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klemen-tine · 8 months ago

Text

No Prince Charming

(Batfam x Mom!Reader)

Anonymous asked:

Hello, I really like your work.

I saw that you have an open request, so I want to share an idea that has been sitting in my head for a long time.

Reader married Bruce for convenience. (In my head, the reader is a woman, but I'll leave it to your taste) The wedding takes place shortly before the appearance of the first Robin. Bruce and reader have a cold relationship. Reader comes from the wealthy population of Gotham. Therefore, reader is well educated and intelligent. So after a while, when Dick already appears, reader understands what her husband does at night. But reading doesn't say anything about it or hint at it. The reader doesn't want to get involved in any of this, it scares her. And although the reader is planning a divorce, she takes care of all the members of her new family. And although she is neglected in the family, the reader becomes a parental figure for children. But the children won't admit it. When Damian appears, the reader doesn't say a word to Bruce. But Damian treats reader very badly. And that becomes the trigger. The reader slips Bruce the divorce papers.(not to mention that they are getting divorced, since Bruce is likely to protest) and when Bruce signs them, he leaves the estate, leaving the divorce papers and the wedding ring on the bed when no one notices. And only then does the family realize what they have done with their neglect of reader. Their yandere trait is waking up in them and now they need to somehow find their reader.

Sorry if it's too much.

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

❤

Warning: Non-consensual drugging, not descriptive sex. It's just mentioned, no details. Hinted at Dick's trauma with his sidekick.

It was a marriage of convenience. That's all it was. Bruce Wayne knew Y/N L/N since childhood, and while they weren’t close, Y/N was the only one who never treated him any differently after his parents were murdered. Maybe it's because her own father was murdered, and she understood that sometimes the greatest support was to act like nothing changed.

Fast forward to young adults, Bruce Wayne was now Brucie in public, and Y/N was the unstoppable woman leading her own company by the reins. Bruce had come to her with an offer, one that had her brows raised and painted lips smirking. For Bruce Wayne, this will help solidify his position as someone who was not Batman, and for Y/N it would finally silence the hecklers that gnawed at her heels and bit into her shoulders.

A frigid marriage, filled with cold greetings, Brucie still entertaining women, Y/N still controlling her company with painted lips, and rumors surrounding them. Despite the coldness, Y/N knew a lie when she saw one. She knows a front when she comes face to face with one, and it is why when she saw Batman in the hallways of Wayne manor, staring at her in shock and apprehension, she rolled her eyes and continued to sip her wine as she made her way back to her office.

“Please don’t stain the carpet. Alfred just shampooed them.” They never brought it up again. Bruce was no Prince Charming, despite the front he put on for strangers. There were no whispered promises, no flowers, no gifts, nothing but ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes.’

Then, along came Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson. A child who had blinked up at her with large blue eyes, and Y/N could feel her heart crumble. She had welcomed him with open arms and smiles. She had welcomed all of the Robins in. Her manicured nails getting shorter each time, so she doesn’t have to fear hurting one of them, and her smiles became softer. Y/N had never tried to replace any of their mother’s, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel like one.

But it was Bruce they had a closer bond with. Which is why they started following his behavior towards her. Clipped words and rolling of eyes were common, as were the cold shoulders and tense silences.

“You’re not my mom! So stop asking how school was!” Y/N stared at Jason in shock and curiosity about where that outburst had come from. Alfred was the only one to say anything. A stern, “Master Jason,” and a look that had even Bruce cowering had the young boy apologizing. Y/N ignored the way her heart slowly broke, as the quirky child full of smiles, sass, and who loved classics, turned his back on her.

As if she wasn’t the one to introduce those books to him.

Y/N doesn’t blame them for their cold behavior towards her. She doesn’t blame Dick’s disregard, Jason’s hurtful words, Tim’s cynical looks, Steph’s taunts, and Damian’s heated actions.

Y/N had cried at Jason’s funeral, she helped Bruce fight for custody for Tim, she had consoled Dick after some of his own traumatic experiences, and she sat there and listened as Damian compared her and Talia. Talia, of all people. She had met the woman once, and Y/N had nodded at her. Y/N never judged Bruce for sleeping with the woman. Hell, Y/N would have too. Y/N can recall the day Damian came to their manor, and the short look Dick had given her when she and the child made eye contact.

Y/N doesn’t know if it was a look of concern or mockery, but she knows he did look.

She was there for Richard when his trauma with his sidekick happened. He may have never told her, but Y/N is a woman. A woman who has known people that have suffered the same way Dick has. That are still suffering like he is.

“I’m sorry Richard.”

“What do you even know?! You know nothing! Absolutely nothing so just butt out!” Dick glared at her with blue eyes that had put the arctic water to shame. Y/N stood there and took it all. She stood proudly with her shoulders back and chin up.

In public, she was a stoic mother keeping the children in check while Bruce goofed off. She was the woman who failed her children, because she chose to continue running her business. Her very, very, very successful business. A business that had taken her and her mother from the bottom of High Society, to the top 10%. A series of great investments, smart marketing, and pretty words have lined her pockets with money that she could easily retire on.

Yet, all that money couldn’t save her mother. The woman died of a heart attack, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing Y/N could do besides bury her mother.

“Bruce please.”

“I am busy.”

“I know but Bruce, this is my–”

“Ask Alfred.” He had turned his back and Y/N was stuck staring at the retreating man with a new feeling of heartbreak. The tabloids ate up that she was alone at her mother’s funeral. A private event that no one was allowed into besides close family and friends.

When she came back, eyes downcast and shoulders slumped, Damian had picked the time to make his disdain known again, “–and my mother would have never let herself go like that. You look horrid, unbefitting of a Wayne. A disgrace.”

Blank E/C eyes stared into raging green and she sighed, “Thanks, Damian.” She spared him no glance after that, and she walked towards her bedroom to take a hot shower. It was there, under the hot spray of water that she finally cried. She cried for the last part of family she had, and the years she lost from marrying a man who didn’t even like her enough to attend a godforsaken fucking funeral. She cried for the children she couldn’t even call her own.

She cried for the life she missed by marrying Bruce fucking Wayne.

“Honey, are you happy?”

“Of course Mama.”

“You never could lie to me sweetie.” Her mother kissed her forehead and looked into E/C eyes with nothing but love, “You’ve worked so hard, sweetie.” That acknowledgement alone had her almost in tears, “But please start working for yourself now.”

Taking a deep breath, Y/N hopped out of the shower and called her lawyer. Divorce papers were in her hands within 24 hours, and her bags packed in 3.

She stood next to Bruce, ignoring the scowl on his face as she ‘disrupted’ his work. Y/N kept her face neutral, because if she smiled it would give it all away, and handed him the page he needed to sign.

For a billionaire and for a vigilante, he sure didn’t read the damn paper. Which is fine. Great even, because now, after being here for over a decade, Y/N is free. She laughed in her room, laughing so hard that it almost tore her throat. Leaving a copy of it on Bruce’s bed once he was gone, she grabbed her suitcase and accidentally ran into Alfred on her way out the door.

The old man took a look at her clothes, her bags, and her expression before sighing, “Shall I drive you for the last time, Lady Y/N?” Y/N smiled, bitterly at the thought of leaving Alfred, her only solace in this cold mansion.

“To the airport, please.” The ride was silent, and Y/N didn’t look back as they left the gates of the mansion. It wasn’t until they were halfway there that Y/N spoke up, “My lawyer will call in a few days, just to hash out the details.”

“Is that so?”

“There’s nothing I want. No assets, no money, nothing will be taken, I just want a divorce.” She just wants the law to recognize that she is not a Wayne. That she will never be a Wayne.

“Lady Y/N, perhaps a check for compensation for the emotional strain would be nice?” Y/N laughed, bitterly and sad, “I don’t want his money. I want nothing to do with him anymore.”

“And the kids?”

“They don’t need me. They never did. I doubt they will even notice.” Gotham International Airport wasn’t crowded, and that may be because it was 1pm on a Tuesday. Alfred helped her with her bags, and the old man stared at the woman before him. He remembers meeting her for the first time, a confident young woman who had a way with words and was unfairly intelligent. Matching wits and able to speak confidently in a room of people who thought little of her.

It's good to see some of that coming back.

Y/N hugged Alfred, “Thank you, Alfred. For everything.” The older man sighed and watched as the woman took her bags and walked away. Not once did she look back and Alfred decided to stay until her form disappeared in the building. He sighed heavily and when got back in the car, he dialed a number he knew by heart. It only took three rings before the voice of the man he raised answered, “Alfred, is everything okay?”

“Master Bruce, I fear you may have lost something precious, and I do hope you, and the young masters, have a plan to make this up to them.” He hung up afterwards as he merged into traffic, and he hoped his message finally hit something within his son’s dense skull.

When he returned back to the manor, he began the preparation for making dinner. All was silent throughout the manor, until the door opened and the rush of the footsteps began marching towards him.

“Master Richard, I urge you to not run.”

“Bruce told me there was an emergency and to hurry to the manor?” Alfred sighed, “While it is an emergency, it is not one you can fix on your own.” No, this was something for Bruce to fix seeing tha all the problems stemmed from him.

Dick raised a brow, “What kind of emergency is it?” Alfred pursed her lips, “Miss Y/N Wayne is now Miss Y/N L/N once more.” He turned to look the man he has considered his grandson in the eyes, and he could see the revelation sink in.

“Y/N divorced Bruce?” Alfred nodded, “The papers have been signed.”

“Bruce would never sign those papers.” Alfred raised a brow, “They are signed and waiting for him to read.” Dick slowly walked out of the kitchen, “Is she still here?” Alfred turned back to the food and Dick began speed walking towards Y/N’s room. As a child it never occurred to him why they would they never slept together, but as he got older he understood.

He knocked on her doors, calling her name like he used to as a kid.

Dick had always understood that Bruce’s and Y/N’s relationship was not one of a couple in love. He also understood that Y/N’s treatment in the manor by the residents of the manor was unfair. Whenever he could, he would correct Damian’s harsh words, but even he himself couldn’t fully bring himself to be all that kind to her.

He tried. He desperately tried, because he saw all that she did for them behind the scenes. He saw the mistreatment and judging looks others would give her as her ‘husband’ was out fooling around.

Dick saw the blank look she had given Damian after her mother’s funeral. The one none of them had gone too.

“What do you mean you didn’t go?” His voice panicked as he talked to Tim, “I didn’t go. I was under the assumption someone else would go.”

Y/N could have been Gotham’s biggest bitch, but not even then would she have deserved that. What made it worse was that Y/N was not a bitch. She wasn’t cruel, or unkind. She was as much of a philanthropist as Bruce was. Always aiding those whose needed it and desperately trying to make Gotham a better place.

Dick opened her doors and was greeted with an empty room. Gone were the picture frames, and the closet was empty along with the bathroom. Her prized jewlery, the things she took care of almost obsessively, all of it was gone.

He could remember beng 9 and sitting next to her as she cleaned one of her sapphire earrings. Thin fingers with long nail held the earring next to him, a scrutinizing look on her face before she would break out into a grin, “As I thought, nothing could ever compare to our Dickie’s sapphire eyes.”

“Holy shit.”

“What’s going on- why is Y/N’s room empty?” Tim looked throughout the room, and Dick could see the wonder across his younger brother’s face. Right, between all of them, Tim and Y/N had the least amount of time spent together.

Dick stared at his brother as the image of Y/N smiling at a string of pearls entered his mind. She had explained to him when he asked that pearls, while feminine, also symbolized new beginnings. She had gotten it when Tim’s custody was signed over to the Waynes.

“She’s gone.” Tim met Dick’s eyes, “Like… taking a vacation gone?” Dick gave a humorless chuckle, “She divorced Bruce, Tim. Y/N is gone.” This must have been what Alfred saw when he broke the news to Dick. The confusion and then realization coming to light in those blue eyes.

“Bruce would never sign those papers.” Dick had said the same thing, and yet here she was. Gone. As if to emphasize his point, Dick made an exaggerated expression and motioned to the empty room.

Tim looked around and he could feel a headache forming, “Bruce is gonna be pissed.” Dick groaned, “Fuck Bruce for a second, the only stable-mentally healthy-adult figure that isn’t Alfred is gone, Tim.” The boy didn’t look all that bothered, “Well, if she’s happier then I don’t mind.”

Of course he doesn’t mind. Why? Because this little stalker most likely knows where she’s going. Tim did a good job hiding it, but Dick was raised by Bruce. He is trained to spot the mciroexpressions of people, and even if they are his own siblings.

Tim is panicking. The very thought of Y/N leaving had not once occurred to them, and for Tim who loves planning, this was not once ever in the plans.

Not once. Y/N had been a staple within the manor, and to imagine her not being here was rough. Evenw hen she left for business trips, it was fine because they all knew she was coming back. SHe would come back with souvenirs, handing each of them something that reminhded her of them, before running upstairs to get out of the family’s judgemental line of sight.

“Fucking hell.”

++++

Bruce entered the condo with ease. His steps light as he walked through the dark room, noting the all the furniture. There was no Y/N in the living room or kitchen, but when he looked out the balcony door, he could see her back. She was leaning against the edge of the infinity pool, without doubt a hot tub of some sorts because it was too cold to be swimming in a regular pool.

She didn’t even turn around to look at him, her attention focused on the view of the snowy mountains and raging seas in front of her. Bruce could see the wine bottle left on the side of the pool and the glass that looked like it was finished only a short while ago. When she did turn around, E/C reflected the stars and dimly lit light around the pool, making them shine and sparkle like they were the galaxy.

Bruce isn’t blind. He knows Y/N is an attractive woman who had many people lusting after her even when they were married. Talia even made a note of it, “You should see if she wants to join next time.” He should have known that his clipped response was a sign.

It was all there, and yet he did everything within his power to ensure that he would not fall in love with her. Falling in love has always been out of the question, and when Y/N came into his life, Bruce made it his mission to do just that. The woman before him had never complained, and she never seemed to fault him for it, but he could tell there was resentment. If he couldn’t have allowed himself to fall in love with her, he could have at least offered her friendship. One that made life more bearable for the both of them, and set a good example for the kids.

“What are you doing, Bruce?” She didn’t seem shocked that he was here, let alone in her vacation condo. Bruce took off his shirt and pants, stripping down to his boxers before joining her in the hot tub. He had grabbed two glasses of wine before doing so, handing her one and taking a sip from the other.

“Is it wrong of me to want to join my wife on her vacation?”

“Ex-wife. The documents are signed, and besides this is a girl trip.” Bruce re-read those documents and kicked his foot for not fucking reading them when he first signed them. He should have known she was up to something.

“Y/N, come back to the manor.” He stared into E/C eyes as she took another sip of the wine. Bruce had come with a speech prepared, ready to convince her to come back with him, but it was all lost as he stared and observed the woman in front of him drink delicately from the glass. Y/N L/N has always been a woman of class, even when she was near the bottom of high society. It wasn’t her good looks that landed her in the top 10, possibly even top 5%, and like every classy woman, she was only allowed to regret a few things. Their marriage is one, but leaving is not even an option on the list of things she wants to regret but can’t.

He knows this. She knows this.

And yet, Bruce could only focus on how beautiful she looks, and how beautiful she would look sprawled on the silk bed sheets. Y/N has aged like fine wine, looking even more beautifully and worth more and more with each passing year. Aging gracefully and beautifully as the years passed and still catching the attention of others.

It's a shame his younger self was more into whiskey than wine.

He wonders how different their relationship would be if he had gotten to know her before and during the early years of their marriage. Without a doubt it would be easier to talk to her. Easier to convince her to come back to a manor that now misses her.

“And why should I?” It’d be easier to answer her with a compelling reason, one that would have her actually debating on whether or not to come back. Bruce reached over and brushed a strand of hair out of her face, and he’s shocked that she even let him do that. She didn’t flinch, nor did she lean into his touch. Y/N stood still as he moved the H/C lock behind her ears.

“The manor misses you.” He’s never heard her laugh the way she did in that moment. Throwing her head back and exposing unblemished skin to the night air as she laughed, and continued to laugh. Her shoulders shaking from the force and slightly distilling the wine.

Once she was done, her cheeks were red from the laughter and she was gasping for breath, “Yeah, okay. So Alfred misses me, I’ll make sure to give him a call then.” She turned her back to Bruce and began walking towards the edge of the pool.

“The boys, girls, and I do too.” Chateau Petra was on his lips and the feeling of cold wine hitting his face and upper chest had him closing his eyes for a second. When he opened them, Y/N’s wine glass was empty and on her face was a hard expression. Cold E/C eyes glaring into his as she pulled herself out of the pool, and grabbed the rest of the wine bottle.

“Sleep on the couch. You’re going home tomorrow.” Her steps quiet as she stalked into her home and she headed for the bathroom. Bruce sighed, and stared at the night sky with a new look in his eyes, ‘Desperate times call for desperate measures.’ He would like to believe that he is above this. He wants to believe that this was the worst case scenario happening and therefore this needs to happen.

Has to. The very thought of Y/N being away caused an itch to form under his skin and a burning fire in his chest. A fire he never knew blazed in him until it went out. Now, more aware and protective of it, Bruce found himself craving the warmth in ways that had his mouth foaming and muscles tensing. He looked down at the water and saw the red wine diluting and sprawling throughout the pool water, looking like blood for only a second.

A smile curled on his lips and he pulled himself out of the pool water, drying himself off before making his way into the shower with his ‘ex-wife.’ They may have never been lovers, but they were two adults living under the same roof.

So, of course they have had sex.

Hate sex is the best and worst sex. It is the best because Bruce can go as hard as he wants to and Y/N will love it. It is the worse because hate sex is all Y/N will see this as. Y/N will only see it has hate sex and not for the love Bruce feels for her. She won’t feel it in the way he caresses her skin or in the way he leaves his bite marks on her thighs. All Y/N will see this as, is hate sex.

Which is fine. If hate sex is what Y/N needs to see this as to work then Bruce will take it. He has time. He has plenty of time to show her how much he cares and loves her. Those divorce papers will be long gone, every single one of those copies non-existent. He loves her. He loves her in the way a cactus loves the sun, or how the stars love the moon.

Bruce was so enamored by her, that he couldn’t help but to fall deeper. Her soft hands, that have never broken a bone but have broken many hearts, cradling scarred shoulders and sharp cheeks. She didn’t flinch when his own rough hands gripped her’s, bruising and secure, and she didn’t flinch when intense blue eyes met hers. In fact, she smiled, like this was all a joke he was the butt of it.

It pissed him off that even she could have secrets and inside jokes that he doesn’t know about. As she laid there, her eyes now closed and body relaxed, Bruce pulled out a syringe filled with something that will keep her asleep. Only for a few days. Barbara is already working on getting rid of the divorce papers and the kids were preparing for her return.

Bruce kissed her forehead, smiling down at his Sleeping Beauty. If need be, the manor will be her castle and the kids her vines covered in thorns. Bruce, in all his daunting and terrifying glory shall be the dragon, keeping her locked within her castle because nowhere was safer than the castle. Only she could keep him calm, and only she could make him feel human.

Batman was never Prince Charming.

_________________________________________________________

Not my best work in my opinion... but I still like tbh.

