#ghul oc

[laimabynight]

Audrey Cordelia Redmond (20). The young woman had always been a child of contradictions. As the daughter of the director of Rikers Island, she enjoys the privilege and refinement of New York City’s high society. Yet, that world alone is not enough for her. Her days are spent half-heartedly attending lectures at Barnard College, where she studies art history—more to pass the time than out of genuine passion. Audrey discovered early on that life extends beyond the gilded dinner parties and elegant balls of her social circle. Fascinated by contrast, she occasionally seeks adventure in the city’s shadows, where she encounters figures who would never grace the pristine halls of her world. The stories she hears about the inmates of Rikers—often shared by her father, a stern and dutiful man—spark her curiosity about life and the people on the other side of the law.

New York by Night - Red Carpet

Art by Hettikovacs

[yzur02]

Dick: *being pushed to the lab to test for a meta gene* come on guys, you know I'm a completely normal human

Steph: yeah, yeah, tell that to some other idiot

Tim: there's no way in hell you are a "normal human"

Duke: we have seen the truth

Cass: you can't fool us

Dick: this is ridicu-

Corrie: save it for the needle, dickface, you could have fooled us before you completely decimated the Legion of Doom and smashed your way trough the Watchtower's security before, and hear me out, you shattered Cyborg Superman's leg by shoulder checking him with a total weight of?

Jason, with the goofiest, biggest glasses he found over his helmet while holding the most obnoxiously big calculator on earth: his approximate weight is that of a wet kitten on a napkin

Corrie: that! Not to mention the shit with the Court of Howls talking about you as their "Grayson" you are a motherfucking prophesied warrior from some random ass cult!

Dick: B, you already did test on this, tell them!

Bruce: it's always good to be sure

Dick: Alfred!!

Alfred: worry not, master Grayson, everything is already prepared and ready to use

Dick: Babs?

Barbara, holding a needle: we are ready to go!!

Damian, helping with the testing: tt sit at once, Grayson, I intend for this to be done before my S&S session later today

Dick:... fine, why not? just the 38th test, not like I keep count or anything...

...

Cass: bullshit

Steph: that!!

Jason: you smell that?

Duke: yeah, it smells like bullcrap

Dick: told you

[batsis-reader]

Batsis: Hey Jason Jason: Yes? Batsis: Can a person breathe inside a washing machine while it’s on? Jason: Jason: Where’s Damian?

[invincibledc]

MORE JACKKKKKKKK

⋆˚࿔ 𝑯𝑬’𝑺 𝑴𝑰𝑵�� 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

────୨ৎ────

𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 (𝐎𝐂) 𝐗 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐁𝐑𝐎!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

── .✦ Synopsis: At a gala, that Jack had snuck into, he sees a girl trying to throw herself all over what’s his. And that’s his man.

── .✦ Genre: oneshot

── .✦ Info: this OC is an OC I’m written for my own amusement. He’s the son of Harley Quinn and joker. Full name, Jacklyn Oswald Quinn. I got bored. Reader is the twin brother of Damian, but Damian is the older twin of course. Im only a writer so you can imagine who he looks more like but all I can is he is handsome canonically in my head and anything. Boy’s crazy but handsome.

── .✦ Word count: 1,356

Classical music rang through the air, and you stood there not impressed by the usual gala setting your father has made. The same goes for your brother as he just left you to do your own thing as he does his own. Damian and you are the same but in different ways.

You can handle most of the interactions with the people, he can't. Due to the people who had pinched his cheeks and crowded him and you.

He took the most pinching as he pushed you behind him, older brother things of course. Despite all that, it seems that as years went on, and you got older, you saw that most of the adults brought their offspring here. The waiters gave off drinks and even some appetizers.

Okay so maybe the only thing you like about the gala is the food, what? You’re a growing boy. You walked through the talking people, ignoring the slight comments of you being “rude” for interrupting such a nice conversation between adults. But you knew they were just here to gloat about their richness and show up to at least get a little amount of clout of being here.

Either way, you flagged down a waiter, smiling wide as the waiter smiled. The waiter strutted over, “Yes Mr. Wayne?” you pointed to the shrimp, the shrimp was nicely air-fried, just perfect for you.

“Could I have that please?” the waiter nodded, moving their arm towards you for you to grab it. You grabbed it off the plate, your eyes lighting up at the sure crisp texture of the shrimp. And you were so gonna devour this, and maybe get more as the time passes on.

You took the shrimp in your mouth whilst the waiter went off to another person who had flagged them down. While you chewed on the delicious shrimp, you felt a finger tap your shoulder.

Turning your body around, there you see some random girl. She was attractive, sure. But her aura just set you off, you couldn't help but scrunch your nose at the fact of her strong perfume. It wasn't even a good strong but the kind of strong that makes your head spin.

“Hey handsome, what's your name?” she says with a flirty tone, her hand grazing your arm. You reeled your arm back and even took a step back.

Yeah, this may not go well.

—JACK’S POV—

He hummed, strolling through the gala he had certainly snuck into. He isn't stupid to not take off his green hair-sprayed hair, showing off his blonde locks. His blue eyes scanned the room of the gala. He heard, no, he knew you were gonna be here. So why not meet his adorable obsession, his beloved boyfriend?

So here he is, moving slickly through the bodies of people. He saw a tray of delicious small biscuits and snagged a few, grinning like a child, he plopped one into his mouth.

But it seems that it wasn't that good to eat anyway. Coughing at the dry biscuits that tasted like cardboard. He forgot how bland rich people's food can get. He grabbed water off a tray and gulped it down. After that, he dumped the other biscuits into the trash. Yeah never again was he eating any more rich people's food. He moves through the people again.

If there was one person, or at least two he didn't want to see. It would be Jason and Damian. Mostly Jason, Jason just hates him and he hates him back.

Through the crowded people, he couldn't help but have a mischievous grin when he took off a ladies’ diamond watch. It was so quick that the elegant woman didn't notice her 20-grand watch.

“Hehe, suckers,” he says under his breath. He stuffed the watch into his black suit. He continues to stride through the ballroom, and there he finally sees you, his eyes widening with excitement. But that seemed to falter as his eyes darkened, his normal blue eyes seemed to look dark ocean blue.

There he sees a girl touching up on you, you look uncomfortable, trying to move back subtly. But it seems she wasn't taking the hint that she isn't as beautiful as she seems.

—NO ONE POV—

Trying to move back, the girl finally had enough. “Why don't you just touch me? Am I not that beautiful for you?!” she exclaimed.

“Not just that, but disgustingly over touchy.” a raspy voice said, you turned around to meet the boy joker out of his alter-ego. His neat blond hair, his dark expression and his eyes glaring at the girl.

“Ja-jacklyn?” you said shocked to see him here. Before you could further ask how he could even be here, he pulls you to his body. Your back making a complete puzzle to his chest. His arms wrapped around your waist, his eyes trained on the girl who looked more shocked than you.

“What the..” she says, seeing his jack’s hands pressed neatly on your hips, his arms making an X due to how he was holding you around your waist with both arms.

“As you can see, he’s mine, sweetheart. Not something your prissy little hands can try and touch.” Jack had a smile on him, but it didn't dare reach his face. A dark look stayed on his face as he squeezed your body tighter to him.

“So back off,” he says lowly, sending chills to the girl who seemed a little scared at how the boy seemed. Whilst you had chills due to his warmth his breath hit your ear.

The girl scoffed, walking off, her heels clicking as she pushed a waiter out of the way. The girl gained weird looks, but that didn't matter as Jack let you go. Dragging you by your arm and pulling you to a quiet place from the ballroom.

“Jack! Slow down, you’re walking so fast.” Jack ignored your protests, he threw you into a room and closed the door from behind without looking.

Stumbling into the room, you glared at him as you turned to stare at him. However, that glare soon disappeared as you saw how Jack looked. His hair is now messy and his eyes hovered over you like a predator.

“Puddin`, as much as I hate rich people,” struts towards you, chuckling darkly, he reaches over and grabs you to him. Having his warm hand behind your neck as his breath fanned over your lips. “I hate the kind that think they can touch you as if they own you,” he says darkly, his already raspy voice making it seem more low.

You couldn't help but breathe slowly, your body warming up as Jack’s eyes scanned over your face. His dark eyes started to light up a bit, “damn you do look good in that suit.” Jack then kisses your lips gently.

His hands smoothly place themselves onto your hips, and you relax into the kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck, your bodies pressed together like an enigma. Jack licks the bottom of your lip, smirking as he feels you open your mouth a bit.

“Good boy,” he says before he fully picks you up effortlessly.

“HANDS OFF THE BOY!” yelled a booming voice. You yelped, moving from Jack as Jack himself groaned annoyed. Turning his head to see Jason with Dick by his side. And then there’s Damian with a fork.

“I may not have a knife, but a fork will do.”

“Well shucks,” Jack places you down, running his fingers through his hair before shrugging. “Guess fun’s over,” he smirks before throwing a king’s card down.

Smoke disgorges from the card, covering the room. The boys coughed whilst Jack grabbed your arm, “C'mon! Let's hit the road babe!” he exclaimed with a goofy expression.

After the smoke cleared up, Jason and Damian were after you whilst Dick was still coughing, leaving the room as Tim walked over to him.

“Yeah. I'm done.” Dick says as Tim gave him a glass of water.

“Good to know. I stopped months ago.”

And this was the most entertaining gala night of your life ever.

[nemoredraw]

AU Batman. —Jason Todd and Damian Wayne— When you want to take down capitalism, bureaucratic elites, inequality, the government, the patriarchy, and every oppressive system… but Batman gets in the way.

Jason and Damian against the oppressive system. 🫦💅❤️

Well then, guess we’ll just have to get rid of him. 🤭🦇🪦

Speaking of capitalism, a reminder that my commissions are open 😊 if you have any questions, contact me via DM. ❤️🚬💀 Mwah 💋

[damianwayne-bloodson]

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

[cer-rata]

@thepenguisalive7 Helped me get this dumb idea out of my head finally.

People need to stop enabling me.

B/W version + original comic under the cut

Original by Haus of Decline

[thecloudsaremyhome]

☆Yandere dick Grayson x neglected reader☆

Authors note: this is a little gift for @acid-ixx to brighten your day! I really tried to be as descriptive as possible so I hope you love it!

Tw: mentions of self harm, neglected, sucidal ideation, yandere dick, feral dick.

You'd like to think you were a good person in some sense, not the greatest not the worst, just good.

You never had this urge to prove yourself to anyone that your better than them, not did you feel like you had to do something bad to gain others attention.

You were just good. In the middle not on the good morning bad side just in the middle.

Maybe that's what made you so invisible to everyone else, you weren't outstanding not were you rough around the edges and brave. You were just you.

And that sometimes wasn't even enough for people, enough for you. Because you don't wish to be this way you just are.

You don't wish to hide in the shadow and be swallowed by the dense walls if your tiny room. It just happens, you don't do anything about it anyways.

you don't raise your voice if someone is telling at you, you don't make eye contact, you just sit their in silence until they are done berating you for stuff you couldn't control.

And it hurts it truly does, not having the confidence to actually speak your mind and let everyone walk over you. It sucks but it was how you were raised.

But you wished your mama didn't raise you like that, to b timid and shy to be kind. But you fear if you don't your disgracing her.

Disgracing her teachings and that scares you, because you already lost her the last thing you wanted to do is to disgrace her.

So you suck it up. You suck up every insult, every rough shove, every ignorant glance to your suffering, you take everything in an don't let it out. Because that how you were raised, to be good not to be better.

But you only know that you cry yourself to sleep in the pitch black darkness of your room, with only the moon light to illuminate your jbedroom, no one knows but you, not dick not Bruce, not Jason not your sisters or Duke, not Tim and sure as hell not damian.

Because at the end of the day you'll always be good but that's it.

You'll never be better, and it hard to accept that but you've learned to, learned to suck it in and forgive.

Because it's what you mother would have wanted, to be the better person, to be more mature, to not let you anger blur your view of the world.

But humans can only take so much before they snap, before the heart can't take it anymore an they have to resort to drastic measures to cope.

Because a person can only take so much before they break complete and because a lifeless shell of once was them.

Because the last straw was dick off all people, the eldest brother, Nightwing, Bruce's greatest success, the person everyone looks up to forgets with the rest of the family to come to you high school all state band concert.

and it's not like it's nothing new you've dealt with this for years now but this was your final straw the final nail in the coffin. None of them showed up not a single person not even Alfred and this hurts badly.

because once in your life you wanted to do something for you and not for them and they don't even have the decency to at least show up and congratulate you!

It's the worst feeling a child could experience, the neglect of a family that's supposed to love you that's supposed to cherish you but instead does the opposite, it makes your blood boil with rage and pure hurt, pure hurt at the situation, pure hurt at the neglect and mistreatment you faced. And no one even noticed at all not one person.

You were always the person their for other people for friends for strangers, even you tried to be their for your family! But not once has any of them been their for you! Not fucking once!

And this enrages you to no end, just… Why? Why put me through this hell… Why leave me like a broken proclein doll? Why….?

You know you'll never know the reason why this has happened to you and you know you won't get a valid reason but it still fucking hurts so bad it feels like a deep pain is clawing at your chest.

making you feel like your rib cage might burst open, it makes your heart speed up in panic as you pick at you already chapped lips.

You need to get somewhere safe before you have a full on panic attack. So you rush off the stage an behind the curtains to a near by bathroom, once you close and lock the door you slide down onto the tiles as your breathing becomes ragged and your heart is pounding a mile a minute.

It hurts all of it does every part of you being your mind, soul and body hurts.

You grip you hair tightly causeing you to pull out some strands in the process, as you continues topick your skin and rock yourself against the door, you can't stop the uneven breaths coming ou of you at this rate you might pass out, and no one will know or notice and that surges your panic even more as you feel tears rolling down your already do cheeks.

You can't help but cry from the pain of it all, from everything, you've tried to be the bigger person, to forgive and forget but you can't do that any more you just can't at this rate you'll en up killing yourself before anyone else can.

And that hurts you the most, that you so far broken from the neglect you resort to hurting yourself to cope.

It hurts but you can't stop it you just can't, no matter how many times you say you won't hurt yourself again you just wondering up doing it all over again, it's like a drug it relieves you but also hurts you and that scares you.

Because it's all a toxic cycle in the end that you could easily get out if you truly wanted to. But you just can't stop no matter how much it hurts you can't stop.

Maybe this is what leads to you eventually padding out in the tile floors, your body going limp as you finally succumb to a peaceful state, but even in your dreams you are never safe from the Haunting nightmares.

The next time you wake up your still rested on the tile floors, so no one came to check on you really? Wow you shouldn't really be surprised at this point, they never noticed anyways.

But your sure Alfred did so you should probably grab your stuff and head back to the manor. You always dread going back but you have no choice.

Still that lingering feeling of pure rage sits inside of you growing stronger and stronger and you can't ignore it.

Your done.

No more of this you can't take it anymore if they don't want to be apart of your life that's perfectly fine with you, you don't need them, it may have taken so long to accept but you learnt to.

With graduating only a few months away you should survive until then, kand then you'll be free, free from this hell whole.

Free to love for yourself because you never got to before. But that doesn't mean it will be easy to quit old habits but you'll learn eventually. You always do.

So with that you head back home to the manor you call hell, unaware of what is to come for the future and that you may not every have the freedom you now desire.

You hope your mama can forgive you for now not fully enacting upon her teachings but you need to live for yourself and that's what she would've wanted in the first place, because after all you were always hers to begin

Dick has many names he goes by Nightwing, the first robin, the infamous dick Grayson.

But he's always been the pillair of support for the family, the one previous robins looked up to and admired, the great dick Grayson who is Bruce's greatest. Every hero looks up to him he's a great example if what a hero should be.

But all in all he's always prioritized his love ones first, every birthday celebration, he's always their no matter what time or day it is.

Hes always been the ideal older brother, at least in his eyes, and he has a very deep connection with each of hus siblings a bond that no one can tarnish nor break.

And he makes sure to cherish each and every relationship he has with his siblings because hes already lost so much by being robin and dick grayson and now nightwing.

But he has to be honest with himself he hasnt ever had a real relationship with you. The second youngest sibling and the fourth child or are you the third child?

But since the day you stepped foot in this manor with your bright curious eyes examining the large manor dick was the one to greet you second but only hanging around for a few seconds before walking off without a care in the world not bothering to over analayze you or your situation.

Dick has many responsibilities and priorities since he is the eldest but still hes made time to bond with each of his siblings except for you, youve always been the shadow in the darkness he never noticed, the darkness that is slowly taking away you innocence and sanity.

But he never noticed, he never noticed you in general sure he would give a soft hey while passing you in the halls but thats it.

Nothing more he does remember when you would occasionally asl to spend time with him, which of course would be shut down with a falso promise of later.

Which of course he thought nothing of it and later forgot about the conversation. And thats his fault. He shoundlt have done that on the first place shouldve given you the time of day an actually tried to interact with you but no.

he was ignorant and now years later he deeply regrets it. He was supposed to be your becon of hope and safety but no you decide to find salvation in other people not worth your time or prescence and that angers him oh it angers him so much.

Its like someone is squeezing his hear tand then stabbing it over and over again to the point hes left breathless.

Hes always been good at masking his anger with either a playful smile, but their will always be that subtle twitch and a vein popping right from under his neck to signify his rage.

He feels like when he first heard of jasons death just this time he didnt loose you physically but emotionally he did. And that hurts even more than words can describe.

Guilt eating up his very being at the predicament he found that you moved out, that their is no trace of you but sketchbooks and music sheets as well of various daries littering around your room and thats his only semblance of connection he gets to have with you through your left behind stuff.

Because the only way to lessen the guilt than face it is to learn about you, to prove to you that he knows at least a few things about you but thats far from the truth. But he can deleud himself into thinking that.

Because dick has never been one to cope well. And that may be the one of many toxic traits he has acquired over the years.

But he cant stop himself from working on his toxic traits not when hes currently obsessing over where you are who you are with and if your safe.

A more logical part of him wants to infom that family about you moving out but another greddy part of himself wants to keep it to himself.

To keep you to himself because he is your big brother, the one you used to look up to like he hung stars in the sky, the one who you used to follow around like a lost puppy.

but instead this time he's going to give you the attention and love you deserve no matter what no matter the cost of it.

He wants his baby back and he will do whatever it takes to bring you back one way or another even if you come unwillingly.

Because you are his baby, after all his little bird.

You’ve been doing better lately both physically and mentally ever since you finally moved out of the manor 4 months ao, yeah you could only afford a crappy apartment near the more dangerous parts of gotham but the freedom of it is more than anything.

Because you get to finally be yourself without the worry of damian hurting you without the worry of jasons snide comments and Tim’s blank stare.

You can finally be free from the suffocation and the neglect that you experienced for many years.

Before you graduated you were offered a scholarship to go to gothams top music college which of course you accepted that giving you more off and opportunity to leave.

And you been excelling in college minus the late due assignments and the missing work youd say your doing great. You've even gotten your own little small friend group!

But that little peace you had for yourself ended when the texts started coming in from dick.

They unnerved you not onky was he finally talking to you and acknolody you but the messages he has sent unnerved you.

Which leaded you to block him thinking nothung off it as you presumed on with your day but when the following week hit you cant help but feel like your being watched.

Everywhere you go, even in your own home, you feel like your being stalked like prey and this scares you.

And then the messages from dick started back up again but this time his messages are more darker, possessive to put it straight and youve never seen this side of dick well you dont really know dick to an extent.

And this scares you becase you dont know dick so you dont know his overall behavior and right now hes unpraditable.

You have a hunch he's the one whose been stalking you which scares you even more to the point you're always watching your back and always on edge and you cant do anything about it.

It feels like when you were back at the manor where you had no control over your life, and you refuse to let that happen again you refuse to be hurt all over again.

You dont know what type of game dick is playing but you refuse to entertain him. Because you know he doesn't mean it.

He doesn't love you like he loves your other so-called siblings, and its always been that way for half of your life that you lived at the manor.

No one actually loved you for who you were and it hurts to accept but thats the truth. Your nothing but a shadow to them and it will always be that way.

A shadow that reflects but never preforms. And shadow that is their but is never actually noticed.

And yoive sadly come to terms with that. But why now does dick presuably want to reconnect with you? to bond with you as if nothing had happened?

This angers you but also hurts you deeply.

What right does he have to suddenly walst back into your life and try to recconnet. No you wont fall for his fucking bullshit.

You refuse to no matter how much your heart yearns your brain knows better. Because yoive already been broke beyond repair you cant handle getting hurt anymore.

So you'll make sure he doesn't hurt you. By ignoring him, blocking him out like he did with you because ts only fair they do say karma is a bitch right?

Dick is seething. Why are you ignoring his texts. Why did you block him?

No matter how many times he changes his phone number to try and communicate with you, you ignore him. He knows he has no right to be hurt and that he deserves it but still!

He’s your older brother hes just trying to make sure your okay. Totally not because he wants to have your attention. But still!

So he had to resort to more drastic measures to make sure your safe. He wouldn't call it stalking, essentially but more like hes looking out for your well being. Yeah that's it!

But it's been hard to do it without you at least noticing him, or being scared.

It irritates him but it also saddens him on how you feel so uncomfortable with his mere presence.

But don't worry! He will make sure you get used to him being around you all the time!

He just needs to bring you home first is all. And dick always gets his way no matter what.

You groan as you sit up having no recollection of what happened. One minute you were walking to work the next.

Dick came behind you and knocked you out. Wait dick. Oh shit you need to get out of here now!

Before he comes back! You try to stand up but then you notice the chain wrapped around your anckle tied to the bedpost of the cramped room.

This causes you to widen your eyes in pure fear. What the fuck? Did he really just chain you in here!

But before you could fully process what's going on you hear the same haunting voice of dick Grayson.

Baby! Your up my little bird!

Your fucked

Authors note: thank you acid for your wonderful work and I hope you enjoy my gift!

[spencer-todd]

Keeping up with the Waynes

(Mission Report)

Bruce: So, let me get this straight. Lex Luthor was in Gotham.

Damian: Yes.

Bruce: And you found him.

Damian: Yes.

Bruce: And confronted him.

Damian: Yes.

Bruce: And you found out that he was doing experiments with Kryptonite serum on puppies?

Damian: Yes.

Bruce: So you got mad. And then?

Damian: And then I shot him in the ass five times as he ran from my sword like a coward.

Bruce: Where did you get a gun?

Jason: To be fair, that was a completely valid response to a report of tortured puppies.

Bruce: Oh.

[lukazade]

Idk what the context is and I'm the one who drew it,,, was he training with his hair down? Who knows. They're chillin now in any case!

[owlwithanapple]

Eternal Engagement

Chapter 02

Signs of transformation

After what happened yesterday, Damian left your room at dawn. It was already the next afternoon when you woke up. You had been sleeping for a long time. There was a chair next to the bed. The strange thing was that this chair should have been in front of the desk, but you didn't think much about it. Recalling you felt that strength was drained for a moment yesterday, but recovered today.

Hearing... No change, just a temporary phenomenon.

You changed clothes and prepared to go downstairs. Before that, you saw a black car parked at the door through the window. You knew who was coming with that exaggerated luxury car. You went downstairs and walked towards the living room. A familiar voice came, and you leaned out to see who it was. You saw your daddy, Damian and uncle Bruce. The three of them were sitting on the sofa and talking about you in a serious manner.

You hid at the stairs, not knowing what to do. The point is, you didn't do anything bad, so why hide? A hoarse voice interrupted your worries, "My future daughter-in-law, don't you come and show your face to your father-in-law?"

"Uncle Bruce, don't call me that... It's embarrassing." Bruce is like your second father, always teasing you.

Your daddy was sitting next to Damian, trying hard to hold back his laughter, your fiancé was as arrogant as usual. You ignored him and stood at the stairs. Bruce saw that your interaction was at a stage of no progress. He chuckled and stood up walked towards you, opening his arms with a bitter smile "Give Uncle Bruce a hug?"

You know Bruce is comforting you in a more caring way, you go forward to give him a hug, he pats your back and then lets go. He knows Damian's tone is always sarcastic and annoying, it's normal for you to dislike him. He puts arm around your shoulders and takes you to sit on the sofa. Damian, who was scrolling on his phone, stops his fingers and casts his emerald eyes on the two of you.

"I heard from Clark that you heard a cry for help from a far distance. Did you feel any changes in your body after waking up?" Bruce clasped hands on his knees carefully observed your body and condition.

You shook head to indicate no, and he nodded slightly. You said, "I haven't changed at all. I felt my body was hollowed out when I touched Kryptonite yesterday, but I recovered today."

"What a disappointment. I thought someone had a chance, but nothing happened." These words cut through your heart like a knife. Damian put away his phone, with a smug smile on his face like he was laughing at you.

"Damian, shut up." Bruce glared at Damian, and you felt a chill with Bruce’s voice.

"I didn't say anything wrong, father. It's all true. You didn't say it clearly-" Damian stated the truth without hiding it, and those words hurt you badly.

"I... I'll go to the kitchen to prepare drinks for you all." You got up and left in a panic.

"Is all you can do to avoid reality? How pitiful." Damian said.

You don't want to marry him, don't want to spend your life with him, he has never been gentle to you. His cold and ruthless emerald eyes and the piercing words in his mouth are like several knives that keep leaving scars deep in your heart. You can't change the facts, because he is right. Everyone cares about your feelings, so they choose to avoid these factors.

You went to the kitchen in frustration, opened the cupboard and took out the tea bag to prepare for brewing. While waiting for the hot water to boil, you were distracted and vaguely heard your daddy and Bruce scolding Damian, but he just didn't care about anyone's opinion. Self-centered people, you feel very jealous, why is he better than you.

After the tea was brewed, you carefully placed it in front of the three people. When you were about to take the teapot to pour the tea, Bruce patted the empty seat next to you and motioned you to sit down. Your daddy poured the tea into the cup and pushed it in front of you. You took it and taste it carefully, Bruce patted your shoulder as if to comfort you.

"Don't take Damian's words to heart. You know how he talks." He showed a bitter and worried look when he noticed your low mood.

"I know... I don't blame him. It's futile to argue." You were frustrated but tried to hold on to your emotions. You put down the teacup.

"Little princess, don't be like this-" Your daddy wanted to comfort you but was interrupted by Damian.

Those words hurt more and more, they kept playing in your mind over and over again. "It's not shameful to face the reality. If you want to blame someone, blame yourself for not being qualified to have super powers. You can only envy, jealousy and hate. It's a shame for the weak and it's useless."

You want to run away, run to a place where no one can find you. Run away? What happens after you run away? You can escape once, but can't escape forever. It just makes you more pathetic and cowardly, it won't change anything. You keep reminding yourself to be confident, but you are very depressed by Damian's words.

"Damian, everyone here is worried about her. You are her fiancé, why do you want to belittle her from an outsider's perspective? Instead of giving her enough encouragement and protection?" Your daddy trusts Damian as much as he trusts Bruce, and he knows very well that your mom doesn't agree with the engagement agreement. But he didn't expect that this time the words were too heavy, he could no longer suppress Damian's behavior towards you.

"Superman, I give her enough encouragement and protection, and what? I am her fiancé, but I also have my own ideas. Do you want her to expect something that she can't get in her lifetime?" Damian stared at Clark, without any room for compromise.

"I asked you to come to Metropolis yesterday to check on her situation, as her fiancé. Not as an outsider who would increase her negative emotions." Bruce tapped the coffee table, his tone as if ordering him to shut up.

You cleared throat and took a deep breath. "Daddy, Uncle Bruce, stop it. Let him say whatever he wants. I'm going to take a walk outside."

You left home with a frustrated mood. Your daddy came forward to stop you but you refused. You went to the farm and kicked the pebbles on the ground vent your anger, and kept cursing Damian. At such a long distance, Bruce and Damian couldn't hear what you were cursing except for your daddy's super hearing.

"Damian Wayne you bastard! Stinky Robin! Inconsiderate bastard!" After you cursed, your eyes blurred and felt unwell for a while. You began to rub your eyes, slowly became hot. You couldn't suppress it for long. You shot a red laser light towards the rice field, and it instantly caught fire and burned the rice.

"Oh my God... No no no... Daddy!" You ran towards the house.

Clark's super hearing was always focused on your heartbeat, until he heard your heartbeat was very panic and shouting from afar. He rushed to open the door at lightning speed. The rice in the distance was on fire, and your frightened figure was running towards him.

"Bruce! Watch her! I'll go take care of it!" Your daddy's first countermeasure was to put out the fire. He flew over quickly and rushed to the direction of the rice. A gust of wind blew over your head. He rose in the air and took a deep breath and exhaled in the direction of the fire. After a while, the fires finally disappeared.

You were tired of running and sat on the ground, panting. A pair of hands grabbed your shoulders from behind. It was Bruce, Damian who was standing by and observing. Superman, your daddy landed in front of you, the first thing he did was not to blame you, but to hug you. He released the hug and looked directly into your eyes. The traces of your laser eyes disappeared.

"Did you hurt yourself?" Your daddy gently touched your head.

You shook head to indicate no, and his worried expression made you feel very sad. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, daddy. My eyes were hot just now, that's it..."

"I don't blame you, I just want you to be safe." Your dad locked his eyes on Damian. In fact, he had some hope that Damian would take care of your feelings, just like he silently stayed by your bed while you were sleeping last night.

Bruce stepped forward to observe carefully and found the changes in your thermal vision. "I was amazed. She didn't wake up directly like Jon. She seemed to be changing herself slowly."

"But... it's intermittent, which is unreasonable. Why didn't her superpower burst out directly?" Your dad looked at Bruce in confusion.

"Let's go to the batcave. If we continue like this, I don't know if she will suddenly burst out with something. Damian, it's time to go back to Gotham." Bruce finished his words seriously and took out his phone as if to contact someone.

"Understood, Da-hm? Damian? What's wrong?" Your daddy noticed that Damian was distracted, as if he was thinking in a void.

"Is the method I use really effective...?" He muttered.

Damian cast his eyes on your face. This time he didn't say much but remained silent. You trembled, and suddenly an inexplicable feeling came over you. Usually he always has harsh words on his lips, but this time he is observing you very seriously. Why? Until he approached you and knelt on one knee.

You choked up, suddenly very nervous "Why are you staring at me like that?"

His eyes slowly moved down from your face, which was very different from the usual Damian. You were used to his harsh words, but suddenly he was silent, which made you feel uncomfortable. It was really hard to guess what he was thinking. Your father and Bruce looked at each other, not understanding what Damian meant by his intentions and actions.

Just when you wanted to open your mouth to ask more questions, he picked you up with his left hand. In a panic, you wrapped your arms around his neck. He picked up your shoes with his right hand started walking towards the house. He didn't say anything, nor did he look at you again. He was thinking about a lot of complicated details in his mind the whole time.

"Hey Damian Wayne! What are you doing?!" You panicked.

Clark and Bruce in the back didn't know whether to laugh or stop him, until Clark thought of the words and said, "To be honest, I'm worried about leaving my daughter to your son, Damian's mind is really hard to understand..."

"I understand. As a father, I have no idea either. But Dick once told me that Damian asked him how to treat a girl gently." Bruce put his phone away and walked in step with Clark.

"Huh? Him? You mean Damian?" Clark was so surprised that he almost shouted.

"Hahaha, surprise? I had the same reaction as you at that time and almost spilled my coffee." Bruce chuckled as he looked at the two of you.

"If he was half as considerate as Dick, maybe I would have less gray hair and feel at ease to hand over the life of the little princess to him." Clark breathed a sigh of relief and confessed before combing his hair back.

Bruce stopped his steps, Clark turned his head until he noticed that Bruce's eyes were still on the backs of you and Damian. "Maybe it's unfair to the two of them, but Damian gives me the feeling that he doesn't want Y/N to feel inferior for the rest of her life."

"But he shouldn’t use bad words, right? He's her fiancé after all." Clark was confused.

Bruce shook his head to show that he didn't understand. "I have no idea about my son. I hope they can get along. Maybe there will be some changes in the future."

At this moment, you don't know what to do. Only can wait quietly for him to stop. Damian Wayne doesn't say anything to humiliate you. You want to quarrel with him but don't have the chance. He doesn't express his thoughts. He values ​​his dignity very much, and then uses bad words to hurt others. This is why you hate him.

Damian will steal a few glances at you when you are not paying attention. His emerald eyes wander over you. He is making sure you are intact since you just lost control and used heat vision. He sighed silently, not because he was impatient with you, but because he was thinking a lot about your superpowers.

In the evening, Gotham City, Wayne manor—

Since your daddy and Jon have responsibilities cannot stay with you, you will be taken care of by the Wayne family for the time being. Although your mom is very dissatisfied, the main reason is Damian Wayne. But she still compromised for your superpowers. She added that if Damian makes you unhappy, don't be afraid of him, you are Superman's beloved daughter, you can fight him head-on. You are really inferior to your mom in stubbornness, no wonder your daddy is so obsessed with her.

You followed Bruce and Damian to Wayne manor to stay for a few days. You once did physical ability tests and reports with Jon in the batcave. At that time, you showed no signs of transformation. You were extremely inferior at that time. You still remember that you kept crying and making a fuss, even Uncle Bruce and daddy didn't know how to comfort you.

But there was someone who was very good at making you happy, a very kind butler of the Wayne family. When you got off the car, you saw him waiting at the gate, you felt relieved. It was him, Alfred Pennyworth. He came forward gave you a warm hug, he carried your luggage and walked into the house.

First, Alfred leads you to the bedroom Bruce has arranged for you, which is next to Damian's bedroom. Alfred suggests putting your clothes in the closet first, letting you take a good shower, asking you if there is anything you particularly want to eat, and then he goes to the kitchen to prepare dinner for today.

Damian didn't wait for Bruce to say anything went straight to the batcave. As soon as he stepped in, he was scanned and identified by the system, all the lights and currents turned on automatically. He started the batcomputer and clicked on Jon's physical analysis report. He sat down leaned back in the chair, reading all the details carefully, and then replayed the record of the first time you two experienced the meta analyzer here.

"Little D, aren't you going to accompany your fiancée?" A voice came from behind, it was Dick Grayson aka Nightwing. He stood aside wiped sweat, staring at the screen, which contained a video clip of you and Jon.

"Alfred is taking care of her, I have to be busy with important things." The keyboard made a rapid clicking sound, his fingers kept pressing on each key. He was analyzing all possible factors, and his eyes were all focused on the big screen.

"The important thing is about fiancée or her superpowers?" Dick curled his lips and smiled.

He stopped the movement of his fingers, clenched his fists said stubbornly, "Superpowers."

"You are so tsundere, why don't you just admit that you care about her? Bruce told me that you did it again said bad things to her. Let me guess, domineering play?" Dick turned the chair around and let Damian face his face.

"No, you think too much." Damian turned back to face the big screen.

Dick chuckled, walked over to Damian, grabbed his arm and pointed at his ring finger. "I wonder which stubborn guy loves his fiancée so much that rarely takes off the engagement ring except when he is on patrol."

"Fuck you! Don't say such nonsense-" Damian shook Dick's hand off and tried to argue but interrupted by Bruce clearing his throat.

"Hi, Bruce, welcome back. Where's the little princess of the Kent family?" Dick let go of Damian's hand while trying to hold back a laugh.

"She and Alfred are sorting clothes in the bedroom. Damian, should you be here or with her?" Bruce asked, his eyes fixed on the big screen.

"Alfred is with her. Besides, I have something to deal with now." The keyboard sounded again, his eyes were fixed on the big screen and he was busy.

"Oh my god, you also read the genetic test report? How much do you care about the structure of every cell in her body?" Dick was surprised, looking at the complex analysis system on the big screen.

"Jon's genetic sample was kept, and it has changed over the years. From a mortal's physique to a superpower body." He stopped his finger movement and pointed at Jon's report and said calmly.

"You want her to experience the meta analyzer again?" Bruce asked curiously.

"That's right. Take her genes and send them to the laboratory for analysis and testing. Maybe we can-" Before Damian could finish his words, Bruce tapped the keyboard.

"We can find out if she has changed since the first time." Bruce said.

Damian and Bruce looked at each other and nodded to indicate that it was correct.

Dick looked at the big screen, which was full of your information. Each one was classified in detail and stored in D.W's private folder. "Wait, why aren't your fiancée's things in the Kent Family folder?"

"Don't look at these fucking details!" Damian quickly closed and returned to the homepage of batcomputer.

"Hey, language. Don't let Alfred hear it." Bruce chuckled.

You put the clothes in the closet, Alfred went to the kitchen to prepare dinner. You sat in the living room watching the video playing on the big screen TV. You had nothing to do so went to the kitchen to help Alfred. He saw through your uneasy mood, so he asked you to clean the dishes and put them on the dining table in order.

"Miss Y/N, thank you for your help. I have to go to the batcave to inform them that dinner is ready." He bowed and prepared to leave.

"Ah, okay, Uncle Alfred." You nodded.

Suddenly, an idea came to him, he poked your shoulder smiled slightly "How about we go together? The Batcave has been upgraded a lot in recent years, do you want to visit?"

Your eyes widened and almost glowed "Really?! I want to visit!"

You followed Alfred's steps to the secret passage leading to the batcave. The moment you stepped into the elevator, the door closed immediately, and automatically descended to the batcave floor. You tapped the thick glass cover around the elevator, which was covered with super hard and resistant structural materials. While descending to the bottom floor, you saw Bruce and Damian in front of the batcomputer, and Dick kept waving at you.

Landing on that floor, the elevator door opened automatically. The environment was as quiet and cold as usual, could hear the sound of your footsteps echoing after walking a few steps. Dick rushed towards you, before you could say hello, he picked you up and spun around twice. As gentle and steady as usual, he said optimistically, "Hi~ Long time no see~ Kent's little princess~ Did you miss me~"

"Hello, Dick." You were surprised but happy.

"Ahem, Master Dick. Please put her down, you will scare Miss Y/N. And please take a shower first." Alfred told him with a smile.

"Okay, okay, I know." Dick looked at Alfred's serious expression and laughed. He didn't put you down, just lifted you up walked to the position of the batcomputer and the other two.

"TT, put her down." Damian stretched out hands, and Dick dodged him.

"What? Are you jealous? I won't let her go~" Dick mocked him, but in fact Dick's intention was to expose Damian's jealous side.

Bruce and Alfred held back their laughter dared not laugh out loud, because they watched Damian trying to take you back, Dick held you and dodged Damian's every move. But Dick made a mistake, Damian used his feet to make a fake move towards his knees. Subconsciously, Dick let go of you for a moment, and when the opportunity came, Damian quickly slid over and caught you in his arms with both hands.

At the critical moment, you fell into Damian's arms intact without any pain. Bruce was amazed at Damian's skills, felt proud and impressed because he cultivated him. Alfred applauded Damian because he performed a good performance of a hero saving a beautiful woman. Dick smirked and whistled teasingly to praise Damian's behavior.

"Good job at protecting your future wife. I have to learn this trick. I wonder if Kori will like it." Dick poked Damian's cheek smiled as he left the batcave to take a shower.

"Well done, Damian." Bruce followed Alfred out of the batcave.

Meanwhile, you were in a very awkward situation. The two of you were suddenly alone. You were being cold to him, and he was hurting you with bad words. You stole a glance at him and immediately avoided him. He still wore the engagement ring. Strange, doesn't he hate wearing the engagement ring?

You cleared throat and tried to talk. "Uncle Alfred is ready for dinner."

He glared at you like a sharp knife ready to stab you. "I know."

He let go, and you walked towards the elevator after standing firm. He looked at your back, took a step forward and said, "I hate your inferiority complex because don't have superpowers. Don't think that you should have superpowers just because you are Superman's daughter."

You stopped and didn't even look back. You two obviously don't understand each other, he is like a mirror reflecting the depths of your soul. Why do you expect him to be gentle and considerate? It's a fact that he hates you, and stronger than you because of experience and strength.

Suddenly, a hand hugged your waist, the hand holding your waist was not strong enough to hurt you. You leaned your back against his chest, he lowered his head and his magnetic voice came into your ears, "If you feel inferior again, I will remind you again and again, even if it's bad words, don't indulge in that field. Because... my fiancée used to be a very confident and cheerful girl, even if she didn't have superpowers."

It was the first time heard him say such words at such a close distance. His words were cold and harsh, but with a hint of tenderness. You were shocked and enlightened. Before you could tell him what you thought, his hand loosened from your waist and he walked away from you. He walked towards the elevator door and pressed the button. The door opened automatically. He stepped in and leaned to the side, as if waiting for you.

"Why are you standing there? I'm hungry." For the first time, he was waiting for you.

You gently stroked your cheek with index finger to avoid his gaze, and couldn't help but blurt out the puzzled question "Is your brain broken?"

He rolled his eyes and walked out of the elevator, grabbing your arm and pulling you into the elevator together. "You are the one who is slow, and you are just inferior and jealous."

The two of you stepped into the elevator, the double doors closed then rose automatically. You stood in the corner silently looked at his back with his back to you. You couldn't understand him, whether he was angry or encouraging you, he didn't let go of his hand. He was wearing the engagement ring all the time, you couldn't tell. Daddy always said that he was very similar to Bruce, a little difficult to deal with but a good person. From your perspective, he is more difficult than Bruce!

"Are you angry with me? Do you hate me?" you muttered.

He pinched your hand hard and didn't hurt you. "Don't ask meaningless questions."

"Oh alright..." You were silent while waiting for the elevator to rise.

It reached the manor floor and the door opened. Instead of walking out, he let go of your hand and turned his head to look at you, gently pressing your forehead with two fingers. "I have never had those boring and negative thoughts about you, don't let your mind wander."

For a moment, don't know if it was your illusion, but the corners of his mouth rose, you were stunned in place without waking up from the surprise. Until he noticed didn't hear your footsteps, he turned around, and he waited for you for the second time. He walked towards you step by step, grabbed your arm and pulled you out from the elevator to his side.

"Superman's daughter, the future Mrs. Wayne, be confident." This sentence seemed to be encouraging or mocking you, you couldn't tell what he was thinking.

He put his arm around your shoulders and guided you to move forward. He let go and put his hands in pockets walked in the corridor with you at the same pace. You stole a glance at him, his expression didn't change at all, he looked as proud as usual. He looks like Bruce in temperament, maybe like his mother in personality. So curious about who his mother is.

When you get to the dining room, Bruce and Dick are already waiting, dinner is neatly placed on the table. Bruce puts down his phone taps the empty seat next to him to signal you to sit down. Alfred pulls out a chair asks you to sit down, while Damian pulls out a chair sits next to you. Dick leans forward with his arms on the table, his eyes wandering over your faces.

"Did something happen to you two?" Dick looks at Damian.

"Eh? Nothing, why do you ask?" You take a sip of water.

"Nothing is a good thing. Whatever comes out of his mouth is bad." When Dick's mouth curls up to tease Damian, Damian glares at him like a wolf.

"Bad... maybe there was a moment when I thought he was good..." You blurt out carelessly.

Bruce raised eyebrows blinked several times. He looked at you in surprise and then shifted his gaze to Damian's face. You were drinking water at the moment, not noticing that Damian, who was sitting next to you, had become stiff because of your words. Dick kicked Damian under the table to wake him up, he cleared his throat to calm down.

"Really? Then I hope Damian will always treat you well." Bruce smiled slightly, and Alfred came forward to fill his cup with water.

"Little D, did you hear that? Be good~ and don't be stingy about sharing your love~" Dick whistled and teased him with a smirk.

"Shut up and eat." Damian ignored everyone and started to eat dinner.

Bruce, who was present, breathed a sigh of relief with a smile on his face. Dick kept playing with Damian with his feet under the table. Alfred felt very embarrassed when he saw their ungentlemanly behavior, but he still smiled. There was no bad words or swearing, the atmosphere was somewhat cordial but you were still as nervous as ever.

You chat with them about some things while eating dinner to enhance feelings and interpersonal relationships. Although Damian is a man of few words, it is rare for him to say a few words without hurting others. Bruce thinks this is exactly what you and Damian need. After all, you two don't understand each other. It's always unpleasant to meet each other every once in a while. One of the biggest culprits is definitely Damian Wayne.

Just when Bruce and Dick were talking to you very enthusiastically, Damian noticed that there were a few small tomatoes left on your plate. If you are picky about food at Kent's house, Daddy will choose to help you eat it. If you are picky about food at Wayne's house, it is a big taboo for Alfred. Alfred noticed the remaining tomatoes and wanted to ask about it, but Damian quickly put them into his mouth and chewed them when you were not paying attention.

"Master Damian...you...ah...hehe..." Alfred held back his laughter.

"Shut up, Pennyworth." Damian wiped his mouth with a tissue.

Late at night -

It was a quiet night, the vast room seemed very quiet. You missed your family, the noisy Jon, the loud voices of Mommy and Daddy. You searched the contact list on your phone, pressed the dial button and waited for your family to connect the video call. It was connected in less than five seconds, and Mommy's nagging came at the beginning.

"Little princess! Are you comfortable and happy over there? Have you been bullied by Damian? Did Bruce give you good food?" Lois asked incessantly.

"Honey, calm down..." Clark was seen comforting Lois through the screen.

Jon inserted into the camera and waved happily, "Hi~ Haven't you gone to bed yet?"

Talking about happy topics, time flew by and it was already late at night. They were sleepy and hung up the call first. You put the phone beside the pillow and lay down. You turned over on the comfortable and luxurious big bed without any sleepiness. You were used to sleeping in a single bed at Kent's house, but now couldn't sleep. Looking up at the unfamiliar ceiling, it is indeed Wayne Manor, a luxurious, elegant and noble living environment.

Knock—knock—

You heard a crisp knock on the door, you threw off the quilt, got out of bed and walked to the door. You turned the doorknob and looked out through the crack of the door. It was Damian wearing his Robin equipment. He walked in without your consent, took out a communicator from the utility belt and placed it next to your pillow.

"Pennyworth will stay in the batcave. Father and I will go on patrol. If there is an emergency, use this to notify me." He tapped the communicator.

"Got it, be careful out there ..." you murmured.

"I will." He held the doorknob to leave.

"Goodbye..." You nodded slightly, feeling a little lonely and embarrassed.

He closed the door without saying goodbye. As expected, you didn't understand his thoughts. You picked up the communicator. There was a communication method with the letter R, the abbreviation of Robin. Time passed quietly for an hour, you were not sleepy at all. It was too quiet and didn't dare to sleep, fear that ghosts would appear on the ceiling.

Buzz-buzz-buzz-

You were startled by the communicator, you took it in hand in a panic to take a look. It showed the letter R, it was Damian. You held the communicator tightly began to worry, did he forget to take something? Impossible, that Robin would never make such a low-level mistake. The most forgetful one is Jon. Every time Jon forgets to bring something, it is Damian who prepares and reminds him.

It keeps ringing and you press the answer button "Hello? Dami-no, Robin."

"Still awake." His voice came from the inside.

"Yes, I can't sleep." You were very embarrassed and grabbed the quilt.

"Right...Wait for me, don't hang up." You didn't want to disturb his patrol, but he told you not to hang up. You listened carefully heard the groaning of someone being beaten and the sound of gunfire. As usual, he was busy fighting criminals and saving Gotham City.

It was quiet, no more groans or gunshots, only the sound of the grapple gun and the wind. Two footsteps were heard, he landed somewhere. He drew his sword, as if he was cleaning his weapon, and everything was so quiet.

"Just say whatever you want to say, I'll stay with you until you fall asleep." He said.

You were so scared that almost turned off the communicator. You didn't hear it wrong, it wasn't an illusion. He just said it very clearly, every word to let you know. You choked up and were very nervous. Could it be a trap? After thinking about it, you couldn't understand him. He was really hard to understand. He was harder than Bruce, confirmed!

You took a deep breath, brewed the words, then started to talk to him about some interesting stories you had experienced. There was a moment when he listened quietly, and at some moments, you could hear him fighting with criminals or eating. He also responded to you, without bad words, a few sarcastic words, but not directed at you, but at what you had experienced.

"Then, Jon and I..." You slowly fell asleep.

A wave of sleepiness hit you, you began to yawn. Talking for too long seemed to hypnotize yourself. You fell asleep on the bed, and the sound of snoring came into the communicator, but he didn't hang up the communicator. He was sure that you were really asleep, but he was still listening to your snoring. He chose to accompany you silently in this way.

Batman noticed that communicator was not hung up, he pointed at it and asked, "Robin, your communicator-"

"It's okay. Continue patrolling." He answered stubbornly.

"Robin, you can go back first in special circumstances." Batman found your name on the communicator, he held back a smile.

He was sure that you were asleep, he would only stay by your side and leave before you woke up. He rolled his eyes to avoid Batman, "No, let's continue."

Batman breathed a sigh of relief and chuckled, because he discovered Damian's considerate side, "Okay, continue."

In the morning, the sun shines through the curtains. You wake up and yawn and rub your eyes. The first thing you notice is the chair next to the bed. You raise eyebrows and feel strange. Why is the chair next to your bed? The second thing you notice is the communicator has been disconnected. You check the last call time is four o'clock in the morning.

You are surprised. You fell asleep at about one o'clock yesterday, but the call was disconnected at four o'clock. Could it be that Damian didn't hang up? He has been listening to the sound of your sleep? You feel so ashamed. You are an idiot! Wish your snoring is not unpleasant, otherwise he definitely use this to mock you.

"Miss Y/N, are you awake? I have prepared breakfast." Alfred's gentle call came from outside the door. You’re looking forward Alfred’s breakfast.

"Okay! I'll be down right away!" You get out of bed, wash up in the bathroom, change into your daily clothes, go downstairs after you are ready.

Alfred is pouring coffee, there is no one near the dining table. You just found out that Bruce and Damian, two busy guys, had gone to Wayne Enterprises for a meeting this morning, Dick went to Titans Tower to train with his teammates, Alfred needed to go out to buy some groceries.

You nodded silently to show your understanding, after Alfred left, suddenly the phone at home rang. You were the only one left in the manor, you had no choice but to answer it.

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[yzur02]

Alfred, looking at Damian: he looks more like his grandparent everyday

Cass: Ra's?

Alfred: no, miss Cassandra, his other grandparent

Cass: *confused head tilt* uh?

Hours later:

Alfred: *doing chores*

Corrie: *runs in* there you are!

Alfred: *takes extinguisher* is something wrong?

Corrie: no, no, all's fine, we just needed you a second, I found him!!

Everybody runs into the room, Jason steps forward while holding Damian by the armpits, leveling his face with Alfred's

Damian, hopefully: so?

Corrie: right th- no, that's not it...

Steph: if you squint... maybe?

Tim: if you tilt your head kinda... no

Jason:... *sigh* nope, I don't see it

Damian: tt perhaps the suit wasn't such an horrendous idea

Steph: a moustache?

Dick: don't worry, I know you will grow on it

Bruce: what's going on?

Cass: Alfred said Damian was growing to look like grandpa, so we wanted to check... *frowns* but he doesn't look like Alfred

[batsis-reader]

batsis: In my defense, I was left unsupervised. Bruce: Wasn’t Jason with you? Jason: In my defense, I was also left unsupervised.

[invincibledc]

⋆˙⟡—MY DC OCS REACTION TO YOU SAYING “I LOOK UGLY”⋆˙⟡



⋆˙⟡ JACK QUINN (son of Harley Quinn and joker)

Immediately is towering over you, expression dark.

“Who said that to you? Cause you’re beautiful, you’re handsome , stunning, and—” and it would keep going til he just makes you feel secured. He hates to see his beloved puddin' feelin bad.

Cause if it was someone who said it to your face, they won’t live long enough to say that to anyone else.

⋆˙⟡ KOLE ANDERS (adoptive son of Starfire aka Kory Anders)

Frowns as he looks you up and down , “but you are more attractive than any human I met?”

Bros fully confused on why you said it til you tell him it’s just a joke and now he just nods.

But then later on he goes over to you when you forgot about the whole prank, he then kisses your cheek. Smiling seeing the shock on your face, “you are gorgeous.”

And he just flys off.

⋆˙⟡ DEMETRIUS PRINCE (son of wonderwoman and Steve Trevor)

“Hm?” Looks at you as he was mid bite into a huge sandwich. “Yeah you are pretty ugly.” He says jokingly, not thinking it would affect you til he sees you start to cry.

Drops the sandwich and immediately spews apologies while cupping your face. “Wait! Wait! I’m sorry, you aren’t ugly! You’re the most gorgeous person ever y/n—”

He spoiled you the whole day after the whole incident, Damian blackmails him saying how that you’re his number one weakness as Jon just awes at how Demetrius is more soft with you.

[eternallyhauntingthehouseoflove]

Hey there👋👋 could you please do whatever love language of the bamboos are ??

LOVE LANGUAGE OF THE BATBOYS

A/N: terribly sorry I let this request collect dust. My interest in comics fell as life got hectic and whatever the hell. I won't go all Wattpad author on you.

Dick Grayson’s love language is words of affirmation. At the peak of his characterization, he is a man ravenous for praise and attention. A moment of peace, of relief, of sweetness.

Stunted, yet too grown for his own good—simultaneously. He will seek attention, showering you with gifts and compliments in hopes that you reciprocate. Holidays would read like a HallMark movie that would move suburban mothers to tears.

Dick is also the man to send romantic quotes stolen from Pinterest, and the occasional confusing poem of his own hand. His nerves would grind as he read the ‘’seen’’ stamp beneath his text, worried out of his mind that it didn't properly convey his emotions, his love.

“What, no reply yet? If you're that moved, you could always come kiss me.” He'd send the message, playing it off as a joke. But his stomach groaned with the familiar ache, that cold and empty feeling of uncertainty.

What if she doesn't like it? Will she still like me? Would I seem lame if I double texted? Am I bugging her?

The flames of self doubt would spread and eat at his mind until his phone pinged with a,” it's beautiful, babe. A hard read, but the intention was there.” And a flirtatious emoji paired with it.

Thus, the flames of doubt were stomped out, like they never existed. They liked the poem, and he would spend hours rereading it. Marveling and gushing because you liked it. Something he made.

Jason Todd's love language is acts of service. It's a loyalty thing for him.

Gift sharing could be manipulation; soft words could be lies, and he's too self-loathing to believe them anyway. Red Hood swallows his spare time, and his desire for touch swung on a pendulum—one side thirsting for it, the other side uncomfortable.

The thought of returning home to a nice and warm meal would make him melt into a puddle. Or finding his hero suit washed, and his gear cleaned and stored away.

It reignites a flame in his cold eyes, the domesticity calling forth an unclassified emotion that sent goosebumps blazing over his skin like wildfire, calling his arm hairs to attention.

Jason would return the favor. You would awake to find breakfast made, the aroma of bacon and eggs thick in the air, the sweetness of syrup carrying around the house. Scalding tea trickling into a pot, milk and sugar already on the table. Plates washed and set.

Jason would also do laundry and iron clothes. He gets those random bursts of energy (or adrenaline) and cleans the entire house spotless.

Baths would be drawn for you, and if he's feeling lavish, he'll add roses to the bubbles. The finest soaps would lather your skin, scented with the the best smelling perfumes—business was good, and it was a present. His calloused fingers would be overjoyed to massage your scalp (he hoped you'd do his next).

Tim Drake’s love language is quality time. Also, I would like to preface this section by admitting I haven't read much of Tim.

He would help you study. Textbooks adorning the wooden table after hours of quizzing. Coffee steaming in a mug, pens and highlighters scratching at paper. Kisses shared with each right answer.

He'd tease,” Oh, that was a hard one. A trick question.” A smirk, sweet as frosting would tug on his lips, then a warm kiss would swallow yours.” If I were as filthy minded as Jason, maybe I'd crack a joke.”

Tim’s gaze would find you, in the middle of whatever—washing dishes, doing laundry, exercising. They'd burst with amorous passion, like exploding stars, shimmering and twinkling in his irises.

When the sun kisses Gotham goodnight, and the moon assumes it duty, he'd find himself wishing he could be beside you. Not Batman, not Dick, certainly not Damian. That's not proof that he hates his colleagues or that his work is last on the list of priorities. It's just. . . you're higher.

“Hey, love,” he'd speak into the phone, after the voicemail prompted him.” I know you're likely sleep tonight. But I wanted to at least call and tell you to sleep safe and warm. And to save space for me.” A chuckle would roll of his tongue, the wailing of police sirens in the background.

Damian Wayne's love language is also quality time.

Time is precious to him. His mother’s presence was unreliable. He, his father, his siblings tango with dead every silvery night. Each misfortune in his family reminded him of that.

Robin is not what Dick thinks. It's not just bursting into hideouts and knocking the crap out of villains. The peril is real, as well as the potential for failure—and failure in their line of work means death.

Oracle was paralyzed in a second, one wrong move and her nerves were shot. Jason’s life was quite literally put on a clock, killed by time itself. When Damian was an assassin, it merely took seconds to end a life, one of emotion and desires and opinions—gone at the stroke of a blade.

Time matters.

Damian would try to spend all of it with you, doing anything. Attending museums, painting you, listening to your playlists. Finding the child he was depraved of for so long. Being an angsty teenager and loving it.

“This is considered fun?” A dark eyebrow of his would raise teasingly. There you sat, at a sport's game, the roaring crowd trembling the stadium and stabbing his ears. The golden beam of the sun roasting both you, and the overpriced popcorn tossing and gurgling in his stomach.

But, deep down, the liveliness of the crowd intrigued him. Even he'd find himself screaming along with the masses on their feet, yelling out praise or curse words.

Damian's jade irises would slide over to you, the sheer glee decorating your features. A painting. He'd see a masterpiece in you; how that expression would translate onto a canvas.

[deadsetobsessions]

Pt. 3

Again, the timing is icky but pretty much everything about it is icky.

——

Bruce wondered when Talia al Ghul would stop upheaving his life.

He loves Damian, but one surprise child was a lot, considering the cult deprogramming they’d had to do.

A second, older, surprise child? That was a bit overkill.

At least this time, the conception was consensual.

Bruce cradled his head in his hands, still-gloved fingers gripping onto sweat-soaked hair. The glow of the bat computer shone on his lone figure, sat huddled before endless screens of investigations and the unraveling threads of Bruce’s sanity.

How was he to cope with the knowledge that a child- his child, like Dick and Damian and Tim and Jason and- suffered so at the man he thought he had beaten so soundly?

It was his fault, Bruce thought, that Ra’s al Ghul tortured his… Bruce’s… daughter so brutally. It was no doubt, a way to assuage his anger at Bruce’s denial of being his heir.

His mistakes always came back to haunt him, but it never laid its furious eyes and hands on his own person. No, when Bruce made mistakes, his loved ones paid for it.

He tried his best, pushed harder as Batman, in penance. But this… his unknown daughter, trapped in the shadows of the league where it is cold and cruel and brutally painful…

How could he repent for the sin of letting his daughter suffer and chained at the hands of Ra’s al Ghul? How could he show her that the shadows could be kind? That he would rather break his own spine and get lost in the time stream again before he could even fathom hurting her? He found himself stuck in the same loop of thoughts that plagued him when Damian first came into his orbit.

The screens turned black, and Oracle’s call sign flashed onto the dark pixels.

“Oracle. I hadn’t finished looking at the cases.”

“Go to sleep, Bruce.”

“No, there is still work to be-” his voice, dipping into the growl, died a quick death when Barbara cut him off.

“Your daughter is coming tomorrow. So, unless you want to look like a disheveled grease racoon when you meet her, go shower and get some actual sleep.”

Bruce paused, feeling oddly offended. His eye bags weren’t that bad.

Bruce caught sight of his reflection in one of the blacked out monitors.

…Nevermind.

He sighed. “…Thank you, Barbara.”

“Anytime, Bruce. I’m always here to kick your ass into gear.”

Bruce huffed, but obligingly got up to change and shower. Alfred silently appeared at the elevators, polished shoes tapping against the stone floor as he raised an imperious eyebrow at Bruce.

“I see Miss Barbara has managed to persuade you to retire at an hour common to regular man, Master Bruce.”

“Ah, yes, she… did.” Bruce felt the urge to apologize, because if Alfred’s up because of him, it’ll wear down harsher on the older man’s health. If there was one thing he took seriously, it would be the health of his loved ones. “Sorry, Alfred. I’ll head up to bed soon.”

“See to it that you do, Master Bruce. I will warm dinner that you had missed by many hours and bring it to your room.”

Bruce lingered as the butler turned around and began making his way back to the main house.

Alfred paused and turned around once more. “If I may offer you some advice?”

“Please. Always.”

Alfred sniffed delicately, most definitely thinking of the times Bruce decided not to take his very well reasoned and seasoned advice. “You have done well with Young Master Damian.”

“Most of that was Dick,” Bruce interrupted, man enough to admit that he wasn’t a present or a particularly good father figure before his jaunt through time and space. Alfred shot him a chiding look, reprimanding him for interrupting. Bruce rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Perhaps, but you have put in effort towards all of your children in a way that I have yet to see since Master Jason had… gone.”

“I’ll never make that period of time up to Tim.” Bruce whispered. Another thing he was guilty of. Tim still avoided some spaces in the manor, even when Bruce had-

“That is because you sit here, wallowing in your guilt,” Alfred returned. He added a belated “Master Bruce,” and it sounded like ‘you utter buffoon.’

“But…”

“You must take the first step, Master Bruce.”

“What if she hates me? What if I’m not ready- what if I can’t help her?”

“You will try. She deserves that, at the very least. You must try. Even if you are not ready for the day, Master Bruce, it can not always be night.”

“… You’re right.” Bruce straightened his shoulders. Time doesn’t wait. He, of all people, knew that.

“You will find that I am hardly ever wrong.” Alfred primly rested his hands atop each other.

“Thank you, Alfred.”

“Of course. It was also meant literally, Master Bruce, for the sun shall try its best to peek out of Gotham’s smog in approximately three hours and fourteen minutes.”

“I’m going, I’m going,” Bruce grouched.

——

Her mother gave her a slow, cautious hug, akin to approaching a wild animal.

She huffed, and pulled her mother into a crushing hug. She allowed herself, for the first time in a long time, to linger and cling onto her mother’s shirt. Another tendency that Ra’s had thought he’d beaten out of her.

“Be careful,” the reincarnation whispered.

“You as well, my beloved daughter.”

‘You do not have to remind me that I am beloved, mother. I know.’

Talia al Ghul tucked a strand of the reincarnation’s curled hair behind her ear. “No, I do not believe that you do. But that is… my own fault. I will tell you and remind you that you are beloved to me as long as I can. I have two decades of it to make up to you, habibti.”

The flight attendant- a League operative- returned from placing her bags onto the private plane.

——

A sleek car made its way up Wayne Manor’s winding driveway. She’d declined the offer to pick her up from the airport. She had wanted a vehicle of her own, and some time before she met every one else. No doubt, knowing what she knew of her brother and Bruce Wayne, not to mention the little photographer, they were most likely tracing her path to Wayne manor obsessively.

She tapped her nails on the wheel as she drove towards her brother. Brothers. And… Bruce Wayne. On one hand, she’s kept them safe. On the other, she’d sacrificed years of getting to know them. It was odd, to feel this intensely awkward and nervous after years of intense hatred or apathy sprinkled by the the occasional love and fondness for Damian and her mother.

“Hmmm.” She hummed, slight smile spreading a bit more as the sound came out without pain. Two weeks, and the novelty of freedom had not worn off. She thinks that it would never wear off. She cherished it.

The gate had opened without needing a code, so they most definitely knew she was here. It’s a good thing she had prepared gifts in advance. Dodging Gothamites as they drove and jaywalked had been a rather unforeseen ordeal that she was not looking forward to repeating.

She rolled to a smooth stop at the front doors, giving the intricately carved oak doors a passing glance. She huffed a laugh as she saw Damian, flanked by Bruce Wayne and Alfred Pennyworth, staring proudly outside at the front door. They’re anticipatory of her arrival. Warmth spread through her heart, and for the first time in a long while, it wasn’t the heat of rage.

She opened the doors with a quiet click and hiss, stepping out onto the heated paved driveway, and closed the door. At the steps, the two older men had frozen but Damian had come walking quickly towards her.

“Damian,” she whispered as he came near her, suffusing as much fondness as she could into his name. Her little brother all but sprinted towards her, screeching to a stop in front of her with excited eyes.

“Welcome to Wayne Manor, ukhