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detectivemarvelingcomics · 8 months

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Not Your Classic Vigilante [Ch. 15]

Alternate Dimension AU TW: Language, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Slight Body Horror, Gore, Graphic Depictions of Monstrous Attacks, Gun Use, Weapon Use, Some Talks About Traumatic Incidents, CW: OC Use, See the OC Guide [Here] Genre: Drama, Action, Angst, Light Comedy Pairing: Batfamily & Batsis!Reader, OC x Reader YN Pronouns: Female (She/Her) Word Count: 11.3K

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Notes: FINALLY SHE'S OUTTTTTTT i'm so sorry for the long wait, loves, I just couldn't for the life of me be satisfied with it until now

Disclaimer: This series is originally by@fandom-meanderer who is a close friend of mine, but she has since fallen out of her Tumblr days and asked me to finish a few series for her, hence why I am now in ownership of the Not Your Classic Vigilante series, I hope I can still live up to her writing as I rewrite this series! (I promise not to change too much, hehe)

2005

Your hand was gripped tightly around your mother’s finger. She was one of a few people you’d ever met growing up and, for the longest time, she was the only one you needed. With you on her right hand and with a backpack filled with your things on her left, she knocked rang the doorbell. When there was no response, she rang it again and continued to do so until it finally opened. An older man stood at the door.

“Pardon me, madam, how may I… assist you?” He hesitates slightly. Your mother moves to the side and gently pulls you toward him and there was a spark of realization on his features.

“I need to talk to Bruce Wayne,” she says. The old man looks behind her before opening the door wider.

“Master Bruce will meet you soon,” the old man says after guiding you both to the foyer. Your mother helps you onto the couch before sitting next to you.

“Mom? Where are we? You tugged at her coat and she folds her hands over her lap.

“A safe place,” she says. You looked around.

“Are we moving here?” Your mother looks away for a moment.

“Yes,” she had a tone about her voice. She was lying. One of the first things she taught you was how to tell someone was lying, she always said it was important because of where you lived, and one of the things you had since noticed is that your mother lied alot, especially recently. You’d been noticing it more often now, she’d always look away from you when she lied and that was how you knew. The both of you have been moving around a lot, staying with different people and checking into different motels, it’s been awhile since you’d stayed somewhere longer than a few days. Every time you would move, your mother would say the same thing: “The monsters found us, we have to move before they get here.” And you, afraid of the monsters, would help her pack as quickly as you could and climb into a taxi next to her.

Your mother lied a lot. And nearly every time it was a lie, and only some times was it the truth. Even her being your mother was a lie. But she takes care of you, and if that didn’t make her your mother you didn’t know what did. You’re not supposed to know this. She only told you one night when you woke up after a nightmare and came to her. She was holding a glass filled with a deep red liquid, and she refused to look at you all night. She looked over at you, laughed, and told you that you looked just like your mother and “may she rest in peace.” You don’t think she knows she told you, so you kept quiet.

“What are our three rules, (Y/N)?” She asks. You look at your hands.

“Listen before entering, look in hiding spaces, and don’t overstay our welcome.”

“Very good.”

Before the conversation could continue, the older man returned.

“Master Bruce will see you in his study.”

“Alright, watch her, please,” Selina puts her hand on your shoulder and you hold onto her hand.

“You’re leaving me?” You looked up at her.

“I’ll be right back,” she rubs the top of your head, “where is it?”

“Up the stairs and five doors down.”

“Sure.” Your mother ascends the stairs, and you remained on the couch. The older man sits next to you.

“If I may, what’s your name?” He asks. You look at him and look away slowly.

“My mom says not to talk to strangers,” you muttered.

“A very good principle,” he says. “My name is Alfred.” You puffed your cheeks.

“(Y/N)… (Y/N) Kyle…” you answered.

“(Y/N), that’s a lovely name,” he says. He grabs a box from the table. “Do you like sweets, (Y/N)?” He opens the box and your eyes widen at the chocolates inside. You nodded your head and picked a chocolate, but you hesitated before eating it.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know if my mom will be happy if I eat this, mister,” you placed the chocolate back. “She says I shouldn’t eat things from other people…”

“Another good principle,” Alfred takes a chocolate and eats it. “As safe as it is delicious,” he says. With a small smile, you grab the chocolate again and eat it, tasting the sweetness all over your mouth and savoring it as long as you could.

“(Y/N)?” Your mother’s voice drew you away from the box. She descended the stairs and, next to her, was a man with a stern expression on his face. You folded your hands on your lap and looked down. Soon, the man crouched in front of you. “Introduce yourself to her first, she knows not to talk to strangers.”

“Hello, I’m Bruce Wayne,” he says. You squeeze your hands together and your mother sits next to you.

“(Y/N), my dear, this is your father,” your mother introduces you. “You’ve been asking to meet him, remember?” You nodded your head. The man looks at your mother for a brief moment before turning back to you. “Why don’t you say hello?” She asks. You’re silent for a moment.

“Where have you been?” You asked him. The man doesn’t answer.

“He’s been very busy, he couldn’t say hello until now,” she answers for him.

“Why?” You look at your mother.

“I… I’ll tell you when you’re older,” she says. You puffed your cheeks and frowned.

“You have to be nice to him, alright? You’ll be staying here from now on.”

“Just me?”

“Just you.”

“Where will you go?” You looked around.

“Back to the apartment, for now,” she says.

“I don’t want you to leave, though,” you frowned. Your mother sighs and Bruce looks at her.

“(Y/N), do you remember when we first started moving? When the monsters came into our home and destroyed your toys?” She asks. You nodded. “Then you understand why you have to stay here,” she says. You did, kind of.

“But what will I do if there’s a stranger in our bed again?” Though you whispered, it was understood by everyone in the room. That was terrifying, seeing someone you didn’t know just waiting in a place you thought was safe. Selina only shared a quick look with Bruce. “Or… what if I get sick from eating again?” You asked her. You felt terrible that day, nonstop throwing up, nothing was kept down, and you think it was the first time you’d seen your mother cry.

“(Y/N), it’s not safe for you to be with me, but here? You will always be safe,” she says. Tears welled up in your eyes. “Your father will keep you safer than I ever could,” she says.

“But… I don’t know these people,” you said between sniffles.

“You will soon, there’s no one you can trust more than these two,” she rubs your back gently and you wrap your arms around her.

“Even you?” You asked against her coat.

“Especially me,” she responds.

“You have to come visit, okay?”

“Of course,” she holds onto you securely.

“You can stay tonight,” the man says. “It’ll be better for (Y/N), I think,” he says. You held onto your mother tighter.

“… I can’t,” she says. And you turned to her, your expression filled with despair.

“You’re leaving me?” The person you had known your whole life, who took care of you, and who raised you… was leaving you.

“Just for now, (Y/N), you have to trust me, okay?” She stands up and you stood up too, holding onto her legs tighter than you ever have. “(Y/N), let go, have I ever lied to you?” Yes, so many times.

“No,” you lied back.

“It’s only temporary, (Y/N).”

“But… Mom!” Tears streamed down your face. She couldn’t leave you. She took a deep breath. “You can’t leave! I’m so scared!” Your voice pierced the stillness of the manor, and everyone stopped. “What if… what if there’s monsters, what if they get me?!” You hid your face in her thigh. She slowly pulled away from you just enough to crouch to your level.

“They won’t, dear, not here. It’s okay to be afraid,” she coos, “but you have to remember that there are people who will protect you.”

“That’s you, right?”

“Of course,” she sighs, “me, and your dad,” she says. Your glance narrowed at her, and you leaned into her ear to whisper.

“Is he really my dad?” Your voice was so quiet that it strained. You could feel your mother tense as she turned her head to look at you. You couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

“Yes, he is,” she says. “I never forget a face,” she quickly adds.

“Do you promise?”

“I swear it.” She wasn’t lying. She looks up at Bruce now. “There’s no one who will keep you safer than him,” she says while standing up. “Be good, (Y/N).” You didn’t look at her. “Take care of her, please.”

“We will see to it that young Miss Kyle is watched over,” Alfred responds. Your mother holds you to her one more time, wiping the tears from your face and pulling her scarf off, she folds it neatly and hands it to you, which you accept with shaking hands.

“We will see each other again, (Y/N),” she says. “You’re (Y/N) Wayne now, do you understand me?” You could only nod.

“Okay,” you shut your eyes and gripped the scarf. And when you opened them again, your mother was gone, and you were standing in a large room with a bed bigger than you’d ever seen and ceilings taller than you’d known. Your father was nowhere to be seen.

“Until we prepare a better room for you, this will have to do,” Alfred says. You looked around, then you approached the closet, opening it slowly and deeming it empty. The curtains were flushed to the wall and were safe, the desk was open enough for you to know that there would be no way for it to be an effective hiding spot, and that left one more place.

But you couldn’t check there.

“Mr. Alfred?”

“Just Alfred is fine, young miss.”

“Could you check under the bed for me?” Alfred only nodded before walking over to it and lifting the comforter. His head touches the ground, seemingly scanning the underside of the bed for a few moments before standing up again.

“No monsters.”

“Promise?”

“I swear it,” he nods and walks to the door. “Just call if you need anything.”

Then he’s gone too.

It’s cold in here.

2022

“So, what’s the verdict, Drake?” Marion looks over the clipboard Tim was writing on.

“It’s smarter than we thought,” Tim says, “it’s displayed critical thinking, problem solving, and memorization, all the three signifiers of high intelligence,” he looks at the daemon. It’s been two weeks since he and Jason had arrived and, while the progress on finding out how to return home has been slow, it’s been moving forward at the very least. Until then, the hardest part was integrating into this new society as if they’d always been apart of it to avoid suspicion.

Tim, at the very least, had a puzzle to keep him busy.

The daemon looked at him and huffed silently.

“You’re crazy, Drake,” Inigo says, “giving the thing a bath.”

“Sure, yeah, but I still have my head on and we can’t study it with spears in its back,” he shrugs. The beast seems to keep its eye on Tim while he circled it, though it made no moves. “How’s research on the tags?”

“Drawing no significant leads,” Marion sighs. “Nico, when does the Captain return?” Inigo huffs.

“Tomorrow, apparently,” he says, “I know she’s been losing her mind in bed.”

“She has tried to escape a few times,” Tim laughs.

“You would know, huh? She do that often when you were growing up together?” Marion asks.

“Oh plenty,” Tim laughs, “and I genuinely couldn’t tell if our dad knew or not, I mean, he had to! It’s not like she was slick about it, Jason and I always caught her,” he laughs.

“You two ever do anything about it?” Inigo asks.

“Nah, just helped her out,” Tim shrugs.

“Rebel kid turned soldier is a pipeline that should be studied,” Inigo shuts the lever as soon as the daemon was back in its cage. The sound of heavy locks moving into place echoed in the chamber.

“I’m going to go check on her, pretty sure she’s already tried to leave,” Tim hangs his lab coat over a chair and raises his hand and Marion dismisses him.

“Good work today, Drake, tell the Captain we said hello- Oh! And before I forget, hand this to her too,” she says while shoving a sealed box in his hands. “It’s fragile. Be careful with it and, I’m sure you know, Captain’s eyes only.” Tim nods and enters the elevator. He looks down at the box. It was wrapped various times in twine and nailed shut with the words ‘FRAGILE’ stamped on top of it. Sure, he trusted you, there must be some ground breaking item in here that would help with the monster outbreak, but he couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling at the back of his head. He turned the box slowly and looked at the label on the side.

Project βαV. Confidential. Tim’s brows furrow for a moment before taking a deep breath. He’s the one to talk, right? About secrets? He wonders what really went through your head those years ago. There were always things he just couldn’t tell you, things he’s always wanted to, but in the interest of your safety he always decided not to. Him and his siblings, they were always talking amongst themselves about things with the league or with Gotham’s underground and you were just there. If Cass wasn't there then no one would have taken the time to explain things to you.

Meanwhile, you laid in bed and stared at the clock next to you. Two weeks of bedrest, the audacity of these people. A lot can happen in two weeks and with you not active who knows what kind of emergencies have happened without you knowing. Sure, the Brigade kept you relatively up to date and you knew for a fact that Aldryn couldn’t keep a secret from you, but the anxiety that came from sitting still is one you weren’t comfortable with.

“This is so ridiculous,” you muttered.

“Almost as ridiculous as you not reattaching,” Carter laughs next to you. You looked under your hospital gown, still seeing the healing bite wound across your chest. At least it was still together, is your immediate thought. You sat up in bed and looked at the folder on the stand next to you.

“Think it’s anything I should be concerned about?” You ask while rifling through its contents. Field reports, updates on monitored areas, practical scores, all what you expected.

“Are you asking if you suddenly having a normal human body is concerning?”

“And it wasn’t before?”

“Well…” Carter shrugs. “What do you think, (Y/N)?”

“Hm,” you shake your head. “I’m just wondering why it’s failing now of all the times.”

“Think it might have something to do with Alex’s assignment?”

“Probably,” you muttered. “I never once considered distance to be a hinderance, or more accurately it’s never been an issue, but with him as acting Captain I should’ve taken it into account,” you muttered.

“And what does he have to do with your ability?” You both look up and see Damian at the doorway. You sighed.

“I had to tell you eventually,” you gestured for him to sit next to you and, once he did, you took another deep breath. “It was during a monster hunt dispatch. I had done plenty of them before, the three of us together were known as the best when it came down to it, but this one was different. It was a rank builder dispatch, if we completed the mission to its fullest extent then we’d get promoted. And everything went well until the monster we were hunting cornered us,” you started to explain.

“Real quick, everything was not well,” Carter cuts in. “I almost lost a leg.”

“This is isn’t about you,” you held a hand up, but your small smile contradicted your tone. “Either way I almost died again, but for whatever reason the royal family insisted I be kept alive. As a result of some forbidden magic, boom, reattachment with the side effect of telekinesis with one specific person,” you shrugged.

“That person being Alex, I assume,” Damian hums.

“Yeah, there’s nothing other than that, though. It’s related to some powerful magic thing that I guess Alex has been studying for some time now,” you tapped your finger against the bedding. “It’s been like this for, what, two years now?” You looked at Carter, who nodded.

“Give or take,” he shrugs.

“So that ability you told me about,” Damian starts the thought.

“Is different from my reattachment, yes,” you finished his thought, “but I don’t like using it.”

“Left her with a nasty nickname,” Carter says.

“I hate that shit, it pisses me off every time I hear it,” you rolled your eyes, and they settled on the door right as you heard a knock. “It’s open.”

“Hey, (Y/N),” Tim walks in with a paper bag in hand. “Carter, Damian,” he acknowledges the other two, “I got you lunch! To celebrate your freedom from a hospital room,” Tim hands it to you and you pulled out the burger.

“Finally, real food,” you could’ve praised Tim right then and there.

“You’re not really going to jump right back in, right?” Carter asks. “You just recovered.”

“I loathe to think about what I missed while in exile.”

“Oh, relax, you were on bedrest.”

“How’s the daemon, Tim? Any leads?” You switched the subject before you could get the migraine.

“Nothing conclusive, just theories,” Tim grabs another chair. “Marion says ‘hi’ by the way,” he says. You looked at Carter and Damian.

“There’s our cue, come on, Damian, I’ll walk with you,” Carter nudges his head toward the door and Damian groans and looks at you.

“Just go with him, Dami.”

“I can keep secrets, you know.”

“I know,” you gestured for him to follow Carter anyway and he huffed before closing the door behind him. After a short while, Tim spoke again.

“Are you 100% sure that they used to be humans, (Y/N)?”

“Positive. One of the ones we fought even spoke, Tim,” you said.

“Okay, okay, yeah, I tried crossreferencing some fur samples with the missing person’s data base here but nothing, no registered sample matches it,” Tim shakes his head. “So… I was thinking,” he pauses.

“Maybe he’s like us?” You whispered.

“Yeah, dropped off here after some traumatic event, but someone got to him first,” Tim leans on his knees now, head propped up by the palm of his hand.

“Let’s talk about it when Alex comes back. I sent him off to do some investigating on some movements we heard in the distant areas, so he’s been monitoring their movements for two weeks now,” you pushed the sheets down and opened the closet next to you before pulling out your uniform.

“Before I forget,” Tim hands you the box. “From Marion.” You looked at it for a moment before opening it. Inside was a smaller box, also wrapped twenty fold in twine. You said nothing while you packed it into your belt. You pulled out the small note inside of it.

You’re insane, Captain. Whatever you’re planning on using this on I hope you realize what it can do. And for god’s sake, don’t you dare use it on yourself. - Marion

You crumpled the note in your hand and tossed it in the trash.

“What is it, (Y/N)?” Tim asks.

“A last resort,” you shrugged. “I’ve been working on it for some time, I was hoping it would be a good pinch tactic if it came down to it, and with these monsters all over the place I’m starting to think it’s time I expidited its production,” you explained. “It’s nothing crazy, you don’t need to worry yourself about it.”

“If you say so, (Y/N),” Tim clears his throat. He didn’t believe you. But, then again, he wouldn’t exactly approve of what was against your hip right now anyway.

Your senior thesis project, you remembered enough of it to continue it here and perfect it, or make it as close to better as whatever crude version of it you had in Gotham. You and Marion were working on it together for almost a year now with various trials and errors, but if she’s giving you this one then this is the closest you’ll get for now.

“Let’s do some field work, Tim, grab Jason and Damian on the way. The Brigaders are spread out right now so I’m going to have to settle for the family trip.”

2006

“Dad?!” Your voice seemed to echo throughout the manor, bouncing on every which wall before you couldn’t hear it anymore. You’d been living at the manor for a few months now, slowly getting accustomed to the new environment while Alfred helped you anytime a camera would flash at your face. Slowly, bit by bit, you got more accustomed to the man your mother claimed was your father, you learned from him, about him, and through him. He was quiet, you noticed, didn’t smile often and didn’t tend to stick around the house for too long either. Most of your days was spent with Alfred, the butler, who often took you outside the manor and taught you a few things you’d have to know. Like the cameras. You hated those. They got in front of your face, blinded you with their lights, and deafened you with their shutters, but Alfred taught you a way to look through them. It was so simple that you were amazed when he told you.

Look straight at the person taking the picture. And suddenly the cameras weren’t scary anymore. The cameras that followed your father around, they never seemed to cease. He was so different from your mother who ducked out of sight and warned you about them, and that constant line of thoughts was always playing on repeat in your head.

You had already wandered the vast extent of it and you’d almost say that you knew it like the back of your hand, amazingly enough.

The only thing you didn’t know was where your dad went during the night, but Alfred always insisted he went to work. Life must be so hard for a CEO.

Alfred told you that you could be like that too someday, if you so wanted.

The manor was larger than you could ever dream of. Despite you having internally mapped the place, there always seemed to be something new if you had the energy to seek it out. But it seemed too big for three people, let alone you. Your echoing voice was just a reminder of the lack of… anyone, really.

Not to mention, it was always so cold. You shivered slightly, rubbing your arms up and down for warmth.

“Dad?” You called for him again and still, nothing. You wanted to ask him to turn the fire on, and you hadn’t seen Alfred all day. You peered over the railing, looking at the ground floor below. “Oh,” you spotted your scarf hanging on one of the light fixtures attached to the wall next to the railing. Perfect timing. Your mom gave it to you before she left your first night here, it was just a small thing of hers that she wanted you to keep, and you thought you’d lost it after tying it to the end of stick and playing baton with it. Looks like you just flung it over the edge at one point. You stood as close to the rail as you could, reaching your small arms through the poles to grab at the fabric, but each time you got closer to it it seemed to move further. You looked behind you, pulling the chair to the edge and climbing ontop of it. You held onto the rail with one hand and, with the other, you made a grab at the scarf, feeling it’s soft material in your hands. “Yes!” You grinned. Then you felt your hand slip down the rail. Then you were falling. Clutching onto the scarf in your hands like it would do something.

“(Y/N)!” Your dad’s voice was beneath you and in moments he caught you. “What were you doing up there?!” His voice was laced with concern. You held the scarf up and he let out a sigh of relief before shaking his head. “That was very dangerous, next time let me or Alfred know you need help,” he says, placing you down gently.

“Sorry, dad,” you looked at ground.

“It’s okay, you know now not to do that though, right?” He asks. You nodded. “Why were you doing something like that anyway?” He looks up, spotting your makeshift stool.

“I was cold,” you muttered. He sighs above you, then takes your scarf and wraps it around you, securing it well enough to stay on.

“That’s it?” You nodded. “In that case, I’ll turn the fireplace on for you,” he walks off and you followed close behind him, watching the backs of his heels to be sure you didn’t tread on them on accident, and finally you were in the office watching him throw logs into the fireplace.

