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rhiannonsknife · 1 day ago

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── ❆ DAY 01: christmas with rhiannon lewis

— summary: your first christmas with rhiannon hcs.

— warnings: mostly just fluff. established relationship. gn!reader. some nsfw below the cut. fem!reader for the nsfw hcs. mdni. based on a request from 🦔 anon.

— a/n: it‘s december 1st, you know what that means….

rhiannon, who used to hate christmas.

growing up, christmas was more of a reminder of what rhiannon didn’t have than a celebration. her dad obviously tried his best, but the lack of warmth from anyone else in her life left her feeling even more lonely than usually. she hated the way other kids would brag about their perfect holidays, their picture-perfect family moments that felt so far out of reach to her. her kill lists, around that time of the year, mostly consisted of everyone who’s even remotely excited for christmas: the people who work at the supermarket and start putting up christmas decor mid-october. the tourists who come for the holidays and make going out a living hell. the coworkers who care enough to organize a mini christmas party that i will have to attend to…

rhiannon, who still hates christmas when you come into her life.

she might even openly scoff at your initial attempts to bring up christmas plans to her. “it’s all a load of crap, isn’t it? people pretending to be nice for a few weeks when they’re awful the rest of the year”. “not much of a christmas person?” you ask in return. your joyful tone is irritating her already. she’s been avoiding the holiday whenever possible; no decorations, no presents, not even festive movies. but that was all before you.

rhiannon, who actually changes her mind because of you.

the first time she reluctantly agrees to celebrate christmas with you, rhiannon is wary to say the least. she’s convinced it’ll either be over-the-top, fake, or just another day of her feeling like an outsider in someone else’s happiness. by then, you’ve obviously figured out why rhiannon hates christmas so much and you’re determined to change her mind. you’re careful with your plans, though, wanting to make her feel comfortable rather than overwhelmed. whether it’s a quiet evening for just the two of you or inviting her to your family’s celebration, you make it clear that she’s not a guest: she’s part of everything.

decorating the whole house with rhiannon.

when you show up with a large stack of boxes on her doorstep in late november, rhiannon tries to talk you out of the idea the second she spots tinsel poking out of one of them. “it’s not even december yet” she cries as you carry them down the hall. you just hush her and set them down. “it’s almost december”. regardless of her first reluctance, she’s surprisingly easy to convince, thanks to your enthusiasm. within minutes, she’s tangled in christmas lights, grumbling about how “this better not end up on your instagram.” turns out that rhiannon takes decorating surprisingly seriously, adjusting ornaments until they’re “just right” and pretending she doesn’t care when she actually loves the process. you catch her smiling as she hangs a particularly sparkly ornament, feeling like a kid all over again. in the end, the whole house looks more festive and lively than she has ever seen. (which lowkey heals her inner child <33)

also: getting rhiannon an advent calendar!!

you surprise her with an advent calendar on the last day of november. at first, rhiannon doesn’t get the point of it. “what’s the big deal? it’s just chocolate” by day 3, she’s fully invested, and you catch her sneaking ahead to open more than one door at a time. if the calendar has little trinkets or personalized notes, she gets flustered but cherishes each one. by the time she realizes you’ve put so much thought into it, she’s hooked and already begs you for another one next year!

christmas shopping with rhiannon.

well she’s obviously the type who will roll her eyes at the sight of overly commercialized christmas displays, muttering something under her breath about how “it’s just a cash grab” or how “no one actually needs a twelve-foot inflatable santa” and, sure, she’s got a point but she does enjoy getting presents for you!! rhiannon genuinely wants to make christmas special for you, even if she doesn’t say it outright. present shopping, though? now that’s a whole ordeal. it’s been ages since she’s shopped for someone she truly cared about, and the pressure is on. she overthinks every little decision. if you go shopping together, she drags you to every possible store to “just look” but you know she’s subtly trying to figure out what stuff you like the most so she can surprise you later. as you browse the aisles, you notice the way her eyes flicker to everything you touch or linger on a little too long. when she finally picks one out for you and hands it to you later, you obviously end up loving it! that’s only when her worried expression turns into the softest, most genuine smile. “see? told you i’m good at this!”

speaking of going out together: christmas markets with rhiannon!

rhiannon grumbles the entire way to the market, hands stuffed deep into her jacket pockets as she complains about how crowded it’s going to be. “do we really have to do this? it’s just overpriced junk and pushy people,” she mutters, though she doesn’t stop walking beside you. still, you’re determined to give her the whole couple’s christmas experience. rhiannon does change her mind, kind of, when you reach your destination; surrounded by twinkling fairy lights and the warm smell of roasted chestnuts, her eyes betray her. she keeps up her indifferent act at first, sticking close to your side and offering sarcastic commentary about the stalls. but then she spots a table filled with handmade ornaments or vintage trinkets (or maybe sylvanian families…) and suddenly she’s not so aloof anymore. when you finally stop for hot chocolate, rhiannon insists she’s only getting one because it’s freezing, not because she actually wants it. but the way she lights up when they hand her a cup piled high with whipped cream and sprinkles says otherwise.

baking christmas cookies with rhiannon.

you obviously have to convince rhiannon to bake cookies with you, and though she claims she’s “not a baker,” she quickly gets competitive about who can decorate their cookies better. tink would probably constantly get in the way, trying to steal a bite, and rhiannon has to put her back down to the floor time and time again. also: from the moment you start, rhiannon makes it clear that she’s not taking this as seriously. she insists on tasting the dough (“quality control,” she claims with a wink as she dips her finger into the bowl) and keeps sneaking bites until you swat at her hand. she might even flick flour at you if you ever try to scold her for it. when the cookies finally go into the oven, the chaos settles. you sit on the counter, letting your legs dangle as the warm scent of cinnamon and sugar fills the air. rhiannon leans against the counter between your knees, her hands lightly resting on your thighs as you talk and laugh. suddenly, and with no warning, she leans up and kisses you, her lips warm and sweet from the dough she’s been sneaking. “now, what was that for?” you ask, a little breathless and smiling against her mouth. rhiannon shrugs. “my reward for all my hard work, obviously”

rhiannon who’s terrible at wrapping presents.

