#and Alfred asks when his birthday is so he can be prepared

[varpusvaras]

Dick, 18 years old, standing in his kitchen and wanting to make something good and comforting for Jason. For the record, Jason has not complained about any of the food that Dick makes, instead inhaling all of it every single time, but Dick has had a long day and Jason has had a long day and Dick is standing in his kitchen and staring at his table and feeling very inadequate for all of this.

So he calls Alfred. Just to ask how to make one of his recipes.

Maybe he sounds a little too tired and emotional over the phone, because Alfred asks what's wrong, and Dick kinda blurts out a very shortened version of what's going on.

It takes Alfred exactly two hours to appear to his place with containers full of food and grocery bags and his book of his personal recipes, and they spend the entire evening practising.

[niwaart]

DIFFERENT WORLD, DIFFERENT FAMILY.

(Introduction, part1....)

Y/N woke up to a sound... not a completely quiet sound... which had a lot of meanings... and not good ones at all... Well let's think positively.. Why didn't Dick come to her room this morning? Maybe he's still asleep... or maybe he's preparing some kind of surprise? No... today isn't her birthday or even Mother's Day... that's okay, maybe he's with Jason planning a new prank? Yeah yeah... so why didn't Bruce wake her up?... Maybe he's busy with some case... or maybe he's making breakfast for the kids... that's right... no need to worry...

She stood up from the bed slowly and gracefully... If Jason was planning a prank with Dick then that meant she had to be careful not to fall for it... It's easy, expect the unexpected and you'll be fine... (almost)... She walked to the door after making sure the door didn't hold any traps, she walked out of the room but there was an uneasy feeling inside her... Like something was wrong... But no negative thoughts! Only positive ones!

“Okay Y/N you can do this, don’t freak out, this is just a prank..” Y/N walked through the hallways, while noticing some paintings missing… Where were the pictures of her with her kids? And her husband? Dick or Jason can’t take them, they know they are precious… Something is wrong… Something is wrong this morning. Out of panic, Y/N ran downstairs screaming “Dick!! Jason!! Bruce!! Where are you!!!"

When she reached the basement she saw breakfast ready on the dining table her tension eased for a second before it returned again and more so to find that there was a strange man in a formal uniform inside the kitchen of her house... Who is this?... Her shock was not enough yet as she looked again at the dining table and saw that there was a small child... This is not Little Dick or Jason... Who is this?... And beside the small boy there is another boy who looks older but is very thin and looks tired... Who is this?... And at the top of the table there is a man... Wait... It's Bruce! "Bruce! What's happening? Where are the children? Who are these?" She said in panic while Bruce who stopped drinking his coffee when she entered looked at her with suspicion and confusion

“I can’t believe it, Father… Why didn’t you tell us that you brought a strange woman… It’s not your habit to bring one of your relationships home.” The little boy remembered in a tone that was familiar to Y/N.

“No… I don’t remember bringing anyone home with me… Who are you?” Bruce stood up from his seat cautiously, who knows, maybe you’re a villain in disguise. Y/N looked at Bruce carefully… Now did her husband always look so old? With so many wrinkles? And the signs of fatigue under his eyes looked like they were from years ago and not just last night… No… Take her husband, in a split second she wanted to pull out her weapon… A small dagger from the top of her leg, but she was surprised that her weapon was not there…

“Are you looking for this?” The young boy pointed to the dagger he was holding… whenever he could… Y/N instinctively stepped back and got into a defensive stance. “Who are you… where are my kids… and what are you doing in my house… let me warn you that I am not an easy person to play with… and you better answer honestly and quickly because I am not very patient with strangers.”

The skinny boy was watching all this wearily as he drank his coffee uninterested... The strange man in formal clothes approached... He looked like a butler with his gait

“Excuse me, miss, but do you know where you are right now?” The butler looked at her in confusion at her words.

“Alfred, don’t interfere, and stay away, she might be one of the bad guys.” The man who looked like her husband Bruce replied…

“Father, can I hold her?” The little boy said as he asked his father’s permission

Y/N prepared to attack and defend herself, she will not spare anyone who takes her children... It's okay her husband will be fine, but her children are a red line and anyone who crosses it will die. Bruce looked at Y/N with a strange, unreadable expression... Was he thinking? Was he planning? Y/N didn't understand what he was thinking... He was just like her husband, unreadable... "Okay, Damian, hold her, but don't hurt her, and stay careful." Bruce's lookalike said to the small boy... Damian? Did he just say Damian? Y/N looked at the child carefully... Is this Damian? Her child? No, Damian is 22 now, not a child... But.. But... He looks like Damian when he was a child!

Damian smiled widely, "This will be so easy." Damian ran towards Y/N who was lost in thought and tried to attack her neck with the plan of making her pass out but what surprised him was that the next second he found himself face down on the ground pinned... What?

Bruce, the skinny boy, and the man named Alfred were surprised.. while Y/N was shocked by the movements of the boy who looked like her son Damian a moment ago... those were the movements of her son Damian when he first came home... "You.. who are you... where is my family... where are my children and husband.. " she said while keeping Damian still under her. "You little one.. what's your mother's name?.." Bruce stepped forward carefully to make sure she wouldn't do anything to Damian. "Leave the boy alone... what do you want? And children are you talking about? You're in Wayne's house now... my house.."

Y/N wanted to tighten her grip but she didn't want to hurt the little boy who looked like her son. She just held him down so he couldn't move. "I know I'm at Wayne's house, this is my house, and I own the place, don't you dare even call it your house." Y/N looked seriously at Bruce who was worried about the little boy. Behind him stood the skinny boy, Alfred. "You!! Let go of me now!" Damian tried to get himself out from under the strange woman... How was she able to stop his attack? And pin him down so well he couldn't move a bone!

Bruce looked at the woman in shock… Her house? How so? She must be lying… Wait… The ring… The ring the woman is holding… It’s the same ring as his dead mother’s… How…! “You… Who are you?… How did you get my mother’s ring?” Bruce looked at the woman in shock, did she steal his valuables? How dare you!… Y/N looked at the man in shock… His mother’s ring? No, that’s her mother-in-law’s ring. “Don’t you dare talk about my mother-in-law’s ring you son of a bitch! Where are my kids!!” Y/N was sick of all this, she didn’t want to waste any more time, her kids must be waiting for her now… Scared and wanting to go home…

Before Bruce could say anything, the skinny boy stepped in front of Bruce. “Wait a minute, who are your children?” the skinny boy said. “Tim no…” Bruce couldn’t finish his sentence until the boy called Tim stopped him again. “Calm down Bruce.”

Y/N looked at the skinny boy… Tim? Timothy? No… No, her son Tim isn’t skinny, he has a distinctive mark on his cheek… So no… that’s not her son either. “What do you mean who are my children?” Y/N looked at Tim with confusion and impatience.

“I mean their names, what are your children’s names, maybe we can help you find them. And don’t say that we kidnapped them, you’re in a different world now. This is not the same world you were befor.” Tim said calmly, not saying it was a beautiful day, not saying anything unfriendable. Everyone looked at Tim in shock.

“What do you mean, is this a joke? I swear if I get even a scratch on one of my children, I’ll dig your grave with my own hands!” Y/N said. In disbelief, while Damian was still struggling to get out of her grip and Bruce was waiting for him, Tim looked at him in confusion.

“What do you mean by that, Tim? How did you figure that out?” Bruce asked questioningly, Tim calmly answered him as he held up Y/N’s dagger, “With this dagger, if you look closely, you’ll notice Arabic letters written on it, and this is Damian’s handwriting without a doubt, and it says ‘Happy Birthday, Mom’ and there’s a little Robin sign on it, and the other thing is how she showed up in the house out of the blue, no one could just walk in like that with the heavy security in the house, and also she stopped Damian like she was used to his movements, which means she knew Damian from before.”

“I don’t know this woman!!” Danian said angrily. He was tired of being like this! “Get away from me!!” Damian tried to struggle again to get out, but it was no use.

Bruce looked at the dagger thinking, it was really his son's handwriting, and there was Robin's mark, which meant she knew their true identities at night, and also it wasn't the first time someone came from another world, so it could be true. Y/N thought about it, first the missing pictures in the house, and her children but... younger and with some differences, and her husband but with wrinkles that made him look old, and a strange man unknown until now. She looked at the little boy below her. "Damian?... You're Damian? Talia al Ghul's son? Ra's al Ghul's grandson?"

Damian sighed in annoyance and anger, “How do you know my mother and grandfather?” Y/N was surprised for a moment… so it was really Damian, her little son, and not a lookalike.

"دايمان، أنت هو حقا! طفلي! ... " Y/N said in Arabic which surprised Damian.

《Damian, you are him! My son!》

“You… how do you know…” Damian said in shock. Y/N immediately let go of him and helped him up and adjusted his clothes. “You’re the one who taught me, kiddo. I’m sorry, are you okay? Did I hurt you somewhere?” Y/N said apologetically as she gently held his hand. Damian was still in shock. Bruce was convinced that Y/N was from another world now. “So I guess it was just a misunderstanding? Well, if you don’t mind, I don’t want breakfast to get cold, so everyone have a seat now.” Alfred said, who was followed by Tim to sit in his seat, while Y/N took the dagger and handed it to Damian. “I don’t think you remember this, but this gift is my most precious thing, and of course it’s a useful gift.”

Damian took the dagger and examined it. It looked like the one he had now… but this one looked old… as if it had been used hundreds of times. Damian let out a yelp when Y/N suddenly picked him up. “Hey! Let go of me! Now!!” Y/N ignored Damian as she placed him in his seat and sat next to him. Tim who had been enjoying it from the start, from Y/N pinning him down to holding him like a little baby, laughed. Damian, his face red with anger, and probably embarrassed, mumbled curse words in Arabic.

“Hey, I can understand you, don’t forget that.” She pinched his cheek but he slapped her hand away. “Don’t touch me!” Y/N laughed at Damian’s reaction. “Oh my god, you remind me of when you were sixteen.. You were always so intolerant of me, and mean, but I got used to you.”

Alfred placed breakfast in front of Y/N as she silently thanked him. “But Damian is sixteen now..” Bruce said looking at Y/N in confusion. “Uh… Well… That’s true.. Given his size, but in my world Damian is twenty-two now.”

Everyone looked at Y/N in shock except for Alfred who was bringing the green tea as requested by Y/N. “Yes, and Timmy? You’re 20, Jason’s 16, and Dick’s 12.”

Tim wasn't much surprised... when he knew that in another world he was twenty...it is only two years older than now... but what surprised him the most was that Dick is only 12?!! And Jason is 16?!! How?! "Wait, can I ask Bruce's age in another world? And Alfred too" Tim said very curiously... his hand itching to get his notebook to record.

Y/N looked at Tim with a gentle smile, he was like her child in her original world. Curious. “Bruce is 54... As for Alfred... Well... There was no one named Alfred..”

This time Bruce was the one who was surprised, how did Bruce live in your world without Alfred?... "And what is your relationship with the Wayne family?" Bruce looked at his mother's ring on Y/N's finger.... Could it be that she...

"I am Bruce Wayne's wife, Y/N."

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 6

Enjoy Chapter 6! Ch8 will be a look into what has been happening in Ghotam and Ch9 will probably follow the first episode of Invincible.

We're slowly approaching the main timeline age, so if ya'll want a specific character to make an appearance or would like to see a specific plot line this is your time to speak now or forever remain silent /j

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 6 >>next

He is crazy- he can’t just- He-!

You couldn’t even know where to begin telling what happened. One moment you were relaxing, enjoying the sun, living the dream- and then this old, 6 feet and 2 inches of pure muscle, alien-man thing just up and kidnaps you. Omni-Man kidnapped you with a simple “Hello, kid. Let’s go home.” You were more shocked than angry, to be honest, the man was just spewing nonsense as he flew you across the states.

Now, Nolan wouldn’t call it kidnapping- why, he’d never! He was just- cleaning up the streets, helping a homeless kid, even though he knew where she lived- it was adopting without all the other steps!

He was meticulous in his watching, not stalking, but watching, observing. When Cecil first called him, bringing to his attention a mysterious flying person coming and going from NYC, he was ready for a villain, an alien preparing to overtake NYC, anything but a tween kid shakily flying, almost hitting buildings and nearly being taken down by other flying heroes.

He knew she was no threat; he told Cecil as much- but he kept coming back. Something kept making him come back, just to look, to make sure she didn’t hurt herself or others- he kept telling himself. He knew deep inside why he came back every day for a year, it was the same reason why he married Debbie, it was the same reason why he couldn’t bring himself to hate his son.

Sure, she was living well, but the food she ate, if she remembered to, wasn’t sustainable, she needed home-cooked food, she needed socializing and training, she needed- she needed a family and stability. Nolan took the initiative to pack her bags and everything in her little apartment and move her into his and Debbie’s house, in the room next to Mark’s. And then, he took her.

You didn’t put up much of a fight if one at all, but really what could you say or do when Omi-Man has deemed you his and his wife’s kid, the man spoke of her highly, his son too, but still- He kidnapped you, you wouldn’t just stay- “And Debbie is making this roast beef with baked potatoes-“…

Some would call you weak, others would say you can be easily bought, but this was the greatest roast beef you had tasted in a long while. “This is amazing food, Mrs. Grayson.” You could play along for a while. The woman just smiled and thanked you, insisting on you calling her Debbie. The offer of ice cream made you sure you could play along for a long while.

She wasn’t initially happy with Nolan coming with a random kid under his arm, but one look at your disheveled appearance and wide eyes made her rethink everything. A daughter wouldn’t hurt, two kids would make the house happier, and you reminded her of those scuffed up little kittens, she didn’t have it in her to let you go without a meal at least.

Over dinner, you answered every question they threw at you, from your name to Mark asking if you like comics, but when they asked your age, you just shrugged. “Around 13-14? Can’t quite remember, I haven’t celebrated my birthday ever, mom just told me how old I was and then-“ Your body went rigid.

You were telling too much, getting too comfortable- but, maybe this was your chance at a true family. Can’t back down now, you could always just leave if you really wanted. The two adults understood as soon as you tensed up, Debbie immediately acting as her hand soothingly rubbed at your shoulder and back while they let you decide whether to continue or change the subject. “She died when I was five.”

She smiled at you softly, apologizing for prying and giving their condolences, something not even Alfred did. All Nolan saw was an opportunity to grab you and never let go, to give you what the father that clearly wasn’t in the picture never gave.

Mark just grabbed your wrist, a sad frown on his face. “I can share my parent with you. I know I’d be sad if mom or dad were gone. We can be siblings!” His bright smile was contagious, making you smile just as bright before your hopeful eyes met Debbie’s. She was sold a while back, as soon as you called her pretty while calling Nolan a bum and asking how she had the misfortune of marrying a brute, making the man grumble as he sat you on the couch, your hopeful glance just set it in stone.

Despite having a room all to yourself, you wanted to push. They were different to the Waynes, that was clear. They were warmer, talked to you, and it all felt so much better. So, you wanted to test the water by asking Mark if he’d be willing to share his bedroom with you tonight, not wanting to be alone. Not when you had the opportunity to soak in any attention they give you.

The boy was excited to have a sleepover in his room, eager to show you all the comics and toys he had- and neither Debbie nor Nolan could say no. Not to two pairs of puppy eyes. The adults were sure this weakness to saying no wouldn’t last… Hopefully.

Spending the night with Mark was amazing, it was everything you thought Dick and the other would give you. He showed you all his comics, letting you read all of them, and as the night settled and the stars were high in the sky you taught him about them. In the end, you both fell asleep in the pillow fort you made, comic books lying open around you. Your plans of escape quickly went out the window, this family thing with them felt like it was worth trying. You liked NYC, but maybe Chicago is where you belonged. And if the adults heard you two giggle and fuss around all night, they didn’t say anything.

By next week you were a Grayson, thanks to Cecil’s string-pulling. Looks like Nolan knew exactly what to say to make the man agree.

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion @lovebug-apple

my greatest fear is misspelling a name and tagging someone who has never seen this 🫠

[jasmines-library]

Would it be too much to request a batsis oneshot, about her knowing how to cook😆 like whenever Alfred is not available he leaves her in charge to help ensure the other family members are eating without buring down the house🤭 also a lil thing u could add is she often visits the manor just to cook cuz Alfred always keeps the kitchen fully stocked with ingredients which means she can cook pretty much anything she desires💜 I just thought it'd be cute to have Bruce be envious of his daughters cooking skills whereas he lacks them🤭

Kitchen Antics

Thanks for requesting! This was cute to write!

Word Count: 1k

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

“I still don’t think this is very fair.” Bruce pouted as you slid the plate in front of him.

“Hm?”

“This.” He gestured to the plate that you had served to him, piled to the brim. It had taken you hours to prepare, especially without Alfred’s help, but it was well worth it. “How come Alfred lets you cook and not me. I’m a fully grown adult. I should be allowed to cook a meal for my family.”

“Maybe it’s because you can’t actually cook.” You threw over your shoulder with a smug grin. 

That earnt a snort from Damian which he hid poorly behind a hand. Bruce shot him an unamused look. 

“Can too.” Bruce said. This time you raised a brow as you slid into your seat.

“Oh yeah, because the last time you cooked it turned out great.” Jason rolled his eyes. 

