#bruce disappointed-dad-stare wayne

[confessedlyfannish]

DC x DP Writing Prompt 4?? 45?? 2,321?? HUT!!!

"So you eat ectoplasm," Flash says hands clasped and index fingers pressed against his mouth.

"Ayup," Phantom says, punctuating with an obnoxious slurp of his goopy ectoplasm. "Does a not body good."

"But the place you come from is made of ectoplasm."

"Ayup."

"So you are literally eating the fabric of your universe?" Flash says, voice rising in pitch.

"No, the fabric of the Infinite Realms is space-time, same as Earth, well not the same," Phantom says, scrunching up his nose. "Earth is more cotton, The Zone is kinda stretchy...huh, like spandex. Neat!"

"But you're eating up the matter that makes you you--" Flash says, hands waving.

"Dude, everything you are was once a star," Phantom says, waving a hand at all of him. "Every last bit of you and everything around you. Star. Now replace it with ectoplasm, and we just cut out all the middlemen."

Flash watches him guzzle up the last bit looking faintly green himself. "That still kind of sounds like a justification for cannibalism."

"I promise to never eat you," Phantom says with uncomfortable emphasis, suddenly solemn. He stares at Flash without blinking until Flash, deeply unnerved, backs out of the room.

"Not funny," Batman says, flipping a page in his newspaper. "He was supposed to be on Watch Duty."

"Now Batman," Phantom drapes his tail across the man's shoulders and lets his fangs elongate and multiply.

"W̵̢̛͓͉̼͔͉͖̖̥͍̪̲̥̯̞̝͎͔̩̹̙͌̽̐͜ͅh̵̨̠̳̖͔̬̭̟̗̠̹͕̟̮̬͓̺͙̊͛͒ͅo̶̧̢̡̨̨̦͚̼̞̫͈͚̤̜͉̰̱̭͙̣̼͙̱͚͓͐͌̒̋̇ͅ ̵̡̡̰͙̠̦͙̼̘̪͈̻̟̙̳͚̤̮̖̱̎̐̀̇̾͛͊͛͊̈̋̈̋̿̍͑̔̏̎͑̒͗̚͘͝͠͝ͅs̵̡̹̣̗̼̙͓͖͉̒̃͋̂̄̄̈́͋̾̈́̀̎̉̓̒̇͐̎͊̚͝͝a̵̡̧͔͍͍͙͔͖̮̦͚͍̖̲͖͖̻̍͊͆̊̿́̿̅́̈͠͠͠i̴͙͙̾̌͊̓̂̌̒͒d̶̨͚̳̟̲̻̤͇͖̞͙̹̯͙̟͓͙͇͖̺̺̎͊͐̏͌̌̅̄́̏̽̓̃͂̓͜͜͝ͅͅ ̵̧̢͎͔̜̮̼̻̫̗̼͙͍͔̺͎͐̍̈́͜͜͜I̵̢̢̛̙̤̳͈̮̜̩͇͕̠̻̫̳̟̤̭͙͖̓̾̓̇̈́̂͒͂͌̍̎̅̑̇̔̇́͌͜͝ ̵̛̣̮̩̩̞̯̻̱̻̳͍̞͙̗̤̗̥͔̭̥͒͒̌͗̿͐̓̇̈̔̌͒̋̑̽̇͜͝ͅẁ̷̧̮̳̗̗͍̠̦̃a̸̡̧̛̛̺͈͍̟̣̫̺̟̗̥̲̻̥͔͔̲̱̣̩̠̖̰̿̋̄͆̀͋́̐̈́́̈́͌͆̅͂́̈́̓͗́̇ş̵̨̨̨̛̛͔̦͚̦̝̺̯̗͓̼̟͙̼̩̣̺̠̭̘͂̏̓̋̓̋̇̏͊̃͊͊͋̊̑̀͌̂͋͐͘̚͜͝ ̶̢̧͍͓̹̘͍̱̬̜̙̮̖̒̃͊̀̀̓̈́̆̀͐̇̿̀̇̿̆̔̂̈́͘͠ͅͅj̵̯̱̇̈́̌̈͌͆̋̑̇̋̎̐̈̇̓͘͘̚͝o̷̢̙͎̹̰̟̳̼̠̖͉̦̘̺̙͑͂͑̌̉͗̑͑̉͌͜͜͠͝͠ͅk̶̡͇̈́͋̈̈́̐̀̂̈́̽̾͌̂̾̊̑͘͠ḯ̸̢̢̢̞̱̦͙͖̱̙͕̞̮̫̱̣̤̥͍͍̫̗͔͙̞̘̓̂̄͂̿̉͒̈̍̅̍̅̍̏̋̕͘͝͠͝ͅņ̴̛͉̲̮̫̩̙̠̯̤͚̠̥̳͈̝͇́̂͑g̶̛͎̻̟͍̯̪̺̬͍̲̱͇̪̩̰͆̓͊̃̅͗̆̈́̊̈́͘?"

Batman lifts his head from the newspaper silently.

"Ugh, fine!" Phantom says, throwing his hands up. "I'll take next watch."

"Hn."

[eclips-moon]

Batboys finding you sleeping in wierd places headcanon:

Damian Wayne

"Bro, you can't keep doing this." Damian finds you sleeping in the weirdest spots, and he's lowkey over it. One time, you're passed out in the Batmobile, snacks everywhere, legs hanging out the door. He just stands there, staring at you like you're the most chaotic thing he's ever seen. “How do you even fall asleep like this?” But of course, he’s not gonna leave you there. He rolls his eyes, adjusts the seat, and tucks you in (very dramatically) like, “Don’t make this a habit.” He’s not mad. He’s just... concerned? But mostly shook by your ability to sleep anywhere.

Tim Drake

“I literally told you to stop drinking so much coffee.” Tim finds you asleep everywhere—face down on a stack of papers, in the middle of the Batcave, on top of the Batcomputer. He doesn’t even act surprised anymore. He’s just like, “Well, I warned you.” One time, you’re passed out on the couch, snacks everywhere, and Tim picks up the coffee cup you definitely spilled while napping. “I love you, but this is chaos,” he says, brushing some crumbs off your face. "Next time, please at least use the chair." He leaves a note with your next coffee: “You’re welcome.”

Dick Grayson

“You’re so cute, but like, also... why???” Dick finds you asleep in the kitchen, spread out on the counter like you’ve been hit by a truck. He can't help but laugh, but also he's lowkey impressed that you managed to fall asleep there. He pulls out his phone and takes a pic (because of course he does). “I’m definitely showing this to everyone,” he says, not even hiding his grin. You wake up mid-photo, trying to act like you weren’t drooling, but Dick just chuckles. "Gonna frame this one." You’re like, “Please, no,” and he’s already texting it to the group chat.

Jason Todd

“You’re literally doing this to mess with me, aren’t you?” Jason finds you sleeping everywhere—on the floor, under the Batmobile, sprawled out on the roof. He’s got that annoyed big brother vibe, like, “You’re going to get a crick in your neck,” but the second he sees you all cute and dead to the world, he can’t help but sigh. One time, he even gently picks you up to move you. You wake up in a daze, and he’s like, “I didn’t sign up for this. But you look adorable when you're asleep, so whatever.” “No need to carry me, I’m fine,” you mumble. “I’m doing it because I have no choice,” he responds.

Duke Thomas

“How do you even sleep like this?” Duke is actually concerned when he finds you sleeping in random spots, but at the same time, it’s kinda funny. One time, he finds you passed out on the floor of the training room, head on a punching bag like it��s your pillow. He’s like, “You... you okay? How does that even happen?” He sits down next to you and gives you a little nudge. “You’re making me look bad, you know that? I’m over here trying to be all cool, and you’re taking naps in the middle of the Batcave.” He laughs but also kinda adjusts you, “Next time, at least use a pillow or something.”

Bruce Wayne

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” Bruce, being Bruce, finds you sleeping in the weirdest places—and honestly, he’s just not even shocked anymore. One time, you’re passed out on top of the Batcomputer, legs dangling off the side like you’re part of the furniture. Bruce just stares for a second before doing the whole “I’m-not-angry-I’m-just-disappointed” thing. “Please don’t sleep in here,” he says, carefully moving you to a more... comfy spot (probably your bed, but he’s not gonna say that). He tries to keep it chill, but there's definitely a dad vibe. "You could’ve at least stayed on the couch." You wake up, confused, and he’s like, “Just... don't fall asleep in the Batsuit next time.”

[green-eyedfirework]

The first key to successful undercover work is to believe you aren’t undercover.  To truly inhabit the persona you came up with, to reach for that instead of anything else when scared or angry.  To think of real life as a particularly lucid dream instead of reality.

After half a year undercover, Dick thinks he’s pretty much got the hang of it.  It helps that the cover is so close to a reality that-could've-been--sent to juvie after his parents were murdered, ran away from his foster family after presenting as omega, on the fringes of society, wandered to Bludhaven and ended up getting in after Wilson's First Son spotted him while bartending and offered him a better job.

Also helpful that the circus never kept actual records, Dick was marked down as 'John Doe' in juvie because he refused to speak to them, and Bruce created his legal identity practically out of thin air, so there are only a handful of people that know the name Dick Grayson in the first place.  A combination of boarding school out-of-state and distance from his rich, reclusive foster father meant that he has very little of an online social presence, which of course, makes Detective Richie Wayne a great candidate for a long-term undercover job with the Wilson Mob.

The other key to successful undercover work is to develop a finely honed sense of paranoia, and right now, all of Dick's detectors are on screaming alert.

"What?" he said, staring at Wintergreen's unsmiling face.  Usually he didn't question his orders, but usually he wasn't ordered to accompany Slade Wilson to an unspecified meeting.

Every time he was in touch with his handlers, he had to tell them that Wilson was both suspicious and not stupid, it was going to take time for Dick to get close to him, but Bludhaven PD was not known for its patience.

"I said, your job tonight will be accompanying Slade as his personal guard to a dinner meeting," Wintergreen repeated, looking annoyed.

"Why me?" Dick asked, unable to fully suppress the anxiety.  Luckily, he was expected to be anxious--Dick hadn't made himself out to be ambitious and he hadn't interacted much with the elder Wilson at all.

"He requested you personally.  I didn't care enough to ask why."

"Calm down, Dickie, my dad doesn't bite," Grant snickered, his arm casually looped around Dick's shoulders.  "I've told him how well you performed on the Bulgari job, maybe he just wants to see for himself."

Dick turned to give Grant a tremulous smile and wished it was that simple.  But Dick had felt Slade Wilson's eye following him around on more than one occasion, lingering on him when Grant made his reports, and giving him casual once-overs that Dick had no trouble recognizing.

The real reason Detective Richie Wayne was sent for this undercover mission--the department had few omega police officers, and fewer that corresponded to Slade Wilson's reported tastes.  Of course, they couldn't outright come out and tell him to prostitute himself to the East Coast's biggest mob boss to get them intel, but Dick wasn't naive.  The 'hints' had starting becoming more explicit as his handler got increasingly impatient.

And now the opportunity had landed in Dick's lap.

"That makes sense," Dick said, suppressing the tight ball of dread and shoving it down.  "I won't disappoint Mr. Wilson."

Grant scoffed at the thought and dragged Dick out to head to dinner.  Wintergreen didn't say anything, just continued to stare at Dick with that unnerving gaze until Dick was out of his office.

Dick, for his part, tried to remember how to breathe.

[gothamite-rambler]

Wayne Family Thanksgiving

Context: Open invitation, Bruce Wayne, Thanksgiving, this is going to be fun.

Barbara and her father, Jim Gordon, exchanged light-hearted banter as they enjoyed Thanksgiving at Wayne Manor. Years had passed since Jim uncovered Batman's true identity, and he remained surprisingly open to the numerous revelations that followed.

Barbara (curious): Dad, I've always wondered—before you figured out Batman was Bruce, was there anything that hinted he might be rich?

Jim (casually): Well, when he crashed into things and handed me cash for repairs, I started to wonder how a man in a black batsuit could cover the damages, especially since it was the exact amount I needed—sometimes even a little over. I thought he was just anti-bank at first, but there were little signs I noticed even before I figured out you were Batgirl.

Barbara (focusing on one point): So he bribed you when he crashed into… stuff?

Jim: Fire hydrants, other cars, poles, even the precinct at times. If it wasn't a car crash, the fights he had with criminals led to extensive damage that I wasn't about to let go. It was less bribing and more invoices. And then there was the Bat-Signal. It took the first Boy Wonder to get Bruce to pay me the rest for that.

Dick smiled while eating.

Cass (intrigued): Was it just him causing the damage, or did his Robins play a part in that as well?

Jim (chuckling, nodding): His first son did a lot of damage, too, but his second son? Not so much. Jason was actually apologetic at times, even when he cursed me out.

Jason: It felt weird walking away after breaking something. Pretty sure my life before being adopted played a part in that. I hate cops, but I'm not an asshole.

Bruce (angry tone): Shut up. Just shut up.

Jason chuckled, amused at how annoyed Bruce was by the mention of his past.

Jim: Don't be too harsh, Bruce. You were the adult at the time, and I had my reservations about the times you made them drive because you were ‘too injured’ to do it yourself. Have you ever seen a nine-year-old drive a stick shift? It was adorable, but it also made me worried.

Dick (blushing happy): I was adorable and could drive? Aww, thanks.

Barbara (with a bemused smile): Wait, he had… those guys drive his car when they were kids?

Barbara pointed over to Dick and Jason. The two waved back, their amusement palpable, while Bruce stared down at his plate, mentally checked out. Jim nodded, taking a sip from his cup. Barbara burst out laughing while Bruce sighed and covered his face in embarrassment.