and when i say terrible i mean it! she might know how to work her way around knives but give her a roll of tape and wrapping paper, and suddenly she’s out of her depth. the tape ends up everywhere but where it’s supposed to go and the wrapping paper is a mess: there’s tape stuck to her fingers, uneven cuts of paper barely covering the gift, and an entire corner left exposed. at least her effort is endearing. also rhiannon who lowkey gets so unnecessarily angry at the wrapping paper and/or the tape (probably both, let’s be real). when the tape decides to stick to itself instead of where it’s supposed to go, rhiannon snaps, tossing the mangled roll onto the table with a growl. “stupid piece of- why does anyone even do this?!”you have to turn away so she won’t see you giggling…it’s simply too endearing to watch someone so capable be so thoroughly defeated by something as mundane as wrapping paper. when she starts yelling at the paper itself, calling it “cheap” (amongst other words starting with c) and accusing it of conspiring against her, you can’t hold it in anymore. you turn away, this time, biting your lip to keep from laughing out loud, but rhiannon catches you anyway. “oh, you think this is funny, huh?” she snaps, crossing her arms. when you finally face her, your giggles spilling out, she can’t help but crack a smile. “maybe i should just leave the gift unwrapped,” she grumbles, handing you the mess in defeat. “here. you do it. i’ll just…supervise” and supervise she does: leaning over your shoulder, her chin resting on top of your head, as you salvage her disaster. every so often, she’ll mumble something about how ridiculous the whole tradition is and how she’ll dig up the grave of whoever invented it to kill them all over again.

rhiannon’s reaction to being genuinely spoiled for the first time though <33

she doesn’t expect you to get her anything: she’s not used to people going out of their way for her. at first, she hesitates, eyes scanning the gifts with a look of disbelief, like they’re some kind of elaborate joke. rhiannon crosses her arms, giving you an almost embarrassed smile. “you didn’t have to do all that for me,” she mutters, her voice low and uncertain. she looks almost as though she expects the presents to vanish if she reaches for them, like she isn’t allowed to accept something so genuine. her expression softens more and more as she opens each gift. whether it’s something practical, sentimental, or simply ridiculous, she’ll treasure it all the same because it came from you! (also; getting her a new set of knives??)

bringing rhiannon to your family’s annual christmas celebration!!

she’s stiff at first, unsure how to fit in and overwhelmed with the idea of not knowing what to do and how to act. but when she sees how warmly they welcome her, it’s clear that she’s not used to this kind of genuine affection. she might even retreat to another room for a moment to collect herself, embarrassed at how emotional she feels. when you find her there, hiding in your childhood bedroom, you’re so worried at first. “we can go” you offer, already reaching for your coat. “i’m sorry, i didn’t know this would be too much for you”. “no” rhiannon assures, gently shaking her head. “no, it’s not. it’s just- everyone’s so nice. i always thought it was just…for other people. not me” you reassure her that this isn’t a one-time thing: this is her new normal now. rhiannon belongs here, with you, and you’ll make every christmas just as special for her!! <3

rhiannon and all the small, sweet moments leading up to christmas.

on cold nights, she’ll always insist you take her coat or scarf to keep warm. people are not the only dangers rhiannon will keep you safe from. other nights, after a long day, the two of you sit together, gluing glitter onto homemade ornaments for the tree. rhiannon’s ornaments end up a little…wonky (some are lopsided, others are more glitter than wood) but they’re hers, and that’s all that matters. you also notice that she, despite her insistence that she “hates christmas music,” begins to hum along with the songs playing on the radio as you decorate the tree. she tries to cover it up too but you definitely caught that line of “last christmas” slipping from her lips. you also surprise her by getting some stupid santa hat for tink. at first, she rolls her eyes and calls it stupid, but the sight of her little dog in festive gear has her quietly giggling.

— some nsfw below. mdni.

surprising rhiannon with a christmassy lingerie set.

as cliche as she might find it at first, her mouth does water at the sight of you when you call her into the bedroom, where she finds you in a lacy, red lingerie set. it clings to your body just right and the thin fabric leaves little to her imagination. “merry christmas. you grin at her. “i thought you might like this. a little something for the occasion…” you’ve got one hand propped up on your hip, the other beckoning her over. god, she doesn’t have to be told twice; instantly tumbling towards the bed to join you. that night, rhiannon is all over you, taking her sweet time to take each lacy item off as she runs her hands all over your body. “it’s like unwrapping a present” she grins sheepishly as she kisses down your stomach, fingers teasingly brushing underneath the lacy hemline and pressing against your clit before dragging the panties down with her teeth.

rhiannon who uses christmas as an opportunity to gift you new things to try out.

maybe it’s her first time trying out strap-on sex. she’d be so shy to bring it up, blushing furiously while her hand is fumbling with the bag in which she keeps her purchase. “we don’t have to” she mumbles nervously. “i just thought it could be- eh- fun”. you roll your eyes affectionately, taking the bag from her to finally see what she’s keeping inside. your jaw drops a little bit when you pull out the dildo, a bottle of lube and a harness. “look-” rhiannon says quickly “we can just pretend this never happened if you don’t like it, okay?” but you do like it. so much, in fact, that you have to put it on her immediately and the two of you spend christmas eve in bed together, trying out various new positions: you suck rhiannon off for the very first time, and she finally gets what all the hype was about when she sees you on your knees before her, running her fingers through your hair as you choke on the strap. then, she asks you to ride her. and this time, she actually has both hands free to do whatever while she can watch you bounce, which rhiannon makes good use of: she roams your whole body, eagerly groping your breasts, holding your hips and rubbing your clit. by the end of the night, you’re shaking all over and fall asleep in her arms.

post celebration sex with rhiannon.