You remember it distinctly. It was one of the first times Alfred was away and had reluctantly let Bruce use the kitchen. He had regretted it the moment he returned because his kitchen was hardly recognisable. And the food Bruce had cooked was less so. If you could even count it as food. It was the furthest thing from edible. Somehow undercooked and burnt to a crisp around the edges at the same time. Even Alfred wasn’t sure how he managed to do that, and he had seen almost everything when baking with the rest of your brothers. It was safe to say that Bruce was no longer allowed in the kitchen after that. So, the responsibility turned to you. 

Alfred had always said you had a natural talent for cooking, though you swore it was because you had the best teacher: You had spent countless hours helping him when you were younger and you were the only person he didn’t seem to physically wince at when you walked into the kitchen. So, naturally when he announced he was leaving this week he entrusted you to make sure the family were fed without the entire manor being burnt down, or being filled with takeout boxes.

Your brothers had tried countless times to worm their way into the kitchen, but you ushered them out every time. They were just as bad as Bruce when it came to cooking. There was one time Damian and Dick had tried to bake a cake to surprise Bruce on his birthday. And it did…when the fire they had started nearly set the whole kitchen alight. Luckily Alfred had smelt it before any real damage could happen, but the pair of adults were far from happy. Jason had never shown much interest in cooking. He would usually just grab himself a snack from one of the cupboards instead of actually cooking himself something, so he had never really been an issue to keep out. Though, often he would try to sabotage your work just to wind you up. As for Tim, he was the best out of the four boys. By no means a master at work, it was often slightly bland but he was the only one who hadn’t tried to kill everyone with his cooking so he got bonus points for that. 

“That was one time.” Bruce turned his head away, pouting like a small child.

“Tt. Father, I think you’ve tried to poison us every time you’ve gone near the kitchen.” Damian jested through a mouthful of food. “Perhaps you should ask Joker to try it. Might take a villain off of our hands.”

Tim stifled a laugh. “This is lovely, Y/N. Thank you.”

You smiled. “Thank you.”

The six of you fell into a comfortable silence as you ate, before Bruce finally spoke up again. Cutting through the sound of cutlery scraping against china plates.

“Is my cooking really that bad?”

He was answered with silence. And a lot of smirks.

“...Are you jealous of Y/N, Father?” Dick grinned.

“Psh…No.”

Bruce was a terrible liar. 

~

“Do you need any assistance, Miss Y/N?” Alfred poked his head around the kitchen door. He had returned from his trip not too long ago, glad to see that everyone had been well fed and that the house was still in one piece. 

Glancing up from the bowl of ingredients you were whisking, you met Alfred’s proud glance. “No thank you, Alfred. You already have everything I need.”

Alfred smiled up at you. It was nice for you to stop by once in a while to see them. He enjoyed seeing you cook. Better yet he enjoyed tasting your new creations each week so he kept everything stocked, even if he knew he wouldn’t need it himself. The shelves were lined with all sorts of spices, flours, sugars and ingredients for you to create something new so that if you ever decided to stop by (which you liked to do at least once a week) he would have everything  you could ever need.

Your brothers loved it when you would bring over food to them too. Most of it would be gone in minutes and they would turn to you asking for more. Bruce would do the same too, although he would still have that look of teasing jealousy on his face. But he was proud really. And glad that at least one of his children had enough common sense to not set the entire manor alight when baking a cake. 

BATFAM TAGLIST:

@aestheticdaisies

@hell-o-kittys

@xxrougefangxx

@mamapucket

@hearts4robs

@harleycao

[sitepathos]

I’m guessing the batfam acting delusional about how reader really feels is how they cope with what they’ve done?

sure acting a bit delusional from time to time is good for your mental health, but considering the circumstances they’re probably now aware that, if not for reader being saved the last words he would’ve heard from them would be them essentially confirming that he was never part of their family.

they probably understand, deep down, that he has every right to hate them but acknowledging that would cause them to really go off the deep end.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

You’ve earned yourself a prize, dear reader!

I’ve said it in a previous chapter, immense guilt is at the core of their delusions. When Alfred told them that you made the game on his laptop (that was 100% planned, by the way), they realized that none of them could even say one fact about you. Hell, not even Bruce knew when your birthday was (something that he definitely should’ve known).

When all of them realized that none of them have even had a conversation with you, they knew they fucked up and fucked up big.

Bruce realized he wasn’t a father to you; Dick realized that he failed in his role as the big brother to all of the Wayne children; Tim, realized that he knew less than nothing about you (something unacceptable to him); Jason, Barbara, Steph, and Cass had treated you poorly; and Damian realized that he had wasted the last ten years pushing away his only blood brother instead of trying to connect to him.

They already felt guilty at this realization, but when Alfred dropped the bombshell that was the news of you having left Gotham four years ago after graduation (something none for them attended), this started a downward spiral of never ending guilt.

They feel so bad at how they treated you and they want a second chance more than anything else, their guilt is making them think they they’re entitled to a do-over. You lived with them and as much as they didn’t treat you like it, you’re a part of their family and family doesn’t walk away from family (yes, they’re that level of delusional) and if you’d just give them a chance, they’ll make it up to you, complete with a proper bedroom (next to his), being included on all family get-togethers, and being touted in the media as the most treasured member of the Wayne Family.

Bruce knew you’d have some resentment towards them (god knows they deserve it), but to see you react so violently towards him and your siblings was something he wasn’t prepared for.

Of course, no one in this family knows when to quit, thus beginning the start of their harassment of you. They won’t stop knocking on your door and talking to you until you move back to Gotham (but please talk to them first, they have so much they want to ask you).

They were already determined to get you back to the manor, but learning you’re the host of the Megamycete has only made them double their efforts.

But, as much as they try to deny it, there’s the little part in their minds that tells them that their actions are driven by their guilt and should they ever accept that there’s nothing they can do to make amends, that you’ll always hate them and think so little of them, they’d shatter.

But they shove that part to the back of their minds and lock it up (something everyone in this fucked up family is an expert in). In fact, they don’t even know it’s there.

All that matters is getting you back to the manor and finding a way to separate you from this parasitic mold.

After that, you’ll be a part for their family.

Forever.

[spidernuggets]

hi i’ve never sent a request before so i’m super nervous- but all i can think about this the combination of this trend https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8GtUCqV/ and jason todd

maybe something happens on patrol and jason doesn’t tell the reader, but not telling the reader what happens is a long bad habit he has, so reader finally leaves and jason breaks…

idk it’s up to your interpretation but i can’t see the trend without jason brain rot

Jason Todd x Reader

"Please- Please stay, I need you, oh God, please"

Jason was instructed to return to the Batcave to stitch up some injuries. But he was dizzy. His head was cloudy. He couldn't think straight. He couldn't stop looking at the blood on his hands.

Even when he spent 10 minutes scrubbing and washing them, he still couldn't stop looking at his hands.

"Are you feeling well, Master Todd?" Alfred asks, concern spread across his face as he prepared cleaning essentis for Jaso . Alfred didn't want to admit it, but he somewhat favoured Jason. He taught Jason patience, initiative, and even cooking. Even with their shared birthday, Alfred couldn't help but grow fond for Jason more than the other Batkids. But he'd never let anyone else know.

The question made Jason sniffle. Alfred paused from wiping the dried blood off Jason's shoulder.

"Master Todd?"

"She was 11, Alfred. She was just a child, and she died. I wasn't fast enough. I failed her," He whimpered. The kid he was talking about lived in Crime Alley, a few blocks down from where he used to grow up.

A new drug ring was rounding up kids in poverty, particularly those who lived around Crime Alley, to work in their establishment. But when Batman found out about this, their escape route was to blow up the evidence. Almost all the kids got out. But after a head count, Jason realised one person was missing.

That's when he heard an ear-piercing scream from. the building. He started to run towards the warehouse, but as soon as he reached the door, the whole building collapsed right in front of him.

But the fallen debris didn't stop him from going in. He had hope that the girl managed to survive, that somehow, a miracle occurred, and that she was able to avoid any severe injuries and cheat death.

But there was no mircale. Jason was slapped in the face with the harsh reality when he stumbled across the limp body that was contorted through wooden beams and metal pipes.

Jason's heart ached, his chest grew heavy, and his head throbbed.

He fell to his knees, cradling the girl's head in his hands as his sobs pierced the silence.

As Dick found him, he placed a hand to his shoulder. He promised Jason that she'd have a proper bed to rest in. A proper place to be in peace. They'd find the comfiest casket they could find and have her buried where wild, beautiful flowers grew.

The body was put into Dick's care as Jason didn't trust Bruce with the promises that Dick proposed.

As Alfred listened to Jason's cried, he knelt down beside him, forhead resting against his bicep and assured him that he did his best, and that the little girl still would've seen him as a hero.

Jason didn't know who the girl was. He doesn't know most of the kids in Crime Alley. But he knows what they're going through. He know the hard times they will face. So he sees them as family. He sees them as his family.

When Jason returned to your shared apartment, your head popped out from your bedroom door. You were excited to see Jason, but when you saw his exhausted, melancholic, and baggy eyes, you knew he was going through something again. You just didn't know what. But you wanted to know. You wanted to know so you could help him.

You jogged over to him, about to cup his face with your hands, but he raised his arm, stopping yours from going up any further.

"Not today, I- I just can't," He murmured, walking to your shared room. Your heart broke. You wished there was something you could do to help him. But this wasn't the first time he shrugged away your comfort.

Every breakdown, episode, and mental collapse he has after coming back from wherever he's out to, he ignores you, avoids eye contact, shuts you out. He never tells you why he's so depressed looking. All the times before, you asked why he won't talk to you, in which his response always remained "You wouldn't understand." He's always be less down the next morning.

But the sun's rays crack through your curtains, waking you up from your deep slumber. You see Jason's vare back facing you, his body at the edge of the bed. You believed he's in a better moor, so you decide to get up before him and whip uo some breakfast for him.

French toast always did it for him. For you too. It was the two of you's comfort food. It was warm, not too sweet, both crispy and soft. It was perfect.

So, while the battered bread laid in the pan, you began to cut the leaves off the strawberries. That's when you heard his heavy footsteps coming your way.

No matter what, when he wakes up, giving you a kiss on the forhead is the first thing he does. But when you go towards him to offer a hug, he swerves, walking towards the fridge.

Whatever happened last night must've taken a harsh toll on him. You lowered the fire on the stive and called out to him.

"Jay? Jay, what happened last night?" You softly ask. In response, Jason grunts, telling you it was nothing and that it was a really long night.

Then, you swutched off the stove completely to prevent your apartment from burning down.

"Bullshit," you say. Jason doesn't even turn to face you as he's pouring himself a glass of water. "Jason, you look exhausted. You look dead! What the hell happened last night that could've possibly made you this way??" You raised your voice. You couldn't help it. You were so worried for him, and he wasn't giving you any answers.

"Nothing fucking happened!" He yells. "Even if something did, it's none of your business because not a chance in hell would you understand!"

You stand there, staring at him in disbelief. "Jason." He pauses when you say his full name. It sounded unfamiliar. You haven’t called him 'Jason' in a long while. It's always been Jay or some pet name.

"I have always been by your side. I've been on your side when you've made the most dumb, impulsive decisions. But not once have I doubted you. But right now, it's- it's like you don't want me on your side. Like.. you just keep pushing me away with no answers. Jason, I'm never going to stop being on your side, but I can't do that if you just keep shutting me out." You're tired of trying to keeo uo with Jason's mysteries. You'd be lying if you said you didn't try to follow him to wherever he's always off to. But he always vanishes whenever you think you found the answers.

You went into your bedroom, grabbed a small bag, and shoved some clothes in it. Jason rushed behind you, leaning against the doorframe. His eyes are wide, and he's in disbelief.

"W-wait. What're you doing??" He asks, trying to catch his breath.

"I- I can't, Jason. Listen, we both need space right now. You're going through something and won't let me help, and I.. I just feel so useless right now, okay? I don't know.. We just need a break, alright?" You tiredly say, throwing your bag over your shoulder.

You were about to pass him, but he blocks the doorway, and unfortunately, his large frame is in the way of any possible chance of getting through.

"Jason, move," you say, almost getting annoyed.

Tears start to sting his eyes. "No, stop, please, I- I'm sorry, I-"

"Enough, Jason!" You cried. "Some separation will he best for the both of us!"

Jason's knees began to feel weak. His legs trembled, and slowly, he fell to his knees. Your eyes widen, surprised at this new action.

Jason takes your hands in his. "Please- Please stay, I need you, oh God, please," he says so quietly. He moves your hands to rest on his forhead, his eyes tight shut with tears dropping one by one.

Never have you seen Jason so vulnerable. "I'm sorry, please, I'l be better! I'll... I'll tell you everything! Every single detail, just please don't leave," he cries.

You tried so hard to be the one to call a break. But you guess you love Jason too much. "You promise, Jay?" You sighed. The nickname made Jason's heart race and his head shoot up to look at you. He nods rapidly.

"Yes, yes. I promise. I'll tell you everything. Just please don't leave me alone. And olease, please don't leave after I tell you," he begs. Your brows knit together, confused as to what he could mean. You nod, and Jason's breaths are stuttered as he gets up and you lead him to the bed.

And he completes his promises. From when he lived in Crime Alley to when he became Robin to when he died. When he became Red Hood to when he made a truce with Batman. And to when he failed to save the kid last night.

He told you everything.

And you just stared at him. No wonder Jason had always seemed so strong.

Tears continued to stream down Jason's cheeks as he looked straight forward, refusing to look at you.

"Jay," you called out to him, making him look at you. Your hands meet his cheeks, caressing them gently with your thumbs. "You've been through so much," you say sadly. You bring his head down to your shoulder, your lips lingering on his forhead. "I wish I could've been more so I could help you."

Jason shakes his head. "Don't say that," he barely whispers. "You are more. You're enough. You've helped me so much. I'm sorry I dragged you into this life. Maybe separation is the best for us," his voice cracks.

"No," you reply. "I promised I'd stay. I don't break my promises. And I'm not staying just because I promised you. I'm staying because I love you. Nothing's going to change that."

A sob escaped his throat as Jason buried his face further into your neck.

He always believed he was so selfish. Keeping you for himself while he has one of the most dangerous lives. He always believed you deserved better. But you stay.

For him.

[camillomea]

Child of crime alley 9-sleep depriver

hellu new episode. Enjoy reading you are loved <3 thanks for the support.

When they left the clinic Jason said "Let's go bird". Tim said "um" hesitantly. Jason said "did you forget I promised you dinner". Tim blinked then nodded. At first the two of them went to a pharmacy and got Tim's medicine and vitamins. Then they went to Jason's house. Tim was exhausted. Jason started to prepare food. Tim offered to help at first but Jason told him to sit and wait. Tim finally gave up and sat down. Jason said "Timmy" in a calm tone. Tim asked "sir". Jason asked "you wanted to go to your old house didn't you? What exactly are you looking for" Tim looked at him and remained silent. Jason continued to cook. When he finally answered he said "my camera. That was my first and only birthday present. I had a darkroom at home". Jason froze "something else" he asked. Tim said "the only thing that matters is him and my photos. The only thing you could take when you left there was this bag" he said quietly. Jason asked. Tim quietly mumbled the answer. Jason quickly turned his head to him. "I don't get it!!" he said. Tim mumbled. "Bat pictures." Jason froze. "You want subjects...." he said. Tim said. "Yes." Jason looked at him in shock. "Oh my God, I'll definitely have to see them," he said excitedly. Tim remained silent. A small smile formed on his face. When he finally got around to making dinner, he served it to him. Tim's eyes were bright with the smell and his stomach was growling. Jason said, "Enjoy your meal, bird." Tim started eating with gusto. Jason started to eat and put some on himself, don't forget to tell me if you want more, bird." Tim nodded as he ate.

When they finished eating, Jason made sure he had taken his medicine. Then he said, "Sleep in my spare room, bird." Tim said, "No need for that," quietly. Jason sighed, "How about just staying for today and we'll go to the cave together tonight." Tim blinked. After a while of hesitation, he nodded. Hasan ruffled his hair and smiled. He showed him the room. He gave him pajamas to wear. Tim thanked him quietly, changed his clothes and lay down on the bed. Jason said, "good night, bird," while stroking his head. He closed the curtains for him and covered him up.

***

When Cass arrived at the clock tower, she went straight to Barbara and asked, "Where's little brother?" Barbara said, "Jason and I went to Doctor Leslie. Jason was a little worried about when Jason last went to the doctor. So he dragged Tim there." He looked like he hadn't slept much. Cass asked, "What happened?" in a serious tone. Barbara ran her hand through her hair and groaned, just pointing at the computer. Cass looked there. She sat down on the empty chair and started watching the recordings. Barbara had also taken a break. She just stared at the ceiling, questioning herself. She was cursing herself. How hadn't she noticed before? How hadn't she done anything? They had practically betrayed Tim. And she wasn't even sure they had time to make up for it; all she wanted to do was find B and beat the living hell out of him. But she couldn't do that, so she showed the recordings to the people who could. And he was going to distract the donkey (author's note: I may use my own country idioms sometimes, sorry. You can also understand it as beating until the bitch comes out. I used the second part in the sense of prolonging that beating even more😅😅). What he questioned the most was how Alfred or Dick didn't notice the boom and how they allowed it.

Cass looked at the screen. Cass was completely focused on the screen, her body tense like a spring. When she got a message on her phone, she took her eyes off Cass and looked at her phone screen. The message was from Dick.

