#Tim Drake x OC

[rxnn]

Bleeding Heart [six]

warnings! tooth rotting fluff cause i wanna, mentions of stalking, mention of a gun for like 2 sentences at the very beginning (it isn't used and no one is hurt)

one, two, three, four, five

❥❥❥

...one week later

Banging at his door made Jason jump, setting his well-loved book to the side and reaching for the .45 taped to the bottom of the coffee table. It was one of many he had hidden throughout his apartment, a safety hazard, he claimed.

“Jason!” A familiar voice called through the door. “Sorry to bother you but it’s important!”

He was up in an instant, forgetting the gun, and scrambling to get to the door. As soon as his hand was on the handle, he almost ripped the door off its hinges.

“Hey,” he said, breathless, praying she didn’t hear him almost trip over his discarded boots to get to the door as quickly as possible. 

Shit.

He cleared his throat. “Everything okay?”

Everything was most definitely not okay.

Leia’s hair was messily pulled away from her face, her eyes were wide and quickly becoming glassy, her hands wrung themselves out as she looked up at him.

His mind drifted as she rambled on, he caught every other word, but not the full thing. How could he when tears were collecting in her eyes, a silent plea as her lips trembled slightly. He wondered if she would look at him the same way as he –

“So can you come over?”

“What?” His ears were on fire, they had to be.

“Can you watch Cal for a few hours? I didn’t plan on getting called in today, people just didn’t show up. I promise it won’t be long, I’ll get back as soon as I can. I just –”

“I don’t mind.” Jason interrupted her, shoving down any and all thoughts that were less than appropriate for the situation at hand.

Maybe one day – no.

The woman in front of him visibly deflated, shoulders sagging. She leaned against his doorframe, looking up at him again with her pretty smile.

“You’re a lifesaver.”

Jason’s heart skipped and he smiled down at her, heart feeling like it could burst. “Anytime, sweetheart.”

Her mouth opened and closed and she cleared her throat, neither of which Jason missed, a smug sense of pride filling him. “I’ve already got dinner made, feel free to have some. Just…please make sure Cal doesn’t hurt himself.”

Jason hummed, nodding. Easy enough.

Leia pushed off the door frame and walked toward her apartment. He snatched up his keys and locked his door before following her. 

“I really can’t thank you enough for this.”

“It’s not a problem. Callum’s a good kid and you need help.”

“You promise? What about your night shift you were telling me about a few days ago? The one that got you that bruise?”

Jason stiffened for a second. It was a half-truth he’d told her when she saw the large bruise on his cheek bone. With his quick healing (thank you Lazarus Pit), he hoped it would be gone by the time it was time to pick up Callum from the bus stop, but Leia had been off work that day and spotted him leaving in his civilian clothes as she came back from dropping Callum off. She had told Jason to stay put and she ran into her apartment and came back with frozen peas wrapped in a hand towel. She had offered it to him without a second thought and he took it, exhausted and sore from the night prior. Maybe it was because it came from her, maybe he was in more pain than he thought, but he sighed in relief when the pain evaporated. 

“You have to take care of yourself.” She had said, hands on her hips, scolding him. He wondered if she would say the same thing to him if he came home to her every night, if she would take care of him into the early hours of the morning like she had when he’d accidentally stumbled into her room. “How did you get that anyway?”

“I’m a bouncer.” He’d blurted out the first thing that came to mind. To his surprise, Leia just nodded in understanding. 

“Makes sense.” She shrugged then grinned teasingly at him. “Bet the other guy looks worse, huh?”

Jason had laughed, peas still pressed to his cheek. It had hurt to smile, but it was worth it.

“Jay? You coming?”

His heart caught in his throat at the nickname. It wasn’t the first time she’d called him that and he prayed it wouldn’t be the last. 

“Of course, sweetheart.” A cheesy grin plastered on his face, wondering if she’d call him on the nicknames. She didn’t. She shifted on her feet again, holding the door open for him so he could walk in behind her. 

He glanced around, taking in the space. Most of the walls seemed bare with a few boxes stacked in the corner. The walls that were decorated were full of photos of the small family, much like Leia’s room, and two large shelves that housed a few trinkets and books with worn spines. The remnants of Leia’s cooking hang in the air along with the faint scent of her perfume he’d come to adore.

The overall layout was similar to his apartment if not smaller which made him feel incredibly guilty. There were a few stuffed animals and toys scattered across the floor, a coat hanging over one of the chairs at the small table, and a few dishes in the sink, proof of Leia’s hard work.

The soft padding of feet brought him back to reality as he closed the door behind him, 

“Mr. Jason!”

A little body collided with his legs, small arms wrapping around him.

“Callum, honey, lets not overwhelm–”

“It’s okay,” he waved her off and shut the door behind him then crouched in front of the boy who grinned and waved. “Hey, little man. Mama has to go to work, so why don’t you give her a hug before she has to head out?”

Callum spun on his heel and hugged his mother who was smiling fondly at the two. Jason had never seen that smile before. A type of melancholy sweetness he’d never thought existed until now. She picked Callum up, hugging him close and kissed his nose. The boy giggled and wrapped his small arms around her neck. 

It was so domestic, a life Jason thought died in the warehouse. A normalcy that he would never be able to grasp. Now, he watched it stand in front of him and giggle at each other. 

“Go get your stuff and head out. I’ve got this one.” He risked reaching out and gently squeezed her arm, her skin warm and soft under his calloused hands. She let him and nodded, pressing one more kiss on Callum’s head before sitting him down. 

“You be good for Jason, okay?” Leia held out her pinky finger, a faux serious look on her face.

“Pinky promise!” Callum wrapped his much smaller pinky around his mother’s and shook it side to side. 

Leia nodded then gestured toward the kitchen counter where a dish was covered in plastic wrap. “Sorry about the mess, but feel free to have as much as you want.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She chuckled and shook her head before walking toward what he assumed was her bedroom.

Callum took Jason’s hand (the boy’s hands were only able to grab two of his fingers) and tugged him toward the couch where a plethora of legos were scattered across the worn rug. Most times, Jason had no clue how to act around kids, but after the short walks and small meets in the hallway, it became as easy as breathing. 

“What are you working on?” Jason sat on the couch, leaning forward to peer down at the small lego pieces (and make himself not look as intimidating, not that that ever mattered to Callum).

“It’s Star Wars.” Callum responded. “Can you help me do the…” he pointed at the small booklet with the instructions.

Jason chuckled, picking up the small booklet. “Was Mama helping you?”

Callum nodded, picking up two pieces and fiddling with them. “Yeah, but her phone told her she had to go to work…I don’t want her to go.”

“She’ll be back before you wake up tomorrow.” Jason tried to assure the kid.

Leia watched the two from around the corner, heart warming at the sight before her phone went off again, bringing the boy's attention over to her. She texted back, saying she was headed that way and walked over to stand beside Jason, placing a hand on his arm. Electricity shot up his arm from her palm.

“Love you, Mama!” Callum waved.

“I love you too, baby.” She turned to Jason. “Bed time is in an hour. I put his pajamas on his bed, Callum knows his routine. If something happens, you have my number.”

Jason nodded once. If she was paying more attention, Leia would have noticed how he looked at her, the silhouettes of hearts dancing around his dilated pupils. 

“Have fun!” He called over as she left, her responding laugh music to his ears.

“Be good you two!” 

And just like that, she shut the door behind her, her quick footsteps fading down the hall. When he could no longer hear her, Jason turned back to Callum who was fiddling with the corner of the rug, frowning as he looked at the shut door.

“Why don’t we see how much of this we can get done, yeah?” Jason tapped Callum’s head with the instructions. 

The boy’s face changed immediately, grinning widely as Jason pointed out the next few steps, handing him the small pieces he needed. This went on for a while, Jason moving to sit on the floor crisscross so he could reach all the pieces easier. Honestly, it was harder than it looked. With Jason’s bigger hands it was harder to maneuver some of the pieces correctly and more than once Jason thought about throwing the instructions out the window but decided that wasn’t setting a good example for Callum.

The incessant ringing of Jason's phone broke the moment and he frowned, rolling his eyes at the name that appeared and declined it.

They'd be fine without him for one night. Plus, Jason deserved a night off.

The ringing picked up again and Jason groaned, grabbing his phone and standing.

"Sorry, kid, this guy is gonna bother me till I answer. I'll be right back."

Callum nodded; face scrunched up as he focused on finding the pieces for his portion of the step.

Jason walked over to the kitchen, answering the call with gritted teeth.

"What?"

"Where are you? We've been waiting here for an hour!" Tim, Red Robin at the moment, hissed through the speaker.

"Busy tonight. You'll be fine." Jason replied, pinching the bridge of his nose.

The one night everything was going well for him. Out of all the nights these fuckers could've borrowed him it was tonight.

"And you didn't think to tell anyone?" Tim replied, probably rolling his eyes on the other end. Jason faintly heard Damian's chattering in the background getting progressively louder.

"It's none of your business what I'm doing," Jason replied, leaning against the counter, frowning at the floor. He could feel the start of a headache building in his temples.

“I found the gray one!” Callum cheered, holding up a single gray piece they’d been looking for for the past five minutes.

“Good job, kid.” Jason chuckled, watching him connect the pieces.

"Who was that?"

Jason ended the call, tossing his phone onto the counter. He sighed, his eyes catching a painting in the corner of his vision, and he froze.

Slowly, he turned, finding a crude painting of three people. He easily recognized himself, a smile painted on the face of his character. Next to him, Callum, much shorter and then on Callum's other side was Leia, dark hair framing yet another smiling face.

Despite how it was obviously made by the young boy not paying much attention to Jason's stiff, barely breathing form.

When he finally broke out of his stupor his fingers grazed over the painting, scarred fingertips reaching to grasp the normalcy of a child's drawing.

"You draw this, kid?" Jason called over, swallowing the swell of emotions

Callum scrambled over, peering up at the painting on the fridge and grinning. "Yep!" Then, he glanced at Jason's phone and his smile wavered, and sad eyes peered up at Jason. "Are you going too?"

"No." Jason said immediately, shaking his head. "Just my...uh...brother."

How could he? Especially now, after seeing the painting Callum made. The kid painted himself, his mother and Jason. Most would just glance over the paper, finding it cute and moving on, but Jason couldn't. It was something he never knew he wanted. He hadn't thought this would ever be an option in this second chance life of his. To have a child draw you in a place of care was something Jason had yet to experience and now that he had, he didn't know if he could ever let this feeling go.

"You have a brother?" The kid gasped, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "What's that like? I told Mama once that I wanted a sibling, but she said not right now. I heard it's like having a best friend."

Jason bit back any remark about his rather...rocky relationship with his brothers and instead smiled and ruffled Callum's hair.

"It is pretty fun most of the time. Now, let's keep workin', yeah?"

"Yeah!" Callum cheered, going back over to his spot, sitting crisscross on the rug.

Jason chuckled and looked over at the painting one more time, ingraining it in his mind, memorizing the beady eyes and wobbly smiles, the reds, blues, and yellows of their shirts, the sky, and the sun. A beautiful ideal of everything Jason had ever wanted, but never thought he could grasp.

He shook his head and moved to sit down too, careful to not step on the small Lego pieces scattered across the floor.

As they continued, Callum quizzed Jason: what’s your favorite color, who’s your favorite hero (his was Flash which made Jason laugh), what do you do for fun. Jason was as honest as he could be, leaving out a particular violent hobby that originally let him meet the boy’s mother.

“Mama likes reading too,” Callum pointed to the large bookshelves. “She used to read a lot while Auntie Matilda painted.”

“Auntie?” Jason paused putting together the pieces.

“Yeah, she went away after the crash. Mama says she’s in a better place, but we can’t see her anymore.” Callum teared up then, looking toward a picture on the wall depicting another woman with blue and pink hair split down the middle. She was beside Leia who was holding what he assumed was baby Callum wrapped in a green blanket. 

Callum sniffled, rubbing at his eyes.

“Hey,” Jason suddenly felt guilty, scrambling to stop Callum from crying. He’d never seen the kid cry so seeing the tears falling down his small face made him panic. “Your mom was right, y’know?”

Callum looked up, bottom lip trembling. “But I miss her.”

“I know, bud. But you’ll be okay. She wouldn’t want you to be sad, right?”

