#Bruce: we were never married

[bruciemilf]

We all know how flustered Battinson would be as a first time dad, but can you imagine him when half the rogue roster AND JL members come to them after Jason gets adopted?

Naturally, they assume he’s Bruce’s biological kid. And chaoes quickly comes knocking.

Harvey is VERY ready to be a dad. Too ready. “Don’t even worry about it, even if we’ve had our problem, OBVIOUSLY I’m the father, and I’ll be there every step of the way.”

“What.”

“There’s no need to hide the truth, Bruce, I’m not mad. I’ll be the best dad I can be. I won’t even let Two Face show him how to shoot a gun.”

“I already know how to do that :D”

“WHAT?”

“What did I tell ya?” The seamless switch is blink-and you miss it, but not for Bruce’s sharp eyes. TF just grins, switchblade sharp, ruffling at Jason’s hair, “That IS my boy.”

Clark sheepishly approaching Bruce one day, sitting down at the JL cafeteria table. His handsome face fashioned a bare earnestness which only confuses Bruce MORE.

“Hey. So, we should probably talk about Jason, right?”

“What.”

“I’m really sorry if I did something that made you feel like you couldn’t tell me. But I’m ready to step up. So when should I move in?”

“We haven’t slept together, Clark.”

“Bruce, I think I’d know my kid when I saw him.”

Hal can’t take this anymore. “HE’S A MAN?” He pauses, “Also, why am I not questioned? I could be the baby daddy! I could SO be the baby daddy!”

“Go away, Hal.”

“Yeah ok.”

[soupinaboot]

Do you think Batman ever just casually drops the most insane lore to people at random like it's nothing? Cause I do.

[xoshepard]

i watched the fifth element (kinda doing a movie marathon bc it feels better to lay in bed and watch movies from there than sit at my computer and im too tired to play games anyway) and it struck me partway through that bruce willis looked old af especially compared to milla jovovich, and so i looked up their ages when the movie came out and she was 20 and he was literally 42??? and then i was cursed with the knowledge that she was also married to the director for 2 years when the movie came out, and he was like 38 or something??? wtf

[ellana-ravenwood]

“Batman, you need to-IS THAT A BABY ?!” - Batfam x Fem!reader

Synopsis : Bruce and Batmom bring their newborn daughter to the Watchtower, so she can meet their friends (or vice versa). Includes an overprotective Damian, League members who cannot believe the Batman is smiling, and other shenanigans.  

Oop, I’m back (?). My dudes. It’s been TWO YEARS since I last posted here. Two. Years. I posted like, two life update...don’t know if some of y’all saw it, but long story short : I got married, I have a son now, and everything is going so well in my life that I didn’t really need the validation I got from writing online...Buuuuuuuuuuuuut, I still love writing. And so, after quite a long break, here I am :). Hope you will enjoy this, don’t hesitate to let me know if you do : 

Please, do not repost my stories anywhere else, under any other form. Do not translate and then repost them either. Thank you.

My masterlist : @ella-ravenwood-archives

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“You’re evil, you know that right ?” You say, raising an eyebrow.  

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, my love.” He answers, a small smile on his lips. You turn to him and...Oh that smug look, that smug look you loved so much. He definitely DEFINITELY knew what he was doing. 

And that it was utterly...evil. 

“It’s going to be FUN !” 

Ah, and here’s his little devil. Damian himself. He loved this. Partly because he thought it was funny to mess with everyone, partly because he liked showing that you guys were a family. 

“They won’t believe their eyes !” His little voice kept going, followed by a big roar of laughter that sounded, by all means, more childlike than devilish. 

“That they won’t, they always seem so surprised when Bruce acts like a human.” 

Jason. Still not calling Bruce “dad” (except sometimes, by “accident”, and even him don’t realize he did), he’d only slowly been back at the manor, with all of you. And, for sure, a certain important event which happened about four months ago made it so he came back to live at home.

Dick chuckled and added : “Who would blame them ? We’re talking about a man who eats his burgers with a knife and fork !” He gestured to his father with his left thumb, his other hand shielding part of his mouth as if he was telling them all a secret, as if he was trying to be discreet, so his dad wouldn’t hear...Always quite the little clown, that eldest son of yours. With his exaggerated mannerism, and that sparkle in his eyes, in his smile. 

“I’m certain some of them thought he was genuinely a cyborg for YEARS” Tim added, quite seriously, his tone the opposite of his older brother (and that was just his way of joking...you think). And honestly ? Yeah, you were pretty sure some of your friends at the JLA thought your husband was a robot, at one point. 

Oh yes. That’s where you were going, to the JLA’s headquarters. To execute Bruce’s plan. Quite the evil plan indeed. 

“Hell, even I thought he was one before I met you guys !” Duke chimed in, and that made Cassandra smile widely, as she shook her head up and down pointing at Duke as if to say : “what he just said”. 

And in a very Bruce manner, your husband kept a straight face, ignoring his children’s teasing. Only you, saw that twinkle in his eyes, that smile that might not reach his mouth, but was definitely dancing in those bright blue eyes. 

Oh yes. Yes, your friends were in for quite the surprise. 

************

Meanwhile, in the Justice League headquarters : 

“Oh, hey ! Look, Batman’s zeta tube is turning on ! We haven’t seen him in a while right ?”  

Indeed they haven’t. Because, well, let’s put it this way : Batman’s wife just had a baby. 

A baby girl (finally, right ? You and Cass weren’t TOO outnumbered anymore). 

And Batman had been VERY busy doting over his baby girl. 

Batman had been busy being Bruce Wayne. 

Just a man, who thought he’d never be happy again, not knowing how to handle all those feelings he had for his wife (for you), for his children. 

That was happiness then, right ? 

So, yes. Batman hasn’t been much at the JLA’s headquarters lately. But your husband thought, it was finally time to go see his friends a little bit. He knew they were all up there, because it was their monthly reunion (once each month, they gathered to talk about the state of the world, the universe, what threat lingered, what lurked beyond...and to get very drunk, and see their friends, the only ones who knew what it meant to be a “hero”). 

And that what’s made him particularly evil. 

He knew, they would all be there. He knew what their reaction was going to be. After all, his memory was amazing, he definitely hadn’t forgot the way they reacted the first time they saw you, the first time they learned he had children (childrEN, plural !). 

And he knew they were a little worried about him. 

He had missed their last three reunions, and only answered : “Everything is ok” to their messages asking if he was alright (they hadn’t dared to go see if he was indeed ok, because last time they did that, they found him bed ridden with all the bones in his body broken, and he got so mad at them for butting in his business he worked twice as hard when he was fine again, and didn’t talk a WORD for months...that was, of course, years ago, before you were in his life, but the experience was still in their minds and so, they decided to respect his privacy, he would come to them when ready). And he never pushed his “red button”, him, or anyone in the family. 

They just assumed he was busy, they hoped it wasn’t anything bad. 

Yes. They were worried. For him. For you. For your kids. For Alfred. For your dogs, your cats, your cow...They. Were. Worried. 

And Bruce knew. 

You told him, when your pregnancy was confirmed, to tell his friends. That they would be happy. But after his own initial happy thought, his surge of hope and love at knowing he was going to be a dad again, he started to make his plan. 

Why tell them, when you could toy with them ? 

“They deserve it.” He told you, and you weren’t sure if they did, but you weren’t about to fight him on that. After all, you too, thought it could be amusing. Amusing to hide your pregnancy, making up excuses as to why they couldn't come see you, and you didn’t come up the headquarter. Amusing, to even hide it quite expertly from any form of news (Bruce was a MASTER of disguise, not only for himself), so it would be a real surprise. 

Amusing, to have your little girl in secret, with only your family. Amusing, but also what you wanted. For this good news to be just between you, your children, and Alfred. Your close family. Because you had too few things that just were yours. 

This had to be yours. Your thing, your secret, your own happiness. Yours, and only yours. And you found it was good, that you guys spend the first few months of your daughter’s life only between yourselves. 

It was nice, to go out “disguised” as a normal couple, and show your daughter Gotham (and how her little eyes already tried to take the entire world within them). 

It was nice, to live in total privacy for a little bit. 

So, yes, you had been a little selfish. And he had, too. You knew it wasn’t just to prank his friends, he kept it all a secret. That it was also to have some quality time with his family. To spend the first few months of his daughter’s life being the only one being utterly smitten with her. 

Though, this last thing wasn't true...You were, too. And your children ? Let’s just say your daughter had not been alone ONCE since she was born. And she seemed to love it. 

Whenever she made the slightest sound, smiled, laughed (or cried), they were there, Bruce was there, absolutely loving that little baby. 

She was almost 4 months old now, and Bruce thought that the gist had to be up. What scale did he use to measure this amount of “readiness” ? You had no idea. You thought he was just now ready to share his happiness with his friends, and not just his close family. 

And so here you were, after months of secrecy carefully crafted and orchestrated by your husband, in the JLA’s headquarters, along with your family, the little new addition to said family in your husband’s arms. 

Evil. Your husband was downright evil. 

He knew that what was about to happen would have a massive impact on his friends. He. KNEW. 

And as the zeta tube brought all your family up there, you knew that as he saw their faces, your husband was a little TOO happy with himself for his little “prank”. 

************

“Batman, are you al- IS THAT A BABY ?” Very typical, very in character : the first to react was Flash himself. 

None of the other noticed, and they seemed inclined to think Barry had lost his mind but then...

Bruce’s face didn’t move an inch, he just held that little “package”, and had his same stoic expression except...Except there was a little hand grabbing at his chin. 

Then another hand appeared out of that bundle Batman carried, with a bat plushie bunched in a tight fist, shaking it and...Cooing. 

Cute little sounds, and the way- EXCUUUuuUuuuUSE ME ?

The way Batman just softly looked at her, the way his cold expression was replaced by a tender one as he lowered his eyes to her ??

WHAT ?! 

They knew. They knew he had THE softest spot for his family. They knew his scary aura greatly dimmed when he was around his wife and children. They knew that when they weren’t there, he was only made of shadows. They were his light, his salvation. 

They knew he didn’t have the same face expression, when they were around.

Well, when they were looking at him...Barry swore that Batman loomed around his family, standing menacingly behind them, his eyes cold and calculating as if he was ready to fight any seconds to save his loved ones, and then whenever they turned to him his feature would instantly soften. He will ALWAYS remember the first time he met little Dickie, 9 years old and so full of joy and life, and how whenever he would look at Batman and talk to him, said Batman got a softer expression somewhat, but then when Dick turned around, Batman looked about to murder them whenever they came too close from him. 

Once, Tim, also 9 at the time, years after the JLA met Dick, told Barry matter of factly : “He doesn’t kill people. He could break your knee caps though” in a very Tim fashion. The kid was serious. And had noticed the aura surrounding his dad, how it changed when he was around (he noticed more than his siblings, because for a while, Bruce had been really cold and distant with him, since he met him not long after Jason’s death..understandable. So he was the only one who had this sort of behavior aimed at him, the shield Bruce put in front of him to keep everyone away so he wouldn’t be hurt, the shield that now was lowered for them and only them). 

It was his eyes. His eyes that were always hard and cold, became different when looking at you or his children. 

Not to say that his family never exasperated him, or that he never had his “mask” around them. After all, Bruce’s stoic expression was his face by default. It’s just that he was often too focused. And that he spend years practicing hiding his emotions, practicing keeping a blank face. Because Barry also remembered seeing Dick perched on his father’s shoulders, letting himself dangle in his back, his head upside down, whistling and kicking his feet, and Bruce having this stoic mask on, concentrated. 

Anyway, they knew all that. It had been years, since Bruce finally trusted them enough to bring his wife here, and his kids. But yet, yet they were still surprised sometimes.

Like today. 

The picture of Batman holding a baby was...a little weird. 

Even if he opened up to them over the years, he was still mostly very cold, distant and aloof. You know, Batman. That’s just who he was. So sometimes, to see him so devoted to his wife or kids, it was odd to say the least. 

And right now, as he walked towards them with a baby in his arms, the shock was real. Damn it, will there be a day when the Bat didn’t surprise them with something ? 

How did none of them notice you were pregnant ? Proof again Batman was a master of his craft. And that little girl...

Oh your daughter was such a beaming ray of sunshine, that in his arms it was particularly a jarring image. 

The big scary bat, tall, broad shouldered, muscular in every way, his face void of expressions, holding a tiny baby who kept smiling at everyone around, and playing with her plushy. 

Odd. 

Yet, sweet. 

Were they surprised ? Yes. 

Were they a little mad he hid something (AGAIN) this important from them ? Definitely. 

Were they shocked that his daughter was so darn cute and smiling and laughing that much ? Not really, because you were his mom too. 

Were they happy for him ? For sure. 

Were they going to adore that little girl ? Probably as much as they adored his other kids already, which meant...yes. Yes they were going to. 

Damn that bastard Bruce. Always so sneaky. 

Hal, couldn’t help but think : “First, he’s not a vampire, then, he’s married with children, and now, he has that cute baby. This guy ??!!” 

***********

The initial shocked passed, and only after your children MOCKED all of your friends (you had to give it to Dick, he knew how to imitate them so well..and when Damian joined in ? Oh, oh it was a fit of laughter impossible to fight that attacked them), did they approach your daughter. 

“Her name is Martha.” Bruce said “We named her after my mother.” and it wasn’t his usual flat tone he used as Batman. No, it was a soft voice he usually only reserved for his kids. And the reason he was using it now ? Well. He didn’t want to scare his daughter, as he still held her. 

She beamed at him when she heard her name, and babbled some baby nonsense. She then turned towards all those new faces, and you saw Bruce’s hand hold her a little tighter. 

Your beautiful, sweet soul husband. He clearly was worried she’d be scared, meeting all those new people. Especially since they all wore mask. But Martha-

Martha let go of her bat plushy (which Damian caught before it touched the floor, rolling on the ground in a way you thought was quite comedic. Oh, that boy), and lifted her arms up towards- 

“What a sweet little girl !” Diana said with a voice you NEVER heard her use. You realized it was her “voice reserved for babies and domestic animals”, and it made you smile. It was higher than her usual voice, and full of softness. 

You thought your daughter reached for her because she could feel the warmness in your friend. And after all, amongst all of those gathered here today, she was probably the one that adored babies the most. 

Diana looked at Bruce, who only inclined his head a little to give her the ok to lift her from his arms but-

Another arm stopped her, and took the baby away. 

Damian. 

Damian, the one who took his role as a big brother a little too seriously. 

He held Martha protectively against him, and literally sneered at all your friends. 

************

Damian deemed most of them unworthy to hold his baby sister, and only Clark ended up being allowed to carry her. And that was partly because Clark was the only one who knew about Martha, the only one who saw her already, and he had months to convince your son to trust him with her. 

Being an extremely close friend and all, you just couldn’t hide this from him and... no, really, you literally couldn’t hide this from him as he was the immediately noticed that second heartbeat when he listened in to make sure you and your family were safe. Bruce hated when he did that, but Clark wasn’t about to let them be in danger without moving an inch.

Anyway, Clark was allowed to hold her, but he gave her back to you rather quickly because your son’s stare made him uncomfortable. If eyes could kill, right ? 

Damian took his job as an older brother very seriously. He would protect her at all cost. And you had no doubt that he would be the kind of person to burn the entire world down if it meant saving his family. 

Damian only glared at everyone, letting them approach ONLY after they put on a surgical mask so they wouldn’t give her their “viruses or whatever”. 

You had to admit he was a bit much, and you asked him nicely to calm down a little. He relented on the face masks, but made them all wash their hands (twice). 

You ruffled his hair affectionately, what a sweet little boy. It broke your heart, how so many people judged him too fast. He really was, a nice kid. With a heart of gold. He just didn’t have much luck for the first few years of his life. 

But he chose to be like this. Chose to love, instead of hate. Chose to protect, instead of attacking. 

Although, right now, as Diana came back towards his sister, he definitely seems ready to high kick her (which definitely wouldn’t have hurt the amazon). 

************

It was a hassle, to convince Damian to let go of his sister so they could hold her. As per usual, it’s Dick who managed to convince him, saying Martha was all soft and cute, and everyone deserved to hold her at least once. Adding that if one of them dropped her, he would be allowed to do whatever he wanted to them. 

Some of the mightiest heroes of the planet were gathered hear, but the threat didn’t fall on deaf ears. Damian could be a little intense, and scary sometimes. 

They weren’t fooled by Dick’s agreeable smile either. A smile that didn’t always reach his eyes. They knew if they messed up, he would find every way to rip them to shreds. Dick was often seen as the calmest of your children, but his anger issues from when he was a child were never far. And he could be ruthless.  

Diana held her first, and your daughter babbled to her excitedly. 

Of course, being only 4 months old, she just talked gibberish. And it was so sweet, how Diana answered her : “What ? *babbles from your daughter* Noooooo. *more babbles from your daughter* I can’t believe he said that. And then what ? *babbles babbles babbles*”. 

After that, Dick took her back, and asked if someone else wanted to hold her, under yours and Bruce’s watchful eyes. 

Then again, in the room, many were also already parents and knew how to hold a baby. They weren’t too worried, except-

Except Dick, that little sh-, had found a new game in recent weeks. Whenever he gave his little sister to someone else...he pretended to drop her. 

And it made him laugh and laugh and laugh, to give mini-heart attacks to EVERYONE whenever he gave them his baby sister to them, as they always all panicked and screamed seeing her dropped (Dick always had her secure, he only pretended to drop her of course). 

“Oh no careful !” He’d scream, dropping his arms suddenly (she looooved it) while still gripping her, and they’d scramble to catch her, and he would just laugh. 

“You little-” Hal’s colorful words were...imaginative. And Damian was inclined to agree, since his brother pranked him oh, I don’t know, only about A HUNDRED TIMES since their little sister was born. 

You wouldn’t admit it, but it made you laugh a little too. Even if he got you a few times as well, pretending he was going to drop her. Then again, you trusted your eldest son. Once you and Bruce wouldn’t be around anymore, you knew he would hold this family together. 

************

Martha was a calm baby. She let people hold her, curious enough to not fuss and watch them all intently. It made Barry uncomfortable, how she held his gaze and would just stare at him. 

She would stare, and stare, and stare, and her bright blue eyes were EXACTLY like Bruce’s, it felt like being stared down by a miniature version of Batman. 

He didn’t like it. So he gave her back to whomever was closest, which happened to be Jason

Jason, who was always very delicate with his little sister. He handled her as if he’d break her. It broke your heart, to know he probably literally thought that. 

He refused to hold her at first, sure he would hurt her. But she kept reaching for him, crying when he wouldn’t take her, and she was so adorable and-

He caved, of course. After a little while. And he was oh, the fixture of a patient older brother. You knew he would ALWAYS be part of her life, and step in whenever she needed to. 

Right now, she was grabbing his hair, which were getting quite long, and pulling hard on them as babies do and- He didn’t say anything. He just let her do it. 

You really hoped she wasn’t going to take advantage of this when she’d get older, even if you already had visions of her having her brothers and father wrapped around her little finger, having her sister too, and...apparently, the entirety of the JLA. 

************

“How can such an a-hole make such a cute baby ?” Hal said, looking at the little girl he held. She was sort of dozing off, which for sure was adorable. 

Bruce only glared at him, which amused Hal greatly. He just gave him the shock of his life, he could laugh at his expense a little, right ? 

“I believe, to make a baby, you need to-”

“Um, no, Jon, please, I know how to ! It’s just-Oh, forget it.” 

Flustered, Hal Jordan was flustered. Jon J’onzz didn’t seem to get why, but then again, human sarcasms and irony were still very foreign to him. He always answered pragmatically to people. 

Talking about pragmatism. Hal handed back your daughter to Tim, who slipped her in his favorite new contraption : the baby carrier 3.0 (of his own design). Made so he could do all sort of work while having her strapped to him. Keeping an eye on her at all time. 

Tim adopted the use of a baby carrier, so he could still work while taking care of her (he stole the idea from his dad, who definitely hung around with his daughter EVERYWHERE with that thing...which was the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen, this tall broad man and this tiny baby attached to his chest). 

It was so cute to see her little feet dangling while he was working. Damian nearly lost it when he found Tim WELDING two pieces of metal together with the baby carrier on his front. Tim merely said : “I made her baby sized goggles and a fireproof pyjama, she’s fine, and she likes it” and indeed, your daughter didn’t have a scratch, and cried when Damian hauled her away from the sparks. Ooooh the smug look on Tim’s face as his brother gave her back reluctantly. Damian’s was utterly vexed. 

Vexation he forgot just a few minutes later, when Martha decided she had enough of sparkles and made little sounds of protest (not quite cries), and reached her little arms to him. 

As of now, Tim had her in this baby carrier again, and was strolling around the JLA headquarters, showing his new little sister to everyone. 

************

Cassandra didn’t say a word, as per usual. She never liked big crowds, only spoke to those she trusted the most. Her brothers, her parents. 

She only gestured to others. Remained quiet. But she monitored every little movements. 

Hawkgirl approached her sister ? Noted. Carefully studying every move. Martian Manhunter asked if he could hold her ? Noted. 

Superman made little babbling sound at her, while her dad held her ? Noted, with amusement. It was funny, to see one of Earth’s mightiest hero grimacing to a baby to make it laugh, while said baby was held by another mighty hero who was utterly stoned face. Cass’ smiled at her dad, who smiled back for a fraction of seconds before Clark shifted his head up to look at him too, and Bruce went back to his : “ -_-” face, by reflex really. 

Cassandra never spoke much, but she loved a lot. And her way of loving her little sister ? It was to always keep a watchful eye on her, so she could react to whatever she needed. And give her space when she needed to. 

She had many brothers, she often joked that if she lost one, she could just replace him (a joke you didn’t like much, because you knew it was just a self-defense from her, to shield her heartbreak at the mere idea of loosing a sibling), but only had one sister...

Yes. Your youngest child definitely held a special place in everyone’s heart. 

And you could see her slowly creep in every members’ of the Justice League’s heart too. 

Gods, you couldn’t even imagine what would happen to the person who would one day try to hurt her. You could bet, though, he wouldn’t get out of it unscathed (to say the least). 

************

Martha was particularly fond of Duke’s inuit kiss. He had the capacity to instantly calm her, and he could easily feel her inner emotions. 

As she was passed around everyone, and she started to be tired and cranky, he simply retrieved her and brought her to Bruce, because he knew that was her preferred spot to fall asleep. 

He kissed her on the forehead, and sure enough, she was asleep before he could pull away. Your husband put a warm hand on Duke’s head, a warm smile on his face. That boy could always tell what others felt. It was a gift, really, and sometimes a curse as others’ feelings could leak into him. Which is to say that sometimes, when others were sad, he would be too...

But for now, he felt content. At peace. Because his dad was, too. 

And indeed, Bruce, holding his sleeping daughter against his heart, his hand supporting her head gently, was utterly at peace. 