@problematicreblogger

@kurai-hono-blog

@rosecentury

#yandere batfam #yandere dc #platonic yandere #batfam x reader #platonic batfam #batfam #platonic batman #bruce wayne #batman x reader #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere damian wayne #alfred pennyworth

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verstarppen · 3 months ago

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Hello beautiful human!!! So - I’m in love with the smau’s you make, and I had a thought for one… what about a Logan Sargeant x youngest royal reader (ya know, like a younger sister of Prince Harry and Prince William), and she is completely distanced from her brothers and is in love with/engaged to Logan? I just love the idea 🥰

Hope you have a wonderful day!!!

summary; not to flex, but how many f1 drivers can say they're dating a princess?

pairing; logan sargeant x fem! princess! reader [ no faceclaim ]

a/n; for legal reasons im afraid of the british royal family and i don't want to get diana-ed so i've made her the princess of a land that may or may not be named after sims medieval please don't kill me; this is my send off to logan, thank you for your service king we love you <3

liked by eagle_hunter_2, ls2bathrug and 2,507,888 others

monarchofslayington Greetings! My butler proposed that it would be delightful to host a Q&A session, given the multitude of inquiries, both digital and handwritten, expressing a keen interest in the culture of Yacothia. Please leave your questions in the comment section.

— Princess Y/N of Yacothia

view all 980,082 comments

benjamin_long_2000 what's it like living in a castle?

monarchofslayington In truth, it is rather tedious and profoundly tranquil—occasionally reaching an ambiance reminiscent of a horror film.

abhijeetdeppiesse DOES THE QUEEN REPLY

monarchofslayington No, it is the princess who does.

jantellerman81 Do you have lots of free time or are you busy all day?

monarchofslayington I lend my support to charitable endeavors, visit events as an esteemed representative of my family, and intermittently travel to bolster diplomatic relations with foreign nations. Nevertheless, I reserve Sundays for respite.

eagle_hunter_2 Are you looking for a prince?

monarchofslayington Perchance eagle_hunter_2 You can't just say perchance

liked by ls2bathrug, oscarpiastri, yacothiaracing and 672,361 others

logansargeant Big fan of Yachothia's unemployed driver support group

view all 51,451 comments

danielricciardo Aren't we all

yacothiaracing hey king

francolapinto i'm also seatless for next year so if you'd be so kind to help me slide into their dms

logansargeant I've got you, brother danielricciardo Mate francolapinto @ yacothiaracing are you my iron deficiency because i'm falling for you yacothiaracing sold dannielricciardo You can't be serious francolapinto ;)

liked by monarchofslayington, logansargeant, yacothiaracing and 988,984 others

fernandoalo_oficial Perfect night 🎉😀👏🏻

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maxverstappen1 Night club so good I might buy another cat

monarchofslayington It would be an honour

realmvettel THE PRINCESS IN THE LIKES STOPPPP

julyestie i don't think people realize how crazy this is, imagine the prince of monaco likes charles' post armstrongslayer look at her following the whole grid is there lmaooo

logansargeant Thank you for letting me join

fernandoalo_oficial You're still a part of this logansargeant Who's cutting onions

liked by monarchofslayington, alex_albon, logansargeant and 213,951 others

lilymhe If Alfred had instagram he would've liked this post

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monarchofslayington I am perpetually able to engage with social media via Her Highness, esteemed madam. - Alfred

alex_albon Can you share your Soup au pistou recipe monarchofslayington I shall not, good sir. alex_albon damn it

smilesargeant oh my god he's smashing a princess i never had a chance did i

forzapluto you and me both sister

ls2bathrug I am ever delighted to extend to you the gracious invitation of a visit 😊

ls2bathrug wait ls2bathrug fuck logansargeant Wrong account, doll ls2bathrug yes thank you captain obvious i hadn't noticed ls2bathrug STOP BLOWING UP MY NOTIFICATIONS YOU DEMONS

liked by alex_albon, logansargeant, yacothiaracing and 1,252,352 others

monarchofslayington i can finally say this THAT'S MY BOYFRIENDDDDD HE'S MINEEEE

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verstappler "how were we supposed to know" HER NAME IS MONARCH OF SLAYINGTON

papayasalad I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE IT

monarchofslayington i'll always be your rug, lando enjoyer

logansargeant 😘

monarchofslayington are you flirting with me or smthin

francolapinto the seat deal is still on right

monarchofslayington hmmmmm francolapinto was your mom an artist because she made a masterpiece logansargeant 😐

pic credits; instagram and pinterest

fic-specific taglist; @spilled-coffee-cup @onecojg @cixrosie @sheridamn @namgification @thehufflepuffavenger1 @sxrcxsm26 @mehrmonga @mellowarcadefun @dark-night-sky-99 @multifandomwhore-003 @theblueblub @julezstinkz @vamplyle @yuki-tsunodas @ttokkisbee @eloriis @raizelchrysanderoctavius @itseightbeats @nitiii @i-m-in-loki-s-army @prettymonegasque

blog taglist; @wtfisakilometer2 @aexitizen-ln4 @biitch-with-wifi @localwhoore @redbullphantasmagoria @cixrosie @sheridamn @weunstan @namgification @whatislifebutlemons @demvnsriot @stinkyjax @sxrcxsm26 @beskardroids @tbsloneely @mehrmonga @marymustdie @mellowarcadefun @geniusalpaca @theblueblub @ayrtonsennatea @resident-swiftie @moonraysandstars @tellybearryyyy @coffeehurricanes @vamplyle @mrsmelinda @ttokkisbee @eloriis @raizelchrysanderoctavius @ln8118 @neferaskingdom @emppusofi @itseightbeats @nitiii @abunchofbutterflies @kiki-sleeps

(there are so many references in this it's insane)

#logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant au #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 #formula 1 #f1 smau #f1 x you #f1 social media au #social media au #f1 instagram au #instagram au

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nebulaafterdark · 5 months ago

Text

The Succession (Part 2)

Summary: After the battle of Rook’s Rest, Queen Y/N is forced to rule alongside Prince Regent Aemond, in an attempt to keep her children safe and eventually seat her mother, Rhaenyra, on the throne. While attending her husband, on what appears to be his deathbed, she begins to unravel the dark truth of his near passing.

Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

Part 1

Y/N wakes to a knock at the door. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she sits upright. Aegon is still there, unmoving beside her. “Come.”

“Good morrow, your grace.” Her lady in waiting, Chérie, bows her head upon entry; a powder blue gown draped over one arm. “You must break your fast.”

“What ungodly hour is it?” The Queen grumbles, stretching both arms above her head.

“Nearly midday, my Queen.”

Y/N nods, taking her hand. “I need a favor of you.”

“A bath?” Chérie smirks.

Y/N stares down at herself, nightgown stained with blood and gods know what else. She huffs a laugh, “that as well.”

“I will ready the tub.”

“Chérie?”

“Are you seeking comfort, your grace?” She has lost her grandmother and her husband’s good health, “I could tend you.”

“No.” Y/N stares down at her hands.

“Forgive me for assuming.” She takes a step back, “I only want to help.”

Y/N moves forward, closing the space between them. “It was kind of you, Chérie. I appreciate your devotion, more than you know. There is something different I need of you.”

“Name it.”

“You know things…I must know them.”

“What is it you need know?” Chérie wonders.

“The truth of what happened at Rook’s Rest. I do not pretend to understand Aegon’s motivations. Gods willing, I may be able to ask him one day. But for now, I need know what befell him. Cole dances around it, the Hightowers will never be truthful with me.”

“Is there anything you do know? A talking point that might be of use as I consult the servants?” Chérie wonders.

Y/N leans in. “Helaena and Aemond stood at the foot of his bed last night. She asked if it was worth the price. Aemond denied any knowledge of what she meant. Still, Helaena does not speak to cause upset, she speaks when she has something to say. If he’s done this…the whole of our line may be in danger.”

Chérie sighs, “somedays I am glad to’ve been born a commoner.”

“For that I do not fault you.” Y/N forces a smile.

Chérie steals a glance at the king. “Will he live?”

“We’ve no way of knowing. I pray to the gods for his recovery, but it is a long road. He will never be as he was, so long as he lives, it matters naught to me.”

————————————————————————

“There’s been word from King’s Landing.”

Rhaenyra’s head snaps up.

“Aegon has fallen, the stranger looms over his head. With Vhagar weakened in the attack, now is the time to act.”

“And what of my daughter?” The Queen ticks a finger against the table. “Has she been spotted since Aegon’s coronation?”

“We believe the princess lives, your grace. But upon second hand testimony, smallfolk in the streets, we cannot say for certain.”

“What was she doing?” Rhaenyra wonders, “my girl, when they saw her in the streets?”

The lords look to each other, “she marched beside the carriage with Aegon’s body.”

“That is proof enough. I must send word to her, she cannot think we have turned our backs on her. With Aegon gone, she may very well be Aemond’s next attempt.” Rhaenyra is sick over it.

“You must trust, as we have, that Aegon will care for her.”

“He cannot care for her, upon his deathbed. Should he pass, we leave her to whom? Aemond and Alicent? She will be put to the sword.” Rhaenyra shakes her head.

“Meleys was our largest dragon, your grace.” Ser Alfred reminds her.

“Which is why I must go.”

“You cannot, my Queen. You are the crown.”

“I will go.” Jacaerys fists the hilt of his sword.

“No,” Rhaenyra scoffs. “It is out of the question. You will be taken or slain.”

“Would you rather my sister or me?” Jace squares his shoulders. “Those are your choices.”

————————————————————————-

Y/N forces her meal down, spending the evening in her children’s rooms.

“Mama,” Visera calls to her, “I’ve made something for father.”

“I helped!” Dahlia chimes in. “Laenor wanted to, but he rubbed his hands all over it. The painting was nearly ruined.”

“Say it isn’t so, my loves.” Y/N lifts her eldest son onto her hip. “Shall I kiss his head off?”

“Yes.”

“Do it.”

Y/N smiles, peppering Laenor’s sweet face with kisses as he squeals, thrashing wildly in her hold.

Dahlia and Visera giggle, entertained for the moment.

“And you, my prince, best have learned your lesson.” Y/N says, releasing her son onto the floor.

He scampers away, still screeching with glee.

“Mother?” Dahlia tugs at her mother’s skirts.

“Yes, my darling?”

“When will we see father?”

Y/N sighs, “come, sit with me.” She pats the cushions on either side of her.

Her daughters look to each other, then join her on the settee.

“Do you remember what Papa told you about sickness? How it is a war we wage alone, within our bodies?”

“Is he ill?”

“Not exactly,” Y/N explains, “nevertheless, his body is at war now. Battling to repair itself from great wounds, some we cannot see. Every hour, he is fighting his way back to us. But he must remain abed for now, in a state of sleep.”

“May we watch him sleep?” Visera wonders.

“I fear you might be saddened by it.”

“Why, Mama?”

“He looks a bit different, on the outside. But on the inside he is the same.” Y/N says, fighting for composure, “we mustn’t touch him, lest we cause more pain. And it is hard to keep our distance, when all we truly want is to wrap him in an embrace.”

“Mayhaps when we see him, we might hold each other instead.”

Y/N looks to her eldest daughter. “On the morrow, after his bandages are changed, I will bring you. And if it is too much for you, there is no shame in saying so. We love him dearly and he knows it.”

“That is what matters, I think.” Visera says, “if I were waging war, I would want to know someone loved me.”

————————————————————————

Y/N sneaks down to the kitchens for a bit of cake, heading to Aegon’s apartments to eat it. The doors open onto Aemond, leaning over Aegon’s body.

“What are you doing?” She has no weapon, if she’s to kill him now, it will be with her bare hands or a serving spoon.

Aemond turns to her, with sly smile. “My brother was asking for you. He woke in pain, I was merely supplying him with milk of the poppy.”

Y/N forces her mouth to turn upward, “very kind of you, I thank you for looking in on him.”

Aemond nods, setting the empty cup on the bedside table. “Of course.”

“When he asked for me, what did he say?” She wonders, lying her plate of cake beside it.

“Only your name.”

Y/N nods.

“You have been a good and faithful wife to him. Aegon is blessed to have you.”

“Aemond,” Y/N breathes, “might I ask you something?”

His eye flickers about her, “of course, sweet niece.”

“What do you think was his undoing?” She motions to Aegon, “if you had to say?”

“Vanity…pride.”

“It would be suited,” Y/N forces the awful words past her lips, “for someone to take that from him.”

“You should not say such things, my Queen. The thought alone is truly depraved.”

“Of course, forgive me.”

“What befell my brother is nothing short of a tragedy.” Aemond purrs, “you must keep your wits about you.”

“Were they locked in battle?” Y/N asks, “when my grandmother gave Meleys the order?”

Aemond purses his lips, “when dragons fly to war, it is men who burn. Aegon is not the first, he will not be the last. You should be grateful he returned to you.”

“I have lost a brother to war.” Y/N says, as if he needs reminding. “I know its cruelty.”

“A shame, indeed.” Aemond hums.

“I hope it was worth the price.”

“Y/N.” Alicent calls, “Aemond, what are you doing here?”

The prince looks to his mother, “I was merely checking in on our king.”

“You are kind to do so,” Alicent swallows, “as his wife is now here, you are relieved of said duty. Unless you wish the three of us to hold vigil.”

“Perhaps another time, mother.” Aemond nods, “I’ve more pressing matters to attend.” He brushes past them, closing the door to Aegon’s bedchamber behind him.

“What were you thinking?” Alicent demands, in a hushed whisper. “My son pleads for your life and you stand here tempting the very man who-”

“The very man who what?” Y/N dares her to say it. “Killed my brother? Or are you referring to some other atrocity I am not privy to?”

“Your children are in danger, my grandchildren, let me help you.” Alicent reaches for her.

Y/N bats her hand away, “don’t you touch me! My children are in danger because of you.”

“You know what Aemond is.” Kinslayer. Alicent swallows, hard. “My only concern is keeping you safe. What is to stop him from taking out the whole of Aegon’s line to make room for his own? The smallfolk riot in the streets, demanding we open the gates. Even they wish to flee, it is all going to ruin. They need to see you.”

“They will see me as you parade my body through the streets after my murder, not a moment before. I will not betray my mother or her claim.”

“I am not asking you to stand against Rhaenyra, I am asking you to stand for my son. Before it is too late. You owe him this. You forced him onto that saddle as much as I forced him upon the throne.”

“I?” Y/N snaps, “I am the one you blame for this? You think I would have my husband reduced to ash over a fucking chair?”

Alicent presses her lips together, “all Aegon has done is in your name. He rose and he fell for you alone.”

“I wanted this to be peaceful, you know. I truly did and my mother did, then again and again I was taken for a fool.”

“Aegon loves you. He went to meet Rhaenys for you, in hopes of creating new terms with your mother. Mayhaps others have used you, like a pawn to carry out their own agenda, but not Aegon. He never plotted, he never wavered, even in his condition, you are the agenda.”

“And I love him for it, but please know I did not ask him to meet with her. I would have gone myself rather than risk his life. That is why I have not fled, or stole away with my children to Dragonstone. Aegon is equally important to me.”

“You must ready yourself then, in the color of our house.”

“No,” Y/N narrows her eyes, “this is for my husband, who hangs precariously in the balance of life and death. I will attend this procession in the color of mourning, not Hightower green.”

————————————————————————

In the absence of Daemon, Rhaenyra turns to Mysaria for counsel. “You know the ins and outs of King’s Landing better than any. I need an in.”

“Criston Cole made a mistake, parading a dragon’s head through the streets, like a prize of war. The people see an ill omen.” Mysaria tells her.

“Yes, as do I.”

“They are afraid, bread is scarce. The king has fallen, they whisper to each other that when Viserys lived there was peace.” They question the succession.

“But will whispers tear down stone? Break shields?” Save my daughter?

“Do not underestimate them, to the discontented, rumors are feed.” Mysaria continues. “What you cannot do, let others to do for you. There is more than one way to fight a war.”

Part 3

Series Taglist: @oh-you-mean-me @barnes70stark @lovelyteenagebeard @niyahnotnia @narwhal-swimmingintheocean

#house of the dragon #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen #hotd aegon #aegon imagine #aegon targaryen fanfic #aegon ii

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trashland-llamas · 4 months ago

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Ginger!?

[a/n; I wrote this sleep deprived, on the way to Ny (passenger prince, not the driver). Idk what ‘plum as peach’ means either]

[x gn reader]

‘When the fuck were you gonna tell me you used to be a ginger!?’ Reader slammed open the front door as they accuse the vigilante.

Looking up from his romance novel, Jason owlishly blinks at them, ‘Why hello to you too, sweet cheeks.’ Waiting for them to explain what the ruckus was about.

Having just arrived home from the Wayne manor for their weekly spot of tea with Alfred. ‘Guess what Alfred asked me today?’ Reader starts, shucking off their shoes with their bag dropped onto the floor.

They don’t give Jason any time to respond. They never do. The vigilante would just give some half assed bullshit, thinking he was some comedian.

’He asked me if I had ever seen the family photo albums and I told him no, Alfred, I haven’t.’ Digging a finger into their own chest at the word ‘me.’

‘Looked as plum as a peach, he did. So he brings out the photo albums and in it was little Jason. But not brunette.’ The finger now pointing accusatory at him. ‘No, but ginger!’

Jason’s looking at them with hearts in his eyes. If it weren’t for the leftover shock still in their system, they would’ve found it endearing. But alas, for right now, it added fuel to the fire. ‘Don’t look at me like that.’

‘Like what? Like I’m not in love with you? Can’t help it, babe.’ Jason holds up his hands. Almost as if praying for their forgiveness. Atoning for the personal slight he had committed.

‘Dyed it when I young. Then after the pit, it was permanent. Haven’t had to dye it since. It’s why you’ve never seen my roots growing out.’ Reader gave him the evil eye for a second, sussing out whether he was being truthful.

‘You vigilantes, I swear.’ They swore to themselves, going into the kitchen to make two cups of tea. Correctly assuming Jason once again forgot about taking care of his needs with how engrossed he was in his reading.

‘Still love you though, white hair and all,’ Reader whispers before placing a kiss on his temple. Handing him his cup of tea. Jason chuckles, noting that they had finally calmed down.

‘You done being feisty?’

#batman series #dcu #dc universe #jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #fluff

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sexinahandbag · 21 days ago

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Grief Is A B*tch

Pairing: Jason Todd x Amazon!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, alcohol use, language, violence, fluff, angst (if you squint really, really, really hard), Dick and Reader flirt like once or twice, jealous!Jason, Jason and Dick are twenty one, reader is twenty, does not follow canon except for a few things it’s my own little universe, everyone lives in Wayne Manor, SMUT (pinv, oral (m & f receiving), face sitting, riding, family restroom sex)

Summary: Ten years ago your mother, Diana, sent you to train with her friend Bruce Wayne Batman and his "Bat-family." For eight years, that's exactly what you did; you trained with Dick, Jason, and Stephanie, you hung out with them, you went to school with them, basically you did everything with the Bat-fam. After the death of someone incredibly close to you, you decided to leave Gotham and give up the mantle of Alectrona. Now, two years later, you've returned and this time you're ready to be a hero, at least you think so.

a/n: guys i have an alternate ending to this PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT IT

♠︎♠︎♠︎

You huffed as you lugged your suitcase in one hand up the stairs and your one hundred twenty pound Bullmastiff, Brutus, practically pulled you in the other hand. Of course you could easily tame the situation with your super strength, but you’re trying to live like a human. That’s what the last two years have been about: trying to live like a human, giving up the secret identity, putting yourself first for the first time. You pushed open the door to the Wayne Manor, surprised at how easy it was to get in.

