#Duke had it coming I’m sorry

[binglepringle]

(A few of the) Batfamily and their Hozier songs!

because I have not slept I’ve barely eaten I have only listened to Hozier for the past week and done class work sheets in a trance-like state of unconsciousness

So if this doesn’t make much sense, you know why. It’s the voices telling me.

Bruce: As It Was

Dick: Be

Jason: In a Week

Cassandra: Like Real People Do

Damian: Shrike

Duke: Sunlight

Stephanie: Wasteland, Baby!

Barbara: Jackie and Wilson

[mangoisms]

weird question. but in ur opinion, what major would tim do at college? I was thinking comp sci but making him a business major would be so funny

good question! to be honest.. i want to say it’s difficult to pin down any one major he’d choose, especially because i feel like he’s not exactly academically inclined, at least if he’s doing vigilante stuff? school was always a big issue for him hence him dropping out to focus on The Mission and that seems like All He Is Doing right now thank you dc editorial. but if he isn’t… comp sci is a good choice but for me, i lean towards maybe something like mechanical engineering? or electrical engineering? kinda feel like he has comp sci in the bag already from having to learn it/having learned it in his time as a vigilante (largely due to babs im sure!)

but mechanical or electrical engineering just because of how much stuff he created for his suit when he was robin and how he was always reconfiguring redbird and messing with all of it. although where those skills and that degree could be applied is Another Question Entirely. my best guess is — and this is probably super basic — with WE? or maybe if we want to have a little fun. somewhere like kord industries. or even STAR labs. or maybe a teaching position? could see him being down for that as he gets older

a little more indulgent would be photography but even if not a major i would like to think he at least minors in it or something!

business major would be SO funny because he would be miserable the entire time. i think.

but yeah! he’s just. idk. probably hates prerequisites. probably wants to take ten classes at once. he’d really need to slow down i think which is the goal. ultimately. for me. in any case This got very long my bad <3 i’m just. fascinated by him and his mysterious future

[mirigold-mayflowers]

I have arrived with shitty art! Here, take this! (Shoves a pile of bullshit into your hands and runs away)

I need to see Tim Drake with a Kid so much. MAKE THAT BOY A SINGLE PARENT.

A kid knocks on his door and says “I know what you are”.

Tim thinks he’s being pushed out of the closet.

The kid has a picture of Red Robin slipping through Tim window’s.

Tim lets him in.

The kid looks him dead in the eye and says “I think you need a sidekick”

Tim has a Deja vu so hard he ends up saying yes out of shock. He keeps the kid though, that’s his son now and he’s gonna protect that little shit like his life depends on it.

Who cares if Tim is 19 and the kid is only 7 years younger? He’s son shaped so he’s gonna be son.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: The Fawn Instinct.

Pairing: Yandere!BatFam x Reader (DC).

Word Count: 5.0k.

TW: Implied Non/Con, Implied Dub/Con, Kidnapping, Prolonged Captivity, Social Isolation, Stalking, Obsessive Behavior, and No Actual Incest, But Boy If Those Freaks Aren't Trying. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

If it’d only been Bruce, you might’ve been able to live with it.

You didn’t love him, but you could imagine a world where you tried to. Most of it was circumstance; as upset as you were about the whole kidnapping thing, it wasn’t exactly a Herculean feat to endear yourself to the idea of being a handsome vigilante millionaire’s stay-at-home captive-spouse. You had no room in your heart for the stoic, reclusive, untouchable Bruce Wayne, but you could remember the adoration you’d once held for your masked hometown hero, the pride that’d once given you the force of will to all-but carry a half-conscious man in a torn cowl and a familiar suit into your apartment and lie to the cops when they came knocking. If the conditions had been different, if he’d spent a little more time as something more intimate than a stranger and a little less damning than a captor, then maybe, you could convince yourself to love him. Or, convince yourself to try, at least.

But, the conditions weren’t different, and you’d never quite had the time you would’ve needed to align Bruce Wayne with his more heroic alter ego. It’d been doomed from the start – Icarus jumping from his tower, already knowing his wings were destined to fall apart.

That aside, though, there was the more glaring issue: all his fucking kids.

Calling them kids might’ve been too generous, actually. Only Damian and Duke were younger than eighteen, and as far as you were concerned, they were your saving graces – Duke for meeting the bare minimum requirements for human decency and Damian for adamantly denying you were anything but an unwanted burden on his father. The rest were more-or-less adults, as little as you wanted to acknowledge the nonexistent age-gap between you and your gaggle of stepchildren. They were grown. They should’ve known better.

Tim, for example. He had to be… what? Nineteen? It wasn’t the pinnacle of maturity, sure, but he should’ve known you’d be able to hear your own sheets rustling through the bedroom door, should’ve assumed that you’d know he’d know Bruce would be out on patrol until sunrise. He should’ve known to wait until you were in another wing of the sprawling Wayne estate, somewhere far away from the master bedroom, or better yet, skipped rummaging through your things entirely. You knew better than to dream, though.

The door was still shut, but what was happening behind it and who was responsible were both foregone conclusions.  It was Tim, because of course it was Tim, and he going through your meager possessions, because what else would he wait until Bruce was gone to do? Cringing, you rested your shoulder against the steady wood and knocked gingerly. “…Drake? Are you in there?”

Immediately, the rustling stopped. You went on. “I think Bruce is out, if you need him. Is there something you’re trying to find?”

It was a good out. An easy out. Thankfully, he was smart enough to take the bait. A few seconds later, the door cracked, a disheveled Tim emerging with a dark blush spread over his pale cheeks and his hands shoved conspicuously deep into the pockets of his hoodie. It was a struggle not to roll your eyes. He couldn’t have been more obvious if he’d come out with his dick still in his hand.

Your cheeks ached as you put on your dozenth unstrained, unworried, everything’s-fine-because-why-wouldn’t-it-be smile of the day and moved aside to let him out. “I’ll let him know you were looking for him when he gets home,” you assured, like you couldn’t see the way his bright eyes were fixed to the carpeting. “I’m sorry I can’t be more help. You all are just so heroic – it’s still a little hard to believe I’m a part of this at all.”

“You’re perfect,” he muttered, and you pretended not to hear him, cocking your head to the side. When he corrected himself, his voice was a bit louder, a bit clearer. “Don’t worry, I… I found what I was looking for. You don’t have to bother Bruce.”

“Oh, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. He’s so proud of you and your siblings, after all – it’s practically all he talks about.” A lie, but a fair one to tell. There was no reason Tim should have to know Bruce spent the majority of your time alone with his teeth buried somewhere in your neck, muttering paranoid fantasies about how many different ways you could be killed, mutilated, or otherwise indisposed by the members of his rouges gallery. “Honestly, sometimes, it’s hard not to feel like I’ve been here for years, rather than just a couple of months.”

You only realized your mistake when those bright eyes shot to you, suddenly wide and blown out with desperation. A hand darted towards you, and you stumbled out of the way, but not quickly enough to avoid Tim’s vice-grip on your forearm, to spare yourself the feeling of something cold and wet sinking into your sleeve. “You’re leaving?” The words seemed to slur together, spilling out too quickly to be restrained or refined. “You can’t leave. Bruce won’t be able to handle it, and Steph, she’ll—I mean, security-wise, we won’t be able to make sure you’re—”

Internally, you were keeping up a steady mantra of ‘Thisissogrossthisissogrossthisissogross.’

Externally, by some miracle, your smile never wavered, only growing sweeter as you cut him off with a chirping laugh. “I’m not going anywhere,” you promised, and then, after a slight lapse, “Would you mind letting go of me? It’s—uh, it’s kind of starting to hurt.”

As if on a switch, he let go of you entirely, pulling away as abruptly as he lashed out. There was a mumbled ‘I’m sorry’, and he made a swift retreat, disappearing around the next corner before you could so much as think about bringing up Bruce, again. You watched him go, only letting your expression fall once you were sure he was out of sight.

Without further caution, you slipped into your bedroom, glazing over the mess of pulled-out drawers, overturned clothes and scattered dirty laundry in favor of falling into bed, rolling onto your chest, and screaming into your pillow as loudly and for as long as your lungs would allow.

~

You tried your best never to be alone. It was a little draining, to be honest – having to keep a running chart in the back of your mind of who you could trust and who you couldn’t, constantly trying to guess whether it’d be safer to be alone with someone or if you were better off taking your chances on your own – but you’d learned your lesson the first time you’d fallen asleep in the Wayne’s at-home movie theater and woken up to Cassandra spread over you like a human weighted blanket, staring unblinkingly at your face and playing half-consciously with your hair. You tried not to leave yourself unguarded, after that.

Alfred was your first choice, Barbra your second, with Bruce as a distant third. Sometimes, you could get away with loitering near Damian (something you hated nearly as much as he did – you could only stand to be addressed as his father’s “jezebel lover” so many times), but Bruce was at one of Damian’s school events, leaving them both conveniently unavailable, and Alfred would be locked inside of his underground shooting range for another hour and a half, an activity you knew better than to interrupt. Meaning, you were on your own.

Meaning, you’d picked a very bad time to need something to drink.

The kitchen was deathly quiet, but you still made an effort to keep your head on a swivel as you made your way carefully to a corner cabinet, like stepping on the wrong tile would trigger a pit trap, or a flurry of arrows, or one of another million terrible things you hadn’t thought were possible before Bruce dedicated himself so entirely to proving you wrong. Mentally, you reviewed your haphazardly assembled schedule as you fumbled with the wood paneling and reached for a mug from the highest shelf. Tim was definitely out, touring local colleges on Bruce’s behest, Step was supposed to be in class, and Dick—

Your fingertips made contact with cool ceramic half a second before another, larger palm wrapped around yours, a broad chest pressing into your back as your mug was stolen out of your hand. You didn’t have to look to know who it was.

And Dick was on bed rest with three broken ribs. Right. Of course.

You really shouldn’t have bothered leaving your room at all. Suddenly, dehydration didn’t sound like such a bad way to go.

“Let me get that, baby bird.” You cringed at the petname, but nodded, letting Dick confiscate your mug and with it, your ability to make a swift exit from a conversation you’d rather not have. “Green tea, right? I know it’s your favorite.”

“On the mark as always, Dick.” There was just enough enthusiasm in your voice to overshadow the despair. You waited until you heard the muted click of an electric kettle before turning around and settling against the counter. “I wish you wouldn’t dote on me, though. I already feel useless enough as it is.”

“Don’t sweat it, I’ve been going stir-crazy all week.” He flashed you a quick smile – tooth and beaming – before pulling open the silverware drawer and rummaging through it, like Alfred would keep his teabags with his cutlery. He was topless, wearing the same pair of black sweatpants he must’ve slept in. He didn’t plan to go out, clearly, and it wasn’t like you had much of an alternative. “This is just the basics, too. For a while there, I had your breakfast, lunch, and midnight snack preferences memorized.”

You forced yourself to smile, albeit, not as brightly as him. “…did you, now?”

“Mhm. B had us running in-person surveillance before he finally bit the bullet and brought you home, and—” He cut himself off with a sudden laugh, shaking his head. “And, I wasn’t supposed to tell you that part. Oops.”

Mercifully, the kettle whistled before you could start to consider the implications, and you reached behind you, fishing two bags out of a teacup-shaped jar. It was easy enough to edge him out of the way, but not having to worry about pretending he’d ever made himself a cup of tea meant he could devote more of his energy to talking, so you still managed to lose, in the end. “He’s stingier with the surveillance footage, now. I’ve never seen him so jealous.”

“He can definitely be a little overprotective.”

You tried to keep your tone even, polite, but Dick was like his siblings – quick to action and slow to take a hint. A hand curled around the counter next to you, and you dumped an extra spoonful of sugar into the darkening water. “It’s just us in the manor, right?”

Another spoonful, just to be safe. “I think Alfred is—”

“Out for the day. Wayne Enterprise emergency – I let him know as soon as he finished down in the range.” In your peripheral, you watched his other hand come to rest on your opposite side, caging you in. “I wouldn’t mind the company, if you were starting to get lonely.”

Another spoonful. It’d be too sweet to drink, but anything not to have to look at him. “I’m afraid wouldn’t be a lot of fun, Grayson. Honestly, I was just planning on getting a little sle—”

“That’s perfect,” he cut in, too eager to wait his turn. “I’m a great cuddler.”

You curled your hand around your mug, hoping the warmth would be enough to ground you. Instead, it only burnt your palm, and for a second, you could imagine a world where your teeth weren’t buried in the plush of your cheek, where you didn’t have to remind yourself that turning around and splashing boiling-hot water on an all-but superhero’s face wasn’t a good idea. For a second, you genuinely considered it.

And then, a sound not totally dissimilar to thunder filled the kitchen; loud enough to leave your ears ringing and your adrenaline spiked. You flinched into yourself, but it only took a moment for fear to shift to relief as you noticed the bullet lodged into the wood less than an inch from your head. Your expression lit up just as Dick’s fell.

Without waiting for him to let you go, you slipped away – sprinting across the kitchen and throwing yourself into Jason’s – brave, bold, beautiful Jason – chest. He caught you one hand and finished re-holstering his handgun with the other, laughing as you hugged him as tightly as you could manage. Dick huffed, playful offense failing to mask real agitation, and you felt Jason brace against you. “Jerk off and shut the fuck up, Oedipus.”

Dick’s smile turned uneasy. “It’s good to see you too, man.”

“I didn’t come here for you,” he snapped, as short-tempered with his siblings as you wished you could be. He looked down, holding you that much tighter. “How’s my best girl holding up?”

“I’m just fine, Jason. I do think we have to have a talk about how you treat your brother, though.” You glanced over your shoulder to Dick. “A little privacy? You really ought to be staying off your feet, too.”

Reluctantly, Dick slinked out of the kitchen, hesitant to go but eager to nurse his wounds. You only went on once you were sure he was gone.

“It’s been awful. I found another hidden camera in my bedroom, and I think Tim’s tapping my—”

“I’ll do a sweep.”

He let you go, but you caught his arm. “Please, I know it’s important, but—” You cut yourself off, swallowing. It was irrational – the way you let your guard down so quickly around Jason. The mask never slipped around anyone else, whether you were afraid of them or they were one of your rare, precious exceptions. Jason existed outside of the Wayne family, though, outside of Bruce’s corrupting influence. He wasn’t going to hurt you. More importantly, he wasn’t going to let anyone else hurt you, either.

“But I really don’t want to think about that, right now,” you finished. “Just… just for a little while, alright? I don’t want to constantly feel like I’m walking on eggshells, at least not while you’re here.”