You’d never seen a real one before, and the wood felt rough under your touch.

“Careful,” your father says. Your hands fly off the log and he tosses the last one in before throwing a match inside. You feel him hold your shoulder and push you behind him only slightly before you heard the crackle of fire. You watched it spark to life before engulfing the pile, and you found yourself flinching back at the suddeness of it. Then, near immediately, warmth. “Don’t stand too close to it, you might burn yourself.”

“Okay.”

“You can stay here as long as you want,” he says. You watched him walk back to his desk, his face growing stern as he read through whatever on his computer. You crossed your legs and sat on the ground, reaching toward the fire with open palms to feel it more. “Here, sit on this here, the ground’s cold. And if you need it I brought a blanket,” he left both items next to you. You didn’t even notice him leave, he didn’t make a single sound. You pulled the ottoman toward you and sat down on it instead while holding the blanket in your hands. It was soft to touch, softer than any motel bed you’d slept on, but not as soft as the scarf around you.

You didn’t want to get it dirty.

2022

“Captain Wayne?” Bruce’s eyebrow arched and the child nodded enthusiastically.

“Yessir! Our little village is usually one of the Brigade’s stops on their way to their campaigns. We’re lucky to even get a glimpse of the captain!” The child grins. “If you stick around long enough you’ll be able to catch a look too.” They ran off after that.

“Constantine,” Bruce called him over, but the man was too preoccupied on the phone to do say much.

“Liverpool! Where the hell are you, lad? You sent me the wrong bloody address!” He shouts. “You’ll be here? What in the blazes does that even mean? Fine, fine, I’ll hold you to it, but I don’t remember when you got so bold to make to teacher wait here.” Constantine hung up the phone and turned back around. “What?”

“What are the odds of running into different vesions of ourselves here?” Dick asks.

“Not impossible, I’ll give you that,” Constantine shrugs. “But pretty unlikely too,” he adds after. “Why?” Just then, a newspaper flies into Constantine’s face and when he peeled it off he quickly read the headline. “Oh…” he mutters and hands it over to the boys.

“In the wake of daemon attacks Captain Wayne says the Brigade has it handled during hospital stay,” Dick reads the opening sentence. “Doesn’t sound like they have it handled.”

“And that’s why I got called here, probably,” he shrugs.

“Constantine,” a new voice enters the conversation.

“Liverpool!” Constantine spreads his arms wide with an even wider grin. “Look at you, lad, Zee says hi, by the way.”

“She here?” Alex leans over to look behind him, but instead makes eye contact with Dick. “Oh no…”

“What?” Constantine looks behind him.

“Alex?!” Dick’s jaw was nearly on the floor.

“Long time no see, Mr. Wayne,” Alex greets Bruce first.

“Alexander,” Bruce clears his throat uncomfortably. Alex’s hand rests on his chest for a moment before he relaxes again.

“We have a bit of a monster problem,” Alex says quietly. “Let’s go somewhere private,” he nudges inside of one of the homes and the men follow him. “Take a seat anywhere, this is the Knighthood’s outpost,” he says.

“Little shabby,” Constantine wipes the dust off the table.

“Our treasurer got eaten by a daemon,” Alex saids chidingly. He tosses a circular device on the table and a hologram appears from it, displaying a monster they had never before seen. “This is just one variant of them, we have this one in captivity right now and it’s being studied. But it’s traits greatly differ from others we’ve encountered,” he says.

“And how many is that?” Bruce asks.

“Enough,”Alex grimaces. “We haven’t been able to track where they come from, they’ve been found all over the continent razing villages to the ground and taking out whole squadrons. At first we were able to keep it under wraps but recently it happened too close to the capital, now the media’s all over it,” Alex shakes his head.

“Shocking you kept these nightmares out of the public eye for so long,” Constantine mumbles while he leans forward to take a closer look. “Either way these things are new to me,” he says.

“You haven’t the slightest idea on what it is? Science is hardly working on this thing, I was so sure it was magic,” Alex continues.

“It would help me more if I saw it up close,” Constantine says.

“If my theory’s right then you will soon,” Alex says quietly. Constantine straightens.

“What do you mean by that?” He asks gravely. Alex changes the hologram.

“If this pattern of attacks is to be followed then this is the next village they’re going to attack,” he says quietly. Dick steps up.

“What’s the plan then?”

“Wait until the captain gets here,” Alex responds, “our elite squad is spread out right now, but they’re ready to respond to an emergency. Our captain is on the way right now so we’ll discuss it once enough people are here, but I’d say we have a night to prepare. Once I get the manpower I’ll start evacuations, I’ve already sent notice of it to the headwoman so everyone should be preparing now,” Alex reports, his hand over his heart before he beats on it a few times.

“And what should we do?” Constantine asks.

“Help? Watch? Whichever comes naturally,” Alex shrugs.

“Any briefing at all? Weak points? Strengths? Things to avoid?” Dick pressures him.

“Before, yeah, but the daemons have become so specialized that our original modus operandi doesn’t work anymore. It’s like they all mutated overnight,” Alex shakes his head. “This whole monster problem has gotten out of hand, and from the pressure coming from the royal family the entire knighthood is on a tight schedule, and we’re running out of manpower fast, I don’t think we can sustain things by blind fighting anymore, but our strategies are always upended when a new daemon comes in. Just two weeks ago we had one that controlled the weather, for christ’s sake, it almost ripped the captain in half when another daemon suddenly learned empathy and saved us all,” Alex holds a hand to his head now.

“So, you’re desperate,” Constantine says.

“Extremely,” Alex shakes his head. “Onto other matters, why the entourage?”

“I figured a little extra manpower couldn’t hurt,” Constantine shrugs. “Why?”

“Well…” Alex whistles, but is cut off by the sudden roar outside.

2008

You are awoken suddenly by the crash of glass on your floor, and the shock of it all was enough to make you scream. You held onto your blanket, clutching it tight within your hands as you crawled toward the edge of your bed, and in an instant you gasped.

And so did Dick.

“This isn’t my room,” he says between pants. You were quick to rush out of the safety of your covers and to his side. He was covered in bruises and shallow cuts, probably more from the glass than anything else, whatever happened to him. But… you could help. Your mom used to come home with bruises too, she’s walked you through how to help her and what to use, you just wondered if there were any in the manor. Or even Alfred, you could call him for help.

“What happened to you?! Who did this?! I can help you,” you brushed the glass off of him and winced when it cut your hand only slightly.

“Whoa! Careful there, (Y/N),” he takes your hands now, observing the cut.

“What about you?” You pulled your hands out of his grasp and reached over to him, but he caught your hands again instead.

“I’m fine, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he struggles to stand up and you tried to help him, but he got up himself. You drew your hands back, clasping them in front of you instead. “I’m sorry, (Y/N),” he says. You looked at him now.

“You’re… you’re Robin?” You asked him. You looked at your walls, crude drawings of the boy wonder littered it. You idolized him, Robin, the sidekick to the dark caped crusader all the boys at school raved about, and there you were, becoming a fan of the boy who helped him.

And here Dick was, someone you considered your older brother after two years of living together, beaten up and wearing the iconic insignia.

“It’s… it’s just a costume, (Y/N),” he says. You shook your head and stood up.

“You’re going to lie to me too?” You looked away from him. Everyone lied to you. And you thought at least he wouldn’t.

“I…” he rubs his arm, wincing slightly. “(Y/N), I’m so sorry,” he says. “I was just playing around with a few friends and we got out of hand, don’t tell Bruce, please.”

“Okay,” you shook your head again, grabbing your blanket that had fallen next to the bed and climbing back on top of it. Dick wiped his face of whatever dirt got on it and looked at you. You pulled your blanket up and over your head.

“I’m sorry.” He repeats. You should’ve known. And maybe a part of you did know. When you saw the videos of Robin doing amazing acrobatic feats, the very same Dick would show you, maybe you did know. And when you would tell Dick how much you liked Robin, when you’d show him the drawings, you wondered what he was thinking.

You wondered if your dad knew.

So here you were, eating breakfast with the both of them. Dick across from you, your dad at the head of the table, and you. It had been a few days since the incident, and neither your nor Dick brought it up. Now, though, you can hear him entering his room early in the morning, his room which was right next to yours, and now you check every morning if he was in there.

“So, (Y/N), I hear you have a test today,” Bruce breaks through the silence.

“Yeah,” you nodded, playing with your eggs.

“What’s it on?”

“Spelling,” you mumbled.

“You’re good at that.”

“I think so, yeah.”

“Is there something on your mind?” He asks, his eyes sliding to you. You looked up from your eggs and glanced at Dick before looking at him.

“Nope,” you shook your head and chugged down the rest of your milk. “I have to go to the bathroom.” You placed it on the table and folded your hands on your lap.

“You haven’t finished your breakfast.”

“I’m full.”

“(Y/N).”

“And I really need to pee.”

“Okay, go ahead, you’re excused,” he says. You rushed off before you could let the cat out of the bag. You’re lying to your dad, great. Not telling is also lying, your mother always said, but it had to be a little better than just… completely lying, right? Plus, you didn’t want Dick to get in trouble, how many times has he helped you out? You could help him out, even if you were a little mad at him. You hid behind the wall, wanting to catch any conversation they have. “Dick.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s good that the two of you get along well, but I hope you know she’s still my daughter,” Bruce says.

“I know.”

“So you understand that I know you two are hiding something, right?” He says. You held your breath and peeked over the wall, his back was still turned to you. “Which is fine, I suspected you two would eventually, as long as it doesn’t hurt her or interrupt that business, it’s fine,” he says. Dick nods, catching your glance only quickly before clearing his throat. Did he know too? Your dad? That Dick was Robin?

“It’s neither of those, sir, I promise,” he looks at the clock on the wall, “and we should probably get going to school too,” he says.

“You’re right, I’ll see you both at home later,” Bruce stands up first and Dick follows. You rushed to the foyer before your dad could catch you eavesdropping and you hauled your book bag up from the floor.

“Whoa, what do you have in there?” Dick walks up behind you and opens the door for you.

“So… many… books,” you threw it into the back seat of the car.

“For school?”

“For fun,” you sighed. You pulled one out and handed it to him.

“American Girl?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“Uh… sure, okay,” he shrugs. “Why don’t we keep them in here for now and you can just carry one,” he pulls the stack out of your bag except for one and you reached over and grabbed another.

“Just in case I finish that one,” you say.

“Fair enough,” he shrugs. The car slows to a start and Dick glances at the closed window that separated the two of you from the chauffer. “Thanks, by the way.”

“For?”

“For keeping my secret,” he says quietly.

“Yeah…”

“I’m sorry I lied to you, I just got scared,” he says.

“I know, I would’ve been scared too,” you nodded. You played with the handle on your bag. “But if you ever need help… just ask, okay?”

“I should be saying that to you,” he nudges your softly and you smiled.

“Just don’t get hurt too bad, okay? And… and you have to tell me the coolest stories,” your eyes shone.

“What? You still like Robin even though you know I’m him?” He scoffs.

“Are you kidding? I like him even more now!” You defended. “I always thought you were cool, but now you’re even cooler,” your voice was filled with awe.

“Yeah, yeah, you think everything I do is cool,” Dick laughs.

In the front, meanwhile, Bruce seemed to let out a sigh of relief, prompting Alfred to chuckle.

“God, I was so worried it was something worse,” he says.

“As I’ve told you before, Master Bruce, they’re as thick as thieves, those two,” Alfred says. “Although, you don’t think this will become a problem in the future?”

“What? Her knowing Dick’s Robin?”

“Precisely.”

“As long as she doesn’t get into danger,” he says, “there’s no harm from it.”

“But you worked so hard to separate her from the Batman, and here she is with a direct line to him now.”

“Dick knows what he’s doing,” Bruce sighs, “plus, maybe it’s safer for her to know.”

“And will you ever tell her?”

“Eventually, if she hasn’t figured it out already.”

“Do you think she will?”

“She’s a sharp girl. Selena raised her well.”

“I worry about what she had to go through before she came to us,” Alfred looks into the monitor near him, watching Dick tell a story with exaggerated hand movements and you being more engaged in it than he’s ever seen. “She looks happier now.”

“I hope she is,” Bruce doesn’t look up from his phone. Alfred steals a quick glance at it and spots the American Girl dolls on his screen. Alfred couldn’t stop the satisfied chuckle this time.

2022

“Oh we are so fucked,” Jason’s hands drop to his sides when he saw the fires.

“Shit… they’re earlier than we predicted,” you shot a quick text to the other Brigade members. “And we might have another issue on our hands too,” you watched the daemon freeze over the landscape.

“What, the mutants?” Tim shudders.

“No, them,” you nodded forward, spotting Dick electrocute a smaller daemon.

“Shit,” Damien grumbles.

“Shit,” Jason scoffs.

“What’s the plan, (Y/N)?” Tim asks.

“Uh… don’t die,” you shake your head, “and get any survivors out. I’ll rendezous with Alex first and figure out a better plan from there,” you drew your rapier and scanned the field. One, two, three… four of them.

“Captain?” Your earpiece crackled and you pressed down on it.

“Alex, give me a run down,” you watched your brothers each tackle a different daemon.

“One with ice, one normal one, two with super strength, and one with wings.”

“One with wings?” Your face contorted into one of confusion. Until something grabbed you and left you airborne.

“(Y/N)!” Jason called after you.

“Oh fuck,” you grabbed onto the daemon’s claws that dug into your shoulders. Your breathing quickened, the air growing thinner the higher up you got, and you swallowed your thoughts down and reverted to plain instinct. It roared above you and you pulled yourself up and onto its back, looping the rapier around it’s neck and locking it in place with your arm in an attempt to strangle the bird-like monster. Ignoring the stinging pain in your shoulders, the daemon flapped erratically until it took a nosedive, and you held your place as best you could with the wind blowing against you, all you could do was brace for impact. As soon as the bird hit the ground, the earth around it caved in, you felt the shock run through your bones and you felt the fragments inside of your body before they ultimately, painfully, reconnected to each other, and you stood up, dragging your rapier with you and smoothening down your hair. The bird twitched under you and you dug your sword into its heart, pulling the tag from its neck. CH-95. You staggered back, feeling the crunch in your bones and holding back the wince. You never get used to it.

“Just a second!” You held your hand out, catching your breath. This is wrong. Alex was practically right next to you, you should be reattaching with ease, but you weren’t. You were just surviving.

“(Y/N)? Jesus, fuck, holy shit,” Dick let out a string of curses while he helped you up, but he quickly slowed his movements as soon as he had felt the jelly that was your arm. “God, why the hell did Jason bring you here?” He muttered under his breath and you stopped.

“Excuse me?” You looked up at him and pulled your wrist from his grasp, standing up tall and closing your hand into a fist once it had finally finished mending together. You stretched out your fingers now, making sure the mobility was just right. “Like you know what’s going on,” you told him.

“(Y/N) you’re not trained for combat, this is dangerous, hell, one of them just grabbed you and launched you in the sky,” Dick shouts. “Get out before you get hurt,” he eyes your arm, a quick look of confusion danced over his features when he saw it balled into a fist once more.

“Did you not just see how I killed this thing?! What the hell do you think I’ve been doing for three years?! Don’t tell me you bought my bull shit story about that lab! Obviously I was making myself fucking useful!” You didn’t know why you felt the need to argue, now was not the best time to be doing this. “I should be asking you why you’re here!” Maybe it was because you felt like you had something to prove.

“I’m here to bring all of you back home!” Dick shouts. “And instead, somehow, Bruce and I get roped into this monster business and I definitely wasn’t expecting to see the four of you here,” he says. He looks over to the side, seeing Jason and Tim bring one of them down. “You especially, you’re a civilian, (Y/N), get somewhere safe,” he says. You took a deep breath. He wouldn’t know. He doesn’t know the shit you’ve been through, and you had to be fair towards him because of that. But god is he pissing you off, you didn’t even know how you tolerated this behavior before you died and you definitely don’t want to deal with his holier-than-thou-I’m-the-best-leader attitude now.

“I don’t have the time or the fucking patience to deal with you right now, Dick,” you shook your head.

“Captain!” Alex’s voice was loud and you tore your attention away from Dick who was rambling again about how you shouldn’t be here. Alex tosses you your rifle, something that probably fell from your figure when you were unceremoniously turned into an aircraft. One thing you learned quick, even before the transmigration, was how to tune out sounds you didn’t want to hear. So, just as easily as usual, you loaded the rifle and aimed it toward the daemon that Jason and Damian were struggling with and you took the shot. The bullet pierced through it’s head and the beast as stunned long enough for the two to finish it off.

“Thanks, (Y/N)!” Jason shot you a thumbs up and you rolled your eyes while slinging the rifle behind you. You turned back to Dick, no words were exchanged, but the silent conversation was enough for you to figure out what he was thinking. He was pissed. But so were you, so… where did that leave you?

“Got a plan, Lex?” You looked over to Alex.

“I’m going for the ice one, don’t think we can have the newer two on it,” Alex was already running off, joining Constantine in his struggle while Jason had pushed the remnants of a wall off of a few survivors.

“Move over!” You had turned back to Dick to settle the argument, but when you saw the daemon fast approaching you shoved him out of the way instead, and you very nearly got caught in its rampage by just a hair. You ran toward it now, you couldn’t let it run amok any longer with the possibility of heavy civilian casualties, but the stinging pain from your steps was making it hard to focus on anything other than that.

“Help!” The shrill voices of survivors always found a way to be louder than others, and you turned to them quickly, seeing the children hidden behind the broken wooden foundations. Could you even get to them on time in this state? Everyone else is too far to get to them.

And for god’s sake, don’t you dare use it on yourself. Marion’s note appeared in your head. But you’d always meant to use it on yourself, you just couldn’t find the right formula, you couldn’t nail the correct combination that wouldn’t end up with you combusting after taking it. Until now, you fed it to the test specimen and told Marion to keep a close eye on it and, after two months of controlled dosages, the specimen was still alive. But you understood why she was afraid, she was a woman of science and she knew that its boundaries shouldn’t be tested. But you’ve seen it work before, and you knew you could make it better. Hell, you have a degree in this. You have to put it to work at least once, right?

Fuck it. You ripped the package open and pulled out the green vial.

Tim, meanwhile, was the one in shock. βαV, that was the name written on that package, and seeing its effects put two and two together. Bane and Venom.

You never got over that, did you?

“(Y/N)!” He shouted out, not from the recognition, rather, the daemon that had appeared behind you. No time, you moved as far as you could from the monster as it crashed into the wall previously behind you, but it was enough for Tim to run over to you. “Is that-”

“Safe, probably,” you inverted it in your hand. “Safer if I take it than if anyone else did.

“You can’t!” Tim makes a move to take it and you unscrewed the lid, holding it close to your mouth while keeping your sights on him.

“Why not?” You eyed the monster stepping out of the broken building.

“You…” Why couldn’t you? Tim was at a loss. Everything he’s seen, everything he’s observed, pointed to you being the most reasonable choice to drink it especially in this situation. But it just didn’t sit right with him. He held you in this amazing regard, this near unattainable standard that never could’ve been realistic in any universe, one that not even you could uphold. “I never thought that you’d think like him,” Tim mutters. You didn’t answer, instead opting to drink the down quickly.

The world around you rang as you took heavy steps toward the daemon that had regained it’s footing, and as soon as it noticed you it charged with its maw near unhinged, and you caught the daemon’s open jaws between your hands, your hands that were traced with green veins that were clear even through the blur at the edges of your eyes. You took deep breaths, the world around your shifted in and out of focus as if echoing just like the sounds of the battlefield, and once your vision somewhat stabilized you pushed further and ripped the daemon’s jaw in half. You tossed it’s mandible to the side and used your foot to roll it over on its back and you pulled the tag off. DP-82. Your breaths only deepened and you felt your heart rate quicken, like your heart was going to burst out of your chest from the adrenaline. Your hands were shaking, or was that your vision shaking? You felt the venom run through your veins with a burning sensation, threatening to rip your skin open with each pump of your heart. This is insanity, you could barely form a coherent thought.

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to take this so suddenly. Or at least, not all of it.

“Shit…” your teeth grinded against each other and you held your head in your hands, trying to get past the searing headache. You could feel your own searing blood run down either side of your face, and whether that was from the daemon or from yourself it was unclear. Then you felt two hands over yours pull them away from your head, and you looked up.

“(Y/N), take deep breaths,” Bruce says. One hand goes to his belt and pulls out a small vial, and he places it in your hands. “Take it.”