D-?!? I saw the message that Dami and I just got home. Did I know what? What's going on Barbara?

B-just watch it. And when you're done, let me know, the only people watching this right now are me and Jason. Cass is watching it right now. Don't let Damian watch it. And make sure Alfred isn't there when she's watching it.

B-ok. But I'm not sure I can keep Dami away from this

B-just suggest she doesn't watch it

She wrote and closed the screen. Cass looked extremely angry, but she didn't take her eyes off the screen. No matter how bad what she was seeing was, she wanted to make sure she saw everything for her sister. Well, it wasn't that Barbara didn't agree with her. She had thought the same thing while watching it herself. It would probably be the reason for her nightmares for a long time, but she was sure she saw everything.

When she was done, Cass pulled out her phone. She was dangerously calm. She called someone It took a while for the call to be answered. The other party asked "Is little brother okay?" Jason said "Oh Cass. It seems Babs showed you everything. Yes, he's fine, he's sleeping in my spare room right now. We just got back from the clinic, I made sure he ate and then I convinced him to stay at my house for the day." Cass was relieved and asked "Doctor." Jason told him what Leslie had said. Barbara was listening from the side. Barbara said "How could Bruce be so blind?" she said angrily. Jason said "I don't know. But I'll find out and when I find out I'll kill him." Cass said "No" harshly. Barbara and Jason asked at the same time "What? When I say no." Cass said "We can't kill." Just as Jason was about to object, he added "Killing wouldn't be painful enough."

***

Dick had had a long night, he had worked overtime all night, and when he got home he found Dami waiting for him. Titus was sick and needed to be taken to the vet. When the two of them went to the vet, it was noon. They were sleepy and all Dick wanted was to sleep with his little brother. But his plan was ruined when he saw the messages on his phone. At first he wanted to deal with it after he woke up, but Barbara's reproachful message attached to the videos had ruined all his sleep. He really wanted to know what had happened again. When he called Barbara, the answer he got only made him more confused. Finally he went to his room and logged on to the computer. "Baby bat, you heard what Babs said," he began to Damian, who was standing behind him and looking at the screen. But Damian said firmly, "I'll watch it."

Prew:

[celmian]

"Cooking for Alfred" Damian Wayne x OC's short fanfic.

/Adult Damian (University)

/warnings/ Dirty joke, (18+) language/

Hi, first of all this is just one of the part of the main fanfic I have been written. The oc is now dating Damian and she wants to cook for Alfred on his birthday. You can follow-up the main story in AO3. The fanfic is called 'Damian Wayne x OC : Hunting the witch'. English is not my first languages so, I hope I didn’t mess up anything.

Also, the oc name is Celine Constantine. She is John Constantine's daughter. Hope you enjoy.

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“…Celine, didn’t you used to tell me that you know how to cook?”    “Well, cooking is not baking...”    A picture of two teenagers approaching adulthood walking chaotically in the kitchen… Around the counter island there was powder and the egg panels all over were probably a strange sight that happened in Wayne Manor…a sight that Alfred Pennyworth would not have allowed to happen in normal situations because he wouldn't have to bother cleaning up the mess later. 

...but today is Alfred's birthday. 

  So Celine has a crazy idea. As a resident, she wanted to give him a surprise. So, they have Bruce take the old man into town while the two young men,Celine and Damian, prepare a homemade birthday cake for the butler. The witch Constantine claims to have worked behind the stove at Fine Dining restaurant before...Damian doesn't know in which position. But from the looks of it, she isn't a dessert chef definitely... 

“...Okay, I'm just one of those people who helps prepare the cold kitchen where they serve appetizers and such...but back when I'm in London, I always cook for myself. I just never made dessert. That’s all.” The girl immediately defended her cooking skills. “The pasta with grilled vegetables that you ate the other day was made by me...” With that, both of her hands are now placed on the hips..    “Really?”    Damian Wayne had known that his girlfriend liked to help Alfred prepare food…but he thought she might just be chopping vegetables, preparing meats, whatever like that. Instead of making her own menu like she claimed. 

…The other day, the pasta that Damian packed to eat at university for lunch was so delicious that he asked Alfred to make it a daily menu. The old man smiled suspiciously. It wasn't him who made it, but it was the witch. 

“…Shall we make pasta instead then?” the young man suggested as his head recalled the rich flavor of the fresh pasta and grilled mushrooms, he had eaten the day before…    “It's Alfred's birthday, Damian. We must make a cake...”  

“But the others will come here soon…we have to prepare other kind of food anyway. Why don't you go take care of the savory and leave me here with the cake?” Both Richard Starfire, Raven the witch, and Stephanie Brown...including Tim Drake will be here today for the old man’s birthday. So, if they both waste time on one cake, they won't get anything done into pieces. The young man waved his hand and chased his girlfriend away from his dessert making area, earning a look of pouty face from Celine Constantine. 

"..You? Are you sure you know how to bake?" The girl looked at her boyfriend's face judgmentally... 

“Better than you do.” His hand moved towards the first cake that had been baked, which was so crumbly and incomplete that the whole thing had to be thrown into the trash… Only then the black-haired witch calms down and walked away to do her own duties as well... 

A long time had passed and the whole kitchen was quiet…no sound except the sound of boiling water, the sound of beating eggs, and other sounds of cooking. Celine walked back around to find her boyfriend in the dessert kitchen area, which was also quiet. She saw him in an apron Standing and squeezing cream into a round disc of something. With diligence and expert look. The young girl watched as those slender, beautiful fingers gently put the round plates together. so, she couldn't help but tease him about how skilled he was. 

“You make macarons? Wow. I didn't know that I slept with the Master Chef of dessert every day.” ...This French dessert is so hard to make. Even Celine couldn't make it through just baking a cake...but this Baby Bat showed off his skills in making macarons? Why he’s so annoyingly talented? 

Damian didn't answer…he shook his head and wiped the sweat from his chin. That's when the young girl came to help. using the handkerchief that was placed on his shoulder to wipe away the sweat that was flowing down the small frame of his chin before smiling at the face's owner.    “..Does this mean that if we get married you will be the househusband? Hmm? Dami?” 

“Dream on.” Damian shook his head, expanding his words as he looked proudly at the work on the table. “...Housework is a duty that we must help on both sides. And I have to go to work…Father's company will soon be mine. If I only act as your butler, who will run the company? Hmm, Celine?” Those words weren't very serious... The young man kissed his girlfriend's head as a thank you for helping him wipe his face before walking off to explore the savory side..    “…You....You make a heck lot of pasta.” Deep voice hurriedly commented on the amount of fresh pasta that the young girl had prepared in a pot for the people coming to the party to eat.   “Well, don't you remember the last time Dick ate the entire pot of meatballs by himself?” Celine reminded the young man of Bruce's birthday back in the middle of the year when the eldest of the family accidentally ate a meatball that Alfred had made for everyone all by himself.  “You’re right. Richard must have eaten it all by himself.” Damian Wayne immediately agreed…he nodded before quickly helping his girlfriend clean up the kitchen. Prepare a plate for the guests who will be coming to the old butler's birthday dinner in a few hours. 

In the evening, Bruce, Alfred and Stephanie, who went to help Bruce, arrive at the manor with Damian, Dick, the two girls from Titans, and Tim Drake is waiting. Of course, Damian briefly relents with Tim to stop his eldest brother from eating all the food before the birthday owner arrives.    The old man walked into the house, filled with joy. Starfire and Raven were the ones who brought out the cake. The remaining people sang songs of blessing to the talented butler. Damian stood and applauded silently. Dick sings off-key and loses his voice as Stephanie tries to save the song from crisis but failed. And after Alfred blew out the candles, they all gathered around the grand dining table of the mansion that was full of guests today…    “..This pasta is very delicious. Miss Celine, did you do it yourself?” The old butler was happy… that today he didn't have to prepare huge quantities of food himself. But what will the condition of the kitchen be like? This is something to worry about.    “Yes.” Celine smiled as she proudly watched Richard gobble down her pasta from the pot… 

“...What about macarons? Did you make it yourself? It's just as delicious as the one my friend brought from France.” Tim tried to compliment the new girl in the Bat House that he hadn't talked to much before Damian put down his fork and a smile curled his lips. It was then that Red Robin knew exactly who the person that made this tray of macarons was. “Oh my gosh…”  Tim shook his head, his hand hurriedly put down the dessert… but after a while he reluctantly picked it up and ate it again.    “Wanna bet on who made the cake?” On Dick's side, his hand was still holding the fork around the pasta. Turning to Bruce, who had been eating quietly by himself for a long time… The Dark Knight shook his head. Looking at the large chocolate cake with candles that had been sliced ​​up by Raven and Starfire for the party. Those blue eyes looked at the cake for just a moment and then responded immediately. 

“It’s Damian, obviously.”    “But I think it’s Celine,” Dick quickly bets against…    “..Ahem, Master Bruce, Master Richard. Gambling is not a good behavior to do on this kind of celebration....”  The birthday man sitting next to Bruce couldn't help but cough after hearing that conversation… He took the cake from Starfire and held it in his hand before considering it without tasting it. “I think they both do it together.”    “Accept the bets” Nightwing gave the old man a challenging smile before turning and asking to the two young men who the winner of this bet would be… “Hey! Little D! Celine! Who made this cake?”    “It’s Damian.” …and the answer from the young witch made Alfred stunned because even though he was the one who taught Damian how to bake, he had no idea that the boy would be able to use what he had taught him to do it all by himself. Dick was annoyed but managed to get a smile from Bruce as the old butler and Nightwing took a cash from their pockets and paid the manor a bill each. 

…and soon after the cakes, pasta, macarons, and all sorts of food were eaten by the people in the house, most of whom was Dick, the guests gradually left. They left Alfred a gift. Stephanie left the baking equipment. Damian gives him a cookbook. Dick gives him a new suit. Raven and Starfire buy him a new portable oven. Bruce gave him gloves and a winter coat, but Celine unexpectedly gave the same book as her boyfriend… 

“Damn, I didn't know we were going to buy the same book... and it's the exact same one but in a different language,” the young witch complained about when Alfred has to have the exact same gifts but in difference language without nobody knowing it beforehand. “...And why are you buying a Chinese text cookbook? Shouldn't those things have to be transported by ship?” The two young men were cleaning up the house while Alfred was sent to sleep by Damian. Meanwhile, Bruce handles company work before leaving on late-night patrol. And Celine complains loudly about the gift she has just given the old butler. 

“...Chinese recipes should be read in Chinese. Do you think Pennyworth couldn’t read Mandarin?” Damian frowned at the witch's question. She usually likes to buy books about the same story but in different versions or sometimes in different languages. But today she suddenly complains to him about it… “You can't read Chinese? Can’t you?” So, the young man made this assumption.    …and damn, Damian Wayne really has good instincts for matters that don't matter. 

The girl rolled her eyes, and the young man knew immediately that she was complaining about the whole Mandarin language stuff because she couldn't read it herself…    “I swear to you. Damian…if you start speaking Chinese to me. I'm going to suck your dick until it's rotten-”    “-下流 (Xia Liu)” …and of course, the mouthy young man wasn't easily fazed by that threat. He chuckled before starting to spit Chinese at the other person after knowing that she wasn't good at it...well, he's always been like this...loves competition like a psychopath.    “坏蛋 (Huai Dan)” But then the black-haired witch immediately shot back… she put down the powder box she was holding and put it on the countertop with a look of trouble on her face amidst the young man's bewildered expression.    “..I thought you couldn't speak Chinese?”    “When did I say I couldn't speak Chinese? I just couldn't read it.”  Celine raised her eyebrows with a defiant expression on her face…    “Then from now on, I'll send you a text in Chinese-”    -wad!    And then the box of powder that had been put down in the first place flew towards Damian Wayne immediately as he continued to annoy her. The witch already knew that an ex-assassin like him would definitely be able to catch that thin cardboard box. So, she crossed her arms over her chest, as her boyfriend caught it with precision and looked towards her.    “Did you know…one of your bad habits is throwing things when you don't get what you want?” Damian had seen Celine throw a pillow or sometimes an entire cigarette box at her father...sometimes she had a good reason for doing that. Sometimes there is no reason at all. Celine Constantine was spoiled rotten by her irresponsible father. But she is a spoiled person who knows that she has a bad personality…so Damian can accept it in somewhat of of way.

Because he's like that too.    “..So? Do you want me to describe your bad habits too?” The girl folded her arms across her chest and raised her head to look at her boyfriend with another look of trouble. 

“Go on…” The young man looked at those expressions. He didn't feel annoyed. Instead, he slowly walked towards his lover... a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as his girlfriend smiled back and knew that he was definitely going to find something to get back at her... 

“Let's start with what? The size of your dick? I think it should be illegal-”  

“-Celine, we are talking about my bad personality, not what you like but denies that you don't like...” Damian, on the other hand, quickly used his strong hands to gather his girlfriend's mischievous body into an embrace...watching her laughing, pretending to run away but not getting anywhere.    “..So... What about your competitive personality? I swear, if I say I like a horse's cock, you will definitely going to lengthen it to compete with the hoarse-” 

Phew!!    ...and Celine's foul mouth made the arrogant boyfriend unable to bear it anymore. He took the box of powder in his hand that his girlfriend had thrown and dumped it on her head. He knew that Alfred would definitely curse him if he saw the kitchen floor right now. But believe him, it was very satisfying to see a person with a good mouth become silent because of the amount of flour stuck in her throat. She choked, the powders are now all over the sweet face attached to that bad mouth... 

But Celine Constantine wasn't the type to give in even in the most demanding situations… She turned and smeared the powder on her boyfriend's face. Smeared white powder on his perfect body. Damian is inferior. His hands scooped up the powders that had flown onto the counter and threw them all over his girlfriend's face, causing a small war in the kitchen. The one that ended up with Alfred walking in… The old man wanted to come get some water to quench his thirst after waking up late at night. Before coming to see his nightmare come true. Two young people threw cooking flour at each other. Rubbing each other's hair like it was a fun idea...Even Richard, at his most naughty age, had never done anything like this before...Then both young adults get warned by Alfred. Damian Wayne, who even used to be a child with a loudmouth that caused a lot of troubles, but he never caused any mischief like this before. So, he gets warned too. 

…but hey! At least this time Celine didn't start it.    Didn’t she?            “I got 1 point, and you got 0…” 

After fighting until they both were satisfied, the two young people came to take a dip in the water to clean themselves together after the war ended before Damian had to go on patrol with his father... Celine acts like a little kid who likes to play with a duck. She lets the plastic ducky float on the water in the tub. Damian was forced to watch her play with it while having his lover sit on his lap in the tub. 

“Why did I get 0 points when I really am the one who started it?” His thin lips gently kissed the shoulder of the person on his lap. His eyes looking at his wet girlfriend, he is frowning while asking...    "..It's easy because I'm the one giving the scores." Celine pinches her boyfriend's nose at the same time as squeezing the duck in her hand...it very well triggers a feeling of annoyance from her lover. A strong hand squeezed that round cheek, causing her to scrunch up until he had to let go before the two of them could continue their war in this bathroom.    “I think Pennyworth looks very happy… I have to thanks you for organizing this event for him today.” After pounding his girlfriend's face until he was satisfied, Damian Wayne hurriedly changed the conversation to the serious subject before Celine could react… Her expressions changed and nodded her head softly. Continue squeezing the duck in her hand instead of getting revenge on Damian... probably because she was thrilled that her idea made the old man smile this much. 

“...Come on, don’t act like you guys have never done this before…” Celine pouted a little while Damian's smile twitched slightly at the corners of his mouth before he looked away. 

“Actually… Normally we are all busy that no one takes the lead in this matter. Richard and Drake would just stop by for lunch on the day. Gave things to Pennyworth and left… We never got together like this. Until you are the one who suggested it.” ...It was probably the nature of Bat House to always forget the most important matters outside of their night duties… They often forgot the daily lives of those around them. It's something that almost every Bat member been.    “..So, I'm glad you chose to be a normal person and stay here with Pennyworth.” Ever since Celine Constantine entered the mansion, things had started to change a little… Even though she is that kind of person who don't celebrate her own birthday but she did it for others. After receiving Damian's first birthday present. She organizes a party for Bruce. And this time it was Alfred. She comes from the house of an occult detective but doesn't want to continue being the occult detective. Like she knew how lonely their careers were…she chose to be a normal person and spent her time doing things that Damian and the other Bats couldn't. Both are things that John Constantine couldn't do either. 

She chooses to spend time with those who she loves.    Celine gently touched her lover's face when she heard that. Her hand slid down his face before embracing it. 

“...Don't worry. Damian…Whatever you feel like you can't do or find it difficult to do. I will do it for you. You don't have to say or express everything to me. Just be with me, be happy…and I will do whatever you want to do for you.” A sweet voice whispered softly, kissing her boyfriend's forehead once...it was a voice that the young man felt calm after listening to. It felt like he didn't have to try so hard anymore…it felt natural. That would be more accurate to say... 

…Damian Wayne closed his eyes and immersed himself in that embrace for as long as he could. 

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P.s.: Damian in this fanfic became softer after dating Celine and she moved in his manor because she decides to study at Gotham's university. Her back story made her father doesn’t celebrated her birthday because John Constantine didn’t celebrate his own birthdays too. Hopefully I will post more of them in the future.