The boy sniffled again then leaned his head on Jason’s arm and he went stiff, not sure how to proceed. He didn’t mind that the boy’s tears stained his shirt, no, he could care less. 

“Thank you, Mr. Jason.”

“Anytime, kid. Why don’t you go get ready for bed?”

Callum whined and gripped Jason’s shirt. 

“Can I not stay up a little longer? Please?” 

“Nice try, but you know what your mom said and I don’t think she’d be too happy to find you awake when she gets back.” If Leia hadn’t given him strict instructions, he would’ve bent to the kid’s will immediately, but the last thing he wanted to do was test Leia’s trust in him that tonight showed. He wanted to prove that she could rely on him.

Callum groaned dramatically but relented and got up, going to his room. Jason kept his ears peeled for any sign of Callum getting hurt. While listening, he cleaned up the legos, putting their half finished project on the coffee table and putting the small pieces back in their bags then into the box. 

“Mr. Jason!”

Callum’s shout made Jason rush toward the boy’s room.

“Everything alright?” He looked into the room, quickly scanning for intruders then Callum for injuries. Instead, he found Callum sitting in bed, grinning up at him.

“Can you tuck me in? Mama always does it.”

Jason sighed heavily, shoulders sagging just a little. “Sure, little man. And you can just call me Jason.” He winked at Callum who giggled as Jason pulled the baby blue covers over the pajama clad boy. 

“Okay! Good night, Jason.”

“Night, kid. I’ll be here till your mom gets home, yeah?”

Callum nodded, yawning and snuggling further into his blankets that Jason had just tucked him into per the kid’s request. Jason was honestly a little surprised the boy went down so easily, having heard about how kids his age were little monsters but Callum was the furthest from it. Sure, he had his moments, but he was a child so that was expected. He credited it to Leia’s parenting. 

Jason walked out, closing the door softly behind him. The temptation to wander into the room adjacent to Callum’s was beyond strong. It tugged at his conscience, what he knew would be a direct violation of her trust…but it was right there. 

Before he could give in, he walked into the living room, curiously picking up a book that was on the corner of the couch. There was a bookmark made from a receipt from a local coffee shop that Jason took note of. It was halfway finished, not Jason’s usual pick, a fantasy novel judging by the cover, but he was desperate to have something in common with her. To be able to talk about this book whether Leia enjoyed it, her favorite character, chapter, anything.

He sat there for two more hours, keeping his ears peeled for Callum, but it was otherwise peaceful, calm. The silence was different from his lonely apartment. Their place was whole, warm and inviting while his was bare as bones, the home of a ghost. He clung to this feeling, hearing the shuffling of feet outside the door, he tucked the book back where it was, having gotten a little past Leia’s bookmark. 

He stood, hearing the door creak open. And there she was, exhausted, but beautiful as ever. He walked over, footsteps light but enough shuffle so she could hear him approach.

“It’s me,” Leia called in softly, shutting the door behind her. She kicked off her shoes and tossed her bag to the side, smiling sleepily at him with her eyes half closed and hair messy. 

“Hi,” he said, peering down at her. “Callum is asleep.”

“Thank you, really, it means a lot. You’ve done so much for us these past few weeks, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you.”

Her confession made his heart soar, but was overtaken by confusion when she pulled out her wallet, grabbing two twenties.

“Stop.” Jason rushed to put his hand over hers, stopping her from trying to pay him. He had more than enough access to money so taking anything from Leia, especially this, left a gross taste in his mouth.

Leia looked up at him with wide, confused eyes. She tried to push against his hand, but he gripped it just tight enough to keep it in place, pressing the money back in before tossing her wallet back into her purse with shocking accuracy. “Then how am I supposed to pay you back?”

Jason had no clue where the confidence came from, but the words came out so quickly, he couldn’t stop them.

“Maybe you could repay me with a date?”

The silence was heavy and thick, but then a smile broke out onto Leia’s face and Jason could’ve kissed her when she responded.

“I’d love that.”

Unbeknownst to both parties that were too in their moment of giddy smiles and warmth to notice the hints of a storm rising over the city’s horizon. A shadow growing in the distance took the form of Gotham’s protector. It peered through the window, curious as to why the Red Hood was absent, only to find him clinging to a civilian like she was the last good thing in the world. Maybe to him, the bloodied vigilante, she was.

Poor thing, the sun whimpered as it disappeared behind the clouds.

❥

“Where was Hood tonight?”

“He said it was something important but I thought I heard —“ Tim caught himself, brain too fuzzy to think of much else than getting in bed but was awake enough to remember that he wasn’t supposed to know what Callum sounded like. 

“Heard what?” Nightwing – now back to Dick Grayson asked, raising a brow at his younger brother.

For once in his life, Tim cursed his inability to rest seeing as now it left him scrambling for an answer.

“He’s with Leia isn’t he?”

“What?” Tim sputtered, not missing how casually Dick leaned against one of the stone walls, crossing his arms.

“C’mon, Timmy. I’m not blind.”

Tim’s lips pressed into a thin line and he prepared himself for a lecture. Instead, Dick smiled kindly at him and nodded toward the almost too large computer dutifully named the BatComputer. 

“So…you gonna share with the class or am I gonna have to sort through your shit myself?”

“As if you could get through half of it.” Tim snorted, glancing around to make sure Bruce and Damian had gone away for the night, leaving just the two of them in the Cave. 

Dick shrugged, pushing off the wall to stand behind him. “Fair point, but it’d be easier to compare notes, right?”

Tim chuckled, beginning to type in his many passwords to open his treasure trove of notes and know-it-alls. He wouldn’t show Dick everything, no, Tim was going to be a little selfish, but Dick was right: it was better to compare notes and learn more. Afterall, Dick had already met her and was as observant as any other trained Robin. There was only so much Tim could see – feel from behind a screen.

So, still weary, he pulled up the first, much less in depth version on a smaller screen in front of him, allowing Dick to pour over the information. 

“Thorough as always, Timmy,” Dick muttered as he scanned it.

“You’re not…usually you get onto me for this type of stuff.”

Dick hummed. “Well not this time. First, we’re both worried about Jason especially since he likes her enough to skip patrol.” Tim could’ve sworn Dick’s jaw clenched, but it was gone in a millisecond. “Second, she’s a curious thing, nothing wrong with a little background check. And third, well, if anything this is just keeping her and her son safe.”

Little…right…that’s what all the document Dick was looking at had. 'Just a little background check' his ass, but Tim perked up when Dick mentioned they were just keeping them safe. He was glad he wasn’t alone in that thought. 

It’s to keep them safe, they told themselves over and over and over again.

“Right…now spill.”

Uhhh sorry I dropped off for a sec there y'all my bad.

[lazycats-stuff]

The New Heir - Chapter 1

And here we go everyone. Again, feedback is greatly appreciated. Warnings: mentions of bullying, kids can be cruel, minor violence, stalking Word count: 1.5k

Prologue, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10

Elias blinked a few times, looking at the board. His last period was math and as much as he loved the subject, he didn't like the last period of the day, regardless of what subject it is. He forced himself to focus, looking at the fractions.

He wrote down a little note next to a certain example, making sure that he wouldn't forget how it's solved. Elias' eyes went straight to the clock.

3 more minutes. Just 3 more minutes and he would be free. He just has to make it for 3 more minutes. His eyes travelled over the classroom. His best friend stopped writing a minute or 2 ago and was just watching the clock.

Elias' eyes travelled over the people in the classroom. Everyone was just ready to go home and rest. Everyone was tired. Some were following along and some were just mentally not there.

And Elias' eyes fell down on the one and only Damian Wayne. He still remembers how shocked the Gotham public was when it was revealed that Damian was Bruce Wayne's biological son. Him and his mom remember being shocked about it.

And she was more shocked that he went to public school and not private, but Bruce Wayne often said that he wanted his children to have a normal life, despite their celebrity status that they obtained by default.

But Damian Wayne was the first kid of the four sons that was biologically connected to Bruce. Elias didn't know what to think about him at all. He was stand offish at school, but he was polite towards the teachers.

And he seemed closed off, as if he put a very strong wall around himself. Why would a 12 year old had to put up walls around himself? Elias didn't want to judge, but it was strange for a 12 year old to be so closed off.

His eyes travelled back to the clock, seeing that there was a minute left. He subtly put his pencil in his pencil case, along side his eraser. When the bell rang, everyone decided to pack it out of here.

Elias' heard something about don't forget the worksheet for the Monday. He gave it out at the beginning of the subject so Elias already had it in his notebook.

" Come on Elias, " Theo said, trying to hurry up his friend.

" Give me a moment. " Elias said, putting the last of his stuff in the bag.

" You are slow as hell. " Theo remarked, laughing at the the middle finger he got from Elias.

They left the classroom and went to their lockers to get their stuff. Elias didn't put a lot of stuff in it, he just stuffed his jacket in there. He took his jacket out and put it on. It was the end of September and it was getting progressively colder and colder.

There were some cheers and some howling. What the hell? Theo and Elias looked at one another. It was the bully of the school, Mark Johnson. Elias hated him.

He never liked bullies. Mark was an 8th grader and thankfully it was his last year here, but he was taller than the rest of the kids and that gave him a certain edge. Not to mention his 'friends'. More appropriate term would be lackeys. Maybe even sheep.

" Is that Mark? " Elias asked, rubbing his eyes.

" Yup. He is bullying Damian Wayne. He is holding something above his hand and Damian looks like he is going snap. "

Elias sighed as he watched it. Why would Mark bully a Wayne? Out of all people in this school, the biological son of Bruce Wayne? Nope. Not happening. Anybody who has a brain would see that that is a bad idea.

" Hold my bag. " Elias said, shrugging the said bag off of his shoulders.

" Elias, what are you going to do? " Theo asked, tilting his head.

" Just watch. " Elias said, giving his friend a smirk.

" Oh God, Eli don't do it. " Theo said, seeing already what was going to happen.

" Don't worry. " Elias assured Theo.

" I don't want you to be suspended. " Theo called out after him as Elias made his way, through the crowd. Theo sighed. Elias was to brave for his own good.

" Mark, give Damian his- " He stopped, looking up to see a sketchbook, then dropping his eyes lower to meet Mark's eyes " Sketchbook. " He said, making sure to keep his face neutral.

" Or what? " Mark said, smirking at Elias, leaning his head down. Damian was glanced at Elias. Now what?

" Or we will have a repeat of the last time we were in this predicament. " Elias said calmly, watching as the smirk disappeared. The crowd let out an ooh, clearly knowing what Elias was talking about.

Damian, in fact, didn't know what Elias did. He watched Mark's wheels turn inside his head. Elias just raised his eyebrow, silently asking him ' and what is it? '

Mark held the notebook even higher. Elias sighed, shaking his head.

" Don't say that I didn't warn you. " Was the only warning that Damian and Mark got before Elias swung at Mark's jaw. Mark grunted and stumbled back into the wall. Elias grabbed the notebook back and smacked Mark with it across the face. The crowd was laughing at Mark and Elias handed Damian his sketchbook.

" Thank you. Did you really punch him in the face before? " Damian asked, opening the doors to get out.

" I have. And damn, it felt good. " Elias said, taking his bag from Theo.

" It was a pretty sight. " Theo confirmed, moving out in the fresh air.

Damian and Elias followed too. Elias closed his eyes for a moment. He sighed, feeling the harsh wind against his face. Fall came to Gotham.

Damian went straight to the car waiting for him.

" He has a butler Elias. " Theo said, watching the car.

" He is rich. " Elias said back, walking down the stairs of the school.

" I know, but still! Imagine, a butler that does everything you want on a whim. " Theo dreamed as they walked side by side. Elias laughed at that. He didn't need a butler.

" Why are you laughing at me? " Theo whined, walking next to him as they were walking home.

" Because. Just because he has a butler, that doesn't mean that the butler does everything. I would bet you that he still gets stuff on his own. " Elias said, looking around as they stopped at a traffic stop. He didn't have a good feeling.

He saw a tall man, with black hair and green eyes, dressed like any other Gotham resident, but something was off. Way off. He was across the street from them and he was looking at them both. Elias' hunch went off.

" Theo, follow my lead and don't panic, " Elias said, grabbing Theo's arm.

Theo stayed quiet, guessing that Elias got a hunch. Elias had a detector for danger and that was a very useful skill to have in Gotham.

" Can I get an explanation? " Theo asked as they were walking quickly.