Jason stood strong for all of three seconds. With the fourth, he sighed, buckled, and shook his head, his exasperation brimming with affection. “How long until Bruce gets home?”

“Six more hours. He’s not due to check-in for another three.”

“I’ve got my bike out front. How do you think he’d feel about a joy ride?”

And just like that, you lit up. “It’d give him a heart attack.”

Jason pulled you close, kissing the top of your head.

“Perfect.”

~

Unfortunately, Jason’s visits were few and far between. You had to find ways of fending for yourself, in the downtime.

“I miss the city.”

Bruce glanced over his shoulder, gaze flickering over you before returning to the buttons of his dress-shirt. You sunk that much deeper into the mess of sheets and pillows, taking some small amount of solace in the way the cool silk felt against your warm skin.

(Sex wasn’t something Bruce came to you for often, but when he did, you gave it to him willingly, albeit with no more enthusiasm than was absolutely necessary. You rarely enjoyed it and always regretted everything you did or said during the act, but it was better than the alternative. Part of you trusted him, trusted Batman, enough to believe that he’d take your refusal for what it was, that you wouldn’t have to say anything more than ‘no’. The remaining overwhelming majority was able to look around you, to remember the way he’d held you down as he forced a needle stocked with medical-grade sedatives into your throat, and recognize that your opinion probably didn’t mean very much to him. Still, you couldn’t let things get that bad. Even if you had to surrender every other facet of your being, you couldn’t let things get that bad.)

“You hated the city. You said your landlord was a tyrant and that even the criminals were living paycheck-to-paycheck.” And then, after a second of thought, “And that there were more rats in Gotham than people.”

“Well, he was, they are, and you know I love animals.” You pushed yourself up, keeping a sheet bunched against your chest as you slumped against the headboard. “I was tired and overworked – you could see that. But, things would be different if I was staying with, say, my wealthy trillionaire boyfriend in one of the penthouse apartments that I know he has because his youngest son got in trouble for bragging about them in school last week?”

Bringing up his kids was a dirty tactic – the fastest way to get Bruce’s undivided attention. This time, when his eyes shifted in your direction, they stayed there, and he made his way back to your side of the bed. He collapsed next to you and, with no resistance on your end, pulled you into his lap. He didn’t seem to care whether or not his immaculately tailored, freshly pressed suit was creased in the process, but you did your best not to squirm. “You want to leave the manor?”

The first half of a frown tugged at the corner of your lips. “That’s not what I—”

“Elevated pulse, avoidant eye-contact,” he muttered. “Something’s bothering you.”

It wasn’t a question. He wasn’t wrong, either, but still. You would’ve preferred to be asked.

“…it’s your family,” you admitted, feigning guilt. “They’re all—” Horny, depressed, creepy little orphans. “—great kids, but it’s just been so much so quickly, and I think it… I think it might’ve been too much too quickly. For them and for me.”

“They adore you, if that’s what you’re worried about. Dick was close to moving back in when I decided it was too dangerous to leave you to your own devices.”

You melted into his chest, sighing. Reflexively, he curled around you – a good thing, if a bit claustrophobic. Bruce liked feeling like a shield between you and harm, between you and the world he couldn’t control. Hopefully, eventually, he’d realize he had more to shield you from than greedy landlords and villains who always seemed to be just out of sight. “It’s not that easy. It’s just been such a rocky adjustment period, and…” You curled your hand around his wrist and squeezed, hoping the force would be enough to communicate what you couldn’t put a word to. “I’m really afraid something bad might happen, Bruce.”

For a moment, he seemed to consider it. There was a kiss to your shoulder, solemn and lingering, then another to your cheek, more fleeting. “I’ll talk to them. They’ll give you space, if they’re told to.”

If he told them to. You doubted you held much authority, here. “And the apartment in the city? On the highest floor, tall enough to see from Gotham to New York?”

Bruce smiled, and your heart soared.

Then, he started talking, and it crashed back down, dying upon impact. “Once I know it’s safe for you, sweetheart.”

There was another kiss, this one to the nape of your neck, then another, lower down on your spine. A calloused hand slipped underneath the sheet still hugged against your chest, and you allowed it to.

Honestly, it would’ve been kinder if he’d cut you into pieces and fed you to the wolves himself.

~

You made a run for it as soon as the arguing started.

Arguing, not yelling – the distinction was minor, but significant. Yelling would’ve meant an injury, or a mission gone wrong, or something else that signaled a sudden complication that couldn’t be smoothed over with sugar-sweet sentimentality or orders issues with an ice-cold strictness. Yelling would’ve meant Bruce didn’t mind letting you overhear, which usually meant you didn’t need to be involved. Arguing, all hushed whispers and hissed explanations and vague warnings, was different. Arguing meant, more often than not, that they were arguing about you.

It was Tim’s fault, as far as you could tell. Barbara had been the one to find the conspicuously encrypted file on one of Dick’s civilian devices, the one to mention it to Stephanie as a point of concern who went to Tim within the hour, but it was still his fault. He’d gotten Bruce involved, let his need for approval tip the tenuously balanced scales that kept his family whole and you safe. He’d talked them all into waiting until Dick was close enough to confront in-person, stopping by for his weekly equipment pick-up and check-in. He was the reason you’d gotten close enough to hear something about ‘pictures’ and ‘inappropriate use of reconnaissance material’ before fleeing to the mansion’s foyer – the only part of the house you could be sure wasn’t occupied. If you were lucky, you’d only be there for half an hour or so, enough time for them to compromise on some non-solution and return to your carefully maintained status quo. If you weren’t, you’d spend the early hours of the morning—

Something small but forceful hit the nearest window, shortly followed by another projectile, then another. The glass was too thick and the world outside too dark to make anything out, but you didn’t need to see anything to know who’d come to your rescue.

Jason.

You rushed to the door, then hesitated. Jason would only get a slap on the wrist for luring you out of the estate, and Bruce could never bring himself to be that strict with you, but now might’ve been a bad time. Tensions were already running high. Your little disappearing act wouldn’t—

A sudden rush of footsteps clattering through the ceiling from the floor above you, hushed voices raised just to the point of audibility. None of it was entirely coherent, but Dick’s came the closest. You managed to make out a half-choked “If you’d just let me—” before someone cut him off.

With your better judgement reduced to buzzing static, you pried open the closer of a pair of huge, mahogany doors and slipped out of the estate entirely.

Of course, Jason was waiting outside, a small stock of pebbles still in his left hand and, of course, you threw yourself at him, letting him catch and spin you twice before setting you back onto your feet with an airy laugh. A pitch-black sports car was waiting at the end of the driveway, the engine purring loudly enough to drown the rest of the world out. “Rough night?”

“You have no fucking idea,” you muttered, breathless. “I don’t care where we go, just get me out of here.”

There was a reason Jason was your favorite. There was no argument, no prying, just his arm around your waist as he herded you into the passenger seat. Fifteen minutes and a little over fifty miles later, the mansion was little more than a dull glow on the horizon, and you could pretend you’d stopped thinking about Bruce entirely.

There was no effort to make conversation, as bad as you felt about pulling Jason into your prolonged tryst with self-pity. Instead, you sunk into the leather of his seat and fixed your gaze on the passing landscape, clinging to any detail you were able to latch onto as it flew by. It was possible, between the subways and boarded-over windows and perpetually overcast skies, to go days without seeing the sun in Gotham. Still, your life had felt brighter there than it ever did in Bruce’s estate.

Jason turned down a road you didn’t recognize, and you managed to find your voice. “Are we going into the city?”

“Even better.” He flashed you a smile, the engine purring as he accelerated. “You’ll like it, I promise. Just sit tight.”

As if you had much of a choice.

Road gave way to forest, forest to empty plains, and empty plains to the dilapidated remains of what you could only label as a long-abandoned amusement park – like Disney World if there’d been some terrible, possibly nuclear accident followed by twenty or so years of absolute neglect. Jason’s car glided past the rusted remains of an iron gate, past the corpses of rides buckled under their own weight, and came to a stop in front of a paint-stripped merry-go-round almost entirely sheeted be vines and weeds and overgrowth. You let out a low whistle as he threw the gear shift into park and, for the first time in any vehicle you’d ever shared with him, pulled his keys out of the ignition. He’d always left the engine running while visiting the mansion, but then again, you’d always been pretty eager to make a hasty escape, too.

“I love it, Jason. I’ve always wanted to get tetanus from a broken down carnival.”

“A fair, actually,” he corrected, slipping his keys into his jacket pocket. Like he expected you to try and steal them while his back was turned, or something. “My parents used to take me here, before I met B. There weren’t a lot of Ferris wheels after that.”

There was a short lapse, the sound of lips moving against teeth. You made the mistake of humming, of glancing over to him, of leaving yourself open for another question, and Jason, as nice as he was, was more than happy to take advantage of you. “So, when did you and B start…”

He trailed off, drumming his fingers against the wheel. You filled in the rest with a breathy chuckle. “When did I start sleeping with your dad?”

He jabbed an elbow into your side. “First of all, you can admit you’re fucking him or call him my dad, but you’ve gotta pick one.” You opened your mouth, already ready to spit out some dumb joke about what Bruce would’ve preferred to be called, but Jason cut in, sniping your stupid joke out of the air. “Secondly, answer the question. I get enough of your diversions back at home.”

“Being a buzzkill must run in family,” you sighed, but gave in quickly enough. “It happened once before the whole kidnapping thing, when he was staying at my apartment and sleeping off a broken leg. I hadn’t even seen him without his mask on at that point, but I figured it was a sign – destiny, or something.” You did your best to smile, slumping against the door. “It was dumb. He gave me a couple weeks after bringing me to the estate, mostly because of the crying and stuff, but things started up again pretty quickly.”

“Do you… like it?”

“Do you like asking about your dad’s sex life?” He flinched back, and laughing, you went on. “I guess I don’t care. There’s not a lot else to do.” You swallowed. “Would it matter if I didn’t?”

For someone with so many questions, he didn’t leave a lot of time for yours, the hypocrite. Moving on swiftly, he asked, “And the others, have they…?”

“No.” And then, after a beat, “Not yet.”

He seemed to relax, at that. His back was still straight, his shoulders still squared, but his grip on the wheel loosened, his jaw unclenching ever so slightly. You tried the handle – locked. Obviously. As if you’d ever get that lucky.

His voice was soft, sweet. The kind of tone you’d use on a child, or an animal, or a doll. “This would probably be easier in the backseat, right?”

“Let me out.”

“So you can go where,baby? It’s just us out here.” He laughed, resting a hand on your thigh. You slammed your shoulder into the door. It didn’t budge. “Hey, hey, this doesn’t need to get rough. I’m not going to be like Dick. The others – they’ll do it wrong, treat you like a cut of meat they have to get to before anybody else. I just need to make sure you get out of this in one piece.”

Nails embedded in leather, body crammed as far from him as you could force it be. You weren’t hyperventilating, but only because you’d stopped breathing entirely. “Let me out, Jason.”

“I love the way you say my name. It’s pretty, and delicate – just like you.” He sighed, shook his head. “I know you don’t get it, but I’m just trying to take care of you, like you’ve been taking care of me for the past few—”

“Stop acting like I’m your mom.” A sob fractured the final syllable, another bubbling up from deep in your chest a moment later. Your body was beyond the point of rationality, but the soft, preservational part of your mind wasn’t so beyond the point of seeking refuge. There was a way out of this, as ghoulish as it seemed. You couldn’t stop it from happening, but you could make it better. You’d regret it in an hour, when it came time to explain yourself to Bruce, but what happened in an hour didn’t matter, not if you couldn’t survive the next few minutes.

You might’ve done it, too – or, you might’ve tried, at least. You wanted to. You planned to. And yet, when you opened your mouth, there was only one thing you could seem to say. “I don’t want to do this, Jason.”

His nails bit into your thigh, his smile easing at the corners. For a second, you almost thought he’d pull away. For a second, you almost thought he’d sigh, straighten back up, and admit this was all part of some cruel, unfunny joke that the two of you would remember fondly, later on.

Then, he laughed and leaned forward, lips brushing against the top of your head. You felt him speak before you heard his voice, but the cloying reverberation alone was enough to tell you that you would’ve been better off never saying anything at all.

“Welcome to the family, sweetheart.”

[deadsetobsessions]

“I ate paint once,” Danny nonchalantly threw out in the middle of game night.

The entire table stopped. Heads whipped towards Danny.

“Yeah, me too. Cardamom yellow was my favorite. Ugly as hell but the chemicals just tasted right.” Tim replied, using the distraction to nab some of Bruce’s money. Monopoly money, that is. Everyone’s heads snapped towards Tim, only Cass and Danny (who was part of the scheme) caught him cheating.

“Really? I think mine was those spray can blue cosmos paint. But that might have been more my thing for space than the actual taste.”

“WHY WERE YOU EATING PAINT?!” Dick asked, looking like he wanted to lunge over the table and shake Danny until he puked out paint. Bruce looked like he was about to have a heart attack.

“Yeah, what the fuck, Tim?” Jason snickered.

“In my defense,” Danny grinned. “I was left unsupervised. Also, Steph, you owe me $24 in rent.”

“Ugh! I’m almost out of money! Can’t you loan me some, Alfred?”

“I am sorry, Miss Stephanie, you are not qualified for another loan. In fact, one of your properties is about to be confiscated as per the collateral agreement.”

“Noooo!” Stephanie made dramatic dying noises.

“What was your excuse, Timothy?” Damian asked, eyes glued to the board and determined to win the game.

“Hey, I was probably less supervised than Danny was.”

“Yeah,” Danny perked up. “My parents brought us down to their lab all of the time. Taught us a lot of stuff.”

“Really? Like what?” Duke asked, casually slapping away Tim’s sneaky hands.

“Oh, like what a rocket launcher sounded like up close! And how to build a laser gun! Oh! And what human organs looked like when they’re fresh!” Danny chirped, collecting his money from a stunned Stephanie’s hands. He looked up.

“Oh, don’t worry! I at least learned what not to do when it comes to lab safety. And we wore hazmat suits to protect ourselves from the radiation.” Danny smiled in a ditzy fashion as the table fell silent in a horrified manner. Cass tapped his arm amusedly, but allowed his bullshit to stand. After all, it’s not like he lied.

“Radiation?” Duck’s voice raised a couple of octaves. Oh yeah, Danny’s going to laugh about that pitch for a long while.