“Not yet,” you shake your head, would it even work? Your vision focusing on the daemon who was sprinting toward the both of you. You pushed the vial in your pocket and you pushed him aside, taking heavy steps toward the daemon before slicing your rapier once it got close enough. And the wound it left was so deep it fell back and you climbed on top of it, stabbing the beast repeatedly and even breaking the tag that was on it. In two pieces it landed on the floor with a simple DT-82 engraved on it. That’s four down. You looked around and spotted the ice daemon cornered by Alex. Readjusting your grip on your rapier with a rotate of the hilt around your palm, you charged forward and stopped only when the daemon had the thought to protect it’s frontside with a slate of ice.

Intelligence? Tim had mentioned it but you were wary to believe him considering the data came from the outlier in the basement.

Either way, this one was going to be harder to get rid of. Such was clear when you held your rapier above you to block the blow, instead feeling your boots sinking into the ground. You pushed through and powered the daemon’s fist off of the blade and you surged forward, redirecting the rapier into a crack between the ice armor the monster adorned, and just as fast you were pushed back. You wiped the fluid from your lips and took heavy breaths.

“Hey, Captain,” Constantine caught wind of the situation easily, “try using that rifle of yours against the ice plate, I have an idea,” he says. You nodded, pulling your rifle forward again and aiming it at the intended spot, but your hands wobbled slightly with the dizzying effect that was controlling you. You squinted your eyes, doing your best to make sense of the monster that was now appearing double. Then, you felt your hands stabilize, and you realized that Alex was holding the rifle steady. You aimed it as best as you could and took the shot, the bullet landing on one side of the plate, then you took more successive rounds until it was seconds away from shattering. You could just barely make out the magic circle that appeared on top of it until it pushed into the daemon and left it screaming while it ripped off its own skin. “Now’s your chance!” He shouts. You grabbed your rapier and sprinted forward, the double vision coming back together as you got closer and, with a push of your hand, the daemon’s thrashing stilled until it was no more. You pulled on the tags around it’s neck: CS-03. You pulled the second vial from your pocket, the top had broken off but there was still a sufficient amount of liquid inside of it, enough to drink anyway. And slowly you regained your senses, and slowly you became more aware of the shouts around you, but they all mixed and garbled into one incoherent noise underneath the ringing.

“Thank you, Captain Wayne!” The townspeople, whoever was left, had arrived again, all expressing their thanks in some way and, as you had found out later, due to Damien and Dick’s due diligence the number of casualties were greatly reduced compared to the previous attacks.

“Are you alright, (Y/N)?” Alex’s voice rang in your head. “It’s a mess in here.”

“It’s a mess out there. What does my mind look like?”

“Fractured.” His voice was an echo.

“Can you fix it?”

“It’ll fix on its own. Give the antidote time to work.” You nodded your head absently while holding it with one hand. Dick was saying something to you, but you couldn’t hear him. Jason grabbed his shoulder and now it was clear they were arguing but their shouts were incoherent to you. Tim was talking to you now, waving his hands in front of you with his brows knit together while Damian was speaking to your father.

You looked at him.

Your father. Why was he here?

Surely, not for you.

He was looking at you too, walking over slowly and looking into your eyes with a discerning glance. You’d be able to read their lips if not for the blur and the shakiness.

“Get me to Marion.”

“Certainly. Eve’s just arrived.” Speaking of, the woman ran up to you, unceremoniously pushing the boys out of the way as her hands cupped your face and moved it around gently. He seemed to ask what had happened to you, the proximity making her voice somewhat clear. Her hand waves next to her and a portal opens up as she guides you into it and, once again, you found yourself in a hospital room.

“Now this is just bullshit.” You thought to yourself.

“How is it your thoughts are louder at a distance?” You looked down, your hand still over your heart.

“Fuck. Keep me updated on what they do.”

“Sleep well, Cap.”

“I’m killing that Doctor if he puts me on bedrest again.”

“I await the headline.”

“What were those two arguing about?” You said nothing while Eve sat you down on the bed, seemingly calling for help.

“Dick and Jason?”

“Were there others arguing?”

“Not… Necessarily. They were talking about you, of course. I don’t think Dick understands the whole situation yet, they’re explaining it to him now.”

“Great. Maybe I will sleep.”

“Can you blame him? The last you he knew was…”

“Weak?”

“Different.” You pulled your hand off of your chest just as the Doctor entered with Marion in tow. Marion hands you a vial and you drink it, ever so slowly the world quieted down and stabilized.

“How do you feel, (Y/N)?” Eve asks.

“Like I’m human again,” you shook your head.

“Are you fucking crazy?!” Marion shouts and your winced. “Did I not leave clear instructions to not use it on yourself? You’re insane, (Y/N), I don’t care if you can reattach, this is your basic biology we’re talking about now. If one calculation was off in our work you could have been like that forever, do you understand?”

“Of course, I understand, I fucking made it,” you grimaced. Marion frowns and slumps her shoulders.

“You talk to her, Dr. Bronte. She’ll listen to you,” Marion grumbles on her way out of the room.

“You know she’s just worried,” Dr. Bronte’s words were obscured by his mask.

Samuel Wyach Bronte was a strange man, brilliant, but strange. He sports a full face mask, a result of a chemical explosion that had occured years prior to your advancement into the role of Captain, leaving only the blue of his eyes clear. He was a tower of a man, standing straight with discipline and holding an air of composure around him. He had been your primary care physician since you started and will probably continue to do so as long as you continued to rip your body apart in combat. But his medical prowess is unmatched, he’s a leader in his field and has since garnered a strong legacy. There is no one more capable of treating your conditions than he is, at the very least.

“But this… this is reckless even for you,” he says, observing your arms. “You have burst blood vessels all along it,” he points at the small patches of red. “What exactly did you take?”

“It’s confidential, and a work in progress still, I wasn’t anticipating those side effects,” you looked at your blistering hands. “You’re not imprisoning me again, are you?”

“Well, that depends on your reattachment.”

“Eve, get Alex over here,” you muttered.

“Right away,” she waves her hand again and the portal opens wide, Alex looks over his shoulder.

“Oh, hello,” he says. Clearly, you just interrupted a conversation he was having with Dick and your dad. “Having trouble?” He asks. Dr. Bronte finds a way to sit up straighter upon seeing the crowd. Alex steps through the portal. “Until next time, Mr. Wayne,” Alex nods his head and Eve shuts the portal.

2014

When you found out that your dad was Batman, you were as over the moon as you were when you found out Dick was Robin. Your dad is a superhero, who wouldn’t be surprised at that? You had heard stories about how the caped crusader was unstoppable, how he kept Gotham safe from the night prowlers, and you were so proud of him, you were so proud to be his daughter.

But slowly you saw the toll it took on him. You saw the toll it took on you. On your brothers, on your sisters, and on this whole family. As you got older you realized the truth behind the mantle and the weight it carried.

But it was probably one event that truly spelled that out for you, the truth of what your dad did at night and its consequences. And when you came home that night, you had no idea there was someone else waiting there. Sure, there was the occasional photographer that somehow got past the front gate but, good god, never did they make it under your bed.

So when you walked into your room, ready for a night’s rest but not before sitting at the edge of your bed to type out a quick text to your then partner, you never could have expected a hand to tap at your ankle. When was the last time you were scared to look under there? Years ago. You jumped away quickly, your back pressed against the door while your shaking hands attempted to open it, and before the intruder had the chance to crawl out from under you had already begun your descent down the stairs, and then further into the cave. It was late, you knew that at least Alfred had to be down in the cave at the very least if not your dad, you never would’ve expected to see someone you’d only seen on the news.

Bane. He said nothing, you said nothing, the only difference now is that aside from your racing heart you felt your fear in your bones. He was terrifying, more so than you could’ve ever imagined even from the pictures and the case studies you had seen. The tubes filled with that dangerous green liquid drained into him quickly with every movement he made, and with every passing second it was clear to you that he was getting stronger. Then he took a step toward you, you took a step back, and this repeated until he was close enough to lunge at you. You were shaking. They were never supposed to get this close, they were never supposed to make it to the manor. This was supposed to be a safe place. What was he going to do to you? You thought back to the stranger under your bed. What would he have done to you? What was he going to do to your father now that he’s seen you? Your mind was in a frenzy and you stumbled, you fell frozen in fear, your legs that had taken you so far were rendered near useless. And this time even the batarang that flew at Bane’s head wasn’t enough to calm you.

“Go!” Your dad’s voice echoed. He was tired, you could tell. This was the first time you’d seen him in weeks after the entirety of Arkham broke out. You couldn’t move. “I said go! Call for help!” You stumbled to your feet, grabbing the comm while you ran out of the cave. Your hands were shaking, you couldn’t see clearly, but you pressed the first contact that was there.

“Bruce? What’s going on?” His voice, as always, was your beacon of hope.

“Dick!” You were out of breath, his name was the only thing that came out despite the jumble of words that plagued your mind.

“(Y/N)?” A new and more concerned tone was clear. “Why are you using the comm?”

“It’s dad, he… you need to come to the cave now!”

“I— What’s going on?”

“I… dammit,” the words weren’t forming. “Bane!” You finally shouted out. You were at the front gate of the manor now, it was as far as your mind could take you, whatever response Dick had said was unknown to you except that he hung up right after and you, still afraid, slid down the side of the column and onto the floor.

You ran. You ran. You should’ve stayed behind, you should’ve helped somehow, anyhow, you’re the daughter of the Batman, for Christ’s sake, why aren’t you doing anything other than holding your head between your hands and trying to control the fear? Would Dick even get there on time? Did your dad have everything handled?

“(Y/N)?” Tim’s voice was distant, and even though you knew he was in front of you, he seemed miles away. “Hey, come on, deep breaths, what happened?” He was trying to pull you back into reality. He grabbed onto your shoulder, squeezing it gently until you felt your breaths steady, and once you had come to your senses, Tim pushed you into the bushes, his hands over your mouth and one finger over his, then he looked over his shoulder. You stood in a tense silence, crouched behind the shrubs and unable to hear the reason why Tim had pushed you in here in the first place. Finally, he pulled you out of the hiding spot and, with no hesitation, you ran back to the cave with Tim close behind. Your mouth felt dry, the words still couldn’t come up while you stared at Dick and your dad.

You often tried not to think about how close death was to this family, very rarely did it take one of you, but never did it leave without leaving a mark.

If only you were stronger.

You thought about that for nights on end, you lost sleep over it even. Stronger, what did it mean? You weren’t an acrobat like Dick, you weren’t strong like Jason, and you weren’t smart like Tim. Everything you had ever owned was because your father had handed it to you. If only there was a snap solution to this, a quick way to become useful.

It had only crossed your mind once. Bane’s Venom, that is. Seeing it work inperson was grotesque, horrific actually.

But… maybe if you could…

You dismissed the thought.

Yet when you saw a vial of it in the cave once, many years after your father had healed and you had gotten older.

Well, how bad can it be?

You took it and took a quick look at it, just going over the basic chemistry of it all one day in your university’s lab long after hours, and it was fascinating. A drop of it had killed a mouse, yet Bane nearly overdoses on it every time he uses it and he’s fine.

If you could change it just enough to avoid the body horror, just enough to avoid the blind rage that came with it, you could very well have a type of a super soldier serum.

You could be stronger. You could help your family. You wouldn’t have to run all the time and get out of their way, you could be one of them, standing at their sides, a true member of what you have heard referred to as the Batfamily.

Then your father would have to acknowledge you.

…

Right?

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#dc #batman #batfamily #batfam #batsis #batsis fics #batfamily x batsis!reader #batfam x reader #batfamily scenarios #batfamily x reader #batsis!reader #batfam fics #batfamily fics #batfamily x batsis #batfam x batsis!reader #batfam x batsis #my writings #nycv

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coupleoffanfics · 1 year

Text

I might write about this one day. Maybe. Probably.

Random things about y/n with the batfam

Based on First Post

Bruce Wayne

Bruce never knew how to deal with y/n’s emotional outbursts even before they drifted apart. Out of everyone y/n was hands down the most emotional out of all the kids. Like what he is supposed to do when she’s crying about stray cats that don’t have a home. Or those times when she’d tear up over failing a test.

Just gives her a pat on the back and tries saying that it's not the end of the world. Not really helping as it invalidates her emotions. She makes a mental note to not go to Bruce after getting the same “reassuring words” from him every time.

Nearly spat out his coffee when she called him Pa for the first time. It was only after a couple of months of living there. Seeing the shocked reaction, she quickly tried to take it back until he reassured her with a small smile.

“You won’t be my dad, but you can be my pa. So when I have kids you can be called peepaw.”

Bruce isn’t sure when y/n stopped calling him Pa, but he remembers how he felt hearing her call him Sir or Bruce. How unnatural it sounded. It was too formal, but what hurt the most was how she said it without a second thought. Acting like it was the norm.

What happened to him being Pa?

What does he have to do to get his Pa status back?

Hopefully he doesn’t learn that y/n gave that title to someone else.

Dick Grayson

Kinda regrets not getting to know y/n before he and the whole family start going off into the deep end. It's not like they never interact or anything. Dick had trained her when she was working toward becoming Batgirl, but it was Bruce who mainly trained her.

Dick wasn’t nearly as close to her as Tim or even Jason. He didn’t have the time when juggling the Teen Titans, establishing himself as Nightwing, and being a Wayne. It was a stressful time of his life.

But he has much more free time now. Meaning he has much more time to make up for not being a big brother for y/n.

Slightly jealous that everyone except for him and Damian know or at least knew y/n. Some more than others.

So to gain an edge he read her diary. Only once he swears and it wasn’t like he went searching for it or anything. Didn’t know she had one. It was just sitting there in a box under her bed. Anyone could have found it really.

Reading the neat handwriting and discovering the personality of y/n was interesting. Kinda expected something along the lines of teen angst constering how aloof she comes off when around the family. Instead he found words of an insecure yet optimistic girl.

Dick uses his newly acquired intel to make it easier for y/n to talk to him. Brings up media that she likes to bond over the “same” interests they have. Uses her insecurities against her.

If she gets mad at him for trying to plant the idea that her best friend was a bad person, he’ll act like she’s overrating. Say that she was yelling even if she wasn’t. When asking if there was any validity to his bullshit, he’ll bring up one of her insecurity.

“You’ve always been slow when it comes to everything, but good thing your favorite brother is always there for you.”

“Yeah, good thing I’ll always have Tim.”

“Yeah, wait-”

Jason Todd

They were somewhat close before he died as they trained and sparred with each other. He wished he was able to see her put on her suit for the first time as he knows how hard she worked for it. Could practically hear her squealing when she looked in the mirror.

Unlike the others, Jason avoided y/n on purpose. He felt ashamed for beating and having snapped her arm when he was trying to kill everyone. She wasn’t even fighting back. If it wasn’t for Bruce and Tim, y/n would have ended up in a casket.

When hearing that she quit being Batgirl, he was kind of surprised. He remembers the younger y/n trying so hard to meet Bruce’s expectations. Despite failing more than he could count, she always got back to work. Always trying to improve. Never being satisfied with herself.

Wanted to know what made her quit, but decided against it. It wasn’t his place to ask and he doubted that she’d tell him. It wasn’t like she told anyone though.

Was kinda glad that y/n quit. Jason always felt queasy when seeing or even thinking of her getting hurt since it reminds him of when he was so close to taking her life. And he always felt that she wasn’t made for this kind of work.

She was too soft to fight the Killer Croc or face Scarecrow. Even though Jason always felt that way, he’d never say it aloud. He couldn’t bring himself to dampen that twinkle in her eyes.

“I saw how hard you hit the punching bag, why are you holding back now?”

“I don’t know…I don’t want to hurt you or anything.”

“y/n, you're supposed to come at me with everything you got.”

“But I don’t like hurting you or anyone.”

Tim Drake

Tim and y/n were close even though it was a bit awkward at first. They geeked out about the latest games and shows. Staying up late enjoying whatever type entertainment with junk food much to the dismay of Bruce and Alfred.

y/n admired his intelligence and how patient he was when explaining something to her. Whether it was homework or something else entirely, he was the one she felt most comfortable asking for help from.

She was low-key jealous of how quickly Tim was able to gain the title of Robin while it took her years of training to become Batgirl. But the jealousy would later be admiration for a time.

Tim always felt privileged when y/n showed her artwork to him. She never likes showing it to anyone and hates when someone tries to look at what she was drawing. So when she asks for his attention and flips her notebook/tablet around he can't help smiling.

Even when they were on good terms, he wasn't sure how to approach her when going through a low. She either needed to be alone, talk, or push. The thing is Tim doesn't know how to appropriately react. He just doesn't want to make anything worse, so he ends up having her sit outside to absorb the sun rays. Since he noticed how that had brightened her low mood.

When y/n quit being Batgirl he gave her some space before asking about it. Surprisingly he didn't get much of an answer. She was usually so open about everything, especially with him.

Realizing that they were getting nowhere with this he backed off. Assuming that she'd tell him when she was ready.

Overtime they began hanging out less and less. He hadn't realized how far they drifted apart until one night. Just making a quick run to the kitchen for some coffee. It was pretty late and he didn't think any else was or would be awake.

Yet there was y/n sitting at the kitchen island writing on a paper with notes scattered around her. Homework. When Tim made his presence known with a simple hi, he noticed how…tense she got. Like she got caught stealing from the forbidden cookie jar.

When asking what she was working on, she gave short answers. He'd expected a monologue of how frustrating learning this new material is. Then asking if she needed help, he saw her jaw slightly clench. It looked like she was going to say more, but only declined with a no.

It was odd, but he didn't think too much of it at the time. He had…He didn't want to admit it, but he had more important things to deal with. If he knew of things that were going to happen, he would've done so much differently.

"— Really? I think this is my worst one yet."

"I don't know what you're talking about, it looks great. I couldn't ever draw something that good."

"Just because you can't draw doesn't make my drawing better. Wait, you were just shitting on me for comparing myself to others."

"Yeah, but that's different."

Damian Wayne/Al Ghul

Never liked y/n from the start. Before she even opened her mouth, just that smile looked so wrong. Damian couldn't put his finger on it, but didn't like it. It seemed so fake because it was.

There wasn't anything that made him feel like he needed to respect her like the others. Sure, she was Batgirl but only for a few years.

She never helped them with anything. She's never there to help in the first place. In his opinion she wasn't anything more than dead weight.

When insulted there was never an insult thrown back. He can tell when he struck a nerve when her lips move to the right and her eyes slightly harden. Maybe her nose will flare up if he hit hard enough.

Then she just responds with a hum before ignoring him or leaving the room. If she didn't respect herself enough to defend herself then why should he even bother with her.

When the family slowly/is yandere he'll reevaluate his view of y/n. Still thinks she's weak and cannot do anything, but less hateful. Which is a good thing until he's trying to have her attention whenever they're in the same room.

Or when he's digging through all her artwork while Dick is giggling to himself when reading her diary. Finding out their interest in the arts, he's forcing her to paint. Doesn't care if she doesn't like it, they're painting together.

"Why can't you carry your weight around the house? All you do is sit in your room."

"Hm."

"I don't even know why you're still here, Father should have kicked you out after you stopped being useful."

"Mhhm."

"I know you can hear me. You just don't know how to respond because it's true."

"Hmm."

|*|*|*|*|

Dear Diary,

Today my family tried to talk to me.

It was weird.

#batfamily #batfamily x batsis #batfamily x reader #yandere batfam #yandere x reader #I'll write it I swear #x reader #reader insert

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flying-nightwing · 5 months

Text

Moonlight by the Docks (And They Say Romance is Dead) - Slade Wilson

Hi. It's been a while. But guess fucking what babes, I'm pulling all the stops to be forgiven. It's been more than a YEAR in the making, and mark my word it probably won't happen again so take it all in, but here is the Deathstroke smut a LOT of you have been wanting. Y'all, this is the long awaited sequel to Tango à Deux. Please forgive me?

(it's technically a sequel but can be read as a standalone if you accept that batsis and Slade already know each other)

Also, enjoy!

Pairing: Slade Wilson x Nightshade!Batsis

Word count: 4721

Warnings: violence, death/killing unnamed NPC, porn with plot, dirty talk (lots of it), unprotected sex, p in v, batsis and deathstroke fighting for dominance (NO classic dom/sub dynamics bc that's a pass for me), more dirty talk, body fluid, kinky shit, creampie, biting, rubbing, rough sex, reference to voyeurism, major praise kink, everything is extremely consenting and willing by both ADULT parties, might have missed something but I think if you made it this far you're into it.

Have fun ;)

“Nightshade, status”

You barely heard Batman's hushed check in as you barrelled into a boarded up window, breaking the moulding wood with your shoulders and rolling out of the building as bullets rained over you. You wasted no time getting back on your feet, starting to sprint away from the semi automatic rifles rapid firing in your direction.