when you fall into bed together after a long, but great day of festivities, you’re both way too full of pent-up energy to go to sleep. instead, you use the other as an outlet for said energy: you go from cuddling lovingly, to slowly grinding against each other underneath the thick blankets, warming up in the freezing cold room. slowly kissing down her body or having her sit on your face, giggling quietly when your old bed won’t stop squeaking with every single move, in spite of your attempts to be quiet. literally worshipping every inch of her skin your mouth can reach, showing her just how grateful you are that she came along and that she’s here with you now.

food play with rhiannon guys…

it’s another one of those times when she uses christmas as an excuse to get something new: she buys an insane amount of those chocolates, knowing that she will enjoy it and that, if you’re not down for it, she’ll probably eat it either way. you, however, are very much down for it, as it turns out. it’s an odd sensation, at first, when rhiannon begins to pour the melted chocolate down your belly. it makes you shiver a little bit and she puts a hand on your waist steadily. “everything okay?” she asks, always careful with trying new stuff. “mhm” you whisper, arching your back up. rhiannon takes it as a sign and carefully puts her mouth on you. she’s kissing down the entire expanse of your stomach, licking off the sweetness as she goes. it’s a new feeling, to say the least, but not one you dislike. rhiannon hums happily, broad tongue pressing against your skin. maybe she puts it on your chest next, swirling her tongue around your nipples to get everything off of your skin, not even realizing that -at this point- you need more than just her mouth on your torso, and that you’re bucking your hips because it feels so good yet not enough.

— masterlist

#˙ ❆ ̟ !! ─ christmas works #rhiannon lewis #rhiannon lewis x reader #rhiannon lewis x female reader #rhiannon lewis x you #sweetpea

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black-cat-luck · 2 days ago

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Would you be able to do how the kids react when Bruce is hurt really badly

yes!! I love this :]

༺♡♱⋆🦇⋆♱♡༻

Dick

𖥔 He panics. He’s the strong one, he tries to remain level headed to keep everyone else calm and so they don’t send themselves into a panic attack, he is always calm and collected in stressful situations.

𖥔 But oh god that’s a lot of blood. In this moment he isn’t actually sure what happened, he doesn’t even remember who they’re fighting, where they are. A pained cry escapes his throat as his hands press over the bleeding wound in Bruce’s chest. He hears yelling, the others trying to get him and Bruce somewhere safe, trying to get Dick to tell them how bad the injury is, what can they do?

𖥔 “I-I don’t know!” Dick cries, every second of training, every hour spent learning how to stay calm under stress, stay levelheaded, assess the dangers around you first and never let your guard down, it’s all left him. He can’t move, he can’t breathe, because Bruce isn’t breathing, Bruce is bleeding out in his arms.

𖥔 Thankfully for Dicks sake, this was a league mission, so he doesn’t have to be the collected one. Superman is able to get both of them out of danger, he speaks close to Dicks ear, not because the boy is listening, but because the comms are on and Alfred is already readying the batcave for their arrival.

𖥔 Bruce makes a perfectly fine recovery, and Dick is mortified by how he reacted. He knows Bruce will be disappointed, he knows he will be shamed for letting himself be so weak, risking not only his own life, but Bruce’s by leaving them vulnerable in the battle field. Instead Bruce sets his hand on Dicks head, ruffling his hair softly, before his expression becomes serious, hand gently holding his cheek. “I’m here Chum, you don’t have to be embarrassed for being scared. I’m sorry for worrying you.” He says, and Dick cries again, laughing wetly. “You nearly died and you’re apologizing to me?” He asks, it sounds ridiculous. “Yeah, cause I know I would’ve been the same if it were you.” Bruce says it effortlessly, and Dick leans over, hugging him, careful of the healing wound. They’ve both lost too much to be able to lose each other, and that’s what’s the scariest, that they wouldn’t be able to survive losing anyone else, and they can’t promise they won’t. Dick just has to remain strong, and make sure he always has Bruce’s back so this never happens again.

Jason

𖥔 Jason’s anger has always been his strong suit. He was the happy Robin, the cheerful little boy that bounced on his feet and laughed and joked even in dire situations, and that was his weakness. He would’ve been inconsolable if he had Bruce not breathing at his feet like he does right now.

𖥔 But now Jason is angry. He would never admit it in a vicinity Bruce can hear, but how dare they try and take his dad from him? It’s easy for him to let his anger take control, to be violent and bloody because Bruce can’t see him murdering right now because he himself was just almost murdered. It’s not an almost yet, he hasn’t taken a breath in three minutes. Jason can hear it all, through his own blood rushing through his ears, he hears the others talking; he wants to tune it out, he wants to ignore it but he needs to know when Bruce is okay, when he breathes again.

𖥔 Fuck Jason hates the guy, he can’t stand to even look at him but he’s fighting back the sick rising up his throat as he hears his own thoughts. What if this is it? Bruce can’t come back from this. It’s over. The last thing Jason ever said to him is I hate you.

𖥔 Jason finds the man that stopped Bruce’s heart, and screams in anguish as he tackles him to the ground. His guns are thrown aside, his mask is yanked off his head because he’s killing this man. Not a bullet, not Red Hood, Jason Todd is killing this man. He didn’t kill Batman, he killed Jason’s father. His hands shake violently as they squeeze at his throat. He can’t hear the commotion anymore, he can’t hear anyone’s words, his eyes shine green as tears fall past them.

𖥔 I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. He’ll never be able to take it back. He’ll never get to apologize, to mend what was broken, to forgive Bruce and get to be his son again. He’s just a weapon, he’s just a solider, he’s a murderer. The man’s neck snaps underneath his hands as Bruce takes in his first gasp of air.

𖥔 Jason slowly stumbles to his feet, shaking as he faces the others, there’s looks of disgust, of horror, of understanding. Bruce is struggling to his feet, looking at Jason, even with his cowl on Jason knows he’s afraid, he’s confused, worried.