P.s.2 : Yes, She has a foul mouthed like her dad lol

[dyns33]

Flufftober 2024 - 4 Batman/Bruce Wayne

Either he was pretending to ignore her, or Bruce was totally focused on what he was doing, but Y/N had been staring at him for several minutes, like a cat concentrating on its prey, waiting for the right moment to pounce.

They had been friends for years, long before the tragic loss of his parents. They had been through a lot together.

Along with Alfred, Y/N was one of the few people Bruce trusted. He even confided in her things that he didn't share with his butler, to avoid receiving criticism full of concern.

Of course, she worried about him too. The Batman was doing good for the city, and maybe he was doing good for Bruce in his long grieving process, but there were many nights when she had trouble sleeping in the guest room, until he came home.

As if he knew, he always passed through the hallway, quickly tapping on the wall, so she knew he was there.

For once, the city seemed calm, or he was preparing something important, or he had finally understood that he needed to rest, but she had found him in the living room reading several documents on the large table.

She had sat on the other side with her cup, quickly looking at the newspaper that Alfred had left, and seeing the date, she had not been able to help but smile before staring at Bruce.

"What ?" he finally asked after more than ten minutes, without looking up at her.

"Do you know what day it is ?"

"Your birthday ?"

"Haha. It's almost Halloween."

"Ah. Yes, I know. The crime rate explodes that night."

"I'm not asking you what costume you're going to wear then."

Bruce kept a straight face as he met her gaze, but she knew he was trying to figure out if she was making fun of the Batman, or if she was accepting the fact that he would be too busy to celebrate this ridiculous holiday.

Since that tragic night, he had never done anything fun again.

The few times Y/N managed to get some of his time, it was obvious that he wasn't fully there, even when he smiled, a sad smile.

Even if she had wanted to, she couldn't have distracted him from his goal, so for Halloween ? Bruce was going to take advantage of the general atmosphere to go even more unnoticed in the crowd, and find the criminals.

"What if they have a Batman costume contest ? Would you enter ?"

"No."

"Could I enter ?"

"No."

"Can you say anything other than 'no' ?"

"Stop making fun of me quickly so I can refocus please."

"Pff, but it's not funny if you don't care."

He didn't care, and he even found her attempt quite amusing if she believed the smirk he tried to hide.

But his gaze remained eternally sad, while he returned his attention to his papers in silence.

"… I don't make fun of what you do, you know ? It's a good thing what you're trying to do."

"… Thanks." he murmured, lowering his head, unable to show emotion.

"On the other hand, I do make fun of your costume. You look pretty ridiculous with your ears and your cape."

"Okay."

"And your deep voice."

"I get it."

"And your goth makeup."

"I'm not listening to you anymore."

He was smiling, she was sure of it, as he walked off to his basement with a quick step, closing the door behind him so she couldn't follow and continued to list all the hilarious aspects of his costume. A small victory.

[where-dreamers-go]

“Kryptonite” Dick Grayson x Reader

(A/N: Okay, so it’s not a Jonathan Crane insert reader. Surprise?! ANYWAY, so here’s the thing: this summer I was watching Batman the series, the original from the 1960s AND finally went through the first season of Batman: Wayne Family Adventures. Gosh darn. Then I remembered this song from my youth. So this is a purely self-indulgent insert reader, silly songfic for my birthday. :D Warnings: None. Word Count: 1,092 words)

“There’s nothing good on,” you complained as you switched through the radio stations. For the third time. “I’d rather hear the weather at this point.”

“You can use your phone.” Dick suggested from behind the wheel.

The two of you were driving from a couple of errand stops. There wasn’t much else you had planned afterward. Wayne Manor was the next destination.

“I don’t want to blast the speakers though,” you looked to your friend, “we sing loud.”

“True.” A smile brightened his already happy features.

Slumping in the seat, you crossed your arms. “Too bad it’s too early for karaoke.”

“Says who?”

“The signs outside the buildings….and it’s the wrong day.”

He huffed.

“Oh well.”

“No, wait. Hold on,” Dick said, “we have a karaoke machine back home. I don’t know when it was used last. We can ask Alfred where it is. If we still have it.”

“Oooohh,” your hands hit a beat on your thighs in excitement. “I don’t care if I embarrass myself in front of Alfred. We’re doing this thing.”

“What’s embarrassing about singing?”

“Uh…,” you peered over to him. “Always with the big questions, aren’t you?”

. . .

Taking a short water break, you and Dick scrolled through more song options. There were more than the two of you anticipated. No complaints though. You two were having a blast.

“Oh. Oh. Hold on,” you barely held in a laugh. “I got it.”

Moving over, Dick let you scroll manually.

Going to songs starting with the letter ‘k’ was your next brilliant idea of the day. Something a little nostalgic.

An excited gasp came from beside you.

“Thoughts?” You asked.

“Let me grab my hoodie.” Dick said quickly and sped out of the room.

“…okay.” You smiled into the glass as you took another sip of water.

It was days like that when you found being good friends with Dick Grayson was full of surprises. Fun surprises, like spontaneous trips to an arcade. Odd surprises, such as Dick’s sometimes random excuses for needing to leave, not being able to show up, and peculiar shaped bruises. Not all surprises were good by default. That was a given.

What isn’t a surprise is him having that hoodie, you thought.

At the sound of running approaching, you prepared yourself for the personification of joy to return. Putting down the glass of water was all you needed to do.

“I’m back.”

“Welcome back,” you said and grabbed one of the microphones.

“And I’m super excited,” Dick bounded over to stand beside you. He picked up the other microphone and offered you a dimpled grin. The vibrant blue of his hoodie highlighted his eyes. His Superman hoodie with the hero’s symbol on the back, to be more precise. A perfect choice.

You selected the song and the music filled the room.

Perhaps it was a good thing that Alfred was elsewhere in the manor.

The two of you were already bobbing to the beat before the lyrics popped up.

Dick took the lead with the first verse.

“I took a walk around the world to ease my troubled mind. “I left my body laying somewhere in the sands of time. “But I watched the world float to the dark side of the moon. “I feel there is nothing I can do, yeah.” Dick sang and started tapping his foot. “I watched the world float to the dark side of the moon. “After all I knew it had to be something to do with you,” you sang, “I really don’t mind what happens now and then “As long as you’ll be my friend in the end.”

You both pointed at one another and sang.

“If I go crazy then will you still call me Superman? “If I’m alive and well, will you be there holding my hand?”

Dick grabbed your outstretched hand.

“I’ll keep you by my side with my superhuman might. “Kryptonite.”

Releasing your hand, Dick started a little dance that mainly looked like a weird sign for a moving train. He stopped.

“You called me strong, you called me weak, “But still your secrets I will keep.” He pointed for your turn.

“You took for granted all the times I never let you down. “You stumbled in and bumped your head. “If not for me then you would be dead. “I picked you up and put you back on solid ground.” You did a quick set of air drums before you sang together.

“If I go crazy then will you still call me Superman? “If I’m alive and well, will you be there holding my hand? “I’ll keep you by my side with my superhuman might. “Kryptonite.”

The two of you stood there bobbing your heads along. Feeling the song of all its memories it brought back.

You gestured for Dick to sing next.

Taking a step forward, Dick brought the mic to his lips. His voice was soft.

“If I go crazy then will you still call me Superman? “If I’m alive and well, will you be there holding my hand? “I’ll keep you by my side with my superhuman might. “Kryptonite.” He fell to his knees, “YEEAAH!”

Singing louder, you joined him singing.

“If I go crazy then will you still call me Superman? “If I’m alive and well, will you be there holding my hand? “I’ll keep you by my side with my superhuman might. “Kryptonite.”

You both did another round of air drums.

“Whoa whoa whooaa. “Whoa whoa whooaa. “Whoa whoa whooaa.”

The song faded out to a close and the two of you cheered.

Who said you couldn’t be both the performer and the audience? Probably someone. But it wasn’t going to be either of you.

“Ah,” you laughed. “The way you just,” you gestured to the floor, “on your knees. Yes. Mini concert.”

Beaming, Dick did a little bow.

“I thought birds were dying,” said a voice behind you.

Standing in the doorway was Jason Todd. Arms crossed and mildly amused.

“The only thing dying is the respect for your elders, son,” you quipped back.

“We’re not old,” Dick whispered.

Snorting, Jason turned to leave with a short wave.

“You don’t think we’re old, do you?” Dick asked, shoulders slumped.

“Nah.”

His shoulders relaxed to their regular position.

“But we do age finer than wine,” you added. “We’re vintage.”

Dick checked his watch. “Hey, vintage. You want to go with me and pick up Duke?”

“I’m going to embarrass him, aren’t I?”

He shook his head, “Why would you embarrass him?”