Jim: Looking back, it was funny. Bruce shouting instructions while they tried to back out of crime scenes was hilarious. They had fewer accidents than him, though. I can’t take that away from them.

Tim (stifling laughter): Did he start paying immediately when becoming Batman, or did it take some time and many invoices?

Dick (explaining): Well, it was a few years before Bruce adopted me. He kept refusing to cover his half of the costs for Jim setting up the Bat-Signal. Right, Bruce?

Dick glanced at his father with a mischievous smile.

Bruce (annoyed): I was a young, rich man! Give me a break! I paid him eventually.

Alfred (setting down a third pumpkin pie): After I had a little talk with him.

Barbara (laughing too much to eat): Alfred scolded you into paying? I love it!

Crystal, Stephanie Brown's mother, walked in with a glass of white wine,her only glass for the night, and shook her head in disappointment at Bruce.

Crystal: The Brit scolded the big bad Batman? I knew ya were always a rat bastard, but a penny pincher with ya money? For shame.

With that, Crystal returned to the kitchen, while Stephanie covered her mouth to hide her giggles.

Jim (wryly): At least he didn’t use the dead parents excuse.

Bruce (irritated): I’m regretting inviting you all. I’ve got two unwanted guests; one whom I detest with a burning passion. Can my one friend not mock me?

Jim (shrugging): Nah, I’m too old to show you respect.

Bruce (trying to remain calm): We’re around the same age!

Jim (smugly): Then I’m definitely only showing you minimum respect, and that’s as a friend.

Jason (raising an eyebrow, amused): Huh, for a cop, I actually like him now.

Bruce groaned as Talia and Ra's al Ghul approached the table, plates piled high with food. Ra's settled next to Dick, nudging the chair slightly and causing him to topple out.

Ra's (in a mocking tone): I hate you too, Bruce. Glad we can agree on that.

Dick (standing): Rude! You could’ve asked me to move! I probably wouldn’t have, but it’s the thought that counts. Jerk!

Dick grabbed his plate and shifted down a few seats to sit next to Damian, who was diligently enjoying his vegan Thanksgiving meal. Talia took a seat beside them, shooting Selina a sharp glare.

Selina (while scooping mashed potatoes onto her plate): You might want to change that expression; it just might stick.

Talia (snide): I can only hope you haven’t been a bad influence on my baby.

Talia stroked Damian's cheek. He was surprised at first but quickly turned annoyed.

Selina (sarcastic tone): Right, I’m the bad influence, not the woman who swears loyalty to an insane geriatric.

Talia: Okay, rebuttal: I look better than you, and my boobs are bigger! Damian, ignore that last part.

Damian (swatting his mother’s hand away): Already removed it from my brain.

Selina (biting back): The Lazarus Botox has clearly made you delusional.

Damian (interrupting): Mother, before you say anything else, I should let you know I can make Alfred throw you out. I invited you here without telling Father, but I can have you gone in a heartbeat! Sorry for not mentioning it, Father.

Talia (sweetly to Damian): Don’t apologize, tifl. I’m delighted you let us come. Convincing Grandpa was tough, but no one can resist free food and time with their adorable grandson.

Ra's: Don’t forget bothering Bruce. I don't even want to kill him; I just enjoy pestering him.

Ra's 'accidentally' spilled his wine on the table, the liquid dripping over the edge and making Bruce’s jaw clench. Alfred was taking a break but would likely remember that.

Bruce (through gritted teeth): I… really don’t want to keep talking because my child is present.

Damian: Hm? You can curse him out! Mother has called him worse.

Jim (enjoying the entertainment): I’m glad you invited me, Bruce. This is quite enjoyable.

Barbara: But you’re not going to arrest Ra's or Talia, are you? Although, no one would mind if you accidentally shot Ra's.

Jim shrugged.

Jim: They’re out of my jurisdiction, and I don’t want to waste the ammunition.

Jason: Okay, now I like him more. I had him pegged all wrong.

Bruce: Right, I’m opening the wine. You all suck.

Bruce stood up and headed toward the kitchen, hoping to find refuge in a bottle amid the chaotic family drama.

[miryum]

Sweetheart- Chapter 1

Summary: Jason Todd finds himself in a Groundhog Day situation and it won't stop until he finds his soulmate who's going through the exact same situation. But will you two stop being idiots long enough to too see what's in front of you? Not even the author knows...

Reader and Jason Todd have to repeat the same day until they realise they're soulmates, but once they do so, a soulmate mark will appear and their lives continue

Disclaimer: I know very little of the DC Universe (having never watched/read any of the movies/comics...) so please feel free to correct me on shit, but again, I took liberties with the ages and jobs (like, I know the majority of the Wayne kids aren't high school age and Bruce would never hand his job off, but I will stab canon until the pages of this fanfic run red with its blood)

ao3 link

Principal Gordon sighed and leaned back in his chair. “What is it now, Todd?”

Jason shrugged. “I have absolutely no idea. Mr. Queen just doesn’t like me.”

“Or is it that you were being disruptive in his class and harassing Ms. L/n?” Principal Gordon raised a brow.

Jason chuckled and crossed his arms. “Harassing her? I wouldn’t call it harassing. Just some harmless flirting.”

“Mr. Queen said you were throwing crumpled pieces of paper at her that had inappropriate pick-up lines written on them,” Principal Gordon said. “You also disturbed Mr. Allen and Ms. Grace?”

“Bart and Artemis are exaggerating,” Jason’s leather jacket hung around him and he shoved his hands in the pockets. “Just some friendly banter. They’re too eager to rat me out. I would take their words with a grain of salt.”

Principal Gordon rubbed his eyes. He was counting down the days until Jason either graduated or dropped out- whichever came first. “Mr. Todd, this has been the… what? Fourth time you’ve been in my office this semester?”

“Fifth, if you count the day you were out sick and Mr. James had to deal with me,” Jason added. Principal Gordon hummed and nodded in agreement.

“You’re a good kid and you know how I know that?”

“‘Cause of my dad and my brothers and sister?” Jason rolled his eyes.

“No,” Principal Gordon shook his head and he softly smiled. “Because of your grades,” he pushed Jason’s transcript towards the boy. It showed near-perfect marks. “And because of your behaviour- excluding things like this.” Jason looked down at the floor and scuffed his shoe on the tile. “It’s not just Mr. Wayne who’s convinced you’re a good kid. It’s Mr. Kent and Ms. Prince, too. You help your siblings and are extremely protective of them. You have compassion and loyalty, Jason. You simply exhibit them in different ways.”

“Yeah, uh, thanks, Gordon.” Jason stood and avoided the principal’s stare. “Now, if you don’t mind, the bell’s about to ring and I don’t wanna miss any more education than I need to. You know me- need to fill up this big brain with as much information as I can!”

Principal Gordon huffed, his moustache twitching, but waved him away. Jason grinned, gave him a salute, and dashed out of the office, slinging his backpack over a shoulder. Once he was out of the door, he let the smile drop, blowing a piece of hair out of his face. Jason’s eyes flickered to the clock, and on cue, the bells sang throughout the school. Automatically, doors opened and the halls were filled. Jason weaved and pushed through the students, intent on locating one person.

“How was ol’ Gordon?” An arm was slung around his shoulder and Jason groaned and pushed Dick off. 

“How’d you find out?” 

“Cass texted the group chat.” Jason dug out his phone and swore at the numerous messages he found waiting for him. Dick and Cass were gleeful, Damian was being a little shit, Tim hadn’t said anything, and Alfred and Bruce were overwhelmingly disappointed in him. 

Jason shoved the phone back in his pocket, ignoring the messages, and scanned the halls. 

“Idiot little brother,” Dick dramatically sighed, hooking an arm around Jason again. “But I don’t know if you’re more stupid in academics or romance.”

“Can you shut the hell up?” Jason asked, punching Dick in the torso. He rounded the corner and there you were. “Cass! Can you not rat me out next time?” He directed his attention to his sister who was leaning by your locker. 

“Jason! Can you not interrupt my conversation next time?” Cass retorted, pushing off the lockers. You shot Jason a look of disgustment and he winked back. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” Jason saddled up next to you. “Did’ya like my notes?”

“Did’ya like the principal’s office?” you shot back. “They might as well give you your own chair from how much time you spend there. What’re you clocking in? Four hours a day? Wouldn’t you say that deserves some compensation?”

“You would think so,” Jason said. “But it turns out I need to join the union first.” You closed your locker and started off towards your next class. Jason wrestled your books from you and you begrudgingly let him. “What’s that?” His voice lowered and his eyes fixated on a point on your arm. 

“Hmm? Oh, the doctor had to draw some blood a couple days ago. They couldn’t find the vein right away so it left a bruise.”

“No one touched you, yeah?” He lifted a brow and you shook your head in reassurance. “Good.” He shifted your books to one arm and his muscles flexed. Not that you were looking. He ran a finger over the bruise. “You know you could tell me?” Cass rolled her eyes to Dick who snickered.

“I know, Jason. You’ve been adamant about that. Now, if you could give me back my necessary textbooks, I would love to go to Science.”

“Chivalry isn’t dead, sweetheart. Now where’s your desk?” 

“Mr. Todd,” Mr. Kent exhaled as Jason entered the classroom. “Didn’t you already grace me with your presence today? What are you doing back?”

“Good to see you too, Mr. Kent!” Jason grinned. “Just dropping off my girl and then I’ll be outta your hair.” 

“Not your girl,” you corrected, though you knew it was futile.

“If you’re not dating anyone, you’re my girl,” Jason shot back. “And as I don’t see a soulmate brand on your wrist, you’re still mine.”

“Hello Ms. L/n,” Mr. Kent tried to hide a smile at the antics of his students. 

You sat down at your desk and greeted your neighbour, Roy. “Hello Y/n. Jaybird… ” Roy gave a shit-eating grin to his friend. “How was Gordon?”

“You asshole,” Jason griped. A warning bell rang and he slowly started backing up towards the door. “Goodbye, sweetheart. I’ll see you in English.” You hummed noncommittally in reply. “Goodbye, shitface!” he called to Roy, throwing up his favourite finger. Roy blew him a kiss.

“He is whipped.” Your desk partner whistled. 

“No, he’s not,” you said. “I don’t know what we are, but I’m surprised he even looks at me, and certainly not in a romantic way.”

“Have you seen him hold anyone else’s stuff? That boy would burn the entire school down if it meant your safety.”

“Have you seen him with his girlfriends? Plural.” You opened your notebook as Mr. Kent started his science speech.

“And when was the last time he had a girlfriend?” Roy rested an elbow on the desk, completely ignoring the teacher. 

“Why the fuck are we still talking about this? Science and stuff are more critical than my non-existent relationships.”

“Y/n, I think your love life will always be the single-handedly most important thing to me ever,” Roy said honestly.

“Pity that there’s nothing to be interested in.” 

“You realise you inadvertently belittled yourself.”

“Yes, Roy, I’m aware.”

------

Jason woke up to screaming and shouts. Another ordinary day. “Jason! Get up!” Tim banged on the door. “You’re gonna be late!” Jason groaned and covered his head with his pillow. 

The door flew open and Cass waltzed in. “I think I left my book in here last night.” She started rummaging around the nightstand. 

“Get out!”

“Come on, you’ll be late to see Y/n!” Dick called from the doorway before running off to shower.

Jason paused. Dick was right. He needed to get up so he could meet you at the school doors. Not that you wanted to meet him, but he was always there anyway. 

“Oh, there he is,” Cassandra laughed. “That lovesick fool.”

“Ah, shut up. What’s for breakfast?” Jason slowly stood, stretching his sore muscles. He had spent last night at the gym in front of the punching bag. The rest of his siblings had eventually joined him in the Wayne gym. Damian had challenged him to a sparring match in which Damian and Tim teamed up on him and barely managed to win. He was going easy on them.

“Albert made pancakes.”

“Sweet,” Jason tugged on his clothes and signature leather jacket. “Do you ever find it weird that Alfred is the owner of a multimillion dollar company and he still makes us pancakes?”

“Do you ever find it weird that Bruce is the economics teacher at our school and you still wind up in Gordon’s office every other day?” Cass found her book and started out of the room. Jason followed after her.

“Do you ever find it weird,” Damian called from the bathroom, “that Dad quit his job to start teaching the youth of Gotham City and handed his company over to his butler after I was born? Clearly, we know who the favourite is.”

“Do you ever find it weird that you guys are interrupting my shower?!” Dick stuck his head out of said shower, motioning for Damian to close the door.

“Do you ever find it weird that in a house of idiots,” Tim hopped down the stairs. “I’m able to stay sane?”

“Dude, same.” Cass fistbumped Tim and they shared a secret handshake.

When the family finally arrived at Gotham High, after Jason’s bacon being stolen by Damian, Tim absent on account of before-school extracurriculars, and Alfred flipping pancakes while sporting an apron over his suit, Jason couldn’t help but scan the crowd. It was a routine he had grown accustomed to.

You were stepping off the bus, talking to Artemis and Kori. “Go on, loverboy,” Dick snickered.

“Fuck you,” was his reply.

“Hey, Todd,” Cass called. “When we get back home, I’m gonna re-dye your hair. You’re losing the white streak.”

Jason groaned. “Fine,” he grumbled, biting back a remark that it wasn’t dyed. He had lost that battle a long time ago.

“What’re you reading today, L/n?” He snatched your backpack away from you, intent on keeping his chivalrous streak alive.

“The Fault In Our Stars, a reread,” you said. 

“You don’t have to prove it to me, doll,” Jason said. 

You took a breath at the new nickname, but were quick to bite back. “Prove it? I don’t know what you mean.”