He loved the idea that his arms were his daughter’s favorite place to sleep, and never refused to hold her to help her sleep. You sure were a little jealous, but he told you : “They all always come to you when they need comfort, one kid out of six, you surely can give me, right ?” and though you knew he was joking, it broke your heart a little. 

So, you let go of your jealousy, and let him have this indeed. Martha was definitely a daddy’s girl. And that was good. You could see the impact on your husband, how having a baby in the house soothed him. 

He loved his kids so damn much. He often said they were his lights. And the fact Martha found comfort with him ? 

It reminded him of his own parents. How he would go to his mom, a Martha too, to find the same comfort. To fall asleep in the same way. 

You let go of that small jealousy, as you saw her falling soundly asleep, cuddled up against her dad. And it was funny, how Bruce would take his usual Batman persona, stone faced, standing straight and- 

Having one of two fingers held tightly by both of his daughter’s little hands. She grabbed them as he took her, one hand holding her (she was so tiny...and he was a big dude), the other, she used as a sort of comfort plushy. She held them with all her might, as she slept. 

And Bruce was speaking battle plans, and you had to fight the laughter in you as all your friends couldn’t help but stare at the scene, not knowing how to feel. 

Hal snickered at one point, and he made a gesture for him to zip it, and it was quite an odd scene, as he held his daughter and did that childish gesture. 

Seriously. That guy !! 

************

Batman smiling was...different. 

They all got caught staring at him, when he had his daughter in his arms. Staring because his broad smile was-

Well. Broad. 

It wasn’t his signature smirk. It wasn’t a soft smile. It wasn’t a half-smile. It wasn’t a smile that you could only see in his eyes. 

It was a full on big ass smile (as Barry would say). 

And sure, they already saw him smile like that (although he schooled his face back to “stone mode” when he noticed them looking), never that much. 

As if the birth of his daughter gave Batman another new light, and it was just impossible to yield to his old demon, to brood, when holding that ray of sunshine. 

It made them all feel...soft. And warm. 

It was nice, to know the bat wasn’t just a machine. They forgot it sometimes, that he was, in the end, “just” a man. They forgot why he became Batman. The pain and guilt he held inside. But moments like this, they were reminded of it. 

That the Batman didn’t exist because of hatred, but because of love. 

Because he loved his parents, his city, and now- 

His family. 

It was nice, to get reminded that there was a man below the mask. And though he could be an “a-hole” sometimes, there, holding his baby, he was just that. 

A loving man, who wanted to protect others. 

************

You made a note of every moments you would cherish forever of you introducing your daughters to them all : 

1. The shock on their faces as they beheld the sight of THE BATMAN holding a baby against him, and being so delicate. 

2. Your daughter being the star of the show, all of them smitten with her !

3. Your friends wanting to hold her, and how they beamed at her (and she beamed back, except with Barry, whom she only stared at for some reasons). 

4. Dick’s “game” of pretending he dropped her, and their panicked reaction. 

5. The success of Tim’s baby carrier, and how now, there was always one up in the tower. 

6. Diana and how it definitely seemed like she would move mountain for that child. 

7. How Clark’s eyes filled with tears again, as he looked at Martha. Because it made his friends so happy. You and Bruce. And especially Bruce. And Clark was an emotional man, who suffered too, and was just so happy “The Batman” was happy. 

8. How Jason seemed at peace with his little sister, and how whenever he held her, he seemed less weary than usual around everyone. Like Cass, he didn’t like much being amongst too many people. But now, it felt like he had an “emotional support baby”. Ah. 

9. Their reactions, past the shock, welcoming that new life in the world. 

10. How Bruce monitored his daughter being held by his friends, holding your hand. Even after all those years, when he acted close to you in his Batman costume, it made you...feel things. He always kept a facade as Batman. A facade that would crumble with his kids, and especially with you. PDA weren’t rare. And even after years at his side, it always made your heart beat wildly when he showed affection towards you in public, because it meant- 

Oh it meant so much. 

And you had so many more moments forever ingrained in your heart from that day spend up at the JLA’s headquarters. 

Too many to count. Some sweet, some hilarious- 

All positive feelings. 

And as you and your family stepped back in the zeta tubes, your friends saying “byyyyye” to Martha especially, with their baby voice (making Bruce roll his eyes), and as she waved at them- 

Waved for the FIRST TIME ever oh. 

Oh it felt like you would die of happiness. 

And still, Bruce’s hands held yours tightly. 

He knew. 

He knew, you were the source of this happiness he thought he could never find again. 

He knew. 

He never loved like that before. 

Yes. It felt like you could just die of happiness.

__________________________________________________

And here we are. I hope you enjoyed this. Don’t hesitate to comment and/or reblog, it’s always greatly appreciated :). 

Also, initially, the child was going to be Thomas (their son in my “main” storyline, if you already read a few works from me), but last minute, I was like : “wait no, I want to give Bruce a daughter, and the boys a sister. Also, poor Cass eh ?” and here we are. I really hope you liked this; I’m nervous for some reasons. Anyway. See you soon with another one ? 

[dcxdpdabbles]

Duke: I know I'm new, but are we going to talk about the thing clinging to Alfred? Damian: What are you babbling about? Duke: The thing made of shadows and glowing green eyes. It's wrapped around Alfred like 24/7 Jason: I've never seen anything like that around Alfred. Tim: Me neither. Duke: Are you sure? I used to see it even before I was officially taken in. There are some photos online, too. See? Damian: *squints* That just looks like some bad lighting. Hey, isn't this your paramour's conspiracy blog, Drake? Tim: Yeah, that's Bernad's page. Hold on, let me give him a call and see if he knows anything. A few hours later Tim: According to Bernard, there is this whole theory that Alfred is being haunted by some demon because before the Waynes were killed, many photos with the butler in them always had some kind of shadowy figure wrapped around him. In Batman's early days, some thought the shadowy figure was Batman. Duke: Yeah, I've always been able to see that thing around Alfred. I just assumed it was Batman's kind of BS that we all ignored. Dick: Are you guys talking about Danny? Damian: It has a name? Dick: Yeah, apparently, it was a family friend. Alfred's mother, Samantha, knew him in life, but he vanished when they were fourteen. He supposedly came back and just stuck around when she got married. Then Danny moved to Alfred when his mother died. Maybe one day he'll pick one of us! Bruce spraying on holy water: That someone will not be me. Alfred cleaning a vase: Danny says not to fight the inevitable Master Bruce. Bruce: You tell Danny to GET OUT OF MY HOUSE.

[dollishmehrayan]

# “I NEED YOUR LOVING, LIKE THE SUNSHINE, EVERYONE’S GOT TO LEARN SOMETIME.” ── .✦ ( batboys when they have a crush on you ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ )

dollish note ౨ৎ: yes this is based off that one korgis song and if you know it, your elite marry me immediately anywayss I need like more cute events to do omgg and guys I’m going to look for a new divider edition but the bunny will always stay don’t worryyy tags: (batboys x reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

He’s so obvious. Everyone knows. Even villains probably know, even you probably know but we always play hard to get. (that’s js me sorry)

Overly casual compliments: “Wow, you look… good. Like, really good. Is that new? No? I just never noticed how great you always look??”

Purposely hangs around you way more than necessary. “Oh wow, fancy seeing you here again... at this coffee shop... at this exact time... for the fifth time this week…”, “uh.. sure okay dick.”

Gets physically flustered. You smile at him and he bumps into a wall.

Brings you little gifts like coffee, snacks, or something you mentioned once two months ago that he totally remembered.

Accidentally lets it slip to Barbara. You find out two days later because she’s evil (and supportive). GIRL BOSSSSS

RASON RODD (IF YKYK) ── .✦

Denies it to everyone. Even himself. “Me? Crushing? Pfft. Please. I'm just being nice. I’m always this nice. Shut up.”

Acts all chill and tough but turns into a sarcastic teddy bear when you're around.

Tries not to care but notices everything about you like when you’re tired, upset, or need space.

Gets really protective, then downplays it. “Yeah I threatened that guy because he was being annoying. Not because he was flirting with you. Nope.” ( our little nonchalant guy )

Will read/watch your favorite stuff in secret so he can talk about it with you, then pretends he hated it. “No, I didn’t like it. But the plot twist in episode 7 was wild. Just sayin’.”

Probably punches a wall the first time someone calls him out. Literally everyone in the family: “Just ask them out already.”

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Has a million tabs open on “how to tell if someone likes you back.”

Obsesses over every text you send. Sends a reply. Deletes it. Writes a better one. Deletes that too. Eventually sends “lol yeah same” and regrets it instantly.

Runs into you and forgets how to function for 3 seconds. “Hey—hi—hey. Sorry. I mean. Hello.”

Will research your interests so he can impress you or casually bring them up. “Oh, you’re into ___? I read a couple papers about that, super cool stuff.”

Accidentally calls you “cute” in passing, then vanishes for two days to a point you wonder if he might appear on the missing website thing.

You find out he has a playlist called “maybe someday” and the first song is something painfully romantic.

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Pretends he doesn’t like you. Like, aggressively. But it’s so obvious.

Gives you weirdly thoughtful gifts and says things like, “I noticed you were using inferior supplies.”

Blushes if you compliment him. Denies he’s blushing. “Tt. The temperature is simply warm.”

Subtly changes his schedule to be around you more. He’ll be in the library when you’re there, in the gym at the same time it’s definitely not a coincidence (even though he insists it is).

Draws you. Like, sketches. Constantly. Says it’s “for anatomy practice.”

Acts annoyed when you talk to someone else, then pouts in a corner like a feral cat.

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

He doesn’t even realize it at first. It hits him out of nowhere, like genuinely out of thin air.

Brooding increases by 200%. He stares off into space, thinking about you, and Alfred has to snap him out of it.

Becomes awkwardly formal. “Would you… perhaps… like to join me for dinner? I understand if that’s… inconvenient.” ( like despite being a former player and all and smoothhh as hell when he genuinely likes someone he can’t be smooth, your like his Andrea beaumont but if they worked out )

Totally asks Alfred for advice. Alfred gives him the same advice he gave him at 16.

When you smile at him, he short-circuits a little. You get a rare, soft Bat-smile in return.

Once he’s sure of his feelings, he’s all in but oh boy, it takes a while.

[arandomao3user]

. . . I should be writing.

*Makes an AU where Tim and Bernard do random, big things (ex: elope, get matching tattoos, go on spontaneous vacations...) and tells no one else.*

—

Dick: Uh, Tim?

Tim: Yeah?

Dick: When did you get a tongue piercing?

Bruce: W H a t ?

Jason: Damn, go off, pretender.

Tim: Uhh...

Tim, remembering last night when he was up to late and exhausted, Bernard was horny, compromises were made, and Tim decided he wanted a tongue piercing and Bernard knew how...

—

Bruce: So, you two have been dating a few years.

Tim: ? ? ? Uh, yeah.

Bruce: Have either of you, perhaps, considered marriage?

Tim, who got eloped to Bernard three years ago after Bruce p#&%#d him off:

Jason, who married them, smirking but keeping his mouth shut:

—

Damian:

Tim: ?

Damian: Father disapproves of tattoos, says they could compromise our identities.

Tim, remembering his eighteenth birthday, going off with Bernard to get matching tattoos: How'd you find out?

Damian: I have my ways, Drake.

Tim: What do you need to keep quiet?

Damian: Skateboarding lessons!

Tim:

Tim: You don't need to blackmail me for those!

Damian: IT'S ABOUT DIGNITY, DRAKE!

—

Tim, showing up with a toddler on his hip, sucking her thumb with bright blue eyes and curly blonde hair in braids: Ugh, sorry I was late, Bern couldn't watch Darla tonight.

Bruce:

Dick:

Jason:

Damian:

Duke:

Alfred:

Cassandra:

Stephanie:

Bruce: I need an explanation. Now.

Tim: ??? Oh, Bernard, had to work late—

Dick: ABOUT THE BABY! WHY DO YOU HAVE A BABY?!

Tim: Huh? Oh, yeah, Ra's owed me a favor.

Damian: Grandfather cloned you and Dowd..?

Tim: No, weirdo!

Tim: He used both our DNA to make a test tube baby.

Bruce, having a heart attack as they speak:

Jason: Who's last name she got?

Tim: Dowd-Drake-Wayne.

Duke: Nahh, you did her dirty with that one, man.

Tim: She'll appreciate it when she's older, if she gets married she can continue to trend of joining last names.

Stephanie: Is there not a character limit?

Cass: Wrong questions.

Dick: TIM! BABY! WHY!?

Tim: Felt like it.

Bruce: Why haven't we met her? Why did you bring her to the cave!?

Tim: You never asked to meet her.

Stephanie: How did you hide this?

Tim: I wasn't trying to, you guys just didn't look very hard.

Duke: Dude, that's a whole a&# child.

Cass: She's quiet.

Tim: She's analyzing.

Darla: You're all mentally challenged.

Bruce: Tim, we need to have a talk about this, as soon as possible.

Tim: Can't, I'm on baby duty the rest of the week. Unfortunately Bern said she's not allowed to be Robin till she's at least sixteen, so—

Damian: EXCUSE ME!?

Tim: THAT'S RIGHT! A DRAKE WILL REPLACE YOU!

Darla: I gave Daddy stitches last night when he fell through the window, he told me how!

Cass:

Duke:

Damian:

Bruce:

Stephanie:

Cass:

Dick: YOU LET A TODDLER GIVE YOU STITCHES!?

—

Bruce, on the phone: TIM! WHERE ARE YOU?! You're late for patrol and we couldn't find you or Bernard, your boat is a mess—

Tim: Me and Bern went on a vacation to Italy.

Bernard: Felt like sight seeing.

Bruce:

Bruce: Without telling me?

Tim: I'm an adult.

Bruce: Tim.

Tim: Bruce.

Bernard: Yeah, anyways, Tim is kinda tied up—

Bruce: HE WAS CAPTURED!?

Tim:

Bernard, grinning: By me.

Bruce:

Bruce: Jason is in Norway with the Outlaws, I'm sending him.

Bernard: NO, WE'RE HAVING SE—

Tim: BERNARD!

—

[flwrkid14]

Tim Drake’s Unhinged Power Move (ft. Marriage, Ra’s al Ghul, and an Uncomfortable Batfamily)

No one really understood how it started. One moment, Tim Drake was Red Robin—tired, overworked, and fueled by caffeine. The next, he was dropping a bombshell in the middle of a routine debrief:

“Oh, by the way, I married Ra’s al Ghul.”

The room froze.

Dick’s dumbbell hit the floor. Jason choked on his beer. Damian’s sword slipped from his hand. Bruce, staring at Tim like he’d grown a second head, barely managed a strangled, “Tim. What did you do?”

Tim took a sip of his coffee, utterly unfazed. “It’s a power move.”

Jason, wheezing with laughter: “Oh my god. You married Ra’s out of spite? Replacement, I’ve never been prouder.”

Tim smirked. “Something like that.”

-----------

It wasn’t really spite.

Ra’s had been obsessed with him for years. The offers of succession, the constant attempts to lure him to the League—it was never-ending. Tim was tired. Tired of being hunted, tired of the games. So, one day, he called Ra’s’ bluff. If Ra’s wanted him so badly, he’d have to deal with all that came with it. Including Tim’s unrelenting need for control.

Ra’s agreed.

And just like that, Tim Drake became the most terrifying in-law the batfamily had ever seen.

-----------

Talia didn’t know what to think at first.

She’d seen it all before—people manipulated by Ra’s, twisted into tools for his will. But Tim? He didn’t play by those rules. He sat at Ra’s’ desk, sifting through League reports like they were Gotham case files. He didn’t bark orders; he made suggestions. And then, the soup happened.

Talia returned from a mission, bruised and exhausted. Tim, barely looking up from his paperwork, said, “Sit. You’re hurt.”

She scoffed. “I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity. It’s soup.”

Talia stared. “Why?”

Tim shrugged. “You looked like you needed it.”

It became a routine. She’d return from missions, and Tim would be there. Not with judgment. Not with manipulation. Just quiet support. He listened. He offered advice. He treated her like a person, not a pawn.

Somehow, they started having regular bonding time. Shopping trips. Quiet conversations on the balcony. Tim became a person Talia could trust—a concept she hadn’t believed possible.

-----------

Damian was losing his mind.

“Drake!” he hissed, cornering Tim in the Batcave. “You’ve… corrupted my mother!”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Corrupted? She’s thriving.”

“She smiles at you!”

“I’m very charming.”

Damian’s finger trembled as he pointed. “This makes you… my grandmother.”

Tim smirked. “Respect your elders, grandson.”

“I REFUSE!”

-----------

Bruce was spiraling.

“Tim, this is dangerous.”

“Relax,” Tim replied, sipping his coffee. “I’ve got it under control.”

“You married one of our greatest enemies!”

“Think of it as an undercover op,” Tim said, voice calm and unyielding. “I’m playing the long game.”

Jason, from the sidelines, grinned. “He’s playing 4D chess, and you’re still on checkers.”

-----------

The Real Chaos?

Tim didn’t marry Ra’s to make him happy. Hell no. If anything, it made Tim sick to his stomach knowing Ra’s was smug about it. But if putting up with Ra’s al Ghul meant protecting Talia, stabilizing the League, and giving Damian a family that didn’t break apart at the seams?

He’d endure.

Because Talia was healing. Damian’s mother was smiling. And Ra’s… well, Ra’s thought he’d won.

But the real winner? Tim Drake.

Gotham’s most unhinged vigilante had just become the League of Assassins’ terrifying step-parent. And honestly? It suited him.

-----------

Damian, whispering to Alfred: “I need… therapy.” Alfred: “We all do, Master Damian. We all do.”

[sleepingdiaryzzz]

@errorunfound1

Yandere!neglectful!Batfam x mom!reader

Wayne Manor had always felt vast, but to you, it was more of a void than a home. It was easy to get lost in its endless hallways, in the constant hum of life orbiting Bruce’s nocturnal mission. You married him for love, despite knowing the weight of the life he led. You accepted his scars, his mission, his world. But what you hadn’t expected was how little space there would be left for you in it.

Bruce was always out, chasing shadows, leaving you to navigate a family that seemed determined to keep you at arm’s length. You poured your heart into them—Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian—but your efforts were met with indifference at best and disdain at worst. You had been a mother in every way that mattered, yet the coldness you received in return made your heart ache.

“You don’t have to act like you care,” Jason sneered once when you tried to patch him up after patrol. “We both know you’re just here for him.”

Tim barely acknowledged you unless it was necessary, his head buried in his work. Dick’s smiles, once genuine, now felt like politeness masking discomfort. And Damian, always the sharpest, had no qualms about cutting you down. “You’re not my mother,” he’d said, his words a dagger that twisted in your chest.

Bruce never intervened. When you tried to tell him, his responses were dismissive. “They’ll come around,” he’d say before disappearing into the night. But they never did.

So, you stayed quiet, swallowing the hurt, letting it fester.

One night, you stood in the empty dining room, staring at the cold, untouched dinner you’d prepared. The clock ticked on the wall, counting the hours Bruce was late. Again. You could hear the faint hum of voices from the Batcave below, the family gathered around him while you sat alone.

It wasn’t anger that bubbled up this time. It was resignation.

You left that night, not with a dramatic goodbye, but with a simple bag and a note left on the kitchen counter.

“I love you, but I can’t keep losing myself in a family that doesn’t want me.”

The days without you passed unnoticed at first. Bruce buried himself in his work, assuming you needed time to cool off. The Batkids carried on as usual, their lives too busy to miss the quiet presence you’d once provided.

It was Alfred who noticed first—the meals left uneaten, the flowers on the windowsill wilting. “Sir,” he said carefully one evening, “she’s not coming back.”

Bruce stopped mid-step, his expression flickering. “She just needs time.”

But days turned into weeks, and the absence became impossible to ignore. The manor felt colder, emptier. Jason snapped more often, his temper flaring at the slightest provocation. Tim’s focus wavered, his mistakes piling up in a way they never had before. Damian trained harder, his strikes sharper, but there was a new tension in him, an unease he wouldn’t voice.

“She left us,” Damian said one night, his tone sharp but brittle. “That’s on her.”

“No,” Dick said quietly, guilt heavy in his voice. “It’s on us.”

Bruce found you three weeks later, living in a modest apartment far from the grandeur of Wayne Manor. The door was locked, but that had never been an obstacle for him. He let himself in, his imposing frame filling the doorway as you stood frozen in the kitchen.

“Bruce,” you said, your voice tight.

“Come home.” His tone was soft but firm, the same voice he used to give orders in the field.

Your laugh was bitter, hollow. “Home? That place hasn’t felt like home in years.”

His jaw tightened, the only sign of his frustration. “You belong there. With me. With them.”

“I belonged there once,” you said, your voice breaking. “But I spent years trying to love a family that couldn’t love me back. Do you even realize how much it hurt, Bruce? To be invisible in my own home?”

He stepped closer, his movements slow, deliberate. “I didn’t see it. I should have. But I’m here now.”

“Too late,” you whispered, tears spilling over.

But Bruce Wayne was not a man who gave up easily. His hand reached out, brushing against yours. “You think I’ll let you go that easily?” His voice dropped, a dangerous edge slipping into his tone. “You’re mine. You always have been.”

You pulled away, shaking your head. “You don’t love me, Bruce. You love control. You love having someone waiting for you. But I won’t be that person anymore.”

The silence between you was heavy, suffocating. His eyes bore into yours, and for a moment, you thought he might let you go. But Bruce was nothing if not persistent.

“You’re coming home,” he said, his voice soft but unyielding.

Before you could respond, his hand shot forward, pressing a syringe into your arm. The sharp sting was followed by a wave of dizziness, and your legs buckled.

“Bruce,” you gasped, your vision swimming as he caught you.

“It’s for your own good,” he murmured, his arms cradling you as darkness pulled you under.

(A/n: this is why I don't take money 😅 writing shi asf 😔🔥 chat did I cook or am I cooked?)

[prongsx]

we are not children anymore, honey.

warning: swearing, a bit insinuating, f!reader, fluff.

where jason needs to remind you that you're not kids anymore and teasing him isn't the same anymore.

1,8k words

You met Jason Todd when you were both innocent children, well, as innocent as the crime alley allowed. He was your best friend, most of the scars he had back then were from picking fights with anyone who raised their voice at you, anyone who tried to sell you drugs or tried to be aggressive with you.

You had an easy body language, both of you touched each other often and played the usual games that children do, physical touch was never a distant thing.

You secretly had a crush on that somewhat reckless and smiling boy who protected you, always holding your hand. Maybe in the back of your mind you thought that one day you would get married.

At the time, he was a little shorter than you, a fact that deeply irritated him but made you laugh. Then he was adopted by Bruce Wayne and you thought that would be the end of your friendship, but there seemed to be a thread that connected you, not even taking on the mantle of Robin could separate you.