" I think a guy is following us. " Elias said quietly, seeing a subway. It was busy so they could lose him there.

" A hunch? " Theo pressed, walking down the old metal stairs.

" Yup. " Elias said, still not letting go off Theo's arm.

" Oh God. "

Elias stayed quiet, moving through the crowd. He looked back for a moment and he saw that the man was looking around. Elias pushed on forward, seeing the exit. Elias had a tight grip on Theo's arm and he moved him to go up the old metal stairs, making the run around the corner.

They have lost him.

" Come on, lets go. " They had around 10 minutes to their building.

" Elias, I can't run that fast. " Theo said, huffing.

" Well, I don't care. You are going to thank me one day. " Elias said, sighing in relief as they saw their building. He took his keys from his pocket and unlocked the front door.

Theo and Elias took deep breaths.

" Oh my God. " Theo said, panting.

" I know. "

" As much as I love this city, I hate it at the same time. " Theo declared, going to the elevator. He pressed the up button and Elias moved to stand next to Theo.

" I feel you. "

They stepped into the elevator once it opened it's doors. Elias pressed 2 and Theo pressed 3. The doors closed and the lift moved upwards.

They stood in silence and Elias said goodbye to Theo. He stepped out and unlocked the apartment door. Whew... This was insane. He took his jacket off and took his shoes off. His mom was going to be home soon and he would be able to tell her.

Who even was that man?

He went to the bathroom to wash his hands, sighing quietly. He went back to his room after drying his hands. A nap would be in order first.

He was tired beyond belief.

[misssharrington]

— ✧ ˚ · girl of steel !!

. . . ࿐ྂ ❝ one | the morning after ❞

wattpad | playlist

The creaking of the train echoed through the emptied carriage of the early morning. Passing lights of tunnels and the sunrise shone through the windows, softly coating my face in faint warmth. I sat in the seat closest to the door, resting my aching head against the glass as I took in my reflection.

My black bra was perfectly visible through my barely-there top. The mini-skirt I wore had ridden up more than you could possibly imagine, lace stockings unclipped and hanging around my shins. I held my black heeled pumps in my hands. Any makeup I had worn the night before was rubbed off, the only remaining remnants being the black eyeliner smeared over my eyes, and glitter along my cheekbones and all in my hair. I couldn't tell if it was the train glass making my reflection all distorted or what was leftover in my system.

I sat with my legs tucked into myself, fading in and out of sleep. I rubbed my eyes with my hands groggily, debating whether I should stay on this train instead of going home.

There were a handful of people in the same carriage as me. A middle aged man seemed to wear a perverted smirk as he ogled me. I stuck my middle finger up at him, and his expression turned sour. I laughed at his reaction. Across from me, a concerned mother was trying to keep her son as away from me as possible.

The carriage doors opened and a ticket inspector came walking through. I cursed under my breath and went to get up, but there were too few people around to distract him from my movement. 

"Ticket?" He asked me. 

"Um, yeah." I replied hesitantly, feeling around my non-existent pockets for a ticket.

The inspector stood impatiently in front of me, tapping his foot on the metal floor. The pervert smirked at my obvious trouble. 

"Miss, if you don't have a ticket, I'm going to have to fine you." He told me. 

"Please don't do that." I asked tiredly, my voice hoarse from last night. 

He sighed. "If you pay for a ticket now, I won't fine you."

I groaned. 

"What's the problem?" He asked. 

"I don't have any money." I told him, cringing my face at his reaction.

"I'm going to have to fine you." He told me sternly. 

"Listen, man-" I began, before I was interrupted. 

"I can pay!" A boy not so far from me intruded on the situation. 

"Young man, this is her problem, not yours." The ticket inspector told him. 

"No, really, it's okay. I can pay for her ticket." The boy insisted. 

The inspector looked between him and I suspiciously. I shrugged at him, just as confused as he was. 

He sighed. "Alright." 

The boy paid for the ticket, and the inspector begrudgingly left. The boy handed the ticket to me with an awkward smile. 

He looked about my age, with dark hair and a dorky lopsided smile. 

"Thanks..." I trailed off, waiting for his name. 

"Tim." He told me sweetly. 

"Tim. Thanks, again." I said. 

"No problem..." He waited for me to do the same. 

"Bianca." I told him. 

"Bianca." He repeated, the name sounding melodic on his lips. 

"That was really nice of you." I said to him truthfully.

"It was really no problem. Don't worry about it." He told me. 

We well into a silence next to each other. The only noise between us was the train bumping on the old tracks. 

"So," I began, "where are you headed?"

"School." Tim told me. 

"Cool." I nodded my head. "Me too."

He tilted his head in slight confusion. "Does your school not have a dress code?"

"Watch." I told him, standing up. I put on the jumper I was carrying with me, which covered my whole chest. I pulled my skirt down so it wasn't so short, clipped my stockings back, and put my shoes on. 

"Ta da!" I said in a sing songy voice, my appearance now more presentable. 

"Cool party trick." He said, grinning. 

"Thanks!" I smiled back. 

The train pulled into my station. I felt a pang of annoyance that my conversation with Tim had to be cut short. 

"This is me." I said. 

"Oh." He hummed lowly. "Well, have fun at school."

"See you round Tim. I owe you. For the ticket, I mean." I told him, smirking. 

"Yeah, you do." He retorted, a glint in his eyes. 

I chucked to myself, stepping off of the train and into the dingy station. As it began to leave, I looked back to the carriage. He was looking back at me. I sucked in my cheeks, watching the train leave, butterflies in my stomach. I shook my head at myself, snapping out of my own silly thoughts.

As I entered the school's office, the lady who worked there didn't lift her head to acknowledge me. She continued to tap her long-nailed fingers on her keyboard in front of her. I cleared my throat, and she looked up. 

"Hi." I waved at her innocently. 

"You're late." She told me blankly. 

"I know, I'm here to sign in." I told her.

"You can only sign in if you have a reason to be late." She said. 

"I had a doctors appointment." I said, lying through my teeth.

"Did you now?" She replied sarcastically. 

"Yeah?" I said, unsure of how well this was going. 

She said nothing, and handed me a plastic ziplock bag. 

"Aw, why?" I moaned at her.

"You're late. Again." She ground through her teeth, tapping her pen on her desk in annoyance.

I huffed as I emptied out my pockets. I put my phone and lipgloss into the bag, and handed it back to the lady. She raised her eyebrow at me, and crossed her arms. 

"Fine." I sighed, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter I had hidden in my bra. I put them in the bag and sealed it up. The lady snatched it out of my hands. 

"Collect it at the end of the day." She told me, before turning her back on me, and continuing to do her work. 

I rolled my eyes at her, and walked to class. 

The hallways were empty and dim. Lifeless is the word I would use. This was Bakerline Prep, a reform school for troubled teens. I had been expelled from school a couple of months ago, and admitted into this institution not long after. It was a prison for sixteen year olds - literally. Everything was clinical. All the rooms were white. All the desks were metal. Any sharp edges were harm proofed. There weren't even locks on bathroom doors. 

I came up to the classroom, and peeked through the glass of the door. I debated running away and hiding in a closet somewhere. Sighing, I opened the door with a creak. 

"Bianca, you're late." The teacher told me. 

"Yeah, yeah, I know." I grumbled, and made my way to my seat through a maze of sullen faces. 

The teacher continued to speak, and I sunk down in my seat, overcome with boredom. I hung my head backwards, looking at the boy behind me. 

"Hi." I whispered to Luke. 

He leaned forward, smirking at me. 

"You should be paying attention." Luke teased. "You've already missed the first half of the lesson."

"You should be paying attention." I said. "Otherwise you'll get held back another year."

He kicked my chair and I giggled. 

"Pass these around the classroom." The teacher began. "Please write your name and age. Read through and tick the boxes of what sounds interesting to you. We will do our hardest to get you placements according to your preferences." He droned on, reading the lesson plan from a sheet of paper through his thickly rimmed glasses. 

The sheet of paper was passed back to me. I wasn't paying enough attention to know what was happening. I looked back to Luke for help. 

"Placement year forms." He told me. I continued to stare at him, not knowing what that was. 

"Work experience." He simplified it. I made an 'o' shape with my mouth, understanding. 

I read the form in front of me, tapping my pen on the metal desk. The chairs and desks were firmly screwed into the ground, so no one can try and throw them. I learned the hard way. 

I began to fill in all the forms. Name: Bianca Romano. Age: 16.

I put my hand up, and the teacher came over. 

"Can I have a pen reader?" I asked him. 

"Yeah, sure." He told me, and handed me one from his desk drawer, with some headphones.

I plugged them in and dragged the reader over each word. It repeated them into the headphones, reading the words out to me, rather than me trying to struggle through my dyslexia. 

Write reports. No.

Work in an office. No. 

Work with animals. I ticked that box.

Take care of children. Hell no.

Act in a TV show or movie. I didn't tick it. I wouldn't like those many cameras on me all at once. 

Write for a newspaper. Newspaper? I stared at that option, hesitantly ticking the box. I didn't even think people read newspapers anymore. Maybe the workload would be minimal. 

I made my way through the rest of the list, leaving the remaining boxes blank. These were all terrible, but I didn't expect any respectively good companies to want troubled children with criminal records working for them. 

I looked around once I was done, realising I was the last one in the empty classroom. I stood up and handed the paper to the teacher, and left. 

"Hey." I heard someone call me. I turned around, to see Luke following me into the school garden. 

"Hey yourself." I said, sitting on one of the tables outside, resting my feet on the seat attached to it. 

He came to stand in front of me, and pulled out a cigarette from his pocket. Luke offered me one, and I accepted. He lit it for me with a grin. I eyed him cautiously. He was tall, and handsome, and he had a sharp smile that cut like a knife. 

"What did you do to your hair?" Luke asked, brushing his fingers through my blue streaked blonde locks. 

"I dyed it." I told him, bored. 

"It looks... distinctive." He struggled to find the words. 

"Thanks." I said dismissively, having no care for his opinion. 

"What did you pick for your placement?" He asked me, switching the conversation.

"Animals and newspaper." I told him. 

"Newspaper?" Luke laughed at me. 

"What?" I asked.

"Why would you pick newspaper?" He asked, confused.

"Like Sex In The City!" I defended myself.

"You know that involves, like, actually doing something." Luke teased me.

"No, really? I thought I would tick the box and suddenly the newspaper fairies would appear and carry me to an office far far away." I replied sarcastically. He rolled his eyes at me. 

"I didn't realise I don't meet your standards for work placements." I told him, feigning innocence. "God forbid I'm even seen with you in public." I said, getting up to leave. 

"C'mon, I was only messing around." He said, moving in front of me so I don't leave. I tilted my head at him, annoyed. He brushed his hands over my shoulders, down to my waist. 

"I'm only playing, don't be mad." Luke said charmingly. His cropped brown hair glinted more auburn in the midday sunlight. 

I gathered the material of his shirt in my hands and pulled him forward, so his face was close to mine. 

"Don't be fucking rude." I told him sweetly.

I put out my cigarette on the sleeve of his jacket, and went to leave for the cafeteria. I felt my stomach begin to rumble in hunger. Luke stayed where he was, but gave me some money for food. 

"Drop me home later?" I asked, fluttering my eyelashes. 

"Always." He told me. 

I smiled, pleased with his answer. I wasn't exactly asking. 

I thanked Luke with a kiss for driving me all the way home. He had asked to come up to my room, but I hadn't let him. It wasn't that I didn't like him - I was just embarrassed of what my life would look like compared to his. Luke was from the Luthor family - his father was the CEO of LexCorp. They shit gold. 

And me? They wouldn't touch my gold with a ten foot pole. 

It was something I didn't want to think about. Luke lived with his father in a penthouse apartment that had more bathrooms than I could count on one hand. And I lived in one small flat with my family of eight, with three bedrooms between us. 

I made my way up the stairs to our apartment, and bumped into Camilla, my younger sister. 

"Where are you going?" I asked her, eyeing her blue and yellow cheer uniform.

"I have a pep rally." She said, brushing her curly brown hair out of her face, barely looking at me. 

The sound of Luke's expensive car leaving the street echoed through the tattered building doors.  We watched the car drive away through the glass. Camilla scoffed at his obnoxiousness.

