#Bruce: just fly over to the manor for the night no one will notice ;)

[batsandbirdbrains]

I want to write a fic set during season one of yj where Batman gets hurt really bad on a mission with the JL and the team sees him rushed to mount justice for the med bay and Dick sees Bruce basically mangled and bloody and hears someone say they think his heart stopped and Dick panics

The one where Robin runs away to the circus

Robin had chased after them, trying to follow them in the med bay, shouting Batman, B wake up! B! until someone holds him back, and that’s when he hears someone say they think Batman’s heart has stopped.

And Dick freaks out. His ears start ringing and his mouth is dry and he’s suddenly terrified. Because he was only Bruce’s ward. Alfred has no real way to claim custody of him, and he refuses to go back to the juvie the city threw him into the first time he was orphaned.

So Dick runs. He books it back to the manor and packs a bag, and he’s crying the entire time, and Alfred is out so he can’t even say goodbye to him, but he leaves a note explaining as best he can, telling Alfred to call Clark for more answers.

And after a little research, he uses a zeta tube to get to Europe, then hitchhikes until he stumbles upon Haly’s Circus.

Jack Haly welcomes Dick back with open arms, telling him he always has a home with the circus. But Dick can’t go by his real name, can’t be a Flying Grayson just yet. There are a few people in the JL who know his and Bruce’s identities, and he can’t be found that quickly.

So he takes his mom’s old stage name, from before she became a Grayson: The Skydancer.

And he becomes a huge hit right away, performing acrobatics for the circus. Like he was always meant to. He realizes how much he missed it. How much he missed the other members of the circus.

The fortune teller who still insists on him calling her auntie puts feathers and tinsel in his hair, changing them out with each new stop the circus makes. She reads his tarot cards and his palms and helps him with his stage makeup, painting glitter across his eyes and helping him with his hair.

The strongman tosses him around until he laughs uncontrollably, then shows him how to cook dinners he hasn’t had in years.

There are several other members of the troupe who have been around since before Dick was even born, and they remember him, they welcome him back as if he’d never left.

Jack Haly is like a grandfather, and he checks in Dick every night, making sure he’s alright and letting Dick help him with some of the business aspects of the circus. It was something Dick’s father used to do. It’s something Dick knows from both his father and from Bruce, having spent the last few years watching Bruce go over various Wayne Enterprises accounts. He’s a whiz at it, and Jack tells him as much.

Then after a few months, the team shows up. A few JL members show up. They’d been in the audience, they’d watched the show, they’d seen The Skydancer performing with the same fluid movements of Robin, if the boy they’ve been searching for since he ran.

And after the show, once the rest of the audience has left, Dick is helping clean up the popcorn booths when he notices them lingering in the fringes of the circus grounds. The lights are twinkling and the smell of popcorn and peanuts and cotton candy are still wafting in the air, and Dick feels his chest tighten. Because he can’t go back. He won’t go back. Not without Bruce.

He darts away to find Jack, and once he’s near Mr. Haly’s train car, he starts shouting for him, calling him grandpa in French, his voice strained, and the door to the train car slams open, Jack standing firm as Dick hides behind him.

They’re speaking to each other in rapid French, Jack asking what happened, what’s wrong, are you alright and holding on to Dick’s arms tightly. Dick is shaking his head, his panic finally spilling over and bubbling up in the form of tears dripping down his face.

Don’t let them take me, please let me stay, please he begs, pressing himself close to Jack, hugging him tight. Don’t leave me behind again, please!

Jack holds him tight, and several other members of the troupe who heard Dick panicking are standing near the train car now, looking to where the JL members and the team are walking towards them.

But then Bruce Wayne steps forward. Just Bruce. And Dick feels his breath catch in his throat, and a strangled shriek leaving his mouth, and he hides behind Jack. Because Bruce is dead. He’s seeing a ghost. It’s not real it can’t be real he heard them say his heart stopped he saw his mangled body.

“Dick, please,” Bruce begs. “I know what you think you saw, chum, but please. I’m right here. I’m right here.”

“You died,” Dick says. “I saw it. Your heart stopped, they said so. You’re not real”

“My heart did stop,” Bruce says gently. “But they started it back up. I was very very hurt, but I didn’t die.”

Jack Haly has to speak with Dick for several minutes, his voice soft, gentle, until he beckons for Bruce to come over. And Dick looks Bruce over for a long moment, his hands hovering as if he wants to reach out but he’s afraid of what he might find, and then he launches himself at Bruce. Bruce catches him, holds him tight, whispers to him while Dick cries.

[secretidentie]

The people of gotham are getting more and more worried. There have been more superman sitings in their city this month then in the last five years

Superman seems to arrive at odd hours and is usually seen going back to metropolis around 7am. Sometimes people see him flying back and forth during the lunch hour. He was too fast for anyone to know where he was going exactly but that sonic boom was unmissable

People who have managed to get his attention (someone he saved from an accident in busy traffic) report that he gets very flustered, turns red and doesn't want to make eye contact when he's asked what he's doing in gotham all the time. When has Superman ever been nervous. That's weird

Batman doesn't tend to stick around for questioning but the one time he was cornered he started stammering and told everyone they were "um working together on.. a thing" gave an awkward smile then disappeared.

A metropolitan being weird about gotham is one thing but batman smiling? Something was definitely wrong.

Other batfamily members hadn't been appearing more then usual so people assumed it was so bad that batman needed backup but didn't want to put his kids in that much danger. Was it an alien invasion? An oncoming terrorist attack? Nobody knew.

This became the only thing people were talking about all week. Even gossip rags were throwing out guesses and speculating on what problem could take the world's finest this long to resolve.

That was until every news publication turned their attention to a bigger news story. Bruce Wayne announced at a gala that he was hanging up the playboy lifestyle because he was in a committed exclusive monogamous relationship for the first time in his public career.

Everyone forgot about any mortal danger they were under and this became the only topic of discussion. This was more important. The news that the prince of gotham was no longer on the market was much more tragic then any alien invasion. And how a random journalists from metropolis accomplished this was definitely more interesting then whatever Superman was doing.

[flwrkid14]

Tim Drake's Immortal Babysitter

Tim Drake has always had someone watching over him. The Bast just don't know it.

Because before Tim was Red Robin—before he was even walking—the Drakes made a deal. They were rich, busy, and too occupied with their globe-trotting lifestyle to actually raise their son. But they still wanted Tim protected. Watched over. Cared for.

Enter Danny.

Young-looking, strangely unaging, with sharp blue eyes and a warm smile, he seemed like a responsible college kid just looking for a babysitting gig. Only he wasn’t. Because behind the casual charm and the easy grin was Phantom, the immortal protector of Amity Park—now moonlighting as the personal bodyguard of one Tim Drake.

The Drakes paid him an obscene amount of money to keep their son safe. But Danny didn’t do it for the money. He did it because he promised.

And Danny always keeps his promises.

-—

Tim doesn’t remember a time without Danny.

Danny, who stayed with him when his parents were gone for months at a time. Danny, who dried his tears and soothed his nightmares. Danny, who bandaged scraped knees and taught him how to ride a bike. Danny, who picked him up from school and brought him home to a warm meal, even when his parents didn’t care enough to call.

And when Tim got older—when he grew sharper, smarter, and far too observant—he started noticing things. How Danny never seemed to age. The way Danny was always there, no matter what. How he could do things no normal person could do—like pull Tim out of the path of an oncoming car and somehow appear twenty feet away a second later, holding him safely in his arms.

Tim figured it out by the time he was ten.

"You’re Phantom, aren’t you?" he asked one night, voice steady, too sure for a child. Danny stared at him for a moment, then huffed out a tired laugh. "Yeah, Tim. I am." Tim blinked once. "Cool. Can you teach me how to fight?"

Danny had laughed so hard he nearly cried. And then, he did teach him.

-—

So by the time Tim became Robin, Danny already knew.

He didn’t try to stop him. He didn’t tell him it was too dangerous. He just smiled wryly, ruffled Tim’s hair, and made him promise to let Danny help.

That way, when Tim was too tired to make it home? Danny was there, carrying him back to his apartment. When Tim got injured? Danny was the one who patched him up before anyone else could even find him. When Tim couldn’t stand after a fight? Danny was the one pulling him into his arms, flying him away before the family even realized he was gone.

And no one knew.

The Bats didn’t notice the subtle extra layer of protection. The faint wisp of cold air that followed Tim after patrols. The second shadow lingering on the rooftops.

None of them saw the glimmer of white hair that flickered out of sight or the flash of toxic green eyes that glared from the dark whenever someone got too close to Tim.

And Tim? Tim was happy.

Even when Bruce found out about Tim’s parentless situation and, with all his good intentions, suggested adoption—offering to bring Tim into Wayne Manor, to make him part of the family—Tim just shook his head.

"Thanks, but no thanks," he said easily. Bruce blinked. "Tim, I can give you a home. You don’t have to—" "I already have a home," Tim interrupted softly. Because he did. Because Danny was his family.

-—

The family doesn’t know. They don’t know that when Tim comes back from a rough patrol, there’s already a cup of hot chocolate waiting for him at home. That when Tim is too tired to train, there’s someone helping him stretch and taking care of his body. That when Tim doesn’t answer his comm, it’s because Danny is already there.

And when Tim is Red Robin, moving with practiced ease through Gotham, Phantom is always nearby, invisible to everyone else but always watching over him.

Tim doesn’t need to be adopted. He doesn’t need a Bat symbol on his chest to feel safe. Because he has Danny, and Danny has him.

And that's all he'll ever need.

[alienzil]

Okay so I saw this post and you know the types of fics where adult Danny moves to Gotham and winds up emotionally adopting one or more of bat kids or accidentally coparenting with Bruce (with or without a relationship between them)? I had the thought, what if Danny parented the bat kids but he started doing it out of spite?

Like, Danny moves to Gotham and runs into Batman and Robin one night while out for a late night flight and drops down to the rooftop to say hi.

Bruce sees this 5'6" twink that looks like a stiff breeze could knock him over and is so obviously new in town and thinks Gotham is going to eat him alive, he needs to leave before he gets killed.

Batman: Looming menacingly and in his deepest scariest Batman voice, "Leave. Metas aren't allowed in Gotham."

Danny: Offend! Excuse?! Who does this guy think he is?! 😡 Danny was trying to be polite here! "First of all, I'm not a meta. Second of all, rude much?!"

Batman: Does scariest bat glare. "Leave." Swoops off into the night.

Robin (Damian): "My father is correct. You should leave the city for your own safety."

Danny sees this tiny vigilante child with fierce expression and a sword and is just like awww, so cute! 😍 Then he noticed Robin had a small cut on his arm and his inner gremlin activates. If the rude flying furry can't take care of his own kid properly, Danny will do it better!

He bandages up Damian's arm, gives him a cookie and teaches him a neat sword trick before sending him on his way with a hug telling him he needs his sleep.

Danny goes out of his way to run into the bat kids and be the absolute best dad.

He takes Nightwing flying and throws him in the air so Nightwing can do all the fanciest acrobatic tricks.

He tracks down Red Hood and starts a book club with him (Danny may or may not have used his connection with Ghost Writer to get ahold of some rare books).

He eats waffles with Spoiler and trys out weird topping combinations that make them both make faces and laugh.

He makes new gadgets for Red Robin but carefully breaks them just a little bit and takes them to the teen so they can fix them together (it's enrichment!). He always insists RR keep them as a reward.

He follows Signal around during the day invisibly, making faces and doing tricks only Signal can see (he made him laugh in front of the police at a crime scene twice!).

All of the kids get his attention and love and Danny smugly thinks how Batman must be absolutely seething about his kids bonding with Danny and Batman missing out on all of it.

Danny started it out of spite but he does wind up genuinely loving the bat kids.

Batman definetly hates it when the kids are bonding with Danny and is extremely jealous (sulky Batman brooding in his cave about it).

Bruce's repeated attempts to intimidate Danny into leaving Gotham don't work and him telling his kids to stay away from Danny had zero effect (the terrible children don't listen to him at all).

So Bruce starts spending more time with the kids to compete against Danny. The bat kids love it and (little gremlins that they are) use the two of them against each other constantly.

Bruce:"Sorry Tim, I can't make it to your photography exhibit this weekend, there's a meeting with the Justice League."

Tim:"Oh that's fine... I'll just ask Danny to come." 😏

Bruce: Narrows his eyes and grits his teeth, "Actually, the Justice League needs to have contingencies in place to manage without my input. This would be a good time to test their capabilities. I'll skip the meeting and come to your exhibit."

With both of them competing to spend more time with the kids it leads to the two of them spending time with each other to be around the kids more.

After Damian catches a terrible flu bug, Danny spends an entire weekend at the manor babying him. This is when Bruce finds out Danny has known their secret identities for months and tries to get mad about it but Alfred puts his foot down, raises a judgmental eyebrow in Bruce's direction that puts a stop to that nonsense and sets up Danny with his own room in the family wing.

Eventually, Danny gets to the point where he spends most of his nights at the manor and he and Bruce consult each other on all major household decisions.

The whole family is at the manor one morning including Danny. Bruce has a meeting at WE and he and Danny are absently discussing their plans for the day at the breakfast table.

Bruce: " The meeting should take most of the morning and then I have paperwork this afternoon and a scheduled walk through on one of the new engineering projects. I probably won't be done by the time school let's out. Can you pick up Damian today?"

Danny: "That shouldn't be a problem. Would you mind swinging by the bookstore on the way home and getting my preorder? Jay and I just finished rereading the first book and we were wanting to start the second tonight before you all go on patrol. I'd rather not try to make it to the bookstore in school rush hour traffic"

Bruce: "Sure."