“Hello!” You called out, kicking the front door closed behind you. “Your favorite half-Amazon is back!”

You listened carefully for any movement, closing your eyes to really gauge your surroundings, just like how Bruce taught you. You opened one eye when you heard footsteps running from across the house. Two, two sets of footsteps, possibly children. You crossed your arms as the running got closer, waiting for the “attack.” Two boys appeared before you one clearly a child, possibly six to seven, the other an adolescent, possibly twelve to fifteen.

“Halt!” Said the little one, sticking his hand out to stop you from moving farther. “What brings you here? How did you get past our defenses?”

“What? Defenses? There were no outside defenses.” You answered, confusion washing over your face.

“Damian, where’s Titus?” The older one asked, running his hand over his face.

“I told him to guard the door like you asked.” Damian explained.

“Okay, where’s the adults? Where’s Alfred?” You sighed, looking around the foyer.

“Perhaps your monster ate Titus.” Damian claimed, pointing at Brutus.

“How dare you?” You gasped, clutching your chest with your hand. “My Brutus would never- Nope, not getting caught up in this. I’m going to go find Alfred.”

You left your suitcase in the middle of the foyer and walked to the study with Brutus where you knew you could get entrance to the Batcave. You felt the two boys push past you to prevent you from going any further.

“You may not go any farther.” Damian said, crossing his arms to stand his ground.

“If I know how to access the cave, did it maybe cross your mind that I’m important enough to come down here?”

“That is a valid argument.” The older one pointed out.

“Okay, you take this. I need to get to Alfred.” You said, handing Brutus’ leash to the older boy. “And be careful he probably weighs the same as you.”

Before the boys could protest, you sped out of the tunnel and into the cave where you finally found your old friends.

“You know if your new defense system is two annoying little boys, it works great.” You smiled.

“Ms. Prince, we were unaware of your arrival.” Alfred said, surprised as he walked towards you.

“Well, that’s the point of a surprise, no? And before you ask what I’m doing here, I decided it was time for me to come home. Decided I spent plenty of time away trying to figure out who I am, when I realized it was right in front of me the whole time.”

“Congratulations, Ms. Prince. Welcome home.” Alfred smiled before walking past you, towards the tunnel you had just exited from.

You looked around the cave, noting the slight differences. When your eyes landed on him, though, your smile faltered, your gaze hardened a little. You sped in front of him, your hand hesitating to ghost over his face. You took a second before your smile came back and it was like you came back to your senses.

“y/n…”

“I’m sorry, why is there a super clone of my ex-boyfriend, here?” Your eyes wandered over the clone’s body, it had Jason’s face, but as if Jason had been alive the last two years, his face was more mature than the last time you saw it. But the clone didn’t have his body, or his beautiful brown eyes. Instead, he was big, like really big and his eyes were green now. Still gorgeous, but not the brown ones you had fallen in love with. You watched as the soft gaze on the clone got impossibly softer, and somewhat sad.

“Y/n…” Dick said softly, turning towards you.

“I-I’m not a clone. It’s me.” Jason stuttered out, not sure how to deal with this. He was the one that decided it was best not to reach out to you. One night he decided to pay you a visit and by visit he means, he looked into your apartment bedroom from the fire escape and watched you sleep for thirty minutes before you started moving too much for his liking. But, when he saw how peaceful you looked, how you started building your new life, he decided it was just best to let you go. When Jason told you that it was him, your head hung low, and your eyes remained trained to the floor of the cave. You were trying your best not to cry.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I didn’t tell anyone that I was coming home, and I’m not even sure how you found out I was on my way back here. But, this isn’t a funny joke, Dick.” You said quietly, assuming Dick had somehow found out you were on your way back, and had a Jason robot built or a clone made to scare you.

“I wouldn’t—Y/n, I would never do something like that to you.” Dick tried to reach out to you, but you pulled away. Tears were invading your sight as you battled with the thought that the love of your life was possibly alive. If he was alive though, then you felt that meant the last two years could have been completely meaningless.

“He isn’t a clone, it’s Jason.” Bruce said, stepping out from the tunnel you had just gone through. “We would’ve told you sooner, but we thought that it would’ve been better if we just never said anything about the situation to you.”

Your eyes never left the ground as you listened to the people you trusted most, explain to you about how they lied to you about the most precious thing in your life.

“No.” You said softly, swallowing the growing lump in your throat. “Jason is dead. He’s not coming back. I know you guys want to believe that, that is Jason, but I-I…I watched Jason get…beat to a pulp by the Joker, before being forced to leave by Batman.”

The words that you had practiced time over time in your therapist’s office came out of you like the voice wasn’t your own, it was robotic almost. You added a few words for the context of the situation, but other than that, it was almost exact.

“You’re half god and you think resurrection isn’t possible?” Dick asked, narrowing his eyes at you.

“She’s in denial. She’s gone through a lot the last two years dealing with the death of Jason.” Bruce said, crossing his arms while he leaned against the wall, like he was waiting to see how things would play out.

“Which is why I didn’t want anyone to tell you. I saw how good you were finally doing and I didn’t want to ruin anything.” Jason explained.

Your head snapped up as Jason’s words settled in your brain. The tears that once clouded your vision were now dried against your cheeks. If someone looked into your eyes, they wouldn’t see sadness anymore, but anger and maybe disappointment.

“You saw? You came to see me and you didn’t even have the audacity to knock on the damn door?” You were practically shouting at this point. Your fists were clenched at your side and you were seething. Not only did the people you consider family keep the fact your dead boyfriend was alive, a secret from you, but your once-dead-but-now-alive boyfriend saw you, looked into your windows, and didn’t say anything to you. You felt like you were on the world’s worst emotional rollercoaster right now. Your breathing started to quicken as you listened to the boys attempt to explain things to you, all shouting at you at once. You were being pushed to your limits, and sometimes, like now, when you were pushed to your limits, you lost control. As soon as you started talking, you were floating off the ground. “You know Bruce, I was in denial because I couldn’t comprehend the idea that Jason, my Jason, would suddenly come back to life and not even bother to send a fucking text. I couldn’t come to terms with the fact that yo-you wouldn’t even knock on my door or -or send me flowers on Valentine’s Day. I would be more understanding if Bruce told you, you couldn’t see me. But, he didn’t! You made up the decision on your own! You’re a coward, Jason. My Jason wasn’t a coward.”

At this point you were about two feet off the ground. You let out a frustrated groan once you realized you had let your emotions get the better of you for the first time in two years. You put yourself back on the ground and turned on your heel, practically stomping back into the tunnel you came out of.

“We’re so sorry, we didn’t realize who you were at first. If we knew you were y/n—If we knew you were Alectrona we wouldn’t have tried to stop you.” The older boy from earlier explained rapidly. “I’m Tim by the way and this-this is Damian. I also still have your dog so-”

“Give me my damn dog.” You said, accidentally taking the leash a little harder than you intended

♠︎♠︎♠︎

You stood in your room unpacking your suitcase that Alfred had brought up for you. Brutus laid on the bed, taking an undeserving nap as you sped back and forth between your closet and your suitcase. You stopped in your closet and glanced over at your old school uniform, gazing at it fondly, memories of when life was easier flooding your brain. But, suddenly you heard a floor board creak and you quickly dropped your uniform. You grabbed your knife from the inside of your fur coat and stepped out from your closet, throwing it just past the person’s ear as a warning.

“Seriously?” Dick said, ducking slightly. “I knew you were mad, but I didn’t think you were that mad.”

“What do you want, Dick?” You muttered, walking over to your suitcase to zip it up

“How long are you home for?” Dick asked, looking over you for a second before he walked over to your knife and pulled it out of the wall.

“Until I leave again.” You shrugged, crossing your arms.

“That’s not a very solid timeline.” Dick chuckled, walking closer to you.

“I’m back for the foreseeable future. Is that a better timeline?”

“Loving the attitude. Do you wanna talk about it?”

“That was a one time thing.” You said through gritted teeth, pointing your finger at Dick.

“Hey, you know you liked it, I know I liked it.” Dick smirked, holding his hands up. “Why don’t we make the sequel babe?”

“Stop. Being. Gross.” You muttered, punctuating each word with a slap to Dick’s arm.

“Okay, okay.” Dick groaned, rubbing his arm. “I came here to apologize. So, I’m sorry, If I knew you were coming back to Gotham I would’ve told you that Jason was alive, but you didn’t so I couldn’t prepare you for what you would see.”

“Don’t you dare try flipping this on me, Richard John Grayson.” You accused, making Dick cringe at the use of his full name.

“I—Okay, I’m sorry. I should have told you that Jason was back I knew what it would mean to you. I should’ve given you the decision of whether or not you wanted to see him. It wasn’t my place to take that from you. You’re my best friend, and I’m sorry.”

“Why…Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was being a good brother. He asked me not to tell you, I honored his wishes.”

“How many times did you come see me and you knew Jason was alive?”

“Two or three…”

“Which one is it, Dick? Two or three?”

“Four.” Dick squeaked out, cringing slightly, afraid that you would hit him again. You sighed deeply, turning towards Dick fully.

“y/n…”

“I will accept your apology, but there’s been strain in our trust and friendship, Dick.”

“So, I guess now’s a good time as ever to tell you, I’m putting you on patrol with Jason tomorrow, which means you also have training with him tomorrow.” Dick muttered. You squeezed your eyes shut and let your head fall back as you listened to him. “Look, you decided to come back and that’s great, but we need to ease you back into it and I figured who better than Jason? He’s someone you’re comfortable with, someone you know.”

“Someone I know?” You chuckled dryly. “Fine, whatever, that’s…that is fine.”

“It is nice to see you back in Gotham. You look good, gorgeous, some would say you’re practically glowing.” Dick smiled. “I see you’ve gotten a few new ear piercings since the last time I saw you. Wanna tell me about any other piercings you might have gotten?”

“Pleasantries aren’t going to get you anywhere, Dickie.”

“What about dinner then?”

“It could possibly be a start.”

♠︎♠︎♠︎

You groaned as you heard the rapid knocking on your bedroom door, pulling you from the few hours of sleep you had grown accustomed to, causing Brutus to bark at whoever was on the other side.

“Down.” You muttered to him as you walked through your room, causing Brutus to lay back down in his dog bed. You glared as you opened the door, the light from the hallway being a little much. Jason gulped when you opened the door. Your hair was a mess, your eyes were puffy, and you were wearing a shirt that was far too big to be yours, he recognized it as one of his. You may have looked like a mess, but Jason didn’t think so. It reminded him of mornings spent in bed when he could sneak into your room without getting caught by Alfred. It reminded him of when times were good, when there was color in his life.

“What?” You groaned out, leaning between the door and the doorframe.

“We have training.” Jason said rather quickly, keeping his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Since when was training at four in the morning? What happened to three o’clock in the afternoon, when people are properly awake.”

“It’s a long story.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you until I hear an apology anyways.” You smiled lazily, keeping your eyes shut to remain as tired as possible.

“You know I’ve never been one for verbal apologies with you.” Jason smirked.

“y/n…”

“Well, it’s a great day to start learning.” You said before moving to close the door. But, before the door closed, Jason held it open. You cocked an eyebrow as you looked up at him. “You know I can close this door and crush your fingers with it, right?”

“Great, you can also crush my fingers during training.”

“If you think I’m joking about not going anywhere with you, then you must’ve forgotten how stubborn I am. Either that or it’s not really you like I said from the start.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll apologize.” Jason started, letting go of the door. You straightened your shoulders and let go of your own grip on the door, showing you were willing to listen. “I don’t have anything prepared, everything’s off the cuff, so bear with me.”

You watched as Jason took a second to collect himself before speaking, making you cock an eyebrow at him.

“You were right, I am a coward. I convinced myself I was just protecting your peace, pushing you forward and not holding you back. But, the truth is, I wasn’t doing it to protect your peace, I didn’t see you because I figured you wouldn’t want to see me. I was scared of what you would think of me. I was scared that you would say that you didn’t need me anymore. So, yes, I was a coward and I’m sorry. You don’t deserve a coward, you deserve better than that.”

“I woul-” You started, before taking a second and taking a deep breath. “This is why I am so upset you didn’t come to me. I would never tell you I don’t need you. Even if we weren’t together, you would still be someone I’d need in my life. You’re someone I’ll always need in my life, you’re one of my best friends, Jason. When you died, I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t get out of bed, I couldn’t train, I couldn’t talk, I couldn’t eat. All I could do was cry. The only time I had a moment of peace is when I would get those wonderful two to three hours of sleep every night. It was the only time I could see you again. And then, I would wake up and for a few minutes I would forget, and then I would open my eyes and everything came flashing back. How I couldn’t help you, how I had to leave you there. It took me months and constant visits from Bruce and Dick to actually get out of bed, to have the energy to leave your fucking room. To get out and never…never go back. Yes, you coming back probably would’ve disturbed my peace, but that was something I prayed for every night. I prayed that I would get just a couple minutes with you again, just to talk, just to feel you again. And when I finally, finally, accepted that you were gone forever and I was sort of okay with that, here you are, acting like it’s just another Tuesday. You didn’t even give me some sort of sign. A sign—gods, I prayed for a sign from you.”

“If I knew how badly you were hurting, I would’ve rushed to save you, in a second. But, Bruce made it seem like you were doing great. He told me you started a whole new life. He told me you had a great apartment and you were going to Yale. I mean, Yale, why-why would I want to be part of the reason why you stopped going to Yale?”

“I could go back to Yale, I couldn’t get you back.”

You sighed and dropped your head, you had been moving your arms dramatically at this point while trying to get your point across.

“Give me twenty minutes, and I’ll be ready.” You muttered, going to walk back into your room, but Jason stopped the door again.

“No way, sweetheart.” He chuckled. “You think I trust your ability to not crawl back in bed?”

“So, what, are you gonna watch me change like a creep?” You asked, crossing your arms.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before.” Jason smirked and you took a second and nodded, muttering ‘nothing you haven’t seen before’, before opening the door just a little bit further to let Jason in. Jason shut the door behind him as you walked into your bathroom to wash your face. You listened intently as Jason spoke to Brutus with a baby voice.

“You know I don’t need a babysitter, right?” You said from your spot in the bathroom, your mouth full of toothpaste, as you brushed your teeth, after washing your face.

“Do you remember how often you tried to get out of training when we were kids?” Jason asked leaning his forearms against the bathroom doorframe, while his hands hung loosely in the air.

“Of course, some of my greatest excuses were formulated in this room.” You replied after spitting.

“That’s why you need a babysitter.” Jason laughed.

“I do not need a babysitter.” You protested, smacking Jason in the arm with the closest hand towel you could grab. The gears started turning in your head and you realized just how you could get out of training. You moved closer to Jason, but his stance never faltered, he remained leaning against the doorway. Your hands found purchase on Jason’s waist just underneath the compression shirt he was wearing, as you looked up at him through your lashes, a pout forming on your face. “Come on Jay, don’t you just want to stay in bed? We have so much to catch up on.”

Before you could move your hands any farther, Jason pushed your arms away. “No, you can’t use that little charm magic power you have.” Jason said, crossing his arms, the most serious look settled on his face.

Confusion washed over your features and your eyes wandered around the room as you tried to find an answer to your question.

“Wha-What are you talking about?” You asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“You know that fucking thing you do with your voice and face when you want something. It’s like you put on a magic charm or something.” Jason explained. When the realization of what he was saying sunk in, you laughed so hard tears started to form in the corner of your eyes.

“That’s not one of my powers. I use something called manipulation. I know what you like and I use that to my advantage-”

“I know what manipulation is.” Jason cut you off, using a matter-of-tone voice. “You are now, officially, ten percent less cool than I thought you were before.”

“Wow, so what, you think I’m like ninety percent cool now?”

“No, more like seventy five.” Jason shrugged.

“So, you thought I was only eighty five percent cool before.”

“Yeah.” Jason said flatly.

“Wow, that’s…that’s, like, harsh, almost.” You joked, clutching your chest. You closed your eyes, allowing the tears to collect at your waterline before opening your eyes again. “That’s like really mean, Jay. I always thought you were a hundred percent cool.” You cried.

“Shit, please don’t cry—Wait a second, stop trying to manipulate me!”

Your face dropped and you wiped the tears off your face.

“Damn, you’re good at picking up on that.” You muttered, as you pushed past Jason to walk to your closet. Jason tried his hardest not to peer into your closet, keeping his eyes focused on anywhere else in the room. You walked out wearing a black Lululemon sports bra and the matching leggings, hopping around as you pulled on your running shoes.

“Tie this for me, please.” You said, pulling your left foot up onto Jason’s thigh, as you bent over and tied your other shoe; Dick wasn’t the only gymnast, you had been in gymnastics from the ages of four until you were eighteen. Jason sighed and started tying your shoe, like you asked.

You and Jason made the walk to the cave in a somewhat comfortable silence. Jason knew you weren’t fully awake until about two hours after you woke up, so he wasn’t gonna push you to talk. And you had way too many questions circling in your head, that you were uncertain of what you wanted to ask.

“They want me to run a marathon.” Jason said once you reached the training room in the cave. “And they want you to run as long as I do.”

“And by run, I’m assuming, they mean run.” You sighed, tilting your head back slightly. Memories of being pushed to your limit while using your powers flooded your brain.

“Yeah.” Jason muttered, looking at his hands. He had first hand experience in just how much harder you were pushed than everyone else. He knew how much you hated it.

“Do they even have a treadmill that goes six thousand miles per hour for almost three hours anymore?”

“You mean like the one you used to have when we were kids? Like that one right there?” Jason pointed to the treadmill in front of him and you groaned at the familiar sight of it. In high school and middle school, Bruce would make you run at your top speed for hours on end. He would always make you stop right before you passed out, but he would push you to that limit nonetheless. You sighed as you climbed onto your treadmill, pressing the big red start button. Your treadmill went as fast as you did, so you wouldn’t have to go so fast from the start, you could build your way up to six thousand miles per hour. You closed your eyes and focused on the music playing through your headphones as you built up speed.

♠︎♠︎♠︎

You stepped off the treadmill a short three and a half hours later, panting a little from using your powers for so long.

“You good?” Jason asked, panting hard.

“Better than you.” You joked, straightening up once you started to feel better.

“Ready to spar?”

“Don’t you need like, fifteen minutes?”

“I’m fine.” Jason huffed, in that tone of voice you knew not to fight with. You shot him one last look before heading over to the sparring ring.

You wrapped your hands up, not for your comfort, but for Jason’s. You knew when you hit, it hurt, and you would do anything, especially when it comes to training with another person, to ensure their safety.

After a few rounds of back and forth between you and Jason, you finally let him pin you to the mats. The last time Jason had you pinned like this, it was not nearly as innocent as this sparring session had been. You could easily break out of his pin if you wanted to, but you hadn’t been this close to Jason in years, and you wanted it to last just a little longer. Hell, you wanted it to last as long as it could, because you didn’t know when you would be this close to him again. You still were trying to figure out if this was some sick lucid dream or not. But, you would take the moments where you could get them.

“Stop holding back.” Jason groaned, his grip on your wrists tightening.

“I’m not holding back.” You said, as you pretended to struggle against him.

“Come on, baby, you know you have fifty four ways to get out of this.” Jason teased, smirking down at you. He adjusted his position slightly, grinding his hips against yours in the process on accident. “Shit, I-”

You cut Jason off by bucking your hips up against his and pushing him to the side with your hips. You moved to straddle him before swinging your right leg around his left arm, twisting around quickly so you were laying on the ground next to him, with his arm trapped between your twisting legs, while your arms pulled up on his arm.