“You don’t need to tell me you’ve read it before to prove you’re smart. You’re telling me it’s a reread cause you’re showing that you could be reading harder, more complex books but you “settled” for this one. But don’t worry, doll, I know you’re smart. Might even have to get you to tutor me.”

“I’ve seen your grades, Jason. You don’t need a tutor.”

“How sweet,” Jason placed a hand over his heart, pretending to swoon. “The Lady L/n thinks me as smart as she.”

“I never said you’re as smart as me,” you corrected.

“Care to make a little wager, then?” Jason held open the school door for you. Artemis rolled her eyes when he let it swing shut after you and she pulled it back open for her and Kori. 

“No,” you deadpanned. “Because I know whatever idea you have concocting in that little brain of yours will be degrading.” You paused at your locker, tugging your bag back. You said your goodbyes to Artemis and Kori, promising to see them later without a parasite named Jason clinging to you. 

“Get a better score on the English test today,” Jason proposed. “And I’ll leave you alone if you ask me to. But if I get a higher score, I get to call you my girl.”

“Absolutely not.” You shut him down but couldn’t help your competitive spirit spark up. “However,” you swung the locker closed and you could see a glimmer alight in Jason’s eyes. “If you win, I will allow you to take me on a date.” Jason’s lips parted and his tongue shot out to moisten them. His head tilted up, eyes still locked on yours. “Maybe you’ll finally get over your obsession with me.” Your throat closed up at the prospect. Not that you would ever admit it, but you liked the attention Jason was giving you. He made you feel special. He made you feel loved.

“Obsession?” Jason whispered. He adjusted his jacket, fiddling with the zipper. “Is that what- you know what, yeah.” His supposed confidence returned. “But I’d be worried, Y/n. I’m not sure I’d be able to get rid of you if you go on a date with me.”

Rid of you. “Yeah, sure. And this is on the likelihood you’ll get a better score than me in English? That is where I thrive, Todd.”

“Same, actually.” Jason smirked. “It’s my highest grade.”

“Then let the best student win.” You stuck out your hand and Jason shook it, ignoring the warmth in his chest he got from touching you. 

“I will.”

“Funny. I was just about to say that.” 

Jason brushed a hand over your bruise. “When you’re done with Fault in our Stars, have you read The Count of Monte Cristo?”

“No. Would you recommend it?”

“Highly.”

You hummed and grabbed his hand to pull him out of the way of a group of theatre kids. “I’ve always wanted to go to Monte Cristo.”

“Sweetheart, that’s an expensive first date,” Jason joked, gripping your hand tighter when you tried to tug away.

“Eh, maybe as a fifth date.” Jason felt his face ignite at your words. He would kill for the prospect of a fifth date with you.

“I have to ace this test, first and foremost.” 

“An impossible feat.” You elbowed the boy in the side before winking at him and darting into your first class. You collapsed into your desk, your smug demeanour collapsing too. When was the last time you had openly flirted with someone? 

“I can’t wait to plan the wedding!” Kori squealed. You groaned loudly in response.

Outside the classroom, Jason couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. “You finally got an in.” Tim appeared out of nowhere and clapped him on the back. “I never thought I’d live to see the day.” 

Jason couldn’t find an insult to throw back, something that in itself spoke volumes. “How was Coding Club?” 

Tim frowned. Did Jason ever ask about his extracurriculars? “It was good…” he said slowly. “We’re designing this robot to-” he started rambling as Jason sauntered down the hall, looking as if he’d won the lottery. And he hadn’t even taken the test yet.

------

Jason glanced over at you. You had finished the test a couple minutes ago and were now reclined in your desk, copy of The Fault in our Stars propped up and Jason could almost trace the crease between your brows at your concentration. He shook his head to clear the distracting thoughts and tried to focus back on the test.

Explain the significance of John Proctor proclaiming, “God is dead!” and then reciting prayers before his execution.

 Jason started scribbling out a reply and was soon caught up in his response.

Ms. Prince surveyed her students closely, looking for any sign of cheating. Her eyes locked on you. Ms. Prince always had a soft spot for you. You communicated and spoke up in class and definitely weren’t afraid to advocate for your beliefs. But she also noticed how you and Jason tested and battled each other. She noticed how the two of you willed each other to be better. You kept each other on your toes. Maybe that was one of the reasons she sat you next to each other. Maybe she could see the harbouring feelings. Maybe she just wanted to see some drama during the 160+ days she was stuck in school. 

Jason snickered to himself and Ms. Prince silently prayed to her gods that he kept his responses appropriate. She also prayed that you and Jason would figure out your feelings before the end of the school year. She wasn’t going to sit through your countless arguments and flirtatious comments for nothing.

The class eventually came to an end and Ms. Prince announced, “the scores will be released by nine o’clock tonight. Good job and good luck.”

Jason swept out of the room, giving you a wink akin to the one he received earlier that day. 

“He’s an annoying little bitch,” Cass muttered.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything, ‘cause he’s your brother, but yeah,” you agreed. “Incredibly cocky and self-absorbed.”

“Amen,” she slapped you a high-five before bidding you goodbye. Soon, one sibling was replaced by another and Damian ran up to you.

“Y/n!” he crowed, latching himself to your arm. “How’ve you been? Good? Good. Listen, do a guy a favour, will you? I’ve been with you this entire time.”

“What the hell did you do and am I going to get in trouble for it?” you hissed, but automatically pulled him on the inside of you, instinctively shielding him from any oncoming danger.

“Nothing, nothing,” Damian promised. He had learned early on that the answer to everything was deny, deny, deny. “But Dad may be finding glitter in his desk drawer right about now.” 

“Damian,” you groaned. “That’s a fantastic prank and I love you for it, but your Dad is not the type of person who wants glitter in their files. Next time get Mr. Kent.” 

“Ooh, good tip.” The boy let out a laugh that sounded a bit too evil for your taste and you refrained from smacking him upside the head. 

“Damian Wayne!” A shout came down the hall.

“Shit,” Damian clutched your arm. “Remember, I’ve been with you the entire time.” 

“I know the drill,” you rolled your eyes. “I’ve been graced with your presence far too much to not know how to act.”

Damian paused and studied you. You quizzically stared back. “I like you,” the freshman suddenly decided.  

“Thanks? I thought that was already established.” 

“I can see why Jason adores you.”

“Excuse me?!” 

“Oh, this is my class!” Damian beamed. “Gotta go before Dad catches me! Bye, Y/n!”

“Bye? But what do you mean-” The boy ran away before you could demand answers. 

“Y/n?” You turned around to find Mr. Wayne in front of you. “Do you happen to know where my youngest went?” 

“Your youngest? As in Damian? He was with me the entire passing period, but just went off to his next class.” The lie came easily.

Mr. Wayne sighed and ran a hand down his face. “You’re lucky I like you so much, Y/n. If you weren’t friends with my children, I would have half a mind to put you in detention.” 

“But you like me,” you reminded him, smiling widely. “So… you won’t.”

“As long as you accept my invitation to join us for dinner tonight,” Mr. Wayne negotiated. “It’s been too long since Alfred fed you and he’s starting to worry that Jason scared you off.” 

“I assure you, Mr. Wayne, Jason hasn’t done anything of the sort. And yes, I would be happy to join your family for dinner.”

“Good,” Mr. Wayne said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to track down my spawn.”

“Bye, Mr. Wayne!” You managed the rest of the day without any more surprises from the Wayne family. In History, Mr. Curry was clearly nursing a hangover, so he put on the “historical” movie Night at the Museum. During Gym, Mr. Allen (Bart’s father, a fact that the boy always lorded over you for no apparent reason) was adamant on playing baseball. Luckily, Kori and Bart were both on your team, so with the combined speed-Bart- and strength- Kori (you were always shocked at how much muscle she packed under her bubbly personality)- your team won by a wide margin. Other than the bet with Jason, it had been a normal day, one you quickly wrote off in the books. Ms. Quinn, the librarian, bid you an enthusiastic goodbye at the end of the day. 

“Hey, Alfred,” you said as you entered the Wayne Manor.

“Miss. Y/n!” Alfred smothered his smile. “It’s a pleasure to see you again. How’ve you been, my dear?”

“I’ve been good. And you? How are things at Wayne Enterprises?”

“Mr. Wayne left the company in good condition, albeit I’ve been making some changes with staffing and schedules. Our stocks have been rising and I can safely say that the company is in good hands.”

“That’s fantastic, Alfred. Though I can’t say I’m surprised. After running this household, running a company can’t be too hard.” 

Alfred was about to retort when Damian ran up to you. “Y/n! Thank god you’re here! I need help with my homework.” 

“You literally have four older siblings and a teacher as a parent. I don’t think you need me,” you said. 

“But, Y/n!” Damian whined and you questioned if he was a freshman, giving how he was acting like a kindergartner. “You’re my favourite!” 

“I can’t argue with that,” you conceded. “What do you need help with?” 

“Science! Dr. Isley is kicking my ass.” Alfred shot the boy a glare and Damian corrected, “She does not like me.” 

“Isn’t Tim better at Science? Or Cass?” After some debate, you finally gave in to the boy’s pleads. “How can I help?” Damian slumped down at the kitchen table which was already occupied by Dick and Tim. You figured that Cass was tucked in her room, independently doing her homework, and you pushed the thought of Jason out of your mind.

“I don’t know… just, help!” He opened his folder and extracted a worksheet filled with equations on density and force. You grimaced. You hadn’t done this in two years and wondered if you could coax the information out of the darkest depths of your mind. You had thrown the equations in the literal and metaphorical trash the second you stepped out of that class. 

You started walking Damian through the questions, simultaneously working on your Maths homework and frequently checking your email to see if your English score had been released. 

“Look what the cat dragged in,” a smooth voice sang in your ear. You elbowed Jason in the gut and he let out a groan. 

“More like, look what your brother dragged in.” 

“The scores just came out, sweetheart,” Jason smirked. “Shall we see who’s the victor?”  Cass groaned as she walked in, heading for the snack cabinet. 

“No! I need help from my future sister-in-law!” Damian cried. Jason turned red and looked away. Dick laughed loudly and even Tim pressed his lips together to stop a laugh.

“Damn right,” You held up your hand and Cass slapped it. “Cass and I are getting married and none of you are invited to the wedding. Except Alfred, of course.” 

“Of course,” Cass agreed.

“Just show me your score,” Jason tried to return to the topic at hand. 

“Fine,” you pulled up your email, a glistening new message from Ms. Prince in your inbox. Oddly enough, you didn’t feel nervous. You would be fine with either outcome, knowing you would never tell Jason to leave you alone. But he didn’t know that. Jason’s nerves were haywire, worried that the second you got your scores, you would tell him to piss off. “What’d you get?” 

“A 97, but technically a 92.” Jason proudly said. “I got extra credit.”

“Ms. Prince doesn’t give out extra credit!” you exclaimed. “What the hell?!”

“If you ask incredibly nicely and tell her it's for a good cause,” Jason said. “Then yes, she does.”

“You fucking told her about our bet, didn’t you.”

“Why yes, yes I did.” Jason looked incredibly proud of himself and you wanted nothing more than to wipe that cocky simper off his face.

“What bet?” Mr. Wayne strutted into the room.

“Nothing,” both you and Jason answered at the same time Dick launched into an explanation of the wager. Mr. Wayne side-eyed both you and his son before peeking at Alfred. Alfred gave him a small shrug in response. 

“Just make sure no one gets emotionally hurt, Jason.” Bruce said. 

“How come you’re telling me and not Y/n!” Jason stood up, looking aghast. 

“Because Y/n is smarter than that,” Mr. Wayne said simply. 

Ignoring his father, Jason rounded on you. “Seriously, doll, what was your score?”

You glanced down at the number on your screen and a silent war raged on in your mind. On one side, your pride stood tall, but on the other, your heart begged for something else. “95,” you blurted out. 

The room went silent. Bruce and Alfred exchanged a glance and Bruce immediately took out his phone and started typing away. Cass looked over your shoulder and hummed. Tim let out a low whistle and Damian cackled. Dick closely watched his younger brother with a pleased smile. 

“Wait, actually?” Jason asked. 

“Yes, Todd,” you sighed. “Actually.” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Bruce show his phone to Alfred. Alfred raised an eyebrow and you had an inkling of who Bruce had texted. 

“Damn, sweetheart,” Jason continued. “Did you throw the test on purpose?” 

“Just take the date, Jason.” You said, “I wouldn’t dwell on it. Though I am expecting you to pull out all the stops.” 

“You won’t be disappointed, sweetheart.” Jason pressed a kiss to your forehead and you pushed him away, ignoring the twists and turns of your stomach.

[strawberryforks]

quite the pair // jason todd x reader

summary: you and jason are bestfriends, partners, and you’re sick.

warnings: swearing, alludes to assualt, violence, throwing up

word count: 1961

there was more to jason todd than met the eye. he didn’t make friends easily but he was a good one. he had you, who he met in the streets, back when he was living there. who smiled at him and handed him a can of corn that had it not been unopened, he would’ve swore was poisoned. or a disguised explosive. or… well, he didn’t know, but nothing good ever came for free.

he needed to repay you somehow so he stuck around. he didn’t do anything but he watched. observed.

you were skin and bones; the picture of malnutrition. you shivered and your teeth gnashed against each other while you slept, leaning against the side of a green bin. you had a blanket for the longest time and then you didn’t. he’d come back from stealing and selling tires to find the only warmth you had was your own embrace.

your arms were wrapped tightly around yourself and you rocked back and forth. the only sound in the entire alleyway, as he approached, was your breathing and the thrumming of your head as you banged it lightly on the metal behind you. you heard his footsteps, heard them get louder, heard him get closer, heard them stop in front of you but still, you kept your eyes shut tight. you didn’t have anything else to give, you couldn’t help anymore, and more than that, you couldn’t bare to see the disappointment in someone’s eyes when you turned them down.

it was dark–you recall it being around midnight because moments before the footsteps, before meeting the boy who’d come to change your life, you were staring up at the sky. clouds were thick and dark but moonlight sat behind them, just a lighter patch in the sky, waiting for it’s chance. the stars, though, there were none. the closest to that you had gotten that night was when a man flicked away the ash from his cigarette. on it’s decent to the puddle ridden asphalt it glowed a deep orange. like a shooting star, hell, like a meteor, you wished on it. you don’t remember what you wished for, just that it came true. you felt wind in your face and fabric was draped over your shoulders, then there were hands.