Stephanie watches Danny reach out and absently straighten Bruce's tie as they both get up to leave. Bruce grabs Danny's coffee thermos and hands it to him while they walk out the door.

Stephanie: "Sooo, bets on how long until they realize they're basically married?"

[womanofwords]

Everybody's Favourite (Part 14)

You started spending weekdays over at the Iceberg Lounge, much to the Batfam's chagrin. Each time, your excuse for leaving rubbed them the wrong way.

"Sorry, meeting investors for the Ice Block! One of them's Japanese, so I have to be there to translate!"

"I'm discussing prices for the ice creams with Papa!"

"Uncle Harvey and I are discussing logos and copyright law for the business!"

"That's it. I'm ending this myself," Damian said. "Nobody steals my sibling and gets away with it."

"Damian, do not try to seek Y/N out," Bruce warned, although his heart broke to say such a thing. "It'll just make things worse."

You were making headlines a lot, too, and not only for being Gotham's wounded dove. As it turned out, you were a legend.

Y/N Wayne Throws 5th Birthday Party For Pothole That Is Five Years Old

Y/N Wayne Found Flying Around Gotham On Hoverboard

Y/N Wayne Caught Commanding Birds; Claims Their Papa Taught Them

"Father, Y/N can't actually command birds, can they?" Damian asked.

"I . . . have no idea," Bruce admitted. "I really have no idea."

Tim's sleep schedule got worse with each headline; every time a new one was released, he would stay up all of the next night cyberstalking you. It only made things worse.

Click. There you were, opening the first Ice Block location. Click. You were visiting the zoo with Oswald, feeding the parrots. Click. You were painting your nails black, white, and gold. Cobblepot colours, you called it.

They also noticed your stuff moving out. It was just some trivial trinkets at first, but then it became bigger and more important stuff. Weirdly enough, nobody ever saw anybody move anything. It just . . . vanished.

One day, you moved out for good. You left a letter on your bed (one of the last pieces of big furniture left behind) for Alfred to read.

Dear former family,

For ten years, I have been in this house with you, eating the same foods at the same table, but with a seat far removed from you all. I have tried to invite you into my life, telling you about trivial school matters and asking you your opinions on clothing choices, but to no avail. I watched my father shut me out of his life, only throwing me cold looks like a prison warden throwing scraps of rotten food at a starving prisoner. It hurt so much to watch you shower everyone but me with love and affection, making it clear who your favourites were and weren't.

I had so many questions to ask you, Bruce, questions I have contented myself with being left unanswered. How did you meet my mother? Why didn't you know about me earlier? If my mother hadn't died, would you ever know I existed? Life at Wayne Manor wouldn't have looked any different without me, except Damian wouldn't have had anybody to torment.

Everything changed when I was taken. It was terrifying at first, but I settled into a routine very quickly. Papa noticed my talents and potential very quickly, and my aunts and uncles took a shine to me very quickly. Finally, I knew what parental love felt like, how it felt to be surrounded by people who actually wanted to know you, rather than people who had to put up with you.

But it wouldn't last. Batman had to come in and ruin it on your behalf, suspiciously after the fourteen-day video we'd made. I could only watch in horror as my family were beaten up by him and his Batkids and I was kidnapped again.

When I was returned to Wayne Manor, you acted different. You went from cold to overly affectionate. It unnerved me. Dick called me 'baby bird', Bruce fed me lies about my papa, and Damian brought up the nauseating fact about me being his blood sibling. The last people I wanted to see were too close for comfort, and the people I did want to see were forced away from me. You really pick your moments, don't you?

Being around you long-term is nothing short of bad luck. I go for a walk with Stephanie and I get a drink thrown at my head and my 'sister' using me as a human shield. I go with you to a gala and become acquainted with your horrifying unpopularity. It is embarrassing to be seen with you.

So I'm leaving. I can't be with family members that only try and build a relationship when they fear a loss of status. By the time you read this, I will be legally adopted into the Cobblepot family. (Adult adoption's a thing, you know.) I will be sending you all restraining orders very shortly, except for Alfred. I hold no ill will towards him. However, if he ever tries relaying messages from you to me, I will cut him off without delay. I will also be tipping off Animal Control about Titus, since no normal ten-year-old should be commanding a vicious animal. If the authorities find out about your vigilante lives, then so be it. You are, as of this moment, not my problem.

I do desire that we become better strangers than family.

(Not) yours,

Y/N Cobblepot.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14 <- You are finished

Taglist: @tinybrie, @enchantingarcadecreation, @hopingtoclearmedschool, @sh4rk-k1d, @prorpy, @angelicbear, @sulleha, @sirenetheblogger, @omgfangirlland, @heather-hutchcroft, @wannaflyaway, @jaybunsblog, @sugarrush-blush, @redkarmakai, @asillysimp, @type-ink, @jellyedkazoo, @lonely-nerd-sodaholic

OK, folks, that's it! You're at the end of the line with this fanfic; I have posted the very last part. Thank you for the nourishment (likes and reblogs) and the encouragement (comments)! I will be back soon with a new multi-part story, and I'll let you pick which one comes on first.

[kazzattack]

Pretty, pretty girl…

Dick Grayson x Black fem!reader x Jason Todd, w/c 2.6k

Synopsis;; You attend one of Bruce Wayne’s galas with your father, for the pure pleasure of seeing the infamous Wayne brothers, and end up being snuck into the manor for the night.

content;; 18+, threesome, oral (fem receiving, implied male receiving), face fucking (male receiving), brief chokehold, hair pulling, fingering, finger sucking, eye contact, lots of banter, technically mirror sex (bc I lowk forgot about the mirror oops), light degradation (whore, slut), brief dry humping, doggy style, manhandling (?), spanking for 2 seconds, pet names (baby, doll, sweetheart), Jason’s a bit of a meanie, and Dick is… Dick, I think that’s it, poorly edited/proof read

“Stupid, stupid, stupid…” you begin to mutter, frustrated that you agreed to attend in the first place. Still, you find the will power to put on your prettiest smile and runway worthy strut.

Functions likes these never served any entertainment for you, nor did you get anything out of it. Galas your father attends for the sole purpose of saving face, surrounded by rich scum and snakes. At least this is Bruce Wayne’s gala. One of the only billionaires you find tolerable. The only people worth going for are those Wayne boys, though. Pure eye candy. You couldn’t pick a favorite out of the two.

Dick Grayson’s the first to greet you, eyes darting up and down over your figure before meeting your eyes. “Hey pretty lady,” he sing-songs, friendly and welcoming despite the telling glint in his eyes. Wayne’s prodigal son, the first, and he definitely fits the title. Dick is almost surprisingly sweet, pouring you wine and complimenting the shiny gold jewelry around your wrists and neck, rather than the dress that rides just a bit high on your thighs when you sit in the chair he pulls out for you.

Jason Todd meets you with an unintentional death stare, bless his heart. Not to say you don’t do the same thing at first. If he wasn’t 6’1 and 200+ lbs of pure muscle stuffed into a red tux, he’d be easier to miss. At first you don’t even realize his connection to Dick, let alone Bruce Wayne, but you quickly take notice of the familial banter from afar. As of now, you two share the commonality of not really wanting to be here. The two of you only get the chance to properly speak thanks to the loud-mouthed brother, followed by the chance to subtly gawk at each other, of course.

The two of them, though most of the effort is through Dick, make most of the event fly by. You take part in shameless flirting with the leaner of the two, laugh a few times at Jason’s more snarky jabs, and before you know it? Your father’s left wondering where his daughter ran off to. Guess you’ll have to figure out how to tell him two out of many of Wayne’s kids are busy trying to sneak you into his manner.

The… guest bedroom? Is awfully large, along with the bed, and the nightstand, and the mirror you use to make eye contact with Dick. They’ve put you under the impression to have made it past the security system, but realistically they both know Bruce has been notified of your presence. They also trust the billionaire playboy will mind his business. And besides, the old man should be the least of your worries when Dick tugs your dress up, followed by Jason’s calloused hands running up your thighs.

“You’re shameless,” you tease, settling yourself between Dick’s legs with your back against his chest while Jason lowers his overwhelming stature in front of you.

“Oh, sweetheart, you haven’t seen the half of it,” he corrects, grabbing the tiny zipper between his fingertips to expose more skin. “Especially not from that one down there.”

Jason scoffs, sliding your heels off as he responds. “I’m almost positive she knows what you are. Hard not to.”

“I know what I am,” Dick snickers into your ear, hands snaking over your figure. “You’re the one who stomps around acting like you’re too high and mighty for a little fun.”

You muster up the courage to jump in, urging Jason to come a little closer to your face. Despite the persona, you’ve both warmed up to each other throughout the night. “You too good for me, Jay?” You inquire, tugging him closer by his collar and tie. The glint in his eyes answers for you, giving away every intention he has for the rest of tonight.

“‘M just shy,” he jokes, though you’re not 100% sure he is. After a few drinks and the comfort of a seperate room, his eyes wander more freely, and it doesn’t take long before you notice Grayson’s gawking at you through the mirror as he undresses. “Not that you’ve gotta worry about that anymore.”

𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ

Jason was no longer shy, clearly.

“Oh my god, Jay-“ you moan above him, head resting on Dick’s shoulder as one hand roams around your upper body. The other curls under your knee, supposedly holding your legs open as opposed to closing around Jason’s head while his tongue flicks against your clit.

“Fuck, you sound gorgeous,” Dick whispers as he sucks another hickey into your collarbone, and you feel a smooth hand wrap around your neck and rest there. “You gonna make those pretty noises for me too?” His tone is sultry and teasing, though you aren’t sure if it’s meant to provoke you or the short-tempered brother between your legs. You haven’t spent that long with them, but it’s been long enough for you to learn of Jason’s competitive edge and Dick’s insufferable tendencies to get under his skin.

“You could always find out for yourself…” you manage to respond, circling your hips in time with the thick finger on your insides. The strength is found to pick your head up and look at Dick, who’s already watching you like a hawk. Eyes focused with an almost obsessive gaze, tongue grazing over your skin. You can tell he’s fixing his dirty mouth for a quip but you cut him off with a gasp as another finger is dipped into your cunt, breaking eye contact as your head falls back.

“Quit talking to him,” Jason grumbles into your heat, “just sit and look pretty like you were doin’.” His words are muffled and the bass in his voice vibrates against your leg, leaving no room for you to consider not listening to him. He’s sure you’d much rather listen to him after that debauched moan you let out anyway.

Your hand moves to tug on the white streak of Jason’s hair, blanking out for a moment as the tips of his fingers curl and thrust into you. “Aw, gonna let him ruin the fun?” Dick teases, “I still wanna look at that pretty face.” He fixes you after his comment flies over your head, gripping your jaw to face him in the mirror and letting go to see if you’ll focus on your own. Jason, still seemingly irritated with him, tightens his biceps around the plush of your thighs and pulls you further from Dick. He doesn’t like sharing either. Noted. You glance down at him, green eyes half lidded and entirely zoned in on your pussy. He doesn’t talk all that much, but he’s got his own filthy mouth, tongue dipping in with his fingers for a moment as his free hand circles your clit. This is where you learn that Dick has his own frustrations too. He needs control, power in his hands.

“No wonder you like her,” he grins, “she’s almost as hard-headed as you.” Through the hazy pleasure you giggle, not expecting the way his arm slots around your neck. There’s a gasp before a strangled moan and you clench around Jason’s fingers, hips bucking into his face and he groans into your pussy. You’re in a more compromised position now, and he’s looking you directly in the eyes while his free hand tweaks at your nipple, making you arch further away from him.

“Oh, the pretty lady likes this? You want it tighter?”

Shamelessly, you nod despite your restrictions and he listens, squeezing your head between his forearm and bicep. A familiar feeling coils in your tummy, pretty nails digging into the flesh around your neck as your leg wraps around Jason’s head. You’d feel bad if it weren’t for the needy groan against your cunt.

“Ohh, gonna come on his tongue from getting choked out? Yeah, let him know who you’re looking at while you fuck his face.”

Oh?

You’re ashamed of it, but the limited oxygen and lightheaded effect had you follow along without a thought.

“‘S you- fuck, Dick- I wanna…”

At this point, Dick’s sure he can see steam from Jason’s ears.

Still, his ministrations only go deeper, even if it’s not exactly of his free will. Thick nails dig deep into your hips and thighs to keep you in place as you orgasm and he helps you ride it out as he huffs and grunts. Meanwhile you’re right where Dick wants you, laying up against his chest and moaning against his forearm as if you were his bitch.

“Fuckin’ attention whore,” Jason sighs, easily moving your body further from Dick after practically yanking his arm from you. “Can’t go five minutes without begging for someone to look at you?” He’s clearly ticked off, but the frustration is also accompanied by the bulge of his dress pants pressing against your thigh. He hates the competition yet he undeniably craves it, and it’s clear in how much rougher his touches get. Jason moves to kiss up your body as his fingers curl at a slower pace, holding your hips in place to keep you from squirming underneath him.

“Jay-“ you sigh in bliss, hips trying to inch away as you sit up to look down at him. “Ja-son… ‘s too-“

“Shut up,” rude, “I know this pretty pussy’s beggin’ for it.”

“Struck a nerve? Sensitive much.” All he gets it a glare, rightfully so. You’d expect Dick Grayson to get in on more fun, but he’s just evil. He likes seeing a pretty girl like you squirm. Jason’s clearly more hands on, scissoring you open a few times before abruptly pulling away shoving his fingers down your throat. You’d be embarrassed by how easily you take it if the two of them weren’t mesmerized, watching while you suck his fingers clean of your own slick.

“We got us a pretty little slut, Jaybird,” Dick praises.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop talking?”

“No, actually.”

“Well I am now, Dick.”