“You’re right, baby, I do have fifty four ways of getting out of that. You’re lucky I went with the least painful option.” You teased back, pulling his arm up further to inflict more pain. Jason attempted to move his arm up with you on it, but found it quite hard.

“Alright, alright, you win.” Jason sighed, tossing his head back against the mats. You removed yourself from Jason’s arm with a smug look on your face, before standing up and offering your hand to Jason to help him up. You watched as Jason eyed you suspiciously.

“I’m not gonna drop you. I’m not you.” You protested, rolling your eyes. As soon as your eyes hit the back of your head, you felt Jason grab your hand. You quickly helped him up, despite the sickening feeling in your stomach, which felt wildly similar to nerves.

“I’ll see you tonight.” Jason said quickly before turning and walking out of the cave.

You muttered a quiet ‘what?’ to yourself in confusion, while looking around. You followed Jason quietly out of the cave, keeping your distance from him.

When you walked out of the study and into the kitchen, where you were hoping to find Alfred, you were greeted by Tim being pulled around by Brutus, while he sat in a wagon that was clearly too small for him.

“It seems Master Drake has taken a liking to your dear Brutus.” Alfred smiled when he saw you.

“Alfred, can I talk to you?” You asked, twisting your fingers.

“Oh dear, I haven’t heard that tone since you were in high school.” Alfred said, dropping what he was doing to turn the stove off and take off his apron. “Let’s go somewhere more private.”

You followed Alfred to the library, where he sat on a couch and you paced in front of him.

“I…had…sex with Dick.” You muttered quietly as you came to stop in front of him, your head hanging low. “And before, I felt fine about my decision. I was secure in it. But now, Jason’s back? And I feel guilty not telling him, you know? I mean I was single when it happened, technically. I thought Jason was gone, Dick thought Jason was gone, everyone thought Jason was gone. I mean am I obligated to tell him? I feel like I should, like my gut is telling me that I should.”

“Oh, dear Lord, I figured this day would come. Truthfully, I thought it would come when you were in high school, but you know, you started dating Jason. When did this happen?”

“About a year ago.” You answered quietly, biting on your thumb nail.

“When Master Grayson was in Paris?” Alfred gasped.

“Now is not the time for details Alfred. What do I do?”

At this point you were so nervous you were floating six inches off the floor.

“Do you think the two of you have a chance at getting back together?”

“y/n…”

“Well, there’s definitely a flirty undertone when we talk. And during training he called me baby.” You bit on the knuckle of your index finger as you watched Alfred’s reaction of disbelief.

“Well, Ms. Prince, I would say you should tell Master Todd about your relations with Master Grayson. It seems as if he has hope for the two of you getting back together. If he does, then it’s fair to ensure he has all the possible information.”

You nodded as you took in Alfred’s words. “Thanks, Alfred, I actually think I know what I need to do.”

“Are you going to tell Master Todd?”

“No, I’ve decided I’m going to kill them both so I don’t have to deal with any fallout.” You shrugged. “It would be quick too, they wouldn’t even realize.”

“Ms. Prince…” Alfred said carefully, suddenly startled.

“Ugh, I’m just joking, Alfred. Yes, I am going to tell Jason that I slept with Dick.” You explained, your hands flopping around in the air as you spoke.

“You had me startled there for a second. Well played, Ms. Prince.” Alfred chuckled.

♠︎♠︎♠︎

Later that night, you made your way down to the cave, where you found your suit. Bruce had a few changes made to it, but it was still essentially the same.

“Hello, old friend.” You whispered as you picked up your suit. You quickly changed and met Jason by his bike.

“You know I can fly, right?” You asked as you pointed limply towards Jason’s bike.

“And have you get hurt or kidnapped because I let you out of my sight? No chance.” Jason helped you climb onto the back of his bike, giving you no chance to protest. He handed you a helmet and you cocked an eyebrow at him, before staring back at the helmet. “Put it on.”

“I hate to pull this card, but, do you like, know who I am?”

“Yes, and I know you think you’re invincible, but you’re not. So, for my sanity, please put it on.”

You huffed and pulled the helmet on, letting Jason make sure everything was alright, before tapping the helmet twice with his hand. As soon as he was on the bike, your arms wrapped around his waist. You felt as Jason jerked away at first, before leaning into your touch.

“Comms check.” You heard Tim say through the communications piece you had in your ear, once you and Jason entered downtown Gotham about twenty minutes later.

“All good.” You and Jason returned at the same time, shouting over the wind that whipped around you two.

“Okay, you guys can’t speak at the same time otherwise I can’t differentiate between you two.”

“We’re good, Tim!” You shouted, wrapping yourself slightly closer to Jason, enjoying his warmth that covered you like a blanket, protecting you from the cold air of the night.

“Alright, the deal’s going down in the old toy factory on third avenue. Wait in the alley until you see a guy in a tan suit enter. Then, you can head in.”

Jason turned off the bike as he pulled up to the old factory and pulled back into the alley across the street.

“So, how long have you been back?” You asked Jason in a lowered voice, ensuring no one could hear you, placing your hands behind you and holding all your weight against them, as you let your legs dangled off the side of the bike.

“About six months.” Jason answered, keeping his eyes trained on the building in front of you.

“And your first instinct was to go to the manor?”

“After I got out of the hospital and away from Ra’s Al Ghul, my first instinct was to find you. The last place I knew you were was the manor.”

“How long did it take you to find me?”

“Not very long. Dick kind of gave up your address the first time I asked for it.”

You pursed your lips and nodded understandingly, not that Jason could see it.

“Hey, isn’t that the guy Tim said to look out for?” You pointed towards the guy that was walking into the factory.

“Alright, I’m heading in.” Jason said, getting off the bike.

“What? What do you mean you’re heading in?” You whisper shouted, as you took your helmet off.

“I mean, I’m heading in.” Jason whispered back.

“There’s no way you’re going in there alone.” You protested quietly.

“It is way too dangerous in there for you.” Jason said through gritted teeth.

“You need to stop treating me like I’m porcelain, Jason. I was quite literally made for this.”

“No, your mom was made for this. You just so happened to inherit her powers.”

“I am going to choose to ignore that out of kindness. I guarantee I can go in there and do the job in a quarter of the time it takes you. No one would even see me.”

“You’re not going in there.” Jason reaffirmed.

“One of you needs to get in there, now.” Tim said over the comms.

You rolled your eyes and sat back down on the bike.

“If I come out screaming, ‘go, go, go,’ jump in the front and take off. I know you think I won’t catch up, but I will. Just go and I will jump on the back when I catch up.” Jason explained.

“Fine.” You huffed, crossing your arms.

After fifteen minutes of sitting around doing nothing, you heard gunshots ring out from the factory, followed by Jason running out frantically screaming “go, go, go.” You panicked for a second before starting the bike and pulling out of the alley. You listened intently as you heard bullets being shot from behind you and the heavy feet of Jason, stomping along the road as he followed you. When you felt Jason jump onto the back of the bike, you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in.

“What happened in there?” You shouted over the comms.

“I fucked up.” Jason admitted, before turning around half way to shoot back at the car that was following us.

“I told you I could go in and finish that job in a quarter of your time without anyone even seeing me! But, no, you just had to be the one who did it!”

“I can’t hear you! I’m too busy trying to protect our asses!”

“Do you trust me?”

“Is this really the time-”

“Do you trust me?” You repeated, a little louder this time.

“Fuck…Yes, yes I trust you!”

“Good, I need you to take over!”

Once you felt Jason’s arms come around you and take over the driving, you turned around so you were facing Jason, pulling his guns out of his holsters in the process. You peered around Jason’s shoulder and started shooting at the car, making sure to aim for the tires you planned to make flat. But, you’re not exactly the best shot, and when you accidentally hit something beside the tire, the car blew up.

“Woah, when did you become a good shot?” Jason asked, as you slid his guns back into their holsters.

“Wouldn’t exactly say that.” You muttered, turning around to face the correct way. But, when you turned around, you got a whiff of something, something metallic. “Are you bleeding? Did you get fucking shot?”

“I’m fine.” Jason said through gritted teeth.

You pushed Jason’s hands off the handles and took over driving.

“You need to apply pressure to that!” You shouted, nudging Jason’s arm with your elbow.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” Jason reassured you, as he moved his hand to cover the wound.

It wasn’t long before you were pulling back into the cave, where you were greeted by Alfred and Tim.

“Good news, it’s just a graze on your arm, but you will still need stitches.” Alfred said as he checked Jason’s arm. “I think Ms. Prince should be the one to patch you up. It will be a good chance to catch up on her first aid.”

“Are you sure-” Jason started but was soon cut off by Alfred and Tim walking out of the cave.

You sighed and went to grab a suture kit, as Jason hopped up on the exam table.

“Can you take your shirt off, please?” You asked quietly, as you moved to stand in front of Jason. But, when Jason didn’t move, you grew concerned. “Jason, please, can you take off your shirt?”

“It’s—It’s not a pretty sight under there.” Jason said quietly, hanging his head low.

“Jason, I don’t care how scarred you are, I mean I do, just not right now. I’m focused on getting this wound closed.”

Jason hesitated for a second before taking his shirt off. Suddenly, you understood why Jason didn’t want you to see him without a shirt on. Your hands ghosted along his scars, your fingers tracing them lightly. Jason’s eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of your fingers on his skin.

“y/n…”

When your mind caught up with your body, you took a step back and cleared your throat. You moved to Jason’s left side and slipped on a pair of sterilized gloves after washing your hands. Taking a deep breath, you opened the suture kit.

“If you don’t want to do this-”

“I got it.” You muttered, applying a local anesthetic to the wound area. Carefully, you cleaned the wound, making sure that any bullet fragments were removed.

After a short twenty minutes, you finally finished stitching up Jason.

“Finally.” Jason groaned out as he pulled his shirt back on.

“Maybe if you didn’t move around so much, I would’ve been able to finish faster.” You smiled, to show you were joking, as you moved around the table, collecting the bloody gauze.

“I thought about what you said this morning.” Jason said, breaking through the silence. “I should’ve left you some sort of sign or let Dick tell you that I was alive. If I knew how badly you were hurting, I would’ve done anything to ease that pain.”

“I slept with Dick.” You blurted out. You watched as Jason went through a handful of emotions, before he got off the exam table and walked towards the tunnel.

“Jay, Jay, please.” You pleaded, tears collecting at your waterline, clinging onto his arm to keep him with you, so you could at least talk. But, Jason just shrugged your arm off of him. “Please can we just talk, Jay?”

“So all that bullshit about how you were so upset you couldn’t even function, was just that then? Bullshit?”

“What? No, of course not. Everything I said was true. I would never lie to you, you know that. Dick was just a one time thing. He came to see me while I was in Paris and things just happened. But, it didn’t mean anything, I swear. We thought you were dead and never coming back. Dick was the only one who understood what I was going through at the time and he was just there.”

“So now you’re just having meaningless sex?”

“No, Jason, god. But, it’s not like I was in a committed relationship anymore. Again, as far as I knew you were dead. Even if you were still gone, did you expect me to stay single forever?”

“I didn’t think you’d sleep with my brother!”

You opened your mouth to say something but no words would come out.

“That’s what I thought.” Jason scoffed before turning back around and leaving the cave.

♠︎♠︎♠︎

You were walking through the hall, when you felt someone grab your elbow and pull you down another hall.

“What the hell, Dick?” You muttered, but when you really looked at him, you could see the black eye that was still settling and his busted lip. “Oh, shit.” You tried to stifle your laugh, but your smile still broke through.

“I talked to Jason.” Dick said as his hands settled on either side of your head, trapping you in place. “Why would you tell him?”

“He deserved to know, Dick.”

“He’s not entitled to knowing anything you did outside of the relationship. And if you really felt like you needed to tell Jason, then you should’ve come to me first.”

“Why? So you can get a head start?” You teased, trying to hide your smirk, but Dick didn’t find it funny. You sighed and rolled your eyes. “Look, why don’t we go to the club tonight? The three of us, like when we were in high school, just without the fake I.D.’s. Come on, Dickie, it’ll be fun.”

“Fine.” Dick huffed, taking a step away from you.

As you started to walk away, you turned back around and smiled, saying, “Oh, and if you try something like that again, I’ll make sure it’s the last thing you do, for a while.”

You continued your path down the hallway into the library, where you found Alfred dusting the books.

“Oh, good, Alfred, just the person I was looking for.” You said, closing the door behind you. “I did what you told me to.”

“I figured as much when Master Grayson greeted me this morning with a fresh black eye and still bleeding split lip. How did it go with Master Todd, though?”

“Dick getting beat up didn’t give it away?”

“I figured Master Grayson receiving a beating was inevitable.” Alfred shrugged. “So, not good then?”

“No, Alfred, not good.” You huffed, throwing yourself down on a couch. “I mean, what if Jason never speaks to me again?”

“Trust me, Ms. Prince, Master Todd is a young man, who you’ve had past relations with, he will speak to you again.”

“Do you think he’ll speak to me today?” You asked, sitting up a little straighter now.

“I wouldn’t push it, Ms. Prince.” Alfred answered and you slumped back against the couch.

♠︎♠︎♠︎

You sat at your vanity, focusing on your eyeliner, with the door open, when you saw Jason walk past your room. You quickly paused your music and ran out into the hallway, not minding that the only thing you were wearing was your silk robe.

“Jason.” You started after you stopped in front of him, your arms crossed and your weight resting on one foot. “Do you want to come to the club with Dick and I tonight?”

“And be a third wheel? No thanks.” Jason scoffed, before he moved around you and continued on his way. You grabbed his elbow and pulled him back towards you, his weight not being a problem compared to your strength.

“You wouldn’t be a third wheel. Come on, when was the last time the three of us went out together, just to have some fun?”

“Fine.” Jason huffed, his hard face faltering when he saw your face light up with excitement as you jumped up and down, clapping, while you cheered. When you realized what you were doing, you quickly stopped and cleared your throat.

“Um, so you should get ready. The pregame is in Dick’s room.” You chuckled awkwardly, pointing finger guns at Jason, earning a raised eyebrow from him. You quickly turned on your heel and headed back to your room, silently swearing at yourself for your embarrassing actions.

♠︎♠︎♠︎

You sat in Dick’s room on the couch playing Mario Kart with him, as the two of you waited Jason to join. Beerio was always the go-to pregame for the three of you, but, specifically the Wii addition. When you saw Jason walk in, you put your controller down on the couch and walked towards him.

He looked good, like embarrassingly good, like you just wanted his attention, and his attention only, all night.

“Wow, you do remember how to dress for the club.” You smiled as you looked over Jason shamelessly.

When Jason saw you, he could feel his breath get caught in his throat. No matter how mad he was at you, his body would always have a reaction to you, his brain would always short circuit when he saw you.

“Took a couple tries, but I got there eventually.” Jason muttered, causing you to smile.

“y/n…”

“We’re playing your favorite game, if you want to join.” You offered with the same smile still on your face.

“I guess I’ll play a couple rounds of Beerio.”

You and Jason made your way over to the couch and you couldn’t help but feel worried; worried that the two boys wouldn’t speak to each other, worried that the night could be a bust, worried that the two boys would get into a fight.

Dick stood from his spot on the couch as you and Jason approached, sizing Jason up.

“Nice eye.” Jason smirked from behind you.

“Want a matching one?” Dick responded, a scowl forming on his face.

“Okay, we’re not gonna do that tonight.” You interjected, holding your hands up to the boys’ faces. “What is going to happen, now that you’re both here, is you two are gonna talk to one another, apologize to each other, and kiss and make up. What I’m gonna do is walk out that door and hold the door shut so neither of you can leave. Oh, and good luck going out the window, I put a landmine under it.”

“That is psychotic.” Dick said to you, his eyes wide.

“I told you about it, didn’t I?”

You pushed past Jason to walk out of Dick’s room. You closed the door behind you and listened in on the two boys.

“Okay, well, we’re trapped in here.” Jason sighed, sitting down.

“Thank you, for pointing out the obvious, Jay.” Dick replied, following Jason’s movements to sit on the couch. “She could be bluffing.”

“She’s not, she used the same tone of voice she uses when she thinks she’s in the right and everyone else is wrong.” Jason pointed out.

“Well, then, we’re gonna have to do what she’s asking for. And she’s probably listen to our every word, so it’s not like we can pretend we made up just to get out of here.”

“I know what you’re trying to do, Dick!” You called from the hallway. You raised your eyebrows as you heard Dick groan in frustration.

“Okay, fine, let’s just get this over with.” Dick muttered.

“Fine by me.” Jason replied.

“Well, you obviously aren’t gonna go first, so I’ll go.” Dick started after waiting for Jason to speak first. “I’m sorry, I slept with your…with y/n. It was wrong and I shouldn’t have done it.”

“And I’m sorry I jumped you while you were coming out of your room this morning.” Jason apologized. “I just have a couple of questions.”

“Okay…” Dick said hesitantly, narrowing his eyes at Jason.

“Did you have feelings for her before I…” Jason asked, avoiding the use of the word ‘died’.

“No, no, I wouldn’t do that to you. You were in love with her like the second you met her. It was just like a heat of the moment thing.”

“Do you still have feelings for her?”

The fact that Dick and Jason knew you could hear them, made Dick more uncomfortable than he’s ever been before. You listened intently as Dick shifted around in his seat.

“I don’t—No, no, I don’t.” Dick answered, swallowing the lump in his throat.

You walked back in with a smile on your face.

“Well done, boys.” You cheered.

“Go disarm the bomb.” Jason said, pointing towards the window.

“Ugh, fine.” You groaned, tilting your head back. “But, Tim and I did have a bet on who would blow up first, so…”

“Go disarm the bomb.” Jason repeated, raising his voice a little this time.

You sped outside and quickly disarmed and removed the bomb and made your way back to Dick’s room before either of them were able to get three words out to each other.

“Anyone up for Beerio?” You asked with a smile as you pushed your hair out of your face.

After about three hours of pregaming, you, Jason, and Dick stood at the top of the staircase, figuring out how to get down the quietest way possible.

“I could just fly us down.” You offered quietly.

“Do you know how demeaning that is?” Dick asked, his words slurring a little.

But, a few minutes later, you were flying down the stairs, while holding onto the two dumbest men you’ve ever met.

“Where do you three think you’re going?” Bruce asked, flicking on the light in the foyer. Out of shock, you dropped both of the boys and your hands clasped around your mouth, an attempt at trying to hold your laughter back.

“We were just going out for some adult fun.” You explained as you made your way back to the floor, your heels clinking against the hardwood, and the boys scrambled to their feet.

“Dressed like that? Not a chance.” Bruce chuckled.

“Bruce, I’m not a kid anymore you can’t tell me what to wear.” You protested, crossing your arms.

“My house, my rules.” Bruce smirked, making you scowl deeply, the reminder of ‘my house, my rules’ from your childhood leaving a bad taste in your mouth.

“I’ll do an extra night of patrol next week.” You offered, sighing deeply.

“Boys?”

“I will train with Damian, twice, next week.” Dick said, his head hanging.

“I’ll tag onto that extra night of patrol.” Jason smirked, crossing his arms.

“You may go. But, stop trying to sneak out, it never works well for you three.”

“Wait, how did you know we were leaving?” Dick asked.