“Nightshade, status?”

“JUST A MINUTE” You yelled as you dived behind a large container, flinching at the sound of the bullets hitting the metal and ringing loud into your head. “Fucking fuck shit”

“What's going on?” Batman's voice grew agitated despite remaining a low hiss. “Talk to me Nightshade”

“Wrong fucking intel!” You replied as you jumped on your feet again, taking advantage of the opportunity window their reloading gave you to run across the dockyard to find better cover. “It's happening now! There's at least twenty guys here, all trained and armed to the teeth. And they're all on my ass right now”

What was supposed to be a simple recon mission with a possibility of stealth takedown op turned into a giant mess at the first opportunity. The second you slipped into the warehouse, you quickly realized that the three guards on shift that you had been briefed about was, in fact, a small militia that was ready to be deployed on some combat mission, or that's what you believed was being said before you got made.

You would have also liked to know in advance that the building was littered with state of the art tripwires, movement detectors and heat sensors. Alas, you had gone in believing it was just a normal warehouse, and you had realized a moment too late you had triggered pretty much every alarm on the upper floor and very much alerted the militia of your presence.

“Tell me your position, I'm coming”

Your eyes went to the containers around you, taking as much information as you could without slowing down. Going into the maze of old containers was a great idea until you had to describe your surroundings. “I'm westbound, but those crates all look the same, B”

“On my way”

You ducked as much as you could to make yourself smaller as the symphony of bullets bouncing on the metal caught up to you. You took a hard left, trying to remember which way was more likely to not end up with a dead end, then went to your right. You could hear them shout, not giving up the chase, but you still tempted a look over your shoulder. They weren't on you yet. You faced forward and picked up some speed, rounding the corner towards the darkest and narrowest path to the left.

Before your eyes could even adjust to the shadows cast by the containers, your feet lifted off the ground and a large gloved hand was slapped tight on your mouth. On instinct, you began trashing to get away before your back was pulled flush against a hard armoured chest with a strong arm locking your waist against it.

“Quiet, little bird”

The militia paused at the crossroad, then after a string of barked orders, turned right. At the same time, your brain took in the orange and dark grey of the armour around you and pieced it with that voice you couldn’t mistake for anyone else's. You stopped struggling, yet, he didn’t release you. His hand was still firmly cupping your jaw while you could feel his other arm flex around your waist.

He tsked as the echoes of the yells grew more distant. “Once again getting in my way. What will I do with you now?”

You replied something, but it was muffled by his glove. You reached up and pulled his hand down, but he still let it linger on your neck once your mouth was free. You felt a bit weak in the knees and cursed yourself for getting turned on so easily, and even more for your next words. “Hopefully finish what you started last time if you’re not a coward”

Oh, that was so not the thing to say right now. You felt his hand around your neck tighten enough to be noticeable, but still loose enough for you to weigh your next words carefully. The yells once again grew closer, telling you the militia found a dead end and were backtracking towards your position.

“Do you really want to do this right now?” His voice was so close to your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. As much as pouncing on him right there and then was generating divine images in your brain, you were still being hunted down by an enemy who’d be on you much sooner than later. And well, if you died riding Deathstroke, Bruce would bring you back to life just to kill you himself, his own code be damned.

“As much as I wanna say yes,” You breathed back. “This bunch of angry men want me dead, so I believe the smart thing would be to deal with them first”

He released you. “Alright then. I’ll be here”

Your feet were fully back on the ground and you turned around to face him. Wow. You had been so right in your assumption that his other suit–namely, the one he was currently wearing–would be hotter on him. Even in the dark, he looked positively glorious and mighty delicious in all that armour, and with a small armoury worth of weapons strapped all over his, big, strong, menacing body–

You forced yourself to calm your thoughts down. “A little help would be appreciated”

“Why?” You couldn’t see his face, but you just knew it was full of smug arrogance. “I’ve got my own mission here. Who says they're part of it?”

You glanced in the direction of the ever growing noise, then back to him. “C'mon, I'm literally about to have sex with you, the least you could do is make sure I'm alive for it”

He sighed loudly. “I suppose you make a compelling point”

The militia rounded the corner and spotted you as Slade stepped between their fire and you. In one swift movement, he pulled out his sword and twirled it in his hand, as if provoking the armed men in front of him. For a moment, he just stood there, shielding you from the onslaught of bullets suddenly incoming your way. They all bounced on the front of Slade’s armour, painting him off as some kind of god of war, and you couldn’t help but gawk at the sight. You were so caught onto just how hot he looked that you almost didn’t register him springing into action and starting to cut through the group.

You reached for your karambit blades in your thigh straps and followed him in, making sure not to stray too far from his shadow to keep your cover from the fire.

You waited for the reload to duck under his arm, sliding on your knees in a spin and slicing the tendons of two men. That sent them straight into the path of Slade's swords, adding to the bloodshed. You swiftly returned behind him as another round of bullet was fired, but by the sound alone, the number of gunmen was plummeting.

The next reload came and you once again stepped away from him as he brought his two swords down onto some poor son of a bitch. You noticed a knife coming down and aiming for the small opening between his suit and his mask, so you sprung into action.

Literally.

You used his propped up knee to propel yourself up and jump onto the guys' shoulders, gripping onto him by squeezing your thighs around his skull. He tried to get you off of him by spinning and thrashing like a mechanical bull, but you held on tight. He was getting desperate to throw you off as pressure grew around his head, lifting his knife in the air to stab your leg. You were faster however, reacting on instinct and plunging your karambits into his neck.

He began sputtering as he tried to claw at his throat, blood squirting out of his artery and onto your suit. He dropped down to his knees and you got off, only then noticing he had been the last one standing. Key word, had been. He fell down on the floor in a puddle of his own blood as you observed him. Then, you felt like you were being watched intensely.

You trailed your gaze up to see Slade on his feet and unmoving among the carnage he had mostly caused. You couldn't help the thoughts that flashed into your mind, or the way your body reacted to it. You closed your eyes and let out a sigh, wondering what the hell was wrong with you.

Because somehow, you found it fucking hot.

And the fact that he did all of that just to get a taste of you? Yeah that did it. You completely switched your brain off as your feet took determined steps to him, quickly closing the distance to him and paying no mind to the bodies littering the floor. The second you were in front of him, you ripped his mask off and kissed him hard.

And he was ready for you. Without a single after thought of hesitation, his gloved hand yanked your hood back and cupped your neck, dragging you back in the shadows with him.

Just like the first time you sneaked out in a quiet place to make out, his lips were rough and insistent on yours. His hands were busy mapping your body, gripping your hips tight as he pushed you back onto the metal of the container. Like a reflex, his fingers seeked your back for a zipper, but found none. He kept searching for the proper way to undo your suit, until he pulled back with a glare of frustration.

You rolled your eyes. “I'll take care of mine, take care of yours”

Of course it was hard to figure out, it was made as such. But telling him that would only push him to try and get it and you weren't nearly patient enough right now to nurse his ego.

In practiced motions, you undid your belt and unclasped several buckles that held the top part of your suit to the bottom. You barely had the time to pop off the button of the waistband that you were pushed once again on the cold metal, a much larger hand quickly replacing yours.

Your pants were quickly undone and his hand slid down your stomach, reaching their destination with haste. You gasped as his calloused fingers began working on your clit, rubbing it in circles at a pace that was both tortuously slow and absolutely fantastic. His free hand slapped on your mouth just as you let out a moan that would have definitely bounced around the whole shipyard.

He tsked. “As much as I would like to hear you, I'd rather not get interrupted by another armed militia. You'd agree, wouldn't you?”

Your breath shuddered and you nodded. Still, his hand didn't go away.

He gave you a smug smirk. “I'll keep it there just in case”

You didn't even think about arguing, instead, you squeezed his forearm to encourage him to keep going. His fingers expertly worked you, alternating between pressure and friction and making your eyes roll back into your skull. Your hips followed his movements, chasing more friction from the fabric of his glove. You were greedy for him, for his hands, for his body. All you wanted to do is take, take and take, and luckily for you, he seemed more than happy to give it all to you and more.

“That's it little bird, fly for me”

His hand moved just right with his words, and you couldn't do anything else to obey his command. You let go and came harder than you had in years, your vision going completely white for a second. Good thing his hand was muffling your voice, otherwise you were sure the whole city would have heard your scream bouncing from the dock.

When he was certain your whimpers had quieted to an acceptable level, he took off his hand from your mouth and caressed the side of your head. “I think I like you like this” He hummed. “Being a good girl for me”

You were already half coherent from your orgasm, but him calling you a good girl like this, even if it was most likely condescending, was definitely getting you worked up for round two. “Fuck, if this is what you give me every time, I'll be whatever you want”

Oh yeah, you were NOT thinking with your brain at the moment.

And the groan coming from him did not help calm down your heartbeat. And judging by how his entire body flexed along, you could only figure out those words of your equally turned him on, creating a feedback loop that threatened to keep you here with him until well past sunrise.

Like a man starved, he shoved you back into the wall with his whole body, pinning your naked hips with his. You took in a sharp breath when his hard cock rubbed against your sensitive clit, spreading your orgasm all over his pants. Before you can make any more noises, his lips were on yours, reclaiming back with interest his dues from the previous ride. The grinding of his hips against yours drove you delirious and made you forget everything that wasn't about him right now.

He reached between his body and yours and pulled out his cock, letting it bounce on his chest piece and stand proud, already glistening with precum. Just like the rest of him, he was huge. Good thing you had a whole waterpark going down there, otherwise he would never have fitted. He snaked his arms around your thighs and put his hands on your ass, then hoisted you up like you weighed nothing more than a feather.

“Not one drop on this suit” You warned breathlessly as he lined himself with you.

“What, no more ruining your clothes?” He raised a teasing eyebrow.

“That dress was worth pocket change compared to this” You replied, eyelids half open as you forced the moment of clarity. “Buying me a new one would have you file for bankruptcy”

“Fine, no stain whatsoever” He drawled out, leaning into your space once again and ghosting his lips on your ear. “Will you be my good girl and take it all inside then?”

The spell you had broken returned tenfold over you as your knees buckled. It took you several seconds to find your voice and prepare an answer that wouldn't be an embarrassingly loud moan. “If I say yes, will you get going?”

The pressure from his tip at your entrance alone made you whimper in absolute delight. This is what had been peeking more and more often in your naughty dreams ever since you met, and more often than not they ended with your hand doing what you now knew was a mediocre impression of his.

Slowly, he lowered you into him until you couldn't go further down. You were so full of him it was literally impossible to think about anything other than the pressure between your legs and the massive cock impaling you. That too, had been greatly underestimated by your imagination. Nothing would have done the real thing justice. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him just a little bit deeper, and it took all of his restraint not to start fucking you like an animal after that.

“Fuck little bird,” He said, his voice low and rough. You hadn't started moving yet, but a quick squeeze around him made him let out a low grunt that you would definitely replay in your head later on. “You always take ‘em that easy?”

“I think that's only you,” Feeling bold at how much he tried to act tough about it, you decided to return the favour. You snaked your arms around his neck and pulled yourself closer, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses up until you reached his ear. “Maybe your little bird has just been dreaming about getting railed by the big bad wolf one night too many to give him any resistance”

He switched his hands from your ass to your waist and pushed you back roughly on the wall. The angle changed and stars flashed in your vision for a moment.

“Why don't you tell me about those dreams?” His words were demands and he started moving inside of you, hips thrusting forward in a tortuously slow movement. Yet, it made your body sing along, meeting him halfway.

“It always starts with you dragging me off to a dark secluded place after I said some shit to get you hard” You smiled as he kept hitting the right spot. Your focus on his questing was a lifeline you gripped with all you had not to just become some fucked out doll for him. You intended to make him work a little more before getting to this point.

He gave you a particular hard thrust that made you gasp for air. “Keep going on, little bird” He grunted in your ear.

“And then– Fuck” You threw your head back on the wall. He wasted no time claiming your open neck, grazing his teeth on the skin. “No marks either”

You could practically feel him rolling his eyes, but he backed off with the teeth and kept going on with his lips. “And then what?”

“And then we rile each other up properly” You smirked as you threaded your hand in his hair and gripped hard. The low reverberating moan that came out of him combined with the very obvious twitching of his dick inside of you nearly made you finish right here and there. “Your head between my legs, taking good care of me…”

His thrusts definitely picked up speed as your words hit their mark. He did nip your neck at the moment, but it was light enough that you let it fly.

“Then when you show that you know how to warm me up, I'd get down on my knees–” That made his hips jut forward and hit a deep spot in you that made you moan like a whore. “Maybe– Maybe even let you fuck my face if your tongue made me cum hard enough–”

“Fuck, who knew Gotham's little princess had such a dirty mouth on her, huh?” He straightened up and returned his glove to your oversensitive clit, brushing it hard enough to catch your voice in your throat. “What would everybody think if they saw you so eager to be my good little fuck toy?”

That would be a proper scandal indeed.

“I don't care what they'd think” You managed to mumble. It was getting harder to keep your mind sharp now that he had begun rubbing you again. “They can even watch, as long as they don't interrupt”

You should have kept your damn mouth shut, you realized seconds later. You had obviously called irony upon yourself just by speaking the words.

“Nightshade?”

It was like you were suddenly doused with a bucket of ice water. You grew rigid as your earpiece came to life with probably the last voice you wanted to hear right now. Your eyes slowly widened as you remembered that your father was on his way to be your backup. And him walking in on you and Slade wouldn't be as low key as it had been with your brothers. There would be bloodshed.

Slade obviously noticed your change of attitude and paused his thrusts. You dreadfully raised your hand to your comm and double tapped it to turn on the mic.

“B?”

It took a few seconds for Slade to understand what was going on, and the shit eating grin he gave you told you he definitely wouldn't make the next step easy. With his good eye never leaving your face, he began thrusting again, challenging your murderous glare.

“I got delayed by another armed group in the shipyard,” He explained. “I’m on my way now. Where are you?”

You thanked whatever divine intervention that put obstacles on his way, because you had totally forgotten about him once you had caught sight of Slade. You were in an uncomfortable situation, but not as much as if he had walked on you. You took a moment to come up with a good enough excuse to keep him away just a little bit longer for you to get out of this mess. In the meanwhile, Slade still kept at it, obviously trying to make you slip. “Um, I–” You coughed to hide a gasp as he hit you deep.

‘Fuck you’ you mouthed to Slade, which he replied in the same fashion, ‘Already am’. That fucker.

“Nightshade, what’s going on?”

You could have killed him right there if he hadn’t been doing it so right.

“Nightshade?”

“Yep, uh,” You took a deep breath and got a hold of yourself. Batman was getting impatient and you had to start being credible. You made a show of coughing exaggeratedly before speaking your next words, your eyes never leaving Slade's. “Just got sucker punched. It's fine though, it just took me by surprise. T'was nothing but a weak shot”

Slade’s smug expression faltered just a little, and you gave him your own version of the shit eating grin he was no longer giving you.

“Ok, where are you now?”

“I've backtracked and now Northbound, but I’ve got it under control” You took the opportunity of your previous lie to breathe deeply and counter some of the absolutely not family-friendly noises that were threatening to come out of your mouth instead of words. “But I’m not the only one here–” Deep breath. “I was being chased, and then I wasn’t. Only a couple of guys kept my trail… Somebody is picking out targets here. I think it would be smarter to fall back on the meetup point and recon”

“... Are you sure?”

“Positive” The word came out short and dry. “I think they might have done the same”

“Alright, I’ll reroute”

“I’ll catch up to you” You managed to say without tripping. “Nightshade out”

You made sure your comm was definitely off before hitting Slade on the chest. He only let out a quiet chuckle at what most likely felt like a breeze to him. “Asshole”

He leaned forward and rested his whole forearm on the container behind you, then thrust up. The new angle had you rolling your eyes in your skull, seeing black and orange stars in the blur of your vision. “Gotta make you pay somehow for all that work you made me do”

“As if you haven’t enjoyed it– oh”

He resumed his pace from before the untimely interruption, effectively cutting off your train of thoughts. “Now little bird, I believe you have somewhere else to be. Such a shame I don't have time to make you beg for it”

“Mhhfp, fine” You muttered as your arms went back around his neck. “Just because you have been quite compliant with my demands–”

He seemed confused for a second, until you pulled yourself up and nuzzled against his neck, letting out your prettiest little moans every time his hips hit yours. With your voice low enough just for him to hear, you gave him what he wanted.

“Please Slade, I need it” The out of rhythm thrusts and the low grunt that you felt through his chest told you everything you needed to know. “I need your cum inside of me, fuck your cum into your good girl”

He slapped a hand on the wall behind you and wrapped his other arm around your waist, moving you faster up and down with his own thrusts forward. He grunted louder and louder in your ear, getting closer to his release. You had no idea if it was the begging or his reaction to it that turned you on, but you were getting pretty close as well.

“Fuck, little bird” His voice was rough and low, and you couldn't help the nip to his throat instead of something louder. “I'll ruin you– I'll fucking ruin you”

“Please ruin me” You whined, feeling the familiar crescendo of your orgasm build. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, please, I'm so close, please don't stop”

“C'mon, be a good girl and cum for me”

He drove you into the wall with his hips and the friction of his belt on your clit drove you to the edge. You had expected it, but holy shit, your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your walls clenched around him hard and you pulled him deeper into you with your legs, holding onto him with everything you got. Your vision fully went white and your teeth bit into his neck like they had a mind of their own.

After a string of swears, he completely lost his rhythm and stilled, his hips sputtering forward and spilling inside of you with a low moan that almost got you ready for another round.

You didn't move for a moment, focusing on catching your breath. Your eyes were half closed, glazed over, watching sweat pearl over Slade's exposed skin and your bite mark slowly disappearing on his neck.

“Something interesting about my neck, miss Nightshade?”

A genuine smile curved up your lips at his comment; the same he had made all those weeks ago when you were waltzing around the dance floor. “Just admiring the view, that's all” You signed, content. “Why, are you afraid I will bite it off?”

He shook his head, looking up at the sky in a failed attempt to appear annoyed that you also remembered exactly what you replied.

“Huh, I guess you were into it after all” You mumbled as you slowly let yourself slide off of him and fell back on your feet.

He took a good look at the mess he had made, seeming satisfied at how your knees slightly buckled as you hit the ground. Without a word, he pulled himself back in his trousers and readjusted his belt.

You then started to pull back on your suit, the rough material now sitting uncomfortably on your sweaty skin. “That's gonna be a bitch to clean…” You thought aloud, realizing tonight's run was far from over and the many body fluids would have time to nicely settle in the fabric.

“You said not a drop on the outside” Slade commented, then pointed at the clearly not soiled outside layer of the suit. “And none there is”

You couldn't help but laugh as your eyes subconsciously went to his own suit, where the glistening on his thigh guards extended to darker spots on his trousers. Anybody catching a glimpse of it would know exactly what caused the wet spot, and nobody would mistake it for him soiling himself. “Can't say the same for you”

He looked down, then frowned in what you could only describe as a cartoonish way. “Hm. This is upsetting. Whatever will I do”

Both of your eyebrows shot up as you let out a short laugh of disbelief. “What that… a joke?”

He only gave you a stern look that didn’t quite reach his good eye as he put back his mask on.

“Oh, he has a sense of humour now? Who would have known” Despite your half dizzy state, your brain still found enough drive to tease him about it. Considering he was rearranging your guts minutes ago, you believed it was now fair game.

He pointed a warning finger at you after he finished making sure everything was strapped correctly on his armour. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood”

You rolled your eyes as you flipped back your hood on. “Yeah I fucking bet. ‘Can say thank you Nightshade about it”

As expected, he elected not to comment on that. He only turned around and looked over his shoulder. “Until next time, little bird”

You did gratuitously check out his ass as he walked away, then prepared a damn good reason to give Batman to explain your dishevelled state.

#slade wilson x f!reader #slade wilson x batsis!reader #slade wilson x reader #deathstroke x reader #deathstroke x f!reader #deathstroke x batsis!reader #dc fic #dc writing #dcu #DCU fic

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cas-backwards-tie · 11 months

Text

Chapter Six: The Summer of a Lifetime

Heiress of Gotham

Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: With things out of the way and perhaps a little more trust, maybe the reader will finally start to make some progress, and a few friends along the way.

Warnings: Spying, Being Spied On, Insects, Wet T-Shirts, Flirting,

Words: 3.6k

A/N: While this chapter may seem like it takes a lot of twists in turns in the vignettes, it's sort of meant to reflect the ups and downs and small moments we have during summer. Honestly, though, this is perfect for the introduction of certain characters and plotlines I wanted!