You get out a little giggle while they bicker before Jason flips you over, positioning your ass against his pelvis and guiding your hips back. You’d been too high in pleasure before to realize that Jason Todd is big, everywhere. His dick presses against you through his pants and you almost panic as he pushes you back and forth, watching your ass bounce against him a few times and you whine.

“Yeah, y’feel that?” He groans from behind you and only Dick can see the prideful grin on his face. “You’ll take it, baby, jus’ for me.” Still, you let out a little whine at his words and clench around nothing. What you can see is the bulge in front of you as your head rests between Dick’s legs, doesn’t look as big but it’s definitely enough. You have no right to complain.

Jason leans over to deepen your arch and you hear his belt unbuckle. You wanna tell him wait, but you’re too slow. The tip of his cock slips against your opening and you mewl, looking back at him over your shoulder. “Oh my god, Jay-“ you gasp before he pushes deeper inside of you.

“Fuck… what’d I tell you?” He grunts, already halfway inside. “Already so wet and you’re tellin’ me you don’t wanna get fucked?”

“Be nice,” Dick interrupts as his fingers curl into your hair gently, as if he didn’t have you moaning against his arm in a chokehold earlier tonight. He gets to be the nice one now, your handsome knight in shining armor. If that were entirely true, though, he wouldn’t be over so slightly forcing you back onto Jason’s cock with his other hand.

Dick’s order is easily disregarded once he’s all the way inside, and with a few thrusts, pulling all the way out before slamming you onto his cock, pretty nails are clawing at the fabric of Dick’s slacks and you muffle your moans into them with soft whines. “Ah-ah, sweetheart,” he hums from above you, cooing at you with a soft voice yet tugging your head up by the chin a little harshly to look at you.

“‘S big.. oh- fuck, Dick-“

“‘Scuse me?”

Oopsie.

“Now you’re in for it, doll.” The smile of amusement and lust on Dick’s face is almost demeaning.

“We got an ungrateful little slut,” Jason scowls, tugging so hard on your hair he might fuck it up if he doesn’t fuck you up first. His thrusts gain a brutal pace and he fucks you even deeper than before, leaning down to your face before he speaks again. “Here I am, face covered in your cum, fuckin this tight cunt with my cock and you’ve still got the nerve to be moanin’ for him? The fuck is he doing for you, huh? Tell me. Tell both of us.”

You can’t, even if you wanted to. Even if you could. Just from the close proximity, the way his dick hits that sweet spot harder and harder has you whimpering an incoherent apology and clenching around him. The only thing he can make out is the pathetic little “‘m sorry” as your hand moves to cover your face.

“Oh hell no,” he corrects you, grabbing your arm and folding it behind your back. You’re weaker than ever right now, no longer holding yourself up. In fact, Jason’s the one holding you, keeping you stable while he fucks the lights out of you.

“I think she wants it like this,” Dick chimes in, smiling like all you’re doing is putting on a show for him. Not that you mind, of course. You’re busy trying not to cry from the intensity, but you haven’t even realized your mascara’s been fucked up for a hot minute already.

“Yeah, you wanted this, right? Bet you thought you’d get it from that bastard,” Jason huffs a guttural laugh, “guess he shoulda told you about this thick dick.”

“‘M sorry, ‘m sorry, Jay- fuck, please,” you beg from beneath him, tightening around his dick as another orgasm has your moans higher pitched. “Wanna cum- lemme cum, Jason, please-!”

“Now you wanna moan my name?”

“Guess you fucked some sense into her.”

“Shut your goddamn mouth, Grayson.” The venom in his voice is for Dick, but unfortunately the anger gets taken out on you with a sharp smack on the ass and you yelp. “Give it to me,” he groans, “cum all over this cock.”

“Thank you- thank you, Jason-“

Your eyes roll, so far back you can see your skull as he fucks you throught it. You still babble on about how good he feels and he never lets up, focused on his own orgasm as he shoves your face into the mattress. Without another beat, he fucks you full, nasty fluids gushing around his cock as he finally calms down. You damn near back out, honestly, but distantly you can hear another belt buckle being undone.

“Y’done yet, Jaybird?”

“Not really,” he huffs through a deep groan, still rutting into you. “But go ahead. Just don’t piss me off again.” Dick fake pouts, pulling your face back up and you’re met with his length, throbbing and neglected.

“Wha…” you weakly moan, legs trembling and cunt twitching around Jason. Dick almost moans at the sight of your fucked out face, drool pooling at the corner of your lips and mascara smudged down your face. Still just as gorgeous, albeit more shameful than before. Dick can admit he prefers you with this look.

“We’ve still got plans for you, pretty girl,” he whispers, squishing your cheeks to push your mouth open before slapping the fat of his cock onto your tongue. “You still with us?”

“Mhm…”

“Good, good girl.“

𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ

a/n;; dick was supposed to have the upper hand for most of this but listen, things happen. writing this was honestly so fun but idk if it’ll ever happen again anytime soon </3. pls enjoy, like, comment and reblog, i’d appreciate it :p

[battymommastuff]

Of Songbirds and Phoenix

al Ghul!Batmom x Gotham Knights (CONTAINS SPOILERS FROM GOTHAM KNIGHTS!)

Prompt: After the death of Bruce Wayne, his wife had vanished from the city, and only returns when she knows her children are in danger.

When Wayne Manor blew up and Bruce Wayne had been pronounced dead, one of the biggest questions was the outcome of his wife. Y/n Wayne was at the manor the night it blew up, but her body had never been recovered. The wonderful investigators at GCPD brushed it off under the excuse that your body had been completely blown up. A bullshit reason, but they were too lazy to do an in depth investigation. Your family however, worried that your body had been buried under the rubble in the now destroyed batcave. 

Fortunately for them...everyone was wrong. Days leading up to your husband's death, he sent you away to investigate his latest case. The Court of Owls. A conspiracy theory that he believed to be true, and so he sent you overseas to investigate some other claims of this infamous cult. The conspiracy only detailed members from Gotham's wealthiest families, but he wanted to be thorough. Your investigation led you to your twin sister, Talia al Ghul. You figured out her plan at the same time that your children had, and you didn't hesitate on making your way back to Gotham. 

Talia's plan to take over Gotham had been foiled, all while you watched from a distance. It was Bruce's wish. He wanted his family to be able to take care of Gotham should he perish, and wanted them to have the chance to thrive. You granted that wish by watching your children from the shadows. They were trained well because several times they turned in your direction or almost caught you. 

Tonight, Bruce's wish wouldn't be met. You'd been stalking Robin since he left the Belfry. He was on a routine patrol. Take down the bad guys and protect the city. What he didn't notice were the several League of Shadow members tailing him. You noticed right away. They were using the same methods you were. Talia's doing no doubt. She wanted revenge, and would ambush your youngest son to get it. 

Robin had just finished the takedown of some Freaks when several puffs of smoke appeared all around him. He wasn't a stranger to an ambush from the league, but this was more than he was used to. Luckily he wasn't alone. Using his bo staff and sling shot, he quickly darted around taking down members of the League. However, it seemed that the more they took the...the more that appeared. 

"Get down, little bird!" A voice called out. Robin ducked down without hesitation and heard the sound of metal flying through the air then a scream of pain. Looking up, a shuriken was embedded in the chest of a league member. A female dropped down in front of Robin, wielding two beautiful katana's in her hands, "Talia?" He asked, in confusion. The figure turned towards him and he paled, "M-Mom?" 

"What the hell did you just say?" The voice of Red Hood spoke through the comms. Robin couldn't answer, all he could do was watch as you skillfully took down the League of Shadows members. When the last member went down, you sheathed your blades and made your way over to Robin, "Little bird? Are you injured?" You asked while kneeling down in front of him. His mask didn't have the white lenses so you saw how watery his eyes were, "M-Mom?" He whispered in disbelief. He'd been mouring you as well as Bruce for weeks now. Knowing that he wouldn't relax until you proved that he wasn't dreaming, you wrapped your arms around him. Robin collapsed against your chest with loud sobs escaping his chest. That was the confirmation that the rest of the team needed. You were alive. 

After calming down enough to drive, Robin drove you both back to the Belfry on the bike. He held your hand in a death grip from the moment you stepped off of the bike. Tim had been so torn up about losing his parental figures that he wasn't planning on letting you go anytime soon. The doors opened, and you hesitantly stepped in. There you saw what remained of your family. 

Dick looked like he wanted to cry and pass out at the same time

Alfred was holding back his tears behind a relieved smile

Barbara had a few tears slipping from her eyes, but kept trying to wipe them away. 

Jason was staring holes into the ground. He couldn't bring himself to look at you. 

Dick was the first one to walk towards you, "You're really here?" He asked so softly, you almost didn't hear him. He gently touched your face, hair and shoulders. If anyone had been mouring you harder than Tim, it was Dick. You'd raised him since he was eight years old. He dug through piles of rubble with his bare hands looking for you, and here you were. Completely unharmed. 

"I'm here, my songbird." Dick wrapped his arms around you, nearly crushing you against his chest. Tim let go of your hand to give you this moment with your oldest son. Dick was the leader of this team. Batman's chosen successor. The one who was supposed to be the strongest, and yet he fell apart once he hugged his mother. He didn't have to be the strongest with her. He could be that eight year old boy again. The one that ran to her whenever he had a nightmare. The one who would gush over him and mend all of his wounds from his time as Robin, "How are you here? We thought you died?" He asked, pulling away from you. 

"Bruce sent me away to investigate the Court. They originate here in Gotham, but he heard rumors of other sightings in the middle east as well as the UK. He wanted this to be as covert as possible. That's why he told Tim I left for a business trip for Wayne Enterprises. If the world thought I was dead, then I could continue my investigation from the shadows." You were an al Ghul by blood. You were raised as a killer and taught to use the shadows to your advantage. Before his death, Bruce made you swear to never take another life while with him. Now that he was gone...you had no one to keep the vow to. 

Alfred and Barbara joined Dick with several tear filled hugs and questions. Tim was glued to your side, only leaving to change out of his suit, "Why did you come back?" You turned away from Barbara to look over at Jason. His jaw was clenched, and his arms crossed over his chest, "You didn't bother to reach out after Bruce's death, so why bother now?" Everyone, but you had glares on their faces. 

"My phoenix, I wanted to reach out. The moment I heard of Bruce's death, I wanted nothing more than to be right here with you all. I stayed away as a promise to Bruce. I'm glad I did. You all did so much more than what I could have. I'm so proud of you all. Especially you, Jason." 

Watching this big brute of a man melt at the words from a woman much smaller than him was a funny sight. Jason visibly relaxed and you wrapped him up in a warm hug. He hugged you back tightly, and let out a shaky breath. 

"I missed you, Mom. So much."

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

!!!Author's Note!!

Sorry for going MIA for so long. I have been very busy, but I am hopefully going to be back in action soon. I've been working on a new series for this blog that I'm excited to present to you all! Enjoy this little imagine, and I hope to see you all very soon! <3 ~ Batty

[confused-wanderer]

The entire superman family has at one point just picked up one of the batfam and flown them in the sky to force them to rest.

Bats were such active creatures. And each of the batfam never rested, never took breaks. It was like Gotham was constantly humming to them, constantly talking to them on where to go and who to help.

The city was always colourful, always too many sounds from different directions, explosions of light and crimes that kept each of them moving no matter how long it had been, no matter how injured they were.

It started when Kon was frustrated.

He’d noticed Tim hadn’t gotten any sleep for the past week or so, the other man contently focused on tracking down seventy three gang members all by himself. He was also working on a plan to frame three mafia families to land them behind bars, and solve twelve unsolved mysteries somehow related with the whole mess.

And he’s tried so hard to reason with Tim. To try and trick him into taking a nap. But he swore Tim could hear something in the city he couldn’t. Gotham and the bats communicated with sonar, he speculated because somehow Tim always had somewhere to go, somewhere to be.

So when he’s had enough, he just swooped up the other man, flying high enough that the sound of the city disappeared. It was bright and clamouring one second, silent and dark the next.

Tim’s tense, he’s probably yelling at Kon to put him down and smacking him with the pole but Kon couldn’t hear him over trying to figure out what to do next that wouldn’t earn him a kryptonite shaped hole in his chest.

But after a few minutes he shivers, curling closer to Kon as the winds whip past them. And in the silence of the night, as time slowly ticks by, he notices Tim’s grip on his shoulder slowly lessening, before it finally falls slack.

He waits for a bit, listening to Tim’s heartbeat until it finally steadies and slows, gently cradling the other man as he silently slips into the manor, and sets him down in bed. He does let the other bats know Tim’s asleep (they’re an overprotective bunch although very few would actually admit it)

And when he’s back with Superman, Clark grumbling about how he’s so close to just knocking Bruce out himself, Kon just gives him the same advice. Gotham’s sonar is silenced, everything else falling silent.

And it works.

Somehow, if you disconnect the bats from their city for more than five minutes each, every single one of them will succumb to sleep. It’s like all the noise and constant rush that’s been in their minds is flipped off and they’re left above their worries, nothing pressing to keep them moving so they drop fast asleep.

Supergirl jokes that they’re like actual bats in that way. You hang them up high when it’s time for them to rest. None of the batfam is amused.

[wondersinwaynemanor]

that time when Diana visited the Manor and Jason didn't know she was coming over.

Jason: Dick, you fucking suck. *shoves Dick to the side as they walk to the kitchen* Why did you wake me up at this hour? I need my fucking beauty sleep. I have to finish the book tonight!!!

Diana and Bruce glance at each other as the two boys enter the kitchen.

Bruce: Boys! Quiet down. And Jaylad, language.

Jason finally takes in his surroundings. His cheeks turn crimson by the time he sees Diana.