"Why do you even hang out with him?" She scoffed. "Oh, that's right. He's rich, and single, and male. Of course you'd throw yourself at him." My sister smirked at me viciously. 

I held back my anger at her comment. "Good luck at your pep rally, Cami. And good luck on the top of the pyramid. Hopefully you don't slip, fall and break your neck." I told her sweetly, venom lacing my tone. 

"Whatever." She said, storming off down the stairs. 

I arrived at our door, and knocked, not having my keys. No one answered. I tried the door handle, and it was unlocked. If we ever get robbed, we'd probably deserve it. But I pity the robber that comes into our apartment looking for anything nice at all. 

I walked into the kitchen, sighing when I saw Tina, my older sister. 

"You look like shit." She told me, eyeing my appearance like a vulture. 

"Not all of us can be perfect like you." I told her, looking her up and down. Her hair was straightened, dark silky waves falling down her back. Her makeup was perfectly done, and her workwear was pristine. 

"Where were you last night?" She asked me. 

I got a bowl out of a cupboard and poured myself some cereal. I huffed when there was only scraps left in the bag for me to have. 

"I was at church." I told her sarcastically.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes at my lack of an answer.

"I ran into Cami in the hallway." I mentioned, pouring some milk into the bowl. Tina nodded uninterested. "She still hates me." I continued. 

"You did have sex with her boyfriend." She bit back. 

I slammed the milk down on the counter angrily, splitting the bottom of the plastic bottle. 

"He is not her boyfriend!" I shouted. "He never was!"

"Jesus, Bianca-" Tina began.

"I had sex with someone she wanted to and she's still sore I got there first, and now she's a massive bitch to me every second of my life and everyone defends her!" I continued to shout. 

Tina stared at me, quiet. "Having tantrums about your mistakes won't fix things." She told me lowly. 

I sucked my cheeks in with anger, pursing my lips and sticking my middle finger up at her. She rolled her eyes at my behaviour, ignoring me. I turned to storm out of the room. 

"Your cereal?" Tina reminded me. 

"Why the fuck would I want the scraps left for the least favourite child?" I retorted, hurt lacing my words. 

I got to my room and slammed the door shut, loudly. 

I was so overcome with anger, I grabbed a pillow from my bed and screamed into it. I smashed it with my fists until I became tired, and lay on my bed in defeat. Everything was so shit. The world was tinted in a permanent grey. I didn't know how much longer I could take it.

remember to like and reblog !!

[augenblicklich-lila]

boy meets girl (Tim Drake x OC)

It's been years since I really published any of my writing. It's scary. But this seems to be the year where I do things I usually wouldn't. So fuck it. Just for funsies. Be nice to me, yeah? Love y'all ♡

I am generally a person who prefers reading/writing with OCs. I do have x Reader stuff though.

That being said: Ameena is my baby but feel free to see her name as a placeholder. I didn't specify much about her tbh and it would feel like getting rid of her if I turned her into Y/N myself T-T.

These two give me 2017/2018 music vibes. Don't ask me what that means. Alexa, play I Like Me Better by Lauv or sth.

- Lila ♡♡♡

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.✭・♛ ♛ （ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)つ━━✫・*。 ⊂　　 ノ 　　　・゜+. しーーＪ　　　°。+ *´¨)

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.✭・♛

SYNOPSIS: All Ameena wants is a peaceful night at home after a stressful day. Watch some TV until her brain is fried enough to simply pass out. Too bad a certain vigilante ends up crashing her date with her couch. Quite literally.

WARNINGS: Mentions of wounds/injuries and blood, those being treated, etc. All that shebang that comes with being a crime-fighting vigilante. Nothing graphic though.

WORD COUNT: 1957

It had been a tiring day, so Ameena settled on doing absolutely nothing but lying on her couch and watching TV, dressed in an oversized, comfy sweater and shorts, her hair in a messy bun. As she was halfway through Guardians of the Galaxy 2, the lights and every single electronic in her apartment suddenly turned off, making a not-so-silent squeak escape her.

As her hand frantically searched around for her phone, her mind already screamed at her to get some salt and make a circle, just in case. That worry intensified by a hundred times when a crash from her bedroom echoed loudly through her apartment, followed by some pained groans and then utter silence.

She jumped when the lights came back on and waited for more noises, yet Ameena heard nothing. Her body toyed around with the idea of panicking even more, but she forced the anxiousness down and, after grabbing her trusty bat, made her way into her room.

For a moment, the sight made her dizzy. The costume, the gadgets, and oh my god- "Where the heck is all the blood coming from?!" she whisper-yelled to herself, throwing all the questions and confusion out of the window, probably along with her common sense, and dropped her bat, hurriedly checking on the boy. 

There was a big cut on his forehead, more scratches on his arms and face and a gunshot wound in his shoulder. "Please have an exit wound, pleasepleaseplease-" Ameena breathed a sigh of relief when she found it and quickly dashed to the bathroom to get one of the first aid kits she always kept around, starting to clean the wounds and all the blood once she was back in her room, thanking whatever was out there that she was part of her local Emergency Response Team. 

Otherwise, she would've probably fainted. And there was no way she could take him to the ER, dressed like that and unconscious. There was also the fact that he would most likely have no way of identifying himself, and really, that was all just too troublesome.

As she undressed him and tended to his wounds, her mind didn't stop trying to wrap itself around what the hell just had happened. As much as a part of her wished it was just an extremely good cosplayer that had somehow climbed several floors into her secure apartment after he'd gotten into a very bad fight, she knew this was the real deal after seeing all the traps in the suit that she luckily didn't trigger.

"Did I get high? Is there a gas leak?" she ran a hand through her hair, getting up and throwing all the bloody gauze, bandages and towels into the trashcan, eyeing the mess that was her room. "He must've crashed into my dresser when he landed, shit." she gathered all the clothes that were strewn around, shoving the drawers back into place and picking the glass shards from broken picture frames.

The moment she stopped bustling around, the reality of what had occurred crashed down on her. "Oh my god, Tim Drake is in my apartment. What.the.fuck."

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.✭・♛

Six hours later, at about four in the morning, Ameena was checking his vitals once more, making sure his pulse and respiration were normal and taking his temperature, frowning when it was quite high compared to the slight warmth she'd felt on his forehead just an hour ago. 

"Maybe he was injured for a while before he even arrived here?" she wondered out loud to herself. That would explain the incoming fever, at least, because she had been very thorough with the cleaning of his wounds and dressing them properly. She gently placed her hand on his hot forehead, jumping lightly when the boy groaned and slowly blinked his eyes open.

"I was," he answered in a hoarse voice, not seeming to realize where he was, or more where he wasn't. He squinted up at Ameena, who quickly snatched her hand away to dim the light of her bedside lamp. "Who- where-?"

"Shh." she gently pushed him back down when he tried pushing himself up into a sitting position, trying to keep her movements to a minimum, not wanting to come off as a possible threat. She knew she'd be freaked about waking up in a place you don't know with a complete stranger. Well, Ameena knew who he was, at least, not that it would matter much. "My name is Ameena and you're in my apartment. Crashed in here, quite literally." she lightly joked, gesturing at her messed-up drawer.

His eyes flickered around the room, taking everything in at a rapid speed. Then they snapped to the shredded remains of his suit and his half-naked state, his chest that was covered expertly in bandages and the bandaids plastered all over his face. His fingers instantly rushed up to his face, because for some reason his dizzy brain felt the need to confirm that he was unmasked in front of this girl.

"Don't worry," Ameena held her hands up in front of her. "I would've known who's under the mask anyways without taking it off and your head wound was bleeding a lot." the moment the words left her mouth, she cringed. "Wait, I should have worded that better. I'm not a stalker or a villain if that's what you think." taking a peek at the look on his face, she buried her face in her hands. "That is what you think. Perfect. I just- I mean no harm to you or anyone, really, so please don't do anything- I have no idea how to explain without sounding like a nutjob but I have proof, I swear, and-"

"Stop." Tim placed his hands on the girl's shoulder, slightly concerned with how red her head was getting. "Breathe. Ameena, right?" receiving a nod, he continued. "Just calm down and start explaining. I'm not gonna do anything, I swear. I'm just as confused about this situation, so please go on. Slowly this time, though." he sent her a slight smile when she took a deep breath, sitting back down on the edge of the bed.

"Okay so, to simplify it, you're not in your universe anymore."

Tim nodded slowly, taking this in. "Do you know another version of me?" Definitely not the weirdest thing that happened to him and also not the weirdest question he ever had to ask.

"Well, kind of?" Ameena answered, grinning sheepishly. "I think it's best if I just show you. Promise me not to freak out too much?" If it was anyone else she was talking to, she'd probably try easing them in, but Tim had always seemed like the type of person who'd appreciate the simple, hard facts delivered straightforwardly. And maybe an interesting and unique way of looking at things, so she threw caution to the wind and handed him her phone. "Just google yourself while I get some stuff." 'Some stuff' being her precious Red Robin comics and some others. "Oh and I feel like Tim Drake will be a more effective search than Red Robin. Don't want to end up looking at the restaurant info, right?" 

With that she escaped to the living room, face flushed from that awkward as-hell attempt at a joke. She gathered up the comics from the shelf, taking her sweet time to give Tim a moment to wrap his mind around the fact that he was a fictional character in this world.

She walked back into her room, setting the things down next to herself on the bed. "So, are you losing your mind yet, or...?"

"I'm very tempted to say 'what the actual fuck'"

Ameena snorted at that, smothering her laughter behind her hand. "Go ahead, I'm not stopping you. In fact, I have more what-the-fuck-material, right here." she placed the stack of comics on his lap. "Be careful please, they're precious to me and I will most definitely cry if anything happens to them."

Tim raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?" he carefully picked up the first volume of his own comic, staring at his own face on the cover with what looked like a mix of bewilderment, objection, awe, and a bit of confusion. "From 2009? Please tell me we're at least in the same year."

"It's actually 2018. August 22nd."

The raven-haired boy breathed a sigh of relief. "That was the date back home. That's something at least." without thinking, he dropped back down on the bed, groaning in pain. 

"Dude, you have to be careful with that." a look at his dressing told her that the wound opened again. Giving him a blank stare, she picked up the comics to bring them to safety and far away from the blood. "There goes the great job I did on that wound, Timothy." she swiftly grabbed some sterile pads, gauze and alcohol wipes, removing the bandages and getting to work.

Tim cringed, not only at the pain but also at the choice of name. "Please just say Tim. Timothy sounds-"

"Posh? Second-tier classic? An aristocrat. Or spoiled brat-" she cut him off, giggling when he let out an indignant 'hey!'. "Which is none of the things you are...probably."

"Probably?"

"Well, yeah. I don't actually know you. Just because you're one of my favorite characters in a comic series. God, this is such a messed-up thing to say." A few hours ago, all this was nothing but fiction, like theories about the multiverse and dimension travel and now- "I think I need to sleep soon." she said, rubbing her eyes once she was done cleaning the wound and starting to wrap the bandages around it again.

"You're good at this," he commented quietly, leaning forward so she had better access. "You got experience with stuff like this?"

"Wound care and first aid, yup. People crashing into my place from other worlds, not so much. But Emergency Relief and that kind of work tends to be a lot more chaotic." she yawned, stretching her arms and smiling in satisfaction at her work. Grabbing her pajamas, she left the room, changing in her living room, behind the door. 

"What are you doing?" the vigilante asked, watching Ameena grab her pillows off the bed, along with a blanket. "You don't have to sleep in the living room. Your bed is big enough, or I could take the couch-"

"No way in hell. You're injured and I gotta get some meds for you in the morning before you even think about walking around the apartment." staring at the space Tim had made for her, she huffed, throwing the pillows back down and all but throwing herself onto the bed. "Fuck it, I haven't slept in like 30 hours, I deserve this."

"That's not good for you, you know." Tim pointed out, once the light was off and the room was shrouded in darkness. He didn't need to see anything to hear Ameena lift her head and feel her incredulous stare, cracking up with laughter a second later.

"That's a lot, coming from the guy who has whole Tumblr pages dedicated to his sleep deprivation and coffee addiction." she shot back, snuggling deeper into her blanket. After a few minutes of silence, she finally dared to ask. "What are you gonna do now?"

A troubled sigh escaped the male. "Wait, I guess."