“up you go,” jason encouraged. he’d pulled you into his side, given you his sweater, and got some food into you.

he’d more than repaid the debt but… you did your part too. you made him smile–a feat he didn’t think was even possible, having not used what he assumed were dead and decaying muscles, in so long. you told dumb jokes but they made him laugh so you didn’t care, you called him jay and you helped when you could. he kept you as close to him at all times as he could.

gotham was a dangerous place. it was too dangerous for someone as good as you, but he couldn’t help that. he couldn’t make the world a better so he had to make you worse–because your trusting nature? your tendency to see the best in people? to smile at strangers and go without so someone else wouldn’t have to? it fucking terrified him.

he brought you with him one night, and made you a witness to various crimes. each time, he quieted you, pressed his hand over your mouth and whispered horrors he’d seen. he told you how the world was and how it worked.

but until something happened to you, until jason came back from stealing and saw a man hurting you, you didn’t believe that the whole world was awful. until jason slammed a tire rim into him, staining it red and leaving him limp, you thought there was some good. then you didn’t. you realised there wasn’t.

and then? then batman took you both in. the batman. bruce-motherfucking-wayne decided to play dad to two homeless, orphaned, violent, and thieving teenagers.

at first he just wanted to take jason. he had no interest in raising a girl but when he looked at you, watched you hug jason, whisper “goodbye,” and saw you ready to sprint away, it was decided.

the world was selfish and in a way it had made you selfish too. but there was one person you were willing to be unselfish for and it was him. jason todd. your jay. you wanted what was best for him, you’d live on the streets, die there too, if that’s what it took. then, batman, who’d decided he also wanted what was best for jason, realised that it was you. you were what he needed.

both of you were placed in the backseat of the batmobile that’s tires, much to jason’s displeasure, were still in place.

then you were brought to your new home. it had more to offer than the occasional canned food and bread crumbs. you didn’t have to dumpster dive, didn’t have to struggle. there were heaters and blankets and stocked cupboards and even a butler named alfred.

batman didn’t have plans for you, just jason, who he wanted as his robin. you never liked feeling left out so you trained too. just… privately at first. sitting on jason’s bed (you weren’t yet comfortable sleeping anywhere he wasn’t and batman came to realise that superhero–super vigilante, or whatever, it didn’t matter because there was absolutely nothing short of attaching a ball and chain to both of your ankles that he could do about it) you swung your legs over the edge, them not quite hitting the floor, and made what jason thought was small talk. idle conversation.

“so, how was training?” he dabbed at his face with a cloth, collecting sweat, and sighed. he didn’t mind training, i mean, he thought it sucked, but liked that there was a goal to work towards, and that the goal was him being stronger, and that if he was stronger no one would ever be able to hurt anyone he cared about–there was only you–ever again. “what did batman make you do today? anything different?”

“well,” said jason. “we sparred today. i ran on the treadmill, lifted weights, and i think he made me do, like, 1000 pushups.” jason may have exaggerated there, but you didn’t quite understand. sarcasm, hyperboles, they weren’t your forte. it took you a full twenty four hours, but in sets of ten, you managed. you fought one of the pillows in your room–not well, but you did, and ran around the bed that you’d pulled into the centre of the room until you were panting. the next day you couldn’t spoon fucking cereal into your mouth but six months later batman finally caved.

“train me.” you said, not begging anymore–long past that actually. “i can do just as many pushups as jason can. i can run fast. i can do good, batman. i know i can. i know there's not enough good in the world, that it’s a shit place and that there’s shit people but i’m not one of them. i’ll do good, be good. i swear.”

“you can train but for self defence purposes. robin and i have the crime fighting handled.”

“i’ve been training. i want to train with you and jay. if there's something i can’t do i’ll sit out, you won’t have to babysit me, i won’t say a single word. just let me try. if i fail i’ll drop it.”

when batman tries to make you fail your odds aren’t great. when your best friend, his sidekick, taps out before you do, they improve drastically.

with the bat’s stamp of approval you kept training and training. you patrolled with them, with jason, and while jason was robin you were batgirl. at 18 (you) and 19 (jason) the two of you go out on your own without batman, he checks on you sometimes but doesn’t feel the need to chaperone you on your crime fighting endeavours.

it’s around ten pm, when the crime picks up in the streets, and jason is beginning to get impatient. you’re not the most punctual but right now you’re really late. he could start without you, scale a building and begin searching for some drug deal to bust or mugging to stop. he could… but he doesn’t. jason–well, robin, pulls out his phone and calls you. you’re in bed, not dressed in your suit, and it’s all you can do to roll over. you slide your thumb against your screen, answering with a barely audible groan. your face is pressed into the blanket and jason’s voice spills through the speaker. “where are you?”

“m’home…” you manage.

“what’s wrong? did something happen? home as in the apartment or–screw it,” jason is standing up, he’s checking your location himself, seeing that you’re at the wayne manor and sprinting back the way he came.

“jay it’s okay. i’m fine, just sick.”

“i’m coming home.”

“no,” you whine, “you have patrol. protect the city and the people. duty and…” you cough. rub your throat, “whatnot.”

jason doesn’t respond but you know he’s not listening. you hear the sound of clothes being removed and assume he’s changing out of his suit.

you roll your eyes, he really is stubborn. you try again “you’re a hero, jay.” what’s supposed to be a motivational speech is interrupted by a coughing fit. you slam your finger down on the mute button and press your face into the big bowl you took from the cabinet, retching.

when you’re done, you hit unmute. “you’ve got to do your thing and save the world.” your voice is scratchy, your throat hurts. your ribs too. you’ve been in serious battles less painful–against two face, the joker. being sick sucks.

“i plan to. but my world’s at home in bed, coughing her lungs out. i’m stopping at the drug store and i’ll be home, ‘kay?”

“okay…”

jason makes you stay on the phone until he walks through the door. he hangs up and helps you to the bathroom. “you should’ve told me you were puking i would’ve grabbed some pepto,” you shake your head, “wouldn't be able to keep it down,” and watch as he not-so-subtly attempts to slide the bag of your favourite candies behind him. your smile comes out pained as another wave of nausea hits and you’re in the bathroom dry heaving above the toilet. he holds your hair back (if it’s shorter, he rubs your scalp soothingly) and when you’re done, helps you back to the bed.

he’s walking around you, doting. there’s a water and ibuprofen on the nightstand, he’s brought you a heating pad, filled a hot water bottle, and pulled the blankets all the way up. tucking them under your chin. he’s checked your temperature twice and walks back in front of the bed toying with the thermometer. “jay, stop pacing.”

“are you okay? should i get alfred?”

“i’ll be fine. either leave so you don’t get sick or come here,” you pat the spot next to you and jason walks over, lowering himself down onto the bed and pulling you into his arms. he kisses your forehead, “my immune system seems to be a lot stronger than yours, batgirl.”

“mhm,” you agree. “all the training in the world couldn’t help that, robin.”

jason grumbled and you raised a brow. “still mad about that?”

“that you got the bat prefix? nah, i’m happy being a sidekick named after a bird. ‘course i’m mad. not at you though.” never at you is what he leaves out, “at batman. my hero name could’ve been way cooler.”

“are you telling me you’d rather be batboy?” you ask, tone incredulous.

he chuckles, shoulders raising in a shrug. “we’d make quite the pair.”

“we already do, dummy.”

that night batman covers for you two–he patrols and you stay in your partners arms, recovering. later, he helps alfred make you soup. everything is easy with him. even getting better.

[elise-51-blog]

WIP snip "Now and Then"

(in which Damian visits Kansas...where TWO Superboys live)

Jon spits out the window. He seems to have really leaned into the midwestern male thing for some reason. Damian wonders if this change could threaten their friendship in some kind of indirect way. Their respective fathers still seem close in a way Damian’s never understood. He’s always taken comfort in the difference between the two generations. However, he may have miscalculated. He hopes not. 

“Look, I need you to be nice today.”

Jon’s looking at him in that way. Hoping not to be disappointed. That hasn’t changed at all.

“I’ll be nice as long as he is,” Damian hates his own tone, so juvenile. It doesn’t happen around too many people. But really, they’ve talked about this already. 

“I just--”

“I don’t think I’ve been here five minutes, and I’m defending myself against crimes I’ve yet to commit.”

Jon stares ahead, taps his fingers against the steering wheel. He’s never still a moment. To his credit, he does look a little sorry, a little anxious.

Damian lets him off. “What’s that thing your father used to say when we came to town?”

Jon’s shoulders drop, he huffs out a laugh. “It always pays to be prepared with you Waynes. And then Bruce would go,”

Damian lowers his timbre just a bit, “That’s real cute, Clark.” 

They both laugh, trading gravely impressions: 

“Fastest man alive, and yet--”

“And yet always slowest on the uptake.”

Jon rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile there too. “Your dad’s got some good ones.”

“He’s always enjoyed a good ribbing. Especially with bumbling Kryptonians.”

Jon tilts his head like he’s listening to the sun. He might be. 

“You know he can hear you right now.”

“Of course he can. But is he listening?”

“I don’t know, Dami, is there a Wayne in town?”

“Please. He’s too busy flirting with Lex Luthor.”

“Careful, Detective,” Jon taps the side of his nose. “You might be onto something.”

Damian tilts his chin up. “I shall use the distraction to plot the downfall of all mankind.”

“And here I thought you preferred mankind. Men-kind.”

“Careful, Detective.” Damian taps the side of his nose.

Jon laughs, big and full, just like his father. Just like all the Kents. 

[autisticrosewilson]

Euthanasia: Aftermath

Characters: Willis Todd, Jason Todd (mentioned), Bruce Wayne (mentioned), Sheila Haywood (mentioned), Joker (Mentioned)

Warnings: Death, violence, implied/referenced torture, Willis loves his son but makes a lot of questionable choices, he also explicitly blames Bruce for Jason's death, this story can be read within the same universe as Spotlight Overture but like WAY in the future

Willis stares blankly at the grave in front of him. The weeping angel looms above, wings relaxed and stone gaze piercing. The sword it's holding looks real, almost out of place on a silent mourner. A vigilant protector, a sentry to look after it's charge.

He hopes she's more successful than he was. Than the Bat was.

He's surprised Wayne buried Jason in a public graveyard, but maybe he shouldn't be. Men like him don't react well to failure. Why would he want a reminder in his backyard?

Willis would scoff, but he's here to pay respects, and his little boy deserves better. Slowly, he reins in the cold anger simmering in his gut, the grief settling cold and heavy on his skin like mid morning fog.

"Hey kiddo," his voice is gruff but he doesn't care, he's honestly impressed he can speak at all around the lump in his throat, "it's been a while." What's it been, six years? Seven? He'd like to say he's been counting the seconds, but mostly it's been a struggle to make it to the next day.

Jason was supposed to be safe. He'd been content to never see his son again, as long as he was being taken care of. Jason wasn't supposed to die anyway.

He'd had so much ahead of him. School, and college, and marriage, and kids and whatever else he damn well pleased because he was a Wayne, and Wayne's always got what they wanted.

It's not a Wayne's name on the grave. This is the resting place of Jason Todd, and Todd's have always had rotten luck.

He avoids making eye contact with the grave next to Jason's, the tall headstone with the little cherubs carved into it. Sheila was no mother, no matter what that plaque says. He knows two wrongs don't make a right, but when he held Jason in his arms the first time he'd been sure his boy was the exception.

And Jason was. Smart, and witty, and sweet, and brave. Maybe if he'd been born somewhere else, to someone else, he'd have had a little more time.

Willis doesn't notice when he sinks to his knees. Doesn't care about the mud staining his pants or the rain drops starting to beat down on his worn leather jacket. He traces the letters of his boy's name with numb fingers.

"...Cathy said you were named after a hero." He tells Jason absently. "Did you know Jason means healer? You...you told me you wanted to be a doctor once. And you always made sure we kept the first aid kit full, even when the cabinets were empty. And you'd stay up late even on school nights for me to come home so you could put dinosaur bandaids on all my little cuts and bruises." His voice breaks on a wheeze and his vision blurs.

"Oh my sweet boy," he chokes on a sob, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry m'sorrym'sorry-"

He wonders, distantly, who it was Jason called for. Who he considered his dad when he took his last breath.

Wonders who Jason would be more disappointed in, if he could see both of the fucking idiots he'd trusted now.

If he were a good man he'd say he was equally to blame, that he doesn't resent Bruce Wayne, that he doesn't care who the last person Jason thought about was as long as it brought him comfort.

Most would say that he is stubborn, vengeful, and possessive. He wouldn't argue with them. Wayne had possibly the easiest kid to take care of in the world, and had still fucked it up. Wayne had all the means to take care of Jason, and yet Willis is kneeling at his son's grave. His son. His little boy. The baby he'd held in his arms, the toddler he'd helped walk, the kid he helped with homework, and took on fishing trips. The boy he taught how to fix a car and throw a punch.