Jason: OH MY GOSH! *coughs, completely embarrassed* Hey, Diana! :"D

Dick snickers beside him and tries to contain his laughter: Hi, Diana. I almost forgot you're coming over.

Jason gives Dick the "What the fuck?" and "Why didn't you inform me?" looks.

Diana: Good morning, Dears. Join us for tea?

Jason internally panics: Give me a sec.

Jason leaves the kitchen, runs to the nearest bathroom and checks his reflection if he looks presentable because OMG HIS FAVORITE HERO IS HERE AND SHE HEARD HIM CURSING???? Jason bites his finger to contain his embarrassment. Once he's ready, he takes a deep breath and leaves the bathroom.

Once Jason re-enters the room, Cass, Tim and Damian have joined the rest of the family on the table. He sits in between Cass and Damian. He is quiet as he begins to eat breakfast. Tim and Dick chuckle across him as they already understand why he's acting that way. Diana and Bruce talk about the gala that's happening on the weekend.

Cass notices Jason, gets worried and touches his hand as if asking if he's okay.

Damian: Todd, you okay? You look like you just read a sad ending from one of your novels.

Before Jason can answer, Alfred calls from the kitchen: Can someone please help me carry the Croissants?

Jason immediately stands up from the table and goes to Alfred to assist him: Got it, Alfie.

Alfred knows all too well: Of course you do, Master Jason.

Jason returns to the table and offers the bowl of Croissants only to Diana, even missing Bruce's hand that reaches for one of the pastries.

Diana: Thank you, Jason. *smiles as exquisitely as ever and gently gives a soft pat on Jason's face*

If Jason knew acrobatic movements, he would do one now.

Dick sees his younger brother's enthusiasm and he adores it: Wish you were always here, Diana.

Tim: Everyone seems more cheerful whenever you're here.

Everyone else at the table acknowledges.

Diana: Would love to be here always. If Bruce doesn't mind.

Jason blurts out: Oh, he doesn't mind. We love you being here. Right, B? :"D

Bruce smiles: You know you're always welcome here, Diana. *steals a glance at Jason who shrugs*

When Diana leaves, the whole table is chaotic.

Alfred: Good thing we had Miss Prince over.

Dick: Little Wiiiing. Looks like you're not upset anymore.

Damian: Thought Todd was gonna pass out.

Tim: He didn't even curse. Not a single bit.

Cass just sits there and chuckles as she observes her brothers banter back and forth.

Jason presents his middle finger but mostly only to Dick and Tim's direction: Fu-

Bruce warns: Jaylad.

Jason: Ugh, I'm going back to bed.

Once his children slowly leave the room, Bruce has an idea.

That night when Red Hood is on patrol.

Red Hood draws his gun from the holster and points it to the thugs.

Red Hood: Leave this city. If I see your faces here again, I swear I'm gonna fucking -

Before he can finish his sentence, the thugs are already running away.

Red Hood turns around and he nearly jumps when he sees Wonder Woman flying down beside him. He automatically puts his gun away.

Red Hood: Oh. Hey.. Hey, Wonder Woman.

Wonder Woman: Red Hood. *she nods his way* Will be joining you tonight. Batman said you needed help.

And for the rest of the night, Red Hood didn't use his guns. Not even once. He's already planning the things he'll say to Bruce tonight. And yes, he's angry because a little heads up would have been helpful, but either way, it's nice having your favorite hero with you.

Batman smirks as he watches from the shadows: Problem solved. Thank you, Wonder Woman.

[toecrust69]

Hi! I’m not sure if you’re still taking requests but if you are, can I ask for one, Batfam x vigilante!male!reader (or gn, idc) The reader is a teen (younger than Tim and older than Damian). He’s like super smart and knows martial arts and is a total badass. The bat family has been trying to catch him for a year now. The reader just stopped a drug dealing, near the docks and was about to go back to patrolling but nightwing and Robin show up. They fight for a bit and robin kicks the reader in the water. The reader is exhausted too and passes out. Nightwing sees the reader not coming back up and dives in and rescues him. They take him back to the bat cave, put him in like a cell and the batfam starts questioning him. They find out he’s a kid and a orphan and ALSO knows who they are, bruce decides to adopt him (the reader and Robin not wanting that) but Bruce says something like since the readers just a kid and he already knows their identity, might as well adopt him and keep a eye on him. Thank youuuuu, I hope you can do this! Sorry if it’s a bit much <3

Super Cool Title

Tw: profanity but honestly who cares, bad writing, bad fight scenes

Authors note: don't worry about it at all! I hope u enjoy <3 Also, the reader is gender-neutral so I'm gonna try my best to not use any pronouns. Please let me know if you find any mistakes and I will fix them as soon as possible. Also, I changed some stuff up, so I hope you don't mind.

Enjoy!

The harsh wind hit you as you jumped from rooftop to rooftop.

You'd occasionally go down if you ever heard a noise, but so far, you haven't.

It was a quiet night.

Quiet nights weren't common in Gotham, but every time there was one, something happened by the end of it.

You didn't know if it was some sort if curse put on Gotham but you honestly wouldn't be surprised if that was the case.

You landed on a bridge overlooking a river, but you must be been too deep in thought to notice the loud thud behind you.

You did, however, hear the familiar voice of Robin behind you.

"ow," he hissed.

You whipped your head back to look at him and saw him there, on the ground, holding his knee to his chest.

You stifled a laugh as you crochet down in front of him, but still a few feet apart.

"What's wrong?" you began mockingly, "I thought Robins could fly, so why did you fall?".

"Fuck you," he hissed through gritted teeth.

You rolled your eyes and stared patiently at him, waiting for him to give up and ask for help.

He sensed your heavy gaze on him and glanced up at you.

"What" he demanded— rather aggressively might I add— but you decided to ignore it.

You pretended to pick at your nails then said; "oh, nothing much... Just waiting for you to swallow your pride and ask me for some much-needed help."

You smirked when his glare hardened, clearly annoyed.

He clearly wasn't giving up any time soon, so you decided to take manors into your own hands.

Standing up, you fished a mini med kit from your pockets and walked towards him.

He didn't seem to notice you until you were crouched down in front of him —closer this time— examining his seemingly hurt ankle.

He squirmed in your touch and yelled profanities at you as you tried to calm him down and keep him still.

"What do you think you're doing!? Let go of me you mo-"

"Shut up!" your voice was stern which seemed to help him follow your orders. "Stop moving so much— I can barely see what's wrong"

A quiet moment passed and soon you were bandaging his ankle.

"Why are you here, anyway?" you asked. "Still trying to catch me?" you teased with a smirk as you finished wrapping his ankle.

It wasn't a secret that Batman and his family had been trying to catch you for a little over a year now; there had been many articles written about the latest fight between you and Batman.

And, you guessed it, Batman never won.

*sigh*, you're just too cool for your own good...

A mischievous smirk graced his lips as he spoke, "Yes, was it too obvious?".

Before you could process what he was saying, he was launching himself at you and you were on the ground with him hovering only inches above you.

He raised his fists to punch you, but you caught it before it got the chance to.

Kicking him off of you, you stood up and watched as he struggled to do the same.

Your breaths were heavy and you brought your fists and guard down.

You couldn't help but feel bad for the kid. He was still young— younger than you. You know what it feels like to–

Suddenly, you were pushed to the ground, again, with somebody hovering atop you.

The fall was so hard that it knocked the air out of your lungs, but you still managed to crane your neck up to see who it was, only to have a hand planter on your head, twisting it back to where it once was.

"You good, Robin?" ah, you recognized that voice— it was Nightwing.

He nodded his head and pointed to his bandaged ankle. "Yes, I'm okay," he pointed at you, "This imbecile here helped me out".

With his other hand, Nightwing took both of your wrists and held them together as makeshift handcuffs.

Before you could speak, Nightwing beat you to it. "Oh, is that so?" he said mockingly, "I didn't know you had it in ya. Thanks for helping him out but we gotta take you back now."

You groaned. Not this shit again, you thought.

But you weren't going to go without a fight.

He stood up, picking you up in the process. He held you flush against his back and leaned down to whisper in your ear, "You won't escape this time".

You took this position to your advantage and turned your head to face him. Before he could react, you swept your tongue over his cheek.

He stumbled back in disgust and touched his cheek with his hand. He glanced down at his hand in disgust and you took the opportunity to high kick him in the face.

He stumbled back into the ground with a groan and held his now broken and bloody nose.

You turned to face Robin who was now standing up, ready to fight.

He launched himself at you once again but you punched him in the face before he could reach you.

Dumbass, you thought.

He fell to the ground, clearly embarrassed, and you circled him before speaking.

"Say, Robin, was you falling and getting hurt all part of your plan to —unsuccessfully— catch me again?" you taunted.

His glare hardened on you but then glanced behind you.

You didn't think much of it until you realized that he was starting at something behind you.

You couldn't even turn your head fully before you felt somebody hit your back, causing you to stumble forwards.

But you fought yourself before you could fall (again), and turned to face the culprit.

There you saw Nightwing again, in a fighting position.

Fuck not agai-

Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by another fight between both Nightwing and Robin.

You might've been strong when fighting with one of them, but not with two of them.

The whole thing was a blur, but all you know is that you somehow ended up tumbling down the bridge rather ungracefully.

Panting, Dick turned to Damian and saskef if he was okay.

"You good?"

"Yes", he responded through labored breaths. "Now all we have to do is bring them back and hope we don't end up getting our asses beat again".

"yeah, you gotta admit they're pretty good."

Damian nodded reluctantly in response. He glanced down at the water and then asked "Why haven't they come up yet?"

He shook his head mindlessly, still trying to catch his breath, when he realized–

"Holy shit where are they!?"

Dick frantically looked down at the water, Damian following suit.

They stared in horror as tiny air bubbles made their way up to the surface.

Before Damian could, Dick dove down into the water to get you.

The last thing you remember before blacking out was Robin— aka Damian— kicking you into the water with Nightwing— aka Dick— by his side.

Yeah, that's right, you know their identity.

You had to admit it took you a while to figure it out, but when you did, you honestly weren't that surprised.

What did surprise you, however, was how quickly you found Superman's identity.

That and how he hid it.

God, the people of Gotham can be so stupid sentimes

I mean— he had the money and the family, so why not?

Anyways, that's not important.

What is important, however, was for you to get out of here.

You had woken up about five minutes ago, but you made no move to show it.

You tried your best to gather some information on where and how you got here.

But that was easier said than done when you were put in the hospital room that was boarded off from the rest of what you assumed to be the Batcave.

Suddenly, the door opened and you heard two heavy footsteps enter the room, along with a light one.

"How do you find them?" a deep voice, who you assumed was Bruce, asked.

"This little demon spawn here kicked them into the water and they passed out", Dick explained.

"Hey!" Damian hissed. "I already said I was sorry", his voice sounded lower and a bit guilty than before.

Bruce only hummed, stepping closer to you and it took everything in you not to freak out.

He reached his hand out to brush a strand of hair from your face and you internally thanked him because that strand had been tickling and annoying you since you woke up.

"Well, they're something" he started plainly and they simply hummed in response.

The door opened and another set of step walked in.

"What did you find on them?" Bruce asked the mystery person.

"Well, they live in an orphanage not too far from here. Actually, its the same one Dick grew up in." his voice was tired, deep, and familiar... Ah! Tim, aka Red Robin

He continued, "Their mom and dad died a couple years ago in a car accident driving and left an inheritance of 3,000 dollars that they will get once they turn 18. Oh! And I think they know our identity"

What? How the fuck did he-

"How the fuck do you know that?!" Damian asked, earning a light slap from Bruce.

"Language!" he demanded and you could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

"Oh, because they've been awake this whole time and they have a whole Google slide about us."

Fuck.

Your eyes snapped open and everybody turned to look at you.

An awkward beat passed when Dick finally broke the this atmosphere.

"I knew that".

You stood in front of the Batcomputer, arms crossed over your chest, as you watched the chaos fold right in front of you.

You changed out the hospital gown and borrowed one of Tims's old shirts that fit you like a glove.

Everybody was screaming at one another and all you did was lean back and quietly munch away on one of alfreds cookies.

His cookies were delicious and you'd gladly sell your soul for the recipe.

Speaking of Alfred, he walked up beside you with a tiny metal tray holding more cookies and gestured at you to take some more.

You gladly accepted with a small 'thank you' and he was on his way.

Jason had arrived not that long ago when he heard that they finally caught you.

He was mainly arguing with Damian and Bruce but you honestly didn't care all that much.

All you could focus on were the damn cookies.

What did catch your attention, however, was Bruce's next words.

"Why don't I just adopt them!? They already know our identity and they'd make a great addition to the family and team!" he screamed.

"Hell no" you and Damian screeched at the same time while everybody else kept quiet.

You briefly glanced at Damian only for him to look around the now quite room.

They seemed to be considering it.

Damian let out a sarcastic and breathy laugh. "There's no fucking way you're actually considering this, Father", he muttered under his breath but still loud enough for everybody to hear.

His voice was almost as small as he felt.

"For once, I agree with him" you said, pointing at him.

"Aw, look, they're both already getting along like siblings." Jadon pointed at you, "I'm gonna call you demon spawn 2.0" Jason teased and smirked.

You and Damian both snapped your heads at him and gave him the coldest glare you could muster at the same time.

Usually, Jason wouldve cowered away in fear but he was too busy laughing his ass off at the resemblance.

You both rolled your eyes and turned back to face Bruce and the others. At the same time without realizing it.

Again.

Some of them were holding back laughter while the rest had their mouth open in shock.

Damian tilted his head and you asked, "What?".

They shook their heads and went back to what they were talking about.

"Well, I don't see why not" Cass started from her spot on the table. "They already know our identity —like you said —and we could always train them to be better".