“Again with the big questions.”

~~~

(Reblog for a Part 2?

“Kryptonite” by 3 Doors down.

If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful. coffee

Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~~~

DreamerDragon Tags: @cubedtriangle

**Let me know if you would like to be tagged in insert readers, either through replies, ask, or message.**

[batfam-slash]

A little continuation of an earlier alpha/omega AU I did, in which Bruce dies and Jason must become the pack alpha until Damian comes of age.

*****

There’s a different atmosphere today when Jason enters the kitchen.

He can smell it in the air.

Dick and Tim are already sat at the table eating, talking quietly, but Jason can smell the nervousness radiating from the omegas. As if they’re not quite sure how today is going to go.

There’s a part of Jason that’s wondering that himself. It’s not that he doubts Damian or doesn’t trust him; he’s grown into a good alpha, but the kid can sometimes be unpredictable.

Jason can’t afford to show his nervousness though. He doesn’t want it to affect anyone else.

Thankfully Alfred is his usual calm self; he greets Jason with a good morning, sir and a cup of coffee, and the only thing part of his behaviour that reminds Jason this is not a normal morning is the overly reassuring smile Alfred gives him.

Jason thanks Alfred for the coffee and gives Dick a quick kiss and Tim an affectionate squeeze of the shoulder. He doesn’t sit down; he knows Damian will be here any second.

There’s a cake on the kitchen counter that says Happy 18th Birthday Damian in loopy icing, made by Dick under Alfred’s supervision. Jason wonders if they’ll even be in the mood to eat any of it.

Sure enough, Damian arrives only moments later.

Jason has to stop himself from almost laughing - in true Damian style, the younger alpha is dressed in his Robin uniform. Ready for battle.

“Good morning, Master Damian,” Alfred says smoothly. “Many happy returns.”

“Thank you, Pennyworth,” Damian says, but his eyes are fixed on Jason.

Damian’s hand goes to his utility belt, he widens his stance. He’s preparing for a challenge.

“I’m not going to challenge you,” Jason says immediately, keen to diffuse the situation quickly. “Your dad put me in charge of this pack until the day you came of age. That today is today. You’re ready to lead. You’ve grown into an alpha he would be proud of. So I defer to you.”

It’s never been an act he’s been fully comfortable with, but Jason feels the situation warrants it, so he kneels before the younger alpha. It feels odd, after Damian deferring to Jason for the last few years, but this is how it was always supposed to go.

He can see Damian relax; the younger alpha’s hand moves away from his utility belt.

“Thank you, Todd,” Damian says. “For caring for this pack until I was ready. My father would be proud of you too.”

And fuck, Jason wasn’t expecting that.

“You’re not gonna banish me then?” Jason laughs, almost choking back a happy sob. He’s not gonna fucking cry.

“You are pack,” Damian replies simply.

The younger alpha holds out his hand, and Jason takes it. He lets Damian pull him up so they can hug, and he lets the happiness show in his scent.

There was only a little part of him that thought he might be banished when Damian was in charge. After all, Damian was not very happy about Jason taking the role of pack alpha to begin with. And while Jason wouldn’t have cared whether the bats wanted him or not a few years ago, it’s a very different story now.

Jason glances at Dick, then back at Damian. “I guess I need to ask for your permission now-“

“You have it,” Damian says immediately. “You may remain my step-mother’s mate. You have brought him much happiness since my father’s death.”

Jason grins and shoots Dick a wink, who rolls his eyes fondly in response.

“And you should invite Kent round,” Damian says to Tim, “so I may give him my blessing. I’m sure he’s been worrying about this.”

And then all of them are descending on Damian, pulling him into a group hug with a chorus of happy birthday, Dami, because he may be the pack alpha now but they’ll always feel a fond protectiveness over him, their pup.

Alfred brings out the cake and they eat it for breakfast; Damian takes off his mask but stays in his uniform.

Jason feels like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

And for the first time since Bruce died, he truly does believe that everything’s gonna be alright.

[morganas-pendragons]

Long, Lonely December | Jason Todd

You find a love letter in the aftermath of Jason's death.

based off the song december - neck deep

I heard this and thought about 15 year old Jason Todd writing this at 3 am before leaving for Ethiopia and leaving it for the girl he loves but never told her, and this was born. It's short and bittersweet. Enjoy!

tag: @darth-vaders-bitch

***

His hands are covered in ink. Jason should be used to that by now, considering how much he likes to write and read. It's probably one of his favorite things to do in his spare time when he's not out in Gotham being Robin.

Then he'd met you, Dick's little sister, and you had occupied his mind ever since. Girls weren't supposed to do that. Girls weren't supposed to be so distracting.

But that's probably why he's sitting at his desk at three in the morning and writing this letter while the snow falls outside. He can feel the draft in the gap between the window and the window sill. His brain is telling him to get into bed under the warm, sherpa blanket Bruce had bought him for his birthday a few weeks ago.

Dear-

No. Too formal. He scribbles that out, moves to a new page.

Darling..

Better!

His hand is moving before he can stop himself, and Jason finds himself thrown into a memory he never saw himself remembering.

Galas. Jason hates galas. The only reason why he ever has to go to these anyway is because Bruce has to maintain his reputation, and as one of two children who still lives under his roof, his children have to help maintain his public image.

Bruce constantly repays them with promises of ice cream when they're over. The only benefit to them is that he gets to see you, Dick's younger sister, in a dress. You were the first person he met whenever he was brought to the Manor the first time and the only person he called his best friend. Bruce was Dad, and Alfred was Alfie.

Jason takes the role of best friend very seriously. He made the bracelets to prove it. It didn't take long to find out the 13 year old was good with his hands. His was the colors for Robin and yours was the color for Spectral with those stupid little letter beads that spelled out your superhero names.

"Jason," Bruce said as he rested a hand on his shoulder. "I believe those dance lessons can be put to good use. If you look closely.." His father's hand motions to the crowd where he can see you, bright eyed and beaming like you're right where you're supposed to be. "That is what someone who is happy to be here looks like. Go dance with her."

Jason remembers with striking detail how you looked that night because he had committed it to memory. Why wouldn't he? It was good to remember beautiful things when he had lived so much of his life without knowing what that meant.

He focused harder to remember the image. Makeup, but not too heavy, gold eyeshadow perfectly sharpening the famous Grayson blues that stared back at him.

The lace on your dress and how it felt under his hands. The way the two of you had just talked because it had become so easy to him, to just be able to be whenever he was with you. You also laughed at all his jokes. Annoyed the crap out of Bruce. All the things thirteen year olds were supposed to do!

I think I remember the first time I fell in love with you. Corny, I know. Me? The best Robin and the only one who fell in love? Typical. I should not such a sappy emotional person.

But then I learned my mom wasn't my mom and now I have to go away in the peak of Gotham's winter to meet my real mom. He underlines real several times for emphasis. All he knew was that her name was Sheila. So this is not my goodbye letter, it's my see you later letter.

Be prepared. It's a wild ride.

"What do you want from life, Jay?"

Jason narrowed his eyes and stuck out his tongue as you beam at him. You're just a few inches shorter then he is. Growth spurt hasn't quite hit him yet, but you believe that Jason will be seriously tall when you're both adults. "That's an adult question. Why don't you ask something easier, like what my favorite flavor of Monster is? You know... those drinks Bruce refuses to buy so I have to get them myself from the vending machine at school?"

You scrunch your nose. "You're evil."

"That's me!"

"I'd love to live in a place like this." You motion to the ballroom around you and the people within it. Jason was never built to live this kind of life. Living on the streets of Gotham had taught him to avoid people like this. The people who didn't care about people like him and his mom. "Dick and I have always been graceful, and our mother used to dance with our father alot when we were small." You pause and press your lips together as if you're trying to remember something that's not entirely there. "I want a ballroom floor, and the front door of the house to be the color of roses-"

"Because that's your favorite flower?"

You peer up at him in amazement that he even attempted to remember the little details you'd told him since you met. "Yeah." You said quietly, lifting your fingers that were linked at his neck to curl at the bottom of his hair. "That's why."

I hope you get your ballroom floor and that perfect house with the rose red doors, darling. You absolutely deserve them. Part of me wonders if that if this all goes wrong, and I do die out there, if you'll remember it. Remember me.

He takes that moment to look out the window as he flexes his aching hand. The snow is coming harder now. In the next room, you are curled under a mound of blankets and sleeping deeply without any awareness as to what's going on next door. That's good. That's right. That's how it should be.

I'm looking out our favorite window as I write this. You know, the one where we used to come up here when we were 13 and watch the storms and the sunsets in the Manor? It's the only place with this view, but I stopped calling it mine a long time ago. It's not mine. It's ours.

I wonder if I'll ever see Chicago or a sunset on the West Coast. I've never even left Gotham. I would love to see those someday. Never been one for traveling... but I think with Dickface and the Little Bird, I could warm up to it.

If this did go wrong.. will he die in the cold? Blue and alone with nothing to keep him safe but that newly fallen snow he keeps telling himself he loves?

It's been a long lonely december.

***

"He's gone, Spectral."

Those three words drastically change your life forever. What was once such a happy, joyful home became dark and mournful. You hated going home. Home wasn't home anymore when it was just you and Bruce.

Dick didn't come around much either. Only when you asked. He wasn't about to abandon his little Grayson.

It's after Jason is gone that you find yourself going into his room. It's the first time anyone has been in there since Bruce came back and told you, Dick and Alfred what had happened when he'd followed Jason to Switzerland in search of his real mother.

She'd sold him out and the Joker had brutally murdered him. There were barely any remains left.

Only a crowbar.

The only thing he had that Bruce could bring back was a red and green bracelet he never took off. You'd taken the bracelet back from Bruce without so much as a glance in his general direction and rubbed your fingers against the singed fabric.

"He was supposed to be my best friend."

A sharp, powerful sob works its way up the back of your throat as your eyes fall on his desk. There are papers strewn across the surface and black and red pens rubber banded atop a small stack of books, Pride and Prejudice sitting proudly despite the thin layer of dust that covered it.

That's when you notice it when you saw the clear black outline of your name across one of the envelopes from the Wayne stationary. You wet the tip of your thumb and rip it open to read it.

Tears drip onto the paper's surface before you can stop yourself.

Pain is never permanent but tonight it's killing me...

You had spent the days after Bruce had come home hidden away in your room. You didn't talk to Dick, you didn't talk to Bruce or Alfred. You didn't sleep. You didn't eat. Death wasn't something you were unfamiliar with as one of Batman's children, but never in a million years did you think it would be Jason.

"I hope you get your ballroom floor," You whisper. The memories all resurface as you continue reading his love letter that's not a love letter, but Jason had never been someone to spoke how he felt. Vulnerability wasn't his gift. Openness wasn't his gift. What was his gift was loving you just the right way you were. That was the best part of it all. You didn't have to change. "The perfect house with rose red doors.. I'm the last thing you remember." You cradle the paper to your chest and step up to the window.

It's snowing outside.

"It's been a long lonely december...."

[ragingbookdragon]

She was the wife of Bruce Wayne and the mother of many, wonderful children. Her role as the matriarch deemed her the protector of her loves’ hearts and the one who could end all arguments with a single word, soothing tempers with a cool head. She was the greatest woman they knew, the strongest and most courageous too—that being said she had an absolute mean streak when it came to pranking her family and she was gonna be damned if she didn’t keep it up.

***

She held the camera in one hand and smiled. “Good morning, Gotham and everyone else! It’s (Y/N) Wayne and I’ve decided to play another prank on my family.” She raised a bag of uncooked pasta noodles then turned the camera to show the Wayne butler. “Alfred’s been ever so kind to help me out with it.”

He took the camera and placed it in his breast pocket, a rather inconspicuous place that the family wouldn’t look at. “I live to serve, Missus (Y/N).”

Grinning, she looked at the camera. “The boys should be down in a few minutes and all I need to do is get Bruce to crack my back and we should be good to go.”

“Shall I turn the phone lines off, so your children do not attempt to phone the police?”

“Nah, don’t worry about that, Alfred.” Footsteps sounded from the hallway and she smiled, whispering, “Here we go!”

Alfred busied himself preparing the table as the others trailed in, taking their seats at the breakfast table. “Good morning young masters and mistress,” he greeted. “How did you sleep?” He received replies from everyone but Cass and Tim, one who nodded and the other who’d placed his head on the table and snored. “All is well then. I took the liberty to prepare waffles this morning.”

Dick perked up. “Waffles?” he glanced at (Y/N). “We only get waffles on special occasions.” His eyes widened and he turned to Jason. “What’s today?”

“I don’t know,” Jason retorted quietly, glancing at Bruce. “It’s not anyone’s birthday or anniversary.” He frowned. “Damian?”

“I am not sure.” He responded, eyes turning to Cass who shrugged with a confused expression.

“Boys, relax,” (Y/N) cooed. “I just asked Alfie to make waffles today.” They all sighed in relief and she giggled, pressing her cheek onto Bruce’s bicep. He leaned down and pressed his lips to the top of her head.

“Good morning, darling,” he murmured, and she smiled up at him.

“Good morning, love.” (Y/N) rose from the table and sent Alfred an inconspicuous wink as she headed for the coffee pot, pouring a cup before she set the mug on the island and groaned, rolling her shoulders.

“Mom?” Dick worried. “You alright?”

She nodded, bending down over the island and groaned, “My back and shoulders are killing me.” She slipped the noodles into her mouth. “Bruce, love, think you can crack my back for me?”

“Mhm.” He rose and walked behind her, waiting for her to cross her arms over her chest. Bruce wrapped his arms around her and lifted her, bending backwards as her spine popped.

CRACK!

(Y/N) let out a sharp gasp, going slack in his arms and the kitchen descended into chaos as all her children shouted, jumping out of their chairs, and even Bruce was panicking as he lowered her to the floor.

“MOM!” they shouted, crowding around her.

Her breathing shuddered as Bruce laid her on the floor and he took her hand. “Where are you hurt?” he asked, eyes serious and scanning her. For a moment she didn’t say anything, and he rested a hand on her cheek. “Darling, speak to me.”

(Y/N) sucked in a breath and cackled, rolling over onto her side as laughter racked her frame and her family stared at her like she’d gone insane. She rolled over and they saw tears in her eyes as she howled, “You should’ve seen your faces!”

Immediately her family started yelling again, this time anything but terrified and all she could do was keep laughing. Bruce frowned down at her. “That wasn’t funny, (Y/N) Wayne.” He admonished. “I thought I hurt you.”

She giggled and sat up. “Yeah, I saw.” Nudging him, she added, “And felt.”

He merely nodded at her and pulled her to her feet. “Just remember what goes around will come back around.”

“Pfft.” She waved off then took the camera from Alfred. “Thank you, Alfred.”

“Of course, Missus (Y/N).”

“SO THAT’S WHY WE’RE HAVING WAFFLES! IT’S SO WE’LL FORGIVE YOU FOR SCARING US HALF TO DEATH THAT DAD BROKE YOUR BACK!”

“To be honest, if your dad was going to break my back, it wouldn’t be like this.”

“OH MY GOD! YOU’RE DISGUSTING MA!”

“MOM THAT’S NASTY!”

“EWWWW! IT’S TOO EARLY FOR THAT!”

[woahajimes]

Have you ever wondered how Damian would handle an instagram account? 

For starters, Damian doesn’t even know he has an instagram account. It’s until Bruce answers a question at an interview that Damian finds out he has an instagram account. Bruce had created it for him, for god-knows-what reason. Yet Damian has to act like he has known all along, that he has an instagram account. 

Once Bruce gets him settled into a username that very literally is just Damian’s name as the son of the billionaire, Damian does absolutely nothing. He doesn’t follow anyone, he doesn’t post anything. He doesn’t even  have a profile picture. For all everyone knows, Bruce Wayne could have lied and that account is just some rando’s. 

And months pass, Damian’s account is the literal same every single day, and trust me, people have checked. Damian couldn’t actually care less about his instagram account, the only reason he hasn’t deleted the app completely is because he rarely even uses his phone. He just carries it around in his pocket when he’s out as Damian Wayne. 

It’s almost a year, and Damian is out with Dick, they’re getting lunch or something. Dick has ordered a burger, Damian stuck with a veggie option. And they’re about to start eating and Dick takes out his phone, snaps a picture. 

“What are you doing?” Damian asks him. 

Dick stares at Damian. “It’s for my instagram story.” And then he starts typing some caption or something. 

And even though I, op, don’t have younger brothers, I do have a younger sister and I can tell you that little siblings copy like, everything you do. And I know we’re talking about Damian, but still. Damian took his phone out and he snapped a picture, Dick in the shot as well. He posted it in his story, he didn’t put a caption. 

And then later that day, Damian remembered that he hadn’t saved that picture he took. So he opened the instagram app and he saw a little circle around his empty profile picture. He decided that he liked it. It went from purple to pink to orange to yellow to orange to pink and back to purple. 

So this became a routine of his, after all, it would cost him next to nothing. To take a picture and post it on his story. It would keep the little ring around his profile picture. And he’d get replies to his stories and he’d get tagged in pictures and he’d get thousands of followers and he’d get tagged in comments and new requests and all those things that famous accounts get. 

And it’s not like the pictures ever made sense. The first week they were things like the cover of his sketchbook, or this plant he found in the garden. Maybe it was the map on his wall, or alfred the cat and titus. He wouldn’t even take time with these pictures. He’d just remember every day about the little circle around his default profile picture and he’d grab his phone, and  he’d take a picture of the nearest thing he could find. He never bothered to write a caption, nor put a song, anything. 

And as time passes, the logic of the pictures becomes blurry. Why would the heir of the richest man in gotham post a picture of a crack on the pavement? 

But sometimes, people doubt that Damian even takes these pictures. Because sometimes they’re pictures of gotham at night, when the sky is pitch black, starless. And this one time, Damian is out on patrol, the sun is rising, he still hasn’t gone home. The sky reminds Damian of the little ring around his profile picture. So Damian sets his phone to record automatically and so it records towards the sunset. And because Damian would place himself against the light, the figure would look pitch black, a plain shadow against the sunset. So Damian sets his phone and he takes his cape off, he has his grappling hook, but he’ll use it once he’s out of the camera shot. And then he gets the video going (his phone is leaning on a plant pot, there’s another building that ends nearly as the camera shot begins. So Damian swings from where he set his phone, to the other building, and he just. 

Jumps. 

He’s jumping headfirst and he’s whooping loudly, laughing almost. He’s done this so many times yet something is just nicer. 

it was awesome. 

And he posts the video, but silences it. Nobody can see Damian’s uniform, nor his mask. For all they know, Damian hired someone to jump, or maybe he even threw a mannequin or something.  

That was the only video Damian posted on his story. The rest, every other day, theRE were just pictures. 

We skip time a bit more and Damian was with Jon, when he still lived in hamilton. They were by the tree they were always at, and Damian was taking a picture of the bark of the tree. Because bark. 

And Jon just stares at Damian. “What the h are you doing?” 

Damian shrugs. "Just taking a picture.”