“Organs?!” Jason’s hands closed around the plastic house he was holding rather forcefully.

“Do you even know what basic lab safety practices are, Danny?” Damian demanded, finally looking up with brows furrowed. He rolled the dice and grabbed a mystery card. He gets $100 from Alfred.

“How old were you??” Duke asked.

“Like… 8, when they first brought me in?”

“Eight.” Bruce rumbled, slipping into a more Batman like persona. When Danny sent him a confused look, Bruce straightened back into his Bruce persona. “Wow, they must have trusted you a lot!”

“Sure?”

“What were their names again?” Stephanie asked sweetly, Cass nodding at him.

“Jack and Maddie Fenton.” Not that they’ll find them here, considering his parents are dead and in another universe.

“Cool, cool, cool!” Stephanie blinked, beaming as her hands formed lethal fists underneath the table.

Danny blinked and tilted his head in an unassuming way, pretending like he had no idea what Stephanie was thinking of. He sneakily handed over $600 to Cass in order to complete his monopoly on his side of the board.

Danny stood up and spread his hands out, one hand clutching his new found victory.

"Well, lady and gents, you've all been floundering against the inevitable tide of capitalism. I am here, as a reminder that you can never win against the hopelessness that will be your financial ruin! I, Danny Fenton, have obtained a quarter of the board and therefore have won against even your best efforts!" He cackled, holding up his fan of properties triumphantly. He shot a mischievous grin at Cass, who held up a solemn thumbs up in support for his monetary takeover.

"... Danny, are you... planning on a career in villainy?" Bruce asked, after a brief and total wave of shocked silence. Damian looked like he was having a conniption at having been bested, unknowingly. Yeah, Danny was disarming like that.

"Yeah, that was concerning." Tim piped up, nabbing a ten from a shell-shocked Damian.

"Hey! The Riddler gives surprisingly good monologues! And he's really loud, so it's hard not to pick up on things. Duke, your turn." Danny sat back down, pouting. The villainy comment was a little too close to his fears.

"Damn it." Duke, who had rolled, landed smack middle of Danny's territory. He handed over a sheaf of bills to a grinning Danny.

"Wait a minute! You have cheated!" Damian bolted upwards from his seat, finally done running through the purchases he remembered Danny making. "You acquired that property not within the games' rules!"

"Okay, first of all, the rule book is a suggestion, like lab safety rules," Danny saw the others open their mouths to protest, but he quickly shut it down. "Second, there's totally no rules about selling and buying places from a private owner so suck on it. And thirdly? Cass sold it to me, so you all can take it up with her."

"Diabolical!" Damian muttered indignantly.

"... Dammit." Dick sighed, falling back into the chair and balancing on its two legs. He couldn't say anything, considering his current of bankruptcy.

"Danny. Danny, I'll buy a property from you." Jason said, eyeing one of Danny's other properties near his own cluster.

"What do you have that would interest me?" Danny asked, falling back into his Vlad-like imitation.

"Ew, don't do that," Steph reached over to jab him in the arm.

"Yeah, Jason, what do you have?" Duke said, the lovely subtle instigator that he is.

"Red Hood's signature."

The others blue-screen, gaping at the actual audacity Jason had to offer up something that would take him no effort. Danny, prepared with a poker face that came with lying straight to Jazz's ever perceptive eyes about whether he nabbed the last of her ice cream or not, was prepared.

"Red Hood? The condom guy working out of the... um. Upper East Side?" Danny asked, pretending to hesitate. He knows where Jason operated. That doesn't mean he couldn't simply pretend otherwise. For science, of course.

...

...

...

The table howled with laughter, Jason's indignant spluttering unable to say anything against Danny's wide eyed look of innocence. Cass leaned against the table, chuckles falling out of her mouth and eyes crinkled in mirth. Dick had fallen out of his chair, helplessly wheezing on the floor. Duke is hiding his face in his hands, mirroring Bruce's pose as they both shake from silent laughter. Damian is smirking, wicked and sharp as he smugly stared at Jason. Stephanie and Tim are leaning against each other, repeating "the CONDOM GUY" in alternating and increasingly louder voices. Alfred had a smile on his face and a tight grip on the bills in front of him that betrayed his amusement.

"He's a crime lord!" Jason exclaimed, indignant.

"Uh, okay. Well, I mean, why would I want a crime lord's signature? I don't want to be on his radar. Or echolocation or whatever. He's... a Bat, right? That's what you guys call that group, yeah?"

"How do you know the Rogues better than the vigilantes?!" Jason glared at his unhelpful family. Those assholes better prepare for a load of rubber bullets the next time they're on patrol near Crime Alley.

"Hey, it's not my fault the vigilantes here are unsociable. Maybe if they monologued more, I'd know who they are."

"Wouldn't- wouldn't that make them more villain like?" Tim asked, stuttering from his laughter.

"I dunno?" Danny replied, enjoying his the family's unabashed joy. "I mean, they're pretty legit and they help people already so I guess they don't need to be sociable... but still I swear I haven't heard anything about Batman other than that he grunts and is mean towards criminals."

Is mean towards criminals, Duke mouthed at a recovering Dick who was in the process of heaving himself back up. It sent him careening back down to the floor with restrained giggles. Cass tapped Danny, reminding him to eat some food.

"Tt. Of course not. They're efficient at their jobs and have no need to be seen as welcoming to criminals." Damian puffed up.

"Yeah, but they've gotta feel safe, right?" Danny shrugged as he plucked a cookie from the cookie platter. "The... one with the sword, what was it?"

"Robin." Damian supplied, eyes narrowed and trained on him.

"Yeah, the baby bird. The kids think his swords are cool so they trust him. But like, the others? The flippy blue one? Not so much."

"Wait," Dick said from the floor. "They don't trust Nightwing?"

"Nah, they trust him to protect them, but he has a history of bringing the kids to the police, you know?"

"What's wrong with that?"

Danny shrugged. "ACAB. But also because everybody knows that half the guys in the GCPD and CPS are child traffickers."

"Wait, what?" Jason and Tim straightened.

Bruce piped in, the emotional whiplash of amusement to concern to amusement to concern visibly making itself known on the man's baffled face. "I thought Batman and Commissioner Gordon took care of that?"

"Sure, the obvious ones." Danny hesitated. Well, he's pretty sure they think he's a meta so... "There's... a meta trafficking ring that they're a part of. That's. That's kind of what I was running from."

Danny looked up pleadingly. Cass placed a hand on his arm in comfort, not knowing that he was fibbing about running from them.

Danny was on the streets helping his own Alley metas to run from them.

Danny is as feral as she was, and that meant he could hide just as much as she could read off of him. Cass was the best and he felt kind of bad about lying to her, successfully or not.

"Uh. Some people said you know Batman, Bruce. I know- uh, that might not be the case but if you do, could you ask him to look into it?" Danny made his eyes tear up. "And maybe he wouldn't care about me much, I mean, I know he doesn't really like metas but if he helps out, I could totally like, leave the city once the kids are safe, promise."

Ooh, Danny put a little too much sincerity into that. He could practically hear the hearts breaking in the game room as everyone glared at Bruce.

"You won't have to leave."

"... Promise?" And Danny's voice was a little too desperate, too hopeful, because Bruce's eyes tugged down in sadness.

"Promise." He rumbled, all Bruce Wayne and all Batman. Danny's core warmed. Danny also saw the rest of the family's faces darken in pure agreement. And partial wrath.

"Yeah! We'll kick Batman's ass if he even thought about kicking you out!" Stephanie proclaimed.

"He's far more proficient in combat than you are, Brown." Damian immediately leapt to Batman's defense and that was that.

Well, later, as Danny was "sleeping" and Phantom was hovering in the cave, invisible and intangible, he got confirmation that his Alley meta kids were going to be safe, soon.

After all, the entire Batclan was suiting up and baying for blood, with Oracle's all encompassing presence behind them, fingers reaching for their enemies' weak points.

[caffeinatedvigilantewriter]

“And it’s an emergency?” Bruce asked her, brow furrowing in concern.

Dani tapped her foot. “Yes. I need to leave now.”

Bruce sighed. “I’ll contact our pilot, but I can’t guarantee that he be able to fly you to Illinois last minute.”

Dani smiled weakly, “Thanks Bruce.” She said as she walked out the door, running into Damian.

“Where are you going?” He demanded, Jerry the Turkey trailing behind him.

“There’s a family emergency I need to go to.” Dani explained, ruffling his hair, grinning when he squwaked and hit her hand away.

“When will you return?”

Dani hesitated, smiling fading, before she looked in Damian’s eye and forced a grin.

“That depends. But I’ll be back, you don’t need to worry.”

The study door opened, and Bruce poked his head out, phone in hand. “Dani, the plane will be ready right after dinner at the soonest. Where exactly are you going?”

“Amity Park, Illinois.”

~

Danielle’s ‘minor family emergency’ was a huge lie.

Damian saw her smile dim and her hands shake as she told him she would be back.

Danielle was in danger, he didn’t need Leauge training to be able to tell.

That dinner, Danielle’s suitcase and bag was right next to her chair as she ate, looking very distracted.

“Woah!” Duke yelped as he tripped over the bag, stabilizing himself on the wall. “What’s the bag for?”

“Sorry, I’m going to Illinois after dinner. Family emergency.” Dani sheepishly, kicked the bag under the table and out of the way, smiling apologetically at Duke.

“Family emergency? But I thought…” Duke trailed off awkwardly. He didn’t need to finish his sentence for everyone to know what he trying to say.

Dani shrugged but didn’t give them an answer.

Duke, Damian’s nd Bruce locked eyes with each other and shared a minuscule nod. They would be investigating in the cave that night.

“Ok, I’m heading out!” Dani said, giving each of them a hug that lasted longer than usual, as if she was leaving for the last time.

~

Dani’s flight was around 2 hours, and the only sound that was in The luxury cabin was the sound of her foot tapping.

She apologized to the pilot for the last minute notice, but he waved her off with a smile. Dani tipped him a couple hundred anyway.

The airfield was pretty far, so Dani called an ride to pick her up.

While she waited, she checked Danny’s message from this morning.

Prototype: Dani we need you in Amity

Protoype: The GIW are acting funny

“Tt. When is the car arriving?”

Dani froze, whipping her head around to see Damian holding a duffel bag and staring at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Uh-what? Damian?” Dani stammered in surprise, before she got angry. “Damian Thomas Wayne, why and how the hell are you here?”

Damian rolled his eyes. “I snuck on the plane and followed you, of course.”

Dani’s eye twitched and Damian got the feeling that this was a bad idea.

There was a long silence before Dani dragged him to the wall and whispered to him, “Damian, I have a reason for you guys not to come. A good reason. So you need to get a plane back to Gotham before it’s too late.”

Damian shook his head. “The pilots gone. And it is too late to catch another flight.”

Dani groaned, but was interrupted by her phone vibrating in her pocket.

She pulled it out and cursed as she read the message.

Dr.Jazz: Dani the GIW is closing down airports

Dr.Jazz: Nobody can get out or in

Dr.Jazz: are you here yet?

Fenton 2.0: I’m here

Fenton 2.0: with an unexpected guest

Her phone binged again, and she snapped her fingers to get Damian’s attention away from his phone- which he had pulled out when Jazz messaged her.

“Our ride is here.” She said curtly, picking up her bags and walking outside the terminal.

Dash Baxter was leaning against his car, searching the crowd. He caught sight of Dani and Damian, giving the younger girl a nod and the tween a raised eyebrow.

“You guys are lucky you got here when you did. The guys in white just closed everything down.” Dash said as he loaded their luggage into the back of his car.

Dani opened the backseat door and let Damian climb in before sitting down after him.

“What’s going on, Dash? Danny hasn’t been replying to my messages and Jazz is being extremely vague.”

Dash started the car and pulled into the freeway.

“Can’t go into detail. Too many cameras. We’re probably being followed.” Dash looked at Damon through the rewrite mirror. “Whos the tyke?”

“Damian. Damian Wayne.” Damian said as he wrinkled his nose.

“Dash Baxter. How’d you get caught up with the Waynes, Dani?”

“Bruce is fostering me. We just haven’t made an official announcement yet.”

Dash let out a whistle. “Nice. I won’t be able to drop you at the FentonWorks Lab, but Star and Paulina wanted to talk to you out anyway.”

Dash pulled into the park, and helped Dani and Damian with their bags before driving off.

There were GIW agents setting up cameras all around the park, in trees, lamp post, and they were even shoving warrants in the faces of home owners and setting cameras on their property.

Around 2/3 of the town was in the park, watching the GIW and talking in hushed tones. They all turned to stare at Dani and Damian as they walked through.

“Why are they stareing at you?” Damian asked, glaring at a boy his age, who squeaked and sprinted away.

“Because my family is rather well known.” Dani glanced at Damian. “And I have a Wayne with me.”

“Dani.”

They turned around to see two girls, one Latina dressed in pink and one blonde with large blue eyes.

“Paulina. Star. How’ve you been?” Dani smiled at them.

Star smiled at her, but it wasn’t real and plastic looking.

“I’m doing great. A little ghosty told me that the Fentons are waiting for you and Damian at the FentonWorks Lab.” Star eyed Damian with a curious eye and peered at Dani through her lashes.

“Don’t you think it’ll be to dangerous for the kid?” Paulina asked, ignoring the way Damian bristled at being called a kid.

Dani’s eye sharperned as she places a hand on Damian’s shoulder. “We have no choice. The GIW closed down the airport. He’ll have to learn how to survive.”

The girls faltered.

“W-what? But my dad is in New York! He..” Paulina stammered, and Star was at her side in a second, comforting her.

Dani and Damian walked away, Danis hand still on his shoulder.

They walked for some time in silence, until Dani stopped them and pointed at a GIW agent.

“Wanna help?” At Damian’s nod she smirked and continued. “Let’s put your training to good use. What do you think they’re doing?”

“You knew?” Damian asked her.

“You guys aren’t the only vigilantes in my family.”

Damian nodded and turned away from her, observing the agents in white.

“They’re setting up cameras. And cold sensors.”

Dani’s lips twisted into a small smile. “The GIW are officially called the Ghost Investigation Ward, but we call them the Guys in White.”

Damian raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize there were other ghosts.”

Dani’s eyes flashed green as she grinned.

“Well, Damian, you have a lot to learn. But yes, there are other ghosts.”

Damain nodeded and glanced back toward the Agents.

“Tt. If they investigate ghosts, why are they barricading the town?”