Everybody else nodded in agreement except for you and Damian, who stared in shock.

"I can't belive this-!"

"You can't be serious-!"

You and Damian spoke at the same time, causing both of you to snap your head ad glare at one another before turning your head again.

Bruce brought up a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose and sighed in annoyance.

He muttered random words under his breath for a moment as everybody stared at him in confusion.

He eventually snapped his head up and finally spoke; "It's final," he pointed at you, "you're getting adopted," he pointed and Damian, "and you two are getting along"

You both stared at him for a brief second, disbelief written all over your face as you began protesting rather loudly.

Bruce finally snapped and turned to look at you both. "I said it's final! You can't change my mind!" His voice was stern, and a bit scary, so you stayed quiet.

He sighed in relief once you actually shut up.

He turned his back to face you, muttering to himself again.

You leaned over to Damian and whispered, "does he do that often?".

Damian leaned in a bit too and answered, "yeah, but don't worry, you'll get used to it".

You nodded absently and straightedge your back again when Bruce turned to look at you two again

"See!" He gestured at you two, "you're already getting along well. Jason was right, now stop whining." He began walking away.

They're already making me grow white hairs, he thought

Jason dramatically gasped at his words and followed behind him. "What was that!?"

Finally! Im done! I really hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I love writing this. I'm really proud of how this turned out and I'm honestly kinda surprised that I managed to finish this quickly

-toes<3

[cas-backwards-tie]

Chapter Six: The Summer of a Lifetime

Heiress of Gotham

Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: With things out of the way and perhaps a little more trust, maybe the reader will finally start to make some progress, and a few friends along the way.

Warnings: Spying, Being Spied On, Insects, Wet T-Shirts, Flirting,

Words: 3.6k

A/N: While this chapter may seem like it takes a lot of twists in turns in the vignettes, it's sort of meant to reflect the ups and downs and small moments we have during summer. Honestly, though, this is perfect for the introduction of certain characters and plotlines I wanted!

It'd been an interesting end to the school year, really, and that's aside from the fact that you'd had to deal with and go through the grief of your Mother passing. Within the few months you'd been at Wayne Manor, the family had quickly learned many things about you. Bruce had found out how frugal and tenacious you are, insistent on selling some of your old articles of clothing for money on some app he could never remember the name of, meanwhile refuting the many attempts he'd offered to take you out shopping. Who wants to go shopping with their Dad anyway? He'd been consumed with work, and therefore more time had been turned over to your brothers.

While school was out for both you and Damian, Tim had decided to take summer classes at the nearby community college since it'd make his college applications only look better. Dick, of course, was still working, and Jason, really, you had no idea what was going on with him since it seemed he had most days free and nights taken. While you'd considered the possibility that someone associated with the Wayne family had a night-time job, you also didn't want to think of someone who very quickly became a big brother to you in that manner. That was just... ew. With the three eldest gone or rarely home, you'd been left with Damian and Alfred mostly.

--------

“So… you’re spying on your own child because…?” Tim draws out, leaning against the motherboard as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Because it’s Bruce? You’re not the first. Thought you would’ve been the wiser, Green Bean,” Dick chides as he manually stitches another loop into his uniform. Seated on the edge of the metal table propped against the railing on the opposite side of the platform.

“She’s been watching television for over two hours straight. Is this unhealthy?” The man of the hour speaks, eyes unmoving from the image of you through the lens of one of his pesky drones.

“Hey, you’re the one who’s supposed to be parenting, yeah? You chose to bring her in, you choose what’s healthy and unhealthy,” the elder boy retorts, a clear sass in his tone that reminds Bruce where Damian’s gotten it from.

“Hn,” the old man groans, “That doesn’t mean I know what’s currently the standard in teenagedom,” he grumbles more to himself than anyone.

“Have you tried, I don’t know, just talking to her?” Tim asks, an eyebrow quirking as he doesn’t try and hide the amused smile breaking across his lips.

“You’re one to talk,” Bruce teases the boy. He’s still somewhat resentful of the way he’d handled things with Stephanie a few years ago now. Leaving her in the lurch only for her to seek answers by prying into their life.

A huff of annoyance leaves Tim and he rolls his eyes. Pushing off the computer, he turns to head for the stairs when he spots movement on the monitor. Dick doesn’t seem to care, rather, he’s focused on fixing and upgrading his equipment. However, Tim had come to a halt, now watching from just a few feet behind the old man’s chair. His drone follows you as you get up, bringing an empty dish and glass to the kitchen. You don’t notice, of course, as Tim knows this has to be one of the nano drones, most likely disguised as a fly following your movements through the Manor just a few hundred feet above them.

It’s uninteresting, really, the way he watches you put your empty dish in the sink along with your glass. Your visage shifts, heading back to the living room, but doesn’t fail to notice the nano drone. “Spotted,” Tim announces, curious to see where this goes.

“That doesn’t mean anything. Most people aren’t fazed by an insect,” Bruce defends, finally taking his gaze off the screen for a mere moment as he turns to Tim. The boy watches as you step closer to the drone; the still fly on the fridge’s handle was easy to spot, and while your eyes quickly move on in an attempt to seem as if you hadn’t noticed the bug, not wanting to disrupt it or scare it away, you step closer to the fridge.

On top of the box lies an item you’ve been grateful for ever since you’d gotten your Mom to buy it for you offline. Easily stepping on your tiptoes you grab the object’s handle and have your finger ready atop the trigger. Now all that’s left is to catch it off-guard.

The amused look on Tim’s face makes Bruce paranoid; blue eyes racing back to the monitor, he watches as a tennis-racket swatter comes his way. Lifting the nanodrone up and off the surface he barely escapes the touch of the electric swatter. Bzzt! He’s hit. Flying across the kitchen and landing on the counter, he turns the drone around to get you in frame again. “And you thought she wouldn’t do anything,” Tim laughs. An error message pops up, screen turning red along with the artificial voice alert. Clearly you’ve damaged the drone.

“It only took twenty-five percent capacity,” Bruce announces, clicking different keys to get everything back to neutral.

This elicits Dick’s eyes as his focus shifts up to the situation before him. An amused smile graces his lips and he can’t help but sometimes pity the man. Bruce… tries. He means well, but he doesn’t always have the best approach. “Gotta say, this is better than reality tv.” His Father shakes his head and, attention finally returning to the monitor once again after being distracted by Tim.

“You risked a drone for this? Come on, man. This is your own daughter we’re talking about,” Tim chastises. Even if he’s still laughing and more than amused by this. If he wants to waste his tech, by all means, let them watch. It’s not like he can’t get more.

The men watch as you look around the kitchen, eyes taking everything in. With an occasional turn, and a flip of your hair, he’s spotted again! This time Bruce sees you coming before he can be squashed. Out of sight, out of mind, he thinks. “Honestly, I’m just lucky she didn’t spot me earlier. Ace and Titus weren’t the most helpful considering they kept tracking my movements, clueing her in. But she didn’t get me until now.”

“I’m impressed she even got you at all, honestly,” Dick comments, drawing their attention again.

“Not a fan?” Tim asks, curious to hear his thoughts. After all, he hasn’t been around as much considering things have been busy with school, and hectic with Stephanie. Therefore, he doesn’t know as much about you. He hasn’t spent as much time around you as the others.

Met with a noncommittal noise, Tim watches Dick shrug. “I’ve got nothing against her aside from what she said at dinner and obviously her hate for the BPD,” he trails off, a shudder running through him, “then again, she was kind of insane when we were moving her stuff. Threatened to kill us and all. Not really the type of vibe you wanna have running around the house, you know? At least, not mine, I’ll tell you that.” With a chuckle, Dick lifts the needle to his mouth, teeth going for the fabric since he hadn’t bothered to grab scissors.

Tim almost laughs along with his brother, that is until he processes what he’d said. “Wait, what-?!” Eyes quickly darting between him and Bruce, he’s suddenly alert. “What do you mean she tried to kill you?! What’re you talking about? Hey- why didn’t you tell me this?” He zeroes in on Bruce, determined to get an answer. “Does Damian know? Why am I the last one to find out about anything around here?” He complains.

“I mean she tried to-” Dick begins.

“She did not! Dick, stop exag-”Bruce interrupts, turning to face them and argrue.

“Bruce-” Tim interjects, eyes suddenly on your approaching visage in the drone’s visual. “Bruce!” You’ve got the fly cornered. With one swift sweeping wack, and a press of the button, it’ll die.

“What?!” He yells. As soon as he turns back from Tim to the monitor he’s too late. Zzztt!!! They all grimace and wince. An alert pops up on screen:

‘V I S U A L L O S T’

The options to ‘connect to different device’ or ‘relay input’ lie underneath the big text, but ultimately you’d destroyed the thing. With the click of a button Bruce closes the tab and the background feed of the Manor’s security cameras linger. Alfred dances in the office as he dusts along, presumably, to music—Bruce knows his routine. On another, you’re carrying the nanodrone on the electric swatter to the trash, disposing of the ‘fly’ you’d killed. Lastly, Damian is reading, doing his homework as he sits in an armchair by the fireplace in the Library, Titus curled up by his feet.

“Dammit! This is why you can’t just be in here. You’re either here for a purpose or you’re out,” Bruce dictates. “Dick is actually doing something, Tim. You’re just gossiping.” With a defeated drop of his hands to the desk, he raises himself from his computer chair and rounds Tim.

“You still didn’t tell me what happened,” Tim argues, the anger in his voice no longer hiding. “I’m tired of being out of the loop! What happened?” He demands. A sigh weighs Bruce’s shoulders down, and as Dick finally lifts his gaze to take in the men before him, he doesn’t dare to add any more fuel to the already burning fire.

“She was involved with Marin. Alright? She thought he was coming for her, momentarily figured we were in on it. Satisfied?” Bruce responds, turning to face the boy.

They all know he’s been hurt. That he has trauma… it’s no secret. Yet, it’s only in few and far between moments that the boys are able to see things for what they are in a crystal-clear view. This is one of those times. Their warped views on good and evil, right and wrong, revenge and punishment… they blur the lines of reality in ways he’s sure that you, a civilian, would never understand, and yet… Tim realizes the weight of this.

“Who-?”

“Angel Marin. Bludhaven’s biggest mob boss,” Dick informs. A ‘Hn’ leaves Bruce’s lips as he makes his way toward the stairs, and a sigh leaves Tim. With a grateful nod in Grayson’s direction, Tim follows after Bruce.

------

“You know, someone mentioned your birthday is coming up,” Bruce teases, a hint of a smile hiding behind his wine glass.

The quick flash of a smile overtakes your face before you try to hide it. None of them miss it. “Um… yeah. W-who said?”

It’s invisible, perhaps, to all besides those who know him best, however, Bruce pales at the question, faltering. While you’re good at reading people, you don’t notice. Whether it’s the subject matter or the way everyone’s staring, you simply wait for a response.

“Uh, the-” he clears his throat, eyes suddenly downcast as he reaches for his knife and fork to cut his steak, “the social worker! Yes, she mentioned it while you were in your meeting.” Obviously a lie. If anyone truly knows Bruce the way most at the table do, they'd know he found it in your public files and digital footprint.

“Oh,” you respond, putting on a fake smile as you too attempt to hide behind the meal. Birthdays can be a big deal for some, and others, not. It all depends, and you aren't sure where things lie in this family. You still feel like an outsider, despite their attempts, and you don't want to burden them further.

“We could have a party!” Damian suggests, to everyone’s surprise.

“You just want a party,” Jason comments with a chortle.

“Is there anything you want?” Dick asks thoughtfully, looking down at you from your side, putting you on the spot. His kind blue eyes stir something within you, and you turn your gaze back to your plate. Busying yourself by cracking your knuckles, your lips purse into a line. With a shake of your head, it’s clear no one is sated.

“There’s nothing you want? At all?” Bruce prods, eliciting your eye contact again. Lips pursing even more you shake your head again.

“Um,” eyes falling to your lap you collect yourself, not allowing your imagination to run wild. “You taking me in was enough. Thank you.” Voice quiet, everyone has their own reaction to your words, albeit unbeknownst to you.

“Oh, shut up! You know there’s at least one thing you want,” Jason teases from across the table.

“Oh? And what’s that since you know her so well?” Tim pries, knowing he’s setting his brother up. Jason hesitates, almost choking on his drink which elicits laughs from the boys, and an amused smile from Bruce. As bickering starts to ensue, you decide.

“I-” all eyes turn to you, “I want a party!” You announce. With a confident smile, you figure, how bad could it be? After all, parties don't need to be big! Something sweet, the family there, and a boardgame is all you'd need for it to be considered a party to you.

“See? At least I know what she wants,” Damian chides proudly.

“Oh? Well what kind of party would you like?” Bruce asks.

“Who do you want to invite?” Dick inquires.

“What’s the theme?” Jason adds.

“Actually, isn’t your birthday coming up now that I think of it?” Tim voices his concern over to Jason.

“Uh…” Jason shakes his head a little, taken aback, “I mean, I don’t really celebrate anymore since-”

“-the same day as Alfred’s, that’s right,” Bruce saves them, an unfazed smile on his lips, “though I believe we can celebrate both, can’t we?” While you’re not exactly paying attention, to the rest of them there’s a silent, yet menacing request behind his eyes. It’s clear they’re not allowed to speak freely anymore, no matter your new seat at the table of their family.

“Okay, but mine comes first- or did you forget again?” Damian asks with a bite. Upon the silence, he rolls his eyes and goes back to his meal with the exasperated sound of his breath hitting his tongue against his teeth. An audible ‘Tt’ sound.