“You three aren’t exactly the pinnacle of quiet.”

♠︎♠︎♠︎

Jason swore he was going to break the glass in his hand as he watched you dance with Dick. He watched as Dick’s hands slid up your hips over the leather of your red mini skirt, up to your waist, where he teased the skin under your matching red, leather, strapless corset top you were wearing. When Jason’s eyes met Dick’s, Dick smirked and traced his teeth along the column of your throat, placing a kiss at the base of your neck. You broke out of Dick’s hold and made your way over to Jason, with a smile on your face.

“You can’t have fun if you’re brooding in the corner.” You joked, grabbing his hand to pull him towards the crowd of people.

“You seem like you’re having fun.” Jason replied, remaining stuck in his spot.

“I’d be having more fun if it was you I was dancing with. Dick is fine on his own, I’m sure he’s already found someone else to dance with. I want to dance with you.”

Jason set his glass down and let you pull him into the crowd. You had lost Dick, but you didn’t really mind. You were just focused on the beat of the music and how well your hips moved with Jason’s.

“y/n…”

But, back at the manor, things were going differently than you thought they would be going. Alfred and Bruce sat in the study as Alfred caught Bruce up on the drama going on between you, Jason, and Dick.

“So, what about you, Master Wayne, which ‘couple’ are you rooting for? Master Drake and the younger Master Wayne have both placed their wagers.” Alfred said.

“I am rooting for peace, Alfred.” Bruce replied flatly.

“I know you better than that, Master Wayne, you have your mind made up.” Bruce smirked softly at Alfred’s comment and looked down at his glass of scotch.

“You’re right Alfred, I do have my mind made up.”

About two hours later, you and Jason had Dick’s arms draped across your shoulders as you walked outside the club.

“Can we get Taco Bell?” Dick asked, his words slurring together.

“Yes, we can get Taco Bell.” You laughed, patting Dick’s chest with your free hand. You looked over at Jason—who wasn’t too far behind Dick in terms of drunkness, but was definitely more coherent—to see him already looking at you. You sent him a small smile, which he returned with a lazy one, too busy focusing on carrying Dick and trying to walk straight. You walked into the Taco Bell that was just across the street from the club and it was packed with people. The three of you walked up to the self-older kiosk, with you standing at the kiosk, putting in everything the boys slurred at you. When it was time to pay, Dick tried to push you to the side as you dug through your purse for your wallet.

“It’s ok, Bruce’s got it.” Dick assured you, as he took out his black card.

“No, it’s fine, my mom will pay for it.” You responded, pulling out a similar black card.

Ah, it was time for your favorite game: ‘Which Rich Kid’s Parent Is Going to Pay for the Most Mundane Thing?’ Before you and Dick could end your stare off and incessant babbling of ‘No, really, it’s fine,’ Jason inserted his own black card into the card reader.

“Sorry, I’m hungry. And you guys were taking too long.” Jason whined.

The three of you found a table, once your food was called, and sat down. Jason sat next to you and Dick sat on the opposite side of the booth.

“Come on, baby, let’s just ditch Dick and go back to the manor, just you and me.” Jason whispered in your ear. His arms were wrapped around your waist as Jason nipped at your ear lobe softly.

“We’ll be right back.” You said to Dick as you dragged Jason out of the booth and towards the family restroom. You quickly locked the door and turned back towards Jason.

“We can’t leave Dick here, Jason.” You muttered quietly as Jason started his attack on your neck, leaving quickly healing marks littered around your collarbone.

“Why not? You can’t dance like we’re fucking for two hours and tell me you aren’t a little worked up.” Jason said, his hands pushing your skirt up to paw at your ass.

“Because, he’s barely coherent.” You explained, threading your fingers through his dark locks, tugging lightly.

“Come on, baby, just a little quickie, at least.”

It wasn’t long before Jason had you bent over the sink of the family restroom, your skirt bunched up around your waist with your thong pulled to the side. Jason’s hands gripped your ass cheeks, spreading them apart to see where the two of you connected, evidence of your first orgasm as a ring at the base of his cock.

“Did Dick fuck you this good, baby, hm?” Jason asked, leaning forward to talk in your ear.

“No, J-Jay, j…just you-u.” You moaned out, your hands gripping the sink so hard, it was starting to crumble under your strength, as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You were trying to stay as quiet as possible, praying no one would hear you. But, Jason was making it hard with the way he was touching you and grunting in your ear.

“Doing so good for me, baby. Taking me so well.” Jason grunted, his thrusts starting to become sloppier. Your wet, warm cunt squeezing around Jason’s cock was enough to egg him on, tossing his head back as his hips snapped against yours. Jason couldn’t help himself from staring into the mirror, watching as your face contorted with pleasure. “So fucking pretty like this.”

It wasn’t long before that familiar feeling started creeping up on you. A few thrusts later and both you and Jason were coming. Jason’s head hung low as he panted loudly, his grip harsh on your hips still. Your eyes wandered up the mirror, looking at Jason through the mirror, smiling like you had done all the work and now you were looking at your masterpiece. Jason pulled out of you slowly and stepped back from you as he fixed his pants. You adjusted your own clothes before stepping out of the bathroom and quickly making your way back over to Dick, who had half a taco hanging out of his mouth as he started to drift off to sleep.

“No way, did you two just have sex?” Dick slurred, glaring at you and Jason.

“No.” You answered flatly, looking at your phone.

You called an Uber for the three of you and cleaned up the trash, before you and Jason hauled Dick outside. The three of you weren’t standing outside long before your Uber pulled up.

♠︎♠︎♠︎

When you walked into your room, you thanked the gods you had asked Tim to take care of Brutus for the night. Jason kicked the door to your room closed behind him, his grip on your hips never faltering as he kissed you delicately.

This wasn’t like the drunken mess in the bathroom, this was soft, patient. Jason’s hands only left your hips to hold on to your face, his thumb caressing your cheekbone softly. You quickly unbuttoned his black button up, not hesitating to use your speed as you unbuttoned it, before quickly pushing it down his shoulders and arms. All while Jason fumbled with the knot of your corset top. Frustrated with it, Jason just opted for tearing the top off of you, muttering ‘sorry’s’ and promises of buying you a new one against your lips.

“That was Dior, baby.” You whined as the back of your knees hit the bed, forcing you to sit down.

“y/n…”

“Like I said, I’ll buy you another one.” Jason shrugged after he kicked off his shoes and started working on his belt. You leaned forward and put your hands on Jason’s waist as you peppered kisses along his abs. You caught Jason’s cock before it could slap against your chin. Slowly, you teased Jason’s tip with your thumb, spreading his pre-cum all the way down his shaft, as you continued your assault of kisses on his stomach. Soon enough, you averted your kisses away from his abs to where you knew he really wanted your lips. You pressed delicate kisses to Jason’s tip before licking a stripe up the underside of his cock. You bobbed your head down one, two, three times, watching as Jason was a groaning mess above you. His hand gripped your hair tightly, sightly guiding your head as he thrusted into your mouth. At this point, Jason had taken over most of the work and you could feel your own arousal dripping down your legs along with Jason’s cum and your own. You may have forgotten how big Jason was, but your body didn’t. It was like instinct the way your throat opened up for Jason. You could feel Jason’s thrusts start to get sloppier as he got closer to his release. You pulled your head back, letting go of Jason’s cock with a pop.

“Sorry, baby, the only place I want you coming tonight is inside of me.” You said, slightly shaking your head as you ran your thumb nail over the vein on the underside of Jason’s cock, slowly. You guided Jason to lay down on your bed, his head hitting the pillows softly. He watched as you stood up at the side of the bed and pulled down your skirt and thong, leaving you only in your heels. Jason’s hand came up to your hip, massaging it softly, as you walked closer to the bed. You climbed onto the bed and crawled over Jason so you straddled his abs, your fingers tracing invisible patterns on his chest as you looked down at Jason with the dirtiest look in your eyes.

“Jay, I have a question for you.” You started softly, tracing some random scars that ran across Jason’s chest. “Can I sit on your face?”

Jason didn’t say anything in reaponse, he just grabbed your thighs and pulled you up so you were positioned above his face. The suddenness of Jason’s actions had you grabbing the headboard to prevent you from falling forward. Jason’s hands snaked around your thighs, pulling you down flat against his tongue. You gasped out at the sudden feeling of pleasure, causing you to arch your back and press yourself further down against Jason’s face, his nose bumping into your clit. He licked a stripe through your folds, sending goosebumps up your spine. You grinded against Jason’s face, forcing his tongue impossibly deeper inside you. The noises that left your mouth as Jason lapped at your cunt could be labeled as pornographic.

God, you had waited for this moment for so long, to be able to touch and feel and be with Jason. Now, the two of you were catching up the best you knew how; by proving to each other just how well you remember each other’s bodies. Sex was such a big part of your relationship before, mainly because you were horny teenagers, but it happened any time you were stressed from being worked so hard by Bruce or stressed from yet another day of training, going to school, and then staying up most of the night to fight the never ending crime of Gotham, or if you just wanted to be closer to each other, more intimate.

A particularly sharp bite to your inner thigh, brought you out of your thoughts and made you squeal.

“Sorry, baby, I was losing you.” Jason said from between your thighs, before pressing a soft kiss to your clit. “What were you thinking about, my love?”

You rolled your eyes at the game Jason wanted to play. He loved hearing you talk during sex, it let him know just how good he was doing.

“Don’t want to talk about it.” You whined, trying to grind yourself against Jason’s face, but he held you in place. Jason wouldn’t do anything until you spoke, he would make you sit here until you suffocated him. You huffed and Jason took this as a good sign as he started eating you out again. “Just thinking…ab…ab…about us.” You managed to moan out. You smiled as Jason allowed you to start moving again, letting you get the amount of friction you wanted. After a particularly good swipe of his tongue, Jason had you grabbing his hair with your hands. You weren’t pulling hard, just kind of had them there. “A-and…how…much-h…I-I…missed…you…a-an-” You were cut off by a loud moan that had you blushing. You were close, Jason could tell you were close. Jason sped up his attack on your dripping cunt, focusing more on your clit. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, as your orgasm washed over you, your thighs clamping down roughly around Jason’s head. Gasps and little moans made their way out of your mouth, mixing with the other sounds of the room. Jason lapped at your folds, trying to collect all your juices. You moved back slightly so you could lean down and kiss Jason, tasting yourself on him.

“Come on, baby, stop being such a tease.” Jason joked, smiling up at you as his hands rested on your waist.

“I’m not teasing.” You smirked. “Sometimes I just like to kiss my handsome boy.”

You could feel Jason’s tip twitch against your ass after you said that. Repositioning yourself above Jason’s hard length, you lined up Jason’s tip with your dripping entrance, and started to lower yourself onto it. Slowly, you took inch after inch until Jason was fully inside you.

Jason always thought you gorgeous in every way, but he definitely thought you were the most gorgeous like this; stuffed to the brim with him, your back arched, tits on full display, and making the prettiest little noises he’s ever heard.

Jason’s hands found residence on your waist to help guide you as you moved up and down. For the first few minutes, you moved your hips slowly to antagonize Jason.

“You’re killing me here, babe.” Jason groaned, his head hitting the pillow. “Keep going this slow and I might have to take over.”

“Baby, I could give you friction burn if I wanted to.” You smiled sweetly. “Let me have my fun.”

Eventually, you did pick up speed, giving you and Jason the pleasure you both so desperately wanted. Your hands gripped onto Jason’s thighs, letting you lean back on your hands for support. The change in the angle allowed Jason’s cock to touch a place it hadn’t touched yet, causing you to let out a loud moan.

“Feels so good, Jay.” You moaned out. You weren’t one for talking during sex, but you knew Jason liked to hear how he made you feel, it let him know he was doing what he was supposed to be doing.

You started to pick up the pace as you felt your orgasm approaching. Everything was starting to become almost too much. The wet sounds coming from your cunt, the smell of sex in the room, the feeling of Jason’s cock buried deep inside you, reaching places only he could. Your senses were on fire. Your jaw hung low and your eyes squeezed shut as your orgasm washed over you violently. Jason leaned up and wrapped his arms around you. He placed soft kisses along your neck as he solely moved you up and down, helping you ride out your high.

“Think you got a couple more in you?” Jason whispered in your ear as you crumpled in his hands. All you could do was nod in return, letting Jason move both of you so you were laying on your back now. You had a feeling it was gonna be a long night.

♠︎♠︎♠︎

After a couple of hours and countless orgasms from you both, Jason and you were on your sides, your leg was thrown over Jason’s hip as he thrusted into you slowly, placing kisses along your neck and whispering sweet nothings into your ear. You and Jason had agreed this was the last round of the night, but even after you both finished, neither one of you wanted to let go. You were afraid to fall asleep, incase you woke up and found yourself back in your apartment in Connecticut. But, as long as you were touching Jason, you convinced yourself you were safe. You were always safe as long as you had Jason nearby.

“y/n…”

You reached your hand behind you and threaded your fingers through Jason’s hair. A warm tear ran down your face and it was like Jason could feel a change in the air.

“Whats wrong, my love?” Jason asked softly, stopping his movements immediately.

“What’s…What’s my name?” You asked hesitantly, closing your eyes as you could feel more tears coming to your eyes.

“What?” Jason asked, clearly confused.

“You’re the only one, since I’ve been back, who hasn’t said my name.”

“Baby, I know your name.”

You let one more tear go before slowly pulling yourself off of Jason and standing up at the side of the bed.

“Jason loved my name.” You said quietly. “He said it was the most beautiful thing he ever heard of. And Jason never called me ‘baby,’ he said I deserved better nicknames than that. I guess, I should’ve realized what was going on earlier when we were training, when you called me ‘baby’. And that treadmill? Bruce got rid of that treadmill after I flew off of it…this-this is a dream, right?”

You watched as Jason’s soft gaze hardened.

“Baby, come back to bed.” He insisted.

“No. I’ve read studies on Lucid Dreaming, acknowledging you’re in a dream, tends to piss the dream people off. Maybe I should’ve realized it when we were on patrol; Jason, my Jason, didn’t treat me like porcelain.”

You turned to walk towards the door, it had to be the way out.

“Please, don’t go.” You heard Jason plead as you walked towards the door. “Are you really gonna leave me? Just like you did the night I died? The night Joker murdered me?”

Your eyes flickered to the ground, before you wrapped your hand around the doorknob and yanked it open.

“y/n!”

You woke up with a jolt in your apartment in Connecticut. You were breathing so hard, you were worried you might actually have a heart attack.

“Oh, thank God.” Dick muttered, his head dropping.

“Dick…Dick what-what are you doing here?” You asked, catching your breath.

“I came in a couple of hours ago, I wanted to surprise you.” Dick answered with a smile. “But, you were crying in your sleep. I was so worried I woke you up. Was it Jason again?”

You pulled your eyes away from Dick as you nodded.

“What happened this time?” Dick asked quietly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear so he could see your face from where he laid on the bed.

“Just the usual. I’m a piece of shit for leaving him with Joker, I murdered him, you know all the things dead boyfriends say to their girlfriends.”

“Dead people don’t talk, Love. You know if Jason were alive he wouldn’t blame you for anything. No one blames you for anything.”

“I could’ve…I am just as strong as Wonder Woman and I could’ve gone after Joker that night, if Bruce had just let me.”

“Y/n, you were angry, you were upset, you just witnessed your boyfriend get killed. Bruce pulled you out of there to keep you safe. He knew you would’ve gone after Joker. He knew you would’ve killed him and he didn’t want you to have that on your conscience.”

“I’m not a killer.” You muttered as you looked down at your hands.

“No, you’re not, Love.” Dick agreed softly, threading his fingers through yours.

“How are…things with that Red Hood guy?” You asked, an attempt at trying to change the subject.

“Thats the thing. I need you to come home.”

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #dc comics #dcu #dc universe #dcau #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #bruce wayne #batman #batfam #alfred pennyworth #x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #smut #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x y/n

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fluentmoviequoter · 1 month ago

Text

Rumors

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!reader (no specific characterization, but he wears the eye makeup from The Batman)

Summary: Gotham has shared rumors about you and Bruce for years, and Bruce finally decides to do something about them.

Warnings: none, I think! it's mostly fluff

Word Count: 2.5k+ words

Inspired by Rumor by Lee Brice + Battinson's eye makeup

A/N: I just found this and have no idea how long ago I wrote it. I edited it, but hopefully it's decent!

Masterlist | DC/Bruce Wayne Masterlist | Request Info

It’s late; the sun disappeared hours ago, and the pale moonlight took its place. This is when Gotham looks its prettiest, with no bright light to shine on the dark alleys, dirty streets, and criminals lurking around corners. But this is also when Gotham is at its worst. No one knows that more than you and Bruce Wayne.

Everyone in Gotham, you included, has tried to label the relationship you have with the billionaire, but no one seems to be able to decide on a suitable title; you’re too close to be colleagues, not close enough to be partners, friends seems to be too little, but in a relationship feels like a stretch. No matter what the tabloids call the two of you from week to week, you’re constant. Never apart for more than a day or two, Gotham’s prince and his seemingly dearest friend are seen together far more often than you are seen apart.

Your eyes burn as you force them to stay open, clicking the mouse to read another article in the Journal of the American Medical Association. You’re not a doctor and never wanted to be, but it seems to be the only thing able to hold your attention and keep you awake. Somewhere above you, in Wayne Manor, a grandfather clock rings, signaling the beginning of the witching hour. The police scanners have been quiet for several minutes, and the walkie-talkie beside your cell phone is silent. Your head turns toward the garage entrance as you stop scrolling through the abstract for an article about obstructive sleep apnea. Your attention is captured by the familiar sound of the Batmobile rumbling in the night. The engine idles for a moment before silence reclaims the cave, the headlights dimming and allowing the peaceful darkness to overtake the night again.

“Quiet night?” you ask quietly, your voice carrying to not disturb the rare peacefulness surrounding you.

“Yeah,” the gruff voice of Batman responds.

He lifts his tired arms to remove his cowl, sets it on the desk, and flits his eyes across the computer screen before they land on you. Baby blues scan up and down your frame before finding your face as if you were the one who had been in danger all night; as if you could have been injured sitting in the plush office chair and reading medical journals.

“Alfred left your dinner in the fridge if you’re hungry,” you say, smiling softly as you stand.

You lift your hand and push Bruce’s hair off his forehead, a sigh escaping his lips at the contact. It’s been too long since someone touched him like this, even though you did so just this morning before his business meeting.

“‘M not hungry,” he says, his voice returned to normal. Bruce, not Batman.

“You should get some sleep.”

“So should you.”

“After you.”

He carefully removes his suit, places it on its stand in the Batcave, now donning sweatpants and a t-shirt, looking much softer than he had mere minutes ago. You take his hand and lead him to the elevator, leaning against the rail as it takes you up into Wayne Manor, opening into a dark hallway. Bruce takes the lead, expertly navigating his home and entering his bedroom, his hand never leaving yours.

“Bruce,” you say, tugging his hand as he makes a beeline for his bed. “Your eyes.”

“Right,” he sighs, releasing your hand and moving to the bathroom.