Dani’s face darkened and she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Damian, there’s a lot I don’t know. But I can tell you this:”

She whispered her next few words.

“It’s about to go from bad to worse. Brace yourself.”

[sistertotheknowitall]

Some Guy on Fear Gas (can apparently turn invisible)

Masterpost

“Danny was supposed to be in class today.”

There was a round of sighs in the coms. See Danny didn’t react in the same manner as the rest of the population when exposed to fear toxin (or in general, but they were mostly used to that). See Danny didn’t scream, he didn’t cry, he didn’t get violent. He got unnervingly paranoid.

He got so unnervingly paranoid about being watched, specifically by the government if the muttered and whispered words were to be believed. His eyes tracked nothing while he slowly moved around invisible people. It wasn't like dealing with someone in an active hallucination experiencing a psychotic break. It was like dealing with someone in a paranoid delusion. He wouldn't let any of the bats near him and often took off, disappearing into the chaos.

Four months into seeing this kid everywhere and their suspicions were confirmed when he literally disappeared after the second time being poisoned.

Danny was a meta and he was afraid.

That’s not the reason for the exasperation felt by this family though. It was what always happened after. The first time he ignored every vigilantly when they tried to bring it up. After the second time he attempted to avoid everyone, extended family included.

(He had asked Kate if she was also Batman’s kid. “More like their aunt.” “Oh okay so it really is a family business. Like that show Unnatural. You don't happen to have also lost your parents at a relatively young age and now go on to fight a dark presence in their honor, do you?.” Kate had stared passively at him, the others had warned her. “….. okay… are you more of a Zuko honor type?”)

However, it was like the universe conspired against Danny. Even Bruce agreed that there had to be some god or being doing this (nothing is ever a coincidence). They kinda felt bad for him. He was very obviously trying to avoid them and he was either really bad at being evasive or a deity was laugh at him. Once he had thrown himself behind a lamp pole smaller than himself and closed his eyes to avoid Stephanie.

(It was very awkward. He could turn invisible and knew they knew so why…..? She had politely continued past so not to embarrass the poor guy further. Cause this was embarrassing and they both knew it.)

Finally it was Duke who pulled them all out of limbo. He had come across Danny on the roof of another bank. A lesser known capital union closer to crime ally this time.

Danny hadn’t been avoiding Duke in the same manner as everyone else. He still stopped to give Duke food but he never spoke and he ran after. Duke thought it would be weird to chase him but it was also weird to turn around, have an orange shoved into his hands then watch his friend run away.

However, this time Danny didn’t run as Duke approached so Duke sat next to him. Pulling out a granola bar, he handed it to Danny, “that’s why you feed me all the time right? Cause you know how many calories we need as metas.”

Danny had laughed, “no actually, that was a bit that morphed into a habit. I just thought it was funny.”

“….what.”

“Don’t get me wrong, now that we’re friends I am more than happy to feed you but yeah. The first candy bar was a thank you and then the second time I thought ‘I have fruit.’”

“….. wow… okay.” There went his plan of empathizing. They sat in silence as Duke tried to reorganize his thoughts.

“I’m sorry for avoiding you all.” Duke turned his head to face Danny, who kept his eyes forward, “you know no one cares that you’re a meta.” “Obviously. It wasn’t the invisibility that I was upset about," Danny said.

“The muttering. The paranoia.” Danny grimaced and didn’t say anything.

“You don’t have to tell us till you’re ready, man. Just let us know if you need help. Please, are you safe?”

Danny nodded and Duke nodded back and they had both continued to sit. When they parted ways Danny handed Duke a small bag of chips.

Danny had apologized everyone one at a time even though they had heard it from Duke. Danny never explained nor did he want to talk about his it. His power of invisibility was also a subject off limits. All of them were worried but they didn’t want to force him to talk about it. They had to trust that he would one day feel comfortable doing so with any or all of them. (Still, it was hard seeing their friend so paranoid that he flinched back from them. )

Post Six

[fibretwo]

˚₊‧⁺⋆♱ Cure Fasting Boredom ⋆⁺‧₊˚

“Oh, I’m fasting, but I’m incredibly bored!!“ — so what I’m hearing is that you have nothing to do except eat? Or you eat when you’re bored..? Well, that needs to be fixed, but fear not, that will come with time. Keep fasting by the way, you’re doing great! So well in fact that I’ve actually compiled a list of things that you can do to keep yourself occupied!!

1. Make a playlist

2. Find some new music

3. Listen to music!

4. Take a shower

5. wash your hair

6. cut your hair?

7. dye your hair, even?

8. paint your nails

9. put on a perfume you barely wear

10. brush your teeth

11. put on some makeup

12. make a pinterest board of makeup looks and try them out!

13. wash your clothes

14. lay outfits on your bed and take photos/write them down

15. make some “for when i’m skinny outfits” and take photos/write them down

16. meditate

17. compile things that trigger you (YouTube Playlists, Pinterest boards, Screenshots of tumblr posts etc!!!)

18. Go for a walk

19. Walk to the supermarket and look at food (maybe i just like doing this)

20. walk to ur local train station and go to the mall OR!! walk to the mall (sorry if you live in buttfuck no where 😓)

21. journal!! prompts vvv

22. write down everything that’s keeping you going

23. write down all the things you want to eat when ur at ur ugw

24. write down your safe foods

25. write down your fear foods

26. write some triggers

27. write some thinspo quotes

28. reflect on yourself

29. get to know yourself

30. look at journalling prompts on pinterest

31. vent

32. brain dump

33. put lipstick on and cover a page in kisses

34. draw thinspo

35. draw an oc

36. try finding your art style if you don’t draw often

37. draw a scene you remember from your childhood

38. do a jigsaw puzzle

39. find a deck of cards and order them

40. study!!!

41. practice an instrument

42. look for jobs if your unemployed

43. go out with friends

44. talk to online friends

45. text ur irl friends

46. play minecraft

47. clean your room

48. de clutter draws & desks

49. make a thinspo board on pinterest

50. Make a pinterest board with all those facebook mom weight loss motivation quotes and things (they have a special place in my heart, okay?)

51. watch media that has characters w/ EDs in them. i recommend To The Bone (ofc), Skins (Cassie), Gossip Girls (Blair), Heathers (Heather Duke), Heartstopper (Charlie Spring)!!

52. find low calorie recipes

53. practice an instrument

54. contour your bones

55. write down rewards for when you reach another gw (eg, perfumes, new scales, new clothes, safe foods)

56. listen to some ED podcasts (i rlly like SciGuys Ep #201 and DRAMA MAMA Ep #32)

57. sometimes i watch swan liyah on YT

58. Make yourself some ice cold water

59. Fill up the ice cube tray (this is personal, i usually do this when i’m bored)

60. Commentary YouTubers 🙏

61. ED short films on YT

62. ED documentaries on YT

63. Quora ED stuff can be triggering too!!

64. Have a bath

65. De-clutter your phone

66. Get out there and reblog a whole bunch of stuff!

67. Duolingo

68. paint

69. haha 69… uh, read a book!

70. Stalk my ED Pinterest Account: https://pin.it/6IDHsH7jh

(it’s very cool i promise)

71. watch ED WIEIAD videos on youtube

72. look for different diets

73. watch cooking videos and save recipes for when your skinny

74. Make a playlist of workouts to try (reminder, you don’t have to work out when ur fasting<3)

75. write a letter to someone

76. practice your handwriting

77. Walk all the way to your local supermarket, get some gum and/or sugar free soda and walk back

78. hold a little fashion show for yourself

79. Listen to those songs you never got around to

80. Get into that artist you’ve never had time to get into

81. watch that show you’ve never started

82. Look into poetry

83. Write a poem

84. make a bookmark

85. draw one of your friends to give to them (no matter how poorly, it’s funnier when it’s bad)

86. Have a dance party, why tf not?

87. put beads on some of your shoelaces

88. Headphones up, eyes closed, laying on your bed blasting your favourite song. Just let yourself be surrounded by the music for a moment. It really helps your mood

89. Mess with spotify equalisers

90. Try some hairstyles out

91. straighten/curl your hair

92. watch a tim burton film

93. Watch a Studio Ghibili film (it helps to have an activity to do at the same time, like literally anything else on the list)

94. look at halloween costumes you can wear next halloween when your skinny

95. heal your inner child and watch a childhood show!!

96. sew something!

97. learn to sew? :)

98. make some jewellery

99. FRIENDSHIP BRACELETS!!

100. research a random topic (band backstories and mythology are my favourite!!!)

101. Look into the biology of a human digestive system (there’s a video of digestion we had to watch in school once that you can find on YT and it’s so gross and triggering)

102. look at mouldy pictures of food

103. watch time lapse videos of food decomposing

104. count loose change

105. burn your favourite candle because if not now the when?

will add more when i think of them! stay safe and do what feels right for you, don’t push yourself just stay disciplined

Take care <3

[affableramen]

asking them if they actually love you

fluffy angst, established relationships wriothesley, neuvillette, pantalone, capitano, dottore

Wriothesley

The duke was working at his desk in his private office when you walked in with no lively expression on your face. Wriothesley tore his eyes off from the cup of tea and saw you looking expressively exhausted.

“Wow, someone’s had a tough day”, he chuckled, “you look exhausted, babe.”

Ignoring his childish manner you asked him rather simply:

“Wrio, I have just one question. Do you even love me?”

Wriothesley choked on his tea.

“Love you? Of course I—I do.”

You did not have to question his frankness as Wriothesley has always been an explicitly blunt person. He would never lie in such occasions and certainly would tell you if he disliked something.

Having received his answer on the wobbly legs but with a contented smile, you lurked to his desk and hugged him from the side.

“Wrio, I’m just so tired and I’m in diiiire need of your cuddles.” You surprised him with a nice peck to his cheek.

Seeing you giving in to stress and overwhelmed all over Wriothesley could not help but started feeling upset too. He gently pulled your face close to him, his big gloved hand laid on your cheek in a loving way.

“Girl, someone has been working non-stop I see. Or should I say studying? M?”

He was clearly not happy with your sufferings. Being a workaholic himself Wriothesley knew how easy it is to overwhelm oneself. But he did not want this fate for you. Due to the sudden friction of you leaning to his chest to get sense of comfort, the work papers from Wriothesley’s desk had dropped onto the floor. You were lucky the ink remained still.

“Oops. Seems like you wanted to hug me so much you did not spare the poor sheets.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Wrio!”

“Ah, whatever.” He looked down indifferently. “Girl, I will not calm down until I make sure you’re in your bed, sleeping.”

“I’ll be fine. I can get home on my own.”

Wriothesley raised from his desk and discreetly walked you out of his office.

“I’m going to get you home and you’ll rest. That is unnegotiable.”

Neuvillette

Neuvillette was a closed, solitary man who experienced some difficulties when it came to relationship dynamics. Deep inside his heart he was, nonetheless, a pure romantic. He’d always come to your dates earlier, looking nothing but polished; and with incredibly serious (but polite) manner he would court you.

He was always a husband material and he let you know how important you are in his life any time he could. He was dedicated to you wholeheartedly, and even though at first time you were much scared off by his cold, aloof, professional-like appearance, later you found yourself falling in love with him too, until the both of you grew tightly attached to each other.

You knew you should not question or doubt his affections, but you had a terrible day and you only saw your world dark and hollow. It was when your shift ended that Neuvillette entered your office only to find you drowning in your work overtime. Or perhaps—no, it was your studies, your homework.

“Darling, were you doing your studies at work? I thought we’d agree that you would not overexert yourself.”

“I know…” you mumble, caffeine in you refusing to help anymore. “But at home I want to sleep. So when I finished my paperwork, I started doing my studies.”

“I see.” Neuvillette walked closely and took a look at your work sheets. “Dear, you have some mistakes here…But that’s not important now. I’ll give you a lift to home.”

You looked at Neuvillette bewildered.

“Home?”

“It’s evening already.”

“Neuvillette—” you asked him when he gently pulled you out from the desk by your hand. He gave you a surprised look. Judging by your face you were dead serious about asking something, so he kept quiet, letting you speak. “Do you like, love me?”

He was flustered at first, but only mildly. Neuvillette cleared his throat and adjusting his collar he answered with the equal seriousness:

“That I do. Why, have I made you doubt my affections?”

“No. I was just messing with you… I’m having a bad day.”

“I love you”, he said as if picking up your disappointed mood, he continued confessing to you in a frenzy: “I love you, I love you, I love you.” He smooched your cheek before leading you out of the office. “And I will make sure you won’t overwhelm yourself like today.”

Pantalone

“Do you even love me…” you wonder out loud, your chin laying on your arm as you’re doing the paper work.

“Love is a foolish concept for foolish people. It only softens your senses and makes you miserable. I cannot afford being miserable, vulnerable or weak”, Pantalone responds—his words a well-polished conviction he made himself believe in. Although, his looks is harsh on you and he states that in a rough manner, his gaze does not leave your exhausted image not for a moment of time.

Tired and exhausted, you are lying on the desk before the papers.

“So now you’re collapsing on my desk? Did no one teach you proper manners?” he inquires with a tone so ambiguous and indefinite that no one can truly guess if he’s fooling around or scolding you quite seriously.

“So you don’t”, you respond quietly. What were you even thinking… Of course a Harbinger—especially one of the oldest, probably no longer sensitive to feelings—Regrator would ever love you.

“There’s no point of me loving you, really. Love’s a poison, and I cannot let myself be poisoned, for there are many people who’d prefer me dead. I suffered too many assassination attempts to grow a sense of preservation in myself. Besides, where have you heard about love in business?” As always, the talkative man he is Pantalone would not stop blabbering a second. But seeing you close your eyes as he came closer, he whispered quietly, but audible enough for you to hear:

“I love you.”

Perhaps he did not even consider the words which slipped so fast from his lips. He wanted to cover his mouth shut to hide his embarrassment, but then he did not see a point in this.

“Thanks…” said the sleepy you, the next second falling asleep on the papers. “I … love you… too…”

“You’re an idiot. When will you stop mixing work and studies? Come, I’ll get you to bed.”

He gently pulled you into his arms and carried you through the dimly lit corridor. He placed you on your silky bed sheets, his hand moving to caress your cheek.

“You need to take better care of yourself. You can’t keep being so overwhelmed with both work and university. Now, sleep.”

He kisses your cheek, his lips linger for a few moments…

“I’m so exhausted.”

“I know. Sleep, my dear.”

He switched the lights off and slowly raised from the bed, afraid to do any friction that would tear you off from the sleepy state.