𖥔 “Let’s get home Bat, you need rest.” Jason wraps Bruce’s arm around his shoulder, dragging him along. Batman doesn’t utter a word, nobody does. Jason slams the door to the Batmobile shut, bloody knuckles going white from how he grips the steering wheel. He swerves recklessly, he’s crying, his hands are shaking, he can’t breathe and he’s terrified, all of his adrenaline crashing as he swallows back sobs. He can’t forgive Bruce, he’s tried to kill him himself, why was it any different now? “Thank you, Jason. I love you son.” Bruce rasps, and that’s why. Jason can’t move on because Bruce is right next to him; and he’s alive, and breathing, and Jason is his son.

Tim

𖥔 Tim is scary. He’s seen Bruce worse than anyone ever has. He’s been through it all, he dragged Bruce up from the ground, all while Bruce clawed at him and tried to stay buried. Tim is scary when Bruce is nearly killed, because he will stop at nothing to make it right.

𖥔 Bruce is put into a coma. To the media it was a car accident. To Tim, it was watching Bane snap Bruce’s body over his leg, breaking his spine; nearly killing him. Tim was on auto pilot after it happened, quickly assessing the damage, demanding Oracle to send help, to Nightwing and Red Hood to stage an accident, they need civilian clothes, Bruce Wayne needs immediate medical attention.

𖥔 Tim Drake-Wayne sits in the hospital room, watching Bruce only able to breath because of the machines he’s connected to, body stiff, bruised and cut up, a small incision in his skull to let out the swelling. A medically induced coma to save his life. They’re not even sure if it will save him; time will only tell.

𖥔 Nightwing says he’ll handle it, he’ll get Bane dealt with. Red Hood makes it clear he’ll be killing him now that Bruce can’t stop him. When Dick and Jason visit the hospital room Tim is already gone. Tim has already set his own plan into motion.

𖥔 Robin doesn’t kill because Batman doesn’t allow it, and because Tim fears it would push him over an edge he doesn’t want to face. Tim does not directly kill. Bane’s henchmen and goons are simply in the building when Tim watches it explode from a rooftop a safe distance away.

𖥔 Tim watches as car bombs, and traps that end in blood splatter are tripped, as men stagger into deaths they could’ve easily avoided, I mean really how are these people working for Bane and falling into their own deaths so easily?

𖥔 Over the course of a week they’re all ticked off, like a grocery list. Tim moves quietly, effortlessly. He’s already gone by the time anyone thinks to look. He’s never seen by the time anyone tries to make a guess on who it might be. When Bane is the only one left Tim is reaching his breaking point. It’s been seven days, seven days his father has been comatose, teetering dangerously close to brain dead, to never waking up. Tim sees Bane and his reserves from before are slowly slipping away. He’s never been this angry before.

𖥔 Nobody would believe a witness that says Robin shot Bane point blank and disappeared. Nobody would listen to a bystander that was high off his mind when he swears he heard the kid scream that his father might never recover and it’s all his fault, before spraying the wall with brain matter. Nobody believes Robin would ever do something like that because he’s just an innocent little boy, Batman doesn’t kill, where would he even get a gun?

𖥔 On the ninth day Bruce wakes up, and Tim is beside him, he doesn’t let anyone see him cry, so he only smiles and hugs him; whispering how grateful he is that he’s okay. They call a nurse in, Bruce is groggy but coherent, there’s no damage, no risk.

𖥔 Dick arrives exhausted, having been patrolling as Batman to keep Gotham from being suspicious. He’s still got a smidge of eyeliner not fully wiped off when he hugs Bruce, eyes studying where Tim sits, hands stuffed in his hoodie pocket. He smiles innocently and Dick nods. Tim knows Dick is aware of what he’d done. Tim doesn’t mind that Dick knows, because Tim knows Dick won’t tell anyone, because Tim doesn’t regret what he’s done, and he will do it again if he is pushed to that point.

Damian

𖥔 Damian is never one to be perceived as weak. He will not allow anyone to even think he could ever be weak, he is never weak. Ever. He doesn’t show emotions, he isn’t just some kid. He is a trained assassin, he is stronger than anyone that could challenge him. He is the son of the Bat. He is Robin.

𖥔 Damian’s pride gets the best of him sometimes. It was a simple mission, sure Batman is bleeding but he’s walking it off, telling Damian it’s just a flesh wound, he’ll be fine. They don’t have the Batmobile tonight, and when Bruce reaches to call for it, he falls.

𖥔 Damian is immediately racing to his side. He tries to catch him but he’s too late, and it’s probably for the best because Damian forgets how small he is, and how heavy not only his father is, but the extra hundred pounds of armor in his suit. Damian struggles to push Bruce onto his back, panting as he overlooks him.

𖥔 “Father! Where is your wound?!” Damian shouts. Bruce makes a choked noise as blood drips past his lips. Damian remembers him clutching a side, but he doesn’t know which one, he doesn’t know much right now, his heart is racing, his hands are shaking, and he finally yanks the cape back to see the blood pouring from Bruce’s side. “It probably hit a kidney father why would you insist on it being a flesh wound, do you have any idea how bad this could’ve been if you’d left it??” Damian is still yelling, despite Bruce being unconscious.

𖥔 Damian tears at their emergency gauze with his teeth, he’s applying pressure to the wound, but it’s getting slippery and he stumbles, he’s patched up wounds before, why is this one different? Why won’t the blood stop? Why is he alone with Bruce getting paler and paler with each passing second?

𖥔 Damian is not weak, he does not need help, but he is scared. The blood is not stopping, the gauze isn’t working, Bruce is not responsive. Damian stares at his bloody hands as he starts to panic, hyperventilating as he searches for his emergency beacon, for his comm, for anything. His hands are slipping, he’s covered in blood, he can’t breathe.

𖥔 “Robin I’ve received your signal what’s wrong?” Red Hood’s voice through his ear makes the tears finally fall, and Damian gasps for air. He hears other voices chiming in, everyone live on the comms, and everyone hears him crying.