He loves Jason. Has always loved him, probably won't ever stop until he's in the ground right beside him.

But there is a debt to be paid. A life lost is a life owed. The Alley has rules, and although Willis has never been good with those, this is one he wouldn't hesitate with.

The clowns back in Arkham, cheerfully locked away with hands drenched in Jason's blood. The Bat will not protect it from him. Willis will hunt it down and repay every blow tenfold.

He unzips the duffel bag at his side, digging around until under autopsy reports and bolt cutters he finds the tool he's looking for. The crowbar is long, a little rusted but sturdy. More than good enough for this job, he decides, gripping it loosely.

[zaceouiswriting]

The good Dad

Character: Bruce Wayne (father), male reader (son)

Universe: Somewhere in DC

Warnings: Fluff

You've never been more nervous than you are right now. Asking your father to talk was nerve-wracking enough, but sitting in his imposing office? That was something completely different. There are only two reasons anyone would set foot in it. Firstly, to do business with your father. Or secondly, to get yelled at. Which, unfortunately, Dick and Jason had to do many, many times.

For you, however, it was a first. Your hands were sweating, and your left leg was jumping as if you were preparing to break a world record while sitting across from your father, waiting.

Your father hasn't looked at you once. Yet your heart is beating ten times faster than it should be. Even a strange pressure affected your ears, making them unable to hear. The only thing that pops into every corner of your brain is: "What if he's gonna hate me?"

“So!“ 

The sudden, booming voice broke the self-imposed silence in your head. His gaze had lifted from the papers he had been working on, his mouth moving, but you couldn't hear anything else, terrified out of your mind.

"Son?" His voice sounded worried, which somehow had a calming effect on you.

"Y-Yes?" Your voice cracked with nervousness.

"Why did you have to talk to me?"

He didn't mention his busy schedule as he does with your brothers - to make them hurry - which made you smile inwardly as they always whine that you're the favorite, even if you don't see it that way.

"Uh-I-I..." When you tried to say it, you panicked again. Your eyes widened and even winced slightly as you imagined what might happen if you actually admitted what you were there for.

Your father rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Calm down. It can't be that bad."

"I fell in love," you suddenly blurted out. As soon as you understood what you were saying, you clasped your hands over your mouth and immediately looked away.

The older man looked at you confused and even tilted his head slightly. His two hands now lay relaxed on the table. He was worried because you've never been so nervous, especially in front of him.

"So? What's the problem? And why are you telling me this? It's not like I thought you'd never fall in love. Rest assured that I'll support you with whoever you want to be together because-"

"It's Conner. We've been doing so much together lately and-"

Without batting an eyelid, your father's calm, cheerful demeanor soured, "Absolutely not!"

Suddenly a silence fell over you both. Finally, you looked up again and stared at your father in shock. He gazed at you in disappointment, even slightly angry.

"But you just said you'd support-"

"Everyone except the Clark boy! He's bad news and would only break your heart!"

You were shocked. Conner was so sweet and caring. How could your dad even think he would do something like that?

“But Dad!“

"No buts, young man! I would care less if you wanted to be with one of your brothers!"

"First of all: Eww. Second, why? What has he ever done?“

Your father banged his hands on the table in anger. "I said no! Everyone except that boy!" He screamed. "I'll buy you the perfect boy if you want, but I won't let you date the Clark boy! Does he even know about your feelings?"

A bright red blush began to glow on your cheeks. Your father had brought up a subject that was uncomfortable for you. Even though Conner was touchy and slightly lewd, neither of you had said or done anything in particular.

Seeing the sudden sadness in your eyes, your father sighed heavily, got up from his office chair, walked around the desk, and sat on the edge right before you. He carefully lifted your head with one of his hands. "I mean it. You can be with whoever you want: I don't care if it's a boy, his age, or his ethnicity. Everyone except the Clark boy and, by extension, Clark himself."

"Why Dad? Dick and Jason never had restrictions like that!” you blurted out, getting angry yourself.

But your father just sighed. "Because they didn't want to get into the pants of people who weren't good enough for them."

"But Conner is a hard worker. Yes, he still has a lot to learn, but-"

"Little sprout!" he said sternly, silencing you immediately. "I'm just warning you this once. Don't even try to get together with Conner, do you understand?"

Defeated, you suddenly stood up. Forcing your father's hand off of you. "I understand," you mumble sadly.

"That's my good boy!" Your father said happily, pulling you into an unwanted hug. Out of nowhere, he put a kiss on your temple. "You will find someone far better, little sprout. Someone who truly deserves you!"

When he let go of you, your heart was pounding in your throat. It hurt like never before. Your father was always relatively distant. That he was like that made you wonder if it was still your father. What was refuted in the second moment, he sat behind his desk again. He ignores everything that happens around him, as he always does.

You left the room in silence, not wanting to disturb him again. With tears in his eyes, barely able to hold back the sobs, dangerously close to breaking free.

[Masterlist]

[theglidingbat]

There's a sever lack of ghostbat content and I need that to be fixed

Honestly I've been reading a lot of "bruce Wayne is not batman but his kids are still vigilantes and he's a doctor fic"

But like, what if he still went through all the training and shit like till about he gets that angsty ass break up with khoa and decides to call it quits. He goes to med school instead and becomes a doctor hiding away his trianing and shit.

I know damm well Minhkhoa went to his med school to convince him join the training being insanely disappointed that bruce chose to be a sane person.

Minhkhoa khan does not give up by the way

Finally they get into a big sparring match which bruce manges to barely win out of and they make the deal of khoa leaving gotham alone and bruce not meddling wherever his sets his camps bla bla bla

Years later minhkhoa gets the word that there's new vigilantes running around in Gotham and they're Bruce's childern

He comes to Gotham to check it out and baiscally annoys the shit out of the Gotham knights until the hero's of Gotham witness what they they was their "normal civilian doctor dad" beat the shit out of this vigilante pulling all sorts of moves while they just watch shocked.

Even better if khoa is back with bruce and the kids think that their poor father has no idea BUT NOPE

Bruce is well aware and he's more aware of his kids running around in spandex and kevlar [minhkhoa laughed at him as he a mental breakdown about it]

Bruce is also well aware that his childern are stubborn af and eventually stops trying to get them to give up without hinting he already knows.

Also the idea of batman or vigilante bruce only appearing once to save his kids or to beat khoa's ass is amazing.

The kids (escpically dick and Jason who only know the med school stuff) try to scare away minhkhoa and eventually tell their dad everything

Only to be led with a blank stare and a "is that all?" As Bruce sips his coffee in classic Tired dadtm fashion

I also just want doctor bruce patching up his vigilante boyfriend and scolding him for being care less only for khoa to scoff and go "you were and are much worse"

[ficreadergirl]

Dangerous Inquiries (ch.6)

When you woke up you noticed the sun already up. You checked your phone. 4:00am. Your first class started at 7am. You remembered your professors gave you this week to pull yourself together but you didn't wanna spend more time in your quiet house. You decided to make coffee. You made coffee and started eating breakfast. When you finished eating breakfast you went into the bathroom to freshen up and get dressed in clothes suitable for going to school. As soon as you were done fixing up you head downstairs. Your door knocked. You looked at the peephole and saw Kory. You pulled the door open. She was carrying a bag full of books, flowers and other things. "I brought your stuff!" she smiled. "Thank you!" you hugged her tightly. "Why are you wearing these?" she asked. "I'm going to the class." you answered. "Are you sure?" she asked concerned. "Yeah. I'll be okay." She nodded and smiled. "Okay. Then I'm driving you there." "Thanks." you grabbed your bag and headed to the car. While she was driving you asked "Do you know about Jason Todd?". She looked at you confused "Of course. He's Dick's brother. Bruce's other kid. What happened him?" You explained everything. You told her what had happened. She remained silent during the whole story. After you finished talking, Kory said "You should stay away from him Y/n." "Why?" you asked. Kory hesitated for some seconds. She seemed reluctant in telling you something. "He's trouble." she said eventually. "Well. It didn't surprise me." you shrugged. Kory chuckled slightly. You arrived to the collage in time. "Thanks for the drive." "Anytime sweetheart." she said with a smile. After 2 hours of class you wanted to go to library. Library wasn't crowded. You quickly sat on one of the tables. You turned on your computer. Started to search for Jason Todd. You didn't find anything except a correction Jason T. WAYNE. There weren't any photos of Mr.Todd with other people. You started checking social media. He didn't have any account. He didn't seem to be as active as his brother. You sighed disappointed. You checked some old news about your dad. He was really famous for many things. He was really successful antiquist in Gotham. People loved him. A lot. He was always a problem solver for everyone he met. Even he was busy most of the time and always working. So how did someone like that could get murdered? You were really upset. You felt horrible. Your hands were trembling with anger. You felt like crying. You needed someone to talk to. Someone who understands your pain. Dick was the first name you thought. He also lost his parents when he was little child. He could give you guidance on how to get over this pain. While you were thinking about Dick you also remembered Jason was adopted by Bruce too. Why would he ask questions about your father's murder? His father was also murdered? You couldn't stop thinking about it. It was making you feel numb. You were looking your father's pictures and trying to not to cry. Then you went back to your Jason Todd search. Still nothing. He didn't seem to exist except being adopted by Bruce Wayne. Your head was pounding with questions. You closed the lid of the laptop. You leaned your forehead on the surface of the table. You closed your eyes tight. You felt dizzy. You were exhausted. Your stomach growled loudly. You picked up your bag filled with books and stood up. You started walking towards the exit. Suddenly you stopped. You felt someone watching you. You looked behind you to see the person. You saw white haired woman with eyepatch. She was sitting at a table near the window and was staring at you intently. You felt like she was analyzing you. You tried to remember if you knew her. But you couldn't. You didn't know her. She just watched you from afar. You felt uneasy. Her presence scared you. Without knowing why. You suddenly turned around and walked outside without paying attention to the woman.

Read more

[loony-crezo]

Love love LOVE this post.

Here is my take on it when Danny continues to bullshit his way into the family.

---

Day 1

Danny beams at them at the breakfast table. "Did you sleep well?", he asked.

"Tt", replied Damian, "We were out for most of the night. Don't ask obvious questions Daniel."

"Damiiii", Danny whined, eliciting a smirk from Damian.

The rest of the family are stunned to see a side of Damian they rarely see.

Damian noticed them staring. He scowled and raised his eyebrow, "Well, what are you all standing there for? Let us join my brother at the table"

Day 7

Dick saw Danny( his youngest brother, his batling, his forgotten beloved brother ) exiting from the kitchen, carrying a tray full of snacks.

He blinked.

"Danny, what do you have there?", Dick asked.

Danny tilted his head, confused. "It's food for the movie night".

"Movie?", Dick parroted.

Danny sulked in annoyance, "Don't tell me you forgot. We always have movie night after every big fight".

"Huh", Dick whisperered, "I see. But I don't think last night was considered Big".

Danny pouted and huffed. "Well, I hereby declare that this night is a movie night. So mote it be."

Dick laughed.

"Does your humble servant get the honor of picking the movie?", he continued as he smiled indulgently at Danny.

Danny grinned widely and cheerfully answered, "Nope, last time it was Cassie's turn, now it's mine. I'm sure that you'll all like the movie I picked. I found it in one of Dad's shelves".

"I'm sure of it too kiddo. Now, how about you go first while I checked the kitchen for more snacks", said Dick.

Danny nodded and continued his walk to the living room, "Ok".

Once Danny is out of sight, Dick pulled out his phone and thought, "Well, I think this can be considered a family emergency. We don't want Danny to be disappointed".

Day 10

Tim was roused from his research by the sound of a knock on his door.

He stood up and opened it, surprised to see Danny.

"Sorry for disturbing you Tim", Danny started, "but did you see my telescope?"

Tim tried to remember if there was a telescope in the manor. There might be, with how old the Wayne manor is, but he is not sure if one of them is Danny's.

"Sorry Danny, but I don't know"

"Oh, I see. Well, maybe Alfred will know. I'll ask him". Danny turned to the right and started to walk to, assumingly, the garden.

"Sure", Tim replied, "but I think I forgot when you bought your telescope. Can you remind me?"

Danny turned his head to look at him worryingly, "It was dad on my first birthday here at home. Are you ok Tim? Did you sleep at all?"

"Sleep is for the weak. Anyways, good luck on your search", Tim waved to Danny.

"Thanks", said Danny as he walked away.

Tim closed the door and called Bruce.

"Tim, what is it?", answered Bruce on the other end.

"Telescope, buy it quick", Tim replied then ended the call.

Bruce, on his WE office, raised his eyebrow while looking at his phone.

Day 16

Jason had just entered the front door when he saw something green on the corner of his eyes. He turned his head quickly and saw Danny suddenly collapsing near the stairs.

"DANNY", he shouted, alarming everyone nearby. Jason run to Danny and kneeled to touch him.

"Did it hurt?", Jason asked.

"Danny mumbled something against the rug.

"What?"

"I SAID", Danny exhaled as he raised his head from the floor, "No, I dug my way up from hell".

Someone snorted behind Jason's back. It was Dick.

"Well, if you can answer my half-assed pick up line then you sure as hell can stand and clean yourself up".

"JAaaasoooon", Danny whined, "I cant stand up. Please be my knight and shining armor".

Jason fell silent as he remembered Danny's files. "Fine", sighed Jason, "but this time only". He picked up Danny bridal style.

Danny stared and grinned at Jason.

"What?", Jason gritted.

"You always say that. Last time and the time before", Danny laugh.

Jason blinked in shock at Danny for a second. Before he said, "I mean it this time squirt".