Capitano

“Capitano”, you called him from the middle of the living room, while you were studying near the fireplace.

He was just about to enter the room when you side eyed him and the familiar smell of spicy perfume seemed to fill the half of the air.

“Do you even love me, Capitano?”

He stood there, frozen at your question, not knowing what to respond because you usually would not have audacity to ask him something way too personal. It must have been a damn good reason for you to strike him so deeply.

“Hmph. What do you think?” He stopped in the frame of the entrance, his big arms crossed as he leaned onto the frame.

“I don't know, you tell me.” You did not tear your gaze of the book, as if taunting him. But he did not suspect that you were genuinely exhausted at that moment and sook to be comforted.

“Do you think I’d let you lurk in my house on weekends if I did not? Do you think I would ask my servants to prepare the finest meals for you, neatly accordingly to your allergies?” He grunts, unsatisfied and irritated. “Do you think I’d even let you talk to me so boldly if I did not want you by my side?”

You finally raised your head at him, leaving the book behind and gave him a satisfied but undoubtedly cunning smile.

“Capitano, my love, you’re so cute when you’re grumpy.”

“I just don't see a point in asking something so obvious.”

“You and your rational thinking. What if I just wanted to hear you sweet talking to me?”

Capitano was speechless. He knew how cunning you could be, but he did not even imagine that you would be taunting him so badly.

“I’ve had a difficult day. Too much studies, too little rest. I have not much time before exams so I am constantly stressing.”

“You don't have your deserved rest because you kept working even being a student. You need to choose one, woman.”

You sighed at Capitano. How many times did you have to explain to him?..

“I know, but I told you I want to have some cash of my own. I don't want to constantly ask you to buy something for me.”

“But your work kills you. You give so much effort for university, and you give as much to your work. This is unacceptable for your health.” His tone is cold with seriousness. You know he wouldn't change his mind just as you wouldn't change yours.

“Fine, perhaps I’ll work two days instead of three. But Capitano, stop standing there like a statue, sit down next to me. My mind is at peace when you are close.”

“Even if I am simply… sitting here? Doing nothing at all?”

“Even so. But I think you already know that you could hug me since I haven't seen you the whole day~.”

Dottore

“Do you even love me, Dottore?” you asked him plainly with no ceremonies. For a moment Dottore’s hand froze as he was holding the vial. He was standing there in his white medical gown as he mixed some fluids. After a few long moments he finally gave you an answer, his tone indifferent, but you could not see his expression behind the white safety mask.

“You know perfectly I only love science.”

“Guess I should have expected that ans—”

“But I love you. Perhaps, a little less than science, but I do. And I hope you know that”, he cleared his throat, “why’d you even ask that on the first place?”

You took a few steps closer to Dottore, silently lurking behind his back, fearing to ruin his test, but you could not escape his sharp senses.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing. Continue with your experiment.”

“Uh-huh.” Dottore finally poured the fluids and mixed them properly. When the experiment finished he took his gloves off and you quickly wrapped your arms around his waist before he could run away from you.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked, flustered enough to want his face hidden somewhere far from your eyes.

“I missed you, besides I’m very tired. If you don’t want to hug me back, then just stay like this and let me squeeze you.”

Nothing could express Dottore’s astonishment right now. He was most embarrassed, and he is not at all used to such extravagant signs of affections.

“Y/N you fool, careful with where you’re standing, my whole lab is not a playground.”

“I love you too, Dottore.” You delivered a peck to his cheek from behind. That action made Dottore boil immensely, and he finally turned around and leaned against his desk.

“Did something or someone upset you? You don’t usually act so rapidly.”

“Just a bad day in general. I’m exhausted and hungry too. But at least you told me you love me.”

Dottore sighed through teeth. He disliked a mere idea of you being stressed out. He wanted to cheer you up but his heart did not have capacity enough for much open affection.

“Okay, brat. How about we grab a dinner somewhere together? You wanna hot food?”

There were sudden sparkles in your eyes - the only offer from Dottore’s lips made you all shake with excitement and your frustration seemed to brush off.

“I would love to eat out with you right now, Dott.”

“Well in that case”, he glared at you and hissed, “let me finish my job properly. Wait in the vestibule.”

Grinning, you escaped his lab with fast pace, seeing Dottore roll his eyes at your childish excitement.

[risustravelogue]

Welcome, Little One

◐ summary ◑

It's the birth of your and his child.

◐ featuring ◑

Husband!Wriothesley, Husband!Alhaitham (separate), fem!reader

◐ tags & warnings ◑

Childbirth (DUH), fluffy fluff. A bit(?) self-indulgent. Wriothesley has a baby boy, while Alhaitham has a baby girl.

◐ a/n ◑

I think I'm having a baby fever.

🔗 AO3 | masterlist 🔗

If staring daggers into a blabbering businessman is counted as work, then the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide is currently busy.

Very busy.

To be fair, he has been waiting on news from the hospital regarding the birth of his child—your child.

You have been waiting for this little miracle for years now—it took you no small amount of convincing your husband to even start trying. And after he agreed to try, it took another one and a half years before you successfully got pregnant.

And now, the life both of you created together is about to arrive.

Alas, work called him while the two of you were waiting for the baby’s birth. The Iudex, with a heavy heart, had to take Wriothesley away from your side. Apparently, a businessman heard that the Duke is on the surface and demanded to meet in person today, else he’d cut off supplies to the Fortress.

So here the Duke is, having to listen to the man bragging about how he’s inheriting his father’s business and such. Wriothesley taps his feet onto the marble floor and clicks his tongue.

“Get to the point,” he growls. “I have little patience for your games. What do you want?”

The businessman replies with a sly grin. “Why, I only want to continue the arrangement between my business and yours!” he puffs. “I’ve heard that you are an adept businessman yourself, Your Grace. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be able to get so many Clockwork Mekas produced in a year. You must have—”

“Get. To. The point.”

“What I mean is—”

The door of the Iudex’s office suddenly swings open. Sedene comes in, shouting Wriothesley’s title while running.

“Calm down, Sedene,” Neuvillette shushes. “What is it?”

The Melusine turns to Wriothesley, gesturing with excitement.

”I got a call, Your Grace. Your wife—”

That’s all Wriothesley needs to hear. He stands up and runs out of the office, of the Palais Mermonia, all the way to the hospital downtown.

He arrives as you are ushered out in a wheelchair by a nurse, cradling a small, cloth-wrapped thing in your arms. His eyes widen when he realizes that you are holding a baby.

Your baby.

He whispers, then calls out your name. You lift your eyes, gaze meeting icy blue, and smile.

“Look, there’s Daddy,” you whisper to your newborn. Wriothesley slowly steps until he’s in front of you, and kneels on the floor to embrace his family.

“You have a baby boy,” you say to your husband, your smile widening. “Say hi.”

“Hi,” he coos. “Hi, baby. Daddy’s here.”

Wriothesley glances up to meet your gaze, and you can see tears welling up in his eyes. He leans in to give your lips a sweet kiss.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be by your side while you delivered,” he apologizes.

“Mm. No need for that, you know. All’s well,” you hum. He closes the distance between your lips again.

“I know. Thank you.”

Your husband gives his baby boy a kiss on the forehead. The baby yawns and coos, and a smile blooms on the Duke’s lips.

“I love you,” he says. “Both of you.”

It’s highly unusual to see the Acting Grand Sage pace around.

He’s usually sitting cross-legged, face buried in a book that has caught his attention, or behind his desk, lazily scribbling on official documents needing approval or review. Sure, he runs for morning exercise, but anxiously pacing around is definitely not his style.

Who can fault him, though? He’s waiting for his child to be born, after all.

Luckily, the two of you were able to rent your own room in the Bimarstan to wait for the baby’s arrival, so he doesn’t bother the other patients. You watch your husband pacing from beside your bed to the entrance of the room, pausing a second in front of the door as if he wants to leave, but he always comes back to your side to shoot a glare at your very pregnant belly—only to sigh and repeat the motions again.

“How are you feeling?” Alhaitham asks, finally.

“Still fine, love,” you say, holding back a chuckle. “I’m sure I’ll know when it starts.”

He frowns and huffs. His arms are folded in front of his chest, and he shifts his weight on his feet.

“I’m not ready,” he admits.

You smile, gesturing for him to take your hand. He obliges, intertwining his fingers with yours and squeezing tight. You pull him closer and give the back of his hand a peck.

“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” you say. “I believe in you.”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, but—”

Before he finishes speaking, you feel something flowing and your sheets getting wet.

“Uh, Haitham?”

“Yes?”

“I think my water just broke.”

—

Your screams reverberate in the delivery room. One of Alhaitham’s hands squeezes yours, while the other rests on your sweaty forehead. His expression is one of horror—he’s never heard you scream this loud. He’s read that childbirth is very painful for the mother, but seeing you undergo the experience is a truly harrowing thing.

“You can do this. I’m here,” he whispers, thumb caressing the back of your hand. “I’m here.”

You squeeze his hand and push with a pained groan. A baby’s cry echoes through the air.

“It’s a girl!” the doctor exclaims. “Congratulations!”

The nurses collectively sigh in relief. The doctor wipes down the baby and wraps her in a soft cloth, then puts her in your arms. You can feel your husband squeezing your hand even tighter as he looks down at his baby with a soft gaze.

“Oh,” he sighs. “I’m… a father now.”

The little girl opens her green eyes, and although she cannot see her parents yet, she smiles.

Alhaitham feels tears roll down his cheeks.

“She’s beautiful,” he breathes. He braves himself to caress his newborn daughter’s cheek.

She’s so soft.

A smile grows on your husband’s lips as he leans down to kiss the baby’s forehead.

“Hi, little one,” he whispers. “Welcome to the world.”

© @risustravelogue 2024 • FEEDING THIS WORK TO GENERATIVE AIs IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED. • do not repost. • reblogs are precious. • feel free to send an ask to suggest, chat, etc. 💖

[timmydraker]

On a seemingly random Tuesday night, a few members of the Bat Family are free to spend dinner at the manner.

Jason was benched by his fellow Outlaws for a nasty hit to his chest and got tired of Biz’s worrying even if it was appreciated at first.

Dick had been taking a small break after a particularly bad case with work that involved some hurt children and wanted to be back home.

Damian had only ever made threats to move about but the newley eighteen year old was still at home.

Tim had been using his free time while Kon and Cassie visited their families to visit his own while Bart and Barry dragged Wally on a bonding trip. The poor West boy had to miss out a concert of some sort.

Stephanie, Duke and Cass were all busy with a case and had pleaded with Bruce to take some time off because he was, quote, “Broodier than Hamlet”. He eventually relented when Barbie and Kate promised to keep an eye on them.

The group had decided to watch a movie instead of playing games, mainly because not games were banned, and settled on something that Tim paid no mind to.

The problem came that it was cold out and everyone insisted on having the fire as hot as it could go, but Tim naturally ran hot. Jason and Damian tended to get the coldest and while only Jason would complain, Damian could and would set anything he wanted on fire to get warm.

So, Tim didn’t complain and just said he was going to get changed.

He spent at least half an hour on one of the arm chairs by himself with his tablet playing RuneScape, when Dick inhaled so quickly everyone heard it.

Tim assumed it was something to do with the movie and didn’t turn, tapping away at his screen, completely ignorant to Dick’s quickly forming tears.

It was when Bruce also made a noise, this time a poorly pronounced ‘oh’ that he turned around, assuming it had to be a truely grand thing for Bruce to react so openly in the movie.

Instead he finds his foster father and brothers staring at him.

More specifically, his thighs.

Tim hadn’t realised his shorts would ride up and stop covering him to just above his knee and show the hundreds of scars littered over the outside and inside of his pale skin. They were mostly faded, but with the width of some of them they were always going to be visible, especially with the sheer amount.

Pulling his pant leg down, Tim doesn’t bother to hide a sympathetic wince and says, “Sorry, didn’t meant to show them. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

He looks away again, assuming that was that and trying to remind himself that it wasn’t his fault that people were upset by his scars, just like Black Canary told him.

Instead he hears a sob and turns back to find Bruce holding Dicks hand as his oldest brother sobs into his hand. He sees that Jason is seemingly fighting to not match him even with his wide eyes and Damian is staring at him with confusion.

Realisation finds Tim quickly, which makes sense considering he’s supposed to be the ‘smart Robin’.

“You didn’t know…”

Dick stands up, dropping Bruce’s hand and comes to kneel before Tim, holding onto his own hands like some kind of follower to a god, “Why? I- I don’t- why?”

The desperation in his voice makes Tim feel sick, and he looks around at the others for help because surely he had talked to at least one of them about it? He had been open with his friends, and he hadn’t exactly kept it a secret, but he did avoid showing them…

Tim moves to hold onto Dick in return, “I’m sorry, I thought you guys knew-… okay, look, I’ve got a two year clean streak and I’m in therapy, okay? I’m so sorry Dick, I just assumed you knew cause I use the shower in the cave with you guys and… I’m so sorry.”

There’s a silence for a moment as Dick drags him into his arms and squeezes him as tightly as he can, not even being careful like he usually would.

“I don’t understand.”

Damian’s voice sounds uncharacteristic in how small it is. He’s staring at Tim’s legs like he might be able to catch a glimpse of the scars in genuine confusion.

Bruce seemingly can’t speak and so Jason tries his best to explain to the youngest Wayne boy, “Look, bra-kid, some times when people aren’t doing to well they… they hurt themselves. Tim…”

Giving his brother a smile, Tim takes over as tears finally break away from Jason. Jason was always the most emotional and that’s evident in how he actually lets Bruce pull him into a side hug.

“Dami, you know how my parents kind of sucked?”

Damian makes a scoff noise, “I know they were incompetent, yes.”

Smiling, Tim continues as his eyes grow wet with the sound of his families cries, “Well, I really wanted to good for them but they had impossible standards. When I found I couldn’t reach them, I decided I needed punishment. So…” he takes a deep inhale and moves a hand to Dick’s head to comfort him as he finishes. “I started to cut myself.”

Damian doesn’t get wide eyes or anything, and Tim thinks it’s so much worse that there’s an image understanding in his little brothers eyes that show he sees that as completely logical.

But it is quickly overcome, his first thought always what he was raised with and quickly followed by the ideals he’s learnt and now values. He doesn’t cry either, but he does have a look of a pure heart break in his sweet little eyes.

Bruce finally comes over and pulls his two sons into a hug, adjusting to fit Jason in and saying nothing as Damian comes up behind Tim and leans his head against the others back.