You follow him silently, laying your hand atop his own as you gently pull a washcloth from his fingers. Nodding at him, you gesture toward the closed toilet, which he sits down on, and tilt his head up slightly. After wetting the washcloth and grabbing the gentle skin cleanser from his cabinet, you move to stand before him, unsurprised when his hands find your hips and pull you closer, now standing between his legs. The silence surrounding the two of you is never uncomfortable but a relief from the stresses and pains of daily life in Gotham. As you raise the washcloth, he closes his eyes. You gently wipe the excess makeup from his skin before adding the cleanser and watching the color lift off his skin. With each gentle stroke of the washcloth, he looks more like Bruce Wayne.

“Done,” you whisper, stepping away from him and rinsing the black product from the washcloth.

“Thank you,” he says lowly, standing and wrapping his arms around your waist, his chest pressed to your back as he drops his chin to your shoulder. “For everything.”

You smile at him in the mirror before leading him to bed, not arguing when he asks you to lay with him. The comfort of someone you care about by your side all night is unlike any other.

The first Wayne Charity Gala since the murder of Thomas and Martha is officially underway. Gotham officials and citizens have been eagerly and impatiently counting the days since the announcement several weeks ago. You spearheaded the planning, running constant interference between Bruce Wayne and picky Wayne Enterprises partners. The gala was planned to the minute, not a detail forgotten. Bruce had agreed to make a public entrance on the condition he had a table to himself, a wish that was quickly granted. The ballroom is now filled with people, co-planners talking in the earpiece you wear as you survey everything from the corner.

“We need more champagne in section 7,” you say into your microphone.

“On it,” a response sounds immediately. Several servers carrying full trays exit the kitchen and move to their assigned sections.

You begin making laps around the room, sticking to shadows and corners, politely greeting guests as you met them. The gala begun twenty minutes ago, and the building was already nearing maximum occupancy. The entertainment has yet to begin, waiting for the mayor, Bruce Wayne, and several other prominent Gothamites to arrive. The roar of paparazzi from outside the large double doors signals the arrival of one of these people. All eyes are on the door as they open yet again and everyone watches the mayor enter and greet her fellow citizens. Shortly after, the man of the hour makes his grand entrance. Bruce's dark hair is styled, and a new navy suit adorns his strong figure. He shakes hands with a fake smile plastered on his face as he makes his way to his table near the back door. Relief washes across his face as he reaches it, conversing briefly with a Wayne Enterprises associate before she is called away. You watch him with a smile, still listening to the gala workers in your ear.

“The mayor will be on stage in two minutes,” someone alerts.

“Perfect. After her speech, escort the entertainment to the stage,” you respond.

After a short detour to ensure the backstage area is to Wayne Enterprises’ standards, you are surprised to see Bruce Wayne’s table empty. The mayor approaches the stage, the chatter in the room quieting as people find their seats. You walk around a pillar and nearly run into a waiter. You apologize as you step backward and hit someone’s chest. Strong arms wrap around your waist, keeping you upright and away from the floor.

“I apologize,” you say as you separate yourself from your savior, nodding to the waiter before he returns to the kitchen. “May I get you anything?” you ask as you turn to face the man who had caught you. Oh.

“You could take a break. Join me at my table. I do have a plus one,” Bruce replies with a smile.

“Actually, you don’t. You waived it when you only RSVP’d for yourself,” you retort playfully.

“I don’t think they’ll mind,” he whispers conspiratorially.

“Mr. Wayne, I have work to do.”

“Five minutes. You can’t honestly tell me you don’t want a break from those heels.”

“As right as you are, there is a lot of press in here; you’re dealing with enough headlines right now.”

You peek around the corner and see the lights dimming.

“You need to get back out there,” you say, gently pushing him toward his table.

He catches your wrist gently and asks, “Find me when you get a chance?”

“If you haven’t ditched by the time I get a break, I will find you,” you promise.

He smiles and nods before returning to his table. You continue your rounds during the mayor’s speech and the beginning of the entertainment show. Concerns from the staff lead you to the kitchen, where you decide to open another box of the expensive champagne and begin serving dessert early. Many laps later, the gala is winding down as guests begin leaving, and the entertainment thanks the audience before they exit the stage. Within an hour, only a few guests remain, and the cleaning staff is waiting for them to leave to begin cleanup. You cross the room to gather the guest books from each table.

“You know how to plan a gala. I should let you do it more often,” a familiar voice says from behind you.

You smile as you turn to face Bruce. “No,” you protest softly as he tries to take the books from your arms. “You’re a guest.”

He tilts his head before looking around the room. “As the only one, I think it’s okay.”

You look around too, and notice the last guests are gone. You wave to alert the cleaning crew they’re ready to begin. As they enter the ballroom, Bruce uses the distraction and gently takes the guest books from you.

“C’mon, let’s get out of here,” Bruce says, offering his free arm to you.

“I was going to stay and-“

“You’ve done more than enough, let’s go,” Bruce implores.

You disconnect your earpiece to leave them in the staff dressing room to be picked up in the morning. The guest books are placed aside to be cataloged and used for thank-you cards next week. After, Bruce leads you to his car, opens the passenger door, and helps you in before getting in himself. He drives back to Wayne Manor in comfortable silence, parks in the main garage, and leads you to one of the many guest rooms.

“There should be clothes in the closet, help yourself” Bruce says as he turns on the light.

You open the closet and see everything from pajamas to work clothes to evening gowns, and it is all your size. “What is all this?” you ask, turning to look at Bruce.

“Alfred and I thought that since you spend so much time here and do so much for us, you deserved your own space,” he explains with a shrug.

“You didn’t have to-” you interrupt yourself with a yawn - “do all this.”

“We wanted to. Get changed and meet me in the bathroom.”

You change before entering the bathroom, as requested. Bruce gestures to a soft chair at the vanity, and you sit down, looking up at him as he approaches you.

“My turn to return the favor.” He smiles before removing makeup from your face with soft touches. Pleased with the success of the makeup wipe, he turns and procures a wet washcloth, wetting your skin before he applies face wash and gently rubs it into your skin. After he rinses the face wash off, he picks up a brand-new bottle of your favorite moisturizer and applies it to your face and neck before wiping his hands on a separate towel. “Need anything else?” he asks.

“That was way more than I did for you,” you mumble sleepily.

“You do more for me than you realize,” Bruce states. “Let’s go to bed.”

“I need a plus one to the gala,” Bruce says as he enters your new office.

“Okay, Mr. Wayne,” you answer, pulling up the gala attendance list on your computer. “Who should I put down? Ms. Kyle?”

Bruce pinches his eyebrows together briefly before shaking his head. “No. I wrote it down to ensure you understand.”

He hands you a card, watching with a smile as you read your name.

“Mr. Wayne, I’m planning and working the gala, I can’t-“

“Pick someone else to run this one. You can still plan it, but I want you to come with me. If you agree, of course.”

“I’d love to. What about the press? Aren’t you worried about what they’ll say?”

“Not a bit. So, do I have a date?”

“You do, Mr. Wayne,” you answer with a smile.

“Perfect.” Bruce returns your smile, and you know you made the right choice.

You get ready for the gala at Wayne Manor. After choosing one of the gowns from the closet Bruce prepared for you, you gratefully accept Dory’s help with your hair and makeup.

Bruce knocks on your door, and you take a deep breath before opening it. He stares at you for a moment before clearing his throat.

“You look beautiful,” he says.

“Thank you. You look very handsome,” you respond.

Upon arriving at the gala, Bruce takes your hand as you both walked through the hordes of press and into the venue.

“You outdid yourself,” Bruce whispers, looking at the elaborate decorations and settings.

You smile, squeezing his hand gently as he leads you toward your table, never releasing your hand as he speaks to several people. After excusing himself, he asks you to dance. You stare up at him, dumbfounded that Bruce Wayne just asked you to dance. He pulls you against his side without waiting for an answer and leads you to the dance floor.

“Bruce, you know all the rumors are going to start again, right?” you ask as he places a hand on your hip and takes your hand in his other. Your hand raises to his shoulder while your eyes stay trained on his, unwilling to look around and see all the people staring.

“What if they weren’t rumors this time?” Bruce asks, leading the dance.

“What do you mean?”

“There have been rumors going around for years about me and you. Stirring up Gotham’s richest and criminals alike. Tell me why we are the only ones trying to deny this feeling. I feel it.”

“I do too,” you assure him softly.

“So, we can shut them down, I can shift the attention of the reporters,” Bruce begins. “Or… we could make it true.”

“Do you want to keep them talking or make them stop?” you counter.

Bruce doesn’t answer, finishing the dance. As the music fades, you drop your hands, but Bruce adjusts his grip on your waist and pulls you into a kiss that captures everyone’s attentions. Cameras flash, paparazzi yell, and Wayne Enterprises employees whisper to one another as several pay up for long-standing bets. Gotham knows what to call us know, you think.

You pull back first, and Bruce rests his forehead against yours.

“Maybe that will keep their focus of Batman for a few days,” he murmurs.

“One rumor at a time, Bruce.”

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne oneshot #bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne #dc comics x reader #dc comics fic #fem!reader #hanna writes✯

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starogeorgina · 2 months ago

Text

𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

Paring: Jacaerys Targaryen x reader

Warnings: Swearing, character death, violence, smut

1.03

The cold night air blows through the castle, carrying with it the faintest scent of damp stone and dragon. You rub at your eyes tiredly. Dragonstone was full of people, yet you felt isolated walking silently down a dimly lit corridor towards the queen's quarters while hearing the faint voice of Helaena’s soft whispers in the background.

It wasn’t real.

It was just your imagination.

Distracted by the nonsense going on inside your head, you walk directly into a member of the queen's guard. “Oh, forgive me, Ser Erryk.”

“Princess.”

The look in his eyes is... haunting. A chill shoots down your spine; you get the same uneasy feeling when you were a child and your twin would tell you that ghosts roamed the halls of the keep.

“My apologies; I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

He says nothing until you attempt to walk by him towards the door leading towards the room Rhaenyra would be in. The knight steps in front of you and says, “The princess doesn’t wish to be disturbed.”

“It is a rather important matter,

The knight stares at you blankly. “She was clear on her instructions; nobody is allowed in.”

You’re taken aback by his stern demeanor. “I shall speak with her grace in the morrow then; goodnight, Ser.”

—

You let out a defeated sigh just as your halls leading to your private quarters came into view. You would apologize to Rhaenyra in the morning, hopefully before she held her next council meeting. You’d even apologize to Daemon if the queen wished it; however, you would draw the line at apologizing to that fool, Ser Alfred.

“Princess.”

You blink a few times trying to process the person standing in front of you. You had walked the halls alone and had no memory of anyone else overtaking you. “Ser…”

“Ser Erryk, princess,” he offers you a smile. “Are you returning to your chambers, or do you wish to be escorted to another part of the castle? Prince Jacaerys informed me you wished to speak with her grace tonight, and you don’t yet have a sworn shield.”

The knight was giving you whiplash; the last you spoke, he said you weren’t to speak with Rhaenyra, and now he was saying he would escort you... even though he was just standing guard outside her room. “No…no, this isn’t right,” you whisper to yourself. “I just spoke with you outside of the queen's quarters.”

“I have just returned from escorting Prince Jacaerys and princess Baela from the dragon mount.”

“The princess doesn’t wish to be disturbed.”

“Arryk! It must be your brother I spoke with!”

Ser Erryk immediately starts to run down the hall in the direction you just came from. “Stay in your quarters, princess, and lock the door!”

You should do as he says, but you momentarily freeze on the spot before fear and adrenaline kick in. You vaguely remember which part of the castle the members of the queen's guard slept in when their shifts had ended.

The sounds of your shoes slapping against the ground echoes off the walls as you yell until your voice is raw. Hearing the commotion, a knight steps out of his room dressed in casual clothing, but sword in hand.

“Ser Lorent! Ser Lorent! You must go now; the queen is in danger!”

—

“My Prince,” you link your arm with Jacaerys as he walks back towards Dragonstone. “Can I do anything?”

“You’ve done enough.” He lets out a deep sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. “That came out differently than I meant it. What I mean is you’ve done enough already; if it wasn’t for you, my mother would have been killed.”

Ser Erryk had made it in time to save his queen, but in doing so killed his own brother, his twin. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt fell on his own sword. The queen had ordered for the brothers to be buried together, which Jacaerys thought was disgraceful. Not that you blamed him; he was frightened; it would be long until something like this happened again.

“Arryk may not deserve the queen's kindness, but Ser Erryk did. Her grace has done an honorable thing, but letting two brothers who were born together remain together in death.”

Jacaerys eyes almost completely close when he turns to face you, and the sun shines directly onto his face. “Would you want that, if it was you and Aemond?”

“No, but then he and I were never that close. I wanted to be close to him as a child, but there was always a wall between us.”

“I’m not surprised; he is a... brute. While you are kind and nurturing.”

A brute was generous wording from Jacaerys, and you knew it was for your benefit. “I sometimes feel as if I don’t belong without you by my side.”

“You are my betrothed; Dragonstone will be mine when my mother takes her rightful place on the iron throne. You belong here more than most.”

You walk in silence until you reach the gardens that overlook the sea and the long bridge that leads up to the castle. The view was breathtaking. You smile watching Midnight, Moondancer, and Vermax fly together, the dragons playfully nudging at one another. Your dragon was the largest out of the three but the most gentle, which is why the idea of flying her into battle so much.

“They never put eggs in our cradles; I’m unsure if it was my father or mother’s doing, but I believe this is where a lot of Aemond’s anger comes from. He was jealous when Aegon and Helaena bonded with their dragons, as he desperately wanted one of his own, but then I bonded with Midnight; he acted as if I betrayed him.”

“Do you think after he claimed Vhagar his anger came from what happened with me and Luke?” Jace asks, his voice shaky with emotion.

“No, no,” you tilt his chin gently so he’s facing you, his eyes glistening with fresh tears. “My brother claimed the largest dragon in the world, and things didn’t change in the way he expected.”

“What didn’t change?”

“After the incident in Driftmark, my father never once acknowledged Aemond losing his eye or claiming Vhagar. My mother treated him as if he was an adult; my grandsire saw him as a weapon of war. Aegon continued to pick on him relentlessly, to the point Cole tried to intervene. Me and Helaena tried to comfort him the best we could, but Aemond did not want to be loved; he wanted to be respected.”

Not knowing else to say, Jacaerys brings your knuckle to his lips and presses a gentle kiss. A sweet gesture that doesn’t go unnoticed.

—

A few days had passed, and the castle still had an eeriness to it. You knew they had a sworn shield; however, you didn’t feel it was necessary to have them escort you while you returned from the Dragonpit with Princess Baela and Jacaerys by your side. She bids you goodbye when she reaches her chambers so she could change out of her riding clothing and into something more suitable for the remainder of the day.

It was only a short walk to your room, but before you reach it, Jacaerys wraps his arm around your waist and pushes you up against a dark corner of the cold stone walls. You kiss passionately; his hands stop right below your rib cage, but before things can become more heated, he steps back.

“I cannot wait until I can kiss you whenever I want.”

Since Elinda walked in on him pleasing you with his mouth, he wasn’t allowed in your bedchamber unless there was a lady in the room. Although you were thankful Rhaenyra had never mentioned it directly, just a discreet comment that she wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea of a prince was seen coming and going at all hours.

“I cannot wait either, my prince,” you whisper into his ear. “I tried to touch myself last night; however, my own fingers don’t feel as good as yours.”

He clears his throat and tries to suppress a smirk. “I should walk you back before someone comes.”

You take his arm and walk beside him. “I think it will be rather good when we are married. Just think when the war is won we will be able to finally race to kings landing and back on our dragons.”

Jacaerys laughs, then kisses the side of your head. “Vermax is the fastest— your grace.”

Rhaenyra is waiting outside your bedchamber with at least a dozen of her ladies-in-waiting behind her. She looks exceptionally beautiful; her dark maroon gown reminds you of the fancy dresses ladies used to wear during feasts in the red keep. Except hers had more detailing and the fabric was richer.

“My queen.”

“We’ve been waiting for you for some time.”

You feel your cheeks heat up. “My apologies, I had no idea.”

Rhaenyra strokes your cheek and smiles, “Jacaerys, there is a bath being prepared in your chambers as we speak. I will stay with Y/N and help her get ready.”

“For breakfast?”

“For your wedding.”

—

Your stomach was in knots as the sweet-smelling oils on your skin and hair filled your nostril. Rhaenyra was waiting on the opposite side of a separator as her ladies-in-waiting finished helping you step into your wedding dress. The white sleeves draped down, and the bust of the dress fitted perfectly but didn’t reveal too much. A golden fabric was used to lace the back of the dress together.

When they are finished, Elinda quietly says, “She is dressed, my queen.”

Rhaenyra steps out from behind the screen, and her eyes immediately begin to water. She looks at the ladies and says, “I can take over from here.”

“What would you like us to next, your grace?”

Apparently the great hall was currently being decorated with beautiful flowers, and a grand feast was being prepared in celebration.

“Baela and Rhaena ladies may need assistance to finish getting them ready.”

When it's just the two of you left in the room, Rhaenyra comes up behind you with a gold necklace in her hand. “This belonged to my mother; I want you to have it.”

“Rhae—my queen I cannot. This is such a precious thing, I couldn’t possibly accept it.”

She cups your cheek. “My mother was very dear to me. As you are to Jacaerys.”

“The prince has a kind soul; I’m extremely grateful to have him as my soon-to-be husband.”

Her hands shake as she claps the necklace around your neck. It was beautiful. A silver chain with a light blue diamond that dangles down to your collarbone. “You look beautiful,” she says. “I remember helping Alicent get ready before she married my father. It’s almost scary how fast time has gone by.”

You remember your mother telling you about it. It’s hard to imagine them ever being friends, especially when you grew up hearing how awful Rhaenyra is from your mother and grandsire.

“Can I ask you something, your grace?”

She nods.

“I thought the wedding was to be held after the war was over; how come it has been changed?”

“Jacaerys needs this; he needs to know he’ll always have someone by his side.” She pauses briefly. “You will remain by the prince's side, won’t you?”

To some, the question may have been inappropriate or deemed intimidating coming from a queen, but the look in Rhaenyra’s eyes was pleading. She needed to know Jacaerys would have a companion to always watch his back and be by his side.

“Yes, your grace, I will.”

“I’m glad. We need something to celebrate before... Never mind. Let’s focus on the wedding for now.”

—

Your wedding to Jacaerys was performed in secret, and on the same spot, Rhaenyra was crowned queen. Only the master, Rhaenyra, Joffrey, young Aegon and Viserys, princess Rhaenys, Lord Corlys, Rhaena, and Baela were in attendance. Although unsurprisingly, the queen's guard was close by at all times.

Following the Old Valyrian custom, both you and Jacaerys cut each other's lips with a fine blade of dragonglass, which is what led to you returning to your old chambers to change into another white gown.

When you and Jacaerys kissed, the blood on your lips mixed together and dripped onto the dress.

You returned shortly after with a couple of ladies in tow to help you change quickly so not to keep everyone else waiting, but just as you changed into the second gown, a simple plain white shiny fabric that was immediately being laced up at the back Jacaerys appeared. You dismissed the ladies, and Jace stood behind you so he could finish lacing the last few loops and tying the ribbon into a neat bow.

His touch felt like fire; you craved him. You suddenly felt freezing, and the only warmth you could get was from Jacaerys mouth on yours, his body against yours.

“Oh fuck.”

Jacaerys hips jolt upwards, causing you to gag. The sight of his pretty wife staring up at him through watering eyes while sucking on his cock was enough to make him come undone.