"Sure sure. I'll keep what you said in mind", Danny leaned his head on Jason's shoulders as they both (and Dick following them from behind) go to the infirmary.

Day 20

It was deep into the night when Bruce suddenly opened his eyes. He stared above him, wondering what caused him to wake up.

A loud thunderclap rings out as a lightning flash illuminated the whole room.

A knock on the door and the door opened, "Dad?".

Bruce sits on the bed. There, Bruce saw his youngest fidgeting below the doorway.

"Danny", Bruce called out as he opened his blankets. He beckoned to the space beside him.

Danny smiled happily and trotted to the bed. Burrying himself under the covers, closing his eyes, and snuggling beside his dad.

"Good night dad"

Bruce feels his heart warm as he looked down at Danny. "Good night chum", he whispered as he runs his hand down Danny's head.

---

Hope you enjoyed this.

So I've seen a couple of Demon twin prompts that have Danny and Damien knowing and keeping in touch with each other over the years with the Batfam none the wiser (The funniest being that Damien had Danny go and replace him for a week then the two played it off like it had been happening since Damien was brought to the manor. Another good one had Danny quickly dropping off Ellie with Damien leaving him to introduce Bruce to his granddaughter). How would this play out for you? Would Danny have run with Damien faking killing him, would he have just disappeared from the compound (?) One day?

Their mother had given birth to identical twins. Damien was born three whole minutes before Danny, which shouldn't have mattered much but to the Ra's it meant the world of difference.

Ra's did not want to raise more than one hire. He did not believe in spares or succession struggles. He gave Talia the ultimatum,- pick one twin to raise in their ways and give the other up to a civilian family or lose them both and her status.

Talia will never claim to be an angel. She knew that her heart was cold and wrenched as needed to cleanse the world. She was far too selfish to even consider becoming a civilian away from the league.

It wasn't a bad life, in the end, to become a regular civilian but it was not for her. Ra's had many children who were never deemed worthy of being part of his greater plans. He never mistreated them, but ultimately he ignored them and they grew up not knowing the blood that ran through their veins.

Talia herself knew of six siblings- all different ages and races- that she had seen from a distance. Her father would take her sometimes to see them, to be reminded that unlike them, she was destined for greatness.

They were nicknamed as the Lost by one of Father's past heirs. He had died fifty years before Talia's time but he was known for his surprisingly humorous outlook on life. How Ra could stand it, she will never know.

Sometimes Talia pitted her Lost siblings. They would be outlived by their father- as all of his children thus far have been- but they would never know the waste their lives had become. They would never know the glory of battle, the rush of leading an army, or the satisfaction of successful missions.

They lived in a rose-colored world inside a small fish bowl. Her Lost siblings would never know the vast wonder of the world.

Sometimes Talia envied her Lost siblings. Even though they had no real impact on the world, no real importance, they lived peaceful lives. They grew, made friends, and fell in love without fear of being betrayed. A foolish belief but one that seemed almost blissful.

How light would their shoulders be to not have to carry the weight that Talia has known all her life? Weight to be the best, to be the killer her father required, to allow her son to head to a possible death day after day.

None of them had to worry about their children never returning from a mission like she did. That's why she trained Damian so harshly, why she pushed and pushed until he reached perfection. If she didn't, then Damian would be bested in the field and his death would shatter what little humanity she still held.

She had taken Danny- her sweet youngest boy- to America to entrust him to her Beloved. It was only as she arrived on American soil did she realized that Bruce would not be satisfied with only one twin.

He would do everything in his power to get them both. Despite the years he trained with them, after learning their ways and their mission, Bruce did not approve of the League.

He was powerful enough to succeed in taking Damian as well if she gave him the chance.

Talia chooses to not do so. She instead stopped at the closest city that was miles and miles away from Bruce Wayne. She found Amity Park, a small sleepy town that would never gather much attention let alone Bruce's, and located a couple struggling for a second child.

After her men screened them and after making sure that they were harmless despite their eccentric research into ghosts, she gave the Fentons her Danny in adoption.

When she signed the adoption forms, Danny offically became a Lost sibling. She flew home, and held Damian just a tad bit tighter and longer, allowing only a few tears to fall before shutting away her heart.

She visited him through the years, but never within sight. Danny was unaware of her presence, as he stumbled his way with his life. He was unpopular with his peers, uncoordinated in basically everything, and the idea of him harming anything was laughable.

He had too much of his Father's heart but none of his will.

Talia made the right choose in getting him out. He would not have survived long within her lifestyle.

When her sons turned six, Talia had chosen to take Damian to see his Lost brother. She had two motives for doing so. The first was to show Damian what became of those deemed unworthy. To let him see that he had been given the honor of being the twin to inherit all that the Al Ghuls could offer.

The second was so that Damian could see his brother still lived, even as worthless and meaningless as he did so, he was still alive. He would know nothing of their world but he would still be able to walk through a different one.

She hoped but never voiced that he would find comfort in this and maybe even affection for her foolish Lost brother.

_________________________________________________________

What she was not aware of, was that Damian Al Ghul was just as selfish as she was. Once he saw what he deemed as his there was little in this world that would stop him from owning it.

He believed he was entitled to having a connection with his blood brother so underneath Talia's and the League of Assassins' noses, Damian did just that. He officially introduced himself to Danny when he was eight and told him the truth about their heritage.

Danny welcomed him with open arms. Despite being polar opposites in personality the identical twins were the best of friends. Damian always looked forward to seeing his brother for a short visit whenever the opportunity arose.

Danny was always pleased to host him for a weekend and the Fentons were more than happy to have him over. They may not have been able to adopt Damian but he was just as much their son as Danny was.

Damian just wishes he could return the gesture but if he ever had the Fentons over at Nanda Parbat they would all be dead within the first thirty minutes.

It was best to go to Danny.

Then Damian went to live with Father. It was a rough adjustment and he is not proud of his less-than-optimal reaction to Father's adoptive siblings seeing as the Fentons had proved blood is not required to love a child. It took months of getting used to living there before he was comfortable enough to go visit Danny again.

They spoke every night on the phone, however, since he no longer had to worry about traitorous warriors reporting his contact with a Lost sibling. He told Danny everything about the Waynes, just as Danny told him everything about being Phantom.

They just forgot to tell any of the Waynes about him.

Damian offered to have him over now that he knew Father would never harm his brother, and that the other Wayne children wouldn't kill him either. Danny, ever the most mischievous of the two, had a better idea.

"We could prank the family instead." Danny chirps floating above his bed, headphones in his ear as tries to play videogames upside down. He grins at the screen where Damian stares back at him.

Facetiming Danny can be a bit difficult when his brother has a hard time sitting still.

Damian wasn't strong enough to say no to him.

____________________________________________________________

"Master Bruce" Alfred didn't shout exactly but it was a near darn thing that had everyone in the cave tensing up. They all turned to an older man who was nervously gesturing to a screen. "We seem to have a guest"

They gather around the older man, watching as a teenage boy wearing baggy oversized sleepwear rampages through the kitchen in an ill-fated attempt to make...a sandwitch?

"How did he get in?" Bruce demands at once watching the boy pour himself a large cup of milk. His face was turned away so they couldn't see him clearly but-

"What are you all babbling about? That's not a guest." Damian scoffs after pushing his way to the front of the computers. He waves a hand at the stranger and it is conveniently at that exact moment that he turns around gulping down his milk.

It's an exact replica of his youngest. What in the world?

"Demon Brat" Jason starts slowly, hand reaching for his gun. Bruce would be angry by that, except he's not exactly sure that his son is standing with them now "Who is that?

"Obviously it's Daniel."

"Who?" Dick asks

Here Damian actually pauses looking around at everyone in as close to alarm as Bruce has ever seen him. "Daniel. My brother. Do you all not remember him?"

"Master Damian, this is the first time I have heard of your brother," Alfred stressed, the tone just a tad bit off from being upset. Damian's eyes widen behind his mask suddenly looking rather small.

He stares at the butler like he has never seen him properly nodding his head to the Batcomputer. "Check for yourself."

"I'll do it." Tim offers strolling over. With Babs on vacation with her father, he is the best with computers. He will know if something has been altered. A few clicks on the keyboard was the only sound within the cave as everyone stood around in unease.

A quick hiss between his teeth has Tim announcing. "Demon Brat isn't lying."

There on the multiple screens is proof that for the past four years- since Damian came to live with them- there was Danny. The brother with a medical condition that made being a Bat impossible.

Tim even had a personal folder- one he made but couldn't remember making based on his wonderous expression- titled "Angle Brat". Apparently, he and Danny got on like a house on fire. At least according to the files.

"Are you all quite sure you have no recollection of Daniel?" Damian questioned. His stance is protective, tense in a way Bruce has come to know as his son being nervous.

None of this makes sense. The last time Damian was this nervous was the last large Justice Leauge mission when all hands were on deck to fix the timeline-

Oh No.

"Damian, on the last rank 10 mission of the league you were the only one on the Watchtower when Flash shifted us back. Even Alfred was commanding a tank that day." He states waiting until his son nods in agreement. Around him, everyone was equally tense likely realizing the same thing.

"I was not alone Father. Daniel was with me. I couldn't possibly control all those stations alone."

Of course.

"Damian, I'm afraid the last mission erased Daniel from our timeline. I do not remember him."

His son's eyes practically bug out of his head. He swings around in small circles looking towards the rest of the family. His jaw clenched at their blank expressions.

None of them remembered Daniel either.

"We must inform Daniel at once-"

"No!" Dick shouts, cutting him off. There was a slump in his shoulders as he spoke much less sharply now. "If we do that, there is a chance that Time will try to force his existence out. It could.... erase Daniel completely."

"So what? We just pretend to know the kid? Lie to him?" Steph scoffs,

"Yeah as much as it sucks. I've worked with Bart long enough to know that there is a real danger in telling Daniel the truth." Tim sighs running his hands over his face.

"That's fucking great." Jason sneers, kicking a chair. Duke's hands are curled into tight fists, while Cass is looking at Damian with a sad frown.

Damian sneers at them, fleeing into the showers. Cass is one step behind him. Likely for the best, his eldest daughter has always been the best one to confine into. If anyone can get Damian talking about his feelings without being too pushy, it's her.

Alfred remains silent but his posture is stiff and straight. He is equally as displeased as his more explosive children. Not that Bruce couldn't blame him.

His heart has already shattered a dozen times over once Daniel's files have been brought up. He has forgotten his son. Has lost him in a way as close to death.

He flickers through them with the family. Everyone wants to remember as much as possible. There is so much. Daniel has a heart condition that has him attached to a heart pump, his consistently cold and is rarely strong enough to wander too far away from the manor.

In fact, he seems to collapse a lot like his legs just become intangible. Talia isn't aware he is still alive- Damian broke the rules to get him out of the league before his plan execution due to his condition.

Despite all of this, Danny had the biggest heart out of them. He seemed to be the kind of person with an easy smile, and happy pun waiting. He is so gentle that Tim's nickname "Angel Brat" is not just a mirror of Damian's

And Bruce forgot him.

To make matters worse the cave's elevator dings on, and down it comes Daniel himself. He looks exhausted, likely not used to being up so late but he smiles at them all warmly anyway

"Hey guys! Welcome home!" He greets. He rushes forward, hugging everyone with ease that not even Dick has been able to do. His movements are done so naturally that this must be how he greets them every night.

Everyone lets him and he doesn't seem surprised by the fact they return the hugs.

Bruce feels like vomiting as his youngest- Damian is older- smiles up at him. "Welcome home Dad! Love you."

"I..." His words catch in his throat. Daniel tilts his head confused but Bruce pushes through wrapping his arms around him just as tightly. "I love you too son."

"Tell the others you love them too" Daniel whispers in his ear. "Don't forget that they need to be shown through words and gestures too Dad!"

Bruce stiffens, unsure if he should but he doesn't have enough information to deny Daniel anything. If he suspects something is wrong he may zap himself out of existence. He can't let that happen.

He pulls back from Daniel after a moment, and then without giving the others warning, he reaches for the child closest to him. Jason yelps as he is dragged into Bruce's warm embrace. "I love you, Jason."

"Ugh what?" Jason sounds confused from above him- when did his little boy get so tall?- but he wraps his arms around him too, giving the beaming Daniel a quick glance before he mutters. "Love you too old man."

Bruce turns to Dick who is practically bouncing on his heels, arms held out. He steps into them easily, grunting as Dick squeezes him with all his might. "I love you, Dick"

"I love you too!"

Tim is staring with wide longing eyes over Dick's shoulder and Bruce knows he will have to hug him next. Behind him, Daniel has moved to embrace both Jason and Steph, which triggered a group-wide personal hug.

Even Alfred is there affording hugs and I love yous.

It's.....nice.

_____________________________________________________________

None of the Bats are good enough to read the body launage as Cass is. She saw the mischievous glee her new brother was hiding as he went around hugging everyone.

Damian taps her wrist. "Will you keep quiet of Daniel's harmless jest?"

She smiles. "Funny. They think they can't say no to him. "

"Oh, Dad! Now that you're back can I paint your nails?" Daniel asks loudly. "I have the best black nail polish!"

"....I suppose that is fine."

Damian cracks a smile. "My brother is a menace."

[woods2006gal]

Chapter 04 - I'm Not A Girl, Not Yet A Woman

Eight year old Bruce Wayne sits on the swing set. It was a cold and rainy day in Gotham. The weather matched his mood perfectly. He had retreated outside to escape the sad and pitying looks from the adults within Wayne Manor. He looks up upon hearing the soft footsteps. Zoey York climbs onto the empty swing beside him. He had heard about Zoey not talking since the car accident that killed her parents. A silence settles over them.