Then Jason was taken from you in the most abrupt way possible, by the hands of death itself. But not even that which seemed inescapable separated you for long, the grief that consumed you could have destroyed you, but something in your mind repeated that Jason would never leave you alone.

When Jason appeared at your door, years later, his blue eyes looking haunted, you cried, something in your heart that was dead seemed to come out of the ground in the same way as your best friend.

At first, you simply didn't know what to do with this new Jason, he himself seemed a little lost, the well had affected his emotions. He took up more space, his arms and hands were bigger. Doubts consumed you, afraid of never rescuing the old bond, but then you bought your old favorite cookie and he smiled at you.

That dimpled smile, which lit up his blue eyes and seemed to bring a reckless air to him. And you decided right then and there that nothing would stop you from being his best friend again.

The thing was that your friendship was based on a time when you were both younger and more naive, feelings were simpler. Jason died before you could be friends during that strange time in your adolescence when touching your friend seemed strange, the only memory your body had of your friendship with Jason was a sticky friendship.

"Only you could make me go to the other side of town to get that damn donut that tasted like paper." Jason grumbles, closing the latch on your window as he moves his huge body into your living room. At that moment, you feel the room shrink, and it feels like any false move will betray your racing heart as you watch Jason remove his helmet, his black curls messy in a cute way.

"They're great." You hum, reaching out to take the package from Jason.

"Seriously, there are so many bakeries with better donuts." He retorts, crossing his arms, drawing your attention to the outline of his biceps in his skintight uniform.

"The best isn't always going to be the tastiest."

Jason rolls his eyes at your completely nonsensical choice of words, flopping his tired body on the couch next to you.

"Jason, did you just sit on my couch in your dirty patrol gear?"

"Sweetie, I just walked halfway through this shitty city looking for that donut. I have a right to dirty your precious couch."

You let out a grunt, knowing he's right. He has the right, but that doesn't stop you from lightly pinching the side of his hip, where his suit had a layer of fabric.

He doesn't even blink at your attitude, his hands holding your wrist, his long fingers holding it as delicately as was allowed.

"I thought you gave up trying to play fight with me," he whispers, his voice heavy with that accent that makes your legs a little weak.

You shrug, your body approaching him almost as a reflex, your knee touching his. It's kind of annoying how much bigger he's gotten than you, and stronger. Much stronger, you know he could flip you over with a single hand and honestly the thought is more exciting than you want to admit.

"Sweet thing?" He calls to you, still with that sly smile on his lips. You blink slowly, coming back to reality.

"Hmm?"

"Aren't you going to eat your delicious donut?"

"Yes. Yes." You say, nodding.

If before you thought Jason was cute, now you could write ridiculous poems about him, two stanzas just about his sapphire eyes.

He snuggled deeper into your couch, spreading his thighs and letting out a sigh of relief at the comfort.

"Tiring patrol?" He opened his eyes when he felt your hands lightly pinching his nose, trying to make him pay attention to you again. You would never admit it out loud, but having Jason's undivided attention was kind of addictive and intoxicating.

"You could say that."

You dropped the donuts on the living room table, suddenly feeling guilty. Even though it was just him teasing you, the store that sold your favorite donuts was really far away.

"I'm sorry I made you take my stupid donuts." He let out a breath when you rested your chin on his shoulder, staring at him from under your eyelashes.

"No. I don't forgive you." He teased, his hands going down to your waist and drawing circles there.

"Seriously, I was selfish." You repeat, looking down at the red bat symbol on his chest.

His blue eyes continued to stare at you, his hands coming up and lightly holding your chin, his eyebrows furrowed. Jason never accepted it when you seemed sad towards him, or when you made it seem like you were a hindrance in his life.

"Stop that shit."

A laugh escaped through your nostrils.

"You still have such a dirty mouth, Todd. My mother still blames you for the variety of curses I know."

He laughed, the sound going straight to your stomach. It should be forbidden for someone to have such a delightful laugh to hear. Jason wasn't as much of a laugh now as he used to be when he was a child, his innocence had been taken away from him years ago, so you drank every drop of his laughter you could.

"Well, I blame you every time I act stupid. We're even."

You reached your hands up to his hair and pulled lightly, like you used to do when you wanted to get back at him when you were kids. But this time, he didn't laugh you away or flick you in retaliation. His lips curved into a thin line and his eyes blinked so fast you thought you'd imagined it.

"Sweetie." Jason's voice was low, the nickname sending an electric shock through your body. "We're not kids anymore."

"You're still just as annoying." You joked, praying he wouldn't notice the slight crack in your voice.

"No, sweet thing, you didn't understand what I meant." He said, his blue eyes staring straight into your face. His hands moved down to your hips, pulling you closer to him, your legs almost resting on his thigh. "I'm saying we're not kids anymore." He repeated.

"Yes. I obviously know that."

He let out a long sigh, as if you were irritating him with your stupidity.

His slightly chapped lips parted as he said something that you were momentarily lost in, your hands resting on his muscular thigh. He gripped your chin tighter when he noticed your inattention and felt your hand on his thigh.

"See? That's what I'm saying." He let out a laugh that wasn't like before, it wasn't genuine and open-hearted, it was low and had a feeling you couldn't quite grasp. "You keep touching me and teasing me like we're children."

"I can stop." You stammered, very confused and feeling a little dizzy. This new Jason Todd, with more scars and less shyness, was making your throat suddenly close up.

"You're not supposed to stop." He whispered, his other hand coming back to grab the back of your neck and pull your faces so close you could feel his warm breath. "Just letting you know that now, when you lie on top of me and stare at me like that, my first thought isn't to play fight with you, darling." His hand squeezed your chin lightly as he added, his voice lower, "When you stare at me like that, all I think about is kissing you stupid."

Forming words seemed harder than ever.

"Ah."

"Ah," he mimicked you in a thin voice, a goofy smile on his face, his grip on your chin bringing your lips close to his. "I say I want to make you sigh my name and that's all you have to say?"

You clear your throat, your eyelashes fluttering slightly. The hand resting on his thigh makes an involuntary movement to lightly squeeze the muscle there. Jason's blue eyes darken, a noise close to a growl leaving his lips.

"You keep doing these things. Fuck, baby, every time you almost climb on my lap like it's nothing." He took a deep breath, as if he was losing his mind, closing his eyes so as not to get lost in his own thoughts. "You must know what you're doing to me."

"No. I. No." You repeated, still very overwhelmed by how close you were. Your best friend, staring at you like he was about to destroy you.

He smiled again at your mental confusion, brushing his lips against yours and letting out a low moan that made you gasp. "Let me kiss you, please?"

You nodded, crashing your lips against his before you had to beg for it. Jason's lips were rough against yours, as if he was punishing you for making him wait, for making him yearn for this.

Jason's ability to focus on multitasking was evident when he pulled you to sit fully on his lap, without separating your lips, his hands moving up and down your body, swallowing the small moans that came out of your mouth.

"I think I've already thought of a way for you to pay for your stupid donuts," he whispered, pulling your lips away for a few seconds to smile at you.

You laughed, feeling lighter than you had in years. Your hands cupped his face, caressing his cheek. There were so many questions and doubts swirling around your mind, but Jason pulled you into a hug, kissing your forehead.

"Honey, it took you a long time to realize that you're mine. Just relax."

You blinked away the tears, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, a genuine smile on your lips.

Your best friend was in love with you too, and everything would be okay.

I hope you liked it, sorry for the mistakes, I need to review all my works. My epub box is open, I just want to write more for Jason!! I'm stupid for him. And I'll be dying on the hill that Jason Todd has a dirty mouth. I'm trying to write for a gender-neutral reader but I've discovered that I have difficulty, I'm sorry, but I'll keep trying.

[luludeluluramblings]

One thing I always wonder in Neglected! Reader scenarios that I haven’t seen anyone explore is Married/Single Mom! Reader. It’s drama and angst potential.

Like Reader having a boyfriend and getting pregnant while still living in the Wayne manor, and everyone just takes a little too long to figure out. Maybe they do find out early with the morning sickness and whatnot but the thought of Bruce looking at Reader like 6 months pregnant and being like “Wait a minute… 🤨” and Reader wasn’t even trying to hide it that much.

And same scenario except Reader moved out either while pregnant or got pregnant after, Batfam forgets all about them and when fate does bring them together (like the Bruce/Selina wedding concept) she is literally about to pop or has a whole baby with her. Cue Bruce (and later everyone else) losing his shit because omg??? 😧 that’s his first grandchild and he had no idea!!

… And then if the Reader is married in this scenario, makes it all the more complicated (she didn’t invite anyone to her wedding? what do you mean Alfred attended when we had no idea?). Everyone is straight up hostile towards her spouse (Damian, Bruce and Jason are insufferable) and safe to say he won’t be around for long. Single mom Reader though, the amount of emotional manipulation about kids needing a family and father figures and you should move back in so everyone can help with the baby… Yeah.

Platonic!Yandere!Batfam x SugarBaby!Reader x Older!Husband

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N:OOOOO, I have something I was working on that I was having fun with that you might like!

A/N:Neglected!Reader with Older!Husband. (It's husband because it's based of that meme Your daughter calls me daddy, too. And, Reader is Female, because we're making a baby in here.)

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You, sweet thing, do the typical thing and run off from home, once you turn the legal age. Checking in with Alfred on occasion, but just living your best life. Only, in typical fashion, all those years of neglect lead to severe daddy issues. And, a minor itty bitty attraction to older men.

You get lucky though because you manage to find a fine one that loves to spoil his baby girl with vacations and spa days. All the best for his baby. He loves taking you places and showing you a good time. So, it's no wonder he plans a Babymoon for you when you're expecting your first child. Anything for you.

Unfortunately, Daddy gets called into work right before the vacation. And, despite you insisting you stay, he makes you go and promises to join you as soon as possible.

(No, the man isn't cheating. He just gotta make the money for his baby.)

You have a good time, pregnant on the beach. Getting massages and spa treatments. Video calling your husband every time the baby kicks and flutters.

Unfortunetly, even though you haven't used the Wayne name since you've been married, some drug lords recognize you and decide to ransom you. Dragging you back to Gotham in your little sundress the just so hides your baby bump.

Gotham media runs with the story. Lost Wayne heiress held hostage. No one is ignoring that.

The bat's pull off a daring rescue, but you being stubborn, try to escape on your own. Fearing for your baby's life if they just happen to chose not to come. They never came when you were little, why would they come now.

You happen to injure yourself while escaping. But, manage to make it to an on scene ambulance while the Bats take care of the thugs. You happen to faint on the way to the hospital, leaving the doctor's discover you pregnancy.

Already the media is surrounding the hospital for the most drama filled story of the year. Thankfully, the paramedics have some compassion in hide the bump when rolling you into the ER.

With the media's attention, your husband flies into Gotham and makes it to the hospital just in time to ask the nurse where you are in front of Bruce.

Bruce, of course, bristles when a man his age burst in the hospital demanding to see you, but is using the wrong last name. The nurse saying only family can see you.

"That's my daughter," Bruce will say. Assuming this man is trying to claim you as his. But, he already did.

Making Bruce, the family, the nurses, the patients, and the reporter who managed to sneak in freeze when he says, "That's my wife."

Imagine the doctor that just finished checking on you and your baby walking in right after announcing that you were both okay. The look on Bruce's face when he realizes that this man, his age, not only married you, but had the audacity to put a baby in you.

Even better, the smug way your husband looks at Bruce when he brushes past him to follow the nurse to your room because husband beats father and you demanded to see him.

The drama that follows is going to be legendary.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: I had this idea jotted down and fluffed it up just for this. I'm not sure you wanna know who I had in mind for Reader's husband. (Dude is from another franchise.) But, the thought of him interacting with Bruce as the guy who married Bruce's daughter and knocked her up, delights me in such a visceral way.

[i-cant-sing]

Time Traveller AU part 14

I’m back baby!🕺

Check out the Time Traveller masterlist here! Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Your body wakes up before your mind does. You feel the warmth of the sheets first, unlike the freezing cold when you dove into the snow and saw-

Jack the Ripper.

Your eyes snapped open at the sensation of someone touching your feet and prepared yourself to see the notorious murderer having a foot fetish.

“Relax. I’m just bandaging your feet.”

Silas?

He’s the Ripper?

“What are you-” you gulped. “You… you found me?”

Silas raised a brow at the fear in your voice. “It would’ve been hard not to. You were lying on my side of the bed, under my covers.” He stated, pulling your feet back in his lap gently. “There’s no need to be scared really. I’m not mad that you got in my bed. I mean- after your performance last night, I suppose its the least you deserve.” He massaged the healing balm into your soles. “I’m not a monster, Y/n.”

What? “I- I was in bed?”

Silas looked at you befuddled. “You still are. You left the stage after your dance, and when I came to the room, I found you in bed.”

Did I… did I imagine all of that? Was I in bed the entire night? Did I hallucinate running off to the snow and seeing the Ripper after that tea-

The tea!

You glanced at Silas who was now wrapping bandages around your feet with utmost care.

He probably told Cadbury to lace my tea with God knows what! It makes sense. Cadbury is the most loyal servant to Silas, they have that knock-off “Bruce Wayne-Alfred” relationship going on.

“Did you drug me?”

Silas’s head shot up. “What?”

You pulled your legs back. “Did you drug me last night?”

“Have you lost your mind-” Silas nostrils flared at your accusation. “No, Y/n. I did not drug my wife-”

“Stop it.” You snapped. “Dont pretend like you give a crap about me. You were counting on me to fail on stage, to embarrass myself for whatever stupid revenge you have planned.”

His lips pulled into a thin line. “I was counting on you to fail and look how that turned out. You lied to me. You said you didn’t know ballet at all and then proceeded to dance like a prima donna. You ruined my plan but you don’t see me complaining. And now you dare to accuse me of drugging you?”

“I’m not accusing you, Silas. I know you did it! You made Cadbury gave me that tea laced with something so that I would make a fool out of myself, but things didn’t turn out the way you planned, did it? I don’t know what drug you gave me, but my pettiness will always be stronger than anything you could spike me with!” You screamed at him. He stared at you with bridled fury as he pushed your now bandaged feet off his lap before standing up.

“I will say this for the last time- I did not drug you. I did not plan on drugging you, ever- and if I did, you surely wouldn’t see it coming because my intelligence would always beat any amount of your pettiness, Y/n.” Silas’ eyes narrowed. “I don’t know what you were hoping to achieve by pushing all these absurd accusations on me. I admit that I did plot for you to not perform well in front of the queen, but like I said before- we’re on the same team. Like it or not, we’re married. You’re associated with me, thereby you are my responsibility and while I may use you from time to time to exact my revenge- which I have told you about, I would NEVER go as far as to endanger my own wife for this.”

You scoffed. “Wife? This is a sham marriage-”

He leaned closer suddenly. “Sham or not, we did get married in front of law and in religion! You are my wife, my family now and I dont need to stoop as low as to hurt you.” Silas stared into your eyes and for a second, you almost believed him.

But very early on in your life, you knew better than to trust any man who wasn’t your father or brother.

“But you did hurt me, Silas.” Confusion flickered in his eyes. “You have hurt me several times, but it never hurt me before because the wounds weren’t ever that deep. But last night, you- you crossed a fucking line.”

“I told you I didn’t drug you-”

“I’m not talking about that, though that may have been less painful than what you actually did.” You said before pushing him away to stand up and move past him.

“And what did I do?” Silas watched as you walked on your injured feet, but he knew it would be fruitless to try and stop you.

You glanced over your shoulder. “Why should I tell you when you didn’t care enough to remember it in the first place?”

-

You stomped all the way outside to the gardens, where snow covered as the eye could see. You wanted to confirm it, to look for any clues that would indicate that you did not hallucinate your encounter with the notorious murderer.

There has to be something. It cant- it had to be real.

You found the tree and remember it was near the spot you dove into. But no matter how much you looked, how much snow you shoveled, you couldn’t find anything. If any footprints did exist, they were covered by the snowfall. There was nothing left behind, not by you, or by the Ripper. Not a drop of blood, or a strand of hair. Nothing.

Huffing, you marched back inside the house, ignoring the ache in your feet and the frost in your hands. As soon as you entered, you spotted Cadbury making his way to the dining room with a tray in his hands.

“Cadbury!” He halted, looking back at you in surprise as you walked upto him. You already knew what his answer would be but you couldn’t stop yourself. “Cadbury, I need you to be honest with me and know that if you lie, I will catch you.” You tried to sound as menacing as possible. “Yes, ma’am?” He looked clueless. Resisting the urge to grab him by the collar and throttle him, you settled for a huff as you asked him.

“Did you drug me last night?”

His brows shot up in surprise. “Drug you? Why would I-”

“Cut the bullshit.” He looked even more shocked at your tone. “Last night, before I went on stage, you gave me a cup of tea. I know for a fact that you spiked it with something. Don’t deny it, I know it. Just tell me if Silas put you up to it.”

He shook his head. “Ma’am, I can assure you I did not drug you tea, nor did I ever intend to. All I gave you was chamomile tea to calm you down.”

Before you could accuse him again, Sarah called for him in the dining room. Cadbury looked at you apologetically. “I have to serve Miss Sarah her breakfast before she leaves. Would you like something as well? Eggs, toast… tea?”

You glared at him harshly enough at the end that it made him rush back to the dining hall.

Wait, Sarah’s leaving?

You entered the dining hall and saw Sarah sitting there.

“Oh, good morning, my prima donna!” She made her way to you, pulling you in as she pecked your cheeks, her eyes shining. “I didn’t get to see you again last night, but my darling you were so wonderful on stage! I am so proud of you, my little star! Everyone is talking about you! And even praising me for training you, but the credit is all to you!”

You smiled, heart fluttering at praise. “No, I did well all thanks to you.” Squeezing her hands gently, you asked where she was going. “I heard Cadbury say you were leaving-?”

“Ah! Yes, darling! I’m going to Edinburgh for a couple of months. I need to take care of some family business there. I’m sorry love, I was so busy with everything that I forgot to tell you. I thought Silas would’ve mentioned it to you.”

Yeah. Silas, my lovely husband, would always keep me in the loop.

An hour later, you and Silas stood at the doorway watching Sarah’s carriage leave.

“Why didn’t you tell me she was leaving?” You muttered, eyes trailed forward. You knew if you looked at him again, all the anger from the morning would return.

“I forgot.” You almost wrung him by his neck.

“You always keep things from me.”

“Y/n, dont start.” He let out a small huff. “Why does it even matter? How does her leaving affect you?”

You looked at him in disbelief. “Its not about her leaving. Its that you didn’t tell me! Why the hell do you keep things from me?!”

He turned to you, narrowing his eyes. “Oh so now you want to play the doting wife? She’s my grandmother, she told me! Me knowing is enough! I am not privy to tell you anything!” He snapped. “Like you said, this is a sham marriage and as far as I’m concerned, you’re nothing but an employee. Know your place, woman!”

He marched out of the house in fury, leaving you standing there in absolute shock.

You sat in the gardens, stewing over what happened with Silas when Cadbury came to fetch you.

“Miss, there’s a carriage waiting for you.” “What? Why?”“I would assume its to take you somewhere.” You pursed your lips to not let a sarcastic comment slip.

“Who sent the carriage, Cadbury?” Did Silas sent it to take you out for an early lunch and make up?

“Mr Blackwood.” Henry?

You made your way towards the carriage, about to ask the driver when the carriage door swung open.

“There you are, kitten!” Henry grinned, stepping out of the carriage. “I should tell you, its not good to make your boss wait.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “What do you want, Henry?”

“Well, I came to fetch you, seeing as you are in fit condition and not busy, there’s no reason for you to be skipping work.” Work? Ah, yes. You were supposed to be at the office at 8am and its 10am now.

“I’m not coming back. What use is it if I cant write what I want without you shutting it down?” He shrugged. “Silas did make me a good deal last night while you were dancing- marvellously, I must say.” He went to grab your chin but you smacked his hand away. Sighing, an amused look in his eyes he straightened his broad shoulders. “You can write what you want, within reason, and I’ll allow it to be published.” He nodded his head towards the carriage. “Shall we, milady?”

“I’ll think about it-” You turned to leave when he caught your wrist, yanking it to make you collide with his chest.

“I was being polite, kitten.” He looked down at you, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Get in the carriage, Y/n. Now.”

-

You were sitting on your desk after making a brief stop at Henry’s tailor, so that you could change into a suit for your male disguise. The suit, even though it was the cheapest one available at the shop, was still pretty expensive and luxurious enough for a small time reporter like you. It turned a few heads, but only Colin asked you where you got it from.

“One of Silas’s.” You muttered dismissively, which now that you think about it, sounds like you wore your husband’s clothes after shacking up.

You didn’t know Colin also shared the same thought when he took a sip of his half-n-half coffee (half alcohol, half coffee.)

“Anyways, want to go to hospitals with me? Investigate, now that you are in disguise anyways.”

Looking up from your desk, you spotted Henry in his office talking with someone. His eyes made contact with yours for a moment, and he winked at you.

“Sure.” You need to get out of here before you combust.

“Great. I was thinking we could go to St Peters hospital-”“No.” You stood up, grabbing your coat. “We’re going to Aveline’s.”

“The asylum?” Colin asked, following you.

Yes. The same asylum Silas forbade you from entering. Why? You don’t know, but you suspected it was linked to something personal so you respected his wishes. Now? Fuck. That.

He crossed a line with me. Now I will too.

You made your way towards the exit, which happened to be near Henry’s office (because he wanted to keep tabs on everyone who entered and left the building) and you were ready to fight if he tried to stop you. But before you could, Henry suddenly left his office- his face was alarmed. He didn’t even spare you a glance as he left with a few men, practically running out of the door.

What was that about?

-

Why was Henry in a rush? Why did he look so alarmed?What was his deal with Silas? What had Silas offered him for you? Where was Silas—

“Here we are.” You both stood at the street of the asylum, spotting the guards at the gate. The place still looked as lavish as ever, the beautiful gardens and the Gothic inspired architecture, now encased in snow gave the asylum a daunting yet “you’re-too-poor-for-this-fancy-rehab” look. “How do we get in? The guards stationed wont permit us to step a foot in there, and I’m pretty sure Silas gave them a word about you and me.” He stated, frustratedly running a hand through his hair.

You looked at the asylum, looking for something until your eye caught it.

“Its a big place, Colin. Come on.”

The property itself was on a large piece of land, surrounded by walls and tall trees, which meant that there had to be another opening. Plus, with how heavily its snowing, the guards aren’t always on their stations. You just need to find another way in.

And you did.

“Colin, get your stupid leg over the wall!” You whisper-yelled at him as you gave him a boost. Colin, who apparently had no upper body strength, was struggling to climb the wall. “I am trying!”

“Try harder!” You gave him another shove, practically jostling him up at this point. Finally after a few more minutes in the cold, he was able to sling his leg over. Panting, he extended his arm to you. “Take my hand. I’ll pull you up.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, right.” In a flash, you scaled the wall with the expert of a mountaineer. Colin watched in surprise as you perched yourself next to him on the wall, without even breaking a sweat. “How did you-?”