𖥔 “Robin, deep breath, give us a report.” Nightwing says, they want him to breathe, but they need to know why he can’t in the first place. “Batman is down. I cannot stop the bleeding, I cannot move him on my own. I need immediate help, he is unconscious, and getting critical.” He manages out, throat rough as he tries to swallow, as he stares down at his father as the blood begins to pool to his knees.

𖥔 “I’ve sent his location, Red Robin and Red Hood are the closest. Robin they will be there in three minutes, I’ll help as I can, what happened?” Oracle asks, and Damian takes a shaky breath, relief and guilt overwhelming him, but he hears Nightwing’s voice encouraging him to breathe; and he follows his instructions.

𖥔 Damian tells her everything that happened, what rooftop they’re on, what he did to try and stop the bleeding. While he’s still steadying his breathing with Nightwing Red Hood arrives. As Jason is putting pressure on the wound and instructing Damian to grab gauze, Red Robin arrives, and Tim quickly takes over, leaving Damian sitting and watching as they patch him up in seconds, and Jason is able to lift him up and carry him effortlessly by himself. Red Robin knows him and Robin are not the closest, but Damian is still shaking, and Tim wraps his arm around him and carefully leads him down to where the Batmobile has pulled up. Damian doesn’t speak a word, and the drive is silent once it’s announced over the comms that Batman is secure and inbound to the cave.

𖥔 Damian doesn’t leave his room. He’s embarrassed, ashamed, upset. He was too weak, too defenseless. Bruce lost a lot of blood, if they were any later he might have not made it. Jason was strong enough to lift him, Tim was fast enough to stop the bleeding and wrap him up, all things Damian failed to do in ample time. Even when Alfred notifies Damian that Bruce is awake and well, and would like to see him, Damian does not leave his room.

𖥔 The others give him space, so he’s especially angry when his door creaks open. He looks up with a sharp glare, only for his expression to immediately fall when he sees Bruce slowly limp inside. He’s shirtless and wearing more gauze than skin, holding his side as he carefully steps inside. “Father what are you doing you are on bed rest!” Damian hisses, rushing to his side, he holds one of Bruce’s hands and gently leads him to his own bed; sitting him down. “You wouldn’t come to me.” Bruce smiles as Damian glares again. “I would have, I’ve been busy.” The boy huffs, walking away to distract himself, to not have to see Bruce. He keeps his back to him and pretends to shuffle through papers on his desk. “You know I once fell on Dick when he was Robin?” He suddenly says, making Damian freeze, not responding.

𖥔 “Poor little guy was smaller than you, damn near squished him like a bug. It’s not often Batman falls, but I had a rule with every Robin, if I do, step out of the way. If I’m down, call for help. I would never expect one of you to be able to gather me up on your own.” Bruce hums, and the backs of Damian’s eyes sting as he listens. “I’m sorry for worrying you, and I’m sorry you were alone.” Bruce adds, and Damian faces him, using anger to mask the tears welling in his eyes. “I’m Robin, I’m Batman’s partner, I need to be stronger, I need to be able to be alone.” He sneers, he’s only angry at himself, but he needs to get it out; and he needs to tell it to Bruce, he needs to prove he’s not weak. “You’re also my son. And eleven years old. You cannot be expected to carry a full grown man that’s bleeding out, nine miles on your own. I wouldn’t expect that of any Robin-“ “Todd and Drake seemed to be able to do it perfectly fine.” He spits, his jealously finally mixing in.

𖥔 “Neither of whom are Robin anymore. Jason who’s taller and bigger than me? Tim who’s seven years older than you? They wouldn’t have been able to do it when they were Robin either. It is not a weakness of yours, it is not a weakness of your age, it is simply that you are a boy, and you cannot lift a grown man, I couldn’t lift myself at your age.” He says, laughing as Damian swallows thickly, still not accepting it. Bruce extends his hand, and Damian takes a few steps closer, still looking anywhere but at his father. “You are not weak my son, you should not be disappointed by last night, you were able to call for help when you needed it, you saved me. I couldn’t be more proud.” He says; pulling Damian into an unwilling hug. The boy is stiff, but doesn’t move out of fear of hurting him.

𖥔 “I will be stronger next time.” He whispers; and Bruce hums, kissing the side of his head. “You will be. I will too. You are the son of Batman, hold your head high, you are not weak.” Bruce whispers, and it’s the most comforting thing he can offer Damian, speaking to him the way he knows he needs to hear. Damian will be stronger, Damian won’t let himself lose his father.

Barbara

𖥔 Babs strong suit was being behind a screen. It was what she was best at, better than anything. She loved it, she loved helping people, making a difference, getting to see it all unfold and see people saved again, and again. She held her title as Oracle with pride. Batman wouldn’t be nearly as successful as he is every mission without her. Well, he might be able to be successful, but it wouldn’t be as fast if Babs wasn’t behind him already getting it all done before he has the time to even ask. She prides herself in being a needed ally, more than just a side player that helps occasionally. Batman often offered her the same encouragements, and acknowledges her hard work, and how much she helps them all.

𖥔 It was supposed to be a quiet patrol. Bruce is by himself tonight, Damian is sleeping, Tim is with the titans, Dick is in Blüdhaven, and she’s casually finishing some case files while Bruce sits and watches the city, both of them enjoying the quiet night.

𖥔 Barbara is scared into focus by the sound of an explosion. “Bats??” She asks, quickly typing away, pulling up his footage, and zeroing in on whats in front of him. Bruce moves like he’s injured, a villain attacks him. They’re wearing a mask, she can’t tell who it is. She pulls up the nearby cameras, watching the fight from all angles. She finds where he came from, running the plates and all information on the car, but it reports stolen, and the villain doesn’t match the description as the little old lady that registered it.