This needed to be quick, anyway. You didn’t have any experience in this before; however, you heard Aegon and his friends talking about getting blowjobs in brothels enough to know the basics of what to do. You needed to touch Jace so badly, but now wasn’t the time to consummate your marriage, so you dropped to your knees much to his surprise.

Your nimble fingers work in tandem with your tongue, driving him mad with lust as you expertly coax out his every moan. Jacaerys fingers dig into the side of the chair he’s sitting on when your tongue swirls around the head of his shaft. Jace completely loses control.

“I’m going to—”

Your mouth is suddenly filled with the taste of his saltiness as his seed goes down the back of your throat. You can’t help but giggle while wiping the saliva off your lips. Jace’s face was a shade of red you’ve never seen before.

“We should go, my prince, before the queen sends a search party or worse comes looking for us herself.”

—

Your cheeks heat up when you take your place at the table. The dragon twins shared a knowing look before smirking; they definitely knew. In truth, it might have just been paranoia, but whatever you were feeling disappeared when Jace discreetly placed his hand above your knee and gave it a gentle squeeze.

While the meal is being served, you notice the sadness in Rhaenyra’s eyes, which was unexpected since she had lost so much in such a short space of time. Her daughter, her son, her father, her throne, and Daemon was not responding to her letters. It could also be the fact she was also murdered in her own bed, but you feared there was something else going on.

Princess Rhaenys’s face remains stone-faced, even when her husband spoke with her. She could take her eyes off of Rhaena.

A little time passes, and the mood seems to have eased slightly. Lord Corlys was to thank for that; he was keeping the mood light by telling jokes and tales that remind you of the ones your father would say before his health became so bad. You wipe the cream off the top of the small cake in front of you and turn to face Jacaerys, who is holding one of his younger brothers, and wipe the cream on the tip of Viserys nose. The young boy burst into hysterical laughter.

While others laugh as well, you look up at Rhaenyra, who is holding back tears. You hear a faint whisper that sounds scarily familiar to Helaena’s voice.

“Children are so small and easy to take. A mother must make great sacrifices to keep them safe. She will miss them dearly.”

It was only then you understood why the wedding was sprung on you that morning and why all the handmaidens had been so busy packing and moving things. At first you thought it was because you and Jacaerys were now moving into a larger martial bedchamber, but now it made sense. Rhaenyra was sending her sons away to keep them safe.

—

You find Jacaerys in the study looking over different scrolls. “It’s late, my prince; you should try and rest for a few hours.”

Approaching the desk, you look at all the different scrolls trying to figure out what he was looking for. An answer to why this happened? A few hours after you figured out what Rhaenyra’s intentions were, she announced it to her children, shortly after Joffrey, Aegon, Viserys, and Rhaena were sent to the Vale to be temporarily housed by house Arryn.

Jacaerys was heartbroken.

“I’m sorry I ruined our wedding night.”

You kiss the top of his head when he rests his head against your chest. “All I care about is how you are feeling.”

“I just feel so useless. Like I can’t do anything to help.”

“But you already have. The queen can only do what she thinks is best, but they will return once it’s safe.”

Jace picks up a small dragon toy that was sitting on the desk that belonged to Joffrey and holds it tightly. “I’ve lost them; I’ve lost all of them.”

Not knowing what to say, you pull him into your embrace and try your best to comfort Jacaerys as he sobs. Mourning not only one brother being gone but four.

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messenger-of-babel · 3 months ago

Text

Shattered

Summary: Bruce isn't sure how to stop breaking things, or how to stop breaking in the process. (Bruce Wayne x reader)

Word Count: 2.0K

Notes: mention of character death.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You wished you could put the pieces back together; you really did.

You wanted nothing more to be able to put the pieces of his heart back together as easily as putting back his mother's vase, which had been the latest victim to his rage. Alfred came to your side, silent but face apologetic as he helped you dust the shards into the pan.

"I really must apologise for Master Bruce's behaviour-" he had started, but you raised a hand to stop him.

"Its fine, Alfred." you smile softly. "I know he's not mad at me, I just got a little spooked is all."

Alfred crinkles his nose at that. "It still doesn't give him the right. I raised him better, to be a gentleman. I know he'd tear himself to pieces if he hurt you too." he sighs. You can only offer a slight smile to the older man, standing with the pan full of shards in your hand. "And to dear Mistress Martha's vase…" he trails off, eyes softening as he looks at the old Wayne heirloom.

"I'll fix it." you say softly, holding the pieces to your chest. Alfred takes it from you, having to pry your fingers off the handle.

"I will," he says softly, wrestling it from your grip. "Just…there's someone else that needs fixing around here, and he surely won't listen to me. Not since I advocated for master Dick when he left."

You squeeze the old man's shoulder comfortingly. "I'll handle it the best I can." You say softly.

“It’d be much appreciated.” The old butler says, relief flickering in his eyes. “He’ll burn himself to nothing at this rate.” He murmurs in concern before taking his leave, and your mournfully gaze at the vase pieces in his hands. If only it could be that easy.

You knew you could only find him in one of the three spots, places that he seemed to frequent the past few months. The first place you could find him if you were looking was his training area down in the cave, covered in sweat and scars, circling a training dummy until he dropped. Before the incident, you would wolf whistle at him with a smile, calling for him to come eat lunch or take you out on a date. Your eyes could freely roam across his body before jumping up to meet the blue of his gaze and the superstar smile he'd send your way, proving his title as the Prince of Gotham. Back when the soul of Bruce Wayne was easier to pry out from under that cowl.

Now he was always circling, round and round like a shark. His feet placed firmly, and muscles tensed before he struck. Struck with more force than you normally saw him hit even outside of training, striking with cold indifference in his eyes, striking until his knuckles bled. He'd be out of breath and a half step away from collapsing, insisting it wasn’t enough despite your soft, kind calling and attempts at ushering him away from the training mats. He'd brush you off, dripping sweat as he got into stance before the poor training dummy again. You could only look onto him sadly, watching him circle it as if it would come to life and jump him any second. You could see past that though. The dummy was just a human torso, grey and plain, but unbeknownst to him you could also see the shadowy ears and cape that hung off the figure, the black mask that leered at him. You didn't need to be a medium to see the way he fought the ghost of himself. The way he was eating himself from the inside.

Even though he may not be wearing his cowl, you didn’t recognise him. The man staring down the dummy with a raging, cold fire in his eyes and lips quirked downwards with pure vitriol, was definitely not your Bruce.

Neither was he when he poured over the film footage from his suit, head in his hands when he thought no one was watching. The few times you did approach him he had tried to be indifferent, meeting you with angry quips and sarcastic comments. You told him he shouldn't watch; it was only traumatising him over and over again. Watching him be too late, reliving the moment of fear in an endless loop wasn’t healthy. He had snapped at you then, telling you that you didn't understand with his jaw clenched so tightly that you thought it was going to snap. "I need to be better." He had told you, tone firm and heavy. "I will be better."

There was very little you could say in response to that, not when you saw the pain burning brightly behind his eyes. The way their faces were scared into his retinas like ghosts, Thomas and Martha Wayne through the lens of young Bruce now joined by the freshly etched visage of poor Jason Todd. The same face riddled with fear in the grainy playback footage, freezing his last moments in place.

Poor, poor, Jason.

You still remembered the night that Bruce came back, with a bundle held in his arms. You hadn't been one to go into the cave normally, but when Alfred came to solemnly collect you and bring you there, you thought your heart had already thudded to your feet. That was nothing to the shock and horror of seeing Jason all torn up, colourful Robin costume barely clinging to the young boy. Alfred had turned your face into his shoulder as you cried, unaware that the echoing scream in the cave was your own. You were inconsolable, unable to even touch the burnt and beaten skin for fear of him falling apart. The fact that both Alfred and Bruce withheld what he had endured prior to the explosion brought bile to your mouth, head reeling with the worst possible ideas, mind imagining the poor teen in scenarios so sick it stung your eyes and made you dizzy. Alfred had told you that it was horrid to repeat, and it’d only bring more pain. Still, you weren’t sure if the truth could be any worse than your nightmares.

Sure, Jason hadn't been your son, but he felt like it. You had chided him like a mother despite not even being married to Bruce, patching up his scrapes and cuts when he came back from patrol with your partner. He’d just laugh it off and give you a boyish smile while he regaled you with his adventure with Batman that night.

"Thanks, Ma." he'd say, flexing whatever part of him you had patched up.

He isn't blood, but he is your son too.

or was.

When you didn't find him in his usual haunts down in the cave, you found him night in your shared bedroom, only the faint moonlight filtering in to the strewn sheets and the sight of him sitting on the bed. "Bruce?" you call softly, but he doesn’t react as you slip into the room. You knew he hadn't meant to thrown things; mind clouded in grief. He hadn't even registered that you were there, evident by the way he was holing himself up in the room away from everyone and the haze that covered his normally bright sclera. He'd become more frequent to these bouts of grief and rage in the latest week, volatile and pushing everyone away to punish himself. You place a hand on his shoulder, and he visibly flinches, making you retract it instantly. For a full tense second, you aren't sure if you should fill the silence, but he beats you to it.

"Leave."

you shake your head. "I'm not leaving, Bruce. I want to help-"

"No, Leave." he stresses, and you can faintly catch onto the hint in his words. Your eyebrows draw together and your mouth goes dry.

"You don't really mean that, you're just-"

"I'm just what?" he snaps back, standing to his full height, coming around in front of you. His glare makes your voice shrivel in your throat as he stares you down. "You shouldn't be around me." he snaps. "When will you learn? That people around me-" he swallows thickly, blinking harshly as his jaw ticks and he turns away. You can fill in the blanks though.

People around me die. People like Jason.

"Bruce," you say gently but firmly. "I'm fine, you're not- and don't even argue." you huff, frustrated as he goes to open his mouth again. "Bruce please, it hurts me to see you like this." you murmur. "You need to talk to me, to Alfred, please-"

"I'll deal with it myself," he hisses out. "I need to stop the Joker. I need to catch him."

I need to make him pay.

"Bruce-"

"No." he says firmly, and there’s a swirl of madness clouded in his eyes when he looks at you. A kaleidoscope of pain that feels like murky waters as you trawl through them for the Bruce Wayne you know. "You don't understand," he says breath ragged. That sends a pang of hurt through you, and you take step back.

"Jason was my son too." you defend painfully. "Don't you dare-"

"He wasn't my son."

that makes you freeze, breath slowing in your chest. "What?"

"He wasn't my son." Bruce grits out again, eyes screwed up almost as tight as his fists by his sides. "He wasn't my son, he was just a Robin, he was just-" he struggles to get the words out, as if they're choking him from the inside. You aren't sure what is worse, the words he's saying or the way you can seem him breaking down in front of you. Like a shattered mirror, unsure whether to reflect back your Bruce or the broken hero.

"You don't mean that-" you say, trying to stop the way your own voice breaks, hating the tears that burn the back of your eyes. "I know you're hurting Bruce. We all are, but don't say that. don't say that he wasn't your son. He thought of you as a father whether you wanted him to or not."

His eyes seem to burn darker every word you say, the way he's on fire from the inside.

"You're hurting," you try to keep your voice steady. "Let me help."

Your hands ached to hold the pieces of his heart like the smashed vase, but this wasn't something you could fix with a little attention to detail and glue. He shook his head at your plea, sighing through his nose. "Leave." he chokes out again.

"I won't." you say firmly.

"Then I will." he snaps back, he turns to grab his coat from the funeral, thrown over the chair by the vanity. "And you better be gone from this manor by the time I'm back."

The burning in your eyes spills over as he brushes past you like he'd never known you, shoulder cold and biting. "I'll call Alfred to help you collect your things. He'll take you back to your old apartment, I bought it so the deed will be transferred back to your name in the next few days." and then he's gone.

You could only watch the retreating form of his back, lip wobbling as you try to keep it steady. He left so quickly you hadn’t even gotten a chance to properly react, to fight with your relationship. He’d cut it in a single blow, actions swift and efficient.

Not like Bruce. Like Batman.

His words to you cut, but you could sense the pain behind those words. You had known him long enough after all, enough to watch his rise and now his downfall as Batman.

I'll leave you before you leave me.

I'll leave before you get hurt.

Before you end up like Jason.

Because I know you will.

As you sit on the bed, shock settling into your bones, you can’t help but wonder who really was caught in the destruction of the bomb back there, and if you had just watched those last pieces of his heart shatter into dust.

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thebenjiblackwoodexpress · 5 months ago

Text

Snow Drop Part 1

Jacaerys Velaryon x reader

Description: Jacaerys Velaryon finds himself taken by a pretty handmaiden who he catches watching him reading every evening in the library at Dragonstone. Jacaerys assumes the maiden takes an interest in the books, but what if it's the prince himself that keeps her returning to the library?

Author's note: first part of my Jace series, which will be loosely based on Snow White.

Warnings: Female reader.

Shards of moonlight entered the arched windows, casting shadows across the flagstone floors of the library of Dragonstone. Lanterns attached to dragon shaped hangings lining the walls cast a warm glow over the cold, grey stone walls, curls of smoke dancing from the flames. A figure melded with the shadows of the darkened hallway outside the library. The castle maid peeped from behind the arched oak door on the threshold of the library. She found herself, not for the first time, observing Prince Jacaerys as he turned the pages of an ancient tome. A frown furrowed his brow and downturned his lip, and Y/N found herself wishing she could smooth his expression. She longed for him to smile at her, but immediately rebuked herself for her presumptuous thought. Since she had fled from King's Landing to Dragonstone, eager to show her loyalty to the true Queen, she had found herself mesmerized by the young Prince. Try as she might, she could not tear her gaze away from him, as he passed her in the hallways, or she would observe him reading in the library every night, from the safety of the shadows. Her awareness of the foolishness of her fascination was not enough to prevent her eyes from following him, or her heart stuttering at the sight of him, at the sound of his voice. While she lived, her mother had gently chastised Y/N for her preoccupation with tales of princes and princesses, of castles and romance. Prince Jacaerys seemed to embody the princely qualities of honour, loyalty and gallantry, which she had always believed to invest royalty with the mandate to rule. The gentleness and respect that he always directed towards the Queen and his cousins, as well as the female servants, was evidence of an elevation of moral character which raised him above all other men she had met. One interaction she had had with him, in particular, had catalysed her senseless admiration for him.

When she had first begun her duties at Dragonstone, she had been skittish and nervous to be in the presence of royalty, having been previously confined to the lower levels of the Red Keep. Her shy and nervous manner had caused her to drop an empty flagon when attempting to remove it from the table of the Council Room. At the loud clatter which resounded through the room, Ser Alfred Broome rose from the table in indignation and began shouting at her in a booming voice, which left her wincing and cowering.

“Stupid girl, you dare interrupt the proceedings of this Council with your clumsiness. Remove this mess!”

Nodding her head sharply in apology, unable to look him in the eyes, she began to pick up the spilled flagon and cups from the floor, ready to flee from the room, when she heard another voice intervene.

“You dare raise your voice to a lady, Ser? I would advise you to remember your manners and your position in this Council, and to address the members of the Queen’s household with respect.” He almost spat out the last word, in his anger, and Y/N’s eyes tentatively rose to meet those of her defender. She watched in horror as Prince Jacaerys turned from Ser Broome and began to walk with slow, measured strides in her direction, as if worried he would frighten her. Lowering himself to her level, occupied as she still was in gathering the evidence of her clumsiness from the floor, he met her eyes with his warm, brown ones. The gentle expression and reassuring nod he met hers with had her heart stuttering, as he began to assist her in picking the remnants from the floor, their fingers brushing as he did so. Once all the cups and flagon were on the tray, he took it from her, to her surprise, and called for one of the manservants.

“This tray is far too heavy for a lady to be carrying, no wonder it fell. Please remove this to the kitchens.”

With one more gentle, reassuring smile in her direction, he returned to the head of the table, as she wandered from the room, in a half-dazed state.

Since then she had found herself unable to prevent herself from watching for him in the hallways, in case he passed her, and she returned to the library every night just to see him. She knew her actions were foolish, but she convinced herself that there was no harm in indulging her fascination with him from a distance. So it was, that she found herself watching as a lock of his curled, ebony hair fell into his eyes, and he turned the page. When he closed the book suddenly, she almost jumped, but she steeled herself, watching as he rose from the oak table he was seated at, leaving his book open upon the table, as he always did. Waiting a few moments after he had left before making her way into the library, Y/N walked quietly up to the table the Prince had been seated at mere moments ago. She cast her gaze down at the page he had been reading from, as she did every night, curious at what subjects held his interest enough to keep him returning to the library. Bending her face lower to examine a rich illustration of Targaryen history, her hair fell in a curtain around her. As she continued to gently turn the pages, becoming lost in the histories, she did not hear the soft tread of footsteps behind her.

When Prince Jacaerys had vacated his seat in the library, he concealed himself behind the door of the other entrance to the library, watching as the pretty maid who had held his interest from the first moment he had seen her cross him in the hallway, emerged from her hiding place at the other end of the library. Despite her quiet disposition and unobtrusive presence behind the door, he had heard her soft sneeze on one such night, and had been aware of her presence ever since. Curious at why she was hiding, but nonetheless unwilling to frighten her by revealing his awareness of her presence, he had determined to simply continue to read. Upon leaving the library the first time he had observed her watching him, he had secreted himself behind the other door to the library, as he had left the room, and watched as she emerged into the room and walked to where he had just been seated. He watched, in fascination, as she looked hesitantly from left to right, before looking down at the book he had been reading, and began to turn the pages. Ascertaining that it was probably the books the maid held an interest in, and that she was perhaps too shy or unsure to ask if she could borrow any, he resolved to leave the books he read out for her to read, should she so wish. Each night, as he would leave the library, he would leave the book he had been reading from open, so that she might read from it herself, since these books seemed to hold so much interest for her. Each night, he would silently watch as she turned the pages of the book, unable to repress his own smile as he saw a look of intent concentration on her face, as she became immersed in the histories of his House.

The first time he had seen the maid, he had passed her in the hallway and found himself looking back despite himself, struck by her pretty features. Rebuking himself for his behaviour, he had continued on his way through the ancient halls of Dragonstone, but had found himself looking out for her in the following days. Each time he would pass her and she would give him a small bow of her head, he would smile back at her. He could not deny to himself that he found the blush that would dust her cheeks as she scurried past him, as quickly as she could, inexplicably sweet. His anger at Ser Broome a few weeks ago at his harsh manner towards the girl was only partly propelled by his belief that all members of his mother’s household, especially those who had chosen to leave King’s Landing to come into her service out of loyalty, should be treated with respect. He was also partly motivated by a sense of protectiveness towards a lady whose gentleness and shyness left her cringing at Ser Broome’s outburst. Jacaerys had frequently struggled to repress his irritation at Broome’s attitude towards his mother, the Queen and the other women of the Council and the household. His rude behaviour towards a maid who had only been doing her best to serve them, and who was clearly frightened by him, was the final straw.