It'd been an interesting end to the school year, really, and that's aside from the fact that you'd had to deal with and go through the grief of your Mother passing. Within the few months you'd been at Wayne Manor, the family had quickly learned many things about you. Bruce had found out how frugal and tenacious you are, insistent on selling some of your old articles of clothing for money on some app he could never remember the name of, meanwhile refuting the many attempts he'd offered to take you out shopping. Who wants to go shopping with their Dad anyway? He'd been consumed with work, and therefore more time had been turned over to your brothers.

While school was out for both you and Damian, Tim had decided to take summer classes at the nearby community college since it'd make his college applications only look better. Dick, of course, was still working, and Jason, really, you had no idea what was going on with him since it seemed he had most days free and nights taken. While you'd considered the possibility that someone associated with the Wayne family had a night-time job, you also didn't want to think of someone who very quickly became a big brother to you in that manner. That was just... ew. With the three eldest gone or rarely home, you'd been left with Damian and Alfred mostly.

--------

“So… you’re spying on your own child because…?” Tim draws out, leaning against the motherboard as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Because it’s Bruce? You’re not the first. Thought you would’ve been the wiser, Green Bean,” Dick chides as he manually stitches another loop into his uniform. Seated on the edge of the metal table propped against the railing on the opposite side of the platform.

“She’s been watching television for over two hours straight. Is this unhealthy?” The man of the hour speaks, eyes unmoving from the image of you through the lens of one of his pesky drones.

“Hey, you’re the one who’s supposed to be parenting, yeah? You chose to bring her in, you choose what’s healthy and unhealthy,” the elder boy retorts, a clear sass in his tone that reminds Bruce where Damian’s gotten it from.

“Hn,” the old man groans, “That doesn’t mean I know what’s currently the standard in teenagedom,” he grumbles more to himself than anyone.

“Have you tried, I don’t know, just talking to her?” Tim asks, an eyebrow quirking as he doesn’t try and hide the amused smile breaking across his lips.

“You’re one to talk,” Bruce teases the boy. He’s still somewhat resentful of the way he’d handled things with Stephanie a few years ago now. Leaving her in the lurch only for her to seek answers by prying into their life.

A huff of annoyance leaves Tim and he rolls his eyes. Pushing off the computer, he turns to head for the stairs when he spots movement on the monitor. Dick doesn’t seem to care, rather, he’s focused on fixing and upgrading his equipment. However, Tim had come to a halt, now watching from just a few feet behind the old man’s chair. His drone follows you as you get up, bringing an empty dish and glass to the kitchen. You don’t notice, of course, as Tim knows this has to be one of the nano drones, most likely disguised as a fly following your movements through the Manor just a few hundred feet above them.

It’s uninteresting, really, the way he watches you put your empty dish in the sink along with your glass. Your visage shifts, heading back to the living room, but doesn’t fail to notice the nano drone. “Spotted,” Tim announces, curious to see where this goes.

“That doesn’t mean anything. Most people aren’t fazed by an insect,” Bruce defends, finally taking his gaze off the screen for a mere moment as he turns to Tim. The boy watches as you step closer to the drone; the still fly on the fridge’s handle was easy to spot, and while your eyes quickly move on in an attempt to seem as if you hadn’t noticed the bug, not wanting to disrupt it or scare it away, you step closer to the fridge.

On top of the box lies an item you’ve been grateful for ever since you’d gotten your Mom to buy it for you offline. Easily stepping on your tiptoes you grab the object’s handle and have your finger ready atop the trigger. Now all that’s left is to catch it off-guard.

The amused look on Tim’s face makes Bruce paranoid; blue eyes racing back to the monitor, he watches as a tennis-racket swatter comes his way. Lifting the nanodrone up and off the surface he barely escapes the touch of the electric swatter. Bzzt! He’s hit. Flying across the kitchen and landing on the counter, he turns the drone around to get you in frame again. “And you thought she wouldn’t do anything,” Tim laughs. An error message pops up, screen turning red along with the artificial voice alert. Clearly you’ve damaged the drone.

“It only took twenty-five percent capacity,” Bruce announces, clicking different keys to get everything back to neutral.

This elicits Dick’s eyes as his focus shifts up to the situation before him. An amused smile graces his lips and he can’t help but sometimes pity the man. Bruce… tries. He means well, but he doesn’t always have the best approach. “Gotta say, this is better than reality tv.” His Father shakes his head and, attention finally returning to the monitor once again after being distracted by Tim.

“You risked a drone for this? Come on, man. This is your own daughter we’re talking about,” Tim chastises. Even if he’s still laughing and more than amused by this. If he wants to waste his tech, by all means, let them watch. It’s not like he can’t get more.

The men watch as you look around the kitchen, eyes taking everything in. With an occasional turn, and a flip of your hair, he’s spotted again! This time Bruce sees you coming before he can be squashed. Out of sight, out of mind, he thinks. “Honestly, I’m just lucky she didn’t spot me earlier. Ace and Titus weren’t the most helpful considering they kept tracking my movements, clueing her in. But she didn’t get me until now.”

“I’m impressed she even got you at all, honestly,” Dick comments, drawing their attention again.

“Not a fan?” Tim asks, curious to hear his thoughts. After all, he hasn’t been around as much considering things have been busy with school, and hectic with Stephanie. Therefore, he doesn’t know as much about you. He hasn’t spent as much time around you as the others.

Met with a noncommittal noise, Tim watches Dick shrug. “I’ve got nothing against her aside from what she said at dinner and obviously her hate for the BPD,” he trails off, a shudder running through him, “then again, she was kind of insane when we were moving her stuff. Threatened to kill us and all. Not really the type of vibe you wanna have running around the house, you know? At least, not mine, I’ll tell you that.” With a chuckle, Dick lifts the needle to his mouth, teeth going for the fabric since he hadn’t bothered to grab scissors.

Tim almost laughs along with his brother, that is until he processes what he’d said. “Wait, what-?!” Eyes quickly darting between him and Bruce, he’s suddenly alert. “What do you mean she tried to kill you?! What’re you talking about? Hey- why didn’t you tell me this?” He zeroes in on Bruce, determined to get an answer. “Does Damian know? Why am I the last one to find out about anything around here?” He complains.

“I mean she tried to-” Dick begins.

“She did not! Dick, stop exag-”Bruce interrupts, turning to face them and argrue.

“Bruce-” Tim interjects, eyes suddenly on your approaching visage in the drone’s visual. “Bruce!” You’ve got the fly cornered. With one swift sweeping wack, and a press of the button, it’ll die.

“What?!” He yells. As soon as he turns back from Tim to the monitor he’s too late. Zzztt!!! They all grimace and wince. An alert pops up on screen:

‘V I S U A L L O S T’

The options to ‘connect to different device’ or ‘relay input’ lie underneath the big text, but ultimately you’d destroyed the thing. With the click of a button Bruce closes the tab and the background feed of the Manor’s security cameras linger. Alfred dances in the office as he dusts along, presumably, to music—Bruce knows his routine. On another, you’re carrying the nanodrone on the electric swatter to the trash, disposing of the ‘fly’ you’d killed. Lastly, Damian is reading, doing his homework as he sits in an armchair by the fireplace in the Library, Titus curled up by his feet.

“Dammit! This is why you can’t just be in here. You’re either here for a purpose or you’re out,” Bruce dictates. “Dick is actually doing something, Tim. You’re just gossiping.” With a defeated drop of his hands to the desk, he raises himself from his computer chair and rounds Tim.

“You still didn’t tell me what happened,” Tim argues, the anger in his voice no longer hiding. “I’m tired of being out of the loop! What happened?” He demands. A sigh weighs Bruce’s shoulders down, and as Dick finally lifts his gaze to take in the men before him, he doesn’t dare to add any more fuel to the already burning fire.

“She was involved with Marin. Alright? She thought he was coming for her, momentarily figured we were in on it. Satisfied?” Bruce responds, turning to face the boy.

They all know he’s been hurt. That he has trauma… it’s no secret. Yet, it’s only in few and far between moments that the boys are able to see things for what they are in a crystal-clear view. This is one of those times. Their warped views on good and evil, right and wrong, revenge and punishment… they blur the lines of reality in ways he’s sure that you, a civilian, would never understand, and yet… Tim realizes the weight of this.

“Who-?”

“Angel Marin. Bludhaven’s biggest mob boss,” Dick informs. A ‘Hn’ leaves Bruce’s lips as he makes his way toward the stairs, and a sigh leaves Tim. With a grateful nod in Grayson’s direction, Tim follows after Bruce.

------

“You know, someone mentioned your birthday is coming up,” Bruce teases, a hint of a smile hiding behind his wine glass.

The quick flash of a smile overtakes your face before you try to hide it. None of them miss it. “Um… yeah. W-who said?”

It’s invisible, perhaps, to all besides those who know him best, however, Bruce pales at the question, faltering. While you’re good at reading people, you don’t notice. Whether it’s the subject matter or the way everyone’s staring, you simply wait for a response.

“Uh, the-” he clears his throat, eyes suddenly downcast as he reaches for his knife and fork to cut his steak, “the social worker! Yes, she mentioned it while you were in your meeting.” Obviously a lie. If anyone truly knows Bruce the way most at the table do, they'd know he found it in your public files and digital footprint.

“Oh,” you respond, putting on a fake smile as you too attempt to hide behind the meal. Birthdays can be a big deal for some, and others, not. It all depends, and you aren't sure where things lie in this family. You still feel like an outsider, despite their attempts, and you don't want to burden them further.

“We could have a party!” Damian suggests, to everyone’s surprise.

“You just want a party,” Jason comments with a chortle.

“Is there anything you want?” Dick asks thoughtfully, looking down at you from your side, putting you on the spot. His kind blue eyes stir something within you, and you turn your gaze back to your plate. Busying yourself by cracking your knuckles, your lips purse into a line. With a shake of your head, it’s clear no one is sated.

“There’s nothing you want? At all?” Bruce prods, eliciting your eye contact again. Lips pursing even more you shake your head again.

“Um,” eyes falling to your lap you collect yourself, not allowing your imagination to run wild. “You taking me in was enough. Thank you.” Voice quiet, everyone has their own reaction to your words, albeit unbeknownst to you.

“Oh, shut up! You know there’s at least one thing you want,” Jason teases from across the table.

“Oh? And what’s that since you know her so well?” Tim pries, knowing he’s setting his brother up. Jason hesitates, almost choking on his drink which elicits laughs from the boys, and an amused smile from Bruce. As bickering starts to ensue, you decide.

“I-” all eyes turn to you, “I want a party!” You announce. With a confident smile, you figure, how bad could it be? After all, parties don't need to be big! Something sweet, the family there, and a boardgame is all you'd need for it to be considered a party to you.

“See? At least I know what she wants,” Damian chides proudly.

“Oh? Well what kind of party would you like?” Bruce asks.

“Who do you want to invite?” Dick inquires.

“What’s the theme?” Jason adds.

“Actually, isn’t your birthday coming up now that I think of it?” Tim voices his concern over to Jason.

“Uh…” Jason shakes his head a little, taken aback, “I mean, I don’t really celebrate anymore since-”

“-the same day as Alfred’s, that’s right,” Bruce saves them, an unfazed smile on his lips, “though I believe we can celebrate both, can’t we?” While you’re not exactly paying attention, to the rest of them there’s a silent, yet menacing request behind his eyes. It’s clear they’re not allowed to speak freely anymore, no matter your new seat at the table of their family.

“Okay, but mine comes first- or did you forget again?” Damian asks with a bite. Upon the silence, he rolls his eyes and goes back to his meal with the exasperated sound of his breath hitting his tongue against his teeth. An audible ‘Tt’ sound.

“I didn’t forget, Damian,” Bruce clenches his jaw and grips his glass a little tighter. Does every family dinner have to turn into a fight? “You know I was with the Just-” he catches himself, “Hn- that I had to-”

“-just business calls… we’re well aware, Father. Perhaps you’ll do yourself a favor and won’t miss your other child’s birthday,” Damian finishes the conversation. “Not that I count on it.”

--------

Walking through the pool room, you’re focused on texting Daisha, intent on telling her the good news!

‘Omg you’ll never guess what just happened! I’ll hav-’

Splash!

A dissatisfied shriek escapes your lips as you stare at the wet stain on your shirt. “Really?! Dami-" looking up from your drenched navy tank top, your eyes widen and lips part.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I thought you were Damian.”

You quickly take in the super-soaker and the boy’s apologetic expression, and it’s easy enough to put two and two together. As footsteps quietly click against the tiled floors of the locker rooms leading toward the pool deck, you grab the boy’s hand and drag him back the way he’d come around the corner. There lies a linen closet between the pool, laundry room, and stairwell. With a swift hand, you open the door and shove him in, following after as you quietly shut the door.

A bemused smile appears on his lips as his eyebrows furrow. “You’re his sister,” he whispers with certainty, “I’m Billy.”

Whispering back your name, he repeats it. Visibly eager on saying something else, you place your fingers on his lips to shut him up. He follows your eyesight, both of you staring through the slats in the closet door. With a keen ear, he gets the gist and remains quiet. As moments pass, you can feel the boy, Billy, staring; curious, you meet his gaze only to find him searching your eyes. You can’t help but notice how pretty his are. Though you almost get swept up in admiring his features, you hear a faint creak only meters away outside the door; with a motion of your other hand, you beckon him to hand you the gun.

Transferred into your open hand, you slowly remove your fingers from his lips, cupping the barrel of the super-soaker while the other wraps around the handle, fingers ready at the trigger. With a head nod toward the door, you mouth the words: ‘On three! Ready?’

Billy seems to understand, as he holds his hands up in a ready stance to push open the doors. Together, you both mouth the countdown (which is really a count up, but anyway): ‘One… Two…’

“THREE!” Busting out of the closet, Damian is just a few feet from your right. It’s easy to spin and shoot as you’d been prepared, having watched him walk past the door together. Your brother had jumped, yet shot a few instinctive rounds of water, splashing both you, Billy, and the wall.

“Shit! What the hell! What are you doing here? Who let you play?” Damian curses, saying something in a language you don’t recognize, holding his gun in a stationary position once you’ve all recovered from the attack. His suspicious green eyes narrow as they dart between the two of you.

“I figured it was only fair since you didn’t let me know about your little game and I got caught in the crossfire,” you reason, pointing to your shirt with the gun.

“I accidentally shot her thinking I had you cornered, so…” Billy’s words die on his tongue. Without sparing the kid a glance, you shove the super-soaker back in his hands before offering him a grateful smile. At least you’d hit Damian once, you figure. With that, you’re more than happy to abandon the boys to their games as you walk toward the laundry room to see if your clothes are finished drying. That was the whole reason you were down here in the first place, after all.

“You didn’t tell me she was my age!” You hear Billy yell before a series of exclamations and curses follow with the sound of splashing water and rapidly receding footsteps.

--------

As stupid as it was to find your thoughts continuing to drift back toward a certain brown hair, green-eyed boy, you couldn’t help it. Though you’ve grown more tolerable of one another over the past few months, you still can’t believe that one of Damian’s friends is who’s on your mind. Nevertheless, fate would seem to have an amusing time linking the two of you together, constantly running into the other.

You suppose it isn’t strange after all, especially when considering he is one of Damian’s friends… however, you find him over the at Manor more and more often after the initial time he’d quite literally bumped into you.

--------

“Grab me a juice box? I forgot one too-”Damian’s voice echoes throughout the theatre as Billy yells back an affirmative answer and heads back toward the kitchen.

“Oh, hey-" You greet, backing up as a familiar figure exits the home theatre.

“Hey- what’s up?” Billy asks, a friendly smile gracing his lips.

"Was just gonna get a snack before we start," you tell him, "Guess we're headed the same way then," you tease. Walking down the hallway and up the stairs to the kitchen, you're aware of your brother's friend just a few steps behind.

“Are you gonna watch with us?” Billy asks hopefully.

“I mean, if that’s okay, yeah, I was planning on it." You respond jokingly, not thinking about it too much. It is family movie night. After all, you’re focused, wanting this popcorn to be good, not a burnt pile of charcoal.

“Oh, I didn’t mea-”Billy goes to correct himself.

“It’s fine. I’ll be down in a minute, I’m just making my own popcorn because the boys would eat it all otherwise,” you joke. Surely since he's friends with Damian he knows what the guys are like.

“That’s smart- that way you don’t have to share and keep passing it back and forth the whole time.” Billy adds on.

“Yeah. Do you want some? I can make another little packet,” You offer.

“Sure! I can do it though, you don’t have t-” He argues.

“-I don’t mind! I've gotta wait for it anyway and grab some bowls. So I'll see you down there!" With that reassurance, Billy offers you one last smile before taking the juice boxes downstairs.

The older boys and your Father had insisted you pick the movie considering it's your first movie night with the family, and while most of them had been dreading what genre you'd pick, everyone ended up excited to watch a classic comedy most of them hadn't seen in years. Snuggled up under the fluffy blankets with your popcorn and the laughs of your brothers all around, you couldn't help but enjoy the fun.

--------

Most of the summer felt like it was spent in your room. Whether it was trying to explore the things that truly make you happy, or being lonely in a place that still feels entirely all too unfamiliar despite the fact that it's been a couple months.

The material things did help at first, the new environment, the little gifts your Father and brothers would treat you to, like those little Squishmallows you'd always seen and wanted at the store, but never bought yourself. They were more expensive than you'd ever thought to casually pay. Nevertheless, you've started to make your room truly your own. With decorating, personalizing, and getting into your own sort of routine, it seems that everyone has been slowly becoming used to this new lifestyle.

Alfred insisted that as summer begins to come to a close, you all decide on either making time for a vacation, or perhaps you and Damian get involved in extra curriculars. In the sake of preparation for school, you'd taken up driving lessons as you'll soon be old enough to begin the process of obtaining your permit. Then there was also the announcements from the school you'll be attending in the fall; with sports and clubs gearing up for homecoming, tryouts were coming up. Your Father had insisted that Damian consider a sport this year, and Alfred equally has been trying to push you in any sort of direction that'll lead to getting you out of the house and your room.