“I’d love to get into details of how much more athletic I am than you, but we need to get down before someone spots us. And I still have to help you down before you break your hip, grandpa.”

Moments later, you two had made your way inside the asylum, blending in with the other visitors there. “Go charm the nurses and staff. See what you can find. I’ll go look around.” You told Colin, who only warned you to beware of the patients there.

You walked down the hallway, looking into the rooms with the doors open, most were unoccupied, which would make sense since its lunch time and everyone’s probably eating or doing some activity.

You were about to walk back to Colin to see if he’d made any progress when your eyes caught sight of a door. It… it was different than the rest. The paint was chipped, and the door itself looked quite old. Not unused, since you couldn’t spot any dust. The doorknob was made of wood, while every other doorknob you’d seen here was metal.

Walking upto it, you were immediately hit with a daunting aura. Looking at the doorknob, you spotted the areas where the paint was more chipped, the pattern indicating where someone’s hand would hold it.

Your gut is screaming at you to open this door, that there is something behind it that you need to know. With your hand hovering only a few millimetres above the handle, you’re about to enter-

“Hey!” You froze, whipping your head around. An angry nurse stood there. “What do you think you’re doing, young man?! This area is off limits!”

“Off limits?” She glared. “Yes, off limits! Who even allowed you here?!” She marched over to you. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”

If she caught you, then Silas will find out and he’d make it much harder for you to find out anything about him.

“I’m so sorry. I was just- I was just looking for the bathroom.”

She narrowed her eyes at you. “The bathroom is all the way at the other end of the hallway, with clear signs! What are you doing here?!”

Oh shit. What possible excuse could you come up with as to why you’re trying to break into a room in the asylum?

“I heard someone crying.” A flicker of confusion came on her face, but you continued to pile on the lie. “I was just going to the bathroom when I heard someone crying. It was- it was just so pitiful, so heart breaking, like- like-”

“Like a girl wailing?” She asked, her face paling.

You nodded. “Yes! And- and as I came near, I thought that someone was calling for help and I was just going to check in-”

“No. No, no, no.” The nurse shook her head, grabbing your forearm as she began dragging you away. “No one is allowed in there. Mr Fitzg-” She cut herself off before she could reveal anything further.

“Mr FitzGeorge? As in, Silas FitzGeorge?” Her expression gave her away. It was Silas, and he was connected to that room.

“Tell me who is in that room.” “No one.” “Tell me the truth. I heard someone cry-”

“This is the truth!” She harshly whispered as she dragged you out of that hallway. “There is no one in that room! It hasn’t been occupied for years, not since she-”

“Since who?” You pressed. “I clearly heard someone cry. And you confirmed it. Is there someone being abused? You tell me now before I go break down that room!”

Her eyes widened as she grabbed your arms tighter. “No, please dont- I- I- fine, I’ll tell you the truth.” She looked around before whispering. “You cant tell this to anyone but… someone died in that room. It was- it was a girl, and she- she wasn’t getting better in the head anymore. And then one day, she just- she jumped out of the window and broke her neck. Ever since then, many people have said that they’ve heard a girl crying and we all assumed that it was just her spirit trapped in that room.”

“Who was the girl?” “I cant tell you-” “You can and you will because if you don’t, I will have my friends at the police department come and give this place a visit and possibly examine a patient’s death due to hospital negligence.” You could’ve said that you’d have story leaked to the papers but you didn’t want to arouse suspicion if she told Silas about someone snooping around his business.

Biting her lip, you saw the defeat in her eyes.

“Daisy. Daisy FitzGeorge.”

Silas’s elder sister.

The nurse proceeded to tell you that the last time Silas came to the asylum itself was on the day of her funeral. He saw her room and then paid the asylum to keep this room as is, leaving her belongings there and its been unoccupied and in its original state since.

“I think he just wants to preserve what was left of her.” The nurse added thoughtfully.

Maybe thats why he’s never visited the asylum again, why he didn’t want me wandering in and finding about Daisy. Silas has painful memories linked with this place, and perhaps he didn’t want me knowing about his sister being a psychiatric patient.

You felt a small part in you feel guilty for snooping around his business. You’re no stranger to the loss of a sibling-

No. You closed your eyes. Not now.

The nurse lead you back to the main hall where Colin was chatting up some doctor. You’re about to head back to him when you remember something.

“Does the asylum offer volunteer work, say something like… a barber? I see some residents who could do with a good hair cut or two-”

The nurse looked at you like you were stupid. “I’m afraid not. We have a strict policy against non hospital staff bringing in sharp objects like scissors, blades, the sorts.”

“Right. Thank you.” You nodded before turning around.

So, Benny is a liar and I hope for his sake, its for a good cause.

-

It was an hour before closing when you and Colin came back to the office… which was now in utter chaos. The place was divided, men on either side with papers scattered everywhere as they kept a yelling.

“What the hell is going on here?” Colin asked a coworker but you were focused on the screaming match in front of you.

“We need to be the first one to report this!” One man yelled. “It is our duty as journalist, as honest men! To make the public aware of this!”

“We cant until we permission from above!” Another countered. “Besides, what use is it publishing about such crimes except to make the people panic!”

“Then let them panic! It is a greater calamity to not know and be afraid of the unknown, then to know and be afraid of the known!”

“But we still don’t know who the Ripper is!” “The articles about him will rattle him-” “No, it’ll only idolise him and give him the validation he needs!”

Colin pulled you aside to fill you in on what the coworker had told him.

“The Ripper strikes again.” “I figured. Who did he kill this time? More night girls?”

“One girl and two men in broad daylight.” You frowned. The Ripper hadn’t ever targeted men before. No, his usual targets were women, often prostitutes. And he was mostly active at night time, when the darkness concealed him and his intentions.

“Where did this happen?” It had to be the Gentlemen’s club. It’d explain why Henry left in such a hurry.

Colin looked uncertain whether to tell you or not.

“The FitzGeorge estate.”

Your face paled. “My… home?” For a moment, you felt like the sky fell on you.

“Yes but-” You rushed past him, flying out of the door.

One girl and two men.

You ran as fast as you could down London streets, pushing people out of the way.

One girl. Two men.

It could be anyone. The Ripper doesn’t target the rich. No, he has a pattern. He’s a serial killer and serial killers stick to their patterns.

But you cant trust a murderer. You cant trust someone who is not right in the head.

One girl- maybe its just a passerby, maybe a sex worker for the two men.

Or maybe Sarah came back.

No. Your lungs screamed for a break as you rushed down.

Two men. Two men. It could be anyone, someone you don’t know.

Or it could be Cadbury and Silas.

Killed near the FitzGeorge estate.

He’s sending me a threat. He’s coming for me next.

The estate came into view and you saw the crowd of people and the cops trying to hold everyone back. You tried to go past the gates, but seeing that you were still in disguise, they found it hard to believe that you were “Mrs” FitzGeorge.

Fortunately, Cadbury was outside and able to recognise you.

“Thank God you’re home, miss Y/n!” He helped you inside the house. “You wouldn’t believe the people trying to get in-” “Who- who did the Ripper kill, Cadbury?” You asked breathlessly.

“I dont know them personally miss, and I doubt I’d be able to recognise them with how badly they were mutiliated. But I heard the detectives say that they were Mr Blackwoods employees.”

“Henry’s employees…? From the club?” He shrugged. “I dont know miss, but the detectives found the bodies outside the estate walls. Mr Blackwood was the first one to arrive at the scene with the detectives and he recognised the bodies apparently.”

He came here?

“Where’s Silas?” You asked instead.

“He went to work this morning. I’ve tried to reach him but to no avail…”

You had Cadbury send someone for Silas. He needs to be home right now.

Its not because I care about him. I’m not worried that these murders near his house was a message and that he’s the Ripper’s next target.

With a handkerchief held to your nose to mask the awful smell, you went to the crime scene to look at the mangled bodies that were now being removed for autopsy.

Henry was there as well, his usual cocky expression replaced with concern. If you looked closely, you would notice a hint of…unsureness? Fear of the unknown?

“Henry.” He turned to you, his expression now guarded. “I’m sorry for your employees… demise.”

He gave a stiff nod, confirming that they were indeed his workers. “Why is the Ripper targeting your staff?”

“There is no Ripper.” He snapped. “I told you before, he’s nothing but a fictional character created to instil fear in public.”

You excuse his tone for being “overwhelmed by grief”. “Okay. But we can agree that there is a particular man going after your employees. Why?”

His lips fell into a thin line, and you could see him trying to control his anger. “I don’t have the time to let you play detective so that you could write a story for the paper to make yourself feel good about “making it as a strong woman in a male dominated field”, Y/n. Step aside.”

You instead, blocked his path. “Yeah, I don’t need you to dominate any fields, Henry. I’m only asking you so that when my husband, you know- Silas, comes home and asks me why is there a crime scene and a crowd outside his house, I can give him an answer instead of letting him go to the cops and report the last murder of that woman outside your club and bring your shady businesses into light for the world.”

Henry narrowed his eyes at you before leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“If he comes for me, I will come for everything he holds dear and make him watch as I destroy his world.” You glared at him as he stared you down. “You don’t get to make threats here, Y/n.”

You returned back inside the house, where Cadbury informed you that he still wasn’t able to get ahold of Silas. With Sarah gone and most of the house staff busy being interrogated by the detectives, you had the house all to yourself.

You wandered around the house, hoping for an epiphany to strike you for all the questions that plagued your mind.

Why did Benny lie about volunteering at the asylum?

What happened to Daisy?

Why did Silas not want me at the asylum?

Who is killing Henry’s employees?

What were they even doing near this house?

Who is the Ripper?

Entering the library, you sat in your usual spot near the window at the end, a cozy corner behind the shelves. This was the place where you were trying to fix, or rather- create your time machine. Yes, despite everything that had been happening, you still found some time to actually work on your way home. For now, you had only done the maths and collected some raw material to start building it, but you still had a long way to go.

This would’ve been much easier if I had my old machine, even if it had been destroyed by the blast, at least you wouldn’t have to start completely from scratch.

You had hidden the metal scraps and a notebook under the shelf because the maids never bothered to clean under there (judging from the dust collected there) and when you pulled them out from under there, your hand touched something hard as well, something unfamiliar.

Bending down to look, you spotted a black leather-bound book. You pulled it out, sitting on the floor as you wiped the dust off it, coughing in the process.

You began reading it, heart sinking the more you flipped the pages.

This was Daisy’s diary.

-

I have to tell Silas!

You ran out of the library when Cadbury informed you he had returned home.

Making your way to his study, you barged in with Daisy’s diary in hand.

“Silas!” You panted as you saw him sitting down behind the desk, glass of scotch in hand. “Where were you?! I was worried-!” You cut yourself off when you saw the disdain behind his eyes.

“Silas?” His eyes landed on the diary and you saw a new wave of rage flash across his eyes.

“I told you to not go to the asylum, didn’t I?” He stood up, hand gripping the glass. “I told you not to pry. I gave you everything- money, land, power, that fucking job at the paper, everything. All I asked was that you don’t go to the asylum.”

“I know but-” Silas threw the glass against the wall, shattering the crystal.

“Dont talk. Don’t fucking talk or I swear to God, I will hurt you.” He whispered but the words echoed into your soul. His eyes were rimmed red as he took a step towards you, then two backwards, balling his hands into fists. Clenching and unclenching. Holding back.

“You went to the asylum, you went to her room, you fucking read her diary. Who the fuck do you think you are?!” Silas yelled, and you couldnt tell if he was crying or drunk. Or both.

You stood frozen as he continued to scream. “I- I don’t understand what you were trying to do? Are you trying to write about my dead sister, desecrate her by telling the world about her suicide, drag my family through the mud? Didn’t I tell you that I wont tolerate that? Not even by you?”

He walked upto you again, this time he was so fast that you thought for a moment he was going to strike you.

“Worst thing is, you don’t even realise what you’ve done. What you’ve taken from me, what you’ve ruined for me.”

He closed his eyes and backed away from you, running a hand through his hair frustratedly.

You let out a shaky breath. “Silas. I understand what losing a sibling is. My brother- my brother died too-”

“Good. And if I was him, I’d kill myself. Wouldn’t want to be associated with someone like you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as your lips parted.

“No. No, no, no.” Silas glared at you. “Dont you dare fucking cry. You’re not the victim here.”

He shook his head at you. “You know why I’m so fucking infuriated with you? Its not because you went against my direct orders and pried into my personal life. No. I’m mad at you because you have no fucking shame. Not an ounce. You’re no better than those woman in Henry’s club, actually you’re way worse because they sell their bodies for money but you? You sell your self respect, your dignity for nothing except under some false pretence that you can make it in this harsh world as a woman when in reality, all you want is to find out about everyone’s secrets and write a fucking column about it for a few pennies. You just don’t want to admit defeat, just cant accept being told no and I have no doubt that this characterless, shameless habit of yours, prying into people’s business is the very reason your brother is no longer here.”

Neither of you knew how long you two stood there in silence, but you were the one who moved first when the diary slipped out of your hand and fell on the floor with a thud.

You simply left his study, then his house, and continued walking into the cold winter night with nothing to keep you warm, not a coat or a shawl, not even shoes.

“Characterless.”

“Shameless.”

“I’d kill myself. Wouldn’t want to be associated with someone like you.”

“Someone like you.”

Someone like me?

Me?

You fell to your knees, your bare feet no longer able to stand the cold. Or was it because of Silas’s words?

A wretched sob broke from you. Then another, then you quieted down, biting your tongue as your lips quivered like that of a child’s. You tried to breathe, to bring air into your lungs but it seemed so hard to do. Your shoulders shook as your body finally succumbed to exhaustion, falling to the snowy ground.

Qasim.

Qasim.

Qasim.

Your brother’s face was the last thing that came to mind as you felt someone’s arms wrap around you before your world faded to black.

-

“Make sure that the club is prepared for the New Year’s party. Have Lady Scarlett bring the new girls for our special guest. No expense is to be spared.” Henry’s assistant nodded obediently, jotting down all the details.

“Did you take care of the bodies?” Henry asked, taking a puff from his cigar.

“Yes sir. The funeral arrangements were made and the burial was done at night. Unmarked graves, as usual.” Henry gave a approving hum, his eyes darting to the wall, then back at the assistant.

“Did you find the Ripper?”

“Not yet, sir. I’ve placed the highest bounty on him and still no news. Its like he doesn’t exist.”

He exists alright. Henry took another inhale of the smoke. “Increase the bounty. Send more men and interrogate everyone. And hire more security around the club.” The assistant nodded again. Henry closed his eyes. “Is someone keeping tabs on Y/n?”

“Yes, sir. I sent two guards to shadow her. Last I heard, Mrs FitzGeorge-” the assistant cleared his throat when Henry glared at him. “Miss Y/n, had walked out of the FitzGeorge estate in tears. One guard came here to report to me while the other is still keeping her safe.”

The corner of his lips quirked up. Silas must’ve found out that you went to the asylum again. He was having someone follow you. What a creep.

Henry stood up from his chair, putting out his cigar. “Clear my schedule for tomorrow. Its time to pay Mr FitzGeorge a visit.”

And bring Y/n home.

See you soon, kitten.

-

“Stop being such a baby.” You roll your eyes as you hear him fill your pantry with groceries.

“Hey! I’m your older brother. If anyone’s a baby, its you!” Qasim admonished you playfully.

“Says the man who wants me to go skiing with him because he’s too embarrassed to ask anyone else to film him doing small stunts.” You tease as you continue to read your history book. Qasim walks over and plucks it out of your hands. Glaring at him, you try to reach for the book. “I have a test tomorrow and I still have 8 chapters to go.”

“Why do you wait until the last minute to study? This is quite self destructive.” You cross your arms. “Well not everyone is blessed with an eidetic memory like you.”

“True as it may be, I still use my brain to actually understand the concepts rather than just memorise it word-for-word.” He opened the book, taking a look at the topic you were reading before scoffing. “Ancient Egypt? Come on, I’ll teach you it myself.”

You opened your eyes to someone petting your hair.

Knowing who it was, you weren’t startled as you woke up.

“How are you feeling?” Benjamin asked, watching you sit up in your old bedroom.

“Better.” You smiled gently.

Last night, after running out of Silas’s house, Benny was the one who found you crying in the snow, barefoot and near hypothermia. He wrapped his coat around you and took you home, the flat and you explained to him what happened at Silas, what he said to you. If Benny didn’t feel himself compelled to console you, he would’ve marched all the way to the estate to strangle Silas himself.

Sitting at the table, eating the breakfast he made you, you were reminded you of all the good times at the flat. Everyone else was at work for now, but they’d be returning in a few hours.

“Y/n.” Benny pulled out a few documents and passed them to you. “I got what you asked for.”

Wiping your mouth, you picked up the stack of papers and read them.

“DIVORCE DEED”.

It wasn’t what you asked for, so much so it was what Benny had strongly suggested you to get. After he told him what happened with Silas, he was ready to go over there and beat the shit out of Silas but he stayed back for you. You needed someone last night, someone who didn’t make you feel like you were all alone.

Someone like Qasim.

So, ignoring all the evidence and lies that pointed Benny as a suspect to the murders, you used his shoulder to cry on. He ran his fingers though your hair all night and advised you to part ways Silas because even if you were to overlook all the awful words he said to you, you cannot stray away from the fact that he threatened to hurt you. Thus, it would be unsafe for you to go back to him.

You agreed, partly because of his reasoning and partly because you just- you’re tired of everything now. You need to go back to your timeline, and for that, you need to divert all your attention to making the time machine.

Picking up the pen, you looked at the document again, eyes focused on the name “Silas FitzGeorge”.

Benny squeezed your hand. You nodded. This is the right thing to do.

With a sigh, you signed the document.

Benny took the documents. “I’ll have these delivered to his house.” You hummed, knowing that if he went there himself, he’d probably get in a fight with Silas.

“Y/n.” You looked up at him. “Dont worry about anything now. I’ll take care of everything, hm?”

“Thank you, Benny.” You stand up. “I would need some help with a new wig for work. I left my stuff at Silas’s and…” He waved you off, understanding your predicament. “I already was working on a couple of new pieces for my new clients. Come on, Mr Holmes.”

-

Silas hadn’t slept a wink since yesterday, so his hangover was significantly still worse and his morning got even more worse when Henry strolled in his study.

“Well, you look like you could be having a better day.” Silas glared at him from his position.

“How did you get in here?”

“Just charmed a maid with my irresistible looks.” He grinned, sitting across from him.

“Great. She’s fired.” Silas rubbed his bloodshot eyes, that were tired and itchy. “Now now, no need to go around firing the staff just because you’re in a bad mood. Speaking of bad mood- where is your wife?”

Silas stared at him, not with jealousy but… with indifference. “I don’t know.”

“Not a good quality in a husband to not keep tabs on his missus.” Henry smirked.

“I dont need to keep tabs, when you already are.”

Henry raised a brow. “So you know that I know where she is?” Taking his silence as an answer, he continued. “Go ahead, ask me where she is.”

Silas stood up and for a moment, Henry thought he was going to punch him. Instead, Silas staggered over to the corner table to grab the bottle of scotch.

“I dont care.” He said, pouring himself a drink.

“Trouble in paradise?” Henry pushed. Silas took a sip. “What do you want, Henry? Is your paper in trouble that you would need to write about my marital life? I would assume that you would have a lot to write about now that more employees of yours have been murdered. How many does it make it now? 3? 4?”

The smirk was wiped off Henry’s face. “Thats precisely why I’m here.” Silas walked back to his seat, not offering him a drink. “I hope you don’t pursue this case with the police. I wouldn’t be bothering if I could just buy the detectives, but seeing as this has happened near the house of someone belonging to royalty, they are concerned for your safety. I want you to make them brush this under the rug and we can all go on our ways.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because if you dont, they will go digging around my business. And if they get in my business, I will send them your way as well.” Henry’s lip quirked up. “You’re well aware that I know where Y/n has been going about, hm? I remember her last visit was for an assignment, where did she go? Ah, Aveline’s asylum.”

Silas’s jaw ticked and it took everything in him to not smash the glass in hands on Henry’s head.

“I hope we understand each other, hm?” Henry stood up, buttoning his coat when Cadbury walked in through the door, looking alarmed.

“What is it?” Silas snapped as Cadbury rushed to him and gave him a stack of papers.

“Sir, I- someone left these for you- they-” Silas pulled the documents out and read them, his brows furrowing as his lips set into a thin line.

He set them on the table and Henry couldn’t help but peek.

“DIVORCE DEED”.

Henry couldn’t help the smile that graced his lips.

Fucking finally.

“I’ll take my leave now, Mr FitzGeorge.”

Henry left the manor in a rush. He needed to see you now.

-

Colin was expressing his happiness on you coming back to live with him and the guys when Henry had called you in his office.

“How are you today, Y/n?” Henry asked, closing the door. “I wouldn’t have blamed you for taking the day off today, you know, after what your marriage has fallen through.”

Your eyes widened. “How did you-”

“I know everything, Y/n. I knew this was going to happen eventually, after all, how long could you have resisted a man like me?”

“What the hell do you want?”

Henry stood against the desk, leaning back slightly as he looked at you. “I have a proposal for you.” The stupid smile on his face gave away that you were not going to like what he was going to offer.

“Marry me and I’ll take care of you for life. Or- don’t marry me, and you’re fired.”

“What?”

He pushed himself off the desk. “You know I fancy you, despite all your quirks. I think we’d make a great team, make a lot of people very mad, especially your soon-to-be ex-husband.”

“So you just want me to be pawn for your plans?”

He shrugged. “Well I’d hoped we could eventually grow our family, but if you’re not into that, then sure. You can be a pawn for me to use. You had no problem with this arrangement when you were with Silas.”

You stood up from your chair. “How… dare you?” Seething, you walked upto him, who only smiled looking down at you. “I would rather jump off a building than marry a disgusting piece of cow dung like you. You think just because I’m a divorcee, you can threaten me into marrying you just so I could have a job here? Fuck you. I quit.”

You stormed out of his office, leaving Henry grinning at his plan working.

“Mark my words, kitten. You will end up marrying me. One way or another.”

-

“Fucking fuck! Fuck! FUCK!” You screamed as soon as you got back to house, knowing no one would be at him right, you needed to get your rage out before you combusted. Shaking in anger, you grabbed a glass and you were ready to throw it against the wall but decided against it.

“Y/n.” Qasim had been looking everywhere for you, after you’d vanished from the time your cousins came over to lunch. They had made some mean comments about… well your family’s financial status, and if it weren’t for your parents presence, you would’ve returned the insults with something worse enough to make them cry.

Instead of replying to them, you were now seeking revenge by throwing a brick through the window of their new car.

“Y/n, what are you doing?” Qasim whisper-scolded, looking around to see if anyone else had stumbled upon his 7 year old sister trying to damage their cousin’s car. “You know this is wrong!” He said as he pulled the brick out of your hand.