Bruce asks other a few minutes of holding each other, “You said you haven’t for two years?”

Tim smiles once again and presses a kiss to his dad’s cheek. “Yeah. I learnt that family, real family like ours, would never want physical punishment, especially for something we can’t control. That’s not how loving people work.”

Damian moves to wrap his arms around Tim in their first ever hug and by all gods and mighty beings is Tim glad he stuck around.

Hugs from his family was well worth it.

[superbat-love]

Bruce savored his coffee, relishing the peace after a challenging night tackling increased crime spillover from Metropolis. It was a rare moment alone, away from the daily hustle and bustle of dealing with the kids.

“We’re back!” A loud, cheerful voice shattered the peace from the hallway. Bruce sighed, realizing his envisioned peaceful afternoon was short-lived. Nine little kids bounded through the front door. Wait…nine kids? Bruce did another quick headcount and confirmed that, no, it wasn’t a stress-induced hallucination—there was an additional kid who wasn’t there that morning when the group left for the fair.

As the kids walked past him towards the stairs, Bruce pulled off their caps and scanned their faces one by one to make sure. Dick, Jason, Barbara, Steph, Tim, Cass, Duke, Damian… Finally, he came across an unfamiliar face. The boy stared up at him. “Dad?” The kid launched himself towards him and hugged his thighs. “You’re back!”

Bruce gently extracted the kid from his legs and bent down to take a closer look at him. The boy’s forehead creased, his lips pouting and seemingly on the verge of tears. “You’re not my dad.”

“I don’t think so, kid,” said Bruce. “What’s your name?”

“This is Jon,” said Damian, locking arms with the boy.

“Jon,” Bruce repeated blankly.

“Jon recently lost his dad. We told him that’s okay, not everyone has parents, so he can come and live with us!” Dick said.

Bruce could feel an impending headache coming on. “Dick, you can’t just-” Bruce wanted to refute Dick’s words, but his brain was doing somersaults at the moment, so he gave up. “I’m sorry to hear that,” Bruce said instead to Jon. “How did you lose him?”

“My dad got hit by a green rock by a robot and fell off the mountain. I flew over it a few times, but I couldn’t find him! So I went to the fair to see if he was there,” said Jon.

Flew over the mountain? Green rock? There was only one person that Bruce could think of who could fly and had a weakness towards green rocks. “Is your dad Superman?” said Bruce, knowing and dreading the answer.

“Yeah!” Great, the one superhero whom Bruce had managed to avoid dealing with so far, who had suddenly gone missing since Sunday and was apparently passed out somewhere at the foot of a mountain. And whose kid his own children had kidnapped. Bruce’s day just kept getting better and better.

Superbat Family Fics

[feefivefoe]

Something I think about when it comes to the batfam is what if they remember reader after a long long time? I’m talking 10+ years after leaving the family. Like what would that be like? Reader wouldn’t be a young adult but someone who’s established themselves in a career and most likely moved out of Gotham, got themselves a somewhat better apartment or maybe a small house, maybe gone through therapy and has decided that they are indifferent about the families existence, to the point that reader forgets about them sometimes. Except Jason reader would probably light a candle every birthday and holiday for him

I feel like the angst potential would be like an aged wine. Bruce Wayne forgot about his first born child their entire life, plus 10 years. Maybe the only reason they remember is a Gotham exclusive on the family, a “where are they now?” type story and half the family (Steph, Cas, Damian, Duke) discover reader existed and the other half is reminded of the forgot part of their family. Oh the angst for Jason! His favorite sibling, his friend from before his death, how could he forget them?? How could Bruce forget them??? And oh god it’s been such a long time where are they?? The story said that they couldn’t find a record in Gotham anymore, are they dead? He let them be forgotten, something he couldn’t stand happening to him, and now here he is, perpetuating it. The fight this would cause!! I feel like the fam would turn on Bruce demanding answers that he doesn’t have. Jason goes to readers room and finds nothing. Maybe reader wanted to cover their tracks? Maybe they didn’t want any trace of them in a manor that never cared for them in the first place? Who knows, all the fam knows is that this building feels so much colder now with this revelation.

Meanwhile reader is getting dinner with friends and work colleagues, having a good and fulfilling life, one outside Gotham, outside of the depressing influence of the Wayne’s, rogues, and owls of Gotham (sorry for making this so long!! Hope you’re having a great day!! Love your work!)

No bc how dare you come into my askbox and drop the most beautiful ask I've seen while I'm sick and brain fogged /affectionate

No hate to anybody else who has sent asks, ily all, but this one HIT MY BRAIN SPASMS AKDMELAK-

BECAUSE YOU'RE SO RIGHT???

The longer it goes on, the worse the inevitable realization is for EVERYONE. Including reader. Because while there's no record of them legally, that's just because they're doing too poorly to have records.

Once you leave Gotham and start settling, you have legal documentation that you just need, you know, for life. Your ssn, birth certificate, etc. Documents that Bruce thought he had somewhere, only to find out you had requested them from Alfred when you left home.

Alfred, being the enabler he is and always hoping you'd reconnect with them one day, just gave you legal copies. Or illegal copies that are good enough to pass, idk how that stuff works.

Point is, they can find you.

BUT.

That's after they get past the emotional turmoil that the discovery puts them through. Imagine if one of them is watching the special for laughs, members of the family snickering at how fake and put together they all are on camera, elbowing each other at how prim and proper some of them are.

Then, near the ending, it cuts to a city far away from theirs. Not Bludhaven, which confuses them. The rest of them stayed, at least relatively close. So where-?

"Y/N L/N, formerly known as Y/N Wayne, has not been seen in the public eye for over a decade. While our reporters were unable to make contact, some still can't help but wonder on where this mysterious member of the beloved family-"

*Snap*

That's Jason, snapping the remote in half while staring at the screen.

Where...when...?

Half of them are confused. Three of them are starting to get a dawning realization.

Jason is having probably the biggest traumatic breakdown he's had since coming to terms with his death and resurrection.

Which town was that? Was that their actual home? Is that just stock footage? Did the reporter lie, did they find you? No, they would have shown that. Fucking vultures wouldn't keep the drama to themselves if they had the chance.

Those are thoughts that don't hit until later, honestly. He's too fucking furious to think coherently for a while.

He wants to scream at Bruce, and hit him, and Dick, and Tim, and fuck it, Alfred too a little. (Unfortunately, they probably have lost Alfred by now. The man was already old.)

He wants to both trash and treasure what's left of your room, small enough to make him feel cramped. It's the size of his old apartment bedroom! Fucking moneybags couldn't give his second ever child a better room than this???

There's no diary left behind, or anything that would bring any sense of closure. Actually, the only thing of note is a scattering of ancient newspaper articles badly taped up on the wall, mostly peeling or on the floor by now.

"BATMAN BESTS POLICE ONCE MORE- RIDDLER IN CUSTODY"

"WHAT WE KNOW ABOUT THE BOY WONDER"

"NO MORE JOKES - CLOWN IN CUSTODY"

"BATMAN'S NEWEST SIDEKICK? ROBIN REPLACED!"

"A NEW HERO? NIGHTWING DEBUTS!"

Them. It's articles about all of them. Their hero exploits, at least. None of them past his...expiration date. It looks like his death is what made you stop idolizing your family so much. Honestly, the paper is old enough to make it hard to read anything but the headlines.

There are a few sticky notes amidst the papers. Clumsy, childlike handwriting.

03/16/XXXX

Richard and Mister Wayne saved people from a bank! Bad guys almost blew em up. That's why they had to miss the concert!

07/30/XXXX

Jason couldn't have dinner because the Joker broke out, and they had to stop him again. Stay in jail! My brother is hungry!!!! >:(

XX/XX/XXXX

I hoped Richard was in town because of my birthday...I guess it was superhero stuff. But Jay remembers! Next year?

XX/XX/XXXX

Not next year :( I made a cake with Alfred instead. Gave some to Jay after he patrolled. Not as good as Alfred's yet, but he still ate it!

Notes you wrote to yourself. To hang up, to show you that even if they aren't there for you, your 'family' is full of good people. That they're doing important stuff, and that's why they can't be there for you.

As a child, you hung up a wall to show yourself why you weren't important. Why you didn't matter.

And Jason breaks.

[to-the-stars8]

The Waynes' Nanny

Batfamily and Reader/ Bruce Wayne x Reader Chapters Ao3

Runaways

You didn’t know how to explain to Mr. Wayne that his two sons, Jason and Duke, snuck out of the house in search of you. 

You had taken the day off to attend your friend’s wedding, which had been fun until your third drink. No sooner had you tipped the glass to your lips did a little old lady tap you on the shoulder saying that two young men were looking for you. Intrigued by the prospect of being sought out by handsome men, you followed her to an empty room. There, the boys were sitting and eating away at some cake. 

It took you a few moments to realize that they were there all by themselves, and all at once shock mixed with panic rushed through you. Once the relief of finding them alright had passed, you scolded them to the point that both boys were in near tears. Between long lectures you would pull them into hugs, saying how glad you were that they were alright.

“Oh, what were you thinking!” You exclaimed when you let them go. “You could have gotten lost or kidnapped. Mr. Wayne would have my head—Mr. Wayne! The man is going to have a stroke.”

When you went to find a phone, Duke burst into tears as he mumbled that he didn’t want to get into trouble. Jason, as he tried to comfort his brother, had started to cry, too. By the time you returned, the pair could hardly string a sentence along together without hyperventilating. Even when you assured them that everything would be okay, they still refused to calm down. You had hoped that maybe seeing their father would help them, but he had made the situation worse. Mr. Wayne had come barreling through the doors already demanding to know what had crossed their minds to do such a thing. 

“Don’t shout,” You snapped, stroking Jason’s hair and rubbing Duke’s back. “They already know they’re in trouble.”

“I’m sorry,” Jason gasped out between heavy breaths as he reached out for his father. Bruce didn’t let his anger stop him from pulling the boy into his arms, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. He pulled Duke from your arms toward him, mumbling to his boys that he was glad that they were safe. 

“I—I’m sorry, Dad,” Duke cried. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” 

You shushed him before suggesting to Mr. Wayne that the four of you go outside to the car lest curious guests look in. He seemed to quietly fight the idea at first, wanting an explanation no matter who watched but gave in at the sight of his poor boys. You carried Duke while Bruce carried Jason, who was looking over his father’s shoulder at you. 

There was little hassle getting them buckled into the car since Bruce had threatened them with an even bigger punishment if they didn't behave from that moment on. You knew he wouldn’t, but the threat had sounded real enough for them to comply. As soon as you began closing the car door Duke kicked his foot to stop it.  

Duke, weeping, said, “No! Stay!”

You had tried to explain that you couldn’t, that you needed to stay for the rest of your friend’s wedding, but they weren’t listening. Finally, you asked, “Why are you two acting this way? I was coming home later tonight!”

Jason, who was a bit more coherent, said, “Dick said you don’t love us, and you only spend time with us because you get paid.” 

You groaned, rolling your eyes as you shot a look over at Mr. Wayne. “Do you wanna have that talk with Richard when you get home, or would you rather it be me?” Bruce only sighed before turning his back to you and the boys. Shaking your head, you said, “I get paid to watch you kids, yes, but that does not mean I don't love you.” 

“Really?” Jason asked. 

You kissed his forehead and said, “Really.” Tugging at the buckles of the car seats, you made sure they were secure. “Be good for your Dad. You guys gave him quite a scare.”

“Okay,” They said in unison. 

Once the car door swung shut, you looked at Mr. Wayne with a coy smile. He only returned the light-hearted gesture by narrowing his eyes and frowning. 

“Don’t lie to my kids like that. I don’t want you hurting their feelings,” He said as he rounded the car to the driver’s side. 

“I wasn’t,” You tried to say, but he had already started the car. You didn’t know if it was the drink or your annoyance of his hot and cold temper towards you. It made you want to scream at him, to get him to stop shoving whatever feelings he had with having a nanny, and to say them to you outright. Instead of going to him, you decided to go back into the venue for another drink. 

You told yourself you hadn’t meant to drink as much as you did, but you couldn’t help it when the wedding was getting to be so much fun. The drama had gotten heated, the bar was endless, and it only doomed you from there. By the end of it, you were sober enough to call a cab yet not to walk in a straight line or not slur your words. When you returned to Wayne Manor you tried to be quiet getting in, but that only resulted in you running into the entranceway table. After skillfully saving a vase from toppling over, you began to remove your coat. 

“When did coats get to be so hard to take off,” You mumbled to yourself, trying to shrug off your jacket, but it had gotten caught on your purse. 

“Are you okay,” A voice asked. 

Jumping, you tried to whip around to see who it was but tripped on your own feet. Luckily, hands caught you before you could fall to the floor. Looking up, you noticed it was Mr. Wayne, and you loathed to see him. 

“I’m fine,” You said, standing straight. “Thank you.”

“You’re drunk,” He pointed out like you didn’t already know. You rolled your eyes before trying to get your coat off again, but you only ended up stumbling right into Mr. Wayne’s chest. Mumbling an apology, you started to try again before he told you to stop. Mr. Wayne then slowly took off your purse and took your coat, throwing them on the table. “Come on.”

You hadn’t expected him to loop an arm around your waist and help you up the stairs. He was kind about it, too, which left you even more confused. “I love the kids, you know.”

“What?” Mr. Wayne asked, his tone mixed with genuine confusion and irritation. 

You gulped. “Earlier you said not to lie about loving the kids, but I wasn’t lying.” 

He didn’t say anything at first, and you thought he would just leave it there. But, after you made it up to the first landing of the stairs, he said, “I know. It’s…I don’t want my kids getting hurt if things go bad. Do you understand?”

“I do,” You grumbled, swaying a bit. His grip tightened around your waist and he pulled you more into him. “You’re a good father. I’d like to have you as my dad.”

He managed a smile. “A lot of people would.”

You giggled before you hiccuped. When you looked back up at Mr. Wayne to see if he noticed, he was holding back a chuckle. You groaned, before saying, “I didn’t mean to come home this way.”

“Yes, you did,” He corrected and the two of you finally made it to the first floor. “But, don’t worry about it. You’re good at your job, and this isn’t an often occurrence.”

“Plus, it’s my day off,” You added. 

He agreed with you that it was, indeed, your day off. When the two of you had made it to your bedroom door, there was a brief pause as Mr. Wayne considered whether or not it would be appropriate for him to enter your room. After you failed to open the door, he decided that no harm would be done. You fell onto the bed before kicking off your heels with a satisfied groan. 