Needless to say, he wouldn't let go of the idea that your mental health could use less isolation and more friends, hobbies, and pursuance of your 'passions' even if you're not entirely sure what those are yet. It didn't take long for you to succumb to your butler (essentially) grandpa's badgering. Though you have a plan in mind for what sport you'll be trying out for, you haven't revealed them to the family. The way they seem to share everything is... still new, and somewhat unsettling to you.

~~~~~~~~

forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic ,@moonlightsolo

hog taglist: @luvly-writer , @clairese1980 , @theroyalmanatee ,@azazel-nyx , @nightrose-18 , @vanessa-boo , @ih4temy5elfs0b4d , @agent-nobody-knows , @scarlett13 , @hoeinthehouse , @huhhuhh , @maxinehufflepuffprincess

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visionofhope04 · 2 years

Note

the reader also being a Pop-Star(I called the band The Gang(based it off the show “The Boys”)) AND a Vigilante at the same time. Here are some of MY personally headcanons:

- When she’s on tour, she does hero work wherever she goes.

- Her entire band knows, and are chill with it.

- She has a suped-up van like Captain America’s old mobile base.

- people connect the dots of Y/N and her Vigilante Alias and all come down to one conclusion: The Vigilante is obsessed with her band (Reader:…are these guys serious?)

If this is too much, that’s ok.

One Love, Missnght.

I. LOVE. THIS.

---

her band is super supportive

like “yeah go kick their asses!! wooooo!”

people begin to notice that whenever her band is on tour in the area her vigilante persona pops up there as well

50% of people think her vigilante alias is obsessed with her but the other 50% think they’re dating

why wouldn’t a vigilante want to date a famous gorgeous singer???

her van would def be all black and go insanely fast and be armed asf

she is rich after all

at concerts, people try to see if her vigilante persona is in the crowd

ofc they’re disappointed but they never lose hope

reader gets so many questions about her vigilante self it's insane

“Do you know (insert vigilante name) personally?” is the most asked question and the most googled question

reader usually answers with something vague that makes people have more questions

"What do you mean by personally?"

"????" the person is now very confused and does not know what else to say, effectively getting reader out of the situation

her band members find this hilarious

they def use this against her all the time

"you can't mash pineapple and apple together and shape it into a pen to make a pineapple pen! it doesn't even write!" "well you can search up (readers name) x (vigilante alias) and find fics, oh and you can stop being so ominous when people ask you questions about it ." "WHAT?!"

yeah people ship reader and her vigilante persona

her band finds this hilarious too

she doesn't share the sentiment

people ship it to the point where they make merch and sell it on ebay

it was readers birthday once and her band threw a surprise party that was her vigilante alias themed and they all wore merch of her and even got those birthday hats with her vigilante self on it

EVEN THE CAKE

reader did not know how to feel about this (she secretly liked it bc it meant they cared)

when shes injured her band members patch her up

they watched tutorials on yt once they found out abt her vigilante activities

they kind of suck but she's grateful and will never tell them that to their faces

she appreciates the effort

#batfam x reader #batfamily x batsis #batfamily x reader #batfam x neglected!batsis!reader #batsis!reader #batfam x batsis #batsis x batfamily #batsis x batfam #batsis imagines #batsis #these tags have made me write batsis a lot and now the word looks so weird to me

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secretsandwriting · 2 years

Text

The New Wayne *Discontinued*

Preview

When Bruce's kids are gone for a mission predicted to last 3 years, Bruce can't deal with (Temporary) manor empty of kids so he of course adopts again and starts training them as the new Batgirl, of course the day the adoption is finalized the mission is completed and his other kids are coming back home.

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Forever Taglist:

@butterfly-skinnylegend @fuzzycloudsz @truly-dionysus @ornebiglia @ironspiderstark @harleyq127 @goingwiththewind @mirdy47707 @batlover1303 @marbles-posts @ophelia-t-starks @theshippinglion @spoonful-of-sugar8 @cecedrake2217 @writing-mlm @y0u-should-be-scared-of-me @dreams0304 @caffineandanime @miniarchangel @hadesnewpersephone @marvel--unsolved @cipheress-to-k-pop @greek-meth-ology @humaneleanor @a-daydreamers-day @babybatjason @walkingdiaryforhumanity @watch-out-idiot @cloudie-skay @vintagexparker @screennamealreadyused @malfoys-demigod @caswinchester2000 @ladythugs @unadulteratedlyunique @romanceandsarcasm @battlenix @am3l1a-24

Series taglist

@marvelwasmadeforthebis

#Dc Smau #The New Wayne #Dc social media au #Bruce wayne #selina kyle #dick grayson #Jason todd #tim drake #Duke thomas #damian wayne #Barbara gordon #Stephanie Brown #cassandra cain #batsis!reader #batfam x reader #fem reader #ry writes

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e-nonsense · 6 months

Text

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗗𝗨𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗦𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗟'𝗦 𝗞𝗜𝗧𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗡 - 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵. 𝘰𝘯𝘦

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pairing. batfam x batsis!reader + platonic!matt murdock x batsis!reader

warnings. swearing, child neglect, mentions of an accident that makes you blind, canon/typical violence, nothing goes with comics, OOC matt murdock

wc. 1.2k

Jason had disappeared again, where to, no one knew. All that you had been told was he and Bruce had another one of their many fights, this time it had gotten physical.

You had only found out weeks after his disappearance. Having been in New York for the last two weeks.

You were amused to find out that he hadn’t actually left Gotham, instead he was sitting across from you munching down his burger, the sounds made were disgusting and you thanked whatever God out there that you couldn’t see it.

You listened with a smile as your older brother rambled on about how pissed off he was at Bruce, your unseeing eyes hidden behind a pair of tinted circular glasses.

The glasses were new, not the fact you were wearing them, just the fact that instead of them bearing the usual black tint you often wore it was now a dark purple.

Jason was the only sibling you confided in with your newest secret, a new name whispered amongst Gotham crooks and villains. He was against it at first, completely against it but when he saw you fight finally. His mind was changed.

If you learnt this much in two weeks, what could you do if you had two months. Or two years?

Jason wouldn’t this but he could see the Bruce in you, how quickly and how resilient you were becoming. Someone who could match the Batman in skill despite not having sight, he’d stick by to help you figure all that stuff out.

So for now Jason would support your decision, help you from behind the computer for now until he’d be ready to come back as Red Hood. But for now he could settle with lunch dates with his little sister during the day and helping you kick ass during the night.

“So, you going back to New York so this Murdock guy can train you more?” Jason asked with a mouth full of burger and you grimaced at the sound of his chewing.

“I might not if I’m going to be hearing your chewing in more detail from now on.” You grumbled, reaching out for your milkshake. Jason snorted in response, swallowing down his food.

“You can hear that?” He asks intrigued.

You only nodded in response, before shrugging. “‘S not much. Matt can heat heartbeats, but he said if i continue focusing and blocking out noises I don’t need to hear I’ll get there soon enough.”

Jason nodded along, you assumed by the sound of hair ruffling.

“So what can you hear so far?” He asked.

“Breathing, chewing, things far away sometimes, i can hear more sometimes and then other times i can’t hear anything at all.”

Jason hums, pausing to watch you, “you look happier.” He blurts out, “i mean compared to how you were, stashed away in the manor.”

You hide your smile behind the milkshake and Jason smiles, “I’m glad.”

———

“Breathe,” Matt instructs, hands on your shoulders. “Focus on his heartbeat, ignore mine, find him.”

Your breathing evens out, and Matt can hear your heart slow down, relaxing from your earlier training as you tried to find the heartbeat of the other man in the room. “I can’t—” you try to complain.

“Do it,” Matt repeats, “focus.”

Then you hear it, another heartbeat echoing through your ears coming from your, “left.” You mutter and Matt grins, ruffling the top of your head.

“That’s creepy,” Peter’s voice calls out, “it’s like there’s two of you now.” His footsteps get closer, stopping right in front of you.

“I should properly introduce the two of you,” Matt says. “Peter this is y/n Wayne. Kid, this is Peter Parker, he’s Spider-Man.”

"Spider-man?" You snorted, "what, were there no other names available?"

Peter groaned, crossing his arms like a pouty child. "Shut up," he grumbled.

"breaks over," Matt calls out and now its your turn to groan, all morning since you got back to New York he's been training you.

Starting with sitting silently in one place and picking out quieter sounds and now you were training to fight more.

Because no way in hell was Matt going to let you fight freely in Gotham city without further extensive training. So for now, you were getting your ass handed to you, and it sucked.

———

Bruce started at the screens in front of him, the sound of his youngest sons sparing in the background didn’t phase him, he was getting irritated with the new presence in Gotham. Some newbie calling themselves Duchess, a who had never crossed paths with him by some miracle.

actually it seemed every time Bruce arrived on scene, the Duchess just disappeared, as if she had some sixth sense for him. There was limited footage of her too, just little blurs of shitty CCTV cameras of a girl with a bandana tied around her eyes and in full black. Hands wrapped in black bandages, any distinguished features covered up, leaving the possibilities of her identity to thousands of candidates.

The only other thing Bruce had on her being her constant travel between Gotham and New York, specifically Hell’s Kitchen. But he got no leads from there, other than the Duchess being in cahoots with the Daredevil and his allies.

So, after hours of analysing footage, names and failing to hack into SHEILD’s servers, the only thing Bruce had gotten was that this Duchess being; female and lives in Gotham or New York.

“Nothing?” Dick’s voice comes from beside him, arms crossed as he leans back against the desk, sweating as he had just returned from patrol with Cass and Steph.

Bruce grunts in response and Dick takes it as a yes, “damn.” He mutters with a sigh, “well I’m heading home. I need sleep and I have work in the morning,” Dick says, stretching his arm, patting his shoulder as he heads up the stairs and out of the cave.

Was he actually heading home? No. He was off to do his own investigation about this Duchess. Hopefully he’d actually find something.

———

Navigating Gotham was easy when you had the heartbeats of the people who you want to avoid memorised. But New York? Not so easy, the streets were louder, busier, people walked around freely and not in quiet groups armed with knives to avoid being attacked.

At first the noises were overwhelming to your senses, but overtime you had learnt how to block out certain sounds, like cars, random clicking, rats, water, the unimportant things. And the noise became more bearable, you could tell the difference between human heartbeats and animal ones.

“This way,” Matt spoke, jumping over building to building with you following closely behind.

He had talked about getting you a suit made but until then the outfit you had on currently would do fine. The sounds of Peter’s webshooters were in the background, “are you sure about this? I mean she’s still new to this, taking her out on patrol might be a bad idea.” Peter spoke, trying to be a voice of reason.

“I’m sure,” Matt says his voice distorted due to the sound of an explosion in the background, the smell of smoke filling your noses.

“That can’t be good,” you mutter, nose scrunching at the smell.

“Definitely not,” Peter nods in agreement before the three of you head over towards the scene.

—tbc

#duchess au #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #matt murdock x reader #platonic batfam #batfam x reader #batsis #enzo writes [📝]

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emumu-mun-does-shit · 8 months

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If I'm to accept this, As all in my head. If I'm to believe, I wouldn't, in fact, Be better off dead.

I would have to be of some consequence, I would have to contribute, I would have to mean anything, To anyone at all.

If I remove myself, from the complex equation, Of the lives of everyone else. All of a sudden, that equation is easier to solve.

I am a burden to bear, I am certain to stare, At the ground and life, Like deer to headlights. Until the car of death, Sends me on my ungraceful trip.

#batsy writes shit

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scarecrowismybabygirl · 2 years

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Jonathan Crane my beloved.

Cillian for Numero Homme 44, badly photoshopped by yours truly. Photographed by Simon Watson, hair by Gareth Bromell, and Styling by Jean Michel Clerc.

#I shamelessly photoshopped glasses on him #cause I need more Scarecrow content #everyone's favorite babygirl #he's waiting for batsy to come back home #it's date night and he's late #writing down on his hand how late he is #he's gonna make him pay for this for sure #hell hath no fury like a rogue scorned #jonathan crane #scarecrow #cillian murphy #nolanverse #nolancrane #gotham rogues

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detectivemarvelingcomics · 25 days

Text

Not Your Classic Vigilante [Ch. 16]

Alternate Dimension AU TW: Language, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Slight Body Horror, Gore, Graphic Depictions of Physical Assault, Gun Use, Weapon Use, Talks About Traumatic Incidents, CW: OC Use, See the OC Guide [Here] Genre: Drama, Action, Angst, Light Comedy Pairing: Batfamily & Batsis!Reader, OC x Reader YN Pronouns: Female (She/Her) Word Count: 8.6K

(16/?) [First] | [Previous] | [Next] [DC Masterlist] | [Not Your Classic Vigilante Masterlist]

Notes: Coming out of my hibernation to drop the next chapter, as per usual, I will see you in many months (probably) AHjdhsjshkfhfdjs good news is i'm 5k into the next chapter so it shouldn't take as long as it usually does ahhhhhhh

2019

The sky is blue. Your eyes were as heavy as every limb of your body was too, but still, somehow, you could count the few clouds in the sky.

This wasn’t Gotham.

You could feel the blades of grass dancing around your fingertips, you could feel the dirt under your heels, and you could breathe air clearer than you’d ever experienced before, surely, you were in Heaven. You died and you came to Heaven, that had to be the only explanation. As you stood up you felt the creak in your bones and the aches in your joints, nothing felt natural, and nothing felt real. There was still a soft fuzz in your ears, muffling sounds, if any, from coming through to your senses. You held your hands out in front of your face and, just like that, the rush of memories flooded you and the pain picked up where it left off.

Breathing became gasping, clear skies grew dull and blurry, that soft fuzz became your own past screams, or were they your current ones? You could still feel the blades, you could still hear the rushed mumbles of your assailant.

“Damned thing,” you remembered their voice. “Where is it? Why can’t I find it?” They said those same things after they’d pull off a piece of skin or bone from your body. Eventually, you stopped fighting it. What could you do? They seemed to tear through your flesh in an attempt to find something inside of you, anything. And you think you caught a glimpse of it too before your eyes shut for what you thought would be the last time.

A glowing stone, oblong from what you could see, your assailant held it like it was the most precious stone in the world. That was inside of you? How? It was in your chest, you think, but the pain came from everywhere so you weren’t quite sure if that was true.

You clutched your hands to your chest. You couldn’t find a heartbeat, and you couldn’t feel your pulse anywhere else. You hit it, you clawed at it, and you soothed it. Your nails were caked with the blood that oozed from your weeping wounds. The slashes around your body looked somewhat fresh or maybe in the process of healing, blood still ran through them and it flowed over the previously dried stains.

You just died. Why are you here now? Your throat was burning and it was then you realized how long you had been screaming in the middle of this field of grass. You gripped your hair, feeling the strands being pulled from your scalp as your eyes racked over your wound-ridden body. Hot tears rushed down your face and onto the scars, leaving a deep burning sensation in their wake.

And suddenly you saw a blanket draped over you. A woman kneels before you, securing the blanket to cover your body. She’s speaking to you but no sound came through. She reaches over, wiping the tears and blood from your face with a handkerchief, and looks behind you, seemingly calling out to someone there, but you couldn’t move, everything hurt too much to. She holds your face gently and, slowly, the world settles around you.

“Breathe, it’s okay, you’re safe now,” her voice, you assumed, permeates your thoughts and everything stops ringing. You clutch onto the blanket around you and let her help you to your feet. You nearly stumbled forward from the pain shooting up from your ankles and you swallowed harshly with deep breaths following. You saw a man run up to the two of you and immediately supports your other side, helping you to their vehicle not too far off and settling you in the backseat. He straps you in and says something to the woman before they climb into the front seats and drive off. Your head hits the window next to you and you seal your mouth shut, hoping that you weren’t making a single sound. With no knowledge of where you were, who these people were, and what you were doing alive, there wasn’t much more to do than what you’ve always been good at. Observation.

The car stops in front of a home and the two help you out of the car again, leading you inside and seating you against a wooden chair.

In seconds the man opens the door and another larger man walks in. He had a large mask over their face that only allowed his eyes to be seen, but he was holding a clipboard with one hand and had a large bag in the other. He adjusts his lab coat and you feel his gaze linger on you.

The last thing you remembered before sleeping again was the woman holding onto your hand.

“You’re safe now,” her voice rang again. “Relax, you will be taken care of.” You closed your eyes.

And when they opened again, you were in a bedroom. Wearing a fresh set of clothes and with a few slices of bread and a glass of water on the table next to you, again your hands that were folded at your lap had taken your attention. The scars you had seen earlier were now dressed carefully with bandages, and they were everywhere. You lifted your hand, feeling the now numbed sensation from it. Nothing burned anymore.

You slowly picked up the plate next to you and started eating and, naturally, you downed the drink afterward. As soon as you had finished, the door opens again and the woman, seeing you awake, rushes in and sits on the bed next to you.

“You’re awake, how do you feel?” She asks aloud. You stare at her, then at your hands. “Are you still hungry?” She eyes the empty plate. You shake your head and she smiles.

“I’m Claire, Claire MacLennan,” she introduces herself.

“…” You kept your mouth shut, your words caught in your throat and your voice seemed lost to you.

“I brought you some clothes here, I’ve been moving a few of my old ones to this room so you’re welcome to borrow them,” she continues. You nodded slightly, and then you saw her expression change. “I know, I know,” she soothes you. You hadn’t even realized how much you were shaking until now. “You must have been so scared, it’s okay, take all the time you need, we can talk another day,” she says while holding one of your hands gently between hers. “Take all the time you need.” She releases you and steps out with a final smile.

With a harsh swallow, you pulled the covers back on top of you and you shut your eyes, silently praying that this was all a nightmare and that you’d wake up in your dorm room.

But you didn’t.

You continued to wake up in this same room. Eventually, you found the strength to even walk outside of it. Claire was always there, always helping you, and always soothing you. She showed you around the house and, silently, you offered your thanks. You were afraid that if you spoke you’d break the illusion of this dream, you were afraid that you’d have to accept it as your new reality. So, for a while, and with a selective muteness, you lived alongside this woman. You helped around the house, you went along with her to run errands, and for a while you watched over her bakery too. Nightmares plagued your thoughts every night, and every time she was quick to run over, hold you close and remind you that you were still alive, and just as fast she’d clean your body that had racked with sweat and fresh blood from the wounds you had subconsciously reopened. And soon it became routine, and you realized that you were starting to get comfortable, and that scared you. Her husband worked strange hours, he was always gone by the time you woke up, came home around the time you slept, and repeated that cycle. Then, one day at the breakfast table, a new resolve strengthened in you.

“(Y/N) Wayne,” your voice was hoarse and it felt foreign to you. And just like that, reality began to settle into you. Claire’s expression lit up.

“What a lovely name,” she replies. “I’m sure there’s much you want to ask.” You nodded and, trying to find your voice, you spoke again.

“Where am I?” You asked slowly.

“You’re in mine and my husband’s home in the Bloom District,” she answers. You nodded.

“Could I see a map?”

“Of course,” she pulls a small screen out from her pocket and places it in front of you, turning it on with a wave of a hand. You saw the holographic display spark to life before she opened a map on it. “Here we are,” she points at the glowing dot on the surface. You zoomed the map out.

True to Claire’s words, the district was called Bloom, the city you were in was called Haven, and the country was called Caelum. Strangely enough, a further zoom out showed you were still in the North American continent but it had a different name attached to it.

“Where are you from, (Y/N)? Could you point it out? My husband can take you back home.” Claire places a glass of water by your hands.

“Gotham, and it should be right here,” you point to its general spot on the map, seeing it empty. Claire’s face has a flash of concern for a moment.

“I see…” she says. She closes the map. “Do you remember anything from when we found you a few months ago? You gave us quite the scare there, if you’re alright sharing, what left you in such a state?” She asks softly. You leaned back on the chair and simply shook your head. You didn’t want to remember that. Claire could only nod. “That’s alright. You take your time, this is your home as much as you’d want it to be. I’ll talk to my husband when he gets home to see how we can help you, but until then do you need anything?” She asks.

“A cell phone, if that’s alright.”

“Of course,” she leaves the small screen with you. “Just call if you need anything.”

“I…” you wanted to ask her why, why was she helping you so much, why was she devoting her time to you, it’s not like she knows you, and it’s not like you know her. You would’ve never done something like this at home, you were raised to be careful and vigilant at all times but… maybe that’s why you let yourself relax around her, something about her countenance was something you selfishly needed at this time. And you didn’t want to wake up from that dream just yet.

You pick up the device. It’s lightweight in your hands with perfect angles, a small slit ran across it from one corner to the next where the hologram would project from.

“I’ll just… move to that room for now.”

“Of course.” You felt her eyes on you up to the moment you closed the door. You sat down at the chair in the room and looked down at the square device in your hands, after you copied her movements it sparked to life immediately. You tapped on the phone icon and stared at the number pad before punching in the first number you thought of.

“Hello?” A voice you didn’t recognize.

“Hello, I’m sorry to bother, is this Richard Grayson?”

“Sorry, miss, but I think you’ve got the wrong number.”

“I’m sorry about that,” you ended the call. Then you typed the next one.

“Hi, who is this?”