Jon snatches the phone from him. They’re close enough friends. He goes to the camera and holds the phone up straight, he sets it to the front camera.

“My mom does this all the time,” he says. “She calls them selfies.” 

Jon snaps a picture. Then he checks it. He’s smiling, Damian is not. “You’re so lame! Did nobody ever teach you how to smile?” 

Jon snaps a second picture, Damian’s still not smiling. Third picture, Damian’s expression moves a bit, but it's just him rolling his eyes. 

“Come on, Damian! SMILE!” Jon takes another picture, he checks it. Damian’s smiling dramatically, he looks like Jon looks in family pictures he doesn’t want to take. He’s not smiling with his teeth, his eyes are practically closed, his nose is scrunched up. If anything, he looks more disgusted than happy. “Ugh, we’ll just try another day, i guess.” 

This became a sort of routine. Every day they saw each other as civilians, Jon would take a selfie with Damian. Sometimes he smiled, if he was in the right mood. It didn’t really matter, Damian never posted those pictures on his story. 

Now we take Damian’s fourteenth birthday. This, Damian decides, is a much better way to spend his birthday than the last one. Bruce isn’t there, but his brothers are, his best friends also are. Alfred and Jon, Dick, Tim, and Jason. They’re eating strawberry cake, with the ‘happy 14th!’ in pink frosting and everything. It is now his first option, thanks to Alfred.

Anyways, they’re slicing the cake, Damian just blew out the candles. Jon takes his phone out, the one he got when he turned eleven. He doesn’t have an instagram account, Lois wouldn’t let him, but Jon still takes a picture of everything. 

Alfred asks Damian for his phone, so he can take a picture. Damian shakes his head, yet he takes out his phone. He’s at the head of the table, he puts his phone on the front camera. He hands it to Alfred. 

“Jon likes to call them ‘selfies’,” Damian explained. He showed Alfred. “Here, you take them like this.” 

Damian took his phone back from Alfred, he stretched his arm with the phone. He called out Tim’s name, and all of them looked up. 

“Smile!” Damian snapped a picture, he grinned. He looked at the picture, he liked it. Alfred was grinning, like in that picture in which he’s with Bruce when he was little, and they’re both laughing at something.

Damian decided that this picture was too nice for it to go on his 24-hour ring. Besides, he had already put a picture of Jason helping prepare the frosting. He didn't need two stories in the same day. 

So he drafts the post, and there’s the option to edit the image, but Damian skips it. It’s nice as it is.

He posts it, he doesn’t write a caption.

taglist: @hauntingsonofrobin @bikoncon @catxsnow @screennamealreadyused @thesporklecat @thesesickfics-justmakemesick andd i think i got it all idk 

[mochegato]

Even the Losers

Chapter 15

Chapter 1     Chapter 14

Possible trigger warning.  I mention that sexual assault and worse has happened during some akuma attacks.  I don’t describe anything or say who it happened to (it didn’t happen to anyone we know) but wanted to warn readers that it is brought up.

This room really was a ridiculous room, Marinette decided.  The dining table was large enough to seat twenty.  Who needed a casual dining table that large?  Honestly.  Not to mention, a dining table that large meant there was more than enough room for Alfred to join them, but he never did.

And bringing the food out on silver trays. Did they do that just because she was here?  She kind of hoped it was because the idea of doing it everyday…  She looked over to Adrien to roll her eyes at the opulence, but he just went with it like it was completely expected.  Marinette shook her head.  Damn rich people.  She looked up just in time to catch Duke’s eyes.  He looked at the silver trays with a pointed look and rolled his eyes. Marinette giggled and nodded back.

“I forgot to ask the other day,” Dick started with a disarming smile.  “How did you two meet and when?”

And there it was again.  A perfectly normal question.  A very common question.  A question they would expect to be asked.  But there was something off in the way he asked it.  Something that just triggered her senses.  She could feel a difference in it, like its very existence disrupted the peace of the dinner.

Adrien looked over at her with a broad smile and nodded to her, letting her know she was supposed to answer it.  She plastered on a friendly smile.  “We met in school, actually.”

“Oh? Maternelle or older?”  Dick smiled again, his face perfectly emulating interest in his sister’s friend.  Markov would never be able to tell the difference.  But Marinette could.  He was fishing.  She just didn’t know what he was fishing for.

“Older,” she answered curtly.

Dick seemed to get the message that she was not happy and backed off, metaphorically and literally, leaning away from them in his chair.  His smooth smile morphed into a mock frown.  “Oh that’s a shame.  I was hoping for stories or pictures of baby Marinette.”

“Oh, baby Mari was adorable,” Adrien gushed, with a teasing grin to Marinette.

Tim quirked his head to the side.  “I thought you said you two didn’t meet until you were older.”

Adrien’s grin widened.  “We didn’t.  Not until we were in collège and she yelled at me for something I didn’t do.”

“I didn’t yell at you,” Marinette objected in mock offense, slapping his arm. “I informed you that you were a contemptible dirtbag in a harsh tone.”

Jason barked a laugh.  “Right, big difference.”

Marinette whirled on him, her serious expression contradicted by her lips trying to quirk up at the corners at his teasing.  “There is!  It was a quietly harsh tone.  There was no yelling.”  She turned back to Adrien.  “And I apologized for that.”

“Yeah, like years later and not because you wanted to,” he rolled his eyes.

“Only because I couldn’t really talk to you for, like, ever after that,” she groused playfully.  She pushed her food around on her plate with a pout.

“Apologies are hard,” Cass nodded in agreement.

Marinette beamed at her.  “Yes.  Thank you, Cass.  See,” she motioned to Cass so Adrien would look, “Cass has my back.  She agrees.”

“With what?” Duke laughed.

“Your input is not needed!” Marinette chastised him, trying hard not to laugh.  But when Duke cracked up and started laughing hard enough to have him gasping for breath, so did Marinette.

“Okay but…” Tim started after they’d had enough time to recover.

“Oh, right!” Adrien shook his head.  “There was an akuma that de-aged people.  A mom sad her son was going off to university, so her power was to turn everyone into toddlers again.  Marinette got hit pushing me out of the way of the beam. She turned into the cutest, pudgiest, little toddler you’ve ever seen.”  

Marinette batted his hands away when he leaned over to pinch her cheeks.  He chuckled at Marinette’s pout.  “I hated that one.  I felt so helpless,” she moaned.

“I loved it,” Adrien smiled.  “I got to see all of you guys as babies.  Most of you guys knew each other since childhood so you knew what each other looked like.  Alya and I were the odd ones out.  Plus, no pain.”  He looked back to the rest of the family.  “That was rare; an akuma that didn’t cause massive amounts of pain or trauma.”

“Were they that bad?” Duke asked hesitantly, afraid of the answer he was going to get back.  He had purposefully not looked too hard into akumas precisely because he was afraid of the answer.

Marinette stared intently at her plate in thought, trying to condense the experience into light, dinner topic worthy descriptions because she desperately did not want to discuss akumas tonight… or ever again. The very thought caused shivers down her spine.  “They were… most weren’t… didn’t affect…”  Her words got cut off as her body froze with realization.  Her face scrunched up in pain and she gasped after not having breathed for the last few seconds.  She suddenly pushed away from the table and stood up.  “I think… I need to leave.”

Bruce stood up at the same time and reached out for her. “Marinette are you okay?”  His concern amped up when Cass stood up as well and frowned with concern.

Adrien got to her quicker, gently laying his hands on her arms.  “Hey, we don’t have to talk about it.  We can talk about something else.  You talked with M. Fox this morning, right?  We can talk about that.”

Marinette shook her head.  “I can’t…” she couldn’t finish her sentence, her breath was becoming more ragged the longer she stood there.

“Way to go, Timmy,” Jason groused.

“I didn’t do this!” Tim objected motioning toward Marinette and standing up too.  He wasn’t exactly sure what standing up was supposed to accomplish. She didn’t know him and definitely wouldn’t be comfortable with him trying to comfort her.  It was more of a show of support.  Whatever was going on, he didn’t want to stay sitting like it was nothing.

She looked toward Bruce, her eyes slightly glazed over.  “You… you knew.  You knew about what happened when I was fourteen… and fifteen… and sixteen.  You said you checked in on me frequently, so there’s no way you didn’t know.  You knew and you just… rather than admit I was…”  She looked down at the floor, her face scrunching further as she tried to reconcile the new information.  She backed away more and shook her head, no longer really hearing anything in the room, including Adrien’s loud gasp of realization.  “I… I can’t… be here.  I have to… I need time to…”  

She turned and rushed through the door before anyone could stop her.  She could feel herself shutting down and she needed to stop it.  She knew she needed to stop letting herself turn numb.  She gritted her teeth as her frustration with herself increased.  Why couldn’t she just react normally?  Nobody else on her team did this.  None of their friends reacted this way anymore.  What was wrong with her that she did?

And she had to do it there, in front of everyone. She had to do it in front of him.  Why couldn’t she hold it together for one freaking dinner?  She’s gone through worse.  Why couldn’t she just have DEALT with it, like an adult?  Now she probably ruined the start of their relationship. He was probably going to hate her. He didn’t want to know about that stuff. He didn’t want to deal with those kinds of problems.  Those were her issues, not his.  

He wanted a daughter for the press, not a hot mess of insecurities and anxiety.  He wanted a happy, light, cheery child.  That’s why he sent her away, so that’s who she would become.  That’s probably why Dick was trying to ask all those questions, so they could know just what kind of a broken, messed up, embarrassment of a disaster they were taking on with her.  They needed to know what to prepare for when the press started getting involved.

Back in the dining room, Jason had gone from laughing, to confused, to concerned, to fucking pissed in a matter of seconds.  “What did she go through?” Jason asked through gritted teeth.

Adrien glared at Bruce waiting for him to answer the question.  Bruce looked down dejectedly and Adrien scoffed.  He didn’t bother ripping his glare away from Bruce when he answered for him. “She means Hawkmoth.  She means M. Wayne knew what Hawkmoth was doing and let her stay there when he could have pulled her out at any time.  She means he let her stay and get tormented rather than admit she was his daughter.”

“That is not why I didn’t pull her out of Paris,” Bruce insisted weakly.

“I thought the damage done by Hawkmoth was all reversed,” Duke offered.

“Oh, the physical damage was reversed, but the psychological wasn’t.  The memories weren’t.  Hawkmoth used people’s negative emotions to turn them into monsters, AS YOU KNOW,” he snarled at Bruce.  “For years, if you had a bad day, if you got sad, if you grieved, you could end up killing or torturing or raping someone, maybe someone you cared about, maybe someone you loved, maybe more than one.  

“Didn’t even have to be something big it could just be… my best friend got akumatized because my father said he couldn’t throw me a party for my birthday.  A kid Marinette babysat got akumatized because her mother took away a toy that wasn’t hers, it was Marinette’s actually, so she felt responsible for getting Manon akumatized.  Marinette’s best friends, five of them at once, got akumatized because she didn’t want to tell them something private.  Like that didn’t wrack her with guilt for years.  It didn’t take much to turn you into a nightmare.  In fact, one little kid got akumatized several times because he had a nightmare.  All it took was one moment of feeling down.  If you were lucky, really lucky, you just… stopped feeling… anything.”

Everyone was silent for a few minutes.  Adrien’s glare never wavered the entire time. Finally Dick spoke up softly. “And was Marinette… lucky.”

Adrien sneered at Bruce, “Oh, Marinette was very lucky.  She only got tortured a few times… per month.  She only lost a few limbs.  She only got targeted most of the time.  She only died four or five times, that she remembers, the actual number is significantly higher.  All despite my father targeting her specifically.  You know, nothing worth too much concern. She only watched the people she loved get tortured, screaming for her in agony before they died painful deaths a handful of times.  She only sometimes still goes completely numb rather than feel things.  Not even just bad things, good things too.  If it’s too much, she shuts down so she doesn’t expose herself, so Hawkmoth can’t get her, because we needed her.  It’s automatic.  It’s subconscious.  It’s been five years and she still has to fight the instant reaction.”  

Bruce finally spoke up apprehensively.  God, he really, really didn’t want to know the answer to his next question, but at the same time, he needed to know.  “You mentioned akumas could kill, torture, rape… You said Marinette had been tortured and killed.  Was she ever…”

Adrien’s face scrunched up in anger and frustration. “You don’t get to ask that,” he screamed.  “You didn’t care then, you don’t get to pretend like you care now.  You want an answer to your question, you’ll have to ask her yourself, if you have the balls for it.  Personally, I don’t think you do.  So use your imagination.  I guarantee anything you can imagine, can’t even come close to the things she had to live through.”

He looked down for a moment to try to collect himself.  When he looked back up it was an icy, coldness that made Tim collapse back into his chair.  “So now you need to stop lying to her that you always loved her, you cared at all.”

Damian growled and lunged forward in his chair. “You can’t tell him what he feels. You don’t get to say how he treats one of his children.  You aren’t a part of this family.”

Adrien turned his icy glare to Damian.  “And she is?  Holding her at arm’s length?  Keeping her at a distance?  Not letting her get too close?  Randomly freezing up around her.  Keeping family secrets from her.  Clamming up as soon as she’s nearby.  Sending each other secret looks over her head when you think she won’t see.  She’s not stupid.  She sees what you’re doing, what you’re all doing, she’s just too nice to point it out, too hopeful you’ll actually accept her one day.”  He turned to look at Damian with disgust.  “I might not be a part of this thing you call a family, but I am a part of hers.”  Damian only put up a semblance of a fight when Cass pulled him back down into his chair with a disappointed look.

“You kept in contact to make yourself feel better not because you cared.  Because if you did?  If you did, there’s no way you let her stay in Paris when it would have been so easy for you to do something.  There’s no way you let her get hurt and killed over and over again just so you didn’t have to admit you were related to her.  Nobody who gives even the slightest fuck about anybody, a stranger let alone family, your child, would willingly let them go through that.  Lets them live knowing that crying about a stubbed toe could make them into a killer.

“You could have done something, anything and yet you did nothing.  You didn’t even try.  She wouldn’t have accepted.  She… she was the only reason some of us survived and she knew that.  She was our hope.  She saved us and protected us.  Repeatedly. At her own expense.  Without her…” he looked away.  When he spoke again, his voice was considerably quieter and colder.

“And she knew it.  And she took it all on herself.  She didn’t even tell most people, anyone but me and one other friend really, what she went through and not even all of it.  There’s still things I know she saw but she won’t tell me about. Her own parents didn’t know because she didn’t want them to become akumas, which they’d done before over minor things.  So she dealt with it on her own.  My father barely ever let me out so I couldn’t be there for her almost ever. So she had nobody.  She made sure she didn’t.  Because she didn’t want to be the cause of more suffering.

“So she wouldn’t have taken you up on any offers anyway because she’d never abandon the people she cares about.”  He looked back up to level Bruce with an icy glare that made him lose his breath.  “Guess she gets that from her mother.”

He started to walk away but turned back to the family as he got to the door.  “You know, Marinette and I are a lot alike.  You can do anything you want to us and we’ll probably apologize to you for inconveniencing you.  But you hurt someone we care about?  Not even Hell is far enough away for you to hide in.

“So she’ll forgive you.  That’s who she is.  She will.  Hell, she’ll probably come crawling back in a day or two to apologize to you for the scene she created.  For making you feel uncomfortable.  But I won’t ever forget what you did, what you didn’t do, what you subjected her to. No matter what else you ever do for her, you will not be forgiven.” He stepped closer to Bruce, the ice in his eyes turning darker.  “And if you ever treat her like that again, they’ll never find your body.”

Damian scowled and jumped up.  “Are you threatening my father?”

Adrien didn’t look at him when he responded, continuing to glare at Bruce with a dark, warped look that even made Damian raise an eyebrow.  “I am.” He didn’t even bother slamming the door as he stormed out.  As soon as he passed the threshold, he took off sprinting after Marinette.  She didn’t have the car keys so she was walking… in Gotham… while she was a target.  He cursed and picked up his speed to get to the car.

“B?” Dick asked cautiously.

“No.  No, no, no.” He shook his head violently and looked down, trying to steady his ragged breathing.  “I asked her parents.  I checked. They said she was fine.  They said it was okay.”  He looked up at Dick with haunted eyes.  “I checked.  I made sure.”

“Well you didn’t fucking check well enough did you?” Jason growled.  “You never asked her.”  He threw his napkin on the table and stalked out after Adrien to help comfort Marinette.  Duke looked between them for a moment before sprinting after Jason.

The rest of the family looked down at their plates, except Bruce who wasn’t looking at anything.  He pushed away from the table and stumbled back to his room, a sudden wave of nausea slamming into his body.  Dick opened his mouth a few times only to snap it shut again mutely.  Cass frowned but continued eating slowly. This was new information, but it didn’t change who Marinette was to her.  It was the same Marinette from earlier in the day.  But now she knew more.  Maybe they could bond over childhood trauma like she and Stephanie had.

Damian furrowed his brow and scowled at his food, unable to determine how to interpret the new information and blame Marinette for it. She had done it to herself, clearly. She had allowed herself to stay in that situation.  Obviously it was her own fault she suffered through that… like he had.  Not knowing who to be mad at, he shoved away from the table and went down to the cave to train.

Tim blankly watched him go.  This… this was unsalvageable.  This was… they’d let her down in so many ways.  Him with the gala.  Dick with the questioning Adrien.  Damian with the accusing her and insulting Adrien.  The entire family with the keeping secrets.  And Bruce with the… everything.  How were they supposed to bring this back?  They were worse than his family, his previous family.  The Drakes just ignored him.  They were actively destroying her.  

He took a deep breath and pushed away from the table too.  He would go down to the cave but Damian was already there.  He wanted to patrol, to actually protect someone, like he hadn’t protected her.  He stood up and made his way to the grandfather clock.  Fuck Demon Spawn.  Let him try to fight him right now.  Tim wasn’t in the mood and wouldn’t hold back.  Heaven help any rogues out tonight.

Chapter 16

Tags:

@maribat-bdbwm @jayjayspixiepop @redscarlet95 @alice-hazelwood @deathssilentapproach-blog @unoriginalmess @alyssadeliv @emotionalsupportginger @frieddonutsweets @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @toodaloo-kangaroo @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @iloontjeboontje @wolf-for-life @maribatserver @aespades @prettylittlebutterflie @imarivers8  @ certainmuffinbagelcalzone @ritacrow-blog @unoriginalmess @demonicbusiness @kking13 @lady-bee-fechin @blur-of-colours @kittenmywaythrulife @kashlyn @loysydark

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

In Times Past

Character: Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Summary: Bruce Wayne’s life doesn’t exist beyond the fake storylines he performs for the media and citizens of Gotham. Maybe the only person that can change that is someone who knew him before Batman ever even existed. 

Word Count: 8,200+ [One Shot]

Warnings: Violence, mentions of sexual harrassment

A/N: As I teased before, this was inspired by this scene from Batman Begins. 

Bruce could sense Alfred’s tension when he walked into the kitchen that morning. The man was not one to hold back his thoughts and feelings. It was both a blessing and a curse. But Bruce sensed it was the latter today.

Before Bruce could even get a sip of coffee in, Alfred tossed the Sunday newspaper in front of him.

On the front page was a photo of Batman, far too high of a resolution for Bruce’s liking. ‘BATMAN: SAVIOR OR MENACE?’ the headline read.

“A little too close for comfort, don’t you think?” Alfred asked with a hint of sass.