𖥔 “Bats talk to me who are these guys?” She calls, pulling up everything she can, Batman hasn’t said a word, and she knows he’s injured, she sees him lose his balance, she hears the scuffle, the back and forth, and then everything goes dark. Every last camera and screen is black. “Bat!” She shouts, trying to pull it all back up. It’s not her system, everything else is working fine, but those few cameras she needs, her comm with Batman, all of it is dark.

𖥔 She stares forward in shock, what the hell happened? She tries not to panic over losing Bruce, assuring herself it’s just some alleyway goon that Bruce will have handled in minutes, so she tries to dive into who this is. She runs everything, vocal recognition, pulling up the neighboring cameras to search for who this is, where they came from, how they snuck up on Batman.

𖥔 Everything leads to a dead end. Barbara curses and slams her hands on the desk, anger overcoming her as her heart starts to beat faster. Why has Bruce still not told her he’s okay? Why hasn’t he fixed the comm, or found a way to send her a signal. Everything’s okay, bad guys apprehended, I’m fine. Where was her reassurance? Batman never goes dark like this, and the fact that everything is turned off from her is terrifying.

𖥔 She pulls up any possible lead she has, anything that could connect her to this, anything they could use. She thinks she’s finally found something when a camera pulls back up; and she gasps, Batman is laying on the floor, not moving, blood underneath him. Then the camera goes black again. Her whole screen is black and she can see her reflection in it, staring in her own eyes. Her hair is down, and the dark of the screen hides her features from her view, and she cries. If she was Batgirl she could help Bruce, she wouldn’t be here defenseless, grasping at straws as Bruce lays at a villains mercy. She doesn’t know if he’s even still alive, if he’s still breathing, she’s just sitting here while Bruce suffers.

𖥔 Barbara has never felt less than the others just because she worked from the safety of the watch tower, she never felt like she wasn’t as vital to them, to helping. But now she does. She’s scared, she’s angry, why can’t she just help him.

𖥔 “Oracle?” Jason’s voice echoes over the comms, and she sighs shakily. “Bat is down, I’ve lost all communication, and all nearby cameras went dark. I’ve just sent you his address, can you get to him?” She asks, voice weak as she stares at a map, seeing where Jason is, only a few miles from Bruce. “On my way. Who is it?” He asks, and her throat is thick as she stares at the screen. “I don’t know. I couldn’t figure it out.” She rasps, it’s humiliating to say out loud, it makes her sick. She doesn’t know, she’s supposed to know. She’s the one that always knows.

𖥔 “All done, Bats is good.” Jason’s voice shocks her. “Wait what??” She replies, and the cameras are all live again, she sees the goons unconscious on the floor. Jason has Bruce’s arm slung over his shoulder. He looks directly at a camera and waves. “They had an interceptor or whatever, knocked everything offline. B might have a headache but he’s fine, they were just some thugs trying to get a jump on him. Gcpd’s already closing in, but I’m bringing some tech back, one of ‘em had something that looks like a homemade vertigo headband, can you look into it?” He asks, and she sniffles, hastily wiping at her eyes. “Sure can; bring it on down.” She sighs, relief washing over her. Bruce is okay, she’s back online, everything is okay.

𖥔 Bruce sits with Barbara as she types everything into a file. He’s benched until his concussion heals, and she’s putting it all into files to save in the bat computer if the thugs he fought ever become a problem again. “You did good.” Bruce compliments as she saves it all. “Hm?” She responds, glancing at him. “With your system going dark, you did good, you still led Jason right to me, still got it all resolved. Thank you.” Bruce says, and she smiles, pride welling in her chest as she nods, facing the computer again. Despite her worries and fears, she didn’t need to be Batgirl to help him, Oracle was who got Red Hood to Batman and helped even when it all went dark; she still did her job, and she did damn good at it.

Steph

𖥔 Steph is an accident with a bat symbol on her chest. She doesn’t try to be, but her need to prove herself, and her fear of her fathers footsteps makes her jump the gun, it makes her so desperate for validation she cuts corners, and makes things messy. She really doesn’t try to, and because she’s so young and anxious she doesn’t realize what she’s done until it happens, and then she’s humiliated and knows she will be looked down upon even more after.

𖥔 So it’s only fitting that one time she cuts corners, it ends with Bruce unconscious, head bleeding, arms still wrapped around Steph from where he’d shielded her with his own body. Steph was not supposed to be on the ground, this was a simple mission, Robin was supposed to be his eyes in the sky, not trying to assist him, not getting herself caught, not getting stuck in an exploding building where Bruce himself gets caught in the explosion to protect her from it.

𖥔 Her need to prove herself is out the window when she shoves Bruce off of her, gasping violently as she sees the way his body rolls limply, the way he doesn’t move, the way his cowl is dripping blood and it’s begun to pool underneath him. She took on this mantle, she wanted to prove she wasn’t like her father, she wanted Bruce to see value in her, and now he might be dying because of her.

𖥔 No, no, no, no. Steph is yanking his cowl off, wincing as his head hits the ground again, making a wet noise from the blood already spilling from it. “Hey, Hey Bat? Cmon, wake up now.” She pleads, voice shaking as she presses gauze to the wound, watching it immediately turn red, she swaps it for a new piece and takes a shaky breath, looking around them. The goons left when they set the bomb, they knew Batman would be too busy trying to save Girl wonder that they could escape, so they’re alone, the Batmobile has already been called to them, so Steph stands and hooks her arms under Bruce’s, yanking upward.

𖥔 She struggles, and pants and cries, but she manages to shove him ungracefully into the car, panic beginning to overwhelm her as she jumps into the drivers seat, fiddling with the shifts and buttons she’s still not too familiar with. Thankfully it has auto-pilot, and kicks itself into gear, speeding down the road as Steph taps at the screen, blood smearing across it. “Hey A, B is hurt real bad. Are you home?” She asks it casually, laughing as her panic rises up her throat, her heart racing as she glances at Bruce.