“Its only wrong if you get caught. No one’s around to watch!” You huffed.

“I caught you! Besides, even if no one is watching, God is!” He pointed up in the sky.

“So? Allah will forgive me. I’ll pray more, worship more often, fast, even use my pocket money to give to a charity!” You explained how you’d get off scot-free for all your sins.

Qasim smiled, pulling you away from the car. “Yes, Allah is Ar-Rahman- the Most Gracious, and Ar-Raheem- the Most Merciful. He would forgive you, but not the way you’re doing it, hm?” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, guiding you further away. “What you explained are acts of worship and yes, you’d be fulfilling your duty as a Muslim to God, but what about your other duty? Islam isn’t just about worshipping Allah, Y/n. Its half of your duty as a believer, but the other half is your duty to the humans around you. How you treat them, talk to them, your mannerisms. So even if you were to worship Allah, He wont forgive you for doing wrong to someone unless that person forgives you themselves first. Allah is very fair. If He has allowed you to feel hurt someone’s words, then He has also allowed other people to feel hurt too.”

Your shoulders slumped as your plans were foiled, knowing he was right. Qasim pecked your forehead, rubbing your shoulder to cheer you up. “Besides, this is no way for a Muslim to act. We should always try to be on our best behaviour, maintain composure and reflect. It’ll allow you to think more clearly.”

Maintain composure and reflect.

Letting out a sigh, you placed the glass back on the table before sitting down to rub your temples, trying to ease the ache that was forming.

Reflect.

Reflect.

Reflect-

You stood up as your eyes landed on Colin’s typewriter in the corner. Grabbing it, you made your way to the table and grabbed a stack of blank sheets and began typing away.

Hours later, you were leaving the house just before the guys returned from work but you stumbled into Benny on the street.

“Y/n? Where are you going?” He saw you hiding a few pages in your hand.

“I- um-” Concern flickered in his eyes as he came near you. “Tell me. I can help you.”

You weighted your options, contemplating whether it’d be good to trust Benny with this, despite letting him help you earlier.

Exhaling, you made the decision.

“I need to get to the printing press. Now.”

A flash of confusion appeared on his face before he nodded. “Okay.” Without any further questions, you two made your way towards the printing press as the sun went down.

-

After spending the entire night, printing hundreds of copies, you and Benny walked out of the printing press with stacks of papers. Walking down the streets of London in the cold winter, the sun just beginning to rise, Benny turned to you.

“Are you sure about this? Because once this is out there, there’s no going back.” He looked down at you, and judging by the determination in your eyes, he already knew the answer.

“Yes.” With a nod, Benny took half the stack while you had the other half.

“Alright. There are some paper boys that wait near the corner. Lets have these distributed.”

Henry walked into his office that day, finding it unexpectedly silent. For a moment, he thought the place was empty but when he spotted the employees gathered around a desk- your desk. Upon closer inspection, he noticed they were all surrounding Colin, who seemed to be engrossed reading a paper. Henry slowly pushed through the crowd and peeked over Colin’s shoulder, his eyes widening at the headline-

“The Ripper Strikes Again!

By S.H.H.”

S.H.H?

Henry snatched the paper, his eyes scanning the article his ex employee had written. It entailed the details from the first murder outside his club to the very latest that had taken place outside the FitzGeorge estate.

S.H.H.

It didn’t take much time for him to figure out that it was you who had written this piece and while a part of him was very furious at you for ruining his plans and image, he couldn’t bring himself to be mad at you because he knew you couldn’t have done this alone.

No, you didn’t have the money to print this, let alone distribute this throughout London.

This has Silas written all over it.

“Get back to work!” Henry yelled making the crowd scatter away. “Colin. My office, now.” He seethed before storming off.

“I swear, I don’t know who wrote that article. I just picked it up on the way-”

“Shut up.” Henry opened his drawer, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, a rare sight since he’s often seen smoking cigars. But cigars are for celebratory occasions. For now, he needed something to calm down his nerves before he combusted.

As soon as he had finished inhaling the first cigarette, he lit up another one, taking slower drags out of it this time. Colin could only watch in both shock and nervousness as Henry sat down on his chair and closed his eyes, rubbing his temples.

Finally, he opened his eyes and pulled out a file from the desk drawer, throwing it at the table for Colin. Colin stared at Henry in question, whose eyes were focused on the wall, deep in thought.

“You’re working on exposing horrible hospital environments, aren’t you?” Colin nodded. Henry took another drag before looking at him. “Here’s conclusive proof that would support your article. I want you to write it by the end of the day so it gets printed for tomorrow morning’s paper. Oh and Colin?”

“Yes, sir?”

“You will write what is in this file and you will not give me any excuses as to why you can’t, because if you don’t write it, I will find someone who will and I will make damn sure that you don’t get to work another day in your life as a journalist. You are replaceable.” Unlike your cross-dressing roommate. “Do I make myself clear?”

Colin gulped. “Yes, sir.” He stepped ahead to take the file, his heart racing as he saw the name on the file.

“Daisy FitzGeorge”

-

Silas sipped his scotch, his blurry vision a testament to how many drinks he’s had. Glass in one hand, the papers in the other, the only words visible to him were “DIVORCE”.

Divorce.

You were divorcing him. He doesn’t understand why… he’s upset? No, don’t be ridiculous. I’m not upset with something like this. I am merely… intrigued. Just slightly.

And why am I intrigued? I knew this marriage wasn’t going to last, I specifically told her that it wouldn’t? So why am I even wasting my time thinking about this when I have better things to do?

His eyes fell on the ring you had sent along with the papers. The wedding band. He set the papers down and picked it up, twirling it between his hands.

Did she divorce me because I yelled at her? Or did she already plan on leaving me?

He scoffed, standing up as he made his way to the window. Why would she leave me? I’m richer than her, I’m smarter than her, and if we’re being honest, I beat her in looks too. I am out of her league. Who the hell does she think she is?

I gave her everything. More than she deserved. Compensated her for everytime I had to use her for my plans. She had no reason to complain. She had no reason to leave me. She has no reason to leave me.

His eyes flickered to the snow covered garden.

She has no reason. Of course, a woman like her, would try to use me. She wants me to go after her, beg her to come back. The audacity!

He set his glass aside and pulled out a pen, his vision clearing as they focused on the documents.

You think you can trick me, huh? You want a divorce, Y/n? I’ll give-

“What the hell is that?” Silas whispered, gazing out the window and in the distance, just near the tree line, he saw a shadow, seemingly facing in his direction.

How long had it been standing there?

No. He’s way too still. The shadow doesn’t seem to be moving, breathing even. Silas’s drunk brain could only come up with two conclusions.

Either someone is trying to scare him (possibly Henry) by building this snowman or whatever, or someone is actually trying to break in (probably one of your several male friends).

And he planned on finding out who or what it was and taking his anger out on it.

He stormed off into the snow, with the divorce papers in hand, lest its you and he needs to shove them in your face.

-

Its been over a week since you wrote the article on the Ripper, which made news all around town, created enough buzz for major publications to start talking about them… including your last place of employment.

Henry of course, hadn’t taken so well to your details about the murders of his employees, so while his paper had mentioned a few paragraphs about the Ripper, they didnt mention anything about the victims being associated with Henry. And shockingly, the paper had instead used its front page to write about the “harrowing treatment at Aveline’s asylum” but it was really just an expose on Daisy FitzGeorge and how the FitzGeorge (and by association, the royal family) may have mental illnesses.

So… you understood why Silas had been silent this entire time. You understood why he hadn’t found the time to respond to your divorce papers. He’s probably dealing with Henry for what he made Colin write, and he might be dealing with keeping his reputation intact as well as being grilled by the queen. And with everything that had happened between you two, you knew it would be best if you never saw him again.

But… its been almost two weeks now, and you need to start working on your time machine again, for which you would need your little journal that you had so stupidly forgotten to take along with you when you left his house.

And so, here you were standing inside the FitzGeorge foyer at mid day (when you knew Silas would be away at work). In hindsight, you could’ve sent someone else, perhaps Benny in your place to fetch your journal, but you didnt want to risk him beating up Silas in case he had decided to take the day off.

The house seemed awfully quiet, more gloomy than usual, which you blamed the London winter for, but something was off.

Seeing that nobody was there to greet you, you decided to make your way towards the library, only for rushed steps to come your way.

“Mr Silas?” You spotted Cadbury coming from the corner, only for his concerned face turn hopeful as he ran towards you. “Oh Miss Y/n! Thank heavens, you’re here!”

“Cadbury, what’s going on?” You spotted the bags under his eyes.

The lines on his forehead deepened as he contemplated on how to break the news to you.

“Mr Silas… is missing!”

“What?”

“He hasn’t been home in over two weeks! I have looked everywhere for him! His workplace, bars, hospitals. But he’s nowhere to be found!”

You sigh. “Maybe he’s at a friend’s place. Or maybe he’s with his uncles or cousins.”

Cadbury shakes his head. “I checked! I contacted his friends, and I went to his uncles places without raising suspicion of him being missing, but he hasn’t seen any of them since the day he went missing.”

“And what day would that be?”

Cadbury’s voice died down. “The day… the day after you sent the divorce papers.”

A pit formed in your stomach. The day after I sent the divorce papers… that was the day the Ripper article was published. The news about his sister was also written that day, but it was printed out the next day. Which meant that Silas probably hadn’t read about Daisy, which then meant that if he lost his calm and snapped, it may have been due to the divorce papers you sent his way.

No. You assure yourself. He possibly couldn’t be affected by the divorce deed. He expected it- he demanded it. He assured you, he would give it to you before you two were even wed.

“You’re overthinking this, Cadbury. For all you know, he could be with his grandmother, wherever she is.” At your words, his face fell even more. “What is it?”

He gulped. “Miss Sarah fell ill when she left.”

Your eyes narrowed. “How ill?”

“Very. She’s bedridden now and doctors haven’t found a cause for it. She has been writing letters to Mr Silas, but since he’s been gone and I didnt want to cause her further distress, I… I have been writing to her under the guise as her grandson.”

You blinked at him. “What?!”

“Please, Miss Y/n. I didnt have any wrong intentions, I just didnt want Miss Sarah to worry herself in her condition.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. If Cadbury had been caught disguising himself as Silas, then Sarah wouldn’t still be writing back to him. Which means that Silas is… actually missing.

“Where did you see him last?” You asked him.

“In his study, when he was talking to Mr Blackwood. I gave him your um- divorce papers, and after Mr Blackwood left, he asked to be left alone. When I went to check on him the next day, he wasn’t in there. He wasn’t in the house!”

“Okay. Lets check the study first.” You both walked towards the study, your mind trying to think of where he could’ve gone.

Wait, Henry was here. He may have sad something to provoke Silas. Or maybe he blackmailed him? Perhaps, Silas has gone to run an errand for him?

No, it wouldn’t make sense for Silas to be doing favours to Henry, if the latter still went ahead and published his family’s secret.

Cadbury opened the study’s door and let you inside, the room was scattered all around.

“I left it as is.” Cadbury confessed as you looked around. “I didnt want to disturb his belongings. Mr Silas doesn’t appreciate it when anyone touches his things.”

Looking at the scene in front of you, it looked like he left in a hurry. His glass was still half full with the drink, and if you know anything about Silas, he never leaves his alcohol unfinished.

After an hour of searching the room for clues, all you could conclude was that he left in a hurry and with the divorce papers, since you couldn’t find them either.

He must’ve signed them and was coming to deliver them to me personally. Or perhaps threaten me.

“Do you know where he is, Miss Y/n?” Cadbury asked, worry etched on his face.

You sighed and shook your head defeatdly. “I don’t know, but I think its high time we report this to the police and his family.”

He immeadetly shook his head. “We cant do that! Mr Silas’s uncles will jump at the opportunity to take his assets and involving the police will make everyone know in high society-”

“What else do you want me to do, Cadbury?” You cut him off. “If you don’t want to report it, then dont. But the longer you keep this from the authorities, the more it’ll raise suspicions towards you. Just- you know what? Do whatever you want. I’m no longer a part of this family, and I’m no one to meddle in its affairs.” You tried to leave but Cadbury blocked your path.

“Technically ma’am, you still are a part of the family.”

“What?”

“The divorce deed… is nowhere to be found.”

“Yes. Because Silas has it.”

“It doesn’t mean he signed it.”

You blinked slowly. “What?”

He shrugged innocently. “I didn’t see him sign it, neither do I know if Mr Silas had any intentions of doing so. And you didn’t see him either.”

Your blood ran cold. “The papers are with Silas-”

“But we don’t know for sure if he signed it. You are still Mrs Silas FitzGeorge.”

You clenched your fists, trying to reel yourself in. “Stop playing games, Cadbury. You know Silas has the papers, you know he has signed them-”

“I do not know. As far as I’m concerned, you’re still happily married to Mr Silas.”

“Enough!” You walked unto him, staring him dead in the eye. “Silas has divorced me, he has the papers! And before you say that you didn’t see him sign it, I don’t think that argument will fly in court!”

“Court?” He raised a brow.

“Yes. Court. If I cant find the divorce papers, I will get a lawyer who will fight my case and have the judge accept the end of this relationship! And if this is some sick game that you thought would stop me from getting a divorce from Silas, if that is the very reason he has suddenly gone “missing”, let me assure you, I will fight tooth and nail and get my way!”

The butler maintained his composure, despite your menacing tone. “You can do as you want, ma’am. But if you are going to involve the court in this, then I must contact Mr Silas’s lawyer who has documents containing important information that you must see.”

By evening, the lawyer had come and you were not expecting the information he came baring.

With trembling hands, you scanned the pages, eyes widening with each word.

“I, Silas (Edmund) FitzGeorge, hereinafter referred to as “the husband”, being of sound mind and body, declare this to be my Last Will and Testament, and I hereby revoke all previous wills and codicils. I am married to Y/n L/n, hereinafter referred to as "my wife," and I have full confidence in her and wish to provide for her after my passing.

Y/n and I are married under the laws of Islam and the British crown, and both parties have expressed mutual interest in ensuring that their marital relationship endures regardless of any future physical separation, and
The Husband wishes to secure the continuity of his marital bond with The Wife under extraordinary circumstances, and
WHEREAS, The Wife, understanding the gravity of this arrangement, agrees to the terms outlined below,
NOW, THEREFORE, in consideration of the mutual promises, covenants, and obligations set forth herein, the parties agree as follows:

ARTICLE I: CONDITIONAL MARRIAGE BOND

Condition of Divorce:
Notwithstanding any future legal proceedings or claims for dissolution of marriage, The Wife shall not be permitted to divorce The Husband unless one of the following conditions occurs:
a. The Husband’s Death: In the event that The Husband is declared legally deceased by a competent authority or court, and his remains have been conclusively identified by appropriate authorities, or
b. The Wife Locates and Identifies The Husband’s Remains: Should The Husband go missing or be presumed dead, The Wife may pursue divorce only if she personally discovers, identifies, and confirms The Husband’s remains. This confirmation must be made through formal identification methods accepted under the laws of British empire, and shall be accompanied by appropriate documentation (e.g., medical or forensic certification of death).

No Divorce Without Finding Remains:
In the event of The Husband’s disappearance under circumstances where his remains are not conclusively located, The Wife shall not initiate any legal action to dissolve the marriage until The Wife has personally located his remains and has provided the court with satisfactory proof of the remains' discovery.

Duration of the Agreement:
This Agreement shall remain in effect as long as The Husband's remains have not been conclusively found. Should The Husband be found alive or if his remains are discovered, the terms of this Agreement shall automatically expire, and The Wife may pursue divorce proceedings under applicable laws.

ARTICLE II: TERMINATION OF AGREEMENT UPON FOUND REMAINS

Disappearance:
If The Husband disappears under circumstances where there is no conclusive proof of death, The Wife shall maintain all legal rights to pursue a divorce as if The Husband were alive, but only after making a reasonable effort to locate his remains through all available means.

Notification of Discovery:
In the event that The Wife discovers The Husband’s remains, she must notify The Husband’s designated legal representative, within 14 days of the discovery. Upon receipt of this notice, The Husband’s legal representative shall confirm the identification of the remains and provide written notice to both parties.

ARTICLE III: CONSEQUENCES OF BREACH OF AGREEMENT

Breach by The Husband:
If The Husband is found to be in breach of this Agreement (e.g., by acting in a manner that leads to fraudulent claims of death, or failing to comply with identification procedures), The Wife may petition for divorce under the laws, irrespective of the condition precedent regarding finding remains.

Breach by The Wife:
If The Wife attempts to initiate divorce proceedings without satisfying the conditions set forth in this Agreement, The Husband shall have the right to petition the courts to invalidate any such divorce attempt, and may seek damages for breach of contract as provided by the law.

ARTICLE IV: MUTUAL UNDERSTANDING AND ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Mutual Consent:
Both parties acknowledge that this Agreement has been entered into freely and voluntarily, and that each understands the extraordinary nature of the conditions set forth herein. The Wife acknowledges the serious implications of this contract and agrees to abide by its terms unless the conditions of divorce are satisfied.

EXECUTION

IN WITNESS WHEREOF, the parties have executed this Agreement on the day and year first above written.

[Husband's Full Name]
Silas Edmund FitzGeorge

[Wife's Full Name]
Y/n L/n

Witnesses:
Cadbury Hawthorne
Colin (surname)

“You and Mr Colin signed these documents the night you had your Nikkah with Mr Silas.” Cadbury quietly said, answering you question as to when you had signed a bullshit contract like this.

Silas fucking tricked me. He took advantage of me, put me on the spot and had everything so rushed that I didn’t even have the time to read the documents I signed.

“This is trickery. I didn’t agree to any of this-”

“That argument will not fly in court, ma’am. Your inability to have read through the papers you signed out of your own volition, still means that you did signed and agreed to the terms.” The lawyer explained.

You stared at him. “So what? You’re telling me that I cant divorce Silas, that no court will grant me a divorce from him unless I find his body?!”

“Its not necessary you find his remains. If he’s still alive, you can still get the divorce.” The lawyer answered, ignoring the angry vein on your temple. “Even if you don’t find him, you still are the sole inheritor of all of Mr Silas’s assets. I think thats a pretty sweet deal.”

“I dont want his stupid assets! I want the fucking divorce!”

The lawyer closed his brief case. “Then I suggest you find Mr Silas, ma’am.”

-

The first few days at the manor had been hard for you. Refusing to trust Cadbury, given his history as being Silas right hand and well, you still suspected him of drugging your tea, you fought with him. Well it was more like you yelling and throwing things at him, and he just calmly reassured you over and over again that he was and will be for the foreseeable future- loyal to you, while dodging the fine china plate you frisbeed at his head.

When you finally came around to the idea that Silas may actually be missing and this is not some ruse, that he might be in real danger, your first thought was to contact his family. But Cadbury strongly advised you against it, saying that even if you were to only inform Sarah, she would eventually reach out to her sons to help find Silas, which is a bad idea because according to Cadbury, they would jump at his inheritance which Silas left all to you and to acquire it, they will stop at nothing. Even if they have to do something less than savoury to you.

“So you’re staying back at the estate because you need to find Silas, dead or alive, in order to get a divorce from him?” Benny asked. He came here after he found you moving back to the manor.

“Yes. I signed a document saying so. And I think that if I were to stay here, I’d be able to find more clues to his whereabouts.”

“Cant you just get a dead body?”

“Ok, first of all, where would I get a random dead body that looks like Silas? Secondly, no. The authorities need to actually verify that I bring Silas’s remains, not some random guy’s. And since Silas is part of royalty and not a nobody, its almost next to impossible for me to fool anyone.”

Benny dragged his palms over his face. “Why does it even matter that you’re not a divorced? You can just come back and live with us!”

“It does matter because I am married to a FitzGeorge, and I am the duchess of Westminster, and because if I need to marry again, I cant without divorce from my last husband!” You explained. Part of the reason you’re staying at Silas’s manor is because you want to find clues to where he is, but also because with the house entirely to yourself, you can peacefully build your time machine.

“So how do you plan on finding Silas?”

“Well, first I have to determine if he’s actually gone missing or if he’s just hiding away-”

“Why would he hide?”

“I dont know, to avoid confrontation? Maybe he thinks that I’ll come for his money, which I don’t think is the case since he has given it to me now anyways.” You rubbed your chin. “Perhaps he has enemies? His life is in danger and he decided to vanish, while also keeping me bound to him just to have the last laugh.”

Benny chuckled at your suggestion. “Okay, so how will you determine if he’s missing or hiding?”

“I plan on drawing him out.” You replied. “Force him out of his hiding place.” Which isn’t as easy as it sounds because one thing is for sure, Silas is very resilient.

Cadbury walked in with tea. “Is it done?” You asked the butler who nodded. “Yes, ma’am. It should be ready for operations in a week.”

Benny looked confused. “Whats done, Y/n?”

You took your teacup from Cadbury, hiding your smile. “You’ll see. Oh and tell Colin to see me when he can.”

-

Colin stood outside the building you’d given him the address to.

“The London Post” He read the name on the board, which looked like it was newly installed.

He walked inside, where a receptionist greeted him and lead him to an office upstairs. On his way, he saw a bullpit full of desks with employees working in full swing. Looking at the dozens of typewriters only further confirmed his suspicions that this was a newspaper agency. But what he didn’t understand was why you had sent him here.

Was it to write an article for this paper? Or did they want to interview him for his latest expose he was forced to write on Daisy FitzGeorge?

The receptionist knocked on the office door before someone inside gave permission to enter. Swinging the door open, Colin was just able to catch the glimpse of the brass plaque on the door.

“Y/n FitzGeorge, CEO”

You were sitting in behind your mahogany desk in your plush leather chair, smiling as you greeted Colin.

“What is all this?” Colin asked, sitting down from across you.

“Dont you like my new workplace?” You asked, setting aside whatever paper you were working on. “I bought the building to start a new paper. The London Post! Has a nice ring to it, hm?”

“It does. But… why exactly did you start a newspaper company?”

Because I plan on drawing out Silas by using his money lavishly and while the first idea that came to mind was to burn it in a bornfire, another idea came to mind.

Why not use the money to ruffle some feathers as well?

Henry was going to be a problem for you longterm, you knew that for sure. So while you and Benny may have been able to get away with writing something against him one time, you doubt you’d be so lucky again.

But you cant say that to Colin without sounding like a complete lunatic.

“Because I want to write freely. I want to write the truth without some rich dirtbag trying to brush it under the rug because it interferes with his business.” Colin was impressed.

“That is… excellent. You will make a lot of people unhappy with this, but I suppose you don’t care about it.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “The truth needs to be out there. People should be able to acquire knowledge and decide for themselves what they should do with it.”

“Admirable. And I suppose you wont have to dress up as a man again. Perks of being the boss, hm?” He commented, making you laugh.

“I didn’t just invite you here to show off, Colin.” You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your desk. “I want you to work here.”