“I didn’t forget, Damian,” Bruce clenches his jaw and grips his glass a little tighter. Does every family dinner have to turn into a fight? “You know I was with the Just-” he catches himself, “Hn- that I had to-”

“-just business calls… we’re well aware, Father. Perhaps you’ll do yourself a favor and won’t miss your other child’s birthday,” Damian finishes the conversation. “Not that I count on it.”

--------

Walking through the pool room, you’re focused on texting Daisha, intent on telling her the good news!

‘Omg you’ll never guess what just happened! I’ll hav-’

Splash!

A dissatisfied shriek escapes your lips as you stare at the wet stain on your shirt. “Really?! Dami-" looking up from your drenched navy tank top, your eyes widen and lips part.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I thought you were Damian.”

You quickly take in the super-soaker and the boy’s apologetic expression, and it’s easy enough to put two and two together. As footsteps quietly click against the tiled floors of the locker rooms leading toward the pool deck, you grab the boy’s hand and drag him back the way he’d come around the corner. There lies a linen closet between the pool, laundry room, and stairwell. With a swift hand, you open the door and shove him in, following after as you quietly shut the door.

A bemused smile appears on his lips as his eyebrows furrow. “You’re his sister,” he whispers with certainty, “I’m Billy.”

Whispering back your name, he repeats it. Visibly eager on saying something else, you place your fingers on his lips to shut him up. He follows your eyesight, both of you staring through the slats in the closet door. With a keen ear, he gets the gist and remains quiet. As moments pass, you can feel the boy, Billy, staring; curious, you meet his gaze only to find him searching your eyes. You can’t help but notice how pretty his are. Though you almost get swept up in admiring his features, you hear a faint creak only meters away outside the door; with a motion of your other hand, you beckon him to hand you the gun.

Transferred into your open hand, you slowly remove your fingers from his lips, cupping the barrel of the super-soaker while the other wraps around the handle, fingers ready at the trigger. With a head nod toward the door, you mouth the words: ‘On three! Ready?’

Billy seems to understand, as he holds his hands up in a ready stance to push open the doors. Together, you both mouth the countdown (which is really a count up, but anyway): ‘One… Two…’

“THREE!” Busting out of the closet, Damian is just a few feet from your right. It’s easy to spin and shoot as you’d been prepared, having watched him walk past the door together. Your brother had jumped, yet shot a few instinctive rounds of water, splashing both you, Billy, and the wall.

“Shit! What the hell! What are you doing here? Who let you play?” Damian curses, saying something in a language you don’t recognize, holding his gun in a stationary position once you’ve all recovered from the attack. His suspicious green eyes narrow as they dart between the two of you.

“I figured it was only fair since you didn’t let me know about your little game and I got caught in the crossfire,” you reason, pointing to your shirt with the gun.

“I accidentally shot her thinking I had you cornered, so…” Billy’s words die on his tongue. Without sparing the kid a glance, you shove the super-soaker back in his hands before offering him a grateful smile. At least you’d hit Damian once, you figure. With that, you’re more than happy to abandon the boys to their games as you walk toward the laundry room to see if your clothes are finished drying. That was the whole reason you were down here in the first place, after all.

“You didn’t tell me she was my age!” You hear Billy yell before a series of exclamations and curses follow with the sound of splashing water and rapidly receding footsteps.

--------

As stupid as it was to find your thoughts continuing to drift back toward a certain brown hair, green-eyed boy, you couldn’t help it. Though you’ve grown more tolerable of one another over the past few months, you still can’t believe that one of Damian’s friends is who’s on your mind. Nevertheless, fate would seem to have an amusing time linking the two of you together, constantly running into the other.

You suppose it isn’t strange after all, especially when considering he is one of Damian’s friends… however, you find him over the at Manor more and more often after the initial time he’d quite literally bumped into you.

--------

“Grab me a juice box? I forgot one too-”Damian’s voice echoes throughout the theatre as Billy yells back an affirmative answer and heads back toward the kitchen.

“Oh, hey-" You greet, backing up as a familiar figure exits the home theatre.

“Hey- what’s up?” Billy asks, a friendly smile gracing his lips.

"Was just gonna get a snack before we start," you tell him, "Guess we're headed the same way then," you tease. Walking down the hallway and up the stairs to the kitchen, you're aware of your brother's friend just a few steps behind.

“Are you gonna watch with us?” Billy asks hopefully.

“I mean, if that’s okay, yeah, I was planning on it." You respond jokingly, not thinking about it too much. It is family movie night. After all, you’re focused, wanting this popcorn to be good, not a burnt pile of charcoal.

“Oh, I didn’t mea-”Billy goes to correct himself.

“It’s fine. I’ll be down in a minute, I’m just making my own popcorn because the boys would eat it all otherwise,” you joke. Surely since he's friends with Damian he knows what the guys are like.

“That’s smart- that way you don’t have to share and keep passing it back and forth the whole time.” Billy adds on.

“Yeah. Do you want some? I can make another little packet,” You offer.

“Sure! I can do it though, you don’t have t-” He argues.

“-I don’t mind! I've gotta wait for it anyway and grab some bowls. So I'll see you down there!" With that reassurance, Billy offers you one last smile before taking the juice boxes downstairs.

The older boys and your Father had insisted you pick the movie considering it's your first movie night with the family, and while most of them had been dreading what genre you'd pick, everyone ended up excited to watch a classic comedy most of them hadn't seen in years. Snuggled up under the fluffy blankets with your popcorn and the laughs of your brothers all around, you couldn't help but enjoy the fun.

--------

Most of the summer felt like it was spent in your room. Whether it was trying to explore the things that truly make you happy, or being lonely in a place that still feels entirely all too unfamiliar despite the fact that it's been a couple months.

The material things did help at first, the new environment, the little gifts your Father and brothers would treat you to, like those little Squishmallows you'd always seen and wanted at the store, but never bought yourself. They were more expensive than you'd ever thought to casually pay. Nevertheless, you've started to make your room truly your own. With decorating, personalizing, and getting into your own sort of routine, it seems that everyone has been slowly becoming used to this new lifestyle.

Alfred insisted that as summer begins to come to a close, you all decide on either making time for a vacation, or perhaps you and Damian get involved in extra curriculars. In the sake of preparation for school, you'd taken up driving lessons as you'll soon be old enough to begin the process of obtaining your permit. Then there was also the announcements from the school you'll be attending in the fall; with sports and clubs gearing up for homecoming, tryouts were coming up. Your Father had insisted that Damian consider a sport this year, and Alfred equally has been trying to push you in any sort of direction that'll lead to getting you out of the house and your room.

