seemed to deflect off of the bigger monster. Jason spots you running back, this time with your rifle, and you aimed it carefully before taking the shot. The bullet lodged itself into the monster’s shoulder right before it could swing at Nixon, and it stunned it long enough for him to make her escape.

“They’re getting stronger,” you commented. This one was stronger than five of those beasts you’d fought before put together. If it was taking most of the Brigade to subdue it, then that much was true.

~

2010

“Okay, I’ll help you once, alright?” Jason sighed and you grinned.

“Yes!”

“Here, put this on,” he shoves a bag toward you and you nodded excitedly before running out of the room. When you came back, your excitement shone through your mask.

“You can call me the Girl Wonder!” You threw your cape behind you and Jason snickered.

“Whoa, I’m shaking in my boots,” Jason teased and you pouted. “Wait, wait, it’s too big.”

“Of course, it’s too big, this was Dick’s costume right?” You rocked on your heels, and it became more apparent that the shoes were too big too. Jason tosses you your usual sneakers

“Put those on, let me see what I can do,” he walks around you before disappearing for a second and coming back with safety pins, “don’t move, or else I’m gonna poke you,” he adjusts the costume on the shoulders, he didn’t want to make any permanent alterations with something basically historic. 

“You think there’s gonna be a day you and I are fighting bad guys together?” You asked while he pinched up the fabric at your shoulders.

“Who knows, maybe,” Jason shrugged, his words muffled by the safety pins held between his lips.

“That would be cool, Jason and (Y/N), maybe Dick too, right? And dad?”

“Sure,” he feeds into your fantasy. “Only if I’m with you, though. You might trip over your cape.”

“Not true!” Still, Jason finds a way to shorten the cape.

“Yes, true! Look at your floor There’s trash all over it!”

“I’ll pick it up later! Geez!” You argued, but you calmed down just as quickly. “That would be so cool though… I want to be just like you.”

“Nah, you’d be better,” Jason chuckles. “There you go, kiddo,” he tests the stability of it and, once he’s happy with it, he pulls the cape over your shoulders to hide the pins.

“Now what?”

“We go to Titan tower,” Jason gestures for you to follow him.

“Oh, dad says I’m not allowed on that,” you eyed the Robin Motorcycle and Jason rolls his eyes.

“Pssh, it’s fine, you’re with me,” he lifts you and secures you to the seat before climbing on behind you and shoving the helmet onto your head.

“Is this legal?” Your voice was muffled by the helmet.

“Don’t worry about the details!” He starts up the motorcycle.

“Are you wearing a helmet?!” Actually you were wearing his.

“Yeah,” he lied and off you went.

You’d been in the batmobile plenty of times, seen the city in it just as much, but seeing it this way was different. Everything seemed closer, like you could reach out and join whatever scene was there. With the wind blowing around you and your hands firmly grasped onto the bike, this felt amazing! You felt like you were flying, moving faster than even some of the other cars, and every now and then an excited laugh would escape you.

Maybe being a Robin wouldn’t be so bad?

“Alright, kiddo, we’re here,” Jason parks the bike and helps you off. 

“You lied! You’re not wearing a helmet!” You pulled it off of your head and eyed the ‘R’ decal on the side.

“Yup, I did. Anyway, let’s set some ground rules,” Jason kneels so he can look at you in the eye, “you tell no one who you are, yeah? If anyone asks, you’re Robin, okay?”

“Why can’t I say my name?”

“It’s dangerous,” Jason explains, “and when you’re looking for Dick, you ask for Nightwing.”

“Is it also dangerous if they know his name?”

“Yes, very.”

“Okay,” you nodded and followed Jason to the side of the tower. He pulls the vent cover off and crawls in. So… maybe Jason wasn’t exactly allowed in Titan tower after a few misfortunate events that included him losing his cool and his temper. But, what can he do?

Dick really pissed him off.

But, that was beside the point. You wanted to see him, and this was the only way he could help you do that, so fuck it. Plus, with the majority of everyone's identities still being secret, he couldn't have you just waltzing in here anyway without him.

“Follow me.”

“This feels illegal.”

“Shh!”

“Okay, okay!” You followed him carefully and, after some twists and turns, Jason kicked out one of the vents and crawled out, helping you down too. You landed in some kind of lounge area, a large sofa in the middle.

“Wait here, Nightwing should be coming soon, I’ll wait for you outside,” Jason says before leaving the way he came. You sat on the couch, kicking your legs for a bit. Then you started playing with the end of your cape. The material was pretty comfy, actually, you could see yourself falling asleep in it easily. You wondered if Dick ever did. You always liked this costume, actually, it was so different from your dad’s that in some ways you preferred it.

Your brothers were heroes. How cool was that? And your dad was probably the most heroic one of them all, and that was much cooler. If only you could show it off, you were sure everyone would be jealous of you. How often can anyone say that their family are superheroes? Dick always looked so cool in this uniform, and sure he still looks amazing with his new one, but this one? It was different.

Finally after waiting enough you decided to just find him yourself. How hard could it be anyway?

Very hard, apparently.

So you did what any preteen would do and wandered around the tower, he had to be somewhere, right?

Until you landed in the middle of what you assumed to be a training room. It was a spacious room with a kiosk off to the side, and you sat down in the middle, crossing your legs and holding them to your chest. This sucked. And you didn’t even know the way back out to meet Jason to go home. Then, off to the corner of your eye, you saw movement, and you turned your head toward it but… nothing. But you felt the stares, you felt the eyes, and it scared you. You couldn’t call for help, you didn’t know where Dick was and Jason was too far to hear, so you shut your eyes tight and covered your ears. But that never stopped you before.

“Help!” Your voice was loud and immediately you heard a vent clatter to the ground while Jason tumbled out of it, he stood in front of you with one hand up and the other on his belt, ready to pull out a batarang if needed.

“Stop! We’re not intruders!” He shouts.

“Relax, everyone,” Dick’s voice was firm while he held a fist up to stop all movements, and, slowly the Titans back off. Dick eyed Jason and gestured for him to move over before he approached you slowly, crouching down as soon as he was close enough. And he felt his heart tighten. He knew it was you as soon as he’d seen you, but to see you in that? His old uniform? That old thing that had been ripped apart after many battles and had been stained with blood many a time… To see you wearing it was almost wrong. The little girl who cried whenever her brothers had scratches, the one who called for help for the smallest of things, to think that you could be a Robin almost ripped him apart, he didn’t want you to go through any of what he did, any of what Jason did. Hell, you just called for help right now and this is probably one of the safest places you could be.

Jason, only he could’ve put you up to this, and he made his intent clear from the quick glare he shot him, but Jason replied by whistling and rolling his eyes. Dick only sighed and reached out to rub your head. You removed your hands just enough to peer over them, and once you’d seen him, your frown deepened and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight, and he held you back. You missed him, a lot. 

“False alarm, everyone, she’s my sister,” he rubs your back gently before rising up and, once you’d looked around, you saw the other members of the Titans that Dick was always talking about. “And you,” he looks at Jason, “we’ll talk later, wait outside for her and I’ll bring her out,” he says. Jason doesn’t fight it, he just nods and leaves the room, looking back to see you watching him go.

“He’s not in trouble is he?” You tugged at Dick’s arm to get his attention. “It was my idea to come here…” you muttered. Before Dick could respond, you were surrounded by excited voices. And you recognized all of them, you’d seen them plenty of times on your dad’s big computer alongside the other heroes.

“Whoa, Nightwing! You have a younger sister?” Garfield was the first to approach you, looking at you closely as if trying to find any similarities between the two of you.

“Yeah, adoptive,” he explains, ushering you forward. 

“What a cute little girl!” Starfire pinches your cheeks and you let her, feeling the warmth from her hands radiate into your face as she did so and you didn’t hate it, “have you come to visit your brother?”

“Yeah,” your voice was slightly stifled.

“Good, take him home with you, he needs a break,” Starfire grins.

“Come on, Star, there’s too much work to do here,” he shakes his head. 

“Now, what’s your name? You got a cool one too?” Garfield asks and Dick clears his throat before you could answer.

“Obviously, we can’t tell you her name, but you can just call her Robin while she’s here.”

“That’s a little confusing with the other Robin,” Raven mutters.

“But the other Robin isn’t here right now,” Wally answers. 

“Alright, how about Little Wing, then?” Dick tosses out the nickname he had for you and your eyes lit up.

“Cool!” Wally zips over to you. “You really a Robin?” You shook your head. “Whoa, I was about to say…”

“Alright, alright, let’s not crowd her, okay?” Dick pushes you slightly behind him now, “you guys filter out, I’ll talk with her for a bit, I think I know why she’s here,” Dick wears a knowing smile, and the others groan but leave anyway, leaving you and Dick in the training room.

“So, Little Wing, what brings you all the way here from Gotham?” He sits down and crosses his legs, and you sit next to him.

“I just wanted to visit, is all…” you muttered.

“Oh, yeah?”

“You’re never home anymore…” you mumbled. Dick sighs.

“Yeah… yeah,” he nods, “the team needs me here.”

“But I need you there,” you replied. A small frown settles on Dick’s face.

“I know, I can’t come home right now, (Y/N),” he says while listening for unwanted ears, “but, hey, you still have Robin.”

“He’s still rude!” You shout. “He’s not like you, whenever I ask to do stuff with him all he does is complain, he can be so mean sometimes!” You grumbled.

“Mean? He took you all the way here, didn’t he?” Dick leans back on his palms and you huffed.

“I guess… but that’s probably because I keep complaining about how you’re not around anymore,” you pout.

“And he still does all those things with you even though he complains, right?”

“Yeah,” you looked to the side.

“Heck, even when you called for help that kid came tumbling down, I’m sure you hurt his feelings every time you call him mean.”

“Do I really?” Your voice was small. You hadn’t really considered it before. You and Jason had a tendency to argue, and maybe say a few mean things to each other every now and then, but you never once thought that you hurt his feelings during. “I guess he’s not so bad…”

“Looks like I got a worthy replacement then,” he claps your shoulder and you frowned again while shifting slightly away from him.

“Why aren’t you ever home anymore?” Dick doesn’t answer. “Is it dad? Did you two get in a fight?”

“Something like that,” Dick sighs. “But, you’re right, just because he and I are fighting doesn’t mean I should ignore you,” he rubs your hair playfully and you smiled. “I’ll carve out some time for you too, I can’t have Robin stealing all my thunder, right?” He smiles and you nodded your head.

“Promise?”

“Sibling's promise," he smiles.

~

2022

“Move!” You pushed Nixon out of the way just in time for the Daemon’s arm to hammer down on top of you. You barely dodged in time, the beast’s arm just grazing you before it slammed against the ground and cracked the concrete beneath it. You pierced your blade into the beast’s stomach and it roared above you. “Shit, not enough,” you pulled back, but the beast grabbed onto you. “Shit!” You repeated and the beast opened its maw wide before it came biting down over your shoulder, its teeth digging into your neck, back, and chest. Your scream was near primal, feeling every single piece of you rip and sew itself back together.

“Captain!” Eve’s shriek could be heard from anywhere. 

“(Y/N)!” And only Jason’s could have rivaled it. You heard successive rounds fired out and you knew they hit their target, but it couldn’t have been enough to fell this beast. Shurikens embedded themselves into the daemon’s body before you saw the staff flung toward it. But the beast only caught it in its hands and tossed it to the ground. You thrashed against the monster, you were too close to use your rifle and too busy to make your rapier be of any use aside from a handle. You grabbed onto the monster’s face, trying to pry it off of you, but it just bit down harder, pulling out yet another pained scream from you. Tim found a way to get on top of the beast and, holding Carter’s sword, he plunged the sword into the beast’s neck, but all it did was anger it further, and it shook you side to side like a dog would a toy, and your screams became garbled from the harsh movements. Tim was thrown to the ground in time for Jason to step forward and aim for the more vital parts of the beast.

But it wasn’t enough.

And you began to resort to more grotesque techniques to survive. So, with mangled limbs, you grabbed onto the beast’s ears and pushed back with all your might until you started to feel the flesh rip. Then another roar is heard. You turned your head to its source, right in front of the Barracks, and you felt an intense wave of dread.

It escaped.

The previously captured Daemon breathed heavily, chain collar around it’s neck and broken shackles on each limb. It was looking at you.

Sure, you could reattach. But, hypothetically, if you were ripped apart just enough, to the point that there was no base body to even reattach to, then this might be the end for you.