“What?”

“You can write your articles on the horrid healthcare system and you’d have your own team to help you in investigations. I’ll back you up, all the way. Whatever you need-”

“Ok.”

“Hm?”

“Ok. I accept your job offer.” Colin stood up, shaking your head. He didn’t need to be convinced much to leave Henry Blackwood.

In the evening, you failed to notice a pair of eyes stalking your form as you got in your carriage and went home.

“I seriously need to hire better security. They cant just let anyone in.” You grumbled as soon as you spotted him lounging in the parlour.

“Oh please. Like that would stop me.” Henry smirked, making himself as he poured himself a drink. “I thought you’d be happy to see me after so long, kitten.”

“So all it takes is one sip of alcohol for you to start deluding?” You rolled your eyes, giving your coat to the maid as you walked inside the room. “What do you want, Henry?”

“Just some answers, kitten.” He smiled, though it wasn’t a genuine. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“The London Post.” “Ah. The newspaper. Its a nice name, hm?”

“Y/n.” He warned.

“Henry.” You mocked back. “What is it of any concern to you?”

“Is this your big plan to get back at me? The moment I propose to a soon-to-be-divorcee, you go running back in the arms of Silas? If money was all it took, need I remind you- I have plenty more than Silas?”

Great. He just called me a gold-digger in my own house.

“First of all, I doubt that any amount of your blood-stained money will ever compare to Silas’s generational wealth. Its about class, something you wouldn’t know about.” You ran a hand through your hair. “As for why I’m back with Silas, well why don’t you see it this way? The mere idea of being with you repelled me so much that it drove me into the arms of another man.”

“And where is this other man?”

“Perhaps he was also repelled by you.” Henry crossed his arms over his chest. “Is that so? Huh. So he’s been hiding away weeks before I actually came.”

Your eyes narrowed. How does he-?

“Ah ah. I saw that look.” He snapped his fingers, sauntering over to you. “What? You really didn’t think I’d find out that he’s been missing for what? A month now?” You kept your mouth shut as he gloated. “Not a bird flutters its wing here and I am not aware. I know everything, kitten.”

Either he’s bluffing, or he’s the reason why Silas is missing. “Silas isn’t missing. He’s away on business.”

“Dont lie, love. I know the truth. Besides, what I cant figure out is why you’re back here after that nasty fight with him? I mean, the last time I saw Silas, you had sent the divorce papers yourself.”

Did you see him sign them? Is what you wanted to ask. Instead, you feigned innocense. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I agree that I did take time apart after our… marital discourse, but thats normal. Lovers fight, not that you’d know. I imagine most women in your life are threatened into a relationship with you.”

He smirked. “You think about me with other women? Is my kitten jealous?” Your unamused face made him chuckle. “I just came here to congratulate you on starting your new business. Hope it doesnt burn down before it makes a real mark.”

“Is that a threat?” “Did it sound like a compliment?” You scowled, and he smirked. “My kitten has a tendency to go a little crazy and scratch others. I’d hate to be the one to have to tame you, although-”

“Get the hell out of my house!”

Henry cackled, enjoying getting under your skin. He got ready to leave, glancing at you one last time.

“You don’t belong from this world, kitten. Stop meddling with my business before you get hurt, hm?”

As days went by, the Ripper began his killing spree again. More victims came to light, most of them were people who were out and about well after midnight, but there were some cases where the victims were… just normal people. The London Post had a dedicated team working on reporting this case audit was garnering more attention. You might even dare to say… that it was more popular than Henry’s now.

Benny would swing by your office whenever he could, usually with snacks and make lighthearted conversation. You knew what he was doing though- he was checking up on you. And really, you don’t blame him. After breaking down in front of him, to sending divorce papers to Silas, to quitting your job and writing an article that damages your ex-employer’s repute, to then moving back to living at your “missing” husband’s home (who you cant divorce until you find his remains) and then starting a whole new company, who wouldn’t want to check how someone like that is doing mentally?

Its sweet really, it really is. Which is why its so hard for you to look at him as a potential killer. It doesnt help all the lies he’s told you, not to mention his relationship with the shady cross-dresser who practically threatened you to not bother Henry.

I really, really hope you’re just a closeted gay Benny.

You woke up to the sound of yelling. Looking at the clock, the needles pointed to 11 pm. You got out of bed, wrapping your night robe around yourself before leaving the room. Following the clamour, you found yourself on the top of the staircase and saw the source of noise standing in the lobby down.

It was Silas’s uncles, William and Adolphus . The two men were yelling at Cadbury, the poor butler trying to shush them and prevent them from passing past him.

“As I said sir-! Mrs Silas is asleep at the moment and I cannot allow you to enter Mr Silas’s study without her permission.”

“You have no right to stop us! And I don’t need that wench’s permission to enter wherever I please!” William, the eldest FitzGeorge shouted.

“Actually, you do.” You finally spoke up, shutting them all up. You gracefully descended the stairs, eyes narrowing down at them. “As it happens, I am the co-owner of this house.”

“I’m sorry ma’am, I tried to stop them-”

“Its alright, Cadbury.” You turned your attention back to the two men who were looking down at you. “Now that you have disturbed me from my sleep, what seems to be the problem?”

“Your stupid servant is stopping us from going to Silas’s study-”

“He’s a butler, and you will give him the due respect or you can march yourself out of here. Now.” Your words made the room silent again, and one could cut the tension with a knife.

Adolphus, the middle child of Sarah, seemed to be the one with more sense. “You’re right. But as it happens, we are in a bit of rush and we need to go to the study.”

“Why?”

“There are some papers there.” Adolphus stated, mistaking that this would be enough to satisfy you.

“So?” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“So? So we need to get them.”

“Why? Whats so important about them?”

Adolphus looked at you, then at his brother who had an angry being popping on his head, then back at you. “Silas… has granted us some money. We need those papers to access that money.”

“Ah. That is important.” You hummed, and the uncles took this as a sign for them to go and retrieve them. “Halt, now.”

“What?” William seethed.

You sighed dramatically. “Now I understand the pickle you’re in, but as it happens, Silas has absolutely forbidden anyone from entering his study without his permission and since Silas hasn’t told me beforehand about letting his uncles in, I’m afraid I cant let you go there. He’s weirdly territorial about it.”

“Then where is Silas?” William barked.

“I dont know. As a good wife, I don’t keep tabs on where my husband goes, when he’ll be back or stick my nose in his business.” You smiled charmingly, knowing these chauvinistic jerks will eat this lie up.

“Look, we’re his family. We wouldn’t betray our own.” Adolphus tried to reason with you.

You shrugged. “Orders are orders, uncle. I’m just an obedient wife, listening to my husband because I’d just be a fool not to!” Your voice drips with honey.

William glared at you, and was ready to bark an insult when you beat him to it.

“Cadbury, please show our guests the way out. Don’t hesitate to use more help if needed.” You leave before they could get another word in.

When Cadbury returns, you’re sitting in Silas’s study, holding the file that the uncles wanted. However, it didn’t say anything about any money being set aside for them. It was just Silas reiterating that you were his sole inheritor of everything.

“Ah thank goodness you didn’t let them in, ma’am.” Cadbury breathed a sigh of relief. You hummed, looking at the document again before setting it aside. You have a gut feeling that if they were to find out that Silas has left everything to you, they would not be happy.

“Did you tell them that Silas has been missing?” Cadbury shook his head. “No ma’am.”

“Then how did they know he wasnt home?”

It is possible that word got out via the house staff that he hasn’t been home in a while. Or that someone from the outside is spreading the news. Perhaps a business partner? An enemy? Maybe his uncles have a hand in his disappearance. Or it is entirely possible that Silas is behind this and is using his uncles to put me under pressure?

Whoever it is, its high time to put an end to all of this. Silas needs to be found out.

“Prepare my carriage for tomorrow. I’ll be leaving to see Silas’s grandma.”

-

You sensed something was gravely wrong the next day you saw Cadbury.

The butler held a letter in his trembling hands, his face pale as he read with wide eyes.

“Mrs- Mrs Fairbrother is- is dead.”

What?

You grabbed the letter from his hands, reading the details of how Sarah passed away yesterday in her sleep. It was sent by her housekeeper, who said that Mrs Fairbrother wanted to be buried in London and her funeral arrangements done by you.

Two days later, you were standing in Silas’s study, looking out the window at the funeral service arranged. Despite the large amount of attendees, everything went smoothly. Cadbury made sure of that, he basically handled all the things on your behalf.

Perhaps he knew you’d need your energy for something else soon.

You’d met with the people only briefly, accepting their condolences before you went back to hiding in the study. Sarah was buried in the family cemetery, next to her husband and near her granddaughter, Daisy. You didn’t go to the gravesite yourself, it only reminded you of Qasim. You don’t think you could ever handle going through that ordeal again.

Not to mention the big elephant in the room that you have to address.

Silas is not here.

You may not know much about him but you know for a fact how much he loved his grandmother and the fact that he’s not here means that he… he might actually have gone missing. And not by his own will.

Is he missing or is he dea-?

Cadbury entered the study with a knock, a cup of tea in his hand.

“Thank you.” You take the cup from him. He smiled, understanding your gratefulness for letting him deal with the funeral.

“I just wanted to give you a heads up, ma’am. Mr William and Mr Adolphus are waiting in the parlour downstairs with the will executor. He says its important for all family members to be there.”

“I understand.” You sigh before standing up. You walked into the parlour where the uncles were drinking

“Look who decided to finally join us.” William sneered.

“I want to say its nice to see you again but I don’t want to insult the dead by lying.” You turn your attention back to the executor. “Please lets get this done with already.”

“It wont take too long, miss.” The executor says before opening the envelope. “The will states “I am grateful to all who attended my funeral. I knew my time was coming soon, which is why I left London a month ago. It was my dream to see my beloved Silas get married and what a fine lady he chose for this family. He took care of me, as did Y/n when she became a part of our lives. Which is why I Sarah Fairbrother FitzGeorge, in sound mind and with no pressure from anyone, am leaving all of my wealth to Silas and Y/n. For my other grandsons, I leave a trust fund that they will acquire if they get into Oxford college like Silas did. The trust fund will be distributed to reputable charities if they don’t make it to college.

For my sons, William and Adolphus, I leave only this-

I know what you did. I was made aware of it in my final days and I am ashamed to call you my sons. Which is why you are both removed from my will and are not entitled to a single pound from the inheritance. If I could, I would strip you off the respectable FitzGeorge surname. Shame on you.” The executor folds the paper back. “That concludes the will, now if you could all just sign here-”

“I am not signing this bullshit!” William threw the glass on the floor, the crystal shattering everywhere. “This is complete bullshit! How the fuck does she not leave anything to me?! To her own sons?!”

The executor narrowed his eyes. “I understand this can be difficult to digest-”

“Mother must’ve been delirious. That explains it. Women experience hysteria on the daily now, its very common now a days. Why else would she leave nothing to her owns sons, and everything to Silas, who did not even bother to attend the funeral!” Adolphus spoke up.

“I assure you, sir, your mother was not delirious. She was not a mad woman when she executed her will. I was there, with two other witnesses.”

“So what? We get nothing and Silas and his bedwarmer get everything?!” William yells, glaring at you. “Where the fuck is Silas?! He cant get a single penny of this will unless he’s here!”

“I-” Your voice died down in your throat. What do I say? How long can I avoid this question?

“What?” Adolphus questioned but William walked to the executor. “Did you hear that? He’s not here which means he doesn’t get the bloody inheritance! And neither does she!”

“Actually, Miss Y/n is entitled to all of the inheritance as Mrs Sarah stated in the will.” A voice interrupted. You looked at the doorway where Cadbury was walking in with Silas’s lawyer.

“This is a private matter. You need to leave.” Adolphus stated, not liking the intrusion.

“I’m Mr Silas’s lawyer and he’s allowed me to be in matters in his place.” He set down his briefcase and pulled out some documents. “Mr Silas has already given all of his inheritance to Miss Y/n and anything that Mrs Sarah has left for him, will also be going to Miss Y/n.

-

The Ripper has Silas.

He’s made that much clear to you over the last two weeks via all the letters and cryptic messages he’d sent you, which you didn’t take seriously at first because for all you could know, this could be just a prank or from Silas enemies to scare you.

Then came the present.

It was a small box with a red bow on it, left on the windowsill of your room. When you opened it, your blood ran cold at the contents inside.

It was a ring. The wedding band.

The day you married Silas, his grandmother gave you her late husband’s ring to give to Silas. It was a family heirloom and it was his grandfather’s. Losing it, it’s not something Silas would risk just to trouble you.

He was in serious danger. Especially if the Ripper is the one who has him.

You wanted to go to the cops, but knowing how they never actually came close to catching the killer, you decide to go to someone more powerful.

The Queen.

Now I know she may not have MI5, but surely she’d have contacts and perhaps some secret agents who’d do a much better job of finding her royal relative.

“The queen is busy and cannot see anyone at the moment.” The royal servant told you at the front door. That’s as far as they’d allowed you to enter.

“I don’t think you understand. My husband, a royal member of the family has gone missing and possibly been abducted by the Ripper-!”

“I don’t think you understand, miss.” He cut you off. “The queen is simply too busy to entertain any civilians or their lost men.”

“He’s not a civilian! Silas FitzGeorge-”

“Is not recognised by the royal family. Please refrain yourself from associating that name with the prestigious royal household.”

You looked at him dumbfounded. Is he- did the queen really just cut Silas out of the family?

“Then as a civilian, I am begging you to let me see the queen. I want to find my husband and only she can help me.”

“The queen has far more important engagements at the moment.”

Clenching your fists to stop yourself from swinging at him and running inside the palace, you asked him. “Does she hate Silas that much that she didn’t attend Sarah’s funeral? Or did she loathe Sarah that much that she refuses to help find Silas?”

“Let me show you the exit-”

You swiftly turned and left, your body ready to combust from anger.

How can anyone do that? Just refuse to help a family member? You’re no stranger to enemies-in-family, but still- she adored Silas enough to reintroduce him as a part of her family just months ago. Did she really just hate him for marrying me, or as Silas showed the world- “married for love”.

How can you just turn your back on family?

You stormed into your office, breathing heavily. Fine then. If she won’t let me see her, I’ll make her come to me.

“COLIN!” He came into your office alarmed. “I need you to allocate 5 of the best writers on a new project. Give them whatever they need, no expenses spared.”

“What’s the project?”

“The royal family.”

“What?”

“Every crime they’ve committed, every scandal they’ve been involved in, every time they’ve so much as swatted a fly! I want it all reported and published.” Colin’s eyes widened at your words.

“Y/n it’s not wise-“

“Colin, I’m not in need of wisdom. I know what I’m doing, I know the risks I’m taking, so spare me the advice and do what I’m asking you to do. Please.” You rubbed your temples.

He gave a nod. “Very well.”

“Oh and Colin?” “Yes?”

“Please send the team working on the Ripper to me. And if you could, please send for the coppers.”

“Why?” Colin asked, testing his luck.

“Silas has been taken by the Ripper. And I have letters from him.”

-

The next few weeks were very busy, with police officers interrogating you about Silas and the Ripper to representatives coming from the royal family to stop you from slandering them, which besides being satisfying to your ego, was also good for business as people loved to watch “the rich get torn apart a new one”.

But you didn’t have the time to enjoy that when you had a literal serial killer murdering people left and right with notes attached, always written to you. Well, not exactly to you- he’s kind enough to just praise your paper for getting details right about him, and only rarely adding in corrections about how he murdered someone,

You had asked him to return Silas in one of the articles your paper published, pleading him to send “the love of my life” back.

The psycho slashed a smile on the next victim’s stomach, with the words “GOOD JOKE!” written in blood on the walls.

To deal with all that, you had decided to cross out one item off your list-

Get rid of the portrait.

The moment you returned home from the crime scene and spotted the painting that was glaring down at you, you had it pulled off the wall of the staircase and set out in the gardens.

“Having a bonfire, are we?” Henry spoke from behind you, rubbing his hands as he saw you standing alone in front of the large fire pit you’d started.

Watching the last bit of the paper turn to ash, put your mind at ease. “Care to join?” You asked.

Henry’s lips quirked up. “Oh I’d love to be by your side-“

“I meant the fire. Care to jump in?” You didn’t move your eyes from the fire.

He pouted. “Oh kitten, if you want me to keep you warm, I know far better ways-“

“I’d rather you push me into the fire.” Your monotonous tone makes him chuckle. “I can’t do that. I’d lose the most popular person in Britain then!”

“Popular?” “No need to be humble, love. You’re both the most hated and most loved woman in all of England right now! People just loathe the way you’re tearing down the monarchy and yet they can’t help but adore your fake tears for your missing husband.”

“They’re not fake.” You whisper. “I do miss Silas, and I do want him back.”

“I need him.” To finalise the stupid divorce. “But no matter how hard I try, I can’t find him.”

Henry stared at you, an unsavoury emotion swirling in his eyes though he managed to keep his expression neutral.

“You don’t need Silas. You think you do, but the human body is capable of surviving with way less than the bare minimum.” He looks ahead with you at the dancing flames. “All you have to do is leave this place and go home.”

“It’s not that simple.” Shaking your head, you answer him. “I can’t just up and leave him, not when I know he’s in danger, when he’s being held hostage and I can do something about it.” You finally turn to him, finding him staring at you already. “Which is why I sent for you today.”

He raised a brow. “You want me to find Silas.” He said in an unamused voice.

“Please.”

“I may be fond of you, kitten but don’t you think it’s harsh and frankly, unreasonable to expect your admirer to find a man for you?” He chuckled, roaming his eyes anywhere to conceal his jealousy.

“I’m desperate-” “Clearly.” He scoffed.

You took a deep breath. “If you find Silas, I’ll leave him.”

Henry’s head turned to you. “I’ll leave Silas, I’ll divorce him. I’ll leave London for good.”

He looked at you for a moment before sighing. “I’ll hold you to that promise.”

Your shoulders relaxed. “So you’ll find him? Good, I can go and deal with the monarchs-“

He grabbed your shoulder. “Not so fast, kitten. First, you’re going to attend a party with me.”

“Why?”

“I’d like to have the most popular lady on my arm for a night.” He grinned, making you roll your eyes. “Besides, I think you’d enjoy seeing a few familiar faces there, for your paper, hm?”

-

You were standing inside the Gentleman’s club, waiting for Henry to receive you. It was a grand party, they usually are around here but everything seemed to be grander this time around.

Two weeks ago, when you were given an invitation to the club, Henry had asked you to stop publishing anything regarding the Ripper, as to stop giving him the attention he seemed to thrived on and make him slip up in an attempt to regain his popularity back. So, you ignored the letters you got from the killer, reading them but never responding.

There was a large guest list but no masquerade this time, except for the workers who were responsible for “entertainment”, they wore masks.

You saw many of high society there, including the sleazebag Charles Dickens. He never seemed to issue the opportunity to be present anywhere debauchery is popular.

“You look ravishing, love.” Henry’s husky voice reached you before you felt his arm on your waist. You frowned at his closeness but decided to put up with it for the night, after all you did agree to be “arm candy” for the night.

“Aw, are you afraid someone might see you being so cozy with the most handsome bachelor in London?” His earthy cologne filled your lungs, and you hoped by the end of the night, you don’t end up smelling like him.

“Most handsome bachelor? So you have found Silas?” You feigned innocence but he didn’t seem fazed by the insult, in fact pulling you closer to him. “You’re looking just too gorgeous tonight for me to admonish you, but who knows? Maybe we can arrange some type of punishment to put you in your place later tonight.”

You smile seductively at him, putting a hand on his chest. “Not if I punish you first.” You drag a nail over his chest bluntly, making a mischievous glint appear in his eyes.

“Yeah? What do you have in mind, baby?”

You giggle sweetly, batting your lashes up at him.

“How does getting whacked by a cactus sound?”

“Exciting!” He gave you a huge grin. “Pain is pleasure, kitten. And I’ll make sure you learn to love everything I give you.”

You push him away, rolling your eyes as he chuckled. “Pervert…”

“I jest, milady. Come now, let’s greet our guests.” He takes your hand and pulls you along.

“Our guests?” He nods. “You are my date for the night, so you’re going to be hosting these guests with me. I think you’ll find some very interesting people here.”

“Yeah? Like who?”

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, nodding ahead. “See that man with the beard? That’s Mr Bell. He’s currently working on a device that’ll make it possible to communicate from distance.”

Bell… as in-

“Alexander Graham Bell?!” You harshly whispered.

He quirked a brow. “A fan, are we? Didn’t know you’ve also been following his work.” Only since elementary school science class!

Henry then nodded at another guy in the corner. “See that young fellow in the corner, surrounded by women? Yes, that’s Louis Pasteur. Odd fellow, always going on about invisible germs and what not, but I know a genius when I see one. That’s why I invested in him, even if I don’t fully understand what he’s working on, I know he’ll worth something someday. I wouldn’t get too close to him, he smells like spoiled milk often.”

He then waved at two ladies sitting on a sofa, surrounded by men and women- entertaining them. “Enjoying yourself girls?” They smiled at him with flushed faces, as you turned away in horror.

“That’s Dr Elizabeth Anderson, first female to qualify as a doctor in Britain. The young gal next to her is nurse Florence Nightingale. Sweet girl.” Henry introduced you and never in a million years did you imagine meeting your scientific heroes in a place like this.

“What- what are they doing here?” “What do people do at a party? Enjoy.” “I meant, what are they doing here in this disgusting place-“

“Excuse you, but my club prides itself in maintaining its hygiene better than most hospitals here.” He grabbed a glass of champagne from the waiter passing by. “They’re here because I want them here. Every guest here tonight, I have granted them favours and now, they’re forever indebted to me.”

“Why do you want them here tonight?”

He sipped his drink. “Let’s just say, they’re here to make someone feel comfortable tonight.”

You frowned. “I don’t feel comfortable.” Henry laughed. “Oh, I love you darling, but tonight, we have a more important guest than you. Come now, they should be coming soon and I’d hate for you to miss their entry.”

He took you along with him up the staircase, standing over the railing as you looked down at the main floor, a clear view of everyone.

“Henry.” He was leaning over the railing, his shoulders looking even more broad as he rested his arms against the bannister. “Did you find anything?”

He understood what you were referring to. “I found a lot of things, it’s all in my office, but nothing that tipped off to Silas’s whereabouts.”

“What about the Ripper’s whereabouts?”

“I’m focusing on finding Silas. Not a deranged killer.” “Henry-“ he narrowed his eyes at you. “How are you so sure that he took Silas? For all you know, Silas could be hiding because he cheated on you or something.”

“He sent me the ring.” “So what? He could’ve just-”

“No!” You snapped, making him narrow his eyes at you. “He wouldn’t have just given up the ring for petty revenge or to make my life difficult. He wouldn’t- you don’t know him like I do. The ring is very important to him, he wouldn’t give it up without a fight.”