However, Bruce controlled his reaction.

“Not the first time I’ve been photographed, Alfred.”

“You’re dancing with the devil, Master Wayne.”

“So, what? You want me to lay down the cape because everyone in America has the ability to take a photo on their cellphone?”

“Of course not,” Alfred retorted. Though Alfred secretly wished every day that Bruce would say goodbye to the Batman. “I just thought perhaps you should be putting a bit more effort into Bruce Wayne’s life if you really want to throw Gotham off your trail.”

Then he tossed another newspaper. This one of Bruce Wayne, the other mask he wore.

‘Bruce Wayne Lights Up the Room at Charity Ball.’

Alfred points to the date…it was 9 months ago. And it was unfortunately the last time Bruce Wayne was in the press.

“You better start creating alibis, Master Wayne, or the dark web will start to putting two and two together…”

Bruce sighed. He knew Alfred was right. But he hated all that went with what he had to do. He’d rather face off with Gotham’s deadliest criminals than go galavanting around the city as the self-absorbed and reckless playboy persona that he’d created.

“There is a birthday party for Eaton Elliot next weekend. Naturally, being old family friends, you received an invitation,” Alfred explained. “Plenty of press will be there to note your attendance. Seems rather convenient."

Bruce recognized the name. It was the older brother of Thomas Elliot, a childhood friend that he slightly lost touch with. He’d see him or his parents at various events, and things were always cordial.

But it didn’t really matter how absent or quiet Bruce was when it came to maintaining such relationships. Everyone forgave such behavior when it came to saving face with the only living member of the Wayne family. Bruce could spit in the faces of Gotham’s elite and they’d probably thank him for it.

“Black tie affair, as always,” Alfred added as he slipped the invitation to Bruce. “Perhaps you could bring a date…”

Bruce glared up at the butler. “Dates make it harder to make a quick and quiet exit, Alfred.”

“Well, maybe that’s the point, Master Wayne.”

————

Just like he was on patrol or working on an op, Bruce had prepared for every single scenario. He made a plan that would be the most effective in the shortest amount of time. He didn’t want to torture himself any longer than absolutely necessary.

When Alfred asked him again if he was planning on bringing a date, Bruce had only replied with a mischievous smirk.

Because he walked in with a girl on each arm.

It wasn’t the classy or gentlemanly thing to do. And that was exactly the point.

Conversations paused, attention was turned, and flashes went off.

Bruce Wayne made his entrance.

He carefully fell into the groove of being the spoiled brat everyone had painted him out to be. It had been awhile since he played the part, but Bruce always found it easy when he was surrounded by these kinds of people.

Bruce made sure to slightly slur his words. He would get too handsy with his dates. He would rudely interrupt people to share his own useless opinion on whatever topic was leading the conversation. He never looked waitstaff in the eye.

But now it was time for the finale.

Bruce whispered a certain suggestion into the ears of his dates.

They shared a look that proved they were both game.

The three of them stumbled into a bathroom – one out in the open that most of the guests would be steered toward.

The kissing began and clothes were quickly shifted.

There was a split moment when Bruce wondered what this would feel like for a man who actually wanted to be in this situation.

The two woman managed unbuckle his belt, the clanking metal echoing in the all-tile bathroom.

But just as they unbuttoned and then unzipped his pants, Bruce’s cellphone rang loudly.

Right on cue.

“Ladies, ladies, ladies,” Bruce whined. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” his words stumbled out. “But I just have to take this call.”

“Aww. Brucie. You’re no fun,” one of the women fussed.

But Bruce gave off enough dominate energy that they didn’t try to fight him on it.

Hair disheveled, mouth swollen and pink, lipstick stains on his skin and his pants and belt barely put back together, Bruce stumbled out of the bathroom first.

The two women didn’t bother to stay back and spread out their exits, making it very clear what had just happened – or what it looked like just happened.

It didn’t matter that Bruce didn’t actually have sex with them, every woman in Gotham wanted to say they’d shared a bed with Bruce Wayne. His two dates would lie to save face and get street cred. Bruce hated that he knew that, that it was guaranteed.

Dozens of people, who were socializing near the bathroom, stopped what they were doing and watched with judgmental looks. Some men looked jealous. Some women looked disgusted and eyed the two women up and down.

Then there was the flash of a camera.

Bingo.

Bruce wouldn’t have to linger much longer now.  

He played up being somewhat embarrassed.

But just as he put his phone to his ear to take the fake call that Alfred dialed, he saw the last person he expected.

It caused him to do a double take and freeze. 

His focus fell for a moment as they made eye contact.

Why did she have to be here?

Why did she have to be one of his witnesses?

Why did it hurt so much to see how she looked at him as if he were a stranger?

And why did she have to look so god damn beautiful?

Y/F/N Y/L/N.

The Y/L/N family were another one of Gotham’s elite – well, they used to be.

Y/N’s father was once worth billions. But being born into wealth didn’t guarantee intelligence or the skills to properly run the family business. When Bruce and Y/N were in high school, Y/N’s father filed for bankruptcy and confessed that the family was about to lose everything. With the announcement, the press also exposed Mr. Y/L/N’s many lustful affairs.

What came next was a messy and brutal divorce that the media ate up.  

Out of spite, Y/N’s mother remarried her ex-husband’s biggest competitor, maintaining her status and wealth, and making sure she still came out on top. It was the greatest revenge and even Y/N had to give her mother credit for the ingenuity of it all.

Bruce remembered how terrible it all was for Y/N, who was used as a pawn in her parents war against each other.

Having had enough of it, Y/N fled Gotham and chose to live with her eccentric great aunt in London and finished her last year of high school there.

But Y/N didn’t run away from Bruce. They emailed, texted, video chatted, called.

They had always been good friends.

The elites of Gotham always suspected the two would get married. But both Bruce and Y/N pretended to ignore such whisperings.

But when Bruce shifted his life, when he changed his life’s purpose, when he started becoming a vigilante…he stopped taking Y/N’s calls and he stopped returning them.

He told himself it was better that way. He couldn’t handle any distractions. Batman didn’t have time for personal relationships, so neither did Bruce Wayne. But more importantly, Y/N deserved someone who would prioritize her – even just as a friend.

Now Bruce needed to get actually drunk.

Putting the phone back to his ear, he broke eye contact and made a beeline for one of the bars. 

“Did you forget to tell me about the guest list, Alfred?” Bruce muttered evenly to the phone, knowing that Alfred would easily be able to hear his anger and irritation.

“How was I to know who RSVPed yes or no…” Alfred bit back. But he knew exactly who Bruce was looking at.

Bruce frowned as he ended the call abruptly and asked for a whiskey.

“I don’t know, man. She’s not my type,” a man said to his friend.

The two of them were just a foot or two away from Bruce.

“What do you mean ‘not your type’? She’s fucking hot.”

“Don’t get me wrong, she’s beautiful. But she’s so stiff and uptight. Look, she’s had a resting bitch face all night.”

Bruce’s grip on his face tightened as he easily put together who they were talking about. It was moments like these that Bruce hated being lumped together with men like this.

“You’re an idiot,” the friend said with a laugh.

“Oh, yeah? Alright. If you’re so obsessed with her, why don’t you go over and talk to her?”

Bruce saw his window. 

With a sloppy haste, Bruce turned right into the two men and just happened to spill his drink over the man who was about to make a move on Y/N.

Bruce laughed and spilled another drink on the bar as he tried to grab some nearby cocktail napkins. “Gentleman, gentleman…I so dearly apologize.”

Both of them were clearly annoyed, but then realized who he was.  

Bruce gripped them by the shoulders and made sure his eyes were struggling to stay open. “I could be wrong…but it’s possible…that I have been over served.”

He broke out into a chuckle and both men forced their own laughter.

Bruce subtle glanced over to where Y/N had been standing. She’d disappeared.

He’d spared her…for now.

“I think it’s time I go home,” Bruce told them too loudly. “Do me a favor? Wish her congratulations for me?”

The two men looked at one another. “Congratulations? To who?”

Bruce frowned in confusion and looked around. “Isn’t this an engagement party?”

They tried to hide their laughter. “Wayne, this is a birthday party. For Eaton Elliot.”

Bruce’s brows shot up. “A birthday party? Look at that!”

Then he turned around, zigzagged his walk, and threw a wave over his shoulder.

But Bruce wasn’t that lucky.

Because when he made his way to the valet, he found Y/N waiting patiently with her back to him. 

Her fancy dress and gloves seemed to do nothing to help protect her from the cold night. 

Bruce could’ve left. He could’ve left her alone, gone back into the party, and made more of a fool of himself.

But next thing he knew, he was walking forward.  

“Waiting for your car?”

Y/N didn’t turn to him, but it was clear that she heard his question and recognized who it had come from. “I didn’t drive. They’re getting me a cab.”

Bruce nodded slowly even though she wasn’t looking at him.

All charm had left his body now that he had quit the act. It wasn’t going to do any favors for him. He needed to do this on his own, as his real self.

Y/N finally turned with a slight attitude and Bruce was taken aback at how she was even more beautiful up close.

“What are you doing here, Bruce?”

He smirked. “I’m here for the party, of course.” He didn’t want to play the part anymore – not with her. But it was second nature at this point.

Her lips pursed at his response.

“Leaving so soon?” He asked.

Y/N sighed. “Between you and me, I’m only here as a favor to my mother. She wouldn’t get off my back about coming. I tried to leave sooner, but…”

One of the valets hopped up the steps. “I’m sorry, Dr. Y/L/N. It can take awhile to get cabs in the area at this time of night.”

Y/N gave him a sympathetic smile and opened her mouth to say she’d walk home.

“I’ll drive her home,” Bruce spoke before she could. Then he handed the valet his ticket.

Y/N looked at him with confusion and a bit of annoyance. “You really don’t have to do that.”

Bruce just gave her a look that said he absolutely did.

Then Y/N gestured back to the party. “You’re just gonna abandon your dates?”

The way she asked made it clear that Y/N had seen Bruce stumble out of the bathroom with the two of them. He also didn’t miss how she emphasized the plural.

“They’ll be fine,” Bruce told her.

He took a step toward her. “Let me give you a ride, Y/N.”

She took in a deep breath.

She knew she needed the ride. Only an idiot would walk home at this time of night, even if the walk to her apartment was a relatively safe one for Gotham standards.

Y/N just nodded.

A minute later, an Aston Martin drove up.

Bruce offered his arm to Y/N and helped her down the stairs before opening the passenger door for her.

He handed the valet a few bills, not even noticing they were all hundreds.

“Where to?” Bruce asked her.

“Oh, umm…” Y/N quickly gave him her address.

“I know you’ve been gone awhile, but you definitely shouldn’t be walking around the streets of Gotham at night.”

Y/N scoffed. “I’m aware. I moved back awhile ago.”

“Oh. I didn’t know…”

“Yeah. Well, why would you? It’s not like you kept in touch.”

The car filled with silence.

Y/N stared out the passenger window, looking at the skyscraper lights of Gotham

It seemed Y/N had no issue with staying silent for the whole car ride.There was nothing awkward about it for her.

But Bruce knew there were things he needed to say. “I’m sorry.”

This was the last thing Y/N expected and her head whipped to him.

But Bruce kept his eyes on the road. “For disappearing like I did.”

Y/N slowly turned back to the passenger window and said nothing.

Bruce didn’t expect to win her forgiveness. He would have to deal with that. But at least he could apologize.

“Y/N.” Bruce said it ever so quietly, like he was forbidden from speaking it. “This isn’t…I’m not…” Dammit. What was he even trying to accomplish right now? “Back there–”

“Back there?” Y/N interrupted his fumbling. “Oh, you mean the threesome you had in a bathroom at a party?”

Bruce’s jaw tightened.

Everyone bought his performance. Unfortunately, even Y/N.

Bruce pulled over and Y/N realized they were at her building already.

“You can say whatever makes you feel good, Bruce. Have at it.” Then she threw open the car door.

She put her hand on the handle to help herself out.

But she hesitated.

No. She wasn’t going down without a fight.

Y/N spun around to face Bruce, his blue eyes already waiting for her.

“You used to be kind. Strong and brave. You were better than all of them.”

And for the first time, Bruce really saw the damage he had done.

“Is that boy really gone?” She searched his eyes for the answer. “What is the act and what is the truth?” She whispered. “Huh, Bruce?”

He wanted to tell her.

Bruce had never felt the urge to expose his secret ever before.

But right now? Right now, he wanted to take Y/N back to the manor, drag her down to the cave, and show her all of his secrets – every single one.

But he couldn’t. And he knew that.

Bruce kept his face reserved.

His brow furrowed for just a second as he took Y/N in. All of her. Her eyelashes. Her lips. The styling of her hair. The dip of her neck.

“You became quite the woman, Y/N.” He told her. “And a beautiful one at that.”

Y/N blinked at the statement. Her mind desperately tried to decipher the hidden message in his words, in his actions from the night. But she came up with nothing.

She wanted to say that she knew he was using flattery to divert her attention from what she wanted to know. But it was also clear that he genuinely meant what he said as well. His eyes seeming to be taking in every moment of being in her presence.

If Y/N weren’t so irritated, she probably would’ve been more taken aback by his compliment, feeling vulnerable and almost embarrassed.

There wasn’t any point in pushing.

So Y/N took in a breath. “Thank you for the ride, Bruce.”

He just nodded. Then he watched her walk to the door of her apartment building. He probably lingered a few moments too long, but he couldn’t bring himself to once again put distance between them.

————

Alfred brought down food and an espresso to the cave.

When he looked up, Y/F/N Y/L/N’s face was on the giant screen.

“Working on a case, Master Wayne?” He asked with his usual sarcasm.

Bruce ignored the question. “She attended undergrad in Metropolis and then went to grad school in New York City.”

“Yes, I can see that…considering you have her student records exploited all over the screen,” Alfred responded with a smirk. “She’s been living in Gotham again for a few years, working as a psychiatrist. Even volunteers her services at Arkham – pro bono.”

That caught Bruce’s attention. He turned away from the screen to look at Alfred.

“I found no record of that,” he argued.

“Yes. Well, her mother is rather embarrassed by it. Thinks it gives the family a bad image. She insisted Y/N’s philanthropy was kept secret, even approved the NDAs herself.”

Bruce gave him a look, utterly confused how Alfred had access to such information.

Alfred raised an eyebrow. “Never underestimate the power of gossip, Master Wayne. Most family secrets cannot be found on the dark corners of the internet.” Then he smirked. “You would gain quite the knowledge if you didn’t turn your nose up at it.”

Bruce smiled at that and turned back to the computer.

“So, I take it that it was good seeing her?” Alfred pressed.

Bruce tensed at the question. “Not entirely. I’m certain that she hates me.”

“Hates you or hates the character you’ve so carefully created?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m just Bruce Wayne to her.”

Alfred opened his mouth to say more.

“Leave it, Alfred.” Bruce cut off before he could.

“Well, it appears I’m not the one struggling with leaving it alone, Master Wayne.”

Like many of Gotham’s elites, Alfred had humored the idea that Bruce and Y/N would make a marvelous couple. Like Bruce, Y/N didn’t let money and power sway her morals or damage her good and kind heart.

Alfred had always enjoyed having her over and listening to her and Bruce’s laughter as they caused trouble around the manor and entertained themselves.

But he also saw how her departure effected Bruce, no matter how much the teenager had tried to hide it at the time.

Maybe Alfred was an optimist or a romantic, but he still believed there was a chance for the two of them. But Bruce, quite frankly, would have to get over himself and his stubbornness.

————

Bruce was looking down at the city from yet another rooftop. It had been a quiet night. And he hated nights like that. It was always ended up being the calm before a storm.

“Batman?” Alfred spoke into his comms.

“Yes.”

“It appears there’s been a breakout at Arkham. The media hasn’t caught wind of it yet. But law enforcement has already been dispatched.”

“I’m on my way,” Bruce announced as he slid down a fire escape and made his way to the batmobile that he’d hidden in the shadows of an alley.

“Master Wayne…” Alfred knew to only use codenames on comms.

Bruce tense. “What is it?”

There was hesitation from the butler. “Y/N was scheduled to work a shift there tonight…”

Bruce said nothing. But his foot pressed the gas pedal down further than necessary.

—

Y/N was sitting with a patient when the alarm went off.

The people that worked there called them inmates, and corrected her every time she chose not to use that title.

Harleen Quinzel had been sitting across from Y/N for almost 30 minutes when they were interrupted.

“Oh, fun!” Harley clapped and giggled as the sirens filled their ears.

Harley and Y/N had formed an interesting relationship. The criminal seemed to like her and looked forward to her visits. She never threatened Y/N or tried to manipulate her.

Y/N believes she won her over by addressing her as Dr. Quinzel and often asking her professional opinions on trends and news in their industry. 

Most people there only referred to Harley as if she was property of the Joker, no matter how many times Harley clarified that she wasn’t his anything anymore.

“Does this happen a lot?” Y/N asked her, trying to remain calm.

“Not enough, if ya ask me!” She laughed.

Y/N made the mistake of opening the door and seeing that the majority of the cells had been opened and prisoners were slowly making their way into the hallway.

“Not good,” Y/N muttered.

“Don’t worry, doc. I’ll protect ya! Us gals gotta stick together.” Harley said from behind her shoulder.

Y/N whipped around and looked at her and then at the table she’d been sitting at. “Dr. Quinzel! How did you get out of your restraints?”

“Oh, I’ve always been able to. I just leave ‘em on to be polite.”

Y/N sighed. No one had explained any sort of protocol for such a situation.

“Where the fuck are all the guards?” Y/N asked.

Suddenly the lights shut off.

“Yippy!” Harley cheered.

Y/N turned to her and softly grabbed her shoulder, but gave her an insistent look. “Harley, we need to get somewhere safe.”

Her face did dip to serious for a moment. “You don’t need to worry about me. But you’re right. Not everyone in here appreciates a shrink…”

To her surprise, Harley starts pulling her through the darkness with a purpose.

Y/N had no idea where she was planning on taking her. It seemed all the doors were in lock-down mode, leaving her stranded. If she survived tonight, she’d definitely be bringing that up to the board.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Y/N yelped at the sound.

Someone had either gotten a hold of a gun or security guards were opening fire.

Either way, it caused chaos to erupt.

Suddenly the dark hallways were being filled with a stampede of prisoners. Either they wanted to take down the guard who was shooting or they were getting an adrenaline rush at the concept of their peers attacking their wardens.

The crowd ripped the two women apart. Y/N was shoved up against the wall and her head slammed against the cement.

Y/N swore under her breath from the pain.

“Is that…No, it can’t be…”

A voice called out over the madness.

A chill went up Y/N’s spine. She’d know that voice anywhere.

The Joker.

He wasn’t one of her patients. All researchers and doctors were forbidden to speak with him – especially after what happened with Harley.

But that didn’t stop the Joker from knowing who Y/N was. He whined and whined about feeling left out. “All my pals get to chat with her and all I get to do is look!”

Now, Joker was free from him isolation.

Y/N suspected he was behind the breakout.

And he was going to make a slight detour. A detour that was doing whatever the hell he wanted to with Dr. Y/L/N.

Y/N didn’t even bother hiding her fear. With a new found strength and endurance, she started shoving her way through the mob.

“I hear you and my pumpkin’ pie have gotten close.” Then his smile dropped. “Too close, if ya ask me.”

Y/N ignored him as another prisoner shoved into her shoulder.

“I don’t appreciate you putting ideas in her head!”

Y/N stopped, realizing she had miscalculated her escape and had come to a dead end.

So she slowly turned around to face him, putting her back to the wall. “And what ideas are those?”

“Independence. Self respect. A life beyond crime and incarceration,” he spat.

Y/N realized he had his goonies flanking him, only making her odds that much worse.

“Those aren’t ideas. They’re a reality, a possible future,” she defended.