Bruce was going to leave you until you called out, “Mr. Wayne.” He stopped, kneeling over you as you spoke. Your eyes were closed and you were slurring through every word.“Are Duke and Jason okay?”

It was sweet that you still were concerned for them. “They were upset when they got their games taken away.”

“Jason will be fine. He never played games much.”

“That’s why I told him no new books for a month.” Bruce paused before adding, “I apologize for saying you didn’t love the kids.”

You opened your eyes and smiled. “Apology accepted, but just this once…We’re friends, you know? Even though you’re my boss. I won’t betray you. I pinky promise on my life. We’re in this together, old man.”

Bruce tried not to dwell too much on the old man part of your sentiment. “Thank you, Nan. I appreciate that.”

“Very good, Mr. Wayne,” You said. “Good night.”

He was going to take that as his cue to leave the conversation, but your drunken brain had other ideas. You were quick to lean up and peck him on the lips before he even had a chance to say goodnight. All at once he felt a range of emotions; confusion, surprise, and embarrassment. You were so nonchalant about the whole situation, probably not having realized it had happened, that you simply turned over to sleep. Quickly, Bruce used that as an excuse to not bring it up since you were more than likely not to remember it by the next morning. 

Right as he was going to step out the door, you called him back. He poked his head into your room again and felt his heart flush when you asked, “Did I just kiss you?”

For his sake and yours, he answered, “No.”

You hummed before dropping your head back onto the pillow. Closing the door, Bruce reminded himself that the last thing he needed to be doing was thinking about an employee in such a romantic way. 

[noisilyscreechingsong]

Tim and Danny are half-siblings

Champagne glasses shine in the light like jewelry on people’s wrists and necks and cuff links and literally anywhere else someone can fit. Honestly it’s giving Tim a headache.

Thankfully he wasn’t the only one suffering at this pointless gala. Not that the fundraiser for homeless kids in the city is pointless, but did they really need to throw an expensive party?

“You okay, Timmy? You’ve sighed like four times now,” Dick comments on the comms they all have in.

“Yea, I just-“

“Mr. Drake! How nice it is to see you again. Have you met my son, Daniel?”

Tim turns to find Vlad Masters, CEO of dalvco, dragging along a teen who looked like he would rather be anywhere else but here. The boy, Daniel, glares at the hand holding him by the arm.

“It’s Danny,” like it was the hundredth time saying the phrase.

Masters pretends he doesn’t hear it.

Tim is already working on how to get out of this conversation. He’s dealt with too many parents pushing their kids in his direction tonight.

He throws on a smile anyway and holds out his hand for a shake.

“Tim Drake-Wayne, nice to meet you, Danny.”

Danny hesitates for a second and it results in a tightening of the jaw and subtle glance to where he was glaring before as if Masters just tightened his grip on the teen. Tim says nothing about the awkward pause.

Danny shifts his weight to subtly step on Masters polish shoes, drawing the attention of the man and allowing Danny to slip a piece of paper into the handshake. Tim raises his eyebrows for Danny to see before falling back to pleasant neutral. He tucks the note into his pocket casually.

“Same.”

Tim’s smile becomes a bit more genuine at the teenage behavior.

“Now then,” Masters jumps in after getting himself situated, “I had been meaning to make an appointment with you, but every time I call you are always busy.”

Tim knew this was coming.

“I’m not receiving any calls about the Drake name, Mr. Masters, as you are well aware.”

“You would think that as a young businessman you would look to someone with more experience.”

He really wasn’t being subtle at all, was he?

“I wonder how Bruce would react if he heard you,” Tim warns even though he knows full well Bruce can actively hear the conversation. He turns to Danny while Masters is recovering from that reminder. “Our newest adoptee is about your age. Duke Thomas. He should be around here somewhere if you want to exchange numbers.”

Danny opens his mouth to reply, but is cut off. Masters’ hand goes from clenching the teen’s arm to squeezing his shoulder in what appears to be a warning.

“Oh no, I forgot to mention, Daniel’s entire family and his friends, along with an unfortunate teacher, all died recently in a terrible accident. I was given custody of the poor boy, of course. He’s like the son I never had. Anyway, we wouldn’t want to upset him by replacing what he recently lost, would we? He needs his space to grieve.”

The condescension with the insensitive wording left Tim speechless for a moment, and with the silence over the comms so were everyone else listening.

Tim finds Danny glaring down at the floor with clenched fists. The teen rips himself away from Masters, and when the man tries to chastise him, he turns and stares the man down with such a hateful expression that Tim had to keep from tensing. He had seen too many of those looks in the field, usually on the faces of those he was fighting.

Whatever silent conversation that was happening between the two was ended with Danny grinding his teeth and running away to what looks to be the direction of the restrooms.

“So sorry about him,” Masters apologizes like it wasn’t his fault Danny almost committed a crime. “He’s a bit sensitive right now. I honestly had hoped he would feel better after getting out of the house.”

Masters sighs almost theatrically, “Enough of that. Here is my business card for when you finally decide to-“

Tim walked away before he could finish.

It’s in the bathroom that he finds Duke talking to the door of one of the stalls. They make eye contact but all that’s there is concern and confusion. Danny wasn’t talking.

“Hey, Danny, right? How you holding up? That was kinda rough, huh?” Tim tries.

Silence. Then, “Did you read my note?” He hears come from the other side, small and thin.

Right. The note. Tim pulls it out of his pocket quickly.

“Yea, yea, I read your note,” he lies as he’s quietly unfolding said note. “It’s just, you know… oh.”

Duke raises his brows in surprise at Tim’s sudden change in tone and expression. Tim couldn’t even guess what his face was doing but it was the least of his worries. The younger leans in to read over his shoulder.

“Oh,” agrees Duke.

I think we are half-siblings. Please help me take him down. I’ll send DNA if you need it. It can’t wait.

Oh indeed.

“What does ‘oh’ mean?” Dick suddenly asks over the comms which Tim forgot were still in. “Guys, seriously, do I need to come in there?”

“No,” Tim answers quickly only to realize that Danny can hear it too. “Duke, can you cover the door?”

“Sure, man.”

Tim takes a deep breath and shoves his emotions way down. Danny was already upset and obviously trusting Tim with this, he needed to be a solid support that his little brother this teen can lean on.

It could also be a trap.

“Danny, can you come out please?”

There was hesitation in the air, but he finally hears the click of the lock and the door swings open. The poor kid was holding himself tightly and shrinking into himself, afraid of Tim’s reaction.

“Danny,” he says gently. Danny still flinches. “Why do you think we’re half-siblings?”

He lets the teen chew on his lip for a few moments before he has to repeat himself.

“I was going through my parent’s stuff,” Danny rushes out, “like paperwork and stuff… I found a box pushed way back with letters. At first I thought they were my parents’ old love letters, but it wasn’t my dad’s handwriting even though he signed it ‘Jack’. There was also a picture of my mom and your dad together on an excavation site. The date on the back made a lot of sense because when you add nine months, that’s my birthday.”

Danny looked at Tim with such a lost expression that Tim felt a bit lost himself.

“I never would have thought my dad would cheat on my mom. He was too afraid of what would happen if he did, I thought,” Tim says, leaning into it a little.

“Right? I never thought my mom would, my parents were infatuated with each other, but maybe they were having problems at the time? I don’t know, I didn’t actually read the letters.”

“Can I look through them?”

Danny blinks and then rubs the back of his neck anxiously.

“I mean, yea, but they’re back at my parent’s house in Illinois. I would have to find a way to send them to you, but Vlad is kinda watching my every move at the moment so-“

“What if I went alone?” Tim jumps in the suggest. “I have enough money to go on a mini vacation. I could sneak in when everyone’s asleep and find them.”

“Honestly I doubt it’s locked. You could just walk right in. If you don’t mind the wasted gas, then okay, sure. Need the address?”

Tim respects the confidence and trust.

“Nah, I got it, but I will still need that DNA sample.”

Danny swallows nervously.

“Right, um, what- what do you need? I don’t know how this works.”

Tim nods and a smile to calm the teen down. His nervousness was definitely noted though.

“That’s okay. I’ve done this plenty of times with women who claim their child is Bruce’s. Always ends the same.”

Funnily enough, Danny relaxes at the reassurance lined with warning.

“Oh, that’s good. Okay. Just tell me what you need. Can we do it right now?”

Danny glances at the door and Tim understands the rush.

“Sure, come here,” Tim waves them over to the little sitting area. He pulls out his pocket knife with a mischievous smirk. “Don’t tattle on me.”

Danny stares with a wide smile and even wider eyes. It’s kinda funny how excited he is when most people would wonder why Tim was pulling a knife on them. Maybe they were brothers.

“Whoa, how’d you sneak that in? There was a whole metal detector and everything,” Danny fans.

“A true magician never reveals his tricks,” he smiles at Danny’s pout.

“Lame. You probably paid off one of the waiters or something.”

He actually planted it in one of the plants inside before the event even started, but the kid was close.

“Or something.”

“I always wanted one,” Danny murmurs wistfully.

“I’ll get you one,” is out of his mouth before he knew it.

“What?” Danny jerks up in surprise. “No, you don’t have to do that. I wasn’t expecting-“

“I know,” Tim cuts off the guilty ramblings. “I want to. You should have one.”

“Aw, little Timmy is bonding with his brother,” Dick coos over the comms.

“We don’t know that for sure, Richard,” Damian reminds.

“He sounds pretty legit to me,” Duke adds.

Tim ignores them for the most part.

“Lift up your leg. I’m just gonna give you a small cut on your calf to get some blood. It’ll be quick, okay?”

“Okay.”

Danny doesn’t make a sound when metal meets skin and slices through. He presses down on the wound with his handkerchief to collect the blood. Of course that wasn’t enough for him to cover all the bases, so he asked Danny to spit in his empty champagne glass, which the teen complied with zero complaints.

“Is that it?” Danny asks curiously.

“Yep! I’ll run them down to the lab ASAP and compare against mine. I’ll let you know about the results when they come back. Let me get your phone number.”

Tim was quietly getting more hopeful with how cooperative Danny had been. He hands over his phone easily with a chirped “sure!” to also let Tim put in his number.

“We have to be careful though. Vlad’s been over my shoulder since I moved in. If he finds anything he doesn’t like, it won’t be good,” Danny laughed it off like that was normal.

Tim had suspected a heavy hand with the shoulder squeezing earlier bordering on abuse with what and how he said what he did, but it was looking worse than his original hypothesis.

“Danny,” he says softly, like when he talks to a victim as Robin. Which might ring true here and Tim was already getting angry about the whole thing, if the abuse is real, he might fly off the handle and Kon will be forced to reign him back in. “Do you want to tell me about Masters?”

Danny immediately goes on the defensive, looking around the empty room and shoulders going stiff.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Danny denies.

Tim isn’t surprised, but he also isn’t happy.

“I have more power than you might think, Danny. I can help you.”

Danny shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut.

“I don’t- You- It’s complicated.”

“Then explain it to me. Please trust me, Danny. I can help get you out-“

“This isn’t about me!”

His words ring off the tile, making it louder than intended. Danny flinches at the sound and looks to the door with anxious eyes.

“Hey,” Tim whispers. It still makes the teen jump. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”

“I know that,” Danny snaps, but Tim knows not to take it personally.

“Alright,” Tim agrees easily. That seems to make Danny relax a bit. “What did you mean it’s not about you? It’s your DNA we’re checking against mine.”

Danny bites his lip in anxious contemplation. Looks like Tim is gonna have to pull this one out like teeth.

“Is there someone else involved?”

Danny hesitates but finally nods.

“You can trust me, Danny. I won’t do anything that isn’t in your best interest. I promise.”

Danny’s lip is bleeding but neither of them say a word. He looks desperate and alone. It makes Tim’s skin crawl.

“Promise you won’t do anything yet?”

Tim nearly sighs with relief.

“Yes. I promise.”

“So you won’t tell? You can’t tell,” Danny insists.

Technically it wouldn’t be telling if they can hear him in real time.

“I promise I won’t do or say anything. Whatever is said here is confidential, alright? I won’t tell anyone,” Tim assures.

It seems to do the trick because Danny creeps closer to whisper after checking the door one more time.

“Vlad is my godfather. Uncle Vlad, right? He has always wanted a son and he was obsessed with my mom, so when he met me he, I don’t know, flipped a switch or something and his attention was on me all the time if it wasn’t on Mom. He wanted me to renounce my dad and go live with him. Obviously that didn’t happen so he tried the next best thing apparently and decided he was gonna make a clone of me.”

Danny pauses and Tim needs it to seriously contemplate what even is his life.

“It didn’t work out the way he planned and the only clone to make it was a girl, my cousin, Danielle. Yes, he named her after me. Some things happened, we worked it out, so Danielle was on my side and hates Vlad, right? Well, when everything happened,” he swallows thickly, “Danielle came back from traveling to be with me. Vlad took that opportunity to confine her to the basement. He never wanted a daughter. He never cared about her. So now he’s using her as leverage against me. If I try anything or don’t do what he says, she’s the one that gets punished. If I try to run away, he’d kill her. I know he would. And before I knew about you, she was the only-“

“The only family you had left,” Tim finishes.

Danny nods with a pleading expression.

Tim can understand the primal urge to be close to a blood relative that actually cares.

“Now you have me,” Tim offers with a small smile.

Danny makes the effort to try and smile back, though it falls flat quickly.

“We don’t know that yet. I could be wrong. I’m sorry I threw all this at you, I just- When I found those letters and thought that… I just-“

“I get it.” And he did. He really, really did. “You know, even if we aren’t related I still want to-“

Danny’s phone rings, making the teen jump. He glances at the name calling with a scowl. He doesn’t answer.

“Vlad’s looking for me. I gotta go, but, um, thanks… for taking my word for it and being so nice about it. I promise I’m not trying to pull something for your money. I didn’t even know you were rich until I looked you up-“

“Danny.” Tim was coming to the conclusion that Danny tend to ramble when nervous. He stands and guides the kid toward the door. “It’s okay. I know you’re not lying. I’ll text you the results, okay? We’ll figure this out. Just be patient for me, alright?”

Danny nods and fidgets with his suit coat. He doesn’t make a move to leave yet, instead he turns to face Tim.

“Um, you can say no. I just- is it okay if I hug you?”

Tim blanks for a solid few seconds. It’s only Dick’s cooing and Damian’s sassing that snaps him back to reality. This was real, he has to remind himself. He might have a half-brother and he wants a hug. Tim can do hugs. He can crush a hug, totally.