Henry was ready to say something, probably argue more, but right then, a commotion started on the ballroom floor.

All the guests had started to look towards the entrance, where some men stood. There were hushed whispers of disbelief, people looking around to make sure that someone else was also seeing at what they were.

The chief guest had arrived. And as they appeared from the shadows and into the center, your breath hitched with almost everyone there.

It was Prince Edward VII, Queen Victoria’s son and successor.

What the hell is he doing here?

You turned to ask Henry, only to see him walking down the stairs to greet the prince. Why did Henry invite the prince to the club? What evil plan did he have in mind? Or did he do this for you, so that you’d write about royalty being associated with such perversity?

You turned away from the bannister and looked around for Henry’s office.

After a few minutes of walking in on people making out, you finally found the office. Stepping in, you spotted a file on his desk and as you suspected, it had everything on Silas’s life, including how Daisy ended up in the asylum. Apparently one day, uncle William had called her over to his estate to discuss an important family matter.

She never returned. It’s reported that the following morning, William and Adolphus had her admitted to the asylum because she was “acting odd” and was “delusional”.

The file also details that while it was rare, Silas was able to visit Daisy a few times there whenever he got time off from boarding school. Unfortunately, in less than a year in the asylum, Daisy had taken her own life.

You close the file, setting it back on the desk before moving towards the other side and sitting in Henry’s chair.

Might as well go through his stuff if I’m snooping.

You open the single drawer and it has a small box containing a few cigars and some papers. You close it and are about to make your way outside when you hear footsteps coming towards the room. You look around for shelter before ducking under the mahogany desk, just as the door opens.

“Why haven’t you been responding to my letters?” You heard Benjamin’s voice. “Why did you make the guards turn me away whenever I came here?”

You heard the sound of glass clinking and a drink being poured. “And yet here you are. Take a hint, Benny boy.” You recognised Lady Scarlett’s voice.

“Scarlett” you heard strain in his voice. “I just- I don’t understand. What are Henry’s intentions with Y/n?”

“What do you care?” The annoyance was evident in Scarlet’s voice. “You love her or something?”

There were a few seconds of silence. “She’s a friend.”

Scarlet’s heels clicked as he walked to the corner of the room to pour herself another drink. “She’s been taken care of.” “What do you mean?” “She won’t be meddling with our business again, I had a talk with her. She won’t be coming back here. And if she does… well, I’m afraid your friendship won’t save her.”

“Scarlett-” “Do the job you’ve been given, Benny. Find out who’s been going after Henry’s business. We lost another two guards that were sent to keep an eye on Y/n.”

What?

A few seconds later, you heard them walk out of the office. Sighing in relief, you stand up to leave from your hiding spot but hit your head on the mahogany desk. You groaned, clutching your head as the drawer slides out slightly from your head bump, and that’s when you spot it.

A secret compartment on the side of the drawer!

It had a small lock on it, which was easy to open with a bobby pin. The small wooden door unlocked and without missing a beat, you opened it.

Nothing could’ve prepared you for what was in there.

“No- how…?” You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the object, from-

The Time Machine.

My Time Machine!

Thud.

You jumped at the sound. It came from the window. You didn’t move from your spot, either waiting for the source to reveal or perhaps you were too stunned to move.

A few seconds later, it happened again. Only this time, a rock burst through the window, shattering the glass everywhere. You stayed on the ground before creeping towards the windowsill to find the source, and there he was- standing alone in the dark alleyway, his figure illuminated just enough to give him away.

The Ripper.

You couldn’t make out his face due to the dark alley, but it was clear he was looking at you.

Your heart almost leapt out of your throat when he waved at you.

What the fuck?

Locked in a trance, you couldn’t move from the window. You know you should’ve ducked, should’ve moved out of sight but it was like you knew if you looked away, if you so much as blinked he’d-

“Y/N!”

You’re yanked away from the window, face colliding into Benjamin’s chest. “There’s a fire! We need to leave!” You looked back towards the window.

He’s gone.

“Come on!” Ben dragged you out the door by your arm and that’s when you were hit in the face by the intense heat.

The once fancy club was now set aflame. Flames licked their way up the walls, devouring the silken tapestries and velvet curtains. The air was now thick with smoke. People were screaming and trampling all over each other to get out, their masks discarded as their faces were painted with horror. Your heart dropped at the panic of it all.

You’re lucky Ben was there, because while you were frozen up, he took charge and pulled you out of the club, pushing through the doors as people poured out on to the freezing London streets.

Ben was putting his coat around your shoulders when you looked back at the club, the once luxurious facade now consumed by fire as screams echoed against to haunting night.

And then, there was loud explosion on the upper floor, more specifically, from Henry’s office where you stood only moments ago, destroying everything in its vicinity.

He did this. Without a shadow of doubt, you knew he did this.

By the time you returned home, a bouquet of roses was waiting for you on your bed, a note attached with it.

You knew who it was from before you even opened it.

In the same elegant handwriting, it read-

“Do I have your attention now, darling?

I do not appreciate being ignored by you, love.”

(Ignoring being that you haven’t responded to his letters by writing articles about him the past few weeks.)

“I don’t understand why you pretend not to see me, when you know I’m here. The way your body tenses, the way you look over your shoulder when I’m near. You know I’m here. You always have.

I do not take being ignored lightly. I have tolerated your silence, your dismissiveness, your feigned ignorance. But there are limits to my restraint, and you are dangerously close to testing them. I wonder—do you truly believe you can pretend I do not exist forever? That if you avert your gaze, I will simply disappear?

You should know better.

This is not a game. I have seen things, learned things—collected things—that you would not want in the wrong hands. And if I were you, I would think very carefully about whether continued defiance is worth the consequences.

You will acknowledge me. One way or another.

See you soon, sweetheart.

JTR.”

-

It had been only a few days since the club burned down. As expected, it was the front page headline on every major newspaper.

Except for one, very new publishing company, who published this headline that made everyone buy their paper only:

“FUTURE KING OF ENGLAND FOUND AT THE DEVIANTS DEN WHERE THE RIPPER MADE A SURPRISE APPEARANCE!”

Representatives from the monarchy came to the London Post everyday, and later by the estate to demand that you take down the scandalous article.

“No.” You state, fixing your sunglasses. You were getting ready to go somewhere, and as much as fun it was to get payback, it was starting to get boring when these representatives came over everyday.

“But the royal family-”

“Is not my family. Is not Silas’s family because as I recall, no one from the royal family sent a condolence message, much less attend Lady Sarah’s funeral, and when I came to ask you to help find my husband, you refused. So gentlemen, I frankly don’t give a shit.”

“You will regret this.” You stopped at his words, turning around. The man with the thick moustache glared at you. “Those who do not fall in line, fall out. This is your last warning.”

“Yeah? Well, you can shove that warning up your ass.”

You got into your carriage, pondering over his words. Does the monarchy want to kill me?

You scoffed.

They’re gonna have to get in the fucking line.

You stopped by the London Post first, giving them orders to write more articles on prince Edward and the sighting of the notorious killer in the same place. Colin came to your office and handed you a folder, and when you read its contents, you smiled.

“When should we publish it?” Colin asked.

“Not yet.” You close the folder and stand up. “You have made a copy of this, right?” He nodded. “Good. Hide it in a safe place.”

He furrowed his brows. “Hide it? Why?”

“Because I don’t want it to be leaked before time.” You replied, grabbing your coat and leaving before he could ask for more.

Sighing, Colin pulled out his flask and looked around before taking a big gulp.

Your carriage stopped next at the cemetery. Grabbing the flowers, you walked out of the carriage and entered the cemetery. It was midday on a Monday, so there weren’t a lot of people here. Walking past a man who was digging up a grave, you realised you didn’t know where you were supposed to go.

So you asked the man. “Ah. It’s just up the hill, next to the tree.” You thanked him before looking down at the cradle he was preparing. Flashbacks of Qasim’s burial came to mind and your heart wrenched.

Following your gaze, the man shook his head. “Rich folks these days… they’re getting odder. They just don’t know how to spend their money, so off they go buying their burial plots, just in case they suddenly drop dead.”

You laughed lightly before going up the hill to your destination.

“Sarah Fairbrother-FitzGeorge” the tombstone read.

“Hi, Sarah.” You cleared your throat, resting the boquet of flowers next to the stone. “I know I should’ve visited earlier, but um… heh, I was preoccupied with some things. All Silas’s fault.” You joke, before patting the folder Colin gave you. “I think- I think I’ve found a way to find Silas. I don’t know if it’ll work, because well- he is being held captive by a psychopath whose identity remains unknown even in the future, but at the very least, I’d still be pissing off a lot of people and these days, that brings me joy.” You chuckle, before nodding. Offering a small prayer for her, you turn on your heel and leave.

As you walk away, your eyes fall on the burial site the man was preparing earlier, though he was no longer there. Instead, he was walking with another man, who towered over him. They were talking and you saw the taller one hand him a wad of cash.

You got in your carriage and told the driver to take you home.

As the carriage began moving, your mind wandered back to the night at the club. Of course, you haven’t forgotten the most important discovery that night-

The Time Machine.

And even though you weren’t able to see Henry again since because he was busy with police or his business, you already knew your Time Machine was destroyed for sure this time.

Which begs the question- who did this?

You were brought out of your thoughts as the carriage came to a sudden halt and there was a commotion outside. You heard your driver arguing with someone and as you opened the door to see, a man suddenly pushed you back in. You looked at his face that was covered with a bandana, his eyes glaring at you. He jumped into the carriage and you jumped back to the other door, only for another man with similar getup, entered from that side, trapping you in.

And in that split second, you knew if you didn’t fight now, there’s no chance anyone will find you.

You kicked the man in front of you, trying to push him out the door as the carriage began moving. The man behind you grabbed your shoulder and pulled you back, but you twisted your arm and elbowed him in the gut, making him lose his grip on you. But then the man in front of you lunged at you and grabbed a hold of your neck, pulling you up and then smashing your head back on the wooden floor of the carriage, knocking the air out of you.

Your hands began to claw at his when he began squeezing your neck, your eyes bulging out as he increased the pressure. You couldn’t even say a word as he strangled you. Tears formed in your eyes as you looked at the man behind you, silently begging him for mercy.

But he simply tilted his head at you, his eyes crinkling as if he was smiling.

“You shouldn’t have stuck your nose in places it didn’t belong, woman.” He sneered.

You shouldn’t have stuck your nose in places it didn’t belong, woman.

Really, if I had just minded my own business, I wouldn’t be here. If I had never bothered with finding out the infamous killer, if I had never bothered with finding out everyone’s secrets, if I had just never gotten in the damn machine, I would’ve avoided this fate.

Black spots began to cloud your vision and your grip on the hands around your neck began to loosen, ready to accept the fate when the carriage came to a halt, followed by a scream and a thud.

The men seemed startled and the man behind you pulled out a knife, silently waiting for an attack.

But he was taken by a surprise when the other door opened and the man strangling you was ripped off you and out of the carriage.

He leaped out to help him, leaving you inside. Collecting your breath, you got out of the carriage to run, when you saw the decapitated body of your strangler lying outside the door.

“Please! Don’t-!” You looked up just in time to see a tall figure holding the second attacker in a chokehold and then-

He slit his throat.

Your eyes widened as blood spurted out of his neck and he fell to the ground. The dark figure breathed heavily and slowly, he turned his head to look at you.

For a moment, you thought he’d come for you next. But he simply turned around and left.

It was only when his back was facing you that you realised who it was. Tall figure, broad shoulders and the top hat-

Jack the Ripper.

And if that wasn’t enough confirmation, the bouquet of white roses on your bed certainly were, and a note that read-

“Next time, look away.”

Was this an apology? Or a warning?

-

You were sitting inside the white drawing room at Buckingham Palace. No, you were not summoned. And no, they did not throw you out like last time. In fact, they sat you inside for a meeting with the royal directly once you told them that you’d take down everything from before if they met you just once.

You fixed your dress, then adjusted your seat. You’d come here the day after you’d been ambushed and after speaking to the authorities, you came here.

The door opened and you stood up, throat going dry at the thought of meeting her. The Queen.

Instead, a tall man walked inside. A familiar tall man with steely eyes.

Prince Albert.

You courtesy as he made his way towards you, arms behind his back.

“Your majesty.”

“Lady FitzGeorge.” He looked you from top to bottom, sizing you up. He motioned for you sit, taking his seat on the sofa across you. “How may I help you?”

“You’re not who I was expecting but… I suppose you should be the one to deal with this.” You pulled out the brown folder and passed it to him.

“What? Is a prince not good enough for you?” He retorted, amusement in his eyes that died as he opened the file. “What is this?”

“Don’t worry, I haven’t published it yet but I will tomorrow.” You smiled, watching his jaw tick.

“There’s no merit to this.” He flipped through the pages. “No one would ever believe this.”

“And yet you read.” You sigh. “There is merit to this, your majesty. I was there that night at the club and I saw your son.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “So? That qualifies you to link the royal family to being mentally insane?”

“No, but perhaps your son being in a relationship with a cross dressing, gay man would.” You clasp your hands. “Now, you could argue that just because Prince Edward did something like that, it doesn’t mean that the entire royal family is insane. And that’s when I’ll bring up how completely insane it was for Prince George to marry his mistress, Sarah Fairbrother. And then how his son jumped off a ship and died when his wife was murdered. Not to mention Daisy, Silas’s late sister, who was admitted in a mental institution where she died. And now you’ll say- “that just insinuates that the FitzGeorge line is insane!” Well, that’s when I’ll bring up the all the diseases that run in your family.”

“There are no diseases-”

“Your sons have a tendency to bleed for a prolonged time when they’re hurt.” You watched his eyes widen slightly. “Even small bruises and cuts take too long to heal. Sometimes they don’t.”

They didn’t just call Hemophilia “the Royal Disease” for nothing.

“And as for mental health, well, respectfully, Her Majesty isn’t doing so well, is she?”

He stood up angrily. “Victoria is not sick-!”

“No, but she is pregnant. A lot.” You stand up slowly. “Everyone she gives birth, her majesty becomes someone else, doesn’t she? She doesn’t hold the baby, she despises her heir, she grows gloomy and introverted and by now, any normal man of today’s era would’ve sent his wife to a mental asylum. But not you. No, you love her. And the royal status, of course, which you’d lose if she’s gone. So what do you do? You keep your wife pregnant, so that’s she’s unable to take part in her duties, where you step in, playing the monarch while letting the government excuse your wife and her behaviour for being with child.” It was a shot in the dark, but you always theorised that the queen relied very heavily on her husband because well-

She was constantly suffering from postpartum depression. From one pregnancy to the next. She didn’t have much time to recover from it.

Prince Albert flared his nostrils. “You have some nerve to make bold accusations-“

“Not just accusations. I am willing to go above and beyond for my husband.” You exhale. “In the past few months, since Silas has gone missing, I have given up on being courteous and forgiving. I have asked for help, I have begged for it everywhere, only to be turned down, insulted and threatened. I will no longer be allowed to be mistreated. You and the queen had once claimed Silas as your family, and now that he’s no longer of use, you discard him? If not that he’s blood, could you not care about him as a human? As a citizen of your kingdom?”

Albert remained silent as you talked.

“I had come here before, asking for help.” You shake your head. “I’m not asking anymore. You have until 8 am tomorrow to find Silas, or I’m publishing this article.”

“How-” “You have abundant money and resources, eyes and ears everywhere, I’m sure you’ll find a way.”

“You can’t-“ “I assure you, I can and I will. I will burn this kingdom to the ground and watch from the front row. Why should I be the only to suffer, when I can make everyone else hurt as well?” You walk past him.

“And what makes you think I can’t stop you right now?” His voice stopped you.

You turned to look at him, raising a brow.

“And what makes you think that I didn’t come here without an exit strategy?” You sigh, as if tired of explaining everything. “Do you believe that the file is the only copy?”

After you’d left the palace, you were going to return home, but you spotted Benjamin on the street. He was walking in a rush, pushing past the crowd to go somewhere.

You followed him on foot, blending in with the public to remain undetected. Finally, after 20 minutes or so, you saw him stop outside a run-down building. It was on the opposite end of town, near the slums of London.

After a few minutes, Benjamin left the building, slamming the door on his way out. He stormed down the street and you lost sight of him. You focused back on the building. What was in there? What happened to make Benjamin lose his cool?

After a little bit of contemplation, you decided to investigate.

Crossing the street, you made your way to the alley besides the building. You spotted a window but it was a little high up, so you backed up a bit and then used the dumpster to jump up high enough for your hand to grab onto the window ledge.

Pulling yourself up, you peeked inside. It was normal sitting room, though a bit fancier than exterior of the building. You inched your fingers towards the glass and opened it slowly. Hearing no one, you attempted to lift yourself inside, but suddenly a hand grabbed your wrist and yanked you inside.

You fell face first on the carpeted floor.

“You just like to get yourself in trouble, don’t you?” Lady Scarlet smiled down at you. She was wearing a wine red silk robe, hair as red and luscious as ever.

Shocked, you stared as she gazed out the window to see if anyone else was there, a drink in her hand as she closed the window shut. “Didn’t your mother teach you not to snoop around?”

You get off the floor and glare at him. “Didn’t your mother teach you to be a man?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “What are you doing here?”

“Following Benjamin. What are you doing here?”

“I’m sure you know my last home was burned down.” “You call that place home- nevermind.” He rolled his eyes at your insults. He walked out of the parlour and you followed him. “What did Benjamin want from you? Why did he look so mad?”

“What do you care?” He sighed exasperated, entering the study.

“He’s my friend.” You stated firmly as he sprawled himself over the chair across the mahogany desk.

“I’m starting to think he’s more than a friend.” He looked at you through the crystal glass he drank from.

“And if he is? What’s it to you?” You crossed your arms and you watched something flicker across his eyes. Disdain? Resentment? Jealousy?

“Screw him for all I care.” He looked away from you, sipping his drink. “Thanks, not that I was looking for permission.” You sigh, looking around the room. There seemed to be something familiar about this place.

“If you won’t tell me about Benjamin, at least tell me where Henry is?”

“He’s left London.” Scarlet stood up and made his way to the corner table to pour himself another drink. “And before you ask- no, he’s not on the run. He has business to deal with.” He looked at his glass and then at you. “I don’t suppose youd drink this.”

“No, but I’d be leaving soon anyways.” You turn around. “Without this?” You looked over your shoulder as you heard him open a drawer, and your breath hitched at what he’d pulled out.

The Time Machine.

“How did you-“

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice you hiding under the desk in the club that night? I spotted the moment you’d entered, hanging off Henry’s arm.”

“I was hiding under-“

“I saw your stubby ankles sticking out from the side of the desk.” He played with the Time Machine, popping it in the air and catching it, your heart dropping for the exact amount of time it was in the air.

What if it broke?!

“I don’t know what this is, but I do know that this is important to you.” He looked at the machine. “When the fire broke out in the club, I returned to the study to grab some of Henry’s important documents and that’s when I grabbed it. I’ve had it for weeks now, and I still don’t know what it is.”

“It’s a clock.” You nod at the numbers written on it. “It shows the date and time simultaneously. I invented it.” The lie slipped though your teeth with ease. “I’m supposed to patent it and sell it, hopefully make a fortune out of it.”

“Impressive. But you don’t need a fortune now, do you?” He was referring to Silas’s money you’d inherited.

“Still. It’s something I created. It’s mine.” You insisted.

He smirked. “Well, then that means it’s invaluable.” You scowled at his tone. “What do you want for it? Money?”

“No, that’d be too easy.” He hummed. “I want you to give me something that would… torment you for a long time.” And then suddenly, his eyes shone bright, as if he got an idea.

“I want a kiss.”

“What?”

“Kiss me.” He walked up to you. “Kiss me, the cross-dresser pervert you hate so much, and you can have your little clock.”

“I don’t have time for jokes.”

“Clearly. I still have your clock.” He waved the machine in front of you, irking you.

Glaring daggers at him, you cross your arms across your chest. “You think I won’t do it because what? I’m a Muslim?”

He smirks. “You’re all bark and no bite, darling.”

You suddenly grab his collar and yank him close. “You want a kiss? Fine.” His eyes widened for a second before turning lustful, landing on your lips.

“Go ahead. Take the lead.” He smiled, looking into your eyes.

Exhaling inaudibly, you keep a firm a grip on his collar as you lean in, to stop him if he tries anything.

Just get it over with.

Time slowed down as you zeroed in on his lips. They were stained from the wine. He had a slight stubble, just beginning to grow. The rest of his skin was smooth, even with the makeup.

Stop stalling. Get it over with.

You gulp and just as you’re about to close the distance, the door suddenly bashes open as 3 masked men barge in.

Scarlett pulls away from you, both of you stepping back as the men begin stalk towards you.

Scarlett squared his shoulders. “Gentlemen, I suggest you walk away right now unless you want to be seriously hurt.”

That sentence alone was all it took for the masked men to lunge. You sidestepped as one jumped towards you while the other two men attacked Scarlett. Grabbing the crystal bottle from the corner, you bashed it against the man’s head, making him stumble. It gave you enough time to run, but as you ran down the hall towards the main door, it opened to reveal 2 more masked men. You twisted on your heel and ran through the door on your right, the parlour. You dashed towards the window and opened it, jumping out of it just as a hand grabbed your wrist, but your sleeve ripped and you slipped, falling down to the ground on your knees, scraping them.

Instead of your knees, you looked at the Time Machine in your hand. Yes, you’d swiped it the moment those men barged in. You didn’t have time to celebrate as you heard footsteps. Getting back on your feet, you ran towards the opposite end of the alley. You turned the corned and noticed the streets were way less busy than usual, which meant you couldn’t lose these attackers in the crowd.

Still, you screamed at the bystanders to help.

“Help! Those men are chasing me!”

Of course, they’d only looked on in shock. Someone even went back inside their house.

You ran towards a carriage at the end of the street, hoping to get in and use your machine to get out of this era, but two more masked men rounded the corner, making you change your step and dash towards the other side of the road and round that corner.

Looking over your shoulder for a second, you spotted four- no, five men hot on your heels. There’s no way you’ll be able to beat them on your own.

I need to get somewhere dark, somehwere isolated to use the damn machine without having one of these men grab onto me and travel with me to another time!

As you ran down the street, you looked over your shoulder one more time, only to crash into someone.

Strong hands grabbed onto you and you don’t think you’d ever been this glad to see a man.

“Y/n-?”

“BEN! THOSE MEN ARE CHASING ME!” You pointed at the masked men, who slowed down, strolling towards you two now.

Benjamin’s face hardened and he pushed you behind him. “There’s a cemetery down the road. Hide there. I’ll come get you when it’s safe.”

You breathed heavily and then ran, spotting the cemetery. It was dark and considering how late it was now, you doubted there’d be any visitors.

It’s the perfect spot for you to use the machine.