Ameena hesitated, delicately grabbing Tim's hand and giving it a gentle squeeze, not knowing what to say or do otherwise. How do you comfort someone in his situation? "I'll wait with you, if you want," she mumbled, smiling when he squeezed back. 

"Okay." was all he said, sounding half-asleep already.

"By the way, if you do anything while I'm asleep, I'll kill you."

"Fair."

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.✭・♛ ∧＿∧ （｡･ω･｡)つ━☆・*。 ⊂　　 ノ 　　　・゜+. しーＪ　　　°。+ *´¨) “Hie thee home, little wanderer.”

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.✭・♛

[riotlain]

forgot to post my funny dc oc Lydia (They/He)

they arent gonna be shipped with anyone (they aromantic💪💪) he just here to be silly

All you really gots to know about them

They got Autism + Adhd and also the NPD

He friends with Tim and got beef with Damian

[eternallyhauntingthehouseoflove]

Hi, I don't know If you take requests, but could you please right about the reaction and thoughts of the bat boys toward finding out their partner was pregnant? Please and thank you

A/N: I do take requests, love. And I've got you ❣️

Bat-boys find out you're pregnant🍼

Dick Grayson's first thought is worry. He doubts how he'll make it work; crimefighting, his job, then his relationship with you. And he'll wonder how Nightwing will interfere with his life, and how Bruce will react (he'll spoil the child endlessly).

Reassurance from Donna, Alfred, or Bruce will part his fog of worry and distance. He'll hit the ground running to rectify his isolation. I mean breaking the news to friends and family, arranging play dates with Roy and Lian.

"I'll be safer on patrol," he whispered," I promise, hun." You had broke down after so long of trying to remain calm. But seeing your lover return home with bruise after bruise would weigh anyone down. Especially one pregnant.

Dick's hand would always be on your belly, reminding himself that you both are safe and he's doing a great job. It's what he needs to hear, that he's making the city safer for you both.

He is 100% a handyman. Dick will build cribs, changing tables, repair toilets, fix creaky cabinets. And he'll baby proof the house." Don't worry, babe," he assured you." Just relax. It's just a clogged drain."

Jason Todd's first thought is if he'd be a good father, after everything he's been through and done. He even wonders if he deserves to be a father, or if he deserves a nameless grave. However, leaving is never and will never be an option for him. I truly think he'd be the most active out of the bat-boys.

Jason's love language has always been acts of service, and it would thrive during your pregnancy. Your house would be booby-trapped and SECURED. He'd teach you the basics of a gun, and he'd ensure your pregnancy cravings are stocked. Jason would also wash your back when your belly grew too large.

Jason would let you shop for baby and maternity clothes with his card. His only request is that you don't get the baby anything too vibrant because it's an eyesore. If anything, he'd prefer neutral tones or black on the baby.

The weather becomes his interest after the baby's birth." Do you think they need a jacket?" Is his favorite line." Don't you think it's a little hot for them to be wearing long sleeves," he'll wonder. Or the baby is swaddled and he'll question," do you think he's overheating? I'd be hot if that were me all wrapped up like that."

A child is the only thing to make him stand steadfast on his refusal to kill. Not Bruce, not Dick, not even you. Your child brought forth a new mindset, one of not wanting to see a killer reflecting in the innocent and chocolate eyes of his child (Jason's eyes are brown. Argue with a wall).

Tim Drake isn't as present as one would believe. His activity is inconsistent, and it's harder to reach him because he's usually working. But he wants you to sit with him, to bring the baby and let him play around in his office.

It warms his heart to return from a meeting and his baby is sprawled out on his pastel blue teddy bear blanket and cooing. You're dangling a rattle over him, and Tim would strut over and kiss you on the cheek." How's it going, love?" He'd ask and rub the baby's cheek." They being good?" His eyebrow would raise playfully.

The baby would be raised around Bruce and Alfred more than his actual parents. I also see Stephanie caring for the baby and even babysitting if you work or just need rest. Cass would swoon over it, so prepare for tons of peeled oranges and Cass making your bottles.

Alfred would surely read your baby literature. He'd be sitting in the library, baby on his lap while y'all rest, reading from a dusty and old book that's sure to ignite your allergies.

Damian would try his hardest to be a fun dad because he never got that. It's been well documented that he wouldn't dare put a child through his life. So I think the farthest he would go is teaching you enough to defeat the average Shadow/Assassin. But he would not want you killing.

I think he'd lean into Bruce's "No-Kill" mantra after having a child. If you even want to enter vigilantism; he'd understand if you choose not to. It's a thankless job; it's isolating and bruising.

But I think if the kid did continue training, that's when they'd truly bond. Damian and he/she would laugh and joke between rounds; he'd show them the best way to throw a punch, and he'd teach mercy. That's also when they'd meet the other side of their family---the Al Ghuls. But Damian would have strict stipulations on what they learn. No instant kill moves, no brainwashing, none of the narcissistic sentiments Talia filled his head with.

I also think you, Damian, and your kid would lead fairly healthy lives. Not overboard, but the occasional protein shake or morning run; maybe even a little weight lifting. Or if cardio is your speed, he'd install a home-treadmill or a pool.

Bruce Wayne's first thought would be his age. How he's climbing in age and his job usually doesn't lead to gold and sunsets. He'd be happy because he sees it as a second chance. His first two sons saw the angry and vengeful side of him, so that's how they grew up; Tim sought him, and Damian came stained with blood.

But with you and the baby, he could actually be a father. He could raise the baby from infancy and make bottles and hush cries, like he wanted to with Dick and Jason. He could show the baby his favorite movies and just talk to them, even though the baby would respond with drool and coos.

He wouldn't have to be alone anymore. Bruce would set his child on a straight path; the world has enough Bats and birds. They could just...be. They'd would carry on the Wayne name.

Bruce would spoil you and his baby rotten. He'd watch over the baby like a hawk; each cry, each coo, each babble would send Bruce into a fit of worry. He'd leap up from his seat and check the cradle, only to find a giggling baby with his feet in the air. Then he'd chuckle, which would make the baby giggle even more. " You got me, little one. You got me," he'd utter and return to the Bat-computer.

[damianwayne-bloodson]

Damian: Love is weakness and an evolutionary mistake. Tim: You are literally making a Valentine’s Day card for Y/N. Damian, pointing their hot glue gun towards Tim: You’re on thin fucking ice.

[batsis-reader]

Batsis, peeling a banana: May I take your jacket, sir? Hahahaha.

Damian: Do you think other people can’t hear you?

[hana-no-seiiki]

OKAI THE BRAINROT IS NOT GOING AWAY IM INDULGING IT

LEGITIMATELY REWATCHED A FEW SECONDS OF CHAT NOIR AND WAS LIKE GODDAMN I WANT TO SEE THE ROBINS WITH THIS SLUT BEHAVIOR AAAAA

anyways

pairings: yandere! batfam x cat villain! reader.

just a little snippet im too lazy for more huhu

the real reason why some of the boys coveted the robin position so much wasn’t cause it gave them batman’s attention

no no no

it was because it meant that you would be inevitably be their rival and, if they’re charming enough, your friend.

you were harmless in the grand scheme of things, helpful in some cases. very much like your mentor, catwoman. only with a much more heavy appetite for chaos and being slutty around the robins and the robins alone

you didn’t care who it was under the mask, if they did not don it anymore you wouldn’t care less about them.

which brings us to our current situation

damian wayne was your latest victim. so far your favorite prey of all those that previously had his spot.

he was everything you liked about the domino masked hero: sassy, controlling, and ever so quick to take the bait that is your teasing.

but a small, itsy bitsy mistake on your part caused him to get horridly injured.

as such you took it upon yourself to take care of him that night.

he kept rattling on about “not needing your pity.” or how “a heinous criminal like you shouldn’t be even touching him” as if you two didn’t wrestle in more ways than one on the regular.

of course you ignored his pleas like always and healed him up

“why are you doing this? if not pity then—“ damian cursed as pain shot through his entire body. every time he was getting on your nerves by speaking too much you’d often dig into him harshly with your gauze.

“i wouldn’t want our chase to be over before you catch me.” you breathed out, wincing at all the blood before you.

heroes and vigilantes alike often dehumanized you. would say that you were some heartless, ruthless criminal with no regard nor compassion for anybody but yourself. but you could never get used to the blood and violence it took for you to get what you want — what you needed.

selina said that was your best trait

“after all, don’t you enjoy proving those stupid do gooders wrong?”

she’d say

you smile as you remembered the times you’d tease his predecessors. how you’d shower them with love, how you’d endear yourself to them. your little birdies til they weren’t. it’s amazing how blinded by love they were. they never even began to think that your flighty nature was the one at fault and not theirs for failing to keep their occupation.

perhaps you should thank bruce for his shitty parenting techniques.

damian never really thought much of you. he knew of tim’s little stalking hobby, of jason’s bloody shows of affection, of dick’s reckless attitude whenever you two fought. he just saw those as proof of his triumph, his superiority. if you acknowledged him then he succeeded. if you pitied him then you saw him as a failure.

then he realized he never truly understood them until this moment

but now that he knew just how much he has, that his brothers don’t. something that they would no doubt kill to have again…

he’ll make sure they never get you even over his dead body.

check reblogs for more cause ill be adding there for the uh 12-24 hours

[serendipitous-girl]

𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞

⊱✿⊰ summary: your family wants to protect you but its impossible with the life you all lead

⊱✿⊰ warnings: kidnapping, minor torture, it will be angsty, almost dying, spitting on your face, the joker deserves his own warning tbh

⊱✿⊰ notes: this is for skye because she wanted some angsty batfam stuff and here we are. I am just shitting on the page and hoping words form at this point. I hope you enjoy and feel free to send me requests. Also this is a platonic fic sorry if you were hoping for romance action

⊱✿⊰ tags: @kozumesphone @fizzywashere87 @fashionablysouly @witherwallflower @goldierey

@finleyforevermore @baecakie @gergthecat @mqstermindswift @anyas-shitposting69 (comment on this or send me an ask if you want to be added to my DC taglist)

"Well, well, well. Looks like baby bird got caged." The clown sneered, leaning close to your face. You scrunched your nose and tried to scoot away despite the ropes scratching your wrists raw.

The Joker's finger runs along your cheek, a horrific grin on his face as he stared at you. You tried to keep a brave face, you tried to act like the domino mask over your eyes was really a shield. You tried to act like your dad, Batman.

Maybe it was your fault you got kidnapped. He said you weren't ready to go out and patrol with your family, but you went away. You stole one of Damian's mask and put on the most costume adjacent clothes you owned.

"Where should I start, little one?" Joker asked, breaking your train of thoughts. Placing blame would be set for another time. Not now, its not time yet. "Should I give you a smile that matches mine? Should I turn you into a firey decoration before dear ol' daddy bat gets here?"

You winced, trying to prevent the ice filling your veins and the fear weighing your stomach down. The Joker grabbed a knife from his table that had numerous weapons littered on top. Carefully the cold metal of the blade brushed against your skin, not harsh enough to cut just yet. He wanted to scare you first.

•───────────•°•❀•°•──────────•

"I am going to kill that son of a bitch." Jason growled as soon as he heard the news. Bruce gathered the family in the batcave, and explained the Joker had kidnapped the youngest of the family- you.

"Jason, I understand your frustration but we can't act with haste. I won't let her face the same fate you did. I won't make the same mistake twice." Bruce replied, already dressed as Batman. He was doing his best to stay professional despite his fear being ever present.

"I don't want to wait too long either." Dick added, crossing his arms over his chest. Everybody was tense, wanting their sister to be safe once again.

"I'll find where that stupid clown is keeping [Name]." Tim said, standing up and rushing towards the computer before anybody could even reply. Barbara silently followed, knowing she would be the most help to Tim.

Bruce looked at all of his family and nodded, "We'll find her and get her back."

•───────────•°•❀•°•──────────•

Your throat was hoarse and tears had dried on your face. There was no point to fighting it anymore, you only hoped he would kill you soon.

"Aw but doesn't the bird look good with her wings marked?" The Joker chuckled, slicing yet another line into your arm. The cuts were deep, sure to scar, and they were deliberate. You could only guess what he was spelling on your arms.

With the amount of blood flowing down your arms like a red river, it was to no surprise you were fading in and out of consciousness. That would be nice, at least you wouldn't be awake while he tortured you.

You almost settled into the pain, eyes fluttering close to let yourself rest, when you heard a crash. Glass was broken and there was yelling everywhere.

The Joker grabbed your face with his hand and forced you to look forward, where you saw your family (the only thing disguising their horrified looks were their masks)

"Looks like they showed up in time for you, baby bird." He grinned, spitting on your cheek. You were too tired, too fragile to even bother being disgusted. It was better than the cutting.

"Let her go and I'll think about not crushing your head into the wall." Red Hood barked out, already aiming his gun at The Joker. You tried to pay more attention but you were fading slowly,, ready to force your body to rest.

The Joker dropped your body like it was nothing, your face smashing into the concrete. It hurt, pain forming in your forehead but it was a distraction from the blood oozing out of you.

Despite your best efforts, you finally blacked out. The last thing you saw was your family lunging at the Joker, rage thick in the air.

Light flooded your eyes, fresh air blasting your lungs. You were laying down on something soft and warm, contrasting against the mildly scratchy fabric on your skin. You blinked your eyes a few times, forcing them to focus despite the dull ache pounding in your head.

"You're awake." Damian said, apparently sitting beside you. It took a little while but you realized you were in the personal hospital at the manor. He had a few scratches and bruises but nothing as horrific as the scars on your skin (and in your brain.)

"Wha-what..happened?" You croaked, throat feeling like sandpaper. Like magic, Dick appeared with a glass of water you gratefully took. The liquid in your throat was almost heavenly in the way it made you feel infinitely better.

"The Joker kidnapped you and we rescued you." Your father explained calmly, not bothering to add details. Which was probably good for you, the devil's in details.

"I'm glad your back, sis." Jason said, making you suddenly aware of his presence in the back of the room. Your entire family seemed to be in here, ready to see your betterment. Despite he general aversion to touch, Jason wrapped you into a hug.

Of course, everybody else joined in (forcefully or not) for a big group hug. You laughed, despite the hollow of your heart, watching as Tim was pushed into the hug by Dick.. It was ridiculous having a group hug after a traumatic event...how family sitcom could you get?

But somehow, it felt good to be in the arm's of your family. It felt like home.

lori © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything weird with my writing! i like reblogs and comments but please be kind as this was my writing.

[lazycats-stuff]

The New Heir - Chapter 9

Alright everyone, lets hurt Elias a little bit more. As always, feedback is nice.

Warnings: angst and fluff, mentions of panic attacks... Hurt and comfort maybe...

Word count: 1.8k

Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10

Bruce was sitting in front of the computer in the Batcave, rubbing his forehead, refusing to look at the screen. The test he made to prove that Ra's is Elias' father came back positive.

99,9% match.

Bruce sighed and rubbed his face. How the hell is he going to break this to Elias? A huge chance is that Elias will get a bad panic attack and get worse when it comes to his mental health. Elias could spiral and that would be even worse. But, there is also a chance that if he doesn't tell Elias, he will be pissed at Bruce and the others.

Bruce said and looked down at the printed out results. Thankfully, Ra's wasn't pushy with telling Elias anything. It's been a week since the gala and Bruce was working up the courage to tell his soon to be son that Ra's is his biological father.

A mass murderer and one of the best assassins in the world. An eco terrorist too.

Ra's and Bruce have stayed in contact and Bruce told Ra's he would Elias today. Now he just needs some courage. Sure, it sounds odd that Bruce Wayne, aka Batman needs courage, but this was different. In a way, this could break Elias.

And that won't be a good thing at all. But he had to tell him. He had to tell him.

He told Damian to take him to the living room and just hangout there. The others were there too and it wasn't going to be pretty by any means. If Elias passes out, it won't be good. And yet again, he has a right to know. And besides, Ra's can help with looking for his mom...

But that wouldn't come without something in return. And Bruce has a feeling that it had something to do with Elias. He really didn't want to think about what would Ra's want in return. Ra's did say he wouldn't be forcing Elias to meet with him, but he could if he were to help...

Bruce sighed yet again. He had to man up and just tell Elias and pray he wasn't going to pass out from the severity from the news. Or get a panic attack from it.

Bruce quickly left the Batcave and quickly went to the living room, paper folded in his right hand. He heard some chatter and saw Elias on the couch, bundled up in a blanket with some tea in his hands. Bruce noted forest fruit scent it was a nice way to start this evening. Bruce knew that online classes were a great idea.

Elias is studious young boy and he had no worries about Elias focusing on school. Sure, it isn't easy to focus when your mom is missing, but Elias was making it work. Alfred made sure that Elias takes his breaks, eats and drinks enough water.

Elias was leaning on Damian as he was drinking his tea. He looked a bit tired, but still good none the less. And Bruce was going to wreck this peace with this piece of paper and with the results on the same paper.

He sat down and everyone got quiet and everyone could feel that something is off. The four sons know exactly what is going to happen and Elias has no idea what is going to happen. His life would be turned on its head and he will thrown into a whole lot more chaos than he ever wished for.

" I have some news for you Elias. " Bruce said as he sat across from his boys in the arm chair.

" What is it? " Elias asked, still leaning on Damian's shoulders.

" After the gala, Ra's and Talia stayed after the gala to talk. It was about you. " Bruce said as he glanced down at the paper in his hands.

Elias tensed up and just sighed. " What about me? "

" Elias... Well, he implied that he might be your father. " Bruce said and glanced back up at Elias, who looked back in Bruce in both shock and fear.

" What is that supposed to mean? " Elias asked and everyone looked at Bruce.

" It means that he was with your mother. He seemed to love her very much. She seemed to hold an important place in his heart. And I did a DNA test to see if you are his son and Talia's brother. " Bruce said and handed Elias the paper.

" And you are. Ra's al Ghul is your father and Talia is your sister. " Bruce said as he watched Elias unfolding the paper. His eyes widened and his hands shook, dropping the paper in pure shock. Bruce watched him intently, trying to see if he was having a panic attack. Dick moved away the tea from the coffee table so Elias doesn't tip the cup over.

Jason stood up and moved to get some cold water instead of hot tea and Tim moved closer to Elias, to comfort him if necessary.

" This is a mistake Bruce. " Elias said shakily and Bruce saw tears in his eyes.

" I did it 10 times to be sure. It's not a mistake. " Bruce said as he moved closer to Elias too.

All eyes were on Elias, wondering what is going to happen.

Elias just sat there as he looked at the paper.

His world is burning. His world is in shambles. His mom, was an assassin... His beloved uncle Aseel was one too probably...

He swallowed hard as he felt his tears well up with tears. He tried to keep himself together, but it was difficult. He felt like he was going to jump out of his skin and then die... Elias took a shaky breath and everyone moved so he didn't feel suffocated and could try to breathe properly.

His hands shook as he took the paper back into his hands and he quicky wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. He can't cry now... Sure, his world may be in shambles... May burn right now, but...

How does he even respond to this?

" Wh- " (Y/N) pauses to swallow and breathe. " What now? " Elias asks Bruce as he wipes his eyes again, refusing the tears to fall down.

Bruce watched Elias and was really impressed at how Elias was taking this. He wasn't having a panic attack. Not yet at least.

" I will let Ra's know you know the biological connection. "

" Don't force me to meet him. " Elias said, eyes wide with panic and fear. He doesn't want to even think of Ra's, let alone see him.

" No, no. " Bruce said and moved closer to Elias. He knelt down to be at Elias' level and grabbed his shoulders. " Look at me Eli. " Bruce said quietly and Elias looked at Bruce, eyes watery.

" You won't meet him unless you want to. Ra's only wanted you to know and that's all. " Bruce soothed and Elias wiped his tears.

Then, Bruce brought Elias into a hug, holding him by the back of his neck and positioned Elias to hide his face into his chest, allowing him to break down. Jason finally came back with some water and watched the scene.

" You guys can leave us alone, okay? " Bruce said to his sons and the four left, some more hesitant than the others, but they left.

Now it was Bruce and Elias, who was on the verge of a panic attack.

" Hey, relax. You won't see him if you don't want to. " Bruce said firmly and Elias tried to calm down.

" Are you sure? " Elias whispered, hugging Bruce back tightly.

" Yes. Talia and Ra's won't come near you unless you want them to come. " Bruce explained to Elias. If that meant that he would have to fight the two then so be it.

Elias' safety and security is important and if that meant fighting... Then so be it.

" You mean it? " Elias asked quietly and Bruce nodded.

" Every word of it. And Ra's promised to wait too, so there is no need to worry. "

Elias just nodded and sighed. " This is... All of this is nuts. "

" I agree, but you are strong and you have me and the boys. You aren't alone in this. " Bruce said and watched as Elias moved his head back, now fully looking at Bruce.

Bruce softly wiped the tears off and smiled softly. " You are not alone. Now, please drink some water and try to relax. " Bruce said and watched as Elias sipped on some of the water that he got.

Bruce watched him like a hawk, trying to see if he was going to have a panic attack. The worst may have past, but you never know with panic.

It can pop up in mere seconds.

Elias put the glass down and wiped his eyes again. " I hate feeling so weak. "

" It's normal to feel weak, but you can't stay weak can you? " Bruce said quietly and Elias nodded.

You can feel weak, but you can't stay weak. You have to stay strong in this world, no matter what.

" Would I betray Damian if I decide to meet up with Talia and Ra's? " Elias asked quietly.

While Ra's may be a monster, an assassin and what not, he is his father... The part that he has always wanted to meet... To know where his Arabic side came from...

" Well... Talk to Damian about first. Wanting to meet your father is nothing wrong, it's completely normal to meet your father that you have never meet. Just talk to Damian first okay? " Bruce said and smiled softly. " Talk to him tomorrow, when everything is sort of where it's supposed to be and see what you are going to do. "

" But won't this be a betrayal for you too? " Elias asked and Bruce knew it was one good question.

" You could see it that way, but I'm telling you I won't be mad if you do. It's normal. "

" Oh God, I hate life right now. "

Bruce chuckled and patted Elias' back softly. " I feel you. Now, lets get you to your room and lets get you some sleep. " Bruce said and stood up from his position and then gently led Elias to his room. Elias followed, tired from the all emotional turmoil he went through tonight.

" Come on, lets tuck you in. " Bruce said as he helped Elias to bed.

Elias allowed himself to be tucked in by Bruce. Bruce made sure that Elias was warm in his bed.

" Good night Elias, sleep well. " Bruce said, turning the lights off.

" Night Bruce. " Elias whispered and closed his eyes.

He heard the door closing and the footsteps in the hall. Elias took a deep breath and started relaxing. He needs his sleep in order to deal with this father thing.

And he needs energy to think about Ra's being his father... And the potential meeting... Oh dear God, none of this will end well.

[misssharrington]

— ✧ ˚ · girl of steel !!

wattpad | playlist

summary: Bianca Romano was the middle child of four brothers and sisters. Her father died when she was younger, leaving her mother to raise them all by herself. Every sibling has their 'thing'. One was the smart one, one was the popular one. Bianca was the loser one. The stoner kid, the high school dropout, who was probably going to die before they turn eighteen. But, one day, as if by fate, she ends up accidentally taking a kryptonite infused drug that gives her the same powers as Superman. Now the only logical thing to do is try and find Superman and convince him to let her be the next Supergirl. Right?

remember to like and reblog !!

[smutinlove]

hi! how are you? can I make a request? so ive been imagining in my head how would jason react to reader going to the wayne gala with him? (for being more especific after jason introduce reader to the batfamily reader gets invited by jason's family to go to the wayne gala)

how would the batfamily treat her? how does Jason behave on gala nights?? sorry for so many questions lol

thanks for reading this <3

y'all are FEEDING THE DEMON inside me. slay

-not proof-read. has punctuation mistakes (probably. maybe.. idk)

•after a few embarrassing encounters (for jason HAHA) with his family, you were formally invited to have dinner with them. and dinner turned into an invitation to the wayne gala. pretty big, huh?

•at first, you were hesitant... but jason said he wouldn't go without you and you did not want that. so you went with him.

•i mean, it was one thing being with him. but his arm wrapped around you waist while he introduced you to everyone, calling you his, "girlfriend."

•and whenever he called you his girlfriend, he blushed and smiled.

•i mean, usually jason would be one of those "macho, no feelings/emotions need to be shown" kind of men. but when he's with you, it's a whole new genre.

•he's so gentle with you. your dress got stuck? he'll buy you a new one. hungry during the gala? he'll make you sit down and give you a plate filled with food. (his siblings said that he's so chaotic during gala nights... not true.)

•and omg, speaking of his siblings, they are so protective over both of you. if you hurt him, count your days. if he hurt you, that's a different book in general.

•dick is like an older brother, except he is so sweet and genuine. he knows everything about everyone. tim is like the nerdy but really chaotic younger brother. he's super smart, but also on the brink of causing an alien invasion and murdering everyone in the galaxy. but he's just a goofy little boy <3

•steph is such a girl's girl. she's so friendly and sweet. she's an angel, i swear. cassandra cain doesn't talk much. but she isn't untoward or rude to you. she just doesn't talk a lot. but she has said a few nice words to you.

•damien... that little minx is formal. but once you break down his barriers, he is just another child and child soldier. you and him bonded over your love for animals. he even introduced you to alfred the cat.

•now, papa wayne, the man, the myth, the bat. bruce wayne. he was very friendly. holy shit, this man raised amazing children. he deserves the world. he is very sweet to you, always making sure you're comfortable. he's like a dad to you. (i wish he was my dad)

•alfred, the heart of the bat family. he's formal too sometimes. but he's really nice. he's helpful and witty. he knows everything about every member of the bat/wayne family. if you want to see jason in diapers or when he was in an awkward teenage phase, ask him. he has pics of EVERY batfam member.

•let's just say that jason was raised by amazing people. and those same people adore you with everything.

jason is my pookie bear. he's just a big cuddly teddy bear and i love him for that

[melloollem]

Gossip|| Batboys × batsis!reader

Summary:How every batboy gossips.

Characters: Damian Wayne, Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Duke Thomas.

(Dc masterlist)

Damian Wayne

Actually, I think Damian is a gossip and one of the worst. I think batsis would sit next to him in the living room and say something like "so... did you see when Jason arrived?" And the boy would start a seminar on all of Todd's latest actions, he doesn't see it as gossip, just as badmouthing and he loves doing it.

Tim Drake

Ah, well, that's the boy with the spy streak, isn't it? But I don't think he's much for talking about other people's lives, so let's say Batsis wants to know some private information about her brothers. She arrives in Tim's room and I start to assume things. "Hey, Tim, I think Dick's gone out with the koriand'r again, what do you think?" He knows your game and deflects the subject, but if you persist long enough to the point where he can't stand your voice any longer, he'll give you the answer "Yes, he is and he's also seeing Barbara, please get out of my room".

Dick Grayson

Is he a gossip? Yes, I think so, but imagine a guy who's never known anything for a long time, that's him. "Hey, did you hear that Tim is dating?" He comes up to you whispering "Sure, everyone knows that, the guy's already been here, did you know he found out Tim's secret identity a month into dating?" You say casually "What? What the fuck!" He was always the last to know.

Jason Todd

Here's a man who doesn't know gossip and doesn't care about it. He was walking towards the door of the mansion when you stopped beside him. "Hey, Jason, how are you? You said amiably, "Fine, how are you? Still having a hard time dealing with the old man?" He asked as you entered the house, "Jason," you said with a confused expression, "I haven't lived here for months."

Duke Thomas

He needs gossip, he's kind of lost in every family discussion because this boy doesn't know anything. Everyone is having coffee in the kitchen before a patrol and Dick and Jason are having a barbed conversation, Dick says something like "Yeah, I know what your type is", suddenly everyone is paying close attention to the discussion, then Duke looks around lost and looks at Batsis and she whispers "Jason dated Koriand'r, Dick's ex-girlfriend" and then the boy is wide-eyed, watching the discussion as intently as everyone else.

[roxineedstosleep]

Can you do platonic batfam with a male reader who is like Hunter from the owl house

Imagine having a manipulator uncle and is a clone of someone

Clones have no personality.

Not at least in the interim of their realization.

At the beginning they know what they want and that, then, when they interact with a more real world they realize that they are nothing and at the same time they are someone.

The emptiness that comes with realization, anger, loss, parendiza and acceptance are things that take time. They take time, tears, reproaches, rejections, acceptances, cries, screams, health and so many other things.

Conner surely understands what the reader is going through, he knows what it means to be someone's clone and not knowing what else to do for oneself.

Conner didn't know he could be himself until he stopped trying with Clark.

The reader… well.

Being Dick Grayson's clone wasn't something you'd like to have known.

Worse yet… meeting Dick and then the whole family was even worse.

You no longer knew if your affections, hobbies, likes and dislikes were a macabre work of genetics or because that's what you'd really be if you weren't a clone.

You were- are? soooo much like Richard.

But at the same time you were so different. His dark light skin was like a beautiful bronze compared to your uneven brown skin. It looked like your hair waves were hideous compared to his perfectly wavy hair. His eyes were the perfect shade of blue, well-place mole on the chick, his voice was more enchanting than yours.

Every time you saw him more and more, you felt as you looked in the mirror something about your appearance warp into an eternally striking malformation.

Your nails or your fingers didn't seem to be straight, your teeth were getting bigger and twisted(?), your hair was not manageable, your skin started to get more pimples or pores… nothing seemed to have an end.

You were too young to even be considered Dick's twin, at best, like Damian, you could be considered his younger brother… his son? To old for that?

Well, like Conner, someone had to have given the egg for that cloning thing to work.

That wasn't the point.

The point was that you were everything Richard wasn't. You never would be and never would become.

You didn't have the strength or the agility or the courage or the chutzpah.

When Bruce found you, it was as if he had stopped time and locked you in the Batmobile until Zantana and others came to see what they should do with you. You were just looking for the quickest way to buy candy. A simple detour around a corner and all of a sudden you were being pecked and bewitched by a bunch of people in tights who wouldn't stop asking you questions or wanting to get inside your head.

Your only mistake was scape from the orphanage for candy.

When the spells failed, when the manipulations came to nothing and when everything looked like it was going to end with you ten feet underground behind a ditch… they resigned themselves to completing the last box in the "kidnap a civilian" kit: they had to see if you were a fucking clone.

Bruce didn't even think of Dick as a possible cloning victim in the first place.

You didn't look like him… not in the right way. At least from Bruce's perspective; being the genius detective that he was.

Bruce had just squeezed the wheel of possibilities with the DNA of everyone registered in the Watchover system… the genetic co-incidence was just that.

A fucking co-incidence.

And Dick, he had the terrible luck to show up as a match. But even with that proff he did not believe it.

You, you couldn't be a clone, you had to be something else. Didn't you?

Your son? a mistake from the past?

No.

You were just the result of a crazy ex-girlfriend, an idiot Dick and a test tube.

They took you with them. You couldn't walk around without anyone watching you. Besides, a mansion was better than a low-security orphanage. Wasn't it?

But it didn't help any.

To them, to Dick himself, you were just a token that everyone was replaceable.

Bruce wanted to test if you were trainable to be Robin, but you could barely run without dying in the attempt. It didn't matter how many days you stayed in training or fighting.

Nothing worked.

Your belly was visible, your fatigue was or seemed chronic (some cloning error?), your appearance definitely resembled Dick but not in the right way. Or at least that's how you began to perceive it over time. As they, the Waynes, used to constantly emphasise to you.

Sometimes you could stand for hours in front of the mirror wondering if you were really a clone or if the machine had broken down.

And just as your relationship with your image began to deteriorate… the relationship with the members of the house didn't even seem to get off to a good start.

Damian didn't know how to treat you, Jason definitely looked at you with pity, Tim watched you like a lab rat, Alfred and Bruce tried to make up for all their faults with you.

Dick… Dick, like Clark, didn't want anything to do with you or relate to you.

At the beginning he tried. I mean, one of his best friends is a fucking clone, who was fiercely rejected by the person who should be his family. Wouldn't it be hypocritical of him to reject you?

But it was no use. The few times you did hang out together it was clearly awkward for both of you. And even if anyone asked how you were related, Dick was quick to reject any connection.

"He's a friend's cousin, I babysit." "Oh, a co-worker's son." "He's one of the Wayne Foundation kids."

Over time Dick really emphasised that he wanted nothing to do with you, or to know about you or even to consider accepting your existence. He pulled away, with different excuses or reasons to the point where there was no reason why they should relate to each other.

So, seeing that nothing could ever be the same again… you decided to take the next step.

Clearly they didn't want to see you. They didn't want to relate to you.

Dick was, much to your consternation considering that he even never get you a proper ID, your legal guardian, but even he didn't make a big deal out of it.

Damian wouldn't give you the time of day, Alfred and Bruce were always busy, Jason for clear reasons didn't want to be there, and Tim had a purely clinical interest in your existence.

Why be with them? Well, you needed a roof over your head, yes, but other than that there was no reason why you should waste your time and effort wanting to be there.

You were taken off the streets almost as an adult, you could see your way to entertain yourself until you could get out of there. You didn't have the same pressure as they did with public image, you didn't have to go to galas or society balls.

So, you looked for other ways to entertain yourself.

First it was sports, but you sucked. Really sucked.

The arts didn't seem to be your thing, even if you tried.

Dancing was also out of the question and singing, even though you weren't terrible, wouldn't bring you any kind of personal satisfaction.

That's when the clandestine outings came in.

You drank, you tried drugs, you did whatever it took to get out of the Wayne family's sight for more than a day.

There were bad experiences, definitely, but it seemed like life wanted to somehow make it up to you for everything it put you through.

Before long, you found relatively decent people.

People who, in the worst situations, you wouldn't hesitate to ask for help.

There were even times when you would spend up to a month or more away from the family home and never get a call or message about your whereabouts.

Before you knew it, the years passed and you had turned 18… or at least you could say so considering you were a fucking clone.

Months away from the Wayne's, calculating that time away from home, I'd say it was a total of 2 cumulative years that you were away.

And you were happy in those months far from the Wayne mansion. You had two good friends, who were in and out of drugs just like you. They would meet in a small, ramshackle studio and eat and get a job to survive together. When the going got tough, you'd rush back so your buddies could make ends meet.

Sometimes you would even send them some food and old clothes that everyone in the house was reluctant to throw away.

Many of your clothes were, ironically, things that others had left behind. Not because you didn't have clothes of your own, but it was easier to finish wearing worn out clothes than to wear something new that you could wear later.

But that wasn't the point.

You didn't know anything about the Waynes at that time, and they didn't know anything about you.

And that seemed to work just as well for them.

Worked perfectly for you as well.

You didn't have to deal with them, they didn't have to deal with you. Wasn't that the best thing?

If you came back alive, with tattered clothes and calloused hands, they wouldn't say go. It didn't matter if you'd spent most of the winter sleeping without heat or if you moved the bathtub into the living room to avoid flooding the floor during the rainy season.

You were invisible to them. And you were happy about it.

But, like everything else in life, nothing seemed to be enough, everything seemed like a sick joke and no matter what you did, you always ended up in the same mental hole that kept you from moving on.

You don't even know how the fuck you ended up like that.

It was just a party, a private fucking party with your two best friends. Jackovy had brought a new sour candy (real sugar tasty candy) to try, Luz brought her own special drinks. You had gone out of your way to make spicy mac and cheese that had just the right amount of creamy yet tangy cheese. What was the worst that could happen?

A fucking Joker bomb, half a block from Jackovy's ramshackle building, that's what. Just as the three of you were halfway through dinner, ordering takeout for something sweet for dessert…. a stinking bomb shattered the front windows to the street and Jackovy jumped on you to get you out of the place.

Without thinking too much you grabbed Luz by the arm, and both of you held on to Jackovy's large figure to escape from the building that was collapsing second by second. As soon as Jackovy put one foot out into the street, the whole building collapsed and you pushed him and Luz as far away from the collapse as you could, they pulled you in time, but your leg got caught in some of the debris.

You didn't want to see it, you didn't need to see it, but that leg was definitely broken. You didn't know the severity, but from what Luz was shouting in her native language and the insults your other friend was hurling you knew that a bandage wasn't enough.

Clearly, as if it were a bad joke, because the Joker really was a lousy comedian, it wasn't long before Gordon and a member of your family arrived at the scene of the crime.

It seemed so strange to you, so weird.

They really were good at acting their double persona. I mean, you never saw Dick be gentle with you before. Not when you broke your arm after trying to climb the chandelier like he once did. Not when Bruce yelled at you until he was hoarse because he couldn't do gymnastics.

You never saw Bruce act carefully when pulling out the debris. You didn't feel Dick's desperate way of calling a paramedic like fake.

But, it didn't matter.

Really, if you didn't get over that everyone in the family had taken acting classes you could believe a little bit about their acting.

Really, omitting all the obnoxious disinterest you had in them, you could say they were worthy of an Oscar for best acting or at least they were too professional to care whether you were the forgotten clone in the house or not.

As soon as one of the two wanted to get into the ambulance with you, you shouted Luz and Jackovy's name for them to follow you. The paramedics didn't know what to do, but there wasn't much to say about it either.

"Only family members or couples can join-"

"Jackovy is his husband" Luz had shouted, noticing how you were trying to run away from the nurses' restraints " Besides he always use his husband's"

"A child can't be an adult's boyfriend-" Dick had tried to say, frightened looking at Jackovy, who definitely looked to be at least about 27 years old. His prominent beard and his height and musculature really made him look old, how funny that he was only a couple of years older than you or Luz.

His unfriendly face didn't help the current situation either, but that didn't matter. The point was that Jackovy had health insurance in his name, so why did the technicalities of the safe age of consent matter now?

"I'm 23, his MY husband, he's coming with me" You interrupted.

The opinion of two men in dark spandex didn't matter anyway. You're married? Perfect, the husband has more right to be with you in the ambulance.

Your friend stuck around while Luz stayed behind to see if anything could be salvaged from the wrecked apartment.

Neither you nor Jackovy or Luz felt sorry for the place, it didn't belong to either of you, it was just an old building used as a game room. But, some things were of sentimental value.

If they could be salvaged it was worth a try. Also, probably many of the drugs were there. Was a better option to clean it before the police started to seek there.

Getting to the hospital and getting your leg fixed was easy. Making sure the fake marriage paperwork and the fake ID Jackovy had gotten for you passed as real was the tricky part.

You and Luz had done a perfect job in creating all the false documentation in order to generate a fake ID.

Better job of adding a little more age to you.

They knew your ID was functional, as you had even been able to get your friend out of the police lockup on a couple of occasions.

But the fake marriage paperwork they weren't sure about. those were, in a better word, almost new. Not even more than a week.

They would not have been created had it not been for your friend's last minute idea to be covered in this way. Jackovy did it expontanea.

It was fraud that paper, not that your ID was any less fraud than that certificate, but at least you only had one ID.

Jackovy had several marriage certificates with different people's names on them. Some for a greencard, others like you, who needed to be able to use health insurance.

But the paper passed as valid, Jackovy's insurance cover most of the expenses and now you could get some rest before you could leave for Luz's now truly owned apartment.

The bad joints, at the end of the day, had ensured that you didn't lose the money you had saved… but for some reason had lured a falsely concerned family into the hallway outside the room you temporarily had in the hospital.

What the fuck were they doing there?

[eternallyhauntingthehouseoflove]

Hey, i read the “Bat-boys finding out your pregnant” and may i ask for more? It was sooo cute that i need more of it 😭💕

The Batboys fathers HCs

A/N: this request is long overdue that I’m sure the requester doesn’t even remember it, but I’ve arrived at last. I hope this is what they wanted. The Absolute Power run has restored my love for Nightwing and comics. ❣️

Dick Grayson is a fun dad. At first, Dick suffocated beneath the weight of fatherly duties. He wanted to be better than Bruce. Dick loved him, but he could admit that his boyhood wasn’t a salubrious environment for the young mind. No child should have to carry the weight of Bruce’s mission. Thus, Dick’s mission became ensuring yours and the baby’s lives were secure, safe, and joyous.

Pale beams of sunlight kissed your cheeks good morning. The aroma of maple syrup wafted throughout the house, tickling your nostrils as you carried yourself down the stair steps, footfall by footfall. There Dick stood at the stove, scooting the black spatula beneath a golden pancake and flipping it into the air, causing your baby to burst out into a fit of giggles before the pancake hit the skillet with a sizzle. He was proud of himself for making his baby laugh.

“Well, well, look at mama.” A grin crept across his lips as he spotted you creeping closer, supernovas bursting in his electric blue irises.” You were snoring in a pool of drool when I awoke, so I grabbed the baby and started breakfast.” Vibrant seas of pacifiers, rattles, and toy pianos adorned the house.

Dick attempted to rush the developmental process. Not out of callousness, but sheer excitement to have a child. He had already stocked the baby in dolls, trucks, pacifiers, fruit snacks, apple juice (watered down, of course). He even installed a nightlight that short circuited the house at first, but Bruce helped him fix it. Reading is good for the baby right? Dick is on it. He’s already ordered the best and most classic tales; Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, Alice in Wonderland, Dr. Seuss, Little Red Riding Hood.

Dick Grayson has read multiple novels on fatherhood, motherhood, child development, postpartum depression. He hates surprises, and babies are the breeding ground of surprises. He will pack the go-bag full of onesies, pacifiers, diapers, wipes, toys because he doesn’t want you to be in public and not have the materials.

“Give me a few days to install the new changing table. You’ll love it.” Crimson blush adorned his tanned cheeks, a proud grin dawning on his lips, showcasing his pearlescent teeth.” It broke when I weight checked it, thank god. Damian, albeit reluctantly, is coming out here tomorrow to translate the instructions.”

Jason Todd is the protective, paranoid father because he’d placed a bullet in the worst humanity had to offer, witnessed otherworldly horrors done to the little guys, the folks who lack billions of dollars to hole up on secluded islands and cabins. He can’t eradicate all the scum, can’t caulk the fractures villains seem to keep slipping through—and that terrifies him.

Jason never imagined a life worth living to be possible. He’d thought himself a sentient zombie, an unlucky boy yanked from the eternal peace of a cold, soundless grave and forced to enact vengeance on behalf of the common folk who lack the means to undertake the mission themselves. He never considered Red Hood to be a hero; merely a restless phantom with nothing else to bide his time until the sweet release of the afterlife deigned to shatter his manacles to the mortal world. That was until he’d fallen over the sun, offering endless devotion to his goddess, and you’d rewarded his offering with a daughter, a lovely girl. He’d abduct the moon and wrap it in a silken bow if only you’d give him permission.

“Catch, papa,” your daughter had called out, retrieving the little football and sprinting toward him, tiny feet carrying her over the damp and verdant grass of y’all’s backyard. Jason never brought the both of you to parks—an excess of people to watch, different personalities and behaviors; a myriad of possibilities for tragedy. Too much room for error in a vast, leafy expanse.

“You’ve gotta bring it to me first,” Jason called back, outstretching his muscular arms, awaiting her arrival. He was paranoid and distrustful of the world, not a killjoy. Y’all’s daughter’s bedroom was littered with vivid nail polishes, fluffy scarves, glittering tiaras, and Monster High dolls. Your daughter had always adored Frankie Stein and Frankenstein because they reminded her of Jason and herself, the dolls and humans both sharing pale white streaks of hair. He hadn’t known whether to laugh or weep upon hearing those words from her lips, innocent and completely unaware of the accuracies spanning far past hair color.

“Jason, I love you, but we are not cooping ourselves up in the house this summer.” The words were firm and unyielding—but lacking any true bite.

“ I’ve given you grace. I let a lot slide because I understand your background. But we’re just not doing it this summer. Its too hot to not go to waterparks and enjoy ourselves because of possibilities.” A damn good point rested upon your tongue, and he knew it.

“Fine.” He relented with a jocosely petulant huff.” But we take a gun with us.”

Tim Drake is an ambitious father. It’s been said before, but I don’t believe he’s as active as the fandom would believe. Though, his absence isn’t born of malice or indifference, but ambition, a thirst for a legacy. He wants to be a man his significant other and child can be proud of, a father worth bragging about. There’s also a large chamber seated within his mind that knows not how to be a father, for his parents were cold, choosing to throw dollars at his gripes and needs rather than be present.

One of his greatest fears is disappointing the both of you, like he was disappointed by his own parents, so disappointed he couldn’t even despise them. Tragically, the mission to avoid history’s repetition had placed him before a mirror, his parents gazing back at him, a smug smirk curled on their lips because they know that he’ll be on their end of the glass within a few decades.

Can he be blamed? Tim wants the absolute best for his family. The best grades, the best schools, the best scores, the best scholarships. He’s not naïve enough like Dick to believe hard work and persevere can lift a nobody anywhere. There are no bootstraps to be pulled taut. It’s an illusion, a sauce wealthy people spoon over their meals to disguise the taste of nepotism and privilege. Manipulations the rich regurgitate to excuse themselves from having to acknowledge the unfair, biased system they’ve upheld.

The door to his limousine slammed closed, his child seated beside but, but farther than ever. What could be said? Jerking forward, the limousine rolled into drive, coasting beneath autumn streaked clouds, as though her father had gifted her the sky from a florist. Bruce hadn’t prepared Tim for the teenaged terror years. He couldn’t help but wonder if he himself had been this capricious and fickle as a teen, or if he were merely that bad of a father.

“Do. . . do you want a Milkshake? From that one place by the house, like we used to when you were young.” Tim couldn’t help but raise a hopeful raven shaded brow. He could smell the stench of sweat, an anxious perspiration, cleaving to your school uniform. It must’ve been a test day.” I’ll clear the rest of my schedule for us. . . if you want, of course.” He extended an olive branch, granting her the choice to engage and accept, or set the course for the rest her teenage years.

Damian Wayne does not want children. He doesn’t know how far his taint would bleed, and all he can envision are the ways he could disgrace the mind of a child. His village was rotten and evil. Bad fruits bear worse seeds.

Damian’s devotion was love, the purest kind he knew, a primal desire to protect and cherish that of which he adored. You forged suns in his heart, set the butterflies in his belly aflutter. Beneath a weeping of sheet of violet sky, the both of you had sworn to love the other until Earth imploded—and when it did, he would find you in another universe.

He doesn’t hate children. In fact, he would be a decent babysitter for Dick and Jason, and whenever Tim deigned to grace the BatCave with his presence. But, Damian is staunch in his childfree attitude, and you respect it. Truthfully, you weren’t even sure you wanted kids. No, you and Damian battled crime, traveled the world and experienced culture, learned histories outside of the filth pumped into his mind by the Al Ghuls. Bruce was saddened by Damian’s decision against children, but he ultimately respected it—and him.

Damian knew he was poisoned and rotten and always would be, no matter what emblem was sewn over his breast. He was content with the life the both of you had, and knowing Dick, many more children are to come, so he’d never get lonely.” Beloved, what do you make of Italy? Not the tourist parts where the history is washed, but the ripe lands.”

Bruce Wayne is a weary father. He knew the birth of his youngest child was redemption, his last chance at preserving the Wayne name since Damian had sworn off children. But Bruce was aged, hardened, jaded, weary. He had scars to last a lifetime, some worn on his heart, though majority were worn on his skin.

The Wayne brownstone was eerily silent since Alfred’s death. Bruce’s son sat around the oaken table, coloring a picture of Superman, Wonder Woman, Batman, and Alfred. Bruce’s heavy lids fell over exhausted, dim blue irises, his brain flitting back to the memories of Alfred, gathered at the stove and learning a recipe. I am. . . old, Master Bruce. My time on this earth is not infinite. You must learn more than the ways of fists, the words echoed in his mind. Reminding him that old age wasn’t even the murderer of Alfred Pennyworth.

He fetched an inhale before pulling himself off of the couch, and padding over toward his son at the dinner table.” What’s that? Oh, a pretty picture. A real artistic talent, like Damian.” Bruce was unsure of his fathering more often than not. He knew how it appeared to his son’s school counselors and the principal—old, washed up playboy Bruce Wayne saddled with another young son. That was far from the case, but the masses will believe anything when they’re given nothing.

Bruce fetched a pot and skillet from the creaking cabinets of the brownstone, far from the elegance and cleanliness of the manor. Alfred would’ve been mortified to see the mess, he almost chuckled, but withheld it. Lest his son raise a question, for the explanation would be too complicated and long-winded for his young mind.” So, what do you see for dinner tonight? What makes that belly growl like a lion? Mac and Cheese? Lasagna? Hamburger Helper?”

Bruce knew exactly what his son would choose. Asking was merely a courtesy. Bruce knew him, raised the boy from the minute he was weaned. He knew what his son would do before his son knew what he himself would do. The Batman wasn’t a slacker, wasn’t lazy.