“Does this number belong to Jason Todd?”

“No, sorry."

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Barbara Gordon?”

“Who?”

“Hi there!”

“Hey, is this Tim Drake?”

“No, sorry, this is Leo!”

“Hey there, I was wondering if this number belonged to a Roy Harper?”

“Nope, never heard of him.”

“Hi, is this the line to Wayne Enterprise?”

“Sorry, ma’am, you’ve go the wrong number.”

You stared down at the device, looking at the series of outbound numbers. You knew you weren’t in Gotham, you were somewhere else entirely, but something about the confirmation of it weighed heavily in your heart. You were somewhere far, far, from home. For months you wanted to ignore it, you wanted to believe that you’d wake up back in the nostalgic smoggy skies, but no, you were still here. And so you did the next logical thing and you clicked on the News icon. You had to figure out where the hell you just landed. After skimming through the Sports, Health, and Culture tabs, you finally tackled the larger one.

Breaking News: The Royal Family Approves a New Law Affecting the Housing Crisis

2020 Templar Applications Open

Updated: Monster Hunting Board.

URGENT: Fallen Soldier Identifications to Cease in One Week

This Just In: Foreign Affairs Grow More Tense as Negotiations between the Republic of Chavent and the First Kingdom Press On.

Cease-Fire to Peace, the Negotiations between RoC and the Kingdom Soon to Conclude.

You continued to scroll through the various articles, reading through each of them to get a general sense of the world and how it differs from yours. Then you stopped on one article, recognizing the front picture to be the one of the men who helped you months ago.

The Now Captain Allistor MacLennan on his Recent Promotion Following the Battle at Keelfait Plains.

Following the First Kingdom’s victory on the Plains, the highly accoladed previous Lieutenant MacLennan led a successful charge against the Chaventian Army and was awarded with an immediate promotion. Despite the heavy casualties suffered, his efforts allowed for the cease-fire and the reopening of negotiations between the two nations. One year later he finally shares his thoughts on the subject.

“How do you feel?” You tore your eyes from the screen and looked at the man standing at your door. He looked identical to the one on the page right now. You tried to wave your hand over the screen to turn it off and he sighed, walking over to you and shutting it off himself by pressing on the side. “Allistor MacLennan, but you already saw that.”

“(Y/N) Wayne.”

“Claire tells me you’re from Gotham City,” he says. “That’s a long way from here, you know.” He was different from Claire, very, where she took the time to understand you, this man felt similar to your father in some ways. He was interrogating you right now, you could tell from the glint in his eyes. But that’s not what you care about right now.

“You’ve been there?”

“Once, a couple of years ago,” he says. You lean forward now. “Something happens to you over there?”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“…” You sealed your mouth shut.

“Looked pretty bad, surprised you’d wanna go back there.” You bit your tongue back and looked away.

“My family’s there.”

“Right, that’s usually what it is,” he pulls up a chair and sits next to you. “You’re from a different universe.”

“I figured.”

“I have to report dimensional anomalies to the Royal Family by law,” he sighs.

“Then?”

“They’re gonna execute you,” he says, sitting up straight. “More specifically, I’m going to execute you.” You looked down at the small screen in your hands. “Something tells me you’re not ready to go yet, though. Plus, Claire’d have a heart attack if I told her that, so I’ll pretend I didn’t know. You don’t seem the type to try to usurp a government, at least.”

“I’m not.”

“Exactly what a usurper would say,” he whistles. “Either way, let’s make a deal,” he leans forward with his hands folded in front of his lips. “I’ll do my best to find a way to get you home. All you have to do is stay here in this house.”

“What possible benefit do you get from this, moving through dimensions seems… harder than staying at a house does.”

“Claire likes you,” he says. He looks at the closed door. “I’m not home as often as I used to be anymore, and I’ve started noticing her getting quieter. She started talking again when we brought you in, really just talks about you all the time, but for a second she seemed more like herself so…” he clears his throat. “I don’t benefit directly from it, but it’d be nice for Claire,” he says. You nodded.

“Deal.” You’d been wanting to find a way to repay her anyway. Your shoulders slump down, a feeling of relief washing over you. “Thank you, I’m grateful to have been found by the two of you.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m just not in the mood for death right now,” he says. “But to avoid suspicions let's establish a cover story.”

“Mmhmm.”

“You’re a distant relative of mine, some cousin’s kid, alright?”

“Sure.”

“You’re staying with me for a while since your parents are busy. You used to live in Brefig Row before the war. Keep it vague, don’t give details.”

“Alright.”

“Do not tell anyone you’re from a different universe.

“Yes, sir.” You nodded curtly. “But… I don’t want to freeload, what can I do in exchange for your kindness?” You looked at the bandages around your wounds before you looked at him. He huffs.

“Claire owns a bakery and I’m a Captain in the Knightsguard. Which one do you want to do?” He asks. You thought for a moment, weighing your options, and it reminded you heavily of a conversation you once had with your father. Play it safe as a civilian or protect that safety as a vigilante. “Sleep on it. You don’t have to let me know now,” he says as he stands up. He walks to the door. “Claire’ll fix your bandages later, so stop playing with them.” Your hands left the ends of the bandages, you hadn’t even realized you were tugging at them.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t mention it.” He shuts the door. You follow, leaning your ear to the wooden frame and carefully you listened.

“She’s no threat, I told you.” Claire.

“I just have to be sure, Claire. It’s our job.”

“It’s your job. I’ve been with her these few months and she’s the kindest soul.”

“Claire.”

“I’ve been inside her mind, Allistor, she’s hurting beyond words.”

“I figured that from the five rolls of bandages Sam had to use at first, and then the dozens you’ve bought after. If she didn’t scream bloody murder she probably would’ve passed away on that field.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it,” her voice had a sort of stern tone. “I don’t want to push her, Al, but she’s not the only one they found. Dozens of people scattered across the world all with clean scenes and unexplainable wounds… none of course as significant as hers but still.”

“Right, I know, Sam’s been telling me to keep it under wraps.”

“I don’t understand what’s going on.”

“Neither do I, he doesn’t even want the Royal Family involved.”

“You don’t think…”

“I… she looks so much like her, I wouldn’t know.”

“It was shocking, yes. And her name…”

“Shh, let’s move somewhere else.”

Your breath caught in your throat and you opened the door. Allistor and Claire looked at you quietly.

“Yes, did you need anything?” Claire asks first.

“A pen and paper… please,” you cleared your throat.

“You’d be hard-pressed to find those,” she hums. “I’m heading to the market today, if you’re feeling up to it, why don’t you come along?” She smiles.

“Sure, I’d appreciate that.” Claire walks beside you and leads you into the next room.

“How about you, Al?”

“Hm? I don’t need anything. I’ll be in the office.” Allistor remained silently observing you until the door closed.

“Just wait right here,” she seats you down in their bedroom. “I’ll be just a moment.”

“Take your time,” you looked looked around the room and, with a quick furrow of your brow, you looked at her. “How… how did you do that?”

“Hm?” She doesn’t look over her shoulder and continues to pull out sets of clothes.

“My mind…”

“Ah, that! It’s my ability. They call it Empathy,” she says. “I can reach into your mind, understand what you think and feel, and I can walk you through it too,” she says. “I hadn’t used it in a while, I apologize if I startled you.”

“No… it’s fine, I needed that,” you say. She turns back around and disappears into the closet.

“I’ll be right out,” she smiles and leaves. Once the door clicks you make a move to pull the slightly larger sweater off of you.

Silently changing into the set of jeans and a tshirt, you looked around carefully. Picture frames of the happy couple, trinkets with stories behind them, and small hints as to their habits filled the room. You looked at one image in particular. Claire, Allistor, and a man with a mask, the same who helped you, probably. They were wearing uniforms that sported three gilded pins on their right breast. You stepped away just as Claire had finished and followed her out.

“Stand up straight in a single line, don’t move out of rank,” one of the instructors said sternly. You stood as straight as you could, glancing around at the other recruits with some level of discernment. You hoped that you wouldn’t regret this. “Chins up, hold your salutes! The Captain is arriving.” Allistor steps up to the incoming class.

“It’s gotten smaller,” he tuts. “Now that the war’s over no one wants to enlist anymore,” he shakes his head and lights a cigar. He stands in front of the first cadet. “Name.”

“Carter Adara, sir,” he holds his stance and Allistor moves down the line.

“Lucián Rubio.”

“Evangeline Chandler.”

“Kaila Anae.”

“Urbi Said.”

“Cosmo Volkov.”

“Seong-Ho Choi.”

“Nixon Jones.”

“Sekou Siby.”

“Alexander Wright.” Your ears perked up at this and your head whipped over to the voice quickly. Allistor was saying something to him and Alex maintained that rigidity you’d long known him for.

What were the odds? He can’t be the same person, surely. In new dimensions, there’s bound to be parallel versions. You wondered if you looked hard enough would you be able to find your brothers? Your sisters? Yourself? You snapped back to attention as Allistor made his way to your row of cadets, and when he finally got to you, you swallowed harshly.

“Name.”

“(Y/N) Wayne.” You answered curtly. Your eyes slid over to Alex’s position, and you saw him turned toward you, an expression as shocked as yours was just moments ago. Then Allistor moved on with the rest of the introductions. You kept your face forward, trying not to draw too much attention to yourself. Joining this Cadet class was probably one of your most impulsive decisions ever, but since that night that you first picked up a sword you knew this had to be the new path you went down on. You wouldn’t be content just sitting still anymore, you had to take action. But you wanted to do it the right way and follow the right steps, it was the least you could do to pay back the two who showed you gratitude. Allistor steps again to the front and you and Alex snap forward.

“Alright, to the 24th Class of Cadets, welcome to your first week of training. It will be difficult, you will want to quit, and you will wish you never signed up for this. Suck it up until your first advancement, once you take that you can quit, cry, or move on. You will follow your instructors to your respective areas and you will get acquainted with your group, you will be training, studying, and living together from here on out.”

“Yes, sir!” The responses echoed across the field.

“Disperse.” Allistor steps away and the instructors take charge.

“Adara, Chandler, Jones, Volkov, Wayne, and Wright you’re with me!” One of the knights called out and you rushed over. “I’m Lieutenant Syke,” he introduces himself. “I will be going over your drills…” and he droned on. You could tell Alex was looking over at you, seemingly studying your actions and likely wondering the same thing you were, but with present circumstances, you zeroed in on your instructions. “From here on out, you’re a unit together,” Syke steps between the group. “Three and three, these are your trios. For upcoming missions, you will act within these pods. Advancement exams are taken individually. Training occurs as a group.” He speaks as if he’s reading off of a list. You look at the two behind you. Alex and Carter. The trio next to you are Eve, Nixon, and Cosmo. “Alright, any questions?” He’s met with silence. “Then we continue with our tour. Training starts at 6 am sharp tomorrow, the schedules will be sent to your dorms,” he hands off the slips with each of your rooms on them. Yours seemed to be 7C.

“The thing with the dorms,” he says. “Well, you’ll know what I mean when you get there, but just know the higher your overall ranking the higher the upgrade.” He waves you all over to follow him, and while the group moved forward you stayed back, and so did Alex. The two of you look at each other a while longer before being called over and following quickly.

“Do you—”

“Are you—”

You both stop speaking and Alex clears his throat, gesturing you to go first.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” You ask him, the tour going deaf in your ears.

“Maybe,” he shrugs, “am I the familiar type?”

“You seem like the type to write letters.”

“And you seem the type to take forever to reply to them.”

“It’s good to see you, Alex,” a small smile settles on your face and he nods, pulling out a letter from his pocket and handing it to you.

“And so the last letter makes it to its destination,” he says quietly. You held it in your hands, it was old, folded, and starting to tear at some ends. In the corner was an international stamp covered with a ‘return to sender,’ in the next was the return address for Alex’s mother’s flat in London, and the destination was to Wayne Manor. “You can read it later, it’s nothing important.”

“Sure,” you chuckled quietly. It’s nice to see a familiar face so far from home… “What are you doing here?” You asked him, a hint of suspicion in your voice.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” he crosses his arms. “To be honest, I was just as surprised to see you here. One day I was at home, the next day I woke up on top of some building’s rooftop,” he keeps his voice below a whisper as soon as he realizes the Lieutenant looking his way.

“We’ll discuss more of this later,” you mumbled and he nodded.

“This is it, don’t be late tomorrow,” Syke stops in front of a door with an inscribed 7 on it, next to it is a pile of everyone’s personal items and luggage looking like it was tossed to the side. “You are all dismissed.” He steps away, leaving the unit on its own. Nixon clears his throat and grabs his things, leading everyone to follow.

“Uh… I’m Nixon,” he introduces himself first.

“Evangeline,” she says from the floor, trying to pull her duffle bag from under a suitcase.

“Cosmo.” The man pulls his luggage from on top of Eve’s items.

“Carter.”

“Alex.”

“(Y/N),” you were the last to grab your backpack, but the first to step forward and open the door. You stepped in and then to the side to let everyone in, but you could feel the disappointment in the air.

“Would it kill them to give us bed frames,” Cosmo nudged the mattress with his foot.

“Be glad we each get one,” Carter looks up at the exposed lightbulb. Eve eyes the one dresser to the side that had one drawer per person.

The room was just big enough to fit the six twin-sized mattresses, there was a small raised platform between the head and foot of each, and it had a small walkway down the middle. On the wall next to each bed there was a hinge and indent that dropped into a small table about the same width as the mattress, and at the end of the aisle, just under the one window, was the dresser. On the ceiling were two rods that stretched across the room lengthwise, each with a curtain at each end that was as wide as the mattresses to provide some semblance of privacy.

“Way to motivate your recruits to work harder,” Cosmo steps further into the room.

“This is the leading military force on the continent?” Alex grimaces.

“Well… I’ll take this one,” you dropped your backpack on the mattress closest to the door and Eve was quick to grab the one next to it. You’d slept in worse, you think.

“Anyway…” Cosmo picks up the paper on top of the dresser. “Here’s the schedule,” he holds it up and reads it out loud for you all to hear. Meanwhile, you and Eve untie the ropes holding the curtains up and they fall open, stopping right before the walkway. Everyone starts to act on their own, some fixing the beds and some unpacking their things into the dresser.

“We should grab something to eat, it’s around dinner time right now,” Eve speaks up over the silence.

“I could eat,” Cosmo shrugs.

“If anyone remembers where the mess hall is I’ll follow,” Nixon was next.

“I’ll go since everyone’s going.” Carter.

“Sure.” Alex.

“I’ll follow you all out, I’ll just finish unpacking,” you nudged your head toward your untouched backpack.

“Sure thing, we’ll save you a spot, (Y/N),” Eve smiles and the group filters out. You, meanwhile, open the letter.

Hey (Y/N),

Finally, you’ve responded. I hope all things are going well with you. I’m glad Roy’s been helping you out with moving into the dorms. Things aren’t too bad on my end, Uni’s been kicking my ass but what’s new? I was thinking of coming to visit again once summertime comes but that depends on whether or not I get this legal intern position, it’s at that firm I was telling you about in my last letter.

Magic studies are going just as well, Constantine is still the exact opposite of how you described him, I can’t see an ounce of kindness in that man when it comes to practice. I’ll show you a trick or two when I come over, I’m experimenting a little something right now and if it works I may be able to help out a lot more people than I would in a courtroom. I took your thoughts into consideration and tried a few spirit tricks and it’s been working out really well so far, I owe you a bout of gratitude for those.

How are you and your dad? Your last letter worried me, (Y/N). I know you miss them all, and if I can be frank I know you’re too stubborn to take the first step. I know it’s unwarranted advice, but you need a support system right now. Who better than your siblings, at least. Don’t shut them out, (Y/N). I’ve seen how close you all are, and it’s a shame if you let your falling out with your father stop that. You have time, don’t forget that. Your thesis will only be as good as you are while making it. Talk to someone, if not them, talk to me. You have my number now, and while I love the classic styles of handwritten letters, there’s a more efficient way at the palms of our hands.

Take care, (Y/N), and be safe always.

Alex

It was just a letter, as ordinary as the ones he’d sent you before and as ordinary as the ones you sent him. But it was proof enough, proof that you weren’t alone in this world as you thought you were. And that thought alone brought so much peace than you could’ve expected. A peace that you followed just to the next building, and with an empty spot next to him, Alex flagged you over and you were swift in your movements.

2020

“Ugh…” you wiped the caked mud from your face. You felt like you could barely move, your muscles ached with every step and your mind was in the gutter.

This felt like hell, and that’s saying something.

“You good, Wayne?” Carter hands you a water disc and you open it, not even thinking to answer until all the grime was off your face.

“Why couldn’t I have decided to be a baker,” you finally muttered, wiping the loose water beads from your face and hair.

“Last time I checked you almost poisoned half the squadron,” Carter laughs. “Come on, Xan’s waiting for us at the mess hall.”

“Run off, Adara, we’re just finishing up here,” Captain MacLennan swung his sword in the air and kicked yours back in front of you. “Get up, Wayne.” You did. You grabbed your sword and held it steady. “I asked you if you wanted to make a name for yourself, and you told me you wanted to be greater. Work for it.” You steadied your breathing.

“Tell Alex I’ll skip dinner today,” you readjusted your grip and Carter let out a small sigh.

“What are we going to do with you,” he shakes his head. “Don’t work yourself too hard.”

“Please, I’m just doing this much so he can let me take the advancement exam.”

“Good luck with that.” And with that, he was gone, and once you could no longer see his retreating figure, you charged forward. Every attack you sent was easily deflected, every defense you made easily broken, it was like Allistor could see everything you could do next.

“You’re too predictable, Wayne.” With the flick of his sword, yours flew out of your hand and buried itself yards away from you. “Change things up a little.”

“How would I do that?” You huffed.

“That’s not something I should answer,” he shakes his head. “Find your style. I don’t know who’s you’re using, but it doesn’t suit you.” Your breath caught in your throat.

Truthfully, you’d been trying to imitate Damian’s style, and it’s worked so far. He was the only one you had observed long enough with some kind of sword to even try to imitate and, funny that the Captain caught onto you fast. Maybe it was because Damian was two heads shorter than you, his fighting style had to make up for his height somehow. Or maybe it was because you’d never even considered holding a weapon until fate placed one in your hands.

Allistor tosses the practice sword into its bin. “You’re tired. We’ll stop here.”

“No, one more time,” you took your sword up. Allistor stood still.

“As important as it is to be stubborn and never quit, you should know when to fall back too,” he says. “Tell you what,” the Captain stands up straight. “If you’re able to disarm me once, I’ll consider you ready for the next advancement exam.”

“And if I can’t get it?”

“You never advance, easy as that. It’s the third advancement, a lot of knights stop after their second,” he shrugs. You tossed your sword into the bin.

“Fine then, you know more than me,” you snarked back and the Captain dropped his necklace.

“Go eat dinner, kid,” he ruffles your hair and pushes you toward the mess hall. “Those two are waiting for you, I know.”

“Ugh, I told them to eat without me,” you grumbled.

“Funny thing about trios, spend enough time together it starts feeling weird to do things without ‘em,” he grins and brushes the dirt off your shirt. “Go, eat, then sleep. Claire thinks I’m being too hard on you,” he sighs.

“Can you ask her if the Baker 2 job is still open?”

“It’s not,” he glares at you.

“Figured I’d try,” you threw your hands up and entered the mess hall.

“(Y/N)! We saved you some roast!” Nixon shouts.

“Yeah, we had to take it from those two before they finished it all,” Eve laughs, signaling you to sit next to her.

“Hey! We saved some originally,” Carter defends. “But your drills were taking too long and we figured it’d be a waste,” he adds quickly.

“You two suck,” you frowned and Eve reaches over, wiping the remaining mud from your face.

“Go eat actual food now, (Y/N), dirt can’t be healthy for you,” she says. You stared at the meal in front of you and took a deep breath.

One step to being greater, one step at a time. You were sick of sitting around waiting for something to happen. Now? Now you want to be the one who makes things happen.

And this group around you would become your new driving force.

“Shouldn’t you all be resting for the advancement exam?” You asked after taking a bite.

“What exam? We’re waiting for you,” Nixon steals a piece of bread from your plate.

“Oh, come on, don’t stunt your growth,” you rolled your eyes.

“No way, we entered together we finish together,” Cosmo tosses his gear down. You looked over at him, sporting a new set of cuts and bruises, he seemed to wince as he took a step toward the table. You didn’t miss the slight limp in his leg either.

“Easy to say for the guy who already took the exam,” Eve glowers.

“What?! (Y/N) said it was fine,” he pointed at you with his fork and you nodded.

“I’ll catch up to you all eventually,” you shook your head.

“No way, we take that exam together or not at all,” Carter chimes. “Plus, it’s recommended to take it in your trio, I have no clue how Cos did it without you two.”

“I’m simply better,” Cosmo kicks his boot up on one of the prongs of Eve’s chair, twirling some of her blonde hair around his hands.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she scoffs and scoots away from him, his boot landing heavily on the ground. She brushes her hair out and it lands on the other side of her shoulder.

“Ugh, gross, some people are trying to eat here,” Nixon gags and nudges you lightly. “Back me up, Wayne.”

“You should see what me and my ex used to do in front of my brothers,” you chided, thinking back to the times you’d invite him over to the manor. The way Tim would groan and grovel, at one point you just did it to make fun of them.

“Dear god,” Alex finally chimes in. “The paragraphs.”

“Still though, once we all advance we should have a party,” Eve hums. “Should be fun, I’d love to hear more about everyone’s hometowns,” she grins.

“Why don’t we celebrate Cosmo’s? You’ve gotta be damn good to do that advancement on your own,” your offer. “How’d you do it? Find a way to hack the system?” You asked him.

“Come on, you know me better than that, I do things fairly,” he says. “No point in a victory if it wasn’t achieved the right way.” On the cadet rankings Cosmo was consistently first. Archery, swordsmanship, hand-to-hand, you’ve even heard the Captain call him a perfect knight.