𖥔 “Yes, I will be waiting in the cave.” Alfred responds, and she swaps the gauze on his head, tears finally starting to fall as she looks at his face. Did she really let Bruce die just because she wanted to be strong? Bruce is bleeding out just because she wanted to prove she was different, prove she could do it. “I’m sorry B.” She sobs. She just wanted to make him proud, she wanted him to care for her the way he cares for his sons, even when she keeps him at arms length and doesn’t let him view her as one of his kids. She doesn’t want a dad. She told them. She has a dad and he’s a bad person and she’s going to prove she isn’t.

𖥔 “I’m sorry dad.” She rasps, staring at Bruce’s face as they come to a screeching halt in the cave. Alfred has Bruce laid on a table and the bleeding has stopped within four minutes. Steph sits, still bloody and crying as Alfred moves fluidly around her, getting Bruce stable, assuring her he is just fine.

𖥔 When Bruce wakes up Steph hands him her Robin costume. He furrows his eyebrows and takes it, still confused. “I almost got you killed trying to prove myself.” She tells him; and he sighs, opening his mouth to respond, but she stops him. “I can’t follow orders, I endangered you, I endangered myself. I can’t be Robin, I can’t live up to what they were, and I don’t want to. I’ll prove myself to you, and I won’t let you get hurt because of me just to do it.” She sounds mature, less scared. Bruce sets the suit down and nods once. “I do not regret doing what needs to be done to save you. I would do it again.” Bruce responds. Scolding her for not following orders seems pointless now, she’s no longer Robin; and she acknowledged her own fault, he doesn’t need to double down, especially not when she’s dealing with her own regret and fears after what happened. “I’m still sorry. I’ll be better.” She rasps, and Bruce hugs her, petting her hair gently as she fights back the tears burning behind her eyes. She’ll prove herself right this time.

Cass

𖥔 Cass stops. She’s always been the quickest one, the slyest, the one to get in and get out and have it not just done, but done good. Cass is untouchable, unbreakable, an unstoppable force hell bent on saving innocent people and protecting the world from the horrors that others bring upon them. Cass is strong because other people aren’t, and they need her to be for them. Gotham needs her.

𖥔 So when she’s fighting, she’s taking out bad guys and escorting hostages out of a burning building, she ends up cornered, hiding a little girl behind her as a goon points a gun at her. “I’ll tell you what little bat, her life for yours. You wanna walk away? Give me the girl. I’ll make sure you don’t have to see.” The man taunts, something sick bubbling in Cass’ gut, fighting down her anger as she analyzes his stance, trying to figure out how to disarm him without a stray bullet possibly hitting the girl.

𖥔 Batman drops down in front of them before she can do anything, giving her a distraction so she can run. She grabs the girl and takes off, hearing them fighting as she goes. She finds an exit and rushes out it, flames dancing inches from them as she runs toward the other hostages, carefully setting the little girl down, she turns back to the building, seeing fire already blocking the exit she just came out from. She wraps her cape around herself and rushes forward, already a step back inside, the fire sizzling around her, and the building explodes. She’s thrown backward, ears ringing as she tries to get back up, adrenaline pumping faster than ever.

𖥔 She hears the people crying, arms shaking as she pushes herself up, only to fall again. Bruce was still in there. She shakily looks up, staring at the rubble ahead of her, gasping for air as she staggers to her feet. Bruce, Bruce. She’s chanting his name, she can’t find her voice, opening and closing her mouth repeatedly, and she lets out a pained cry as she falls to her knees, staring forward helplessly as the red flames dance in her eyes.

𖥔 “Batman?” The little girl from before stands in front of Cass, tears welling in her eyes as Batgirl looks up at her. Cass knows she’s needs to check the hostages, make sure everyone’s okay; count and see if anyone died in the explosion. But she knows part of that answer already, Bruce was still inside, she was too late going back in to save him, he was in there because she let herself get backed into a wall and he had to save her. He got left behind because of her.

𖥔 Cass sits back on her heels, staring at her hands blindly. Now what? What could she do? What was Gotham going to do without having a Batman, how many innocent people were going to suffer and die because Batman died for her? How much death is she going to cause? What did it matter that Batgirl survived if Batman didn’t?

𖥔 “Batman!” The little girl says again; and it only hurts Cass worse, looking up through teary eyes, she sees the girl isn’t even facing her, her back it to Cass, and her arm is extended as she points to the building still burning. Batman is walking out of the flames, holding the same goon that had attacked them. He sets the man down once they’re a safe distance, and Cass is already on her feet, running as fast as she can, and jumping into Bruce’s arms.

𖥔 “I’m sorry for worrying you Batgirl.” Batman says softly, he has to keep their identities safe, he has to watch what he says, but they both know by the way he’s hugging her. I’m sorry Cassie, I’m here. She sobs, body shaking as he holds her gently, rubbing her back through the suit. She’s gasping weakly, mouth moving but no words come out. Even though she’s hidden by her mask Bruce knows she’s trying to speak.

𖥔 “Easy, you’re alright.” He says, setting her down so they’re looking at one another, and she holds onto his arms desperately. “Dad. Safe.” She manages out, and Bruce nods, hugging her again as she cries quietly. They’ll eventually have to pull away and assess the situation, but right now the hostages are okay, and Cass needs to be held by her dad for a little while longer.

Duke

𖥔 Duke working during the day means things are a lot different for Signal than they are for the bats. He has his usual route to patrol, he knows the ins and outs of this city, he knows which places are most commonly victim to robberies and petty crimes, it’s not an easy job, but he enjoys doing it, he enjoys helping people.

𖥔 Duke hasn’t had to stop or fight anyone today. There haven’t been any robberies, no purse or car thief’s, only a stray dog begging for some of his granola bar, it was quiet. Duke sits on a rooftop checking the time and seeing his patrol is almost over, it wouldn’t hurt if he went home half an hour before usual today, nothings happened, he’s sure nothing will happen in these thirty minutes, right?