Joker didn’t like that answer one bit. He threw himself against her, once again slamming Y/N into the wall.

He gripped her chin roughly and smiled with his yellow teeth. “You know…she’s not the only doctor I’d like to break in. And in more ways than one, if you catch my drift,” he giggled.

Then his eyes raked over her body, up and down. His hands slid down her hips and the side of her legs until they got to the hem of her pencil skirt.

Y/N shoved him away with all of her strength. 

But that earned her a slap across the face from him.

Joker gripped her waist tightly pressing her between the wall and his body. “I’m in charge now, doc. And I’ve got a few lessons to teach you.”

His hands grabbed at the buttons of her blouse and with one jerk, he ripped open her her blouse.

But before he could go any further, a few of his lackeys cried out in pain. 

Y/N swore she heard the sound of objects whipping through the darkness. 

She didn’t want to let herself feel any relief. But she hoped Harley had made her way back to her. She’d probably pack an even heavier punch once she realized Y/N needed protecting from her asshole ex.

But when Joker turned around and Y/N followed his gaze, Harley was nowhere to be found.

Yet three men were on the ground, unconscious.

“Well, well, well,” Joker muttered in amusement. “Has Batsy come out to play?”

Next thing Y/N saw was a shadow dropping down out of nowhere and taking out even more of Joker’s men.

Joker seemed to be prepared for such an interruption. Because he grabbed a knife from somewhere hidden on his body and ripped Y/N off the wall. He pressed Y/N’s back to his chest and put the tip of his knife to her throat.

“Come out, come out wherever you are,” Joker sang.

To Y/N’s shock, Batman stepped into what little light was in the hallway.

“Long time, no see!” Joker screamed so loudly that Y/N flinched. “Did you miss me, Batsy? And you came all this way to see little old me?! How very sweet!”

“Your attempted escape was a failure,” Batman stated. “There’s nowhere for you to go. All the exits are blocked. Arkham has been contained.”

“What a shame! I really felt this one was gonna work!” Joker laughed.

Batman took a step toward him. “It’s over, Joker.”

“You’re probably right,” Joker shrugged. “But I really wanted to have some fun with doc here. So, if you could give us some privacy.”

Batman’s eyes flickered to Y/N’s for a brief moment. “Let her go,” he warned.

“How about…no?” Joker laughed.

Just as Batman was about to make his move, Y/N grabbed the wrist of Joker’s arm that held the knife. She twisted it and dived in such a succinct motion that it was obvious Y/N had been trained.

Whipping herself out of Joker’s grip, she twisted Joker’s arm so roughly and quickly behind his back that he had no choice but to drop his knife from the pain.

Then Y/N was now facing him, and with one swift swing of her leg, she kicked him right in the groan.

Batman saw his opening and rushed forward, cuffing Joker in place.

While Batman neutralized him, Y/N stumbled for the knife that Joker had dropped, still not feeling safe and out of danger.

She looked around, realizing that the police had filtered in and apprehended all the escaped prisoners. Some were already locked back into their cells. Other’s were in handcuffs with guns being pointed at them in warning.

“Dr. Y/L/N,” his voice made her whip back around.

How the hell did Batman know her name?

She squinted wearily at him.

“You can drop the knife,” Batman told her quietly.

Y/N blinked and looked down at her hand, having forgotten that she even grabbed the knife. And she now had a vice-like grip on it.

Her hands were shaking when she dropped the knife and the clatter echoed in the hallway.

She eyed the Joker, not trusting any sort of weapon to be in his vicinity, despite being handcuffed now.

“He’s not going anywhere,” Batman noted, as if he could read her mind and hear the concerns she was thinking.

Police officers surrounded them now.

“Until next time, doc!” Joker sang loudly.

Batman stepped between him and Y/N, shielding her from even being seen by the lunatic.

Y/N eyed him, wondering if he did that on purpose.

“This way,” he directed lowly as he led her out of the hallway.

Y/N was surprised when he escorted her all the way out of the building.

Wasn’t this supposed to be Gotham’s Dark Knight? A disappearing act? An urban legend that some people still didn’t believe in?

When they got outside, there were even more officers. The night was flickering blue and red from all the patrol car’s lights still being on.

Commissioner Gordon was having a field day with Arkham’s warden, yelling at him about lack of protocol and no protection for the volunteers and workers that had gotten caught in the crossfire.

But finally, the reality of what just happened was starting to set in for Y/N. And she realized that her entire body was shaking.

All of a sudden, a blanket was wrapped around her shoulders.

She looked up to see that Batman had draped it over her. When and where he’d grabbed it, she had no clue. But the warmth was helping, so she didn’t question it.

“Thank you…for saving me back there.”

Was that a smirk on his lips? Was Batman amused by her?

Why was it so comforting when he was a mere stranger?

And his eyes, even when they were surrounded by a cowl and dark paint, they still felt familiar. Y/N had a similar feeling to deja vu.

“Looked like you had it handled,” he replied.

“Oh, I definitely didn’t. But thank god for those self-defense classes.”

They looked into each other’s eyes for a second.

“Make sure you get checked out by the paramedics,” he told her gently, but insistent.

It was far too gentle for his Batman alter ego. But she caught how it sounded like it personally mattered to him.

Y/N looked behind her, where the ambulance was.

But when she turned back around, Batman was gone.

Next thing Y/N knew, she was being surrounded by two paramedics and Commissioner Gordon who was careful not to push her by asking too many questions at once.

“Does he always do that?” She asked him in a daze.

“Do what?” Gordon asked.

“Disappear like that?”

Gordon smiled and nodded. “Annoying, isn’t it?”

———

“What’s the gossip of the privileged this week?” Bruce asked Alfred at breakfast a few days after the outbreak.

“Something specific you’re looking for, Master Wayne?” Alfred asked as he poured Bruce a big mug of coffee.

Bruce glared at him, knowing he was playing coy with him.

But he put his pride aside. “How is she doing?”

Alfred took pity on him. “She took some time off work. But seems to be handling it better than expected. Makes quite a bit of sense, doesn’t it? Her being psychiatrist and all.”

Bruce just nodded with a dazed look.

“You could always see for yourself…” Alfred added.

Bruce snapped out of his daze and looked up him questioningly.

“You could go see her,” Alfred confirmed.

“Alfred, don’t you start.”

“Start what, Master Wayne? Pushing you to form any sort of relationship?”

Bruce sighed and got up from the breakfast nook. He didn’t want to fight with him, so he’d made his exit before that happened.

“Batman has plenty of friends,” Alfred stopped him. “But what about Bruce Wayne, hmm? Who are his friends?”

“You saying we’re not friends, Alfred?”

“I’m all you’ve got, Master Wayne. And that’s my point.”

Before the discussion could go on any further, the doorbell rang.

The two men shared a look. 

No one stopped by the manor.

Alfred made his way over.

Bruce figured he’d wait where he was. But the front entrance was too far away from him to overhear any conversation.

A few minutes later, Alfred walked in with an unreadable expression.

“Dr. Y/L/N is here, Master Wayne. She is waiting for you in the drawing room.”

Bruce opened his mouth to tell him to make an excuse and get her to leave. But Alfred was already disappearing, making it clear that he would do no such thing for him.

When Bruce walked into the drawing room, he found Y/N’s back to him as she looked at the family heirlooms and trinkets that were displayed on the shelved.

She was dressed casually, which caught Bruce off guard since he’d only see her in formal wear and professional outfits since their reunion. Her hair was in a messy bun and she didn’t appear to be wearing much makeup, if any at all.

“Hi,” he greeted softly, making her quickly turn around.

“Hi,” she replied.

Bruce stepped further into the room. But neither of them moved to sit in any of the many seats that surrounded them.

“I heard what happened. How are you doing?” He asked.

She nodded and shrugged. “Alright.”

“I’m surprised to see you here,” Bruce admitted.

Y/N ignored his comment and her eyes went around the room. “I missed this place,” she thought aloud. Then her eyes fell back to his, softening. “I missed you.”

Bruce was taken aback from her confession. Seeing as the last time they were together, she was rather blunt about how disgusted and disappointed in him she was.

The energy between them felt so different than last time.

To his surprise, Y/N stepped toward him. And she didn’t stop until she was at a proximity that most would call rather intimate.

There was a voice in the back of Bruce’s mind, urging him to close the last bit of distance and place his lips on hers. But he managed to ignore it. That didn’t stop his heart from beating faster, though.

Y/N stared into his eyes for a few seconds, almost like she was searching for something.

“I have something that belongs to you…”

Bruce waited, not sure what she could possibly have to give him.

But then she pulled out one of his batarangs from her coat pocket, offering it to him.

She had found it embedded in the wall when she had gone back down to grab her personal belongings that night. 

Bruce kept his face composed. “I’m not sure I understand.” 

But he grabbed it from her anyways.

“He’s you,” she whispered. “Or I guess…you’re him.”

Bruce let out a breath, “Y/N…”

She took step away from him. “Don’t lie to me, Bruce.”

So he shut his mouth and said nothing instead.

“I’ve been doing some research. Things started lining up,” Y/N explained. “The first Batman sightings were right around when we stopped talking. The more Batman was in the press, the less Bruce Wayne was. And when he was, it was never positive – like it was meant to be a distraction.”

Her eyes went sad. “I never understood how the boy I used to love could grow into the man I’m so disappointed in. It never made sense.” She paused. “But when you wonder if the man himself is the mask, it all fits.”

“I’m sorry.” Bruce hung his head slightly. “I couldn’t tell anyone. Not even you.”

“I’d never share your secret.”

“I know,” he answered instantly.

Y/N couldn’t hold back her emotions any longer. Her eyes welled with tears. “Bruce…living like this has its consequences.”

Bruce said nothing.

She stepped forward and grabbed his hand. “You can’t change the world on your own. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Y/N wasn’t giving him advice. She was offering him something.  

Her trust.

Her secrecy.

Her love.

He shook his head, but gripped her hand tightly. “You would just end up in the shadows with me. And I…I can’t do that to you.”

“I’m stronger than you think,” Y/N defended.

“I’ve always known how strong you are, Y/N.” His jaw tightened at even the thought of being selfish. “You deserve more than what I can give. Gotham will always come first. That’s the sacrifice I made. That’s what is required. I can’t be what you need.”

Y/N studied his face, knowing that there would be no winning with him.

She nodded once, not even slightly hiding her heartbreak and disappointment.

Then she stepped closer and gave him a slow kiss on the cheek.

“It’s not a one time offer, Bruce.”

Bruce couldn’t move a muscle. He was rooted in place.

He heard Y/N have a short conversation with Alfred, then the door closed, and she was gone again.

———

Bruce Wayne was a fool.

Alfred could probably make a list, in seconds, with a hundred reasons why.

But, no, Bruce Wayne was a fool for believing Y/N would give up so easily.

Two weeks later, Y/N was at Wayne Manor again.

Bruce knew something was going on when Alfred didn’t seem surprised in the slightest.

In one of her arms was popcorn seeds, twizzlers, sour patch kids, and chocolate covered pretzels. In the other arm was a case of beer.

Y/N barely said hi to Bruce as Alfred helped her out of her coat and took the things out of her grasp so she was no longer struggling to hold it all.

“I’m here to use your theater,” she announced.

And with that, she walked right past Bruce like she owned the place.

Bruce looked at Alfred and silently asked, ‘What the hell is going on?’

“I believe you have a guest to entertain, Master Wayne.” Then he looked at the items in his hand. “And I believe I have some popcorn to make.”

Bruce still didn’t move.

“You successfully closed yet another case last night, it’s Friday night, and you have a beautiful woman who decided she wants to spend her time with you. Best you don’t keep her waiting, Master Wayne.”

Bruce narrowed his gaze as if telling Alfred they’d discuss this matter at another time.

“I presume you shouldn’t go empty handed,” Alfred added quickly and handed Bruce two beers from the case in his arms.

Bruce chuckled, but started walking away. “I’m surprised you even let this stuff in the house, Alfred.”

When Bruce reached the theater, Y/N had already started a movie.

He watched her a for a moment before she could realize he'd joined her. 

Y/N looked like she belonged there. Even after all this time apart, she just burrowed herself a cozy nook in Bruce’s life.

It was something she had been able to do even when they were kids. When Bruce had his mood swings or his depressive episodes, Y/N didn’t scare. She just found her way to stay at his side without upsetting him further.

Bruce grabbed the seat to the left of hers.

They weren’t really seats, more like small beds. A dozen were placed in the theater.

A couple could easily share one, but Bruce wasn’t planning on even approaching that fine line.

When Bruce sat down, he didn’t look at Y/N. But she gave a shy smile at his joining.

It was a long movie – almost a 3 hour run time.

And Y/N almost made it.

Without only 30 minutes left, Y/N had fallen asleep. Meaning Bruce’s attention was now taken from the movie.

He got up and grabbed one of the many blankets in the trunk hidden in the corner and placed it carefully over her, before silently leaving.

This was not a one time thing.

These type of visits continued.

Bruce knew Y/N and Alfred had to be in cahoots together. 

Y/N seemed to always come to the manor when Bruce needed her most. 

Alfred would force Bruce out of the cave and moments later, the doorbell would be ringing.

On the bad nights, she wouldn’t make him talk. She wouldn’t ask questions or try to make him magically feel better. Sometimes she would talk – mostly about mundane things. She’d tell Bruce about her day or how her neighbor always left baked goods at her door or about the new show she started watching. Sometimes she wouldn’t say anything at all, just sit there silently and make sure he wasn’t alone.

Sometimes she would bring coffee and pastries.

Sometimes Bruce would just walk into the library and find her reading.

Sometimes she would sit and chat with Alfred as if he was the reason she was visiting, and not Bruce.

Bruce couldn’t sleep one night. Nothing specific was causing his insomnia. Just the overall weight of being so many people.

It was 3AM when Y/N texted him to open the door for her because she didn’t want to wake Alfred.

When Bruce did so, Y/N was standing on the other door in sandals and a slightly transparent coverup that barely showed the outline of the bathing suit underneath.

He said nothing, but his face clearly showed that he wanted to know why the hell she was there in the middle of the night.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Y/N told him quietly. Then she shrugged a bit,“I decided I wanted to go for a swim."

Whether she was lying for his benefit, Bruce wasn’t sure. But he followed her to the indoor swimming pool like a sailor would follow a siren.

Without hesitation, Y/N kicked her sandals off and tossed her coverup on the nearest chair. And the next second, she was diving into the pool.

Bruce smirked at her nonchalance, but made sure to hide it when she breached the surface once again.

“Doesn’t your apartment building have its won pool?” He asked.

Y/N smiled and tilted her head back to get her hair wet again and out of her face. “They put too much chlorine in it.”

Bruce crossed his arms, “I see.”

“Coming in?” She asked teasingly.

He shook his head.

“At least keep me company,” she requested.

Bruce glared playfully at her, knowing the game she was playing.

But he finally sighed and nodded.

He was in cotton shorts and a t-shirt. But he decided to sit on the edge of the pool and dip his feet in.

He watched as she swam around, looking as natural in the water as a mermaid. She had always loved swimming as a kid and it appeared not much had changed.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” He finally decided to break the silence.

Y/N swam to him and crossed her arms on the edge of the pool to rest and tilted her head to look at him.

She shrugged, “The usual: stress, nightmares, insomnia, too much caffeine.”

 Bruce’s concern spiked instantly. “Nightmares about what?”

She watched him for a moment, seeing how quickly her subtle comment triggered him.

“You’re not the only person who’s seen fucked up things, Bruce.”

An hour later, Y/N asked for a towel.

When she climbed out, she was taken aback by Bruce wrapping it around her shoulders and rubbing her down gently. It was innocent, but subtly intimate.

As their eyes locked for a prolonged time, and he seemed to realize what he’d done accidentally.

Y/N cleared her throat. “I should head home and let you try to get some sleep.”

“You could stay,” he offered. “I mean, we have plenty of bedrooms here,” he quickly added and saved himself a bit.

“Is that…what you want?” Y/N asked slowly.

Bruce knew what she was trying to ask. He didn’t trust himself to answer the way he should, so he didn’t answer.

“Let me drive you home,” he asked as they left the indoor pool and started toward the front entrance.

Y/N ignored the request until they were at the door. She turned to face him with a smug look, “I’m perfectly capable of driving myself. Thank you.”

She hesitated before kissing him on the cheek. “Get some sleep, Bruce.”

————

Months after Y/N’s visits started, Bruce was doing some research for a case on his tablet as he ate dinner.

“Margaret Caulfield’s engagement party is tonight,” Alfred broke the silence of the manor as he took Bruce’s finished plate.

Bruce looked confused on why he was supposed to care.

“Y/N will be there,” Alfred added.

But Bruce still didn’t understand what he was trying to say.

“Master Wayne, when you attend all those sufferable parties, what is the first question people ask you?”

Bruce thought for a moment. “When I plan on settling down, I guess.”

“Now imagine that, but magnified by about 100…and that is what Y/N’s experience is at those same parties. That young woman is one of the brightest people in Gotham and all those people care about is who will put a silly ring on her finger.”

Bruce leaned back in his chair, now understanding what Alfred was getting at. “I’m not her boyfriend, Alfred.”

“And you’ve made damn sure of that,” Alfred said a little too harshly.

Bruce watched him carefully.

“Y/N has fought off every one of your attempts to be a miserable recluse.”

Bruce opened his mouth.

“And don’t you dare try and tell me her efforts are wasted,” Alfred cut him off. “I’ve seen a change in you. And she has asked for absolutely nothing in return. She’d never ask you to pick her over Batman. Though she bloody well should!”

He wasn’t done.

“You’re not living, Master Wayne. And I won’t apologize for wanting more for you.”

Bruce just sat there and took it.

Alfred took in a breath, calming himself down. “There’s a suit waiting for you in your bedroom. I’ve decided I’m going for a evening walk.”

——————

Y/N didn’t know how many more champagnes she’d have to shrug to start feeling the buzz she so desperately needed.

Not even an hour of being at the party and she’s already been asked 15 times if she was seeing anyone. And when she answered no, half of those ended in them trying to set her up with someone.

As Y/N was trying to think of an excuse to escape, an old family friend approached her – a friend of her grandma’s unfortunately.

“Y/N, dear, let me see those hands!”

Y/N wanted to roll her eyes and snap, but she did as requested.

“No ring yet,” the woman teased, but she was also genuinely disappointed.

“That would be my fault, actually.” A voice said behind Y/N before she felt a hand on her lower back.

“Oh, Mr. Wayne, how nice of you to come!” The woman beamed. “Now, Y/N, why wouldn’t you tell anyone that you and Bruce are an item?”

“My fault again,” Bruce chuckled, “I’ve always enjoyed a good secret.”

Before she could ask more, Bruce smiled politely. “If you could excuse us for a moment.”

He steered Y/N to a private area of the party.

“What are you doing?” Y/N hissed at him. “The press are gonna have a field day. You and I will be every headline tomorrow.”

He smiled at her frantic concern.

“Why are you looking at me like that? I’m serious!”

Bruce captured her lips, silencing any further panic from her.

Y/N was completely caught off guard, but he wasn’t letting her go so easily. And soon, her hand went to the back of his head and she kissed him back. 

Damn all the people who were probably watching them.

When Bruce finally let her pull away, he smirked at her dazed look and cupped her cheek. 

She matched his smirk.

But then reality set in like a splash of cold water and she frowned.

“Am I – Is this your new cover?” She asked shakily, so scared that the answer was ‘yes.’

She could tolerate being Bruce’s friend for the rest of her life. But she wouldn’t survive being used in such a way. She couldn’t live in a fake relationship with a man she actually loved. She’d rather watch his sloppy persona with girls hanging off of him.

“No cover-up,” he muttered to her. “Just me and you – the real me.”

-----------------------------------------------------

I worked so hard on this 😩  Please let me know your thoughts.