“Do…do you get to stay here,” Zoey softly questions. Her voice was raspy.

Bruce stares at her. “I thought you couldn’t talk any more.”

Zoey lets out an annoyed breath. “I can talk. I just choose not to.”

“Why?”

Zoey shrugs. “So people leave me alone.”

“Everyone thinks you’re a weirdo,” Bruce tells her. Zoey sighs and jumps down from the swing. She walks away, leaving Bruce alone on the swing set.

The holidays had been relatively normal for the Kent household. Zoey sighs as she walks down the Kent driveway. She had zero desire to do the project that had been assigned in her business class that morning. The project was the research a well known corporation. Companies were randomly assigned. Zoey had been annoyed to be assigned Wayne Enterprises. The last thing she wanted to do was spend anytime researching Wayne Enterprises.

“Sweetheart, is everything okay,” Martha questions when Zoey walks into the house.

“Zoey’s upset that she didn’t get CRC to research in business class,” Clark answers.

Zoey shoots him an annoyed look. “I’m not upset that I didn’t get CRC. I just don’t like the company I got and would rather have a different one. But Mr. Wilson wouldn’t let me switch.”

“Zoey, I’m sure you’ll do a fine job with the company you were assigned,” Martha comforts. She holds up a thick black envelope. “This arrived for you today.”

Zoey takes the envelope. Her name and the address were written in a silver cursive script. She turns over the envelope and sighs seeing the return address was somewhere in Gotham. She had a good idea what this particular envelope contained. Reluctantly, Zoey opens the envelope and her guess is confirmed.

Zoey Stella Carmichael York

is cordially invited to the 50th Annual Wayne Foundation Gala

February 16, 2002

Wayne Manor

Gotham, New Jersey

Please respond no later than January 29, 2002

Zoey turns over the invitation and finds an unfamiliar scrawl in pencil. I’d like for you to come - B

Clark grins. “You should go, Zoey. Maybe you can meet Bruce Wayne and interview him for your paper.”

Zoey shoots Clark an annoyed look. “I highly doubt Bruce would help me.” She bites her lip before turning to Martha. “Can I go?”

Martha sighs. The last thing she wanted to do was disappoint her goddaughter. “Zoey, we can’t afford for you to go to Gotham for a weekend.”

Zoey shifts. “What…what if I talked with Uncle Max and he took care of everything?”

“Jonathan and I would have to talk about it, but I don’t see why not,” Martha answers. Zoey brightly smiles and runs up the stairs.

“Do think Dad is going to agree,” Clark questions.

“I hope so,” Martha tells her son.

~*~

Zoey wrinkles her nose as she looks in the mirror. The tea length, strapless black dress wasn’t exactly what she had in mind. “Are you sure that I can’t wear the lace one,” she questions, motioning to dress she had picked out.

“This is one is boring,” Max points out, coming to stand behind her. Max Carmichael was a tall and slender man, with short sandy brown hair. He places his hands on Zoey’s shoulders. “It’s perfect for the Gala. Don’t worry, we’ll get the other one too. So, are you going to tell me why Bruce invited you? Last time I checked neither of you liked each other.”

Zoey shrugs. “No idea.”

Zoey looks around to make sure no one was paying any attention to the catering truck. Max always had an open bar at the annual Carmichael Fourth of July party. She didn’t really enjoy the party. She hadn’t since her parents died. Too many people kept comparing her to her parents or saying how proud they would be of her. She hated it. Zoey takes another glance around her before grabbing a bottle of Jim Beam out of the cardboard box. She quickly makes her way into the woods.

She knew the path to the original Carmichael family home like that back of her hand. It was an old cabin that had been built not long after her great-great-great grandfather, Elijah Carmichael, had started to garner some success with the first Rosewood hotel in Star City. Zoey learned about the cabin from her mother. Shannon had been the one to show Zoey where it was.

Zoey twists open the bottle and takes a swig of the amber liquid. The whiskey stung as it made its way down. She coughs. She raises the bottle of take another swig. A twig snaps. Zoey turns to find Bruce Wayne. She hadn’t been aware that he had been following her.

Zoey couldn’t stand Bruce. Every year Max invited Bruce to the party. And every year, Bruce would decline the innovation. Until this year for some reason. Max had been thrilled. Zoey had been dismayed. Max had purposely sat Zoey and Bruce next to each other. She didn’t know why but Max had made it his mission to play matchmaker between Zoey and Bruce.

“Leave me alone,” Zoey tells him.

Bruce ignores her, moving closer. The only reason he was at the party was to make Alfred stop nagging him. ‘It is up to you to keep the relationship between the Waynes and Carmichaels alive. The relationship goes back one hundred and fifty years, Master Wayne,’ the butler would constantly remind him. Bruce, on the other hand, didn’t care. He thought Max was too pushy at times. And Zoey…well, he still thought she was the over achieving weirdo who refused to speak to anyone for two years. Well, except for the one time at his parents’ funeral.

“Look who’s actually talking now,” Bruce says, grabbing the bottle out of her hand. “And drinking.”

Zoey glares. She reaches for the bottle, but he holds it out of her reach. “Give it back.” He takes a swig before handing her the bottle. She grabs it and continues towards the cabin. Bruce follows her. He was curious to know where she was going.

Zoey picks up her pace. She didn’t want him to know where she was going. Her foot catches on a tree branch. She starts to fall forward. Bruce quickly catches up to her. He grabs her arm and yanks her against his chest. She turns to face him, ready to tell him off. He doesn’t miss the fact that her breasts are pressed against him. The short sundress she was wearing hugged in the right ways. She definitely wasn’t built like the girls he was used to.

Thunder erupts. Zoey moves back from him. She didn’t want to let him know that she had actually enjoyed being pressed against him. That she had noticed how firm yet soft he felt. Rain pours down on them. Zoey grabs his hand. “Come on,” she yells, then takes off in the direction of the cabin.

Bruce stands there for a moment before following her. By the time they reach the cabin, they’re both soaked. Zoey opens the door and they step in. He looks around the cabin. While it had a rustic feel, the cabin was modern in furniture. A plaid couch was against one wall. Across from it was the fireplace. Zoey sets the bottle of Jim Beam on a coffee table before making her way to the fireplace.

“How long do you think it’ll take before someone notices we’re gone,” Bruce questions, sitting down on the couch.

“It’ll take Uncle Max until tomorrow afternoon,” Zoey answers. She grabs the matches off the fireplace mantle and kneels. Bruce watches as she strikes a match and carefully lights the fireplace. She had clearly intended to come out here alone. There was a small cooler in the corner along with a backpack. “How long do you think it’ll take Alfred?”

“Tomorrow morning,” Bruce tells her. “That’s if I don’t show up for breakfast.” Zoey sits down on the couch and takes a swig of the bourbon. She holds out the bottle to him. He grabs it and takes a swig. “Alfred is having dinner with an old friend.”

Zoey shifts. “Well, uh, I guess we are hiding out here until the rain lets up.”

A silence settles over them, each wonder how they were gonna pass time.

Zoey looks out the window as the SUV drives through Gotham. It was a far cry from Smallville. And it wasn’t anything like Star City. Gotham was full of gleaming art deco buildings and glass skyscrapers. The tallest building in the city was the Wayne Enterprises building. It stood in the center of the financial district. The only symbol on the building was a giant ‘W’ at the top. It was a reminder to the citizens of Gotham of which family had built the city. Through to others it was seen as a reminder that the upper echelons of Gotham society had destroyed the city. One didn’t have to go far from the gleaming financial district to see the reality for many of Gotham’s citizens. Crime, homelessness, drugs. 

“The Wayne Foundation has dedicated itself to restoring the city of Gotham to its once famous glory,” Max says, reading the invitation of the annual Wayne Foundation gala. They were dressed in formal attire. Max in a tailor suit with his sandy brown hair slicked back. Zoey wore the strapless, black tea dress she and Max had picked out. Her hair was pulled into a slick ponytail, a light layer of makeup accented her natural features, and a simple diamond necklace.

Zoey had never been to a gala before. “Does that mean they’re going to start going after the people who actually caused the problems? Such as corporations, like Wayne Enterprises, not paying enough in taxes.”

Max shoots her an unamused look. “I see someone has been watching the opinion news shows today. And don’t let anyone hear you say anything like that.”

"Why do you want me and Bruce to be together so badly?”

“Because the Waynes and Carmichaels go back hundred and fifty years. We can’t let it fall apart now.”

Zoey leans back on the couch, laughing. The bottle of Jim Beam was nearly empty. They could still hear the rain beating against the roof of the cabin. Bruce sits down next to her, annoyed that she had him perform the chicken dance. “Your turn,” he says. “Truth or dare?”

The two teens had started to play the game in order to pass the time. “Dare,” Zoey answers.

Bruce smirks. “I dare you to kiss me.” He knew that there was no way she would do it. She was too shy.

Zoey shifts on the couch to face him. She wanted to wipe that smirk off his face. She leans forward and presses her lips against his. She didn’t care that it was her first kiss. She just wanted to prove that she didn’t back down from any challenge. She starts to pull back, ready to taunt him.

Bruce places a hand on the back of her head. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t want the kiss to end. He actually enjoyed her company, though that was something he wouldn’t never admit to anyone. Keeping his lips pressed against hers, he gently pushes her back onto the couch. Zoey shifts, trying to get comfortable. Her knee brushes his hip causing her dress to ride up, exposing the pale skin of her thigh. 

Bruce pulls back and looks down at her. “Is this okay,” he questions.

“Yes,” Zoey breathlessly answers. Her heart was racing. He leans down, pressing his lips against hers once more. His hand runs over her thigh, pushing the bottom of her dress up further. She rest her hands on his biceps. His hand brushes over the white lace panties she was wearing. Her breath hitches. 

Bruce trails his lips across her cheek. His hand continues brushing against her. “Zoey—”

“Don’t stop,” Zoey interrupts. She knew exactly where this was headed. She didn’t know if was the bourbon or something else, but she wanted to experience what she had read in the various romance novels she enjoyed. She wanted to feel desired.

Bruce suddenly sits up. Part of him wanted to continue. He was ready. She was obviously ready and willing. Yet, there was a part of him that didn’t feel right about it. “We can’t do this,” he mutters, standing up. He adjusts his pants, hoping to relieve some of the tension he was feeling.

Zoey blinks. She sits up, shoving her dress back down. “Oh.” She looks around the cabin; trying to find something to distract her from the rejection she was feeling.

“Don’t get me wrong. I want to. It just…it doesn’t feel right.”

Zoey looks at him. She glances at the empty Jim Beam bottle. She stands up and walks over to him. She wraps her arms around his neck. “Are you trying to be a knight in shining armor,” she amusedly asks. 

Bruce pulls her close; hands settling on her waist. “Like I said, it just doesn’t feel right. At least right now.”

Zoey looks up at him. “Right now? Are you saying you don’t find me weird anymore?”

“Maybe.”

Zoey sighs. The evening so far had been a wash. She hadn’t seen Bruce since she and Max had arrived at the Wayne Foundation Gala which was taking place at the Gotham Museum of Arts. She was confused. Bruce had been the one who invited her yet he wasn’t at the gala. She sits down on bench and looks up at the painting of a garden filled with roses and lillies. She’s so lost in her thoughts that she doesn’t notice someone sit down next to her. A hand lightly brushes hers and she jumps.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Bruce apologizes. 

It takes Zoey a moment to realize that he’s wearing jeans and a sweater. He clearly no intention going to the gala. “Why exactly did you invite me?”

“I wanted to see you.”

Zoey lightly smiles. “You could’ve just asked.”

Bruce shrugs. His thumb brushes the back of her hand. “This was less suspicious.” 

“Well, you did make Uncle Max very happy. I haven’t seen him this happy in years.”

“And what about you?”

“Happy. Confused. Annoyed.”

Bruce raises an eyebrow. “Annoyed?”

“I’ve had to spend the past couple of hours listening to people tell how far I’ve come and that parents would be extremely proud of me. It gets very old very fast,” Zoey tells him, then stands up. She starts to walk away from him, but he grabs her wrist. 

“I know,” Bruce tells her. He closes the gap between them. She could feel his breath on her face. She presses her lips against his. The kiss is slow and tentative. He pulls back. “Do you want to get out here?”

“I would love to get out of here,” Zoey whispers.

~*~

Zoey yawns and stretches her arms out. The sun was shining in through the window. The manicure lawns of Wayne Manor were nothing like the fields of the Kent farm. It’s at that moment that Zoey feels the weight on her waist; the heat pressed against her back. After sneaking out of the gala, the two teens had been driven back to Wayne Manor by Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce's guardian and trusted butler. They had spent the night eating pizza and catching up on what had occurred in their lives since last summer. She made the decision not to mention what happened at homecoming.

Zoey rolls over and finds Bruce staring at her. He had given her an old t-shirt that stopped just above her knees. He had chosen to sleep in a pair of boxers. She remembered him climbing into the bed sometime during the night. “Were you watching me sleep,” she amusedly asks voice husky with sleep.

Bruce remains silent. He had spent months trying to figure out what caused him to develop a sudden attraction to Zoey. He had dated a couple of girls at his school, hoping that it would help him figure things out. It didn’t. He leans over and softly kisses her. She pulls him close. Her hands on his bare skin felt electrifying. The kiss deepens. His hands run over her legs. She rolls onto her back, pulling him with her. Bruce pulls back. He looks down at her. “We need to stop,” he softly says; it was the last thing he wanted to do.

Zoey bites her lip. “What if I don’t want to,” she whispers.

“Are you sure?”

Zoey leans up and pulls him another kiss. Hands run over each other, exploring. Clothes wind up on the floor. She lets out a gasp when he swiftly enters her. She blinks back the tears. She heard that it would hurt the first time. His movements are fast and quick. He lets out a groan and falls onto her. Bruce lays there for a moment, then pulls out and lays on the bed next to her. A silence falls over them. Each of them lost in their own thoughts.

Zoey clears her throat and sits up. She ignores the stinging pain shooting through her. “I, um, I need to get back to the hotel before Uncle Max sends out a search party.”

“I’ll get cleaned up,” Bruce tells her. Zoey grabs his boxers off the floor and silently hands them to him.

~*~ Oliver lets out a groan. He had no idea who would even think about calling him so early on a Sunday morning. He glances over his shoulder and finds Tess still asleep. He sits up and runs a hand over his face before grabbing the cell phone. “Yeah,” he tiredly greets.

“I didn’t mean to wake you, Ollie,” Zoey says. “I just…I didn’t know who else to call.”

Oliver straightens up. “Zo, is everything okay? Are you okay?”

“I don’t know where Uncle Max is. His room is empty. But all his stuff is still here. I-I-I don’t know where he is. I don’t know how I’m supposed to get home, Ollie. I have this big test coming up in my environmental science class.”

He frowns. “Max told me that you both were invited to Gotham for the Wayne Gala.”

“Yes. And he’s not here. He’s missing. Oh my god, what if he was kidnapped or murdered or-or-or worse.”

“Zo, take a deep breath,” Oliver tells her, standing up. He pays no attention to the stirring redhead in the bed. “I’ll take my jet and come pick you up. Everything will be okay.”

“No, it won’t,” Zoey sobs. “Uncle Max might be dead or something. And I screwed up. Big time.”

“Tell me what happened, and we’ll fix it. Everything will be okay.”

“I-I-I had sex with Bruce. We-we-we didn’t use—”

“Zoey, when did this happen,” Oliver interrupts.

“This morning,” Zoey softly answers.

“I’ll take care of this, Zo. Don’t worry about it. Call whoever you need to and tell them the plane broke. That you’ll be home tomorrow. Okay.”

“Okay,” Zoey softly says. Oliver hangs up the phone and grabs his jeans off the floor.

~*~

It’s almost midnight when a knock comes on the hotel suite door. Zoey jumps up off the couch and runs over to her. Her heart had been racing all day. She hadn’t managed to get ahold of Max all day. The only bright side of the day had been that Jonathan and Martha believed her when she told them the plane was broken. She looks through the peephole and lets out a relieved breath upon seeing Oliver.

Zoey yanks open the door and launches herself at him. Oliver’s taken back but quickly rights himself. “It’s okay, Zo,” he tells her. He rubs a hand down her back. “Everything will be fine.” He guides her into the suite and softly closes the door behind them. Oliver walks over to the mini fridge and grabs a bottle of water. He pulls out a small vanilla envelope as he walks back over to her. He holds it and the bottle of water out to her. “Take this. It’s more effective the earlier you take it.”

“What is it,” Zoey asks, taking it from him. She opens it to find a white pill in it.

“Morning after pill,” Oliver says. “You’re going to take it. Then in a month, I’m going to visit you in Smallville, and we’re going to make sure it worked.”

Zoey puts the pill in her mouth and takes a huge gulp of water. “What happens if it doesn’t work,” she quietly questions.

“We’ll cross that bridge if we have to,” Oliver replies. He crosses his arms over his chest. “Did Bruce force—”

“No,” Zoey interrupts. She shakes her head. “No. No. Bruce didn’t force me or anything. I wanted to. I really wanted to. It’s just…it was really…disappointing.”

Oliver snorts. He pushes her towards the bedroom. “It was your first time. Of course, it was disappointing.”

Zoey spins around in his grasp. “I bet your first time wasn’t disappointing.”

“I barely remember my first time, Zo. And that means it wasn’t that good.” He brushes her hair over her shoulder. “You’re fifteen. You have plenty of time to have sex that’s not disappointing.”

The door to the suite opens, and they turn to see Max enter, wearing a pair of oversized floral board shorts and an equally oversized t-shirt with Caesar’s logo on it. “Uncle Max, you’re not dead,” Zoey exclaims, running over to him. She tightly embraces him.

Max hugs her back, frowning. “Why would think that I’m dead?” It’s at that moment that he notices Oliver standing in the suite. “What are you doing here, Oliver?”

“I called him,” Zoey answers. “You weren’t here. And I thought you were kidnapped or murdered or worse—”

“What’s worse than being murdered,” Max interrupts.

“Where have you been, Max,” Oliver questions.

Max shifts. He runs a hand across the back of his neck. “I, uh, I woke up in a hotel in Atlantic City. Tied to a bed. Naked.”

Oliver raises an eyebrow. “That explains your clothes.”

“Are you okay,” Zoey asks, still worried.

Max shrugs. “I’m fine. Pride hurts. But I’m fine, Zoey.”

Zoey turns to Oliver. “We should call the police.”

“Zoey, I’m fine,” Max snaps. He rubs his face. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s been a long day. And I just want to sleep.”

Silence falls over them as Max walks into his room and closes the door. “Ollie,” Zoey softly begins. He looks at her and finds a concerned look on her face. “Can you…do you think you can talk to Uncle Max? Make sure that he’s okay?”

Oliver lightly smiles at her. “Of course,” he tells her. He guides her towards her room. “You need to get some sleep, Zo. We have an early flight in the morning to get you home.”

Zoey hugs him. “Thank you, Ollie.”

Oliver presses a soft kiss to the top of her head. “It’s no problem, Zo.”

I’m not a girl Not yet a woman All I need is time, a moment that is mine While I’m in between I’m not a girl

[ellienettie]

Timothy Drake-Wayne

There were a few things that Janet Drake taught Tim Drake as a child. It was her way of caring, in a way. She's taught him how to control and hold a company, how to manipulate people into doing your bidding, how to intimidate them into letting you do what you want to do. In a strange, slightly cold way, it was her way of showing she cared. It was her showing her expectations of him controlling the company and making it rise, continuing her legacy and letting Drake Industries rise. 

It was her way of saying she loved him enough to let him keep everything she's built for herself. Tim has had front row view to how her words can affect a person, how the way she holds herself puts a certain image and expectation into someone's view, and Janet rises above those expectations every time. Her intimidating stare was something that everyone remembers when her name comes to mind, the way she holds herself up. It was like an empress commanding her soldiers to bow to her feet, and it was something Timothy Drake has learned and mastered under her guidance and graceful hand.

Timothy Drake's childhood memories with his parents were more lessons than it was heartwarming memories, so could they really be called parents? Or were they more teachers than they were parental figures? None the less, he still loved them, still cried for them, mourned for them on their death beds. He still carries Janet's lessons with him as a way of keeping her legacy alive, to keep the way Tim knows she loved him alive. 

She's helped set an image for him, and Tim doesn't disappoint said image despite the change in his last name. He was a Drake first before he was a Wayne, and he'd rather be damned in hell eternal than to let the world forget that fact. Her lessons are what kept him alive, afloat, valid in all the circles he settles himself in. Some people can never forget that he was his mother's son more than he was his father's son, like Lex Luthor who faces full heat of Tim's version of Janet's glare, but under the name and persona of Timothy Wayne, people assume he's more like his father. Too many people do, in Tim's humble opinion.

Tim's seated on the glass table of his office right in front of a stupid cowardly man named *Bradley Ramirez* with his foot on his thigh. He pushes the heel of his left foot harder on to Brad's thigh and slightly revels in the way the man's breath hitches. 

"Have you had your fun carousing around with the company's budget, Brad?" Tim asks in a mimic of his mother's silken voice. She's used it before on her husband when he came home drunk without her permission. Tim finds it amusing that the man turned the same shade of pale as his father did. He raises a brow at the silent man in front of him. "Well?"

"S-sir Wayne--"

"Please, Mr. Ramirez. You know very well that my dad is Mr. Wayne. Call me Mr. Drake." His right foot swings idly in front of Brad Ramirez while his right hand clamped on to Brad's shoulder. "Mr.- Mr. Drake, sir. I just- i-it was extra budget, so I figured that I may as well-" He yelps as Tim squeezes his shoulder harder. Tim lets go of his shoulder to push it with his right food, and Brad's breath shudders.

"...Who gave you permission to?"

"p-pardon, sir?"

"Who gave you permission to use money you didn't make on yourself? I certainly didn't. Who did?" Tim places his hands on the table beside him and leans on his palms. "It couldn't have been Bruce too. I would know if he did!" Tim smiles at the man. It was exactly like how Robin the first would smile at the goons before tackling them. "It certainly wasn't Samantha from budgeting, she would insist on using excess funds on other projects! Tell me, Bradley, who told you to gather the audacity to misuse funds given to you? I'm so curious!"

His mother would be proud of him for how he's talking to his employee, after being immensely disappointed in him for allowing such a man to be responsible for something he couldn't handle. "According to the files on my desk, Sir Ramirez, You've managed to gather excess funds by cutting employee's pay? To do what? To cut costs that we can afford?"

"M-Mr. Drake, sir, you're stepping on my shoulder too hard-" Tim's eye twitches before he straightens his back and crosses his legs. He ignores the jolt that Bradley makes on the excess pressure on his thigh. "I'm sorry, it won't happen again. I'll use the budget wisely next time, I'm sorry sir Drake."

"Of course you won't, Bradley. You wanna know why?" Bradley visibly gulps in front of him. "B-because I'm demoted?" Tim smiles like a shark, and the glint in his eyes make Bradley wish that he was stuck in a shark cage instead. Tim chuckles a bit before sighing, still smiling.

"No, you're very funny, Mr. Ramirez. You're fired."

[i-cant-sing]

I feel like superbat kid would be scared of needles,since their a clone experiment. So the boys try to distract them whenever they need to get shots.

Dads feeling so guilty probably spoils the baby with toys and desserts.

Oh yeah definitely.

The Batfam and the Superfam are all well aware of your phobia of needles, but time for vaccination has come and they cant put it off any further. So, Bruce calls Clark over to the Wayne manor and they're all down in the batcave, discussing how to proceed. Finally, Jason is the one who brings you down to the cave, and he's distracting you by telling you a story about some weird crossover between a fairytale and Ninja turtles, but you're distracted so its working.

He hands you over to Clark, and you giggle when he kisses your cheeks and tells you how much he missed you. You're listening to him talk as he goes and sits on a chair, settling you on his lap. That's when you look around and see everybody is there, and you're oblivious to why they're staring at you with worry but you wave to them happily.

The trick was to move fast and keep you distracted. Alfred was the one with the needle, and Clark was going to hold you since he was the strongest, and the batboys were going to distract you.

Bruce begins talking to you, blocking your field of Alfred prepping the needle, but you sense something is wrong and try to look at Alfred. Dick and Tim immediately jump up and start dangling your toys in front of you, but their voices held uneasiness and no matter how much they tried to block Alfred, you had X-ray vision and thats when you saw the needle.

You began thrashing violently in Clarks arms, who tried to pacify you but you weren't listening to a damn thing. Bruce tried to hold your arms still but you were strong, and quickly yanked your hands away, knocking Damian's face in the process.

You began wailing when Alfred approached you, telling them to hold your arm still. Clark grabbed your arm with one hand and pinned it to your side, ears wincing as your sobbing got louder when Alfred rubbed your arm with an alcohol swab. No matter how much they tried to comfort you, you were inconsolable. But Bruce was noticing your breathing getting faster and your screams get louder, and when your eyes began to get red, he quickly pushed Alfred out of the way, just in time for laser to shoot out of your eyes. Clark quickly covered your eyes with his hand and yelled at them to hurry up.

Alfred wiped the sweat off his forehead and showed him the empty needle. "All done."

Clark quickly placed your head in his neck and rubbed your back, cooing into ear about how you're his brave girl and how proud he is of you, but you're still crying violently, hyperventilating. Bruce pulled you from Clark, and told you to follow his breathing, but you were like a scared animal, eyes wild and frantic. You ended up passing out in his arms and the whole family just looked at each other with disappointment.

The family then had to spend the rest of the month building up your trust again. It pained them to see how you'd flinch away from their touches or begin to shake when they placed you in their laps. You would even hide from Alfred, but they all were patient and after several cuddles and ice creams and a lot of other treats, you finally began to trust them again.

But you were still scared to go the batcave and you didn't like it when they would all be together in the same room with you.

[moonlit-imagines]

warnings:

a/n: just so everyone knows, zack snyder claims the joker-vandalized robin suit that bruce has in BvS is dick’s. idrk why he felt the need to say that but im going along w it for the sake of “canon”

not requested

“It’ll be just like before, y/n. What do you think?” Your father asked you the big question, playing the role of recruiter once more. You stared at him with the pokerface you’d learned from him as a child and tried to think of a response, which ended up being laughter.

“I think you’re getting desperate, dad.” You wiped your tears of “joy” from your eyes and shook your head at his disappointed look. “I’m not gonna be Dick’s replacement and you’re going to have to learn at one point or another that if you love someone, you don’t rope them into your dangerous business.” You explained to him with a lingering smile, baffled by his audacity.

“I thought you might miss it. Miss him. It would have been a way to honor him.” Bruce sighed, attempting to get you to see it his way, but you weren’t so gullible. You knew he was just lonely but would rather put on a bat suit than make real friends.

“I left that life for a reason, and Dick would have been proud of me for that.” You snapped at him, which just prompted him to give up and walk away, but you opted for another string of last words. “You’re never going to be at peace if you continue to let Bruce Wayne be the mask, dad. Think about it.”

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