𖥔 It’s almost like the universe was waiting for him to be ready to head home, because he hears an alarm ringing from a few buildings away. He hurries that way, face falling as he sees several men running out of a bank, carrying bags full of money. He grapples to them, pulling a baton from his utility belt, he’s about to land on the ground when he hears someone scream for help.

𖥔 “He’s hurt someone help!” A woman inside the bank cries out, and Dukes face falls as he looks at them, there’s someone injured, he weighs his options of stopping the thief’s first, or helping the injured person, but as he looks at the man laying on the ground, the air is knocked out of him. “Bruce.” He gasps, rushing over, forgetting about the thief’s as they speed off and disappear, he skids to a stop at Bruce’s side.

𖥔 Bruce Wayne is unconscious on the floor of the bank, bleeding out of a bullet wound in his stomach. “Bruce!” Duke cries out, rushing to his side. This isn’t Batman injured in a fight, or hurt by a villain. This is Bruce Wayne, out in the lively hours of Gotham, getting shot in a bank robbery. “Mr. Wayne, can you hear me? Sir?” Duke yanks his gloves off and checks for a pulse. When he feels one he immediately starts applying pressure to the wound. “He stood between them and me, it’s all my fault.” The girl sobs, she’s clearly a bank teller, her hands and skirt covered in Bruce’s blood.

𖥔 Duke is in full panic, he’s Signal right now, he’s not Bruce’s newest ward, he’s not tending to an injured Batman. Signal the vigilante is helping Bruce Wayne, the prince of Gotham; a stranger. “Hang in there sir, you’re gonna be okay.” Duke forces his voice to sound controlled, despite the way something sits in his throat, tears stinging behind his eyes.

𖥔 A crowd has formed now, hushed whispers and shocked gasps surrounding him as he pushes harder on the wound, his hands begin to shake, Bruce’s skin is losing color, there really is a lot of blood around them. Getting shot isn’t nearly enough to take down Batman, he would walk it off. But Bruce Wayne hasn’t even woken up, how long has it been now? Duke feels sick, breathing shaky as he wraps the wound.

𖥔 Thankfully someone had called 911 because Duke can hear the sirens, and an ambulance pulls up seconds later. He’s gently pulled back, and Bruce is lifted onto a gurney. “Thank you kid, we’ll take it from here.” An emt tells him, and then they take off with Bruce, leaving Duke alone, leaving the vigilante standing there, covered in blood, with a hundred eyes on him. “T-Thank you, you saved him.” The bank teller whispers, Duke helps her to her feet, moving on autopilot as he stares at his own hands, skin crawling as tears sting behind his eyes. He only nods, disappearing onto the rooftop, and running away.

𖥔 He informs the others, and by that night the thieves are caught by Red Robin and Spoiler, and Duke lies in his bed, he’s in his pajamas, he’s showered, but he stares at his hands and sees the red dripping from them, he feels the weight of Bruce’s body, limp and unmoving, he feels himself clinging to his fathers body, and having to act as a stranger, having to keep their identities separate, and not knowing if he would survive. If that killed him, Dukes last moment with him would’ve been as strangers, being watched by hundreds of eyes, and thousands more from the videos circulating.

𖥔 There’s a soft knock on the door and Duke hums, watching through tired eyes as Alfred walks inside, sets down a phone, and walks out before Duke can say anything. The screen is black so Duke only stares, confused until he hears a throat clear. “Duke?” Bruce’s voice rings through the phone, and the boys tears finally fall, hands shaking as he picks up the phone. He has a moment of fear that he’s going to get blood on it, but has to remind himself that there’s no blood on his skin anymore, he’s sure there still is on Bruce’s

𖥔 “Hey kiddo.” Bruce says when Duke doesn’t respond. “Hi.” He manages to rasp, and Bruce hums at the acknowledgement. “You did really good today.” Bruce says, and Duke cries harder, holding his head in his hands as he stays quiet so Bruce can’t hear. “I know it doesn’t feel like it, and I know you’re beating yourself up, but you did exactly as you should’ve. You let the thieves go to help the victim, you kept the victim stable until medical professionals arrived, you had the situation handled so the thieves were caught. You did everything wonderfully Signal.” Bruce compliments, and then a sob escapes Dukes lips, Bruce doesn’t say anything else and Duke sniffles. “It wasn’t an innocent bystander it was you.” He huffs, a bite behind his words as his own failure weighs him down, despite the fact that he didn’t fail at anything, he did everything he was supposed to do.

𖥔 “And it was you Duke. I’m safe because of you.” Bruce says, and the boy huffs in anger. “What the hell was I supposed to do? If something worse happened? If that was the last time I saw you? I had to treat you like Bruce Wayne; I had to be a stranger.” He says, hurt bleeding through his words, and Bruce hums softly. “Your suit doesn’t mean anything Duke, it is still you inside of it. A suit will never change who we are, what you mean to me. I was comforted that my son was there, not Signal.” Bruce says, and Duke squeezes his eyes shut, letting more tears fall as Bruce takes a deep breath. “I know how you’re feeling, and I want you to know that you don’t have to feel this way, you saved me Duke, and I will never compare you to your alias.” He says, and Duke sniffles, nodding even though Bruce can’t see him.

𖥔 “They’re letting me come home tomorrow, and I’m benched until I’m healed, so we’ll spend some time together okay? Just us, no suits or names.” Bruce says, and Duke smiles small. “Sounds good.” He responds, sniffling. “Good. Get some rest Duke, everything’s going to be okay.” He assures him, and they whisper their goodnights and hang up. The weight has been lifted off of Dukes chest, and he takes a deep breath, lying back down. Bruce is okay, and so is Duke.

Bruce Wayne has a family that loves him, and doesn’t know how they’d survive losing him. And he knows he wouldn’t survive losing them. That’s what makes their family so perfect.

༺♡♱⋆🦇⋆♱♡༻

This was so fun to write thank you for the request! I love getting to write out Bruce’s relationship with the kids, and had to include all of them for this one, it turned out wayyy longer than planned, had to bring the family together :’). I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. ᡣ𐭩

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