He had attempted to approach the girl with caution, lest she think that he meant to antagonize her in the same manner as Ser Broome, immediately offering her what he hoped was an encouraging smile. As he began to help her to collect the fallen cups, he regretted to see that her hands trembled, making a mental note to rebuke Brooke further, after the Council session. Removing the tray from the girl’s shaking hands, he had immediately sought out a manservant to take charge of it, surprised that such a heavy load should have fallen to her in the first place. He felt an uncomfortable feeling In his chest as he saw the girl half run from the Council, fearing that he might have embarrassed her by pointing this out, having only intended to aid her and defend her from Broome’s harsh rebukes. Nevertheless, she had continued to greet him affably when she passed him, always respectfully curtseying and bowing her head, to which he lowered his head in respectful greeting. She had not seemed to fear him, as she did Ser Broome and the other raucous members of his mother’s Council, although the fact that she would never enter the library when he was in there, waiting for him to leave before she entered, could suggest otherwise. Tonight, he was determined to find out if such was the case, and to offer her the use of the library, should it please her.

Slowly approaching her, in an attempt not to startle her altogether and have her flee from him immediately, he was a pace behind her before he spoke.

“The histories of my house are of ever growing interest to myself as well. Ah, I see you have been reading of Jahaerys and Alysanne, worthy rulers.”

He was surprised when she whipped around in shock at his voice, emitting a small shriek before curtseying frantically with an apologetic “my apologies, my Prince. I hadn’t meant to disturb you or be presumptuous.”

He realised his approach towards her had only served to alarm her, as she turned to flee. Reaching his arm out quickly he arrested her flight by gently wrapping his hand around hers, turning it over in his hand.

“Apologies, my Lady, I had not meant to startle you. You have not disturbed me and there is no presumption. I meant only to enquire as to whether you might want to borrow a few copies that interest you, should it please you.”

Seeing that her look of alarm had turned into one of confusion, he continued.

“All members of the Queen’s household are welcome to make use of the library, particularly when they seem to have taken such a keen interest in our own histories,” he added, with a gentle smile.

Seeing that she was beginning to relax in his presence and was no longer likely to run from him, he slowly lowered her hand back down to her side.

Looking up hesitantly at him, she bowed her head once again. “Thank you my Prince, you are most gracious. I am grateful for your kind offer….you are sure it would not be an imposition? I should not like to borrow a book you were reading.”

“It would be no imposition at all. You are also free to enter the library when I am present, you will not disturb me. Please feel free to borrow any book that should interest you.” Seeing that she looked flustered at the realisation that he had been aware of her presence the entire time and seeking to alleviate her embarrassment, as he saw her cheeks burning, he tilted his head respectfully in her direction before taking his leave. As he made his way through the dark, flagstone halls of Dragonstone, back towards his own chambers, he was unable to repress a smile at the thought that the pretty maid with the shy disposition and the interest in Targaryen histories might return to the library again. Except, this time, she would not do so clandestinely. Perhaps she might converse with him or, at least, he hoped that such might be the case.

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacerys velaryon #jacerys x reader #jacaerys velaryon #hotd season 2 #hot oneshot #hotd

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mileskisser · 1 year ago

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𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐂 | wk: 397

pairings. vamp!batfam x gn!batsib reader

warnings. these are just general ideas/hcs I had for the batfam, not a fic. death, murder, general batfam content no specific series or iteration.

What if…

• Bruce came from a long lineage of vampires, and the people who murdered his mother and father were vampire hunters.

• After his parent's murders he finds out from Alfred that he's a vampire, and that Alfred was also a vampire.

• Time skip to him adopting Dick

• Instead of Dick becoming orphaned and getting adopted by Bruce, he dies alongside his parents. Only to be brought back by Bruce biting his neck and turning him into a vampire.

• Insert conflict between Dick and Bruce about him only saving Dick and not his parents as well + possible survivors guilt; this leads to him going off to do his own thing after his days as Robin ( + him not wanting to be in Bruce’s shadow )

• Incomes Jason's tragic tale

• I think he’d be one of the few non-vampire Batfam members since he got brought back by the pits

• Alfred, Bruce, Dick, Tim, Damian, Cass, and Duke would all be vampires in this au. Steph, Barbara, Jason, and Reader would be some of the few humans they’d have around.

• Damian is half demon half vampire (insert -Damian- alpha/single/emo/half-demon/vampire/prince)

• Tim would come from a line of vampire hunters, getting turned into a vampire one night by accident and being taken in by Bruce (idk much about his lore & parents so let's just say that he ran away or they disowned him but couldn’t bring themselves to kill him)

• I think Damian’s introduction would be the same

• Same with Cass but her parents would be vampires.

• I think Bruce would have a rule in place similar to the “No killing” rule, just that they can't drink human blood

• Reader is introduced to the Batfam by accidentally stumbling across it during a rainy night, stereotypically breaking into a “what seems to be abandoned mansion but is actually the home to a bunch of immortal vampires.”

• They couldn’t turn away a weak–half dead human, so they take them in and let them stay “temporarily”

• Obviously their stay was not temporary, over the few days that the storm rained over Gotham, Reader grew close to the members of the batfam.

• They all came to a unanimous agreement to keep them there, even if they had to hide their identities (both vampire and vigilante)

• Possible yan au / or something with obsessive themes

aaaaa sorry for this being short and booty, I wanted to get a post out & write some more but my laptop keeps lagging whenever I do anything. Ill def go back n edits some stuff :((

#🕸️🎸#batfam x reader #dc x reader #yandere batfam #yandere batfam x reader #platonic yandere batfam #yandere dc #gn reader #platonic yandere #jason todd x reader #damian wayne x reader #dick grayson x reader #tim drake x reader #bruce wayne x reader #yandere damian wayne #yandere bruce wayne #yandere jason todd #yandere dick grayson #yandere tim drake

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miss-madness67 · 9 months ago

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THE NEXT CHAPTER IS UP!!

#fanfiction #viking #vikings #vikings fanfic #ivar the boneless #ivar x you #ivar ragnarsson x reader #prince alfred x you

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downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le · 8 months ago

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Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) - Chapter 3

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader)Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 2627 Warnings: death, violence, fighting, bloody wounds, angst, infuriatingly oblivious love interest, slowburn Spoilers: Young Justice Seasons 1-3 plot partially, but it ended in 2022 so catch up.

Y/N Prince - miracle daughter of Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor - and Dick Grayson - first adoptive son of the Batman himself - have been best friends since day one. They went to school together, trained together, kept each other's alter ego secret from everyone else, and they founded the Young Justice alongside their friends together.

But as time progressed, Y/N and Dick grew up and Y/N found herself wanting more than friendship with Dick. But he never seemed to indicate that he reciprocated her feelings. And when Wally died and Dick abandoned the team, Y/N realised he never would. So she heads to the one place she knows will help her become a stronger warrior so that one day she can take her mother's place: Themyscira.

Two years after his leave, Dick reaches out to his old friends to help him with a mission. But when he finds out Y/N left too, he chases after her in the hopes to bring her back.

However, when the two finally reunite, it isn't as warm as he hopes. Not to mention Themyscira becomes under siege as they go to war against Echidna, the Mother of Monsters in Greek Mythology, and her army of monstrous children.

Will Dick and Y/N be able to put their past behind them and save the Amazons' homeland? Or will they fall, unable to tell one another their true feelings?

~~~

'You are five miles from the estimated target, Master Dick,' Alfred said over the intercom of the Bat Wing.

Immediately upon entering Wayne Manor, Dick had rushed to his childhood room - the one he still used on the occasion he worked with Bruce as the Dynamic Duo, or he needed some space from his duties as Bludhaven's hero - and packed a small duffle of clothes and weapons and ran straight for the Bat Cave. As promised, Alfred had the Bat Wing waiting, ready for take off, and Dick barely greeted the old man before leaving Gotham far behind.

Dick had been flying for almost twelve hours and hadn't slept a wink. Sitting at the control panel with only a wide window of open sea to look at, Dick rubbed his tired eyes as the shadows of sleep flickered in the corners of his vision. He had to stay awake, just a little bit longer at least.

And then... Well, he'd cross that bridge when he got to it.

'Is there anything else you need from me, Master Dick?' Alfred asked.

Dick shook his head initially, then remembered Alfred couldn't see him. 'No, thank you, Alfred,' Dick replied, sitting up straighter in his seat. 'I should be fine from here on out.'

It was quiet for a moment, and Dick thought Alfred had signed off accidentally. But then he spoke. 'Are you sure there is something out here? I know you and your friends' findings seem well-supported, but there is only open ocean. There isn't even an under water volcano or ancient mountain range recorded there.'

'Which makes it an even more suspicious place,' Dick countered. 'Trust me Alfred, there is something out here.'

'Let's just hope Miss Y/N is too, or you'll have wasted Master Bruce's fuel. And I will tell you now, he will not be pleased about that.'

The mention of her name caused Dick's heart rate to increase with anxiety. But he quickly recovered as he scoffed. 'I don't know why he's complaining,' Dick said nonchalantly. 'He's the billionaire of the family, after all.'

'Have you seen the price of fuel these days?'

That caused Dick to chuckle slightly, just imagining the singular raised eyebrow Alfred used to ask the silent question of Are you serious? In that moment, he was once again grateful for Alfred. He barely asked any questions as to why Dick needed the Bat Wing, he just trusted Dick that it was for a good reason. Unlike Bruce, where trust needed to be hard earned, Alfred had always given his trust and love unconditionally.

The Bat Wing suddenly jerked as it seemed to hit something. Or, maybe, something hit it.

'Master Dick, what was that?" Alfred asked, worry lacing his words.

Suddenly alert, Dick brought up the different cameras hidden in the ship to try and find what had cause the sudden shift, but sound nothing.

'I'm not sure, Alfred,' Dick answered, running diagnostics over the ship in case of damage. 'There seems to be no damage to the Bat Wing, and there is nothing on the radar indicating another ship or flying creature of sorts.'

The ship rocked again, and Dick gripped tighter to the control handles as he took the ship off autopilot. 'What in the world!'

'Master Di-,' Alfred said, but his words were glitchy and some parts were coming through slowly. 'A-re yo- all rig-' Alfred was cut off before he could finish.

'Alfred? Alfred,' Dick called, but he got no reply. He slammed the control handles in frustration. 'Damnit.' He was on his own now.

However, his annoyance dissipated at the site he'd only ever seen in books he'd borrowed from Y/N when they were children.

To say Themyscira stood atop a mountain would be an inaccurate description. It was more like Themyscira was the mountain, with a long staircase weaving and winding up the entire mountain from the ivory beach and cerulean waters at the base of it. There were small stone huts with woven roofs closer to the beach, but quickly evolved into larger houses and buildings of impressive white columns and marble. As Dick flew closer to the island, he spotted a large coliseum used for sports and physical trials like the ruins in Greece, and a small amphitheatre next door that no doubt was used for the arts.

Atop Themyscira's mountain could only be the royal palace, held up by intricately carved statues of women and marble columns, decorated in plates of gold and held together by green grape vines that covered the palace walls, the statues, the columns.

The bed time stories he'd heard from Wonder Woman when he and Y/N would have sleepovers was more than his imagination could ever conceptualise, and the few descriptions and drawings of the island in the books he'd read were amateur attempts that held no candle to the real deal.

It was, in a word, paradise.

I must've hit the invisible barrier before, Dick deduced as he took in the sight of it all. That's why communications were knocked. That's why he'd felt so anxious and tired the closer he got. Now that he'd passed through, he felt ten times better.

A beeping pulled Dick out his trance, drawing his attention to the radar. Something was coming at him. Fast.

Dick looked up in time to see a large fire ball flying at him and barely dodged it. It was so hot Dick felt its heat through the window as it scraped by.

'Woah!' Dick cried, angling the Bat Wing so Dick could see where the fireball had come from. And, more importantly, who had thrown it. Down on the ivory beach was a line of catapults set up Dick hadn't spotted before, and he could just make out an army milling about around each catapult as they reloaded the catapults.

Before he knew it, he was swerving as another fireball flew at him, this time catching part of the left wing and melting it. Sirens blared, indicating the damage, but Dick didn't have time to worry about that. The Amazons thought he was a threat. He needed to change that, or he'd be a goner.

Crazy an idea as it was, Dick manoeuvred through the line of fireballs the Amazons catapulted at him towards the beach. Once he was close enough, he turned on the speaker so the outside world could hear him. 'Please, Amazons of Themyscira, I mean you no harm,' Dick announced to them, hoping he sounded genuine. 'I am going to land my aircraft on your shore. I just want to ta-'

He didn't have time as a small boulder connected with the left wing, sending the Bat Wing into a spin that Dick couldn't control. Sirens blared in the cockpit, reds light flashed and his front window lit up with the message SYSTEM FAILURE in bright red letters. The steering was shot, his vision was impaired, so Dick just closed his eyes and braced for impact.

The Bat Wing hit the beach hard, knocking the wind out of Dick for a moment. Once he'd regained his breath and the world had stopped spinning, Dick checked his immediate surroundings. He was in one piece still, and the Bat Wing hadn't exploded. Good start.

Before he could unplug himself, a spearhead stabbed through the glass of the front window, shattering it completely as the Amazon wielding it pulled it out. Dick was temporarily blinded by the sudden invasion of sunlight to his senses, but he still put his hands up in surrender in case they still thought him a threat.

'Please,' he begged through laboured breaths. 'Please, I don't mean you any harm. I just need to talk with someone you might know. Please.'

'Síko órthios, pareísaktes,' a strong voice hissed above him, her words whipping out like a delicate snake. She yanked him from his seat, breaking the seatbelt as she did, and threw him onto white, hot sand.

Vision coming back ever so slowly, Dick saw more figures approaching where he laid on the beach, spears and swords and shields in hand. All women, and all wearing brown leather skirts, sandals, and breast plates and bronze helmets of the ancient greeks. A small crowd formed around him, leaving no room for escape.

Realising this, Dick hauled himself to his feet and spun around to survey the group with his hands raised. The women ranged from youthful to mature, but all of them looked capable of killing him should he dare run. Capable, and willing.

'Poios eísai esý?' a woman with long brunette hair asked. She looked slightly older than him, perhaps mid to late 20s. But knowing how old Wonder Woman had lived for already, Dick was almost sure all of the women surrounding him were much older than they appeared.

I really regret not taking those Greek classes with Y/N now, he thought to himself, not having a clue what the woman had asked him. When he didn't reply though, she repeated her question but with more annoyance and aggression, pointing her spear towards his chest.

'I am Dick Grayson,' he said, not sure if they could understand him or not. 'I mean you no harm. Please, I must talk with someone you know... Do you understand me?'

The blank faces he received in return were answer enough. The brunette turned to two other women beside her, whispering to one another. It only lasted a moment, for then the brunette raised her spear higher towards Dick's throat. The rest of the women also raised their weapons, all pointed at him.

'Ánthropos apó to exoterikó,' she announced for all to hear, her delivery final and true, 'edó tha petháneis!'

Just as she raised her spear, Dick threw his hands up again and cried, 'Y/N!'

He waited for pain, for the sensation of falling and then nothing, but it never came. The brunette paused, spear still raised above her, and looked at him curiously.

'Pós gnorízeis tin prinkípissá mas?' she asked, and to Dick's surprise, he recognised one word. Prinkipissá. Princess.

'Yes,' he said, seizing potentially his only chance at surviving. 'She would be your princess. Sorry, your prinkipissá. Daughter of your champion, Diana.'

At the mention of the mighty Wonder Women, the brunette lowered her weapon entirely and turned to the other women as quiet murmurs broke out amongst the group. Dick wasn't sure what he'd started, but he knew they knew of who he spoke of, and what power her name held. Not just anybody could wield her name.

'I came here to speak with Prinkipissá Y/N,' Dick continued, and then he put his hands together as if he were about to pray. 'Please, can you lead me to her? Is she even here?'

The brunette and her two friends looked him up and down for a moment before consulting one another one last time. After what felt like an eternity, the brunette stepped forward and looked him dead in the eyes.

'Piáste ton!' she cried, and two women grabbed both his arms, ensuring he couldn't escape. 'Tha ton páme stin prinkípissá mas.'

She then turned away, and Dick was lead by the arms after her and the rest of the crowd. He managed look over his shoulder to see the wreckage of the Bat Wing. The left wing was one metal sheet away from tearing off completely, and the shattered glass and the many dents in the side of the ship just added to Dick's dismay. Oh yeah, Bruce is going to be pissed.

If the Amazons let him live and he ever got off the island, Bruce would definitely make sure Dick suffered long and hard.

Dick was lead up hundreds and hundreds of steps, walking through the bustling city of women and young girls all going about their daily lives. For some reason, it was off putting to Dick to see women and children doing the washing or playing games in the open street. He wasn't sure why, but he envisioned the whole island as warrior women who all fought and died for each other and their home.

They could probably still whoop my ass, he thought as he was marched by some children who were previously playing a game with some dice and a ceramic cup before he came along and stole their attention. It came to Dick's mind that these young girls probably had never seen a male before, and so he smiled at them as kindly as he could. Some of the children smiled back, others had their mothers nearby collect them and take them inside. Dick couldn't blame them for it. Wouldn't he do the same for his child if the roles were reversed.

Why the hell am I thinking about children right now? he asked himself, but he didn't have time to ponder the question as they quickly walked up a final set of stairs into an open field of green covered in warrior women training. When the whole group stopped, Dick was brought to such a startling halt that he thought his arms were going to pop out of their sockets. Thank God for that, he thought, feeling his legs ache with all the climbing. Or is it Zeus I should thank? Maybe Hera? Athena?

The brunette raised her spear, and those not holding Dick prisoner did the same. 'Prinkipissá,' she called out above the din of all the sparring and training. 'Échoume kápoion gia esás.'

Dick wasn't sure who the brunette was talking to at first, but then his gaze settled on a group of women just ahead of them. It seemed it was a six-versus-one situation, as six women surrounded one young woman with familiar H/C hair. The six women ran at the young woman in the middle, all taking swings with their fists and swords, aiming for her head and legs and mid section. While the young woman took a few punches, she didn't flinch with pain. She would just grab her attacker's wrist and flip her over and slam her into the ground.

The fight only lasted a minute, and ended with the H/C haired pointing a sword at her final opponent's throat as she pressed her to the ground with her foot.

When she flipped her hair as she turned to face their group, only then did Dick fully realise who it was.

'Y/N!' he cried out, the brightest smile spreading across his face. Two years since he'd last seen her, his best friend. After the not-so-very-warm welcome, he was beyond relieved to see a familiar face.

But instead of reciprocating his smile with the one he'd always admired since they were children, Y/N paled as if she had seen a ghost. Her whole body seemed to freeze up as her eyes connected with Dick's, and for a moment Dick feared he had mistaken some poor girl for his best friend.

But her shock melted away, and Dick was met with angry eyes and a stony face. Oh, yeah. That's Y/N. He couldn't recall the amount of times he'd seen that expression before, but there was no mistaking it.

His fear turned towards himself as she suddenly, with sword still in hand, stormed towards him, ignoring the other women around her still training.

'Y/N, it's me Dick,' he said, just in case she hadn't recognised him, but still she came at him, raising the sword to her side. 'Wait, what are you doing?

As she stood a step from him, she changed her grip on the sword's hilt and swung the butt of it at his head.

'Hey! Don't-'

The last thing he saw were Y/N's angry eyes of E/C before pain exploded from his right temple and darkness overcame him.

~~~

Síko órthios, pareísaktes = On your feet, outsider

Poios eísai esý? = Who are you?

Ánthropos apó to exoterikó, edó tha petháneis! = Man from the outside, you will die here!

Pós gnorízeis tin prinkípissá mas? = How do you know our princess?

Piáste ton! = Grab him!

Tha ton páme stin prinkípissá mas = We shall take him to our princess

Échoume kápoion gia esás = We have someone for you

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

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