“Uh, yea. Hugs are okay.”

Danny must not care about his awkward response because he suddenly has thin arms around his waist and soft hair tickling his cheek. They were at the ideal height difference where Danny can rest his head on Tim’s shoulder comfortably. Tim wraps his arms around the teen’s shoulders and just felt.

If Danny really is his half-brother, then fate really is cruel to deprive him of this kinship all throughout his childhood.

Danny pulls away first, face to the ground, and ears red.

With a wavering voice he stumbles out an apology and a thanks before bolting out the door, narrowly running into Dick. He’s disappeared into the crowd in a blink.

“You okay, Tim?” Dick asks.

Tim blinks, “I have a brother.”

“A possible half-brother, but yea, still exciting.”

“The results will come back a match,” Tim says confidently.

“Don’t get your hopes up, Drake. This Daniel sounds pathetic, he would only hold you back.”

“Damian, there is nothing pathetic about trying to protect someone. Danny is thinking about his little cousin,” Dick argues. Damian doesn’t dispute.

“My parents never loved each other,” Tim confesses. “It was a marriage of mutual convenience. It is very possible that my dad found a lover outside their marriage.”

It was weird talking about his parents like that, but it was true. His mother told him once that marriage isn’t about love, it’s a contract between two people with mutual interests and values. His father was always somewhat withdrawn.

Danny had the black hair, the blue eyes, and even the skin tone to match his own. His jaw line was wider and eyebrows thicker, but honestly, they could be brothers if they stood side by side. Half-siblings isn’t even a stretch.

“He’s my brother. I know it.”

Tim spots a flash of silver hair from the crowd and narrows his eyes into slits.

“My brother who is being abused by his caretaker apparently,” he says in a voice that sounds like he’s planning a murder.

Huh. Now that’s a thought.

He could just kill Masters, that would certainly get him out of the way.

“I don’t like that look,” Dick says cautiously, leaning to bring Tim attention to him and not Masters hunting down his little brother. “We’ll help him, Tim. Don’t go overboard here. You can’t afford to get too emotionally involved.”

Tim sends a glare his way.

“Why don’t I prove what I already know, then?”

“Tim-“

He already had the champagne glass in his jacket pocket and his handkerchief in his breast pocket. He shoves past Dick and heads toward the front doors. No one stops him as he leaves the party early and hails a cab back to the manor to start his analysis.

It’s a half a day later when Tim sends a text with an emoji of two males holding hands and a green check mark. It’s an hour later that he gets a shooting star in response. He smiles widely and then gets to work on planning Masters’ demise and his brother’s and ‘cousin’s’ escape into his custody.

[aealzx]

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Update Post

Prologue | AO3

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Waking the kids was an interesting experience that told them a lot more about their dynamic. A simple knock on the door frame before flicking the light on earned a startled yelp from Tucker, a slight gasp from Jazz as she grabbed onto Danielle and shielded her, and Sam grabbed the nearest object and threw it at the source of the noise. Jason just caught the shoe with one hand, keeping it away from the stack of containers he had in the other, and waited for them to realize who was there.

“Don’t sneak up on us, sheesh,” Sam hissed, trying to steady her nerves with a slow breath while Tucker smashed his face in his own pillow with a groan

“I didn’t,” Jason responded, amused not only by their reactions, but also because Danielle looked more like a rag doll in Jazz’s arms. Limp, and still snoring softly, as though oblivious to the commotion. “Breakfast is here. Hope you’re hungry again.”

He earned a few sighs in return, and Jazz even gave a weak chuckle at the incident before she started rubbing Danielle’s back to wake her. The protective borderline smothering hold was loosened, but Jazz still kept her supported. And after a moment Danielle twitched with a small snort, blinking hazily and glancing around the room. “Oh shwee, p’nc’ks,” she slurred, attempting to crawl forward to maybe help pull the sleeping mats out of the way but sagging down to lay on the floor again instead.

“Sorry for waking you. Did you guys sleep well?” Duke asked, bringing in another load of containers from the car Tim had driven there. Alfred had outdone himself again, giving them several boxes of pancakes, bacon, eggs, toast and fruits.

“Yeah, kinda,” Sam admitted, rubbing one eye and yawning. “Not having windows or a breeze was pretty nice. But it was a little cramped.”

At least she was honest. Duke found he couldn’t blame her for feeling cramped in that room. Having the four sleeping mats spread out had covered the entire floor between the two medical beds. “Sorry about that. It’s not the best sleeping arrangements, I know. But hopefully we can get you guys actual beds soon,” he apologized, resting the containers on the table Tucker helped Jason unfold. They had quickly found the night before that the other medical table wasn’t quite big enough to fit everyone comfortably for eating, so had dragged a spare folding one from the other rooms.

“Oh?” Sam questioned, feeling that comment held more to it than an empty placation.

Jason couldn’t help glancing back through the doorway. “... We’ll be moving you guys after breakfast. Just as a precaution,” he admitted, setting his own containers down and turning to fetch more of the load Alfred had provided them. He felt tense ever since Tim and Stephanie had confirmed it was the League of Assassins the kids had stolen Lazarus water from. No one thought the League would let the kids go after just one attempt at killing them. And the first group that they had turned over to the police had been freed, so they had decided to start a relocation pattern for the kids until they could placate the League. But something still felt off.

Tim shared Jason’s unease, lingering at the entrance and scanning the surrounding area as Dick picked up the second to last stack of food. “Something wrong?” Dick asked, pausing for a moment as Tim squinted.

“...Maybe just paranoid,” Tim admitted quietly. “They shouldn’t have found this place yet.”

“We’ll use the time while the kids are eating to pack up. We shouldn’t be here much longer,” Dick tried to reassure, knowing everyone’s mutual discomfort was justified, but not wanting to rush unnecessarily

“I’m with our kid,” Jason commented, coming up on the tail end of the comments and grabbing the last stack of food and ignoring the slight glare Tim gave him for calling him a kid. “Maybe we should just get them to eat in the car.” He suggested it, but already knew the others wouldn’t agree so still followed Dick back inside. It was hard to eat pancakes in a vehicle. Plus getting syrup out of the seats was a nightmare.

The others were starting to dish up their own plates when he arrived, shuffling containers around to make room for the others and moving some to the medical table for extra space. Jazz was taking a moment to check on Danny, feeling her limited knowledge was once again severely lacking but still finding comfort in the fact he still seemed the same as always. Cold to the touch other than the faint warmth in his face, no movement other than shallow breaths that were at least a little better because of the oxygen mask. She hoped the vitamin IV Dick had brought last night had helped too, but she couldn’t tell.

Smothering down her emotions once again, Jazz let go of a small sigh and pushed off the table, heading to join the others for breakfast when Danielle looked around with a scrunched nose. “Okay, which one of you brought a murder hobo? And who are they wanting to kill?” she asked, half glaring at the three that were in the room as their comms crackled to life with a warning from Barbara.

“They hired Deathstroke! Get out of there, now!”

Jason swore as Tim sprinted into the room, making a beeline for Danny and earning startled looks from the other kids. “We have to go! Now!” Tim’s order was barked with a semi frantic sense of urgency as started disconnecting the heart monitor and IV tubes, trying to be fast but not cause any damage either.

“What?”

Someone asked the question, but Jason didn’t fully register who, grabbing the nearest two kids and pulling them to their feet. “Later. Just go. Follow Nightwing and get in the car,” he ordered, shoving them towards the door as Dick rushed to the entrance to peek out while remaining behind cover. The good news is it was someone they were familiar with. The bad news is the League had apparently upgraded their contractor. The strange thing was that they didn’t think the League of Assassins got along with Deathstroke all things considered. 

“Signal, you’re driving,” Dick directed, scanning for any tell of where Deathstroke was hiding. Was he going to take them out from a distance or in person? It seemed to depend on his mood, and what the thought of the target. Did he know Dick and the others were there as well? Most likely. Would he still attack them? …. Unfortunately, yes.

“O’okay,” Duke stammered, rushing to join Nightwing before darting to the half covered parking spot, keeping low. He didn’t think he was the best person for a car chase, if it came to one. But he wasn’t going to fight back if Dick thought otherwise.

After pushing Sam and Tucker into the other room to follow Duke, Jason caught a slight flash to the side and turned his head to see Danielle floating above the floor, her hair the same white it had been before. Looked like one of them was ready to fight back. The sentiment earned a slight grin from Jason.

“Dani,” Jazz hissed, worried that the others would see her transformation as an act of aggression.

“You said only when protecting, yeah? Well I’m not gonna just sit here and play damsel while someone’s trying to kill us again,” Danielle retorted, then looked at Jason. “I’ll keep you covered while you move Danny. That’s what you’re still here for, yeah?”

Tim could honestly carry Danny too, but it would still be easier for Jason to do it while Tim grabbed any vital equipment from the safehouse. So to Danielle’s question Jason just nodded, once again scooping Danny up easily after Tim had disconnected the last medical tether. “Get in the backseat. I’ll pass him to you, and you’ll need to keep him stable if there’s any problems. Got it?” Jason directed Jazz, heading towards the exit as well while Danielle and Jazz followed. As they moved to the next room Jason blinked slightly when Danielle raised her hands and a mostly transparent green dome formed over the four of them, just in case. Jazz just wordlessly nodded, sticking close and looking with worry between her two siblings. She didn’t want Danielle to get in a fight, but Jason had loosely put her in charge of watching over Danny.

As they paused near Dick to wait for clearance to continue, Jason was mildly interested in Danielle’s barrier being able to phase through the walls, and wondered if that was a conscious effort on her end or not. It was surprising they hadn’t been fired on yet, considering Danielle’s note of someone with murderous intent suggesting Deathstroke was already there. Dick was still by the entrance, keeping behind cover and eyes flicking to each of the prime hiding spots he could see, but he also hadn’t been able to notice any sign of their assassin.

“You two take the bikes, I’ll follow through an alternate route,” Dick directed to Jason and Tim, only glancing at the barrier from Danielle before giving orders.

“Yeah, you and what gun?” Jason retorted, nodding for Tim to escort Jazz to the car first.

“Hood,” Dick scolded, not wanting to deal with disobedience.

“Wing,” Jason countered, staring Dick down defiantly. There was no way he was going to let Dick try to fight Deathstroke alone, and they both knew that was what was going to happen. Luckily it only took a moment before Dick sighed a huff in defeat.

“Fine, we’ll both stay,” he agreed.

Jason only let out a huff of mild triumph before ducking through the door to hurry to the car, carefully passing Danny inside to Jazz and Tucker in the back seat. “Just hold on tight, and don’t worry. The car is bulletproof,” he directed, trying to be reassuring as Jazz pursed her lips and wrapped her arms around her brother. Tucker just gulped and nodded, clinging to Danny’s legs and hunching over.

A soft hiss was their only alert to the start of the attack, Dick’s head snapping to the source of the sound and immediately ducking low. “GRENADE!”

Jason swore softly this time, pulling the car door closed as much as he could without climbing into the cramped car with the others. Tim dove behind his motorcycle, also reinforced against ballistics, only to look over the top and feel a strain of panic. “Dani, get down!” Why the hell hadn’t she taken cover with the others? She was still floating next to the car, and the grenade missile was definitely heading towards them.

“Yeah yeah,” Danielle huffed, unimpressed as she abruptly darted towards the grenade missile, catching it in her hands midair, twisting her body to follow for a half second then turning its trajectory in a half loop and letting it go back the way it came.

It was unexpected. But pleasantly so, and after a short breath of relief Dick, Jason and Tim left their cover to find better positions. Watching Deathstroke leap from the building he’d set up in to avoid his own redirected attack, Dick stepped into the street between Deathstroke’s approach and the others. Glancing over, Jason dodged out of the way of slamming the car door on the others, looking to the driver’s seat and shouting, “Floor it Signal!”

Duke tried not to flinch when Jason banged on the back of the car, but followed the order and stomped on the gas. “Hold on!” he called to the passengers, feeling just a little bad when Sam made a nervous noise while slapping her hands out to stabilize herself somewhat as Duke cranked the wheel.

“ Wait! Dani!- Don’t leave her!” Jazz shouted, pulling Danny close and bracing her feet on parts of the seats while craning her head to look back through the back window. Tucker just whimpered and kept low, and Duke glanced at the mirrors to make sure Tim was following them on his motorcycle.

“Don’t worry, the others will keep her safe and bring her back. They’ve dealt with Deathstroke before,” Duke assured, trying to keep his charges calm while also focusing on driving. Considering how Danielle had handled the missile, Duke was honestly more worried about his brothers than the meta girl.

“Signal, status update? Who do you have?” Barbara’s request came through the comms as she noticed his and Tim’s trackers starting to move, having already contacted the others to help coordinate.

“Sam, Tucker, Jazz and Danny are with me in the car. Red Robin is external, following on a bike,” Duke responded quickly.

“Critical material has been loaded into the back of the car, and I opened the link to the systems for you to backup and wipe the site. Nightwing and Red Hood have remained behind to prevent Deathstroke from following, and it looks like the girl Dani is staying with them. She redirected the grenade missile sent at us, so I think she’ll be able to keep up,” Tim added.

“Understood. Head to site 137 and wait for rendezvous. Spoiler, Orphan, Batman and Robin are en route for back up,” Barbara directed, eyes flicking between screens. The site was an abandoned parking garage with sixteen levels. It made it easier to hide vehicles in without compromising other safehouses.

“It’s confirmed to be Deathstroke?” Bruce chimed in, doubting the report.

“Yeah it’s him. The cockroach is in sight, and just as ugly as usual” Jason confirmed.

“That’s impossible. Mother would never approve collaboration with him. He killed grandfather,” Damian retorted.

“And I find it hard to believe Deathstroke would be willing to work with the League after everything either,” Stephanie added.

“It appears to be from a subordinate lower in the ranks. Talia may be unaware Deathstroke was hired as a second choice,” Barbara offered, half as a way to placate Damian’s protests.

“Deathstroke could be seeing it as a way to secure a debt with the League to cash in later,” Bruce commented, grateful that Damian’s anger seemed to lower considerably at the additional possibilities.

“...I will handle it,” Damian spoke next, pulling out his cell phone to type in a number he had memorized and never saved to his contacts.

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I initially wrote this and two more sections before watching Son of Batman, and then watched that movie and went "oh crap" and had to modify stuff X'DD please forgive if it doesn't seem completely in character for Slade. I only know him from Son of Batman, and Judas Contract.

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