“Right, right,” you pushed your plate toward him. “I know you told them to give me yours so just finish it.”

“You did what?” Eve looks at him.

“Seriously, Wayne, just eat the food,” he grumbles.

“Man what a waste, I hate these vegetables,” you make a move to get up and he pushes the plate back down.

“Don’t waste it, no wonder you take longer than all of us to finish drills,” he says, dragging the plate toward him with his fork.

“Wow, the top of the class is nicer than he seems,” Alex whistles.

“Either that or I’m smart enough to know that making not eating a punishment is stupid if you’re training knights,” Cosmo defends. “Anyway, I’m serious, you need to get serious, Wayne, we can’t wait forever. What insane task does the Captain have you doing now to qualify?”

“I just have to beat him at a duel once,” you grumbled. “Tough luck.”

“Ah, the legend of the lucky dueler,” Eve says with a whimsical tone. “He’s never lost an actual fair duel.”

“That does nothing to make me feel better, Eve,” you frowned.

“How hard can it be, I know you’ve got a trick or two up your sleeves,” Alex says.

“Yeah, but none are technically mine. He keeps going on and on about how I need to find my own style, whatever that means,” you grumble. “I’m just annoyed that he’s actually barring me from taking the exam.”

“He cares in his own way,” Eve eases in. “It’s nice to see he looks out for you, you had a rough start.”

“Rough is putting it lightly,” you shook your head. You really did have a hard time adjusting. The nightmares, the ghost pains, and the day terrors. It was luck alone that you were found by him and his wife that day, and it was still luck that they took care of you after that all. To say you were indebted to them wasn’t enough, you should really credit your current life to them.

It was true, you wanted to make a name for yourself. When your mind became clear again you realized that this was your chance to start fresh, new, and different. In this world, Wayne is just a name. No bats attached, no dirty money to creep up on you, and no legacy to live up to. No shadows to loom over you.

So, on one of those sleepless nights, when the Captain dropped a sword in front of you, you picked it up.

And you haven’t put it down since.

It’s heavy in your hand, a simple short sword that had small chips along the blade and its handle was just as worn through. You ran through the motions with it now, practicing the techniques you had been learning and the techniques that got you to pass the first two advancement exams.

“Wayne.” You stopped your movements and looked behind you. Cosmo pulls a chestguard over his nightshirt while he yawns.

“Volkov,” you replied likewise. He picks up a sword and holds it at the ready. He nods at you, giving you permission to move first. You readjusted your grip on the sword and began to circle him, and all the while he matched your movements. With each nudge or twitch of your sword he copied you. “Playing games?”

“Trying to find out why you can’t advance,” he says. You nudged your head in annoyance and he copied that too. You narrowed your glance, and he followed. Then, you pivoted and charged forth. You expected him to block you, but instead he did the same thing and your swords clashed together. The sound of metal hitting metal filled the dorm courtyard, not relenting once and not slowing down. Then, you saw it, a flash in his eyes.

“You got an ability,” you said while the blade of your sword was pushing against his, threatening to cut his neck at a moment’s notice.

“I did want to try it out,” he pushes back and you hold your footing. That was the prize for the 3rd advancement exam, a specially bestowed upon blessing from the Royal family.

“Alright, Volkov, show me what you can do with it,” you pushed forward with enough force that he stumbled back.

“Sure,” he spins the hilt of his blade in his hands and you freeze. You knew this stance. Sure, he’d completed the advancement exam a while ago… “It’s called Mirror, by the way.”

“I figured.” How are you going to beat him? You racked your thoughts and tossed the sword down. He quirks an eyebrow up and you readied your fists.

He’s just a taller Damian.

You charged forward and he responded in kind, throwing out the same moves you had been practicing earlier. Mirror? He needed an ability to do that? You’d been mirroring your siblings since you got here. You evaded like Dick, you swung like Jason, you strategized like Tim, and you charged like Damian.

But even without you to be his subject, Cosmo was at the top for a reason. You swung at his legs and he stepped over, grabbing your arm and swinging you over him and onto the ground. Before he could think of the next move, you grabbed the previously discarded blade and slashed it upwards, stopping right at his neck. He bounces back and you stagger up. In seconds he rushes you, sending a flurry of strikes in every direction. You parry as many as you can, feeling the vibrations ring from your hands to your chest, but the fresh shallowed cut on your face proves you still have much to learn. You hold your sword at an angle and stop his final blow, then you turn it against him, flinging the sword out of his hand and once again slicing near his neck. A small line of blood drips onto his shirt.

“Alright, alright,” he raises his arms up and you drop the sword. “Good one, (Y/N).”

“You let me win.”

“I was just trying to find out why you suck at swords.”

“By mirroring my movements?”

“Sure.”

“And what did you find out?”

“Whatever style that was… we’re too tall to use it,” he shrugs. “You like to rely on your arms a lot, don’t forget to look down every now and then, and try not to trip over yourself in battle, geez, how the hell did you pass the first two advancements?”

“For the record, I carried those other two,” you snarked back.

“I worry for the future of the kingdom, then,” he laughs tiredly. You wiped the blood from your face with your sleeve. “Did you have to cut my face?” You shot him an annoyed look. Even dead tired Cosmo was a skilled swordsman.

“Blame the technique,” he exasperates. “And you, were you actually trying to kill me?” He pulls at his collar, the edges of it spotted with red. “Geez… Line’s gonna finish the job for this,” he pulls the chestguard off.

“I’ll tell Eve I did it then she won’t do anything,” you shook your head. You look up at the dorms, seeing one of the lights on and a few loud shouts coming from it.

“Carter bet against you.”

“Fucking asshole.”

“If I didn’t have this limp I would’ve won.”

“Sure, Cos, let’s have a fair duel once we move up.”

“Once you move up.”

“You don't have to be cruel about it.”

“Cosmo! You better not have overdone it again!” Eve’s voice rang from the window.

“‘Course not, beauty,” he calls back. “See you tomorrow, (Y/N),” he takes your sword from your grasp. “Go sleep, if I gotta wake up to you talking to yourself out here again I’m actually gonna lose my shit,” he says with a small smile. “Plus, Carter keeps bothering me to check on you.”

“Yeah, right,” you watched him enter the dorms before cleaning up around yourself. You grabbed your duffle bag from the side and walked into the dorms. When did your hands get so calloused? It wasn’t even a thought until you pressed the pads of your fingers to the bridge of your nose. The hardened skin around your palm was just proof of what’s happened and what’s bound to happen.

The third placement exam. The first exam promoted you from Cadet to Soldier. The second exam promoted you from Soldier to Knight, and that’s where most people stop. But the third… if you pass that one you get to have an audience with the Royal Family, and you have heard many a time about how the Captain would be sent on inter-dimensional missions.

Instead of an ability, you wondered if they could get you home.

Imagine the look on everyone’s faces. Would they be shocked? Angry? Happy? Sad? You had run through the scenarios so many times. What would you say to them when you stepped into the manor? What would you look like?

Would you cry?

You could easily see Dick’s face. The slow contort from shock to relief. Jason’s was just as easy, knowing him his jaw would be wide open. Tim would be next to you in moments, studying but meaning well. Damian would have his own ways of looking through you. Barbara would’ve seen you coming from a mile away. Stephanie would pick up where she left off. Cassie would be on the other side Tim wasn’t on.

Your dad…

You paused just as you reached your room. Your dad… dad… Bruce Wayne.

“What the fuck…?” You shook your head and leaned against your bike.

Why couldn’t you remember what he looked like?

You took steady breaths, trying to remember the details and, well, there he was. A tall imposing figure whose shadow you constantly walked around in. As a child and as an adult, the name ‘Wayne’ weighed heavily on you. As the named heiress you had a mountain of expectations on you from learning how to properly run the company to achieving something great for your namesake. You didn’t dare make mistakes, the tabloids would have your face plastered on them the next morning, and if you weren’t careful enough there went a large sum of money to keep them quiet. And for what? Was it because of your name only that you were so careful? Some days you wished things stayed simple, you wished you stayed with your mother and that you never knew who your father was. It didn’t matter that she was a liar, at least she was in a way more truthful than the Wayne facade you held for years.

“(Y/N)? Are you coming in?” Eve asks. You didn’t even realize the door had opened. “You look tired, come rest,” she takes your hand and pulls you in, shutting the door behind you. After many missions, after many evaluations, and after many battles, your unit has moved up to the higher-end living spaces. High enough that you each had separate rooms, at least. You and Eve shared one, Carter and Cosmo in another, and Nixon and Alex in the last one. The three rooms surrounded a significantly larger middle room, it was the least the knighthood could offer high-performing knights.

You sat down slowly, kicking your boots off and pulling your shirt off in the process. Then, you collapsed on the bed.

“Come now, (Y/N), you should at least take a shower,” Eve leans over you.

“I’ll wash the sheets tomorrow,” you mumbled, feeling your eyes grow heavy. You force one eye open. “Did you bet for or against me?”

“Hm?”

“Who did you think would win, me or Cos?”

“I bet in your favor, obviously,” she chuckles. “Cosmo’s too prideful to change his tricks, and after training together for a year you know all of them. I knew you’d win.”

“Thanks, Eve, that’s nice,” you yawn.

“Just like I know you’ll beat the Captain and advance forward,” she smiles.

“Sure…” your voice trails, and just like that you had fallen asleep.

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coupleoffanfics · 1 year

Text

Random things about y/n and Jeremiah cuz I can and I will. Also no one can stop me.

First Post — Second Post — Third Post

When y/n and Jeremiah start dating, he doesn't want it public. He doesn't want anyone knowing about it except for the few people they're both close to. And y/n was understanding.

y/n believed that the media would stick their nose into their relationship and do nothing except stress them out. Having people judge not only you, but your spouse wasn't going to help a new relationship.

The last thing y/n thought was that Jeremiah didn't want any extra attention because he was hiding from his twin brother. It wasn't an everyday thing, but we'll get to that point later.

Out of the two, y/n is the most affectionate. Calling him goofy pet names, kissing his cheek, and complimenting him on everything. She just wants to show how much he means to her. She'd also want to show him off to others because she's so proud that she managed to reel him in, but can't since they're supposed to be private.

One time her best friend asked what she even saw in him and she turned to them with a lovestruck smile, "He's got that nerd charisma." Her friend just rolled her eyes and thought to themselves, ‘He put all his points into intelligence and is still a dumbass.’

Months later Jeremiah realizes that his whole plan is not going to work. The whole point of dating y/n was because she was Bruce Wayne's daughter. By dating her he was thinking it was going to be easier to zip through the ranks and get paid big bucks. It wasn't really going to work because Bruce didn't give too much of a shit about y/n. And he'll give even less of a shit about her boyfriend.

After that revelation, Jeremiah planned to gently break things off with y/n. Maybe say that he wasn't ready for a relationship or something along the lines of that. He knew how she practically took his words as gospel and wouldn't go after him once broken up with since she'd blame herself for it. Far too caring to be malicious.

Just as he was getting ready for the big day to break things off, he stopped everything. His mind flooded with those little moments. Those were little moments to him, but not for her.

The day he asked her after their tutoring session and how flustered she got. Stumbling and tumbling with her words while she tried to hide a goofy smile.

The day she gave him a peck on the cheek before saying a quick I love you. Then running away, giggling herself. Not noticing how red his face was or how fast his heart was beating.

The day she baked him cheesecake for his birthday. Somehow remembering the one he mentioned that was his favorite and that he wasn't a fan of sweet things. The deep admiration forming within him went completely unnoticed.

As his mind flooded, y/n sat on the park bench worried. Grabbing his hand and slightly squeezing brought him back to reality. Suddenly this fine sunny day didn't look too bright for him.

When she asked if he was okay. The only thing that came out was, "I'm sorry." He didn't want to say that, it just flew out of his mouth. Everything just flew out of his mouth. His plans, the whole reason he even bothered with her.

At the end she just sat there trying to process what was just thrown at her without any warning. When she pulled her hand away from his, Jeremiah wanted to pull it but it wouldn't be right. None of this was right.

He explained he wanted to be with her. He really did, but he has to come clean if they were to keep going.

Telling him that she needed some space to think. It was a foreign sight to see Jeremiah who was normally stoic, so unsure. It was like he didn't know what he just said. That his mouth spoke on its own. Or maybe it was the heart speaking, no that sounded too cheesy.

Before departing Jeremiah gave her a kiss on the lips. They only ever, well y/n only gave him peck on the cheek. Though this wasn't a deep or romantic kiss, still just a peck, it would leave an impact on y/n. Though he was sure his words would loop in her head. Cradling both sides of her face and saying, I love you, left her dazed.

She was dazzled and frazzled. He knew it was kind of manipulative of him to do that, but he was being honest. So it's not really manipulation then, right?

It shouldn't have been too much of a surprise that she came running back to him with open arms. Their love for each other might not be the most pure. It definitely won't be when Jeremiah gets sprayed but I digress. y/n might be wearing rose tinted glasses too much and fears being alone, though it doesn't mean she doesn't genuinely care or love him. Jeremiah liked the fact how eager she is to make him happy like a lovesick puppy, it was precious. There was a semblance of innocence between the two.

Getting back together after the week break Jeremiah had to step up his game as y/n's friend constantly reminded him. Leaving little cheesy notes in her locker or slipping them into her bag because she was the one who usually did that type of thing. And he was just trying to reciprocate it. Getting flowers, no big bouquet or anything. Just a flower or two as it wasn't too flashy and seemed more elegant.

Dates were the same way. Nothing too out there, just cozy and simple. Movies, book reading together, studying, etc. Maybe baking if Jeremiah is in one of those rare moods to do something outside his comfort zone.

Let's say he lives with his uncle, Zachary Trumble. Probably washing dishes or being a waiter. Not allowed to cook. It's not that he's bad or anything, it's just that he takes too long. Trying to make sure everything is precise.

Zachary loves y/n. Mainly because of the weight and money behind her name. She's considered the most charitable Wayne for the amount of volunteering she does. Just imagine the publicity of people knowing that his nephew is somehow dating a Wayne and the people coming to the restaurant.

But of course Jeremiah strictly wants it to be private. Zachary understands and won't push it. He does think that Jeremiah is being too cautious since Jerome isn't even in Gotham because of the circus. Regardless it just solidified the fact that Jeremiah was so traumatized by Jerome that he is still paranoid to this day. Even if most of the claims were lies.

His uncle doesn't know of their week-long break. Though he did notice the odd lack of y/n orbiting Jeremiah, and when asked Jeremiah says she's busy. Which is fair enough, I guess.

When Haly's Circus rolled into Gotham everyone around Jeremiah noticed how tense and jumpy he was. When y/n and her friend invited him to join them to go to the circus he made up the excuse that he was sick. y/n wanted to drop everything to make sure he was fully taken care of, but her friend dragged her to the circus. Much to the couple's dismay.

The circus was fun and y/n told him all about it. Not before shoving a stuffed animal towards him. It had y/n's scent on it, but was overpowered by the carnival smell. He cringed at the nostalgic scent and would put it in the washer multiple times until the scent was completely gone. Then she brought up how she almost mistaken someone else for him.

"They were the same height and hair color as you. It was getting dark, so I think that's why I got confused. I was wondering why you weren't wearing your glasses or why your hair was messier. They say everyone has a look alike and I think I found yours last night." y/n chuckled to herself while Jeremiah was internally screaming.

Thankful that Jerome and y/n didn't interact. The idea of them even being near each other made his skin crawl. Thankfully though the circus was only going to be there for a week. It was supposed to only be there for seven days, no less.

The final night of the circus, a snake dancer was murdered. It wasn't anything new, it was practically the norm for Gotham. But the media had a field day with the story. Boy brutally kills abusive mother with hatch. The articles were everywhere with photos of Jerome.

Peers were looking at Jeremiah funny. Making a few jokes about how identical he was to the murder of the hour. Even y/n made a comment about how uncanny their similarities were.

Yeah, that sucked, but Jerome was shoved into Arkham. To be forgotten by the public and everyone alike. Jeremiah didn't have to worry about him anymore and wouldn't have to reveal his real identity to y/n. It was going to be fine. Just a bump in the road.

Jerome just loved to ruin anything that his brother had whether it was intentional or not doesn't matter. It was fun to get under his skin or anyone's for that matter. He's taken the philosophy of ruining everything and doing whatever he wants. If he wants that, he'll take it. Why? Because why not? His life is basically over when he is sent to Arkham to rot away. Life has taken so much out of him, so he feels that it's only right to have the freedom to do whatever.

Probably got acquainted with the Joker while in Arkham or by chance when he was burning down a homeless shelter. Joker and Harley were more of parental figures than Lila ever was tbh. Joker knows he's not living forever and sees Jerome as his possible successor. They are so alike. Joker wipes a tear from his eye when Jerome gets out of Arkham all on his own. They grow up so fast.

I could see y/n being the one the media reports on the most since she has more time since she's no longer running around Gotham in the middle of the night anymore. Rare posts on social media mean less for the public to scrutinize, so all they have is how she works with youth programs and volunteers. Leading the media to state that she was the charitable Wayne child. Any interviews she has, she lies through her teeth when asking about her family. Painting them as hardworking, busy, and loving family. Regardless of how she feels about the family's neglect towards her, she doesn't want to start anything.

Could see y/n going to charity events on her own from time to time even though she's not fond of large crowds or rubbing shoulders with people she doesn't know. Jerome just crashed the event with some of his Joker's followers. It was so boring and he just wanted to get the party started. He wonders how long it will take for the bat and bird to get there. Though honestly it was just a ploy. A distraction for Joker to set up his latest joke. Picks y/n out from the crowd. While he orders the others to start trashing everything, he'll just be openly flirting with y/n.

"Ya know, you're my celebrity crush." Jerome says. y/n almost didn't hear him over the gunshots and screaming. "Yeah?" Her voice was as shaky as her hands. Swallowing the lump in her throat, he looks her dead in the eyes and just says a flat no. Before grinding at her, "Or maybe you are. You look so cute and you have a beautiful voice. I wonder what you sound like when screaming."

y/n's heart just stops. She genuinely can not tell if that is a threat or an innuendo. Either one is horrifying.

Oh, my goodness I have an idea. I'd love to keep writing about this, but I don't want to spoil it. If I do actually write this.

While Jerome is having fun, Jeremiah is having a nervous breakdown. Learning about what happened at the charity event, Jeremiah is manic. His uncle can't calm him down and he's repeatedly calling y/n's number. When she picks up after six missed calls he is so relieved. He knows he can't keep lying to her again and asks if he can visit her. Of course she agrees, they meet up at the park. The moment is very reminiscent of before they gave each other some space.

But this time Jeremiah is not holding back on physical affection. It was only a hug, he was holding her hands, and just physically close to her the whole time. When he explained who he was and put a lot of emphasis on how horrible Jerome was and is.

Shockley y/n is understanding. Too understanding which makes him wonder if she knew to some extent. She verbally explains that it pained her that he didn't trust her enough to tell him after 3 years of dating, yet doesn't harp on it too much.

y/n is lowkey just thinking about how much better y/n Valeska sounds compared to y/n Wilde. Thinking of baby names that go with Valeska.

I have no idea how I'm going to portray how Jeremiah inhales the toxin. I think of it later and go into detail about the aftermath.

Slowly having these twisted thoughts that become more violent. It gets to the point where he isn't sure if can control himself from harming others. His skin is getting paler and dark brown eyes becoming hazel then green.

y/n is freaking out and has hired a team of toxicologists to try to find the effects of the toxin. If there was a cure or that maybe it was temporary.

It only gets worse and they both decide that a psychiatric hospital is the best place for him. He won't be able to hurt himself or others and he'll be there until a cure is found. y/n is constantly visiting him. Even if they're happily enjoying each other's presence, melancholy hangs above them.

Jeremiah's hair starts becoming green and the resemblance of the Joker is glaring. When his face was as pale as snow, y/n tried to cheer him up when insecure. Calling him an angel face and constantly saying she wasn't going to leave him. They were going to get through this together. Even if he no longer looks like himself, she’ll still love him.

Almost two months after the toxin has been inhaled Jeremiah is off. He claims that he's fine and actually better than ever. He's never felt so alive. He wasn't necessarily shy, but he definitely never had this self-confidence before. She wasn't sure how to explain it, there just wasn't something right.

And she was right. There wasn't something right and right wasn't ever coming back.

Holy shit I wrote so much. No one is here to stop me and it's 3 in the morning. I gotta cut this short.

Pre-Spray Jeremiah isn't a yandere per se. There wasn't anyone or thing that threatened their relationship. He could be manipulative if he wants, but it's not often. There isn't any that would trigger any yandere-ness. y/n is always at his beck and call. Nothing to worry about because he knows her eyes are on him and no else.

Post-Spray Jeremiah is so egotistical and entitled. Doesn't believe that y/n would or could fall for someone else. Clearly she signed the mentally fabricated marriage certificate. He now has a temper and can be plain cruel if he wants to. He will be so kind if she follows his rules, but he's not afraid to harm her.

#jeremiah valeska x reader #yandere jeremiah x reader #yandere x reader #reader insert #fanfic that I'll write maybe #delusional ramblings #jeremiah x batsis reader

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