But that wasn’t fair. You couldn’t die yet, not in front of them. You were just barely able to catch a glimpse of Jason, the only one turned toward you, and it killed you, the way he looked. You couldn’t even imagine Tim. Thank god you sent Damian away.

“Oh, fuck,” Nixon charged toward it, but the daemon bent down on it’s hind legs before leaping across the air and toward you. It landed with a loud thud, shaking the ground temporarily before charging toward you and the daemon that was still trying to gnaw you in half.

You winced when the daemon locked its jaw on you, and you prepared yourself for impact, but instead, the chained Daemon bit onto the larger one’s neck and ripped it off of you. You fell to the ground, panting heavily and with no strength to get it up, but you were able to turn your head just enough to see the fight. It was gruesome.

“(Y/N), holy shit,” Jason helps you sit up, his hands red with the blood from your back. You brought your one good hand to your head and tried to stop the ringing in your ears through sheer will. Jason waved a hand in front of you. “How many fingers?”

“Three,” your eyes were slowly focusing again. You looked down at your chest.

It wasn’t reattaching. Not fast, at least.

“Are they fighting?” Carter runs up next to you, eyeing the bite wound before looking at the two beasts.

“Yeah, where’s Alex?” You were still catching your breath.

“Calling for help, again,” Carter looks around. “Eve’s getting medical supplies and Nixon’s watching the other one.”

“Okay,” you coughed up blood and you kept your head turned low. You couldn’t look at Jason. You didn’t want to know what kind of expression he had on his face right now. And you couldn’t let Tim see you this way either.

“(Y/N)! Let me see it,” Tim falls in front of you, looking at the damage, but his hands were shaking. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he says. “It was me, I saw it and got curious, I must have weakened the defense somehow,” Tim mumbles.

“Don’t,” you shook your head and looked past him, toward the fight. “They’re fighting each other… but why?” Your breathing was labored.

“Save your energy, kid.” You just realized that Jason has been supporting you this whole time. You watched the chained daemon grab onto the electric one, holding both of its arms before ripping one off entirely.

“Holy fuck,” it was like you were watching a massacre. And when the chained daemon bit down on the other for the last time, it closed its jaw completely over the other’s neck. Slowly, it rose again, opening its jaw to let the blood of its felled opponent spill out, and then it turned to you. Instinctively, you tried to push back, but Jason held you in place. His gaze was as locked upon it as it was to you.

The daemon approached the group slowly, its eyes menacing and its jaw hung open, but its steps were slow and maybe casual. Its ears folded down and as it closed the distance its eyes seemed to soften. Before it finally stood above you, everyone held still by your weakened fist in the air, ready to signal an attack at any moment. But nothing happened, it just stood there.

And then it looked at Tim.

You were already confused about why it seemed responsive to you, but to Tim too?

“Tim,” your voice was weak.

“Yeah?” He didn’t break eye contact with the beast.

“Around its neck are a pair of dog tags, read it for me.”

“Okay…” Tim reached his hand out slowly. And the beast, as if understanding, turned its head up to allow the tags to be seen better. “CK-78.”

“Does it mean anything to you?” You asked. Blood was still pooling out of the bite marks across your torso.

Tim’s eyes narrowed on the dogtags, and then he looked up at the daemon’s eye. Strange, it was as if it was begging Tim to get it. To figure out the mystery behind it.

While Tim did so, Eve returned, holding the first aid kit and kneeling next to you.

“I got it,” Jason took the bandages. He knew a thing or two about field patching, he’d say. He wrapped it around your body a couple of times after packing the larger wounds, it’ll do for now, but you’d have to get the seen by a professional later.

Look at this.

His worst nightmare.

During his time as a Robin, there was a reoccurring nightmare he’d always have.

It would start out as normal, it was one of those dreams that felt so real that he wouldn’t think twice. He’d pick you up from academy, you’d do whatever you felt like doing, and on your way home you’d be interrupted by one of the bastards who had Batman and Robin on their hit list. They would fight. And Jason would be so busy beating the shit out of them that he wouldn’t realize the mortal wounds you had. And when he would clean you up, when he would stop the bleeding any way he knew how, you would look away from him, and you wouldn’t say anything.

He would always wake up in a cold sweat after that, comforted by the fact that it was a nightmare.

Except now wasn’t that, it was real. It was so real that you were bleeding through your bandages, and you were holding your head from the blood loss, no doubt seeing the world spin, and you weren't looking at him.

“What happened?!” Damian came back too late, seeing you on the ground. It was his turn to sit in front of you. “Sister? Sister!” Damian held your face in his hands. But your eyes had glazed over. Your breaths were shallow, and your head heavy.

You were so tired.

Your eyelids slipped shut and the last thing you felt was Damian shaking you.

~

2014

You watched silently while Dick went through his normal workout routine. You were more disinterested, if anything, sure it was cool at first but now it was just a wasted three hours of your day. But, you needed to ask him something, in fact that was why you’d been staying with him for the past week, one part of it was that it was this odd request of yours and the other part of it was that you just didn’t want to be home. It was so suffocating in the mansion, so quiet, and so…

Lonely.

“What’s up, little wing?” Dick pulled you out of your thoughts. He wiped the sweat off his neck with a towel and started shoving the weights back into their original places. “You’ve been staring at me for a while now.”

“Have I? Sorry, it wasn’t creepy was it?”

“It was a little creepy,” he chuckled. “But… I know I look good,” he nudges you playfully.

“Shut up, you’re gross,” you made a fake gagging sound and leaned back against the wall, being sure to avert your gaze this time.

“Is… everything alright?” He asks as if testing the waters. You didn’t blame him, to be fair. Since you’d arrived, you hadn’t mentioned his name once.

“Everything’s fine,” you shrugged. Dick sits next to you now, picking up his water bottle along the way and taking a deep breath.

“I know it’s hard but… he’s my brother too.” That got you. You leaned forward with your elbows on your knees and you buried your face in your hands. “It’s okay to grieve,” he says. It’s already been a year.

“But what if I don’t want to?” Your voice was muffled. “Me grieving is like me accepting that he’s dead, but he can’t be, right? Dad wouldn’t have let him die, right?” Your questions would go unanswered, instead, you felt Dick place a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“Everyone… everyone has to go eventually,” Dick says carefully.

“Why did it have to be him, though?” Your tears spilled out of your hands now. You never really thought of how deadly your family’s jobs were. They were just always so prepared, so ready for any possible thing that could go wrong, until they weren’t. “I… I’ve been watching Tim train to be Robin, and it got me thinking about what he asked me before…” your voice trailed after being interrupted by hiccups, and Dick just rubbed your upper back the whole time, waiting patiently for you to finish. You took a deep breath. “Tim asked me… to become the next Robin, originally. But I said no, and now he’s training instead. But… you know he’s so bright, he can do anything he wants and instead, because I chickened out, he’s training to be a vigilante.” Dick didn’t say anything. “But you know me and how I feel about what you all do.”

“I do.”

“I just… it’s not…” you paused. “Could I even do it?” You turned to him now. Dick, though, turned away from you with his focus on his hands. They were grasping onto each other tight with the knuckles turning white. “Dick?”

“What do you think, (Y/N)?” He asks. “If you came here to ask me to make that decision for you, I won’t. You know as well as I do what being a Robin means.”

“But he’s just so… young, Dick. I never realized how young you both were when you started, but now when I watch Tim I can’t help but worry.”

“Hell, you should’ve seen us then,” Dick laughs quietly. There’s no way you could know his thoughts right now. He who might have been the reason why you were so averted to vigilante business to begin with, he did everything he possibly could to keep you separate from it and now here you were, asking him if you should become a Robin. It was one of his worst nightmares, actually. There have been many a time he thought if becoming a vigilante was the right way to cope, he thought he was becoming a hero, but really he at first became a soldier. He couldn’t see you become like that. You who was probably the only thing keeping both him and Bruce grounded, imagine if they lost that, imagine if you lost that.

“But doesn’t it make sense though, Dick? If I became a Robin?”

“Well… yeah,” he nods his head absently, “but is that what you want to do?” You thought for a moment. The toll vigilante work took on your dad, the childhood it took from Dick, the life it took from Jason, and the time it was taking from Tim, could you shoulder that?

“I came here for two reasons,” you said instead, “one was to get out of that house. No one’s ever home anymore,” you muttered.

“And the second?”

“I was going to ask you to train me,” you admitted bashfully. “But I don’t think I was ever cut out for vigilante work, I don’t have the same resolve you and… he did,” you took a deep breath. “What exactly did you two fight about for Jason to have been banned from the Titan tower, Dick?”

“…” he didn’t answer for a while. But you knew that look on his face, he was thinking, and very hard at that too. “He wanted to train you,” he says, “he wanted to have the both of us train you. Have you learn the basics of being a Robin just in case… just in case neither of us could’ve gotten to you in time.” Your face grew more serious. “And I said ‘no.’”

“Why?”

“At that time, when you were twelve, did you want to be a Robin?” He asks. You thought about it for a while.

“Yes, I thought I could be a Robin,” you nodded.

“And now?” He waits for your answer.

“I… I don’t know. But, was the fight really all that bad for him to get banned?”

“You don’t understand, (Y/N),” Dick shook his head. “No one knows the price of being a Robin more than we did. You know, no matter how old you get, you’re still our little sister, I don't know what I'd do if even half the shit that happened to me happened to you,” he nudges you. “We didn’t see eye-to-eye on that and, well, I already disagreed with how he treated the mantle too, so I won’t lie and I tell you we started off on a good page,” he says. “And when it came to you, what to do with you and how to take care of you, we either agreed with each other entirely or were at odds, there was no in-between,” Dick rolled his eyes, thinking back to the arguments between the two.

“Really?”

“Yeah, we just never did it in front of you, obviously,” Dick says. “You know us well, (Y/N). Take you being in danger. If it was up to me you’d never be in a dangerous situation to begin with, so I hope you never held it against me when I told you to stay behind.”

“I did.”

“I know,” Dick nods. “You do this thing where you’d take a deep breath and close your eyes and that’s how we’d know you’re upset,” he laughs and you broke a smile. “But Jason? Phew. To him, as long as you were within an arm’s distance, you were never in danger, and that was pretty much true from how I’d see him with you,” Dick shakes his head.

“Well… yeah, it’s the same with you, right?” You asked.

“Of course! But, also, not necessarily,” he shakes his head again. “It’s happened enough times before, I would just pull you out of a situation before things got too heated. Jason, though, would throw himself in front of you if it meant keeping you safe, he was always reckless like that,” he says. And look where it got him. “Like that time you first visited me at the Tower, oh my god, I almost popped a vein when I heard how you got there,” Dick exaggerates his words with his hands. “The Robin Cycle?! Seriously?! God, so much could have gone wrong, and, oh my god, you were in the vents!” Dick started rambling and you started laughing. “He’s actually crazy to think that would’ve been okay,” Dick runs a hand through his hair and you settled down.

“I had so much fun that day,” your smile fell into a softer one, “I remember thinking that I was just like you guys…” Dick nods solemnly.

"That's... If there was one thing Jason and I always agreed on, it was that we wanted you to be better than we could ever be. For me, that was making your own choices free from a legacy, and for Jason that was being more prepared than he ever was," Dick says before taking a deep breath. “Sometimes I forget we were that same age when we started,” Dick says.

“Exactly,” you sighed.

“The only difference was that Jason and I were insanely traumatized, and you weren’t,” he chuckles and you shifted uncomfortably.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” your arms rested over your knees. “You and Jason were these self-made heroes, and I was the spoiled rich kid brat who thought it would’ve been easy.”

“Spoiled? Yeah. Brat? Nah,” Dick laughs.

“Hey!”

“Hey you! Whatever you wanted we got you!”

“Okay, well that was your choice,” you defended yourself.

“True,” Dick concedes. But then his smile falls. “We used to talk about it. (Y/N),” the tone shifts again, “it’s not that we think you couldn’t handle being a vigilante, anyone can take on the mantle, it’s whether or not you’d be best utilized for that mantle. You have so many other strengths that Jason and I don’t have, you know you kept us grounded so many times when all we wanted to do was fly,” Dick says. “There are days where we almost went too far, I think, and every time there you were to help us back down,” he continues, but then he stops. “If you want to be a Robin, then I’ll help you, but you need to find someone who can be your grounder too. That hopeful humanity you have is what makes you such a vital part to our team, and I’m just afraid that becoming Robin will change that,” he finishes. You held on to every word.

Robin, what did it really stand for? It wasn’t just Batman’s sidekick, it was a symbol as much as Batman was. A symbol of hope for some, the hope that came after vengeance.

And here you were, wanting to become a Robin just to hunt down the Joker.

You couldn’t tell that to Dick.

But it made you so upset. The Joker killed your brother and your father hasn’t done anything about him, hell, you were just reading an article about how Joker and Batman had a showdown and still your father let him go. Wasn’t your father angry at all? Didn’t he feel some kind of guilt or sympathy for Jason?

“(Y/N), I know what you’re thinking, I can see it in your eyes,” Dick says. “But Bruce… Bruce has his own way of grieving too. We don’t have to understand it, it’s not like he’d tell us anyway, but just like how you came to me, Bruce went to someone else,” Dick explains.

“He’s my own dad, and I feel like you know him better than I ever will.”

“I am older than you,” he nudges you softly.

“I just wish he came to us,” you mumbled. “He thinks he’s so alone sometimes, and I feel it,” you held onto your chest and rubbed it softly with the ball of your hand. “I feel like I don’t know him anymore, Dick, I don’t know how to talk to my own dad.”

“Just start small, he’s grieving too.”

“I don’t recognize him anymore, Dick,” your hands went to your arms now. “Don’t tell him this, okay?” You looked at him, your eyes wide with a hint of… something, something Dick didn’t want to admit.

“I won’t.”

“Promise?”

“Sibling secret,” he makes a zipper motion with his mouth. You moved so that you were facing him a little more.

“When he came home the other night, Tim was already in bed and I was about to go too, but you know I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately, and my therapist recommended tea. I figured dad would want some too, he usually does after late-night patrols, so I made some for him and brought it down to the cave. I was originally just going to leave it there, but he was already sitting down in front of the batcomputer… I didn’t even hear him come in,” you started. “And when I placed the mug down, he turned to look at me so fast that I almost fell back, and…” you hesitated, but Dick was listening very carefully, “he threw one of those batarangs of his. He threw it towards me and he missed, but,” your hand ghosted over your cheek, where the shallow cut was long before, “I know he didn’t mean to, he’d been on edge ever since what happened but… he scared me, Dick. The way he looked at me, it scared me so much I couldn’t move,” your hands were trembling, they were trembling so much you clasped your hands together to stop them, but they didn’t, “I’ve never been afraid of dad before but that night was different. I couldn’t say anything to him, I just dropped the mug off and ran back upstairs.”

“Did he do that?” Dick was in disbelief. You nodded your head, the image still clear in your mind.

“The next morning he apologized but… I didn’t think I’d ever be in that situation to begin with. I know, I know ever since what happened with Jason he’s been so guarded, so I’m not holding it against him but…” you trailed off. You were so scared that night. “I know it won’t happen again.”

“It won’t, you’re right,” he says. “Maybe…” he hesitates. “Maybe I’ll drop by a bit more, I know Tim’s been training, but maybe it’ll help more if a former Robin helped him out,” Dick says. Your expression seemed to perk up at this.

“You’re coming home?”

“Just visiting,” he says. “Might do Tim some good to have someone other than Alfred and Bruce, right?” He rolls his shoulders out. “Plus, I can tell you miss me,” he nudges your shoulder and you rolled your eyes again.

“I always miss you guys,” you waved it off.

“Aww, oh my god! My sister misses me?” Dick exaggerates and you groan.

“Don’t you dare make me regret coming here!”

“Oh, I am so touched, I could cry,” Dick hides his eyes with his hand before separating his fingers just enough to see your deadpan expression. You shook your head and stood up.

“Thanks, Dick, for hearing me out,” you wiped your palms on your thighs.

“Of course, anything for you, (Y/N),” he smiles.

“I don’t want to bother you anymore-”

“Whoa! You’re leaving already? Let me treat you out first, you came all the way here to Blüdhaven, I can’t let you go home on an empty stomach,” Dick jumps up and walks ahead of you.

“No, it’s okay!”

“(Y/N), Alfred would kill me,” Dick looks back with an inflated look of despair and you laughed.

“You’re right, you’re right, fine! But I get to choose!”

“Keeping up the spoiled persona, I get you.”

"Dick! You're such a..." you stopped yourself and Dick waited with expectant eyes for the punchline. "I'm not gonna say it."

"It was worth a shot," Dick waits for you to catch up and you both left together.

~

2022

You’re in the manor, but you knew, not really. The details were fuzzy, faceless paintings repeated themselves, and hallways seemed longer than usual. Every time you turned a wrong corner the hallway would loop until you realized that you had to turn around.

This was a dream.

Ever since you’d come to this new Earth, you had this uncanny ability of lucid dreaming. Or, at the very least, you were very conscious in your dreams. You always remembered them after too. But naught without cost. You either had a dreamless night, or you had relentless nightmares. You were already mentally preparing yourself for what you were about to see. If you were in the manor then, you already know, this one would be tough. And it seemed that your dream was guiding you into the foyer, and it landed you in front of the infamous bookcase. You pulled the bust’s head back and pressed the button, watching the bookcase slide forward and to the side. The staircase down was dark, near infinite. You took a deep breath and took a step closer to it.

“(Y/N)? You’re not allowed down there,” you heard a voice behind you say. You turned around and saw a much younger Dick Grayson.

“Why not?”

“It’s dangerous.” He says.

“Why don’t you come with me then?” You caught your reflection on the glass case next to you. You were so little. Your cheeks round with baby fat and your hair tied into twin tails. This was going to be rough.

“I… I wouldn’t be enough, just stay up here, okay? Let’s play a game,” he pulls out a Monopoly set and you shook your head.

“Sorry, Dick, I just want to be done with this.” You shook your head and walked into the darkness, feeling the chill of fear run through you with every step. And finally you reached the bottom, and the cave illuminated. You could hear someone typing on the keyboard. “Dad?” You called out to him and the clacking stopped. You walked further into the cave, until you could see the batcomputer and the looming figure of the Batman sitting in front of it. “I didn’t hear you come home,” you waited for his response. And there was none. “Dad?” You chanced it again. And the Batman turned quickly on the chair.

You were afraid.

You felt your heart pumping and the blood rushing through your veins. That wasn’t your father, no, it was a daemon in the Batsuit, how fucking fitting. And you screamed, you called for help, and you wanted to fall to the ground and cover your ears with how the daemon roared. And when it fell to the ground and started clawing its way toward you it just felt so real, it felt so real that you could feel the tears streaming down your face and your burning throat.

“(Y/N)! Get away!” Your dad. You felt someone pull you back with such force that you nearly flew at that size. And you watched the two Batmen fighting. One, your father, and the other a daemon. 

“You!” Another voice now. You were knocked to the ground and you saw… you. She pinned you down with a crazed look in her eyes. “You took everything from me,” her voice dripped with venom and you looked away. She wrapped her hands around your throat and pressed her thumbs against your windpipe. “I’ll kill you.” You gasped for air now and she throttled you. “Give it back. Give it back to me!” You shook your head, and you shut your eyes, trying every trick in the book to wake up. You bit your tongue, you gnawed on your hands, and you even tried doing simple math until finally you shot up from bed.

Taking deep breaths, you clutched onto your heart. Your wounds had been cleaned and bandaged. You looked around the med bay and you wiped the cold sweat from your head. You looked to the side, spotting the scattered tools, and you grabbed the scalpel. You took more deep breaths, the world at your peripherals still fuzzy, and you plunged it into your hand just to be sure you’d woken up and soon you heard a shout next to you.

“Are you crazy?! Give me that!” Jason tugged the scalpel out of your hand and chucked it toward the other side of the room. It looks like he had just woken up too. He slumped back on the chair next to your bed and took deep breaths.

“Jason, what happened?” You watched your hand reattach. Back to normal.

“What happened? You almost got ripped apart, that’s what happened,” he points at your bandages.

“I mean after, Jay.”

“Oh, well,” he shakes the shock off, “after you passed out, Alex came back and helped that other girl wheel you over here to get you patched up. Tim went with Mary, I think her name was, and they started doing stuff with the monster to see why it reacted that way.”

“And Damian?” Jason points at the other side of your bed and you turned your head toward it. Damian had fallen asleep next to you, head resting on his arms that were crossed over the edge of the bed. Wordlessly, you rubbed his hair gently and you turned to Jason. “Talk about a warm welcome,” you repeated. Jason didn’t answer, he was looking down at your hand. “You’re right. It is sick and twisted.” Your hand looked like nothing had happened to it. “Looks like I never stabbed it all, huh?” Your voice was quiet, so as not to wake Damian.

“But those are still there,” he looked at the healed over that encircled your whole wrist.

Your hands were the first to go that night.

You rubbed it softly.

“I don’t like thinking about it.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“I still have nightmares about it,” you tugged the hospital gown up, as if it would hide the scar that encircled your neck. It didn’t.

“Was that the one you had just now?”

“No, that one was… fairly new,” you thought back to it. It wasn’t the first time you’d been attacked by yourself. You figured it was some crazy dream symbolism thing that said you were at odds with yourself, but you weren’t so sure. Jason didn’t need to know about it. “It’s fine,” you shook your head.

“Oh, Captain, you’re up,” the nurse walks in with a clipboard in hand. “That was a nasty bite you had there, but I suspect it’s all been reattached by now, right?” You touched your chest. All good. You nodded your head and the nurse beamed. “Excellent, then, you’d been resting for a while so you should be able to get back to work soon?”

“How long have I been out?”

“It’s been a couple of days, Captain. Sir Grant will drop by and hand you the paperwork you’ve missed.”

“It can’t be that much, can it?” You asked. The nurse just smiles.

“Dr. Bronte ordered you to remain on bed rest for the week, he was very adamant about it,” she says. “So, unfortunately, nothing but paperwork.”

“What?! He knows I reattach, right?!” You shot up from bed and she ushers you back down.

“Yes, of course, but it’s still his orders,” she says. You groaned.

“I see, thank you,” you dismissed her and she saluted before leaving the room.

“So… Captain, huh?” Jason makes conversation. “You have to tell me about that,” he crosses his ankle over his knee and you shook your head with a slight smile.

“It’s boring.”

“Well, not like you’re going anywhere.”

“Rude!”

“I’m serious! I wanna know what you’ve been up to! I thought you hated being a leader.”

“I do.”

“So… why Captain?”

“God, everyone else is incomptent,” you rolled your eyes and Jason laughed.

“That’s more like you, tell me from the beginning.”

“Ugh… well…” You looked up at the ceiling, thinking of where to start. “When I woke up here I was so lost. I was lucky enough to have been brought in by good people, and they showed me how this world worked, but I knew I had to repay them somehow. Luckily for me, one of them was the previous Captain, so he let me train under him and now I’m here. That’s the shortened version,” you explained.

“What? Boring, give me the good one.”

“You’re so annoying!”

“Sure, yeah, now tell me about people you beefed with.”

“Fine.”

~

2015

You were worried sick, and you stayed up late to wait for your father and Tim to come home, they told you they’d be back in the morning, and now it was nearing midnight, their comms were turned off and their locations unknown, Babs was going near crazy trying to locate them and here you were, waiting in the Batcave like it would do something.

“Dick, what do you think?” You chewed on the tip of your thumb. Your older brother stood by the computer, trying to do anything to locate anything.

“I might send the Titans in after them if they’re not back,” he says. You stood up and looked at the screen. Tim had only recently been inducted in as a Robin, after months and months of training, he finally made it, and this was his first big break mission with your father after he’d saved the others from Two-Face, the first time he was entrusted with an actual mission aside from the Gotham patrols. But… you were worried.

Then, finally, you heard the telltale sign of the plane landing, and you and Dick were quick to run over. Your father emerged first and soon after…

“Tim?” You stepped forward to see him better and… You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, it was the only thing louder than the ringing. There was blood, a lot of it, it caked around his face and on his uniform, and it left footprints where he walked. He spotted you, forcing a smile and a wave.

But the world around you dulled. All conversation was muted to you. Your vision tunneled on Tim, and for some reason all you could see was Jason, head split open by a crowbar and blood pooled around him like you’d seen in all your nightmares, and when you’d blink he’d go back to Tim, bloodied. Then you’d blink again, Jason, you’d blink, Tim. What was this ringing? This fear you felt in your heart? Couldn’t your father have helped clean him up a little on his way here? Couldn’t he have dressed those wounds better? Was the blood even his?

“(Y/N)?” Tim was closer now, you noticed him nursing his side, the wound messily dressed and barely doing the job. You looked at your father.

“Oh, Tim,” your hands rest on his shoulders gently, while you tried to assess the damage. “What happened?” You asked carefully.

“It was rough,” your father shook his head. “Too many variables we didn’t account for, we won’t make that mistake again.”

“Too many variables? Enough to leave Tim like this?” You looked at him. “Let me see it,” you looked at his side.

“It’s okay,” Tim shakes his head.

“Show me,” you insisted. Tim only nodded, removing his hand just enough so you could see the scar through the cut-open uniform. Go figure, the Robin uniform wasn’t fit for a jungle. You looked at your father again, who was looking at Tim. “What happened?”

“Mutated animals, we’re still investigating it, we’ll return in the morning,” he responds.

“In the morning? Look at him! He’s barely holding himself together!” You argued. “Take Dick with you! Tim needs to rest.”

“(Y/N),” Dick spoke up, or had he been speaking?

“He’s fine, (Y/N), we all cleared him for Robin work, this is just collateral,” your father answers.

“Just collateral? He’s not a business, he’s Tim fucking Drake!” You stepped in front of Tim now. “Do you want to go back there?” You looked at him, and he shrank in his shoes. Tim only shook his head, clearly still shaken from the events.

“He’s a Robin, he wanted to be a Robin, trained for it, and now he is it,” Batman argues.

“Christ, dad, he’s thirteen!” You shout.

“Dick was eleven!”

“And look where that got him! He resents you!” You looked to Dick, who sighed and shook his head. He couldn’t answer, because what you said had some truth to it. Everyone knew it.

“Jason was—”

“Jason is dead!” You cut him off, your hands balled at your sides and your throat strained, there was a tense silence in the cave now. “You killed my brother! You killed him and you didn’t even grieve like a normal person, I had to hear from Tim that you were ripping people apart in the ports! That’s horrifying, dad! Why… why are you repeating what happened with Jason?!”

“Take that back!” Batman’s voice rose in a way no one ever heard before.

“And what will you do if Tim is gone? Are you going to go on a killing spree?” You felt like pulling your hair out. “Jason’s gone and you haven’t done shit about it!”

“I’ve done everything to avenge him!”

“Everything to avenge but none to honor!” You stood up taller now, and you looked the Batman in his eye. “The Joker still runs wild, and all you’ve done is train his replacement.”

“You know nothing about what I do for this city!”

“And I don’t want to be part of it,” you could feel your throat burning. “Look at Tim! He could be dead right now and you wouldn’t do anything about it, you said it yourself, it’s just collateral,” you turned his words on him and Batman stepped forward. You stepped back. 

“Death… death is part of the job,” Batman responds and your shoulders slumped.

“God… are you even my father when you put that mask on?” You tried to step back, hoping you’d see at least some of your dad in him, but nothing. “If death is so okay with you then I don’t want to be next in line. I will never be a vigilante.”

“What did you say?” Batman spoke up.

“You…” You’re a monster. You couldn’t find it in yourself to say it. “I will never be a vigilante, I want nothing to do with this Batman circus act, especially if you’re so okay with your kids being near killed,” you were running your mouth now, saying everything that came to mind. You just couldn’t think straight, how the hell did your older brothers do it? You would scrape a knee and they’d raise hell, now Tim comes home bleeding head to toe and you want to throttle whoever did this to him. “I don’t know who you even are, anymore, but the Batman I idolized would have never put his sons in these kinds of situations!”

“You don’t know me!”

“I don’t anymore!”

“Don’t pretend you understand this line of business!”

“I’m not! I don’t understand being a vigilante at all!”

“You’ve lived with us your whole life and you still don’t understand?! Gotham needs us!”

“You’re right, Gotham needs you! Not some remote island with mutated animals! Jesus, you could’ve at least given Tim some actual gear!”

“We didn’t account for monsters thrice our size!”

“And you didn’t think to regroup and plan that shit out?!”

“Watch your language!”

“Fuck my language, Tim’s barely together!”

“You’re acting like you know him so well.”

“And you do?! You really think any normal thirteen-year-old would be okay with getting their shit beat out of them!”

“He chose this.”

“He doesn’t have to get ripped apart because of it!”

“You are making a big deal out of—”

“I just don’t want to lose another brother!” Your voice echoed in the cave. You looked back to Tim, whose hands were over his ears now and his eyes shut closed. His bloodied hands dripped down his face and you shook your head, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping most of it from his face. Tim’s eyes opened slowly and his hands moved away so you could clean up at least that much, at least enough to stop seeing the worst possible outcome. And though you felt a rage like none other, you kept your hands steady, you kept them gentle, just enough to try to calm Tim down without saying anything that would make him more scared. 

“Why do you even bother, (Y/N)?” You heard Batman speak behind you, and before you could turn back to him, Dick took your shoulders and pushed you away.

“Let’s go, you need to cool off,” he says quietly.

“I need to help Tim!”

“Alfred will help him.”

“In that case someone has to pull Batman back to reality!” You tried to shrug Dick off, but his grip was firm. “Let go, Dick! Don’t pretend you don’t agree with me!”

“Let’s take a walk, (Y/N),” he insists, urging you out of the cave.

“Am I so wrong, Dick?!”

“Let’s go,” he keeps ushering you, “I’ll deal with Bruce.”

“You’ll deal with him?” You pushed away from him, you were just steps away from the outside. “Oh! Right! You’ll deal with him… the prodigal son,” you huffed. “Go figure, the kid he listens to is the one he chose and not the one he had,” you snarked and Dick’s expression steeled.

“Don’t say it like that.”

“But it’s exactly that and you know it,” you shot back. “When dad found out I was a weak kid he picked you up instead to train as his protege.”

“That’s not how it happened and you know it!”

“Try all you want to escape him, you never will.” Dick clenches his jaw, holding back something that probably, no, definitely would’ve destroyed your relationship, and he took a deep breath.

“Let’s go,” his voice was softer as he ushers you out again and you both take a step into the cold. “Take a deep breath, (Y/N).” You did so. Both of you were quiet, looking over the cliffside.

“I’m sorry, Dick,” you said quietly, your voice just barely over the sound of waves hitting the rock around you.

“It’s fine, you’re mad, I get it,” Dick nods. “You never get mad, this is just all that pent-up anger.”

“Yeah…” you took a deep breath again. “How the hell did you two do it?” You asked him. Dick shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Do what?”

“All of it.”

“You know, we came home much worse before.”

“But I never saw it.”

“We didn’t let you.”

“I was so young at the time, I get it.”

“You’re still young now.”

“And he’s younger.” Dick didn’t respond.

“Being a vigilante… it’s not easy work, (Y/N),” he says. “We get battered, bruised, and beaten, but we do it for a good cause. If we don’t do it, then who will?” He asks.

“I know, I understand it when you say it, but I can’t understand him,” you looked at him.

“And I respect that, I do,” Dick nods.

“Who even is he, anymore?” You looked away from him. Again, Dick didn’t respond.

“You were pretty harsh in there, (Y/N),” he says.

“Was I?”

“Jason would be proud,” Dick laughs. You didn’t. “You know Bruce is… he’s on his own train, and we’re just a couple cars behind him,” Dick says. “He has his own way of doing things, he cares in his own way, too. You know he wouldn’t let Tim die, he’s not going to put him in a situation he knew he wouldn’t be able to save him in.”

“I… I think I know that,” you shuddered.

“What happened with Jason was because of a myriad of factors that were out of all our control. It’s no one’s fault,” he looks at you, but you were looking to the city. "(Y/N)? What are you thinking right now?"

"I just..." your voice trailed off and your eyes were still distant. You hadn't realized it, you hadn't really thought of it until now. “I miss my dad.”

~

2022

“What do you think, Zee? Can you find them?” Dick’s brows furrowed together while Zatanna ran back the camera footage from the cave earlier. They played the footage in slow motion so she could run through every detail.

“What I can definitely say is that it’s 100% magic,” she says. Constantine leans over, eyes squinted.

“Yup, I agree.”

“Can you back off? You smell like alcohol,” Zatanna grimaces.

“Hey, I’m here to help too!”

“I didn’t ask for your help, you were just in the room when Dick asked me to come over and you followed,” Zatanna groaned.

“Contrary to popular belief, I was (Y/N)’s favorite,” Constantine grinned.

“Okay, that’s definitely not true,” Dick frowns.

“It is! I’d do a lil party trick for her every time I saw her when she was a lass,” Constantine defends. Zatanna and Dick share a look of disbelief before they go back to the tapes.

“Well?” Bruce approaches from behind them. “What are we thinking?”

“Aside from the obvious magic?” Constantine lights his cigarette.

“What do you think?” Bruce asks.

“Roll it back a few seconds, Zee, right before the bright light,” Constantine leans against the console, and when Bruce glares at him he straightens again. “Zoom in on the watch.”

“Here, we have a reconstruction of it here,” Dick taps the screen to the side and brings up the holographic image of the watch. Constantine swipes it around while observing the emblem etched onto it.

“The hint is here,” he says while pointing to it. “Trace back this emblem and you’ll find your boys.”

“How do you know for sure?”

“There are very few kinds of magic that you can use on an object like this,” he says. He opens the watch and the watch face deconstructs into layers in the hologram. “And when you look at the make of the watch, it explains much more.”

“Look at the hands, there’s eight of them, and with each hand is a corresponding circle with a different engraving around the circumference,” Zatanna says, “it’s a device used for transport, to put it bluntly. And if the watch hands aren’t set to a certain one, it can be inferred that a device used for transport would have its default settings set to where it’s originally from, so if we trace back the source we’ll be able to find Tim and Jason,” she says.

“What she—” Constantine is cut off by his phone ringing. “Hold on, gotta get this,” he picks it up and walks to a quiet part of the cave.

“Think you can give it a shot?” Dick asks. Zatanna hums.

“Sure,” she shrugs. “Gnirb kcab Mit dna Nosaj!” Though there were sparks, nothing happened. “I didn’t think that would work. Let me try something else. Gnirb em eht hctaw!” In seconds, a bright light forms between her hands and then the sounds of clinks and clatters of watch pieces falling to the ground are heard.

“Oh, great, they broke it,” Dick wasn’t surprised when he picked it up.

“But if there’s residual energy on it then I can trace it,” Dick places the pieces on the console right as Constantine returns.

“Alright, let’s work a deal,” he looks at Bruce. “I help you find your four missing kids if you help me with mine.”

“Tell me more,” Bruce invites him to continue.

“An old protege of mine has been having some trouble with monsters, if you and your detective brains can help him and I figure out what’s going on, Zee and I will help you look for your kids.”

“Hey! Who said I agreed to this?!”

“I thought you had a soft spot for Liverpool,” Constantine shrugs.

“Oh! If it’s him who needs help then by all means,” Zatanna smiles, remembering the younger boy fondly.

“Well, there you have it, should be quick, might end up just being an extermination job, but he won’t stop bitching about it, so what’s the plan?” Bruce and Dick look at each other. They’d been trying for weeks now trying to find a lead of some sort, with Constantine and Zatanna’s help they’d be able to figure it out much faster.

“Fine,” Bruce shakes Constantine’s hand and, at the snap of a finger, a portal opens up next to Constantine.

“Then let’s start our search,” he invites the two to enter first. “You coming, Zee?”

“I’ll follow, I want to study this watch first.”

“Smart move,” Dick says.

“I’ll see you all soon,” she watches the portal close.

The three men land in what looks like a small village. People milled about and kept to themselves while they moved about the streets.

“So where is this protege of yours?” Bruce asks.

“Beats me,” Constantine shrugs.

“What do you mean?!” Dick shouts.

“Might’ve landed in the wrong town,” Constantine looks around. “‘Scuse me, love, which way to the Capital?” He pulls aside a maiden. He cheeks tinge pink before pointing down the road.

“You’ll get there in three days if you walk, hail a cab, they’ll be able to take you there faster,” she says.

“Will do, thanks,” Constantine holds his hand up. “You guys have cash right?”

“Who do you think I am?” Bruce asks. Constantine busies himself looking for a cab while Bruce and Dick stuck together, looking around the village with a hawk’s eye.

“Whoops! Sorry, mister!” A kid accidentally collides into Bruce and runs off. Bruce checks his pockets quickly, feeling everything still inside, and soon the duo notice the grouping of children.

“Wonder what the fuss is about,” Dick stretches slightly to try to see what everyone’s looking at. “Hey, what’s everyone so excited about?” Dick asks one of the newspaper boys.

“You don’t know?” The kid asks.

“Nope,” Dick answers with a shrug.

“Dang, mister, are you living under a rock?!” He hands him a newspaper and Dick skims through it. “The Dark Knight is coming!” Bruce turned his attention to the newspaper kid. “We’ll be saved from the daemons!”

“The Dark Knight?” Dick asks, catching on to Bruce’s attention.

“Duh! Captain Wayne!”

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[mokulule]

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached 6

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|Part 4|Part 5

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Warnings: angst/depression and canon typical violence

Bruce sighed, absently feeling the air on his hands folded in front of his face. He stared unseeingly ahead. His frowned deeply, at a loss of what to do. Worry picked at his self control.

Something was up with Jason. Ever since the other night, something had happened between the thief and Jason. It had left him unsettled and off balance, that much was obvious. They’d all been able to see it.

Now, today, Jason had lost control. He’d been agitated of course, but Bruce hadn’t expected the outburst. Jason was usually good at managing his anger these days, at least in the family. He didn’t get physical with them anymore in anger. Except today Jason had suddenly pulled him up by the shirt, and Bruce had honestly expected him to punch him. Jason had shaken it off, but then he’d fled.

The urge to move, to do something, itched at him. He wanted to get answers, but confronting Jason was out of the question. Their truce was fragile, and it seemed every time he spoke to Jason he said the wrong thing. He didn’t know what to do except control the urge to go after his son. He couldn’t fight his demons for him. He could only try not to make it worse.

And so he sat there, staring, unseeing.

Dick’s footsteps, came down the stairs, easily recognizable: light and almost dancing to a rhythm only he could hear, skipping a step every now and then.

“Hey B, thought you were going golfing with the mayor, keeping up the old appearances and all that” he greeted brightly, as ever immune to Bruce’s mood. Or maybe Alfred sent him down to deal with him, that was also an option.

“Oh I love these,” Dick reached forward over Bruce’s shoulder to grab a protein bar from the backpack. He opened it and started to eat it without hesitation.

“Dick,” Bruce sighed, “this is evidence.”

Dick snorted and leaned on the console so he could look at Bruce. “You’re serious.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow.

Dick snorted again, of course Bruce was serious, then he pulled the backpack over and started rooting through it. Much to Bruce’s exasperation he opened another protein bar.

“Dick, they could be drugged.”

“As if you’d have let me take the first one if that was the case,” Dick mumbled around the mouthful of granola. Bruce mentally conceded the point.

“Anyways,” Dick swallowed and continued, reading the name tag on the inside of the backpack, “Danny Fenton, who’s that?”

Bruce sighed.

“The thief.”

“The Ghost!?” Dick looked up in excitement, “so we have a name now?”

“Presumably, it may not originally have been his backpack.”

“True, doesn’t help much either does it? Danny is very common and Fenton may not be Johnson, but it’s not exactly unique.”

“I haven’t looked it up yet.”

Dick narrowed his eyes.

“This has anything to do with why you’re brooding?”

Silence stretched between them, but Dick could be surprisingly patient when he wanted to. There was no point in dragging things out, it wasn’t a secret, Dick could easily find out through the surveillance if he wanted, Bruce would rather he didn’t.

“Jason was the one who delivered the backpack.”

“Ah.” There was the worried frown Bruce would have liked to avoid. He leaned down a bit to better face Bruce.

“You had a fight?” The question was posed carefully, softly, not betraying any inkling what he thought of that, in a way to gently pry the answer from Bruce, but Bruce knew his eldest son well enough to know he was already mentally running damage control options. That was Dick, always trying to keep their family together tooth and nail. There was a soft pang of appreciation in his chest he couldn’t articulate, instead he focused on the problem at hand.

“He’s convinced the thief needs help, I don’t actually disagree.”

Dick sat back in realization, his eyes flickered to the backpack and its sorry spoils.

“But he could still be working for someone,” Dick recited with a sigh, it was an old lesson. One he knew Jason wouldn’t have appreciated, not if he felt Bruce was dismissing his concerns. “B.”

“I know.”

Do you? Dick’s eyebrows asked, but he had the grace not to actually say it. He clapped Bruce on the shoulder instead, squeezing slightly.

“He’ll warm back up.”

“You think so?” He asked unable to look up at Dick.

“Hey,” Dick said brightly in a way that naturally drew attention to him, “we’ve come back from worse.” And there was that bright smile and that pang of appreciation was back, along with another warm feeling in his chest: hope.

“Well, I gotta get going, I’ve got work tomorrow. Just gotta grab a few more of these.”

And the feeling was gone.

“Dick.”

“We shouldn’t waste perfectly good food, B, also they’re W-Mark exclusives, they don’t have them in Blüdhaven.” He grinned, pockets stuffed with contraband. Invariably reminding Bruce of a younger version with pockets full of candy he’d been denied. Brat already knew he had won. Bruce waved him off with a sigh.

Dick practically skipped towards the stairs. Then he paused.

“Oh and B, if I was you, I’d check the phone at the bottom of the bag. It’s not a brand I recognize.”

With that he was off.

Bruce stared after him. Pride warred with annoyance. He’d been so absorbed in his thoughts he hadn’t even noticed Dick checking out the bag more thoroughly than the cursory look he himself had done when Jason had handed it to him.

He grabbed the bag and rooted around a bit, and just as Dick had said, there was a phone.

He pulled it out, and turned it over in his hands. It was made from dark blue plastic. The logo on the back, a stylized V in front of a globe, wasn’t one he recognized. It looked old and scuffed, had actual buttons and a jarringly small screen when you were used to modern smartphones.

It was also out of power.

With how old it looked, it was unlikely cordless charging was an option. He looked at the bottom edge where there was an actual mini headphone jack, along with what he assumed was the charging port - it wasn’t a type he recognized.

He frowned and got up. He wouldn’t be too late for his meeting with the mayor if he left now, not something he couldn’t brush off as eccentric forgetfulness at least.

He could drop the phone off at Tim’s on the way. Tim would get the phone working one way or another.

Oo o oO

Danny stayed underneath the pavement long after the not-ghost had left. The feeling of almost giving in was a crawling like ants underneath his skin. The threat of almost capture was like a noose around his neck - if they captured him, if they managed to contain him, he would never get home.

Eventually the bone deep tiredness of using his powers too much hit him, and he dragged himself back to his haunt, invisibly and intangibly, because he’d had much too much excitement today. He was raw and empty inside when he dropped onto his blanket pile and rolled up. He would get food some other day. Never mind that he was completely out. It wouldn’t end his existence, just weaken him. Ghosts at the core ran on willpower, and Danny wanted to go home.

A small squeak and rustle, had him opening his eyes a crack and turning his head to look to the far side of the room. There the rat was going his trash, the packaging probably still smelled like food.

He huffed and closed his eyes again. If he got truly desperate he could always eat the rat - It wouldn’t be the worst thing he’d eaten.

next

Masterpost for subscription

Sorry, it's not the longest part this time, but we got to appreciate a few other characters, yay! Hope you enjoyed, cause Danny sure isn't enjoying himself.

#Sorry Danny this is what you get for being my favorite character #all misery #Jason doesn't appear in this part #He'll be there next time angsting over how Danny keeps running away from him #Jason is catnip to Danny #Danny however doesn't do recreational drugs #sorry Jay #your ghost is on another rooftop #what is this #spoilers for the next part in the tags #Moku how dare you #dp x dc #dead on main #Missed Connections #angst #cw depression #Dick Grayson is a good detective #can we please appreciate him #let's try to ignore that he was eating Danny's stolen food #in Dick's defense the stolen food was already stolen #don't waste food #Bruce is trying to be a good dad

[unmotivatedwrit3r]

One in Eleven Million (final chapter)

damian wayne x reader x jon kent

(A/N): And we have reached the end! Thank you to everyone who has been following this story and I hope the ending was worth the wait. I also wrote at least some of this and the last chapter while delayed at a train station/on the train so any offhand references I make to either of those things are because of the haha.

And happy new year!

Series masterlist can be found here.

warnings: anxiety, train stations, small amount of cursing

wc: ~1400

~~

Jon blinked awake to Damian tapping him on the shoulder. 

“Huh?” 

“We’re almost there,” he said, nodding out the window. Outside, the scenery had changed from the green of Pennsylvania to the cloudy skyscraper city of Gotham. “Alfred’s meeting us at the station. I’ve already asked and he’ll drive them home if they’re comfortable.” 

Jon looked over at you. He couldn’t remember if you or he had fallen asleep first, but he felt privileged that you did at all. Sure, some of it might have been the exhaustion of the last day, but he had a feeling you wouldn’t have fallen asleep if you didn’t trust them to be there and wake you up. Based on your complaints about the station there, there was no way you wanted to end up in Newark. Or New York. 

Jon shook you gently. You opened your eyes, confused, then sat quickly upright. 

“Shit, I fell asleep? I didn’t mean to.”

“If it’s any consolation, so did I,” Jon shrugged. 

“I didn’t mean to miss the last hour,” you argued. 

“Last hour of what?” Damian stood up in the aisle, pulling Jon’s carry-on out from where he’d tucked it in. Jon grabbed his backpack then helped you pull your suitcase upright. 

“Of—thanks Jon—of time left with you guys.” You winced. Maybe that was too honest. Tugging your backpack over your shoulders, you followed Jon towards the exit at the end of the car. Damian stopped at the car door. You braced yourself with your suitcase to avoid toppling over as the train shuddered on the tracks. It really did feel like the plane turbulence from earlier. 

“This stop, Gotham Station,” the loudspeaker declared. One thing airplanes have going for them, you thought, better sound systems. The train’s announcements were barely audible. “Doors will open on the right side of the train. Please watch your step.” Anything further was indecipherable under the burbling of the speaker. 

“Wait, why did you say the last hour?” Jon asked as the three of you took the escalator up to the station's main area. 

“I have no idea how to contact you after this.” You pulled your suitcase over the lip of the escalator with a tug and continued on. Despite the amount of public transportation you’ve taken, Damian seemed to know the station better than you. You followed him as he weaved through the groups of people sprinkled around the area, Jon right behind. 

Damian stopped just outside a side entrance, and you moved around to his other side to avoid blocking the door. Jon followed. 

“We do all have phone numbers,” Damian suggested pulling out his phone. You assumed he was texting whoever was picking up him and Jon. 

“Oh, duh!” 

Jon’s excitement made you smile. The thought had crossed your mind earlier, but you’d dismissed it as a non-starter. You felt a little silly for that now. 

Jon’s phone was already open to a new contact sheet when he handed it to you. You weren’t sure if you’d ever actually given them your last name or if they remembered ever seeing it on your train ticket or boarding pass, but there was bound to be someone between Gotham and Metropolis that shared your first name, so you added it in anyway. Jon took it back from you and started typing. 

Your phone buzzed straightaway. You pulled it out of your pocket, smiling. 

“hi :)” the first message read. It was sent to you and a third number. Then “it’s jon”

“Huh,” you mused, reading it. “I’ve never seen anyone spell it like that before. That’s cool.”

You unlocked your phone, opened it to the group chat, and held it out to Damian. 

“Would you mind? So I don’t misspell your name?”

Damian muttered an assent and took it from you. He returned it with both contacts filled out. 

“Oh, great, thanks.” You chuckled at Jon’s contact. The name, instead of the Jon offered by the initial text, had been filled out as “Jonathan Kent.” Damian’s name, you were proud to say, was spelled the way you imagined it was. The last name was a funny coincidence, you thought, considering he lived in Gotham. 

“Wayne?” You asked, about to make a teasing joke. 

“Like Bruce Wayne, yes.” Damian said, carefully watching your reaction. 

“Like ‘Wayne Enterprises’ Wayne?” He nodded. “Holy shit. Wow, okay, I didn’t expect that. Wow.” You couldn’t read the expression on his face. Some part of you wondered if he was waiting for you to make a comment about his money or his father. 

“Why did you take the train with me?” You asked instead. The concrete was rough beneath your shoes, a noticeable contrast from the smoothness of airport flooring. “You could have easily had someone pick you up. Pick both of you up. So why–?” 

“Because we wanted to,” Jon answered simply. 

“I am not in the habit of making,” Damian hesitated, “friends and then leaving them behind.” 

“Yeah,” Your heart thudded loudly in your chest. “I’m glad we agree on that.” 

An unfamiliar black car pulled up beside you. You took a couple steps back. It was nice, but anything unfamiliar, nice or not, wasn’t worth the risk. 

Damian, on the other hand, moved in closer. He opened the passenger door and said something to the driver then turned back towards you. 

“Do you want us to drop you off at home?”

You hesitated for a moment. Jon was looking hopefully at you. Damian’s “friends” echoed in your head. 

“Yeah,” you agreed. “That would be great.” 

Jon’s face split into a grin. The corner of Damian’s lips quirked up. There was some warm feeling in your chest at the fact that you caught it. You smiled back. 

Alfred Pennyworth, as you learned his name was, stopped the car right outside of your building less than thirty minutes later. 

“I’ll get your suitcase,” Jon offered, hopping out of the car as you collected the rest of your things. 

“Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth.” 

“You are very welcome,” he answered. 

You shut the door behind you, now face to face with Jon. 

“Is a hug okay?” You asked him. “I’m not sure if that’s a thing you do but-“

Jon gives good hugs, you decided immediately. You could feel the weight and warmth of his arms where they circled your shoulders. 

“I’ll text you, okay?” He let go, hands moving to shove in his pockets. “I’ll take a picture of Metropolis when I get home and send it.” 

You smiled at him; there was something concrete to look forward to. Damian came around the back of the car. 

“You’re not a hug person, right?” You asked him. He shrugged. 

“Only for certain people.” 

You nodded, oddly disappointed. Damian opened his arms. 

“Are you sure?” You asked him. He nodded and you let him set the pace, tightening your grip only when he did. Damian was a good hugger too, you realized. You wondered if the older brother you heard of hours ago on the plane and Jon both had something to do with that. 

“You guys know where I live now,” you adjusted your backpack over your shoulder and pulled up the handle on your suitcase. “So come visit sometime, okay?” Your gaze wandered over to Jon. “Well if you’re in town, I guess. Metropolis isn’t exactly walking distance.” 

Jon chuckled. 

“I’m here pretty often.”

Damian scoffed a quiet laugh. 

“We will. And keep in touch.”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “You guys too.”

You gave a final wave before heading into your building. A cloud of melancholy followed you inside. You ignored it, pulling dirty clothes from your suitcase to toss in the hamper before heading to take a shower. 

Hair dripping but finally clean, you flopped onto your bed, reaching for your phone. Three messages were waiting for you. You answered the one from your parent, asking if you’d gotten home safe. The second was an email. You’d deal with that later, after you got some sleep. The third was a picture from Damian. 

He didn’t even make it through my shower, the attached message read. On your screen, Jon was lying on a couch underneath Damian’s large dog. He was fast asleep. 

You laughed and replied, then set your phone down. A nap would definitely throw off your sleep schedule, you knew, but Gotham was nocturnal anyway. You slept the afternoon away.

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x reader x jonathan kent #damian wayne x gender neutral reader #damian wayne x reader x jon kent #jon kent x reader #jon kent imagine #jon kent fanfiction #jonathan kent imagine #jonathan kent #emerson writes sometimes #one in eleven million

[devilfic]

❝right place, right time❞

IV. the hierophant.

parts: previously / next plot: you ask bruce to take his shirt off. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: surgeon!reader, secret identities, slow burn, emotional hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, alfred’s a little mean but he’s just being protective, you’re making serious life choices on four hours of sleep and a dream, you’re getting warmer, mentions of guns (none used). words: 7.3k.

a/n: this one is longer than usual and it is largely due to the fact that the last half of this fic came to me at six in the morning and I deigned to part with it. enjoy!

You get about as far as the lobby before your confidence wanes. The woman behind the desk has the kind of look that fits in a place like this: pristine brows, glossed lips, nary a flyaway not tamed by gel and a boar-bristle brush. You realize, quite belatedly, that you stick out like a sore thumb. 

Even with a phone tucked between shoulder and cheek, her stare pins you down and tells you to stay where you are. You listen because, frankly, you don’t know where else to go.

She’s in no hurry to finish her call, but it’s all too soon before she’s fixing you with that stare again. You’re already nervous. “Can I help you?” She—Alexandra, you gather from her name tag—doesn’t blink.

You feel ridiculous saying it out loud, “I’m here to see Bruce Wayne.”

Alexandra’s head tips to the side, examining you more closely. Perhaps looking for your audacity, you think, because she doesn’t look too keen on helping you with that request. “He sent me flowers.” You add on, lamely.

Finally she blinks, unimpressed, “Did he now?”

You feel unnerved when you hand it over and she doesn’t immediately take it. Eventually, after your arm has begun to shake, she plucks it from you.

It takes her but a few seconds for her entire expression to change. The next time she looks up at you, her stare is curious, memory jogged. “You were on the news, the doctor from Gotham General,” Alexandra recalls, “did you have an appointment?”

“No. I uh... well, I just... the delivery person dropped these off a half hour ago. I just wanted to thank him.”

Alexandra’s face softens. “I’m sorry, I can’t let anyone up without a prior appointment. I can relay a message, however. Or give you his office’s number.”

You wouldn’t be seeing him today, would you? You’d come here on an adrenaline high, a little angry and a little woozy on pain meds. You hadn’t even been thinking when you’d left your apartment, had turned off your phone as soon as your mother started calling, and now you were on the other side of the city hoping to see the most important man in Gotham. Of course you should’ve called. He left you his number and you thought you could just walk right into his office.

But then again, he’d walked right into yours. Why couldn’t you do the same?

Behind the desk, one of the (heavily armed) security guards is keeping an eye on you. That... answered your question. Maybe you’d have to make that call after all.

You’re about to do just that, thanking Alexandra for her time, when you hear your name being called from a few feet away.

You recognize him in an instant. The weathered, greying face of Bruce Wayne’s right hand man is approaching at impeccable speed, nearly making you stumble back to keep the distance, “Mr. Pennyworth.” You breathe the name at the same time as Alexandra, who goes a step further and stands to acknowledge him. You don’t think it’s customary with the way his quick smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

You, on the other hand, get no smile at all, “What a surprise to find you here. I hope the flowers were received well? We were unable to gather if you’re prone to allergies.”

You wonder how he would’ve gotten that information without asking you first, “No- I mean yes, they were fine. I was actually coming to deliver my thanks.”

Alfred straightens at this. It’s not hard, with all your experience, to recognize a veteran when you see one. He’s got the determined, flawless gait along with the endless eyes (the ones that go on forever with stories and horrors not so far beyond your imagination). He’s also got the immovability of one. You understand why he’s Bruce Wayne’s right hand man. If a bomb was unable to take him out, you doubted much else could. Not even if you asked nicely. “That’s very kind of you. I’ll have to pass your thanks on to Master Wayne.”

Master? It’s not so out of place, situated in his West London accent, but it does throw you off in 21st century America. Everything about him read as other than, and yet you felt the most out of place in this conversation. “Actually, I was hoping if I could see him. I’d like to tell him in person. If that’s alright.”

Alfred’s eyebrow twitches upwards, “Does Mr. Wayne know you’re coming?”

You flush. You really should’ve called first. “No. He doesn’t. I thought-” that you’d all make an exception for me, “I was in a hurry to get here. I didn’t even think to call.”

“Mr. Wayne is a very busy man.”

“I know, I’m sorry. Truly. I just really need to talk to him.”

“Perhaps you can come back another day. I’ll be happy to schedule that with you, if Mr. Pennyworth is needed elsewhere.” Alexandra interjects. There was no way you could tell her or Alfred that if you had more time to think about what you were about to do, you might as well ask to be put down.

Mr. Pennyworth extends his arm, bringing his wrist to his eyeline where he reads the time on his watch. You glance at your phone and realize it’s just a few minutes after one. “Actually, Alexandra, there’s no need. I believe Mr. Wayne has just finished his workout and should be headed back to the penthouse to rest for the afternoon. I don’t believe he’d mind our guest coming up for a chat.”

You cut your eyes to Alexandra, then back to Alfred who’s now looking at you. Either you were really lucky, or there was something you didn’t know going on here.

Regardless, Alfred turns on the spot and begins to walk away.

With one last “thank you” thrown at Alexandra, you head off after him, slowing to a more graceful pace as employees pass pointed looks at you. You shrink closer to Alfred, then further behind him when he casts an inquisitive glance in your direction.

He leads you around the corner, down a long hallway where the suits and ties grow fewer and fewer. A few more turns and you both end up in the elevator alone.

The silence is only cut through every few seconds by the occasional ding! letting you know you’ve passed another floor. This was all starting to feel just a little too easy.

After the first five floors, Alfred speaks, “I trust you’re recovering well?”

“Yes, actually. I’m lucky. We all were.”

Alfred hums, “Yes. It is rather lucky having the Batman around.”

You turn to him, curious, “You’re a fan?”

For the first time in your presence, the old man actually cracks a real smile. It’s faint, but realer than the one he’d given Alexandra. “A critic.”

“A critical fan.”

“I think he’s done a better job taking care of the people in this city than some, though his methods could use refining. And you?”

“I might be biased given that he’s saved my life and all, but I’m a fan,” you wonder if you should tell him. Then, in line with your other decisions thus far, choose to do so anyway, “I actually got to tell him that. When we first met. Before the... hospital. Patched up a nasty bullet wound for him.”

For some reason, Alfred doesn’t look as surprised as you were hoping for. You’d have to find another way to impress him. “Is that right?” His gaze becomes more pointed, “Think he was looking out for you?”

It sounds so absurd to you at first that you laugh, but even thinking about it for a second, it isn’t that absurd. It’s easy, even, to come to that conclusion. You’d saved his life. He’d saved yours. Perhaps he’d just wanted to do away with owing you, but you know that isn’t quite right, “I think he’s just a good person. It was just-”

“Lucky.” He finishes for you, smile gone now. You get the feeling that he knows something you don’t.

Before you can be so bold as to question him about it, he starts talking again, “If I may, Master Wayne informed me of his interest in you prior to his job offer. And it’s my understanding that you politely declined. Now, it’s none of my business as to why you turned down his offer, that was your decision and he must respect that, and it’s neither my business why you’ve insisted on coming here after the fact, but I do want to make one thing clear: as Bruce’s butler, I have seen many come and go through these halls with intentions I’m more than privy to. I know when someone is looking to gain something from him. This is the first time I’ve not been sure what to predict. It’s not clear to me what you plan to get out of this arrangement, but I request that whatever you do, you do not make me regret allowing you past these doors.”

The elevator comes to a full stop, the final ding! alerting you that you’re one floor away from the penthouse. A mechanized voice requests over the speakers to “present identification”. Alfred does not move. He stares at you, awaiting your response.

You don’t know whether to feel angry or sheepish. You stand here in little more than sweatpants and ratty sneakers, shaking like a purse dog where at any moment, someone could come around the corner and put a bullet between your eyes for saying the wrong thing. In fact, no one needed to come around any corners. You’d seen the outline of the 9mm under Alfred’s vest on the way to the elevator. You had little more than your keys on you for self-defense.

You weren’t a threat. You were barely anything without a scalpel in your hand.

And yet this military man with more bullets than you’d have seconds to escape him thinks you enough of a problem to lecture you. God, alright, you’re a little angry.

“If I may,” you start, “I have no clue what Bruce wants with me either. And frankly, I’m more worried about that than you should be about me. I just want to talk to him. If you’re lucky, you’ll never have to see me again.”

He holds your gaze a little longer, wondering if you’ll crack. It takes very deep, measured breaths to keep from doing so.

You don’t know how long the two of you just stand there, but eventually Alfred touches a screen on the wall with his thumb that seems to be the magic password. The voice from before confirms as much, jolting the elevator the last few feet before spilling the two of you out into the penthouse. Alfred says nothing more, simply guiding you down another hallway, up some stairs, and into a room larger than the upper half of your apartment complex.

You don’t have time to pause at the one-of-a-kind art on the wall, nor the shelves lined with books of all languages and disciplines. You don’t even have time to examine the city outside the window (from what you glimpse, the view is beautiful).

You stand out in the open beneath twin winding staircases either side of you, leading up into a dark unknown. You feel like a child staring up at the ceiling, breathing in the gloomy castle. It’s worlds away from your quaint unit stuck in the 80s.

“He should be here,” is the first thing Alfred has said to you since the elevator, “I’ll just be a moment.”

You watch the old man wander up one of the staircases, calling for Bruce. Without anyone watching you, you’re free to explore. And really, what if this was the last time you’d ever step foot in this place?

The first thing you approach is the large table in the middle of the room. There’s a W engraved in the wood, polished to a shine, surrounded by abandoned teacups and loose papers you try not to look too closely at.

The next thing you approach is a small study off to the side where more books live, but your stomach drops when you chance a glance out into the city. You’ve been this high up before, but you couldn’t imagine this being the first thing you see every morning. You could see most of Gotham from this high. Every skyscraper, every dingy alleyway, every car and boat and train from miles around. This far above, it was no wonder they called the Waynes royalty.

You also couldn’t imagine the money it took to build this place. It was cheaper back before anyone in this building had been born, but if Bruce Wayne wanted, he could build one just like it in every major city. You can even see Gotham General from here. It’s... it makes you feel so small.

Your fingers press into the glass and leave behind prints. You doubted anyone would even notice.

You’re seconds from whipping out your phone and texting Emily a photo of the view when Alfred’s voice breaks the silence, “Master Wayne! There you are.”

Shit, he was here already?

You turn, expecting him to be at the staircase or by the front door or even by the table you’d been pondering. You don’t expect him to be just a few feet behind you, watching you watch the cityscape. The sudden closeness makes you tumble back into the window, your head thudding on the glass so loudly that you see Bruce wince.

When Alfred’s voice carries again, he’s much closer. Close enough for you to hear the displeasure in: “You have a guest.”

Alfred leaves you both alone in the study. He cites some phone calls he needs to make and swears to keep “Dory” out until the end of your meeting. You’re assured it’s just the two of you up here. As if that would calm your mounting nerves.

At the very least, Bruce looks just as unsure as you.

He puts the desk between the two of you, still standing, only now his shape has changed. In his fancy suits, he was angular, a person who parted crowds with his size. Now, here, in a t-shirt that hangs off him so loosely he looks gaunt, he looks smaller somehow. Tall and lean but smaller. Softer. It helps a little, doesn’t feel so out of place when his voice matches his demeanor, “Did you get the flowers?”

Only then do you realize that Alexandra still has the card he left you. “How do you know where I live?”

His expression turns frightened for just a moment, then softens, “Your boss called when they arrived at your office, told me you were on leave. He offered to send them to your apartment.” He takes the way your eyes narrow as you not believing him, “He didn’t tell me where. And I didn’t ask.” He hastily tacks on the last part.

Of course, he says all this as if you had lawyers on speed dial. Was it because he had something to hide?

“They were... beautiful. I can’t remember the last time someone gave me flowers.” You reply, honest, and it takes a little of the tension out of his shoulders. Yours too.

“After I saw the news, I was just glad to know you hadn’t been seriously harmed.”

“No, I was lucky. Or someone was looking out for me.” The last bit slips out without you meaning it to. When you look up to hazard Bruce’s reaction, he’s entirely impassive. Whatever got you into this penthouse convinces you to ask the next thing that comes to mind, “Do you believe in the Batman?”

You catch the genuine confusion flit across his face as he asks, “Like... the boogeyman?”

“No, I mean... do you believe- I mean he’s just a person, right? Clearly. But do you believe he’s doing something good for Gotham? Mayor Reál seems to think he’s a sign that the city has gone to shit. I know you’re a supporter of hers. I was just curious.”

“The city’s always been... shit,” he catches your eye as he reuses your wording, “I don’t think he’s a sign. I think he’s a side effect.”

“So... the city gets better and, what, Batman no more?”

“That’s the ideal.”

“I can’t imagine a Gotham that nice.”

Bruce studies you. You find it alarming how still he can be, “Do you?”

“Hm?”

“Do you believe? In the Batman?”

Why do you feel so naive when you blurt out a confident “yes”? Is it because Bruce looks skeptical? Because you realize that maybe you’re more attached to the vigilante than you should be, even if he saved your life? That maybe you’d placed all your hope for a better world in him, and if he ever failed, you’d be in for a rude awakening? All of the above was your best guess. “You didn’t answer.”

Bruce fidgets. “I don’t know.”

“That’s a cop out.” It hits you that the conversation has begun to flow on its own, the longest you’ve ever talked to Bruce. Maybe the suits were the issue after all.

“It’s... like you said: Gotham gets better, the Batman is no more. I want Gotham to get better.”

Whether he’s playing diplomat or not, it’s such a neutral stance that you begin to reevaluate what you know about Bruce Wayne. You shift the conversation to shallow waters, “Your butler is intimidating.”

“Alfred?”

“He interrogated me on the ride up here. Felt like I was being lectured by my girlfriend’s dad.”

Bruce laughs all of a sudden, even less tense. The smile that splits his stoic in two is so very different from anything you’ve seen on him so far, “I’m sorry about him, he’s protective. I hope he didn’t scare you.”

You go to say he didn’t, but then you remember the gun he’d had hidden in his slacks and reconsider, “It’s fine. He let me up here, didn’t he?” Whether he’d done so hoping this would be the last time you ever step foot in the tower or not, you would leave that unsaid. “But I didn’t come here just to thank you for the flowers or talk about Batman. There’s been something on my mind for a while. Ever since you came to offer me the job. I was too stunned to think about it then, but I’ve been meaning to ask you... why me?”

You expect to have to clarify. Bruce takes a long look at you and doesn’t ask you to, “Because you’re good at what you do.”

“There’s hundreds of talented doctors in Gotham. Millions in the world. You met me once and you wanted to put your life in my hands.”

“You’re one of those talented doctors.”

“But you... aren’t just anybody. You have to... you’ve gotta know that, right? You could have asked for anyone. I should’ve been a blip on your radar as soon as you met me. There’s no logical reason for someone with your resources to come to me, in person, and ask me to work for you.”

“Of course there is.”

“Like what?”

Frustrated, he maneuvers around the desk until it’s no longer blocking the both of you. It makes the conversation feel more personal. You don’t feel like you’re talking to the same Bruce Wayne from before, “You noticed I was hurt right away. No one else did.”

“It feels like more than that.” And it does. All of this. Every interaction has felt like something bubbling under the surface, waiting to break skin and bleed out for everyone to see. You keep getting that feeling that you know. Bruce even looks like he knows. Alfred, too. But you’re the only one who can’t quite name it.

It doesn’t help that for a second, you think Bruce is going to say more. He doesn’t. He schools his expression into stoicism again. You find that you don’t really like that look on him, can’t stand not having that glimpse of someone human now that you’ve been spoiled on it.

He takes one step after the other, assertive. You feel like you should step out of the way once he’s right in front of you, when the fresh scent of green apple invades your senses and you notice that the soft strands on his head are still damp. You realize then that you’d probably caught him fresh out of the shower, that it wasn’t just the lack of suit that had changed him. You realize too that his knuckles are still bruised, only now the flesh looks like it’d been freshly broken recently.

You’re so focused on the injury that you startle looking into his eyes for answers. For a shining, blinding second... you’d seen someone else.

“I wasn’t trying to change your mind. The flowers were a courtesy. Nothing more.”

You believe him. He’s not acting. He’s so earnest you don’t even think he’s breathing as he waits for your reply.

You’d come here in a haze and you’re finally sobering up, but you wouldn’t sound like it from what you say next, “And if I changed my mind?”

The stoicism melts. Bruce exhales a heavy breath.

It starts to catch up with you that you still have no idea if the offer is even still on the table. “If you haven’t already found someone else,” comes your buffer, trying not to let embarrassment seep into your words, “and if you’d still like me to-”

“Okay.” His answer is sure, final. His certainty reassures you in a strange way. You still feel way in over your head but God be damned, you got this far.

“Okay. And I have some conditions. I’ll still be working at Gotham General, you’ll just be my priority. And I want to do a physical exam, figure out what I’m working with.”

“Whatever you need. It’s yours.”

You glance back down at Bruce’s hands. He needs no convincing. You think back to that day when you first met him: the limp in his walk, the barely contained pain in his expression, his excuse that had felt more practiced than your speech. If you recalled, he’d favored his left side, which would put his sprain just about...

Your hand is touching his waist before you even realize that it’s left your side. Through the shirt, you feel the muscles that are deceptively concealed. No matter how much softer he looked like this, there was power coiled beneath his skin.

To your surprise, it’s you who reacts first.

You yank your hand away and put one whole step between the two of you—which does nothing. You didn’t recall being this close before you touched him. Just how out of your mind were you?

You take stock of Bruce’s expression. If he had looked any sort of way when you’d been so bold as to touch him, you’d missed it. You summon enough strength to ask, before you could throw yourself out of those beautiful windows behind you, “Can I use your restroom?”

You don’t know what you’re doing, you don’t know what you’re doing, you don’t know what you’re doing.

It’d be better to think something more positive, something that would get you to release your death grip on the sink, but you’re Icarus and you can smell something burning. You can also hear voices outside; Alfred’s, unmistakably, and Bruce’s which would be easier to hear if you pressed your ear up to the door. No doubt, they were discussing you.

Your palms are so slick that they start to slip and you have to run them under water. You don’t even want to think about drying your hands on the towel hanging beside the mirror, quality visible even to your eye, but if you wiped them on your sweatpants, everyone would know.

Your second idea is to check your phone, swiping through the missed calls and messages begging for you to have some sense and call your mother back. You check the weather (clear skies for the night), pull up pictures of kittens, scroll online until you’ve seen every news report and viral video on mute and have no excuse to hide anymore, because the only thing worse than having a borderline panic attack in a rich person’s bathroom was the rich person thinking you were absolutely destroying their plumbing.

You take a few breaths, decide against splashing your face, and begin to turn the knob.

The hallway you’d been abandoned in is far enough away from the main part of the house that you can’t see Alfred and Bruce, even if their voices carry fine. Everything about the penthouse was stately, old money etched into the deep honeys of the wood and warm lamps casting more shadows than light. Any windows on this side of the house are covered with heavy drapery, blocking what little sunlight the city allowed in the waking hours. It’s easier to imagine that you’re not sixty stories up this way.

You can still hear Alfred and Bruce talking as you drift in the opposite direction.

There are a few doors down this way, past the restroom, all doors shut and imposing enough to keep you from taking peeks inside. Outside one of the doors at the end of the hall, you do catch a whiff of clean linen from under the door. The laundry room, maybe? You recall Alfred smelling the same.

On your way back, you look back down the stairs you’d come up earlier and spot an old-timey landline with a notepad and a pen beside it. Chancing a closer look, you see a note with something scribbled across it.

Dory,

Call about the leak. Tomorrow at the latest. Preferably before evening. Bruce won’t be home.

There was that “Dory” again. Was she the maid? The one Alfred promised to keep busy?

“...it has nothing to do with you.”

For the first time, Bruce’s voice carries out into the hall ringing clear. Alfred scoffs, tone bitter, “No, by all means. Bring a stranger home. Give them a key to the place, too, while you’re at it. You might as well rip the bandaid off in one go. I’m sure that won’t be a liability.”

You carefully ascend the staircase again, sticking close to the walls. You strain to hear without drawing any attention to yourself.

“You wanted this, Alfred. You were the one telling me I couldn’t do this alone.”

“But not... bloody like this. Look, this has never just been about you- and don’t you give me that look. I’ve stood by your side since you were a child. Since you were born. And like it or not, what you do has consequences far beyond yourself. When you’re reckless, who do you think’s gonna make sure your mess is taken care of?”

It’s when you slip around the corner that the two come into view, warring voices echoing off the walls no matter how quiet they tried to be, “I’ve never asked you to clean up after me.”

“But you’ve needed it, haven’t you? I’ve done alright, haven’t I? And all I’ve asked of you is to be careful.” From your vantage point, you can see Bruce’s face twist with determination. At the same time, Alfred’s has softened. You get the strange feeling that this isn’t entirely about you after all. “As your butler-”

“As Alfred.”

“...I’m always keeping my eyes open for you, and I’d appreciate it if... if you could keep your eyes open for you too. And mind the overlap. Lest your nights become your days.”

The silence is deafening. Even worse, you realize a second too late that their spat has come to an end because they both turn to where you stand in the archway, clinging to it to hide. Alfred gives you one hard look, forcing out pleasantries, “I trust the amenities were to your liking?”

Your mind blanks for a moment, still stuck on what exactly they’d been yelling about, “Oh, yes. It’s lovely. All of it, the whole place.”

The soldier gives a firm nod. “Bruce tells me you’ve reconsidered. I’m happy to hear it.”

Right. So much for him being lucky.

Before you can muster up some way to curb the tension, Alfred excuses himself from the room, going back where you’d came. Moments later, you hear a door shut a bit too loudly. Bruce hovers several feet away, conflicted. Somehow, this is even worse than the first time he’d left you two alone.

It becomes fairly clear after a while that neither of you know where to go from here. Were you to pretend you didn’t hear all of that? Pretend that Alfred’s anger wasn’t, at least in part, directed at you?

This was all starting to feel too much like a minefield to maneuver. Perhaps all three of you would sleep on this tonight and wake up in your right minds, but for now, all you could do was hope to God this didn’t bite you in the ass.

“Your conditions,” Bruce starts, “have them sent over to me. Whatever you need, I’ll make sure you have it.”

It takes a lot out of you not to jump back when he’s close enough to touch again. As if you couldn’t trust yourself not to reach for him. Or trust that he would even bother to stop you. “Of course... Mr. Wayne.”

By the time you arrive home, darkness has risen over the city and you’re back in your apartment building before your day could get even more exciting.

You’re operating on fumes, fantasizing about what’s left in your fridge from meal prep earlier this week, barely sound enough to get your key into your mailbox.

You feel a presence nearby as you’re sifting through bills and junk. Her scent (that of cinnamon and myrrh) gives her away immediately, “Hey, Judith.”

The little old lady doesn’t smile at you—she rarely does, severe as she is devout—the crow’s feet about her eyes fold in on each other as she assesses you, “You should apologize to your parents.”

You don’t mean to. You usually have better manners than this, but you can’t hold back your sudden, audible groan. Even Judith is startled. “They’ll get over it.”

“They’re worried for you.”

“Did they tell you to tell me that?”

“You need to be careful, dear. Strange spirits are drawn to you.” Her hand chronically trembles as it reaches into her purse. Out comes her handheld copy of the Bible, lovingly worn and dressed with tabs of all colors from her studies. You watch her pick at a neon green tab and flip the little thing open, “I’ve been praying for you ever since I saw the news. That... Batman may have saved you, but I fear you’re still in danger. I have some verses that might help you keep him out should he come looking for you again-”

Judith has never needed to care this much. On your first day moving in all those years ago, she’d struggled up a flight of stairs just to prepare you dinner and offer to show you how to get your janky dishwasher open. Your roommates had found her offputting, had turned down her offer for tea at her place, but you had gone. It’s how you found out that she’d lost her husband and only son years prior. Gunned down, wrong place wrong time. Nothing new in this city. God was all she had left.

If babying you helped her sleep at night, if praying for you gave her peace of mind, you would let her ten times over.

“He’s not a demon, I promise. He’s as much flesh and blood as you and me.”

Judith frowns, not at all convinced, “You’re not in debt to him, are you?”

You shake your head, locking your mailbox back, “We’re even, actually. I saved his life. He saved mine. We’ve nothing to do with each other anymore.” You realize that she’s dressed to head out just then. Her coat is buttoned to the neck and she’s got her beret clutched under arm while she puts away her Bible. “Got Bible study tonight? Stay safe.”

Once she fits her hat over her salt and pepper curls, she caresses your arm. Her hands hadn’t been warm in years, but they weren’t any less comforting than when you’d first felt them. “You too, dear.” Then she reaches for your keys and picks out the one she’d copied for you forever ago, “Whenever you need to, don’t hesitate.”

You watch her totter off onto the sidewalk, swept away in the waves of commuters getting off work. You hoped you’d never have to take her up on her offer.

It turns out that not only had they put your flowers in your bedroom, your parents had also taken the liberty of cleaning out your fridge. You hated that on top of all the incessant texts they’d left you since this morning, you’d be expected to break the ice with a “thank you”. You’d prolong that for as long as humanly possible, that’s for sure.

Somewhere between popping your dinner in the microwave and turning on the news, you found yourself standing at your window staring into the dark. He wasn’t there. You kind of wished he would be, though. For some reason, he was the only one you wanted to talk to.

And then, somewhere between the timer going off and your stomach growling, you’d pushed the curtains aside and propped the window open.

You practically inhaled dinner, glancing every so often at the window during infomercials. With every breeze that shifted your curtains aside, you looked. Every squeak and creak of the fire escape, you looked. By the time there’s nothing left to scoop out of your bowl, night has fallen completely. It makes it harder to see out, harder to gauge if you see him or just a shadow. Your eyes start to cross again and you force yourself to shower the day away.

You don’t expect the window to be closed when you get back.

Even better, you don’t expect him to be standing right outside it.

You’re far too eager to get it open again, cursing the old thing all the while, “Shit- sorry. Must’ve fell closed while I was in the shower, I left it open for you.”

You’re bending out of the window where Batman stands just a step or two away. You have to crane your neck to look up from your position, wondering how long he’d been standing there. He looks a little peeved at you. Had he been waiting long?

“I know. I closed it.”

You blink, “Why?”

“You were in the shower.”

You’re about to reiterate “I left it open for you” with feeling this time when it dawns on you that he’d already clocked that. You shut right up. “Okay—admittedly—stupid move. But you haven’t considered the fact that maybe I knew you’d get here before someone with a gun.” Batman doesn’t look impressed at all. In fact, he looks like he’s going to turn around and abandon you forever. You frantically back away from the window, “Sorry. Are you hurt?”

He waits to answer you until he’s stepped fully inside. He takes a short survey of the room, peering into every corner, before he’s turned his attention to you. It’s clear skies tonight. He doesn’t smell like rain for once, “I just came to check on you.”

Your chest has the audacity to swell with stunned breath. “Really?”

“Were you expecting me for something else?”

“Well, no, I just... I was just... when I said I left the window open for you, I meant... I hadn’t really expected you to stop by. Was more wishful thinking. An invitation.”

Your admission should’ve stayed secret. You watch him work through a host of expressions, landing on a firm scowl.

“Okay, again, admittedly stupid move. Can we move past the window already?” His glare could freeze you dead. No wonder he was so good at his job. “And I’m fine.” He continues to stare. “Seriously. I’m good.” Now he just blatantly looks like he doesn’t believe you. You would find it funny—you do find it funny, actually, though you hide it well—if you weren’t so annoyed that he’d found you just as convincing about your wellbeing as you found him about his own, “But you would know about being a hypocrite, wouldn’t you?”

That last part is said with a little more venom than necessary. You regret it as soon as his face softens. His eyes tells you he takes no offense.

“I’m sorry,” you found yourself saying that a lot tonight, “I don’t know what’s going on with me today. Are the people you save usually susceptible to rash, impulsive decisions?”

“What did you do?”

You exhale through pursed lips, saying with the same cadence of a teenager admitting they’d crashed the family car, “Got a job.”

Batman’s expression doesn’t change except for a teeny, tiny glint in his eye. Teasing, it looked like, “You’re insane. What on earth were you thinking?”

“Okay, ha ha.”

“No, really. You might have brain damage. We’ve got to get you to a hospital, stat.” It would’ve shocked you that he reached forward to press the back of his hand to your forehead had you not been giggling deliriously. You smack it away like he did this all the time, though once you’re touching him, your fingers cling for a little longer than needed. You aren’t exactly sure what about touching him made you want to hold on, monopolize the feeling. Was it because every time you’ve touched him, it’s been an anchor? For comfort? Something that extends beyond words? Probably.

You release his hand before he can notice. Or comment on it.

But then you’re stumbling toward your couch and dropping your head in your hands like you’ve made a big mistake. You don’t have to look up to hear him follow you. “I must be insane.” you grumble, tracking his body where it stops in front of you, where he kneels, and you clench your eyes shut tighter.

You barely feel it at first. It’s faint, lighter than a breath. It doesn’t register as a touch, let alone his touch, until all five of his fingers are hovering over the surface of your knee. You peek through your fingers and sure enough, his hand is right there. He doesn’t dare press his fingers into your skin and it almost feels like he’s dangling you off a ledge.

You don’t want him to let go.

You place a hand over his and hold it there, closing around the leather. You don’t know how long you just stay like that, trying desperately to cool down what feels like a creeping panic. There’s too much happening. Too many sensations, too many thoughts, too many emotions. You just need him to stay there, quiet, and let you touch someone.

You don’t remember the last time you’d been properly hugged. You surely hadn’t been since you’d left the hospital. Your parents had been too focused on getting you to come home with them that you hadn’t thought to ask for one, hadn’t expected that you’d get one. And, to be fair, if you’d been given one, you’d probably have brushed it off.

Because, truth was, you did not know what you were doing.

Batman doesn’t seem to mind being still. He waits, breathing slowly and deeply. At some point, when you zero in on him (because how could you not? How could it be lost on you that this isn’t just anyone you’re touching right now?), you start to match him.

You begin to apologize for the other night when you remember how you clung to him, but fear that another “sorry” might actually annoy him more than leaving your window open again. You search Batman’s face for any sign of “I need to get the fuck outta here” and find none. “I’m asking you this because I trust you: have you ever met Bruce Wayne?”

You watch him shift uncomfortably, but he never breaks eye contact with you. “What?”

“Bruce Wayne. Can I trust him?”

He hesitates, picking apart your face for something, “I’m not following.”

“He asked me to work for him. Apparently, he thinks I’m very talented even though he’s never seen me work.”

“You are. I would know.”

“Yeah, you would. It’d have made more sense for you to ask me. What I don’t get is why me. His answer wasn’t very enlightening. That’s why I’m asking you.”

“...What do you think?”

“I think I want to. But I’m worried I’m being reckless again. I’m used to... I used to chase danger a lot when I was younger. Kind of had a taste for it. I’m worried that that’s what this is.”

“There’s a lot of danger in change.”

“You’re saying I’m afraid of things changing?” He was starting to feel like a therapist now, prodding at old wounds and everything, “Is that what this is? Things change all the time. I’m a doctor. Nothing is ever predictable... and you didn’t answer my question.”

Batman frowns. You realize this is the second time you’ve said that today. “Bruce Wayne isn’t corrupt, if that’s what you’re asking. You can trust that. The rest is up to you.”

You’d think that would have been enough to put all your worries about him to bed, but it left you with more mystery. The bruised knuckles, the pain in his side he’d passed off as just stress, the warning Alfred had given you in the elevator, Bruce’s sudden interest in you... all of it felt connected to something bigger. If it wasn’t corruption, what could it be? And if it was, how deep did it go for even Batman not to know?

You’d be much more prepared for concerns like this on more sleep. And less pain meds.

You start thinking about the skin healing beneath your bandaged leg, the dull pain that shifted with every movement. You also think about Batman’s hand on your knee (the one you’re still holding, the one he doesn’t look eager to retrieve), “Do you have somewhere to be?”

You’d missed looking into those deep blues. He holds your gaze steady, speaking quietly as if not to break the moment, “It’s quiet tonight.”

“Don’t suppose you’ll react kindly to me asking to see your wound.” As soon as you lock eyes with him again, his eyes narrow. You get the feeling he’s getting better at clocking your bullshit. “Unless you’ve got some other doctor friends I don’t know about taking care of you.”

He gives you that look again, the same one on the fire escape that made you worry he’d up and leave, but his hand doesn’t shift from under yours.

You watch him look around, searching. It takes him a few seconds before he reaches for something on the other end of the couch. Your mouth gapes a little when you realize he’s holding one of your shirts, the not so fresh one that you’d forsaken for the shower just an hour ago. He removes his hand from your knee and grabs the other end of the shirt, stretching the material before looking back up at you. It takes you an embarrassingly long moment to figure out what he’s asking for, his hands motioning for you to lean forward.

You slowly tilt closer until the fabric of your shirt caresses your eyelids. You feel Batman pull the shirt around your eyes, around your ears, and to the back of your head where his fingers begin to tie a knot with it. You’d be mad that he was stretching one of your favorite pieces of clothing if you didn’t feel his breath ghost your lips, letting your head be lightly jerked around by his tying, “No. Just you.”

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