Needless to say, he wouldn't let go of the idea that your mental health could use less isolation and more friends, hobbies, and pursuance of your 'passions' even if you're not entirely sure what those are yet. It didn't take long for you to succumb to your butler (essentially) grandpa's badgering. Though you have a plan in mind for what sport you'll be trying out for, you haven't revealed them to the family. The way they seem to share everything is... still new, and somewhat unsettling to you.

~~~~~~~~

forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic ,@moonlightsolo

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[burntoutwaxwings]

Okay so I was reading Absolute Batman the other day and I just had to know what an Absolute Nightwing would look like in this universe. Here is my draft.

The Flying Grayson's die. The difference is, Bruce isn't around. He never even heard about Dick Grayson. Dick, obviously stricken with grief, finds an outlet a lot of people find as helpful - a martial art. Specifically, Capoeira.

His Mentor (I know nothing of Capoeira, I'm using it because it best represents how I envision Nightwing fights. I'm calling the guy who does the teaching 'Mentor') starts noticing a bad habit within Dick's sparring sessions. He's too aggressive. He goes for incapacitation too quickly and harshly for his fellow students. His Mentor kicks him out of the Dojo (again, bare with me. I know nothing!!!)

The Joker takes notice of this. He sees an orphan, violent and lashing out, and tries to manipulate young Dick. (He's 16 or 17 now. I can't have him be twelve. Not in the Absolute Universe.)

It works. In the short term. Over time though, he starts seeing some odd things. Joker never laughs at jokes. Never smiles. He's cold and calculating, and he never, ever, let's his guard down. Over time, we see Alfred pop up in a few panels. (Starting the third book. I think that's perfect.) Dick immediately takes notice. One night, he confronts Alfred, nearly getting the jump on the old man. Alfred, working with the Batman, doesn't even flinch. This is a common occurrence. Bruce just shows up, out of nowhere, pretty often.

Alfred: Alright Bat. You've had your fun. Let's get some more Intel on my guy.

Dick: Who TF are YOU!??? Why are you stalking me? Who is "Bat"?

Alfred, immediately recognizing this wasn't the Batman, turns around, gun pointed at Dick's center mass.

A: Who are you?? How did you get here??! Tell me why I shouldn't knock off this building right now!!

Alfred had obviously not hesitated to use his non lethal rounds to knock back Dick, and now that he had the kid trapped on a ledge, he figured he was in a good position to get some answers.

Okay that's about the rest of the mockup I can do for this version. Alt version is Dick is the rich one and grew up in a manor near Arkham. Parents never die, yada yada. I think the premise should be relatively the same though. Kid out for revenge, doesn't have Bruce as a mentor, generally a reject, and violent. Goes on a "vengeance spree" in which he is actually being manipulated by Joker, and ends up becoming Nightwing by the end of the 5th book. This series would need some serious Time skips.

[maccreadysbaby]

House of Wolves

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

bet you didn’t know you were about to witness the absolute worst day of bentleys life

part ten

❝ FREEFALL ❞

SUNDAY — JUNE 4 — 12:11AM

THE DAYS SEEMED TO FLY BY IN A MUTED HUM, WEEKS TURNING INTO MONTHS, TIME SEEMING TO FOLD IN ON ITSELF AS THE SUMMER CONTINUED TO PROGRESS. Gotham got hotter, the days grew longer, and life continued to move.

Bellamy had gotten woefully grounded for, like, three weeks after Bruce found out about his escapade -- which wasn't very difficult, seeing as he was the best detective in the world. Bentley was just thankful he didn't get in trouble for it.

Of course, as soon as he was ungrounded, Bellamy went right back to hanging out with the same friends, though he was careful about Bruce's new curfew and location rules. (Whether he was careful about obeying them or about finding ways to inch around them, Bentley didn't know -- and he wasn't sure he wanted to.)

Life was pretty normal for a summer spent in the Manor -- long nights, bright smiles, and some of the most unbelievably enjoyable chaos -- all except the one person who was usually by Bentley's side who was noticeably missing. He made sure to text and call Vera every single day, every single moment he could. It was weird not having her around -- she'd all but lived with them over the last few years -- but the videos and pictures she posted of her living her dream made up for it tenfold. She was out there being a rockstar, and the tour was skyrocketing her band into almost instantaneous popularity. Just in the span of the two months since she'd left, they'd hit two, three, four, and then five million followers on almost every platform.

Naturally, seeing as he was in almost all of her pre-tour posts, Bentley got a large amount of people following him and messaging him and posting about him, too. He couldn't bring himself to like it very much. But if constant notifications were the price he had to pay for the girl he loved to do what she'd wanted to do all her life, he'd accept it happily.

Besides, he couldn’t bring himself to mind the notifications on that particular Sunday -- mostly because each one was a reminder that Vera had just finished up concerts in New York and was going to drop by the Manor that night to see everybody as the tour ventured through their area. It wasn’t going to be a long visit, maybe just an hour before she had to be back on the road, but he was just giddy that he’d get to see her before she was gone overseas for an unholy amount of time.

But, alas, it was only noon, and she wouldn’t be there for another seven or eight hours -- which meant he had to find a way to kill the time so he didn’t spend all day staring at a clock.

For now, his mean of distraction was sparring. Bruce had made it a family requirement for everybody in the Manor to know how to defend themselves, all the way from Alfred (who had no shame in whipping out a shotgun, so Bruce had paid top dollar for training programs Bentley was sure the veteran didn’t need.) all the way down to Bellamy, the youngest in the house. Even the dogs knew attack and defend commands, both verbal and visual. 

Most of the inhabitants of the Manor trained at least a little every day, whether for their health, for their confidence, for fun, or just for a distraction. Bruce liked to test them on their progress by occasionally performing infamous random attacks in the middle of their otherwise normal lives. Bentley had been hit outside of his room, in the kitchen, and in the library, all in the past two weeks. The most notable of these frequent occurrences took place on a cloudy morning a few months ago, when Bruce decided to attack Asten in the kitchen at six in the morning. His response was to dump his cereal over Bruce’s head. Asten still boasted about how it had stopped his pursuit.

Currently, though, the sparring was not amusing, distracting, enjoyable, or any other positive words that could've possibly been associated with it. Right now, it was downright torturous -- mostly because Bentley was spending the entirety of the session plastered to the black and red mats in the batcave’s training room.

He groaned dramatically, wiping his hands over his face as he tried to catch his breath. He'd been down there for hours already -- his clothes were sticking to him and it seemed unbearably hot despite them being in a literal cave. “This is so unfair!”

“You need to be able to take down someone bigger than you at a moment's notice,” Jason replied. He was hovering nearby, wearing workout clothes but barely sparring with them at all, mostly pretending to look cool. (He had been a little miffed when he found out that Rockie had a white streak, too, claiming that he was the only one cool enough for that, and Bentley was pretty sure he’d been trying to be cooler ever since then. He wasn’t sure it was working.)

“Yeah,” Bentley wheezed, laying flat on his back and staring up at the bright LED lights that lined the ceiling above him. They were reflected in a giant wall of mirrors a few feet past Bentley's head, making the room look twice as big -- even though it was already, like, sixty-by-sixty. “But not everyone bigger than me also has super strength.”

Valor was standing in front of Bentley, his platinum wings twitching eagerly on his back as he looked down at him triumphantly, his blue eyes glimmering with something mischievous. “I was hardly trying.”

His London accent was still just as thick as the day Bentley had met him, and it made the whole sentence sound even more mocking than it already was.

Bentley glared up at him, blankly. “Yeah. I bet.”

With a snort, Valor held a hand out to him, and Bentley took it begrudgingly. The older boy hoisted him off of the mat like he weighed no more than a sheet of paper, and Bentley envied how easy it came to him. Now that he had his strength and knew the actual technique behind hand-to-hand, he was quite literally unbeatable in the training room, even besting Bruce probably more than half of the time nowadays. He’d been invited on patrol several times and, honestly, Bentley was shocked he didn’t have his own domino yet.

With a heavy exhale, Bentley rubbed a hand over his face, his eyes moving between the pair then settling on Jason. He flicked a hand in Valor's direction. “I can’t beat him. He’s, like, two feet taller than me.”

Jason snickered lightly, something like nostalgia swirling in the backs of his greenish blue eyes. He raked a hand through his black and white hair with an exhale.

“You can’t if you think you can’t,” He replied oh-so-helpfully, crossing his arms. “Your center of balance is the most valuable weapon in unarmed combat. You’ve had grappling training; remember it."

“I had grappling training against Tim and Damian -- the two smallest people in the family besides me,” Bentley grumbled, walking to one end of the room near the mirrors. There was a bench there that had his phone and water bottle on top, and he grabbed the bottle, opening it and taking a sip. “Now we’ve skipped everyone else and put me against the one with super strength.”

Jason shrugged. "Versatility."

“Who knows,” Valor continued, a playful edge in his voice. “Maybe one day I’ll turn evil and you’ll have to fight me.”

Bentley snorted, swallowing a mouthful of water and putting the bottle back on the bench. “I think I’ll just die instead.”

Valor chuckled, and Jason shook his head, amused.

“Go on. Try again," He urged, gesturing to Valor. "Valor won’t even fight back this time.”

Bentley sighed deeply, knowing full well he was about to be humiliated for likely the hundredth time that day. He stepped away from the bench and came back over, settling back into a combat ready position just across from his opponent. “Alright. But you’re paying for my physical therapy.”

Jason shook his head again with a faint smile. “Go.”

Bentley, with an exhale, shook his hands out by his sides and looked back at Valor. He was just standing there casually like nothing was happening around him. His wings were fluttering slightly in anticipation. Bentley had learned over the years how to see the minor differences in the way his wings subconsciously moved, almost like a second expression, another way to gauge how he was feeling. Though, right now, they only seemed to be taunting him.

With a grimace, Bentley tried again. He tried a single leg takedown, and when he wasn’t strong enough to move Valor that way, he tried a double leg, then a hinge move that focused more on manipulating the balance of his upper body. None of them worked in the slightest. Valor may have been caught off balance for a half second. After a while of fruitless attempts, all Valor had to do was grab Bentley’s wrist and pull it nonchalantly behind his back, and he was suddenly laying, face down, pinned to the mat by nothing more than tension.

Bentley tapped out, and Valor let go of him.

“This is pointless,” Bentley whined, rolling over so he was on his back again, staring up at the lights he was pretty sure he was on a first name basis with now.

"Hip throw him. It's the easiest takedown in the book," Jason suggested.

"What book?" Bentley mumbled, pulling himself off the mat and settling into combat position again.

Valor suddenly snickered. "The book for little people."

Bentley feigned a scowl in his direction, and Valor only chuckled at him.

"Remember, trap the shoulder, pivot, and use your entire body weight to throw him," Jason explained. "Make sure you get the full range of movement on the hinge. All your momentum comes from there."

Bentley shook his head lightly. "Okay."

"Go,"

Bentley did all the steps in perfect succession. He trapped Valor's shoulder under his own, pivoted and put his feet in the perfect position, just in line with his, but when the time came for Bentley to actually use his momentum or whatever to send Valor over his shoulder, the entire thing fell short. He felt like he used every ounce of strength inside of him, but all it really did was make Valor stumble into him and nearly knock him over.

"Keep the distance between the two of you closed at all times. This kind of combat only works if you can control the other person's body,"

Bentley reset and tried again. The second time, he could've swore Valor's feet left the floor, but a split second later he was still upright and Bentley was just holding onto him awkwardly. He tried the final throw again but it still didn't work, resulting in another two-man stumble that would've had him dead if he were in a real fight scenario.

"Make sure you get his center of balance up. Don't just imagine flipping him, imagine throwing him across a football field. That's the kind of force you need to use," Jason continued to spew tips that seemed to come naturally to literally everyone in the entire house except Bentley.

He reset again with a huff, settling just in front of Valor.

"You're not going to hurt me," Valor insisted with a sly wink. "Come on."

Bentley tried again. And again. And again. Each time he did the move brilliantly up until the last part, the main part, the actual hip throwing part of the hip throw. He was doing it right -- he knew he was, but somehow, every single time Valor either fell into him, stumbled, or stayed perfectly upright. Frustrated, Bentley tried one last time, determined to get it right.

His grip slipped at the last minute and, if not for his fast reflexes allowing him time to shoot his arms out in front of him, he'd have face planted.

With a long, defeated huff, he sat back onto his knees and shook his head, chest heaving. "I'm done -- I can't."

"Oh, come on," Jason argued, taking a step forward, his reflection coming close to Bentley's in the mirror. “I’ve seen you hip throw Dick before. He’s pretty close to Valor's size. And he was fighting back.”

“But Dick’s soft,” Bentley replied. He sat back and then laid down on the mat, folding his arms under the back of his head and giving himself a moment to breathe. He saw Valor move in the mirror, to the other end of the room where his water bottle was. “I knew I could take him.”

Jason lingered nearby and hummed thoughtfully. Suddenly, his eyes lit up as though he'd made a striking revelation, and he pointed at Bentley with a snap. “Exactly."

Bentley waited a moment. When no further explanation was given, he raised his brows at him. “What?”

“Confidence is the only thing you’re lacking. If you think you’re going to lose, you will,” He replied. “You said trying to win against Valor is pointless -- and if you feel like there’s no point, you’re going to fight like there's no point. Even if you aren’t fully aware of it. That's why you were able to beat Dick but aren’t able to beat Valor.”

Bentley sighed lightly, offering no response. Valor had taken a drink of water and was now drifting back over. Upon his arrival, he extended a hand again, and Bentley begrudgingly let him pull him out of the floor.

“Here’s some brotherly advice, then we’re done for the day," Jason started, clapping Bentley on the back like Bruce after one of his kids did something impressive. "Go into every fight like you’re hot shit-” He ordered, pointing a finger at Bentley. “-and you can’t lose.”

“I don’t think Bruce would agree with that,” Valor snickered, crossing his arms over his chest.

Jason shrugged, swinging an arm around Bentley's shoulders uncaringly. “Bruce also can’t use a toaster. His opinion is currently irrelevant."

Bentley snickered as he walked over to the benches that lined the walls of the training room, grabbing his water bottle off of it and taking a sip. He tapped his phone so the screen lit up, checking the time. He’d sparred for four hours and it was nearing four in the afternoon. Why did time seem to creep when something exciting was coming up?

With a sigh, he made his way back up to the Manor and up into his room, where he took a shower that was way longer and hotter than necessary. After that, he stared at his phone, went and played a few games of uno with a revolving door of people who lived in the Manor, listened to some songs Asten was working on (He basically had a whole music studio set up in his bedroom. Bentley was pretty sure he could have produced an entire song in there, but he never used it for himself. He always used it to work on the music he helped write for Vera.) and then did some random tasks and bored activities until, finally, he got the text that Vera was about fifteen minutes from the Manor and would be driving out there in a rental car to see everyone.

Everyone knew she was coming, but Bentley was the most excited, as he should’ve been. He spent the next ten minutes sitting on his bed; waiting for another text or the faint sound of a car outside. He scrolled uselessly on his phone — though he couldn’t bring himself to actually pay attention to anything he was seeing on the screen.

His phone suddenly rang, piercing through the air of his bedroom, and his heart jumped — but when he focused on the caller ID, it was one he hadn’t been expecting.

Chase. Vera’s lead guitar.

Bentley scrunched his face up, a sudden twinge of worry stabbing through him. With a furrowed brow, he answered the call, bringing it up to his ear. “Hey, man. What’s going on?”

“Hey,” Chase replied. He sounded unsure of himself on the other end of the line, like he felt really awkward, or sheepish. Bentley wasn’t sure why. “I was just, uh… calling to check on you.”

Bentley was utterly confused. He pulled his phone away and glanced at the caller ID again just to make sure it was actually Chase and, with a few blank blinks, he brought it back to his ear. “Uh, okay. Why?”

“What?” Chase questioned as though Bentley had said something baffling. “What do you mean why?! You know what I mean! I wasn’t just going to call and, like, just say it to your face, because, you know, that’s kind of insensitive, but-”

“Chase,” Bentley started, throwing his legs off the side of the bed and rubbing a hand over his face. “What in the world are you talking about right now?”

Bentley briefly thought Chase may have been drunk, but Vera had said they were going to be adamant about avoiding that sort of thing even at after-parties and such. He guessed it wouldn’t be hard for one of them to break the rule they’d made for themselves, but then again, Chase didn’t exactly sound drunk. He sounded… nervous. Almost sad.

“Bentley,” He whined.

“Chase,” Bentley started, slowly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

There was a long sigh on the other end of the line, sort of exasperated, like Bentley was doing something a little irritating but Chase didn’t actually want to be irritated at him.

“The breakup, dude,” Chase replied simply. He sounded guilty for even mentioning it, an almost tangible pity and regret laced into his words.

“Breakup?” Bentley repeated, rising to his feet. “What breakup?”

Chase sighed again. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, deadly,” Bentley said, blankly, his nerves now buzzing angrily beneath his skin. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Who broke up?”

There was a third exasperated sigh. “Look, she told us not to talk to you, you know, to take her side and stuff… but I was like, you know, I should check on him, too. But if I had known you were going to pretend it never even happened-“

“Chase,” Bentley repeated, utterly flabbergasted. “Stop, stop, stop. Are you saying you think Vera and I broke up?”

“Obviously!” He retorted quickly. There was a long silence. “… didn’t you?”

Bentley stayed deathly silent for a few long moments, swallowing thick. “No, we… She's on her way here right now. She’s texting me.”

“What?” Chase murmured. “What do you mean?”

“I mean she’s coming here to see me. We didn’t break up, Chase. Who told you that?” Bentley urged. He had to fight a slight sense of panic that was trying to claw it's way up his throat. “Chase?”

“…Vera did,” Chase replied, his voice now quiet, a mere murmur, like the whole situation was too big for him. “Two weeks ago. She told us you broke up with her.”

Bentley blinked. He pulled his phone away from his ear with Chase still on the line and pulled up Vera’s instagram, scrolling down past all the concert photos. His face was still plastered all over it, smiling and laughing with her in various photographs and videos. “I… I don’t understand. Why would she say that? I’m still all over her social media. She didn’t say anything to me. I don’t…”

“She said it would hurt too much to take all the pictures down,” Chase replied carefully. Something else slipped into his tone — something like dread. “Bentley… I really hope you’re lying… or you’ve lost your mind or something.”

“Chase. Listen to me,” Bentley said, very clearly and slowly. “Me and Vera never broke up.”

There was a long pause. Then:

“Fuck,” Chase groaned. “She told us all, our managers, the team, the band… she said she didn’t want to go public with it yet…”

“Why would she tell you that?” Bentley urged. When Chase didn’t answer for a second, he pressed him on. “Chase!”

“Bentley,” He said, solemnly, slowly. “You have to believe me when I say everyone thought she was single.”

Bentley sat down again, suddenly sort of faint. He almost didn’t want to know what Chase was about to say. But he knew he needed to know. 

A second passed.

“She’s been sleeping with Jaden for a few weeks now,” He said, his voice sounding like something in the distance that hardly wanted to be heard. “We… I… she must’ve told us she was single to… so we didn’t confront her, or something… I… ”

Chase spoke more, but Bentley didn’t hear him. He didn’t hear anything, really, other than a steady, piercing ring that had started to assault his ears. For a moment, he felt everything, but it was like he couldn’t feel anything at all. He was utterly blank. Emptied.

Chase was still speaking when Bentley murmured: “Thanks for telling me.” And hung up a half second later.

He suddenly felt sick. He tried to think through all the possibilities but he couldn’t seem to think. About anything. About any of it. He didn’t know what he felt. He didn’t know what he thought. He felt like someone had scraped everything out of him and only left his skin, a thin, fragile layer that would blow away in the slightest breeze.

His phone dinged.

He glanced down at it numbly. The name on the screen was Vera, and the message read: I’m here! <3

Bentley had to make himself stand up, very nearly swaying on his feet when he did. His phone slid out of his hand and plopped on his bed. He felt numb. Like he didn’t even exist.

He went into his bathroom, threw up, and then went downstairs to open the door.

—

tag list that KINDA works

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

@xiaonothere

@skylathescholarly @flyrobinflyy @bookwarm0-0

@custommadeazula

[arcticwolfpaws]

Gotham's light

Chapter 4: A night out

Faraj's P.O.V

When night fell in the manor everything got quiet fast, I noticed how quickly Bruce and Jason went to bed, the older boy who's name I'd forgotten at this point had stayed up with me for a while.

"Why did they go to sleep so early?"

"Oh it's kind of the normal here, don't worry about it you'll get use to it." He stated his voice never felt unkind and he never got suspicious of me like Jason had, or at least if he had he wasn't as open about it a Jason, We sat on the couch and watched a movie, about half way through he fell asleep, and I pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and covered him with it as the butler wandered in, I looked up at him and froze but the older man smiled softly at me,

"Once you're done young master let's get you ready for bed." I nodded unsure of what else to do I finished covering him, before heading over to the butler.

"I can't for the life of me remember your name or his." I stated and he hummed looking down at me for a moment, he reminded me of the friendly old grandpa's in movies and I liked that, Mr, Wilson said I wouldn't like my grand father, but if he was anything like the butler I would think that he was wrong.

"That's not a problem master Bruce once struggled with names as well, I am Alfred pennyworth, and the young man you were with is Richard Grayson he prefers to be called dick however." I nodded, I was going to forget that by morning. but I wasn't going to tell Alfred that, Actually I'd write it down. Alfred took me up to my room and settled me into bed, it felt... Odd having someone tuck me in, I didn't stay tucked long. I started with writing down those names.

'Richard (Dick) Grayson, collage student? doesn't seem to live in the manor,

Alfred Pennyworth, Kindly old butler,'

For a moment I thought about adding more to it but I decided not to for fear of how one might react if it was found.

with that I grabbed a dark hoodie and tied it around my waist, before pulling off my shirt, with a breath I let my wings start to form, it was simple painless but slower then I cared for telling me I likely hadn't formed them since I'd been in Gotham, first cam the bone Growing from just under my shoulder blades then the muscles before the skin and nerves, I flexed the bat like wings making sure everything was connected before I tried to fly, Once I was confident that every thing was working right I made my way to the window pulling it open, I looked down and let out a soft squeak causing my sonar to bounce off the ground, It seemed like it was roughly 15 feet down it gave me enough room to fly but I would have liked more.

With that out of my way I climbed onto the window sill and jumped letting my wings catch the air before I started to fly properly, I shivered feeling alive as I always did in flight I couldn't help myself I laughed as I did a barrel roll and flew towards Gotham, even though this was mostly for fun, I did need to see if I could fill in some of the blanks of my memory.

First on the list the blue man, I was supposed to be with. as I flew over the harbor I could hear the sounds of a city over the nice quiet sounds of the waves, police sirens and honking cars... I hated the city a place that never seemed to rest and seemed to always have noise I didn't under stand how people could deal with it. I flew higher as I got closer to the high rises wanting to stay out of sight the best that I could until I got to the factory district where I knew I was supposed to be staying.

I knew I was in the right place when the buildings all started to look the same and I landed letting my sonar bounce off the walls of buildings it helped me avoid any unwanted interactions as I found what I was looking for a low entrance near the water front, I slipped inside not making a sound as I stayed low for my own safety.

I spotted him speaking to a strange man in a black suite with a grumpy looking kid in a bright red and yellow costume, I stayed out of sight, the fact that this place was a freezer and my hair was white actually for once made it easier.

"So things are going well?" The low rumble of The man in blacks voice, it gave me pause why... why did that sound so familiar? I closed my eyes as I listened trying to piece this to gather.

"Yes and no, Every set back is a step forward batman." Blue man's voice was robotic that sounded right from what I remembered.

"Come on Batman, isn't there anything more interesting to do rather then standing around talking?" I recognized the voice instantly I had to keep myself from chocking audibly, wait if flag boy was Jason then... Was the man in black Bruce? I wondered to myself. when I looked back the were gone and I double checked with my sonar, once I knew they were gone I slowly stepped out and spoke.

"Blue man, I have some questions that I need answered." He jumped and spun around looking at me those eerie red goggles never bother me but I didn't like how I struggled to read his expression.

"I was warned that you were a meta human but I wasn't expecting wings on you." he stated stepping closer before speaking again as he looked me over.

"I was convinced that that brute had you killed." He stated and I hummed,

"What brute?" I shook my head realizing I needed to exsplain,

"Killed no drugged just enough that everything is a bit of a blur yes and I would like some idea on what I might have missed... and to know what was up with those two?" He looked surprised before speaking,

"You...." He started then shook his head, as if to clear his mind as he walked around messing with flasks I wasn't sure what was in them,

"That was Gotham's duo batman and robin, and as far as what happened Bruce Wayne came in with thugs recked the place and took you." He stated and I hummed he paused. looking down at my feet,

"How do you manage to be stealthy with house slippers on?" He asked and I grinned

"They add some extra padding... do you still have anything I had when I was left here?" he nodded and walked to one of the back rooms I followed him and was glad to see my duffle, I dug through it and found proper cloths for this kind of work and pulled them over what I was currently wearing I had to let my wings decay to get the jacket with magnets in it's back on I straighten that out and pulled on my boots leaving me to wonder what I should do with my now dirty slippers. I shoved them in my pocket before heading out, giving the blue man a wave as I did. he just seemed to sigh as I left I heard him speak as I got to the door.

"Oh Nora, I know I was pressured into keeping him... but this feels like it is out of my hands." I closed the door letting him talk to the frozen lady. I opened my wings and took a deep breath as I took to the air again and started trying to remember were I had been taken when I flew over an apartment building, I had been in an apartment, and I knew myself well enough to start checking for open windows finally finding one in park row, I slipped in to find a bare apartment with little more then a blanket, I used my sonar again letting out soft clicks as I moved through the dark, I defiantly know this place. but there wasn't much here, and no real clues with a sigh I left. heading home I'd have to hide my cloths but I had a good idea of how to do that and I stopped near the Ace chemical factory and found the hidden stash left for me by Mr, Wilson left for me I left the extra cloths there, I frowned again at the slippers, I'd have to try and clean them in my bathroom. I flew... Home and that felt odd to think... home. I'd never had a real Home before... It felt weirdly warm.

I landed in my window letting my wing decay and turn to dust, I closed the window before picking up my shirt and heading to try and wash the house slippers, I managed to get most of the dirt out of them and I sighed and shook my head setting them next to my bed I wouldn't be able to use them tomorrow I pulled the shirt back on before taking off my glasses and crawling back in to bed yawning as I did.

[goddess-of-graphite]

The Great Notes App Exodus: Half-Dead and Still Kicking

The thing is, Jason’s been a ghost for a while, okay? Six whole months, and it’s been a goddamn adjustment, being capable of floating through walls and falling through furniture if he’s not careful, if he’s not concentrating. He goes unseen and unheard in a manor too full of grieving to only be residence of two people - Alfred keeps his room tidy and untouched, as if it’s a shrine to keep care of, and Bruce is…

Jason is, was, Robin, so he can’t quite help himself from following in Batman’s shadow as the man patrols, more vicious, more brutal than Jason has ever seen him. He takes more risks, gets injured more often - and it’s terrifying, the way Batman grieves, as if trying to follow him into the grave. So Jason follows, unbeating heart in his throat, and only relaxes again when Bruce is safe in the manor, sleeping off whatever injuries he got during the night.

He can’t interact with the world, but he can watch the shades of past residents going about their lives, and he learns things from doing this even as he fears becoming them one day, mindlessly replaying a life long passed. He can snoop and explore without worry for being caught, and if he ever gets bored he can practice flying (so much harder than it seems - he’s careful never to go too high, too worried that he won’t be able to come back down again, even with the ceaseless curiosity in the back of his mind wondering - just how far can I go? Beyond the sky? Could he touch the stars, if he wanted?) and when everything is terrible, when the memories of his death, his last few hours of life, haunt him, when he is drowning in his own head, he finds distractions; the way the air currents sometimes seem to react to him, trying to move things like ghosts do in those terrible movies, chattering to whoever is around and pretending they can hear him, finding mysteries to solve (what’s up with that camera kid, anyway? He’d never noticed him before…) and trying to read books in the library through sheer force of will, usually ending up just reciting the parts he knows.

(Two months and a bit in to this whole “ghost” thing, he finds out the deal with the camera kid. Jason can only be relieved because, kid’s got a point - and Bruce seems to do better with someone to protect, to teach, to watch over.

He’s not practically tearing people apart with his bare hands anymore. He’s not taking hits he should have been able to avoid anymore. He’s not lurking at the edge of rooftops anymore, staring at the ground as if contemplating how far away it is.)

And Tim… he’s weird, but brilliant, and Jason feels a little protective of him. Follows him whenever he goes out, sharp eyes watching his back regardless of whether he can protect it or not (and maybe it’s his imagination, but the world seems more real when he’s watching over Tim, closer and present in a way he can almost feel, as if he could actually affect the world, if he just tried hard enough - if he just needed to desperately enough).

And then, six months after his-… after this ghost thing started, something… changes.

Something Happens, and he can almost taste the strange Knowing - something, somewhere, has gone wrong, or perhaps right, and the ripples extend beyond the event, slipping into each corner of the universe with the subtlety of a truck, and yet somehow unnoticed.

The ghosts notice. Pale shades lift their heads, existing outside of their own memories for the first time in an age - and Jason, who is new, who is Robin, who lived in Gotham where all things become possible, is hit by the wave of Something Happening Elsewhere Rippling Out and wakes up in a box.

In a coffin.

(But Jason has been a ghost for six months, and the pain of living again is enough to reach for the existence of being a ghost, and by the time he has sorted himself out and half-clawed, half-floated his way out of his grave (again), he doesn’t expect himself to be anything but what he has been for the past six months.)

(And then, of course, he discovers he can interact with the world if he concentrates, if he wants it enough, and he assumes that Whatever That Was made him a stronger ghost.

It’s not an unfair assessment. Incorrect, but not beyond reason.

Why would he think he came back to life, anyway? That’s a bit far-fetched, really.)

[fangedbats]

“ glitter and gold “

characters: duke thomas, cassandra cain

warnings: ambiguous/open ending (kinda), emotional hurt/comfort, light angst, no dialogue

word count: 953

summary: duke has an off day and knowing he won’t be abled to sleep decides to go out and look at the stars, cass finds him after patrol and they sit together for a while.

Duke was not having a good day.

He wandered through the surprisingly empty manor. The only other people in the massive house were Alfred, Bruce and Cassandra. All of whom were on the night patrol, so to speak.

Despite an eventful day patrol, Duke couldn’t sleep, no matter what he tried.

It didn’t help that he was subconsciously fighting off every effort he had made to sleep so far. Nightmares seemed to resurface more than ever tonight.

The night that his parents had lost their minds. That the Joker stole the one thing he knew.

He moved past the office with the grandfather clock, knowing that Alfred was down there tonight. Since Barbara was taking a well deserved vacation, the elderly butler had been assisting with the comm systems.

Jason was off-world with the Outlaws, and Damian was spending time with Dick in Bludhaven. Tim was spending the weekend with his Young Justice buddies and Steph had decided to tag along with him.

As he made his way up the stairs he thought about patrol. He had done good today, he could admit. Duke felt like he was finally gaining the trust of the citizens of Gotham.

Several had willingly accepted his help today, instead of turning away or looking to find another cape to assist them.

That trust made it worth it. And he was grateful to have it. But it stung sometimes, that the only reason he was able to gain this trust was because he no longer had his parents.

They were still there of course. But Elaine and Doug Thomas were nothing but shells of their former selves. Reduced to laughing, cackling husks.

He made his way steadily up the attic stairs. Traversing a well known path. Bruce had shown him this spot when he first moved in, knowing that the adjustment into the house would be easier if Duke had a quiet place to go once in a while.

It wasn't that Duke was a quiet person, it's just that going from living in a small apartment in the Narrows to a giant mansion in Bristol was a big adjustment.

He uses his phone flashlight to illuminate the space, not wanting to turn on the bright overhead light right now. He makes his way around boxes and various pieces of furniture. He can see the glint of an old chandelier reflect the light.

Duke wonders about why the chandelier is in the attic. It looked similar to the one in the entrance hall, but it was noticeably richer. Or it would have been. Now part of it was destroyed, he assumed that it had crashed to the ground. Although he didn't know how.

He thought about the chandelier as he opened the skylight. He shut off his flashlight, knowing this area by heart by now. He had been out here a lot, especially when he needed time to think. Either about his parents, which had been happening more as he realized that they would probably never get better, or other general things in his life.

Duke gripped the edge of the skylight and pulled himself up. He carefully got his footing, all too aware of the sloping roof and how it could lead to injury.

It didn’t scare him.

If anything he had learned to find comfort in the drop. Dick had taught him how to fly, through grappling and parkouring across the rooftops of Gotham. Duke couldn’t soar quite as well as the older man. But he was quickly becoming proficient.

He carefully made his way up the roof. Duke treaded the well known path to a small balcony. It was supposed to be purely cosmetic, as there was no way to access it from inside.

But for a family of vigilantes it was fair game.

He hopped into the balcony, going over the railing with ease. The weather was warm, and for once the stars were visible over the perpetual smog that always seemed to cover the city.

He sat on the lawn chair that Dick and Jason had somehow managed to drag up here back where Jason was robin. Another chair had appeared in the years since then. They had recently been used during the annual prank war, Jason and Steph had teamed up and made this their base of operations.

Duke could still see the multi-colored confetti from their grand finale lingering across the small space.

He sat down onto a chair after carefully inspecting it and making sure it was cleared of glitter. He arranged himself so that he was almost sitting sideways in it, leaning across one armrest and hooking his legs over the other. His shoulder pressed into the back of the seat, the entire thing still held traces of warmth from sitting in the sun all day.

He spent a couple hours out there, watching as the night progressed. In a state between wakefulness and dozing off.

He didn’t react when a shadow suddenly appeared in his vision. Duke hummed a greeting, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge her presence.

Cass didn’t seem to mind. She never did. Sometimes Duke was convinced she knew what he needed to unwind more than he himself did.

Instead of sitting in the other chair she settled on the floor next to him. She didn’t pry about what was wrong, and he appreciated it.

They sat in silence for a while, he wasn’t quite sure how much time had passed.

But with the warmth of Cass’s company and the blanket of night, Duke found himself more relaxed than he had been the entire evening.

And as night truly set in, the worries of the day didn’t go away, but they became more manageable for the future.