Running into the cemetery, you immediately recognised it as the one where Sarah was buried. You jogged further in to find a hiding spot, lest any of the attackers manages to slip by Benjamin.

It was dark in the graveyard, only the moon illuminating the place. Just enough for you to find the trail that lead up to Sarah’s grave. On your way up the trail, you spotted the grave from the other day. The one that was dug up in advance but didn’t have a coffin.

It was filled now, mud piled over it messily.

You gulped, walking up to Sarah’s tombstone and resting against the tree, trying to catch your breath. As much you’d like to go help Benjamin, well truthfully, you couldn’t. It was clear the men were sent by Prince Albert to get rid of you, just like the other day.

Pulling out your machine, you began setting in the time.

Time to go home-

“Leaving without a goodbye?” You jumped back, startled. And if you weren’t scared before, the shadow of the tall man in the long coat and the top hat certainly was enough for your soul to leave your body.

The Ripper.

His face, still concealed by the dark night.

“Please- don’t-“ you backed away. He titled his head. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you. I just came to bid you farewell.”

You were too mortified to express your confusion.

He sighs. “I had hoped you’d stay long enough to play the game with me, especially now that you were so close to winning.” Game? Winning?

He looked away from you and towards the grave, the fresh one.

“But I suppose the reward is just not good enough. Oh well. At least, I don’t have to clean up after this one.”

You followed his gaze to the grave and then looked back at him, then back again at him. The horrifying realisation slapped you in the face.

“SILAS!” You dashed towards the grave, stopping in disbelief but one look at the man on the trail had you falling to your knees as you began digging through the dirt, the machine discarded.

The mud was still wet, which meant that he had been buried today, possibly a few hours ago.

Was he dead? Or was he buried alive? You didn’t know which answer petrified you more.

You were breathing fast, hyperventilating as your hands shoveled the dirt for god knows how long.

This is an unmarked grave. It doesn’t even have a tombstone. No one would’ve found him if you’d left-

Your hands felt something hard and you knew you were close to finding the coffin. Moments later you’d finally been able to shove dirt off to reveal a pale wooden coffin. But no matter how hard you tried, it didn’t budge open, it was like it was nailed shut.

That didn’t stop you from starting to bang your fists in. The wood was off poor quality, not solid wood but you doubt it was going to stop you from breaking it open.

You just needed to see him, needed to see his face.

Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you punched over and over until your knuckles began bleeding, but you didn’t let it deter you. No. You didn’t stop punching until the wood began to splinter and finally a hole formed as the wood gave out.

With a grunt, you ripped the wood from crevice and saw him.

“SILAS!” He was lying there, going in and out of consciousness. He was alive! “Silas! Get up! We need to get out of here- SILAS!”

You attempted to pull him out but that was much harder when he was a dead weight and he slipped out of your grasp and back into the coffin. He was drowsy, probably either drugged or from the lack of oxygen when he was inside the coffin. But you needed him to get a grip.

So you slapped him across the face, making him snap out of it. “SILAS! This is not your fucking grave! GET THE FUCK UP!” Silas only stared at you, in disbelief? In shock? He didn’t say a word, but he was more conscious, though still weak as you helped him up.

You climbed out of the grave and then pulled him up, but as soon as he was out, he was suddenly struck by a metal rod, making him fall. “Silas!” You dove towards him and shoved the man away from him, making him appear into the moonlight and revealing himself to be-

William? Silas’s uncle?

“No!” You shielded Silas with your arms as he struck again, hitting you. “Stop! You’ll kill him!”

“Good! I’ll get rid of you two together and get my damn money at once.” You jumped over Silas to shield him, as his uncle began raining down strike after strike, not stopping as you screamed in pain.

You blacked out and it was Silas who had to witness from the corner of his eyes as a figure came up behind his uncle and grabbed him by the throat. The metal rod fell to the ground with a clang and one second, his uncle was being choked and in the next, his throat was slashed.

The tall figure turned towards you two and slowly made his way to Y/n, looking directly at Silas as he knelt down and picked you up.

“If you don’t sacrifice for what you want,

What you want becomes the sacrifice.” He said, looking down at you as he caressed your cheek.

He looked back at Silas.

“You’ll never see her again.” He said, turning around and leaving.

Silas tried to move, but he couldn’t. Pain and exhaustion overtook him, with only one thought haunting him.

The Ripper had taken you.

Thoughts?

[catgrandpa]

I need a fic where Bruce realizes this kid who shoved his way into his sidekick role will not be leaving anytime soon, and instead of emotionally distancing himself he becomes a combination Helicopter Mom and Shotgun Dad.

☆彡

Tim: Bruce, I’m headed out to meet my friends at the mall.

Bruce: Is that Kent boy going to be there?

Tim, rolling his eyes: Yes, Kon is going. And so is Bart, and Cassie, and maybe Bernard if he can make it.

Bruce: Hnn. Do you have everything? Coat, scarf, keys, wallet, tracker, pepper spray, dagger, kryptonite shard, emergency beacon, first aid kit, fire starter, extra pair of-

Tim: Yes, Dad! I already went through the list with Alfred. I’ll be fine.

☆彡

Kon: Hello Sir! I’m here to pick up Tim!

Bruce: Follow me.

…

Bruce: Sit down.

Kon: In your study? Is Tim on the way, or…?

Bruce: I just thought you might need reminding of the fact that I have a vault downstairs full of items specifically designed to take down a Kryptonian.

Kon: Whuh?

Bruce: You should probably ask your father about the time I was slightly annoyed with him for encroaching on one of my cases.

Kon: Why are you telling me this?

Bruce: Now just imagine what would happen if someone were to hurt my darling little boy.

*door opens*

Tim: Hey Bruce, Alfie said Kon was here, have you seen him? Oh! Hey, why are you two in here??

Bruce: Oh, hey sweetheart, we were just chatting. Have a good time at the carnival!

☆彡

Dick, pouting: I don’t understand, you’re not this protective over who Jason or I date.

Bruce: Don’t be ridiculous, Jason and I may have our problems, but he would never betray me by gallivanting off with someone I disapprove of.

Dick, who covered for Jay sneaking out to visit Roy Harper just last night: Mhm yeah, sure. And you’re not worried about me?

Bruce: Chum, I’ve known who you were going to marry since you were 12 years old.

Dick: WHAT?

Bruce: I have the whole ceremony already planned. I’ve got Gotham’s best wedding planner on standby. You have a very nice house waiting for you both, 20 minutes from here. A modest 7 bedrooms on 5 acres of land.

Dick: I’m not even dating anyone?!

Bruce: I can’t wait to meet my 3 grandbabies:)

[radiance1]

"I need to find my darling husband!" Said Danny, dressed to the nines in a very elaborate royal dress with a lot of jewelry running through the ballroom after having been on the opposite end of a very worrying phone call.

"Seriously, what do you even see in that mortal!?" Screamed an observant and Danny stopped and leveled them with a glare cold enough to freeze over an active volcano and sharp enough to cut through obsidian.

"He makes me laugh."

Unlike those dead suitors went unsaid, but everyone at the ball (read: search for a bride/groom for the royal ghostling) practically heard it anyways.

Meanwhile over in the land of the living

Okay so Jason may have messed up. Now you see, he hasn't seen his platonic husband for tax benefits in a while, and he's been very careful to not let his identity as the Red Hood slip up before . Not even once in their relationship.

(He's not counting the time his in-laws sniffed him out as a Crime Lord, because Danny never believed them.)

Now, it wasn't exactly his fault he slipped up. You try to fight off an entire group after being pulled up on out of nowhere on the phone while trying to hide said noises of fighting.

Who was he calling? Danny of course since he said he was away for business. What business? Never specified and Jason wasn't going to pry.

So now here he was, bound 'helplessly' as Jason Todd along with a few other random civilians. Which, like, rude.

Wasn't he already good enough for this ancient ritual or whatever?

You know, he really should have walked with that "Anti-kidnapping device" he got that one time. Which honestly he feels like he should be surprised that such a thing exists but considering it was from Bruce. Well.

He's not surprised.

Oh, there's the Justice League now. Shame, he wanted to knock out a few guys himself- Oh, now he's being used to summon a ghost from the Infinite Realms of Royal Lineage.

Yea he probably should have walked with that "Anti-kidnapping device."

Wait a goddamn-

Is that-

"My darling husband!" Danny shouted, scooping him off the circle and away from the head cultist and swinging him around. "You had me worried sick!"

Now, he should ask the question anyone would in this situation when finding out your best friend and platonic husband for tax benefits was apparently a ghost of royal lineage.

"Why're you in a dress?"

"Okay, first of all I rock this thing." Danny huffed.

"That you do." Jason agreed rather easily.

"Second of all, blame those guys over there." He jerked his head in the direction of two very green floating eyeball people.

Not the weirdest he's seen, honestly.

The Observants were whispering to each other and leveling them-Jason in particular-a look.

"Now as you can see, I already have a spouse and I don't need another!" Danny hugged Jason closer for emphasis and he took the time to whisper in Danny's ear. "Did you really marry me to play the husband card?"

"Well, yes." Danny agreed. "But also because of taxes, because I love you and you're my best friend."

"So, we're still done for watching that movie right."

"Obviously."

A pained grunt came from below them and they both looked down to see Batman standing over a very unconscious cultist and looking up at them.

Hm.

He forgot they were there.

"So," Jason began, staring Bruce straight in the eyes. Batman's eyes narrowed. "Don't suppose we can push that forward to right now?"

"Yea, sure why not I'm not doing anything important." Danny leveled the Observants a look, and before either they, Batman, or the Justice League could do anything they both disappeared.

[luv-lock]

bro what would happen if spider!reader actually ended up with someone? it could even be just a one night stand thing, then someday they end up meeting that person again and it’s brought up in front of everyone but spider!reader is very nonchalant abt it, shes just like; yeah that was fun! anyway so

You never really thought about it. It was one night, fun, casual—nothing deep. You had needs, and, well, that guy (or girl, whatever you were into at the time) was right there. It was a good night, but after that? You bounced.

Fast-forward to months later, when you and the Batboys were out on a mission. You weren’t expecting to ever see your one-night stand again, but, of course, Gotham had a way of screwing with you.

“Y/N?” a voice called out behind you.

You turned around, coming face-to-face with—oh. Ohhh. That guy.

“Oh, hey!” you said casually, as if you weren’t currently in the middle of taking down a gang of arms dealers. “Long time no see!”

The Batboys froze. Every. Single. One of them.

Dick blinked. Jason’s grip on his gun tightened. Tim nearly dropped his staff. Damian looked like he was about to commit a murder.

“…You know him?” Dick asked slowly, eyes darting between you and the mystery guy.

You shrugged. “Yeah, we slept together once. Anyway—”

Immediate chaos.

Dick short-circuited. Full stop. He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, like a goldfish struggling to breathe. “YOU WHAT?!”

Jason physically recoiled. “I’m sorry—WHAT?!”

Tim actually choked. He had to lean on his staff for support. “That—That was not the answer I was expecting.”

Damian looked at the guy like he was a cockroach he needed to crush. “Tt. You have no shame.”

Bruce, who was listening through comms, muted himself. He's so tired of your ass.

Meanwhile, the guy just blinked. “Wow. Okay. I was not expecting you to be working with the freaking Batfamily. This is… a lot.”

You laughed. “Yeah, life’s funny like that!”

Jason rubbed his temples. “You can’t just drop a bomb like that and move on like it’s nothing!”

You looked at him, tilting your head. “Why not? It was fun. But that was a while ago. I mean, it’s not like I’m marrying the dude.”

The guy held up his hands awkwardly. “Uh, yeah, definitely not. No offense, Y/N.”

“None taken!” You smiled.

Jason pointed an accusing finger at the guy. “You. Get lost before I put a bullet in your kneecap.”

“Yeah, sure. Good seeing you, Y/N,” the guy said before speed-walking the hell away.

Dick ran a hand through his hair, still in shock. “Y/N… how…? When…?”

You smirked, enjoying this way too much. “What? You guys act like I’m a virgin or something.”

Tim sighed, clearly regretting his entire existence. “I just… I don’t know how to process this.”

Damian, arms crossed, glared at you. “You should have higher standards.”

“Oh, I do,” you said cheerfully. “That’s why you’re my favorite.” You booped his nose, making his glare intensify.

Bruce finally unmuted himself on the comms. “We will never talk about this again.”

Jason crossed his arms. “Oh, I’m bringing this up every chance I get.”

Tim nodded. “Same.”

Dick just sighed. “God, I need a drink.”

You just grinned. “See? This is why I didn’t tell you guys in the first place.”

[witherby]

If the last fic takes place before the Batfam knew about Conners existence, I just wanna see Mouse explain to them that a Superman cosplayer saved them lol

I love that. "Yeah some cosplayer saved my life. 10/10 would let him do it again."

Littlest Wayne: Information Gathering

Masterlist is Here!

"You and Superman need to come straight to the Cave when you return to Earth."

"I miss you, too, babe," Hal smirks, gliding just above the ground on a planet he and Clark are guarding for a major diplomatic conference. "Tryna get the debrief out of the way so we can get me out of by boxer briefs right after?"

"Mouse was in a hostage situation in Metropolis today that was too overcast for them to get out of."

Hal's good mood plummets. He almost shouts for Clark to get his ass over to him so they can immediately head back.

"Are they —"

"Alive, and relatively unharmed considering the severity of the event."

"What does relatively mean in this context, B?" Hal snaps. "Relatively unharmed by vigilante standards or by civilian standards? Are they in the hospital?"

"Some bad bruising to the temple and a low-grade burn on the right arm. They're safe."

Bruce's calm tone and steady cadence helps relax Hal. His shoulders un-tense and he lets out a sigh.

"Alright. But there's more to it, otherwise you wouldn't have contacted me."

Bruce hums in that quiet way he does when he's pleased by Hal's deductive reasoning. It makes him smile and miss him that much more, and he's only been gone two days.

"They were rescued by a new Meta. Called himself Superman."

"Look at you, crackin' jokes on an official League line. Never thought I'd see the day!"

"..."

"You're not joking. There's a second Superman flying around?"

"A Superboy, by the looks of it. He's the real deal — the flight, the strength, and the suit all points to another Kryptonian. This will make three, after Supergirl."

Hal furrows his brow. He lets his feet hit the ground and starts to pace, kicking up little bits of purple dirt. This planet is ridiculously fragile. It's part of the reason he and Clark are protecting it during these peace talks.

"Is it a baby? Don't remember either Kara or Lois looking pregnant."

"A teenager. Around Mouse's age, by the looks of him, and very inexperienced from what scattered footage I can find of the event."

"Which makes no sense. There's something up if he's a teen but still can't use his powers right. Supes told us he could hone his almost perfectly before he was old enough to drive a car. A new scheme by Luthor or Waller, maybe?"

"I knew I married you for a reason."

"Keep praising me like that and there won't be time for a debrief when I get home."

Bruce hums again. His considering sound. The Green Lantern suit feels very constricting, all of a sudden.

"You don't need to rush your mission to get back. There is one more thing you need to know prior to return, however."

"I'm all ears."

"Mouse described the Superboy as... handsome."

Hal falls to his hands and knees, kicking up a small cloud of purple dust.

"No, no, nooo! They're just a baby!"

"Well. They're seventeen."

"Well I say they're too young for romance! Yesterday they were afraid of Cooties!!"

"Time flies. It's inevitable."

"We're gonna wrap these peace talks up tonight."

Bruce sounds amused on the other end of the line, like he hasn't just crushed Hal's entire world three sentences ago.

"You aren't due back for another week."

"We're wrapping it up tonight!"

"Okay. Agent A will know to set your plate tomorrow."

"Can he make some of those mini quiches? I'm gonna need comfort food to get over this."

"I'll pass the request along."

"And can you wear the see-through robe you were given after you shot that Dior commercial?"

"...if you slick back your hair, yes."

Hal grins. He's still not happy about his youngest kid growing up so fast, but this is a nice consolation prize.

--

True to his word, Hal and Clark get the peace talks concluded by nightfall and head back to Earth. Clark is given the general run-down of what happened on the way, and his curiosity and insistence on getting answers lets Hal know it'll be a long night. He's gonna slick his hair back anyway. He misses his husband, dammit.

You sit at the meeting table in the Bat Cave, feet propped on top exactly like Jason does it, with your hands stuffed in the pockets of your hoodie. You stare groggily at Hal and Clark as they fly in from their trip, shuffling to your feet to give them both sleepy hugs.

"Welcome back," you yawn. "Dad said you have questions?"

"Hey, Mousey," Hal grins, ruffling your hair. You grumble and wave his hand away, then grumble louder when Clark does the exact same thing. "Just got some follow-up questions about the field trip, then we'll let you get back to bed."

You go back to your seat and slump into it, rubbing your eyes. "Kay."

"Did the boy you met tell you his name?" Clark asks, sitting to your right. There's a dossier sitting on the table that he flips open, glancing over the information Bruce collected with Tim's help. He frowns at a still image pulled from his interview on TV.

"Just called himself Superman," you explain. "He had a version of your suit on. It looked legit. I'm guessing he's not your son, based on the way you're looking at the file."

"He is not. Did he seem to be acting maliciously or under someone's control? Was he flesh and blood or robotic?" Clark asks. "Did he hurt anyone? Did he try to hurt you?"

"No," you say, "he was warm. He's flesh and blood and definitely saved us from that fire. In fact he seemed...uh.."

You wave your hand around vaguely and pick over the best way to phrase this.

"Okay! There's a boy at school named Rory. He transferred to Gotham Academy this year after being homeschooled."

"Mousey," Hal speaks up, "I know you're tired, but we kinda gotta stay on track —"

"I am!" You insist. "I am, I swear. Look, it was obvious Rory was homeschooled because he didn't know how to, like, socialize properly? He asked a lot of questions that feel like common-sense if you're used to going to public schools and talking to people outside your family. The Superman cosplayer kind of acted like that."

"Cosplayer?" Clark mouths at Hal, who waves him off.

"So you think he's never been out there doing any hero stuff before that day?"

You shrug and nod. "I think he's never been out at all before that day. He reminded me a lot of Rory on his first day of school."

"But he didn't hurt you?" Hal asks.

"I promise, he didn't. He spoke to me like twice and then brought me to the EMTs to get looked at. Then Jason showed up and brought me home after making sure the school knew I wouldn't be taking the bus back from Metropolis."

"Last question," Clark promises, recapturing your attention. "Can you find him right now? With your shadows?"

"Uh, I can try."

Your gaze becomes a little distant. The shadows cast from one of the overhead lights shifts and dissolves into the ground, zipping out of the cave. Hal and Clark wait silently as you work, feeling for the presence of the boy that saved you just a day before.

"... M e t r o p o l i s..." You mutter, voice taking on that faint, echoing quality it does whenever you speak through the darkness. "...A r o o m...c o n c i o u s...k n o w s I s e e..."

"Come back, Mouse," Hal says, urgent. You take a moment to get your bearings, yawning and rubbing your face. "He knows you used your power to find him?"

You nod. "He saw my shadow move in the corner of his room. Guys, it's so bare and dark. He's got a cot, an alarm clock, and one blanket in there. It looks like some room you'd stick a sick person in to quarantine them."

"Where in Metropolis is he? That doesn't sound like the Solitary Confinement cells in the prison."

"It's not a jail. It looked like a lab, I think?"

"Lex Luthor," Hal and Clark state at the same time. Clark stands up, drawing you into another gentle hug, then heads for the exit.

"Thank you for your help, Mouse! Sleep well."

"Bye, uncle Clark. Have a good night," you call after him. When Hal stands, you rise with him, stretching. "Can I go to bed, now?"

"Yeah, hon," Hal nods, pressing his hand to your back and guiding you to the stairs. "We'll head up together. I'll tell your dad what we learned when he comes back from patrol."

"Kay," you mumble, climbing the steps with another wide yawn. "M'sleeping in tomorrow. Being up at two am sucks."

Hal chuckles. "Yeah, it does. We'll put your breakfast in some Tupperware for when you get up, then."

Once the two of you climb through the grandfather clock and reenter the manor proper, you give Hal one more goodnight hug, then excuse yourself to go to bed. Your eyes are closed as you shuffle into your room and nudge the door closed behind you, navigating the space from memory. It's not until you start climbing back into bed that you feel a dip in it that shouldn't be there.

The dip of another person's weight.

You snap your eyes open and you inhale to scream. A hand presses itself to your mouth, and you find yourself staring at those brilliant blues from yesterday.

"Waitwaitwait-" the boy gasps, whisper-shouting. "Please!!"

You push his hand off and he lifts them both up in placation, floating off the bed and several feet away from you.

"What do you want!?" You whisper-yell back. "Why are you in my room!? That's creepy!"

He grimaces, knees curling towards his chest. In the low light, you can see color painting his cheeks.

"I wanted to come see you," he murmurs.

"Why?"

"I don't know your name."

You're completely flummoxed. You shake your head and shrug.

"Do you need to?" You ask.

The boy floats a little closer, his gaze intense. He looks at you like...he looks at you like you're the most important thing in the world right now. It makes your stomach swoop.

"Yes," he says, completely sincere. "I'm...I can't...there's this..."

His brow furrows. He's exceptionally easy to read, like he's never known how to be anything except fully, authentically himself. It's a welcome change in a family of vigilante detectives with emotional intimacy issues. It'll help you know if he's trying to deceive you, too.

Quietly, you give him your name. His eyes snap to yours and he repeats it, lips shaping the vowels and consonants with an unusual reverence. You can feel your own face getting a little warm.

"I'm...Conner," the boy says. His eyes dart to your mouth. You oblige.

"Hi, Conner," you mutter. His whole body un-tenses, looking like a puppet with his strings cut as he almost dangles in the air.

"Can I —" Conner cuts himself off. He drifts closer to you. You shift back, feeling cornered from where you kneel in your bed. "Ah. I wanted... I don't know how to say..."

Exhausted and confused, you gesture at him to hurry it up a little. You know you should probably alert someone that the new Meta boy is literally floating four feet away from you right now, but you know he isn't here to cause harm.

"It's late," you speak up. "Can you try a little harder to get the point across so I can sleep?"

"Yes," Conner says quickly, obediently. "Call for me."

You blink heavily. Your mind feels like sludge. "Elaborate."

"When you need something," he specifies. "If you're in danger, or lonely, or just...or just want to. Please. Call for me and I'll come to you."

"Why?" You yawn. It's getting harder to stay conscious. You let your body fall over until you collide with the pillows, eyes slipping closed. "Why me?"

Conner floats above you, reaching down to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear with more reverence than is appropriate for having barely met. His fingers brush against the bruise on your temple, featherlight.

"Because it's you," he says, as your consciousness fades. "Something in my heart is yours... I hope that's okay."

You hum, managing a barely discernible "kay," in your last seconds of awareness before sleep pulls you under.

In your subconscious mind, you register warmth wrap around you for a moment, and then you're alone with nothing but a cracked window as evidence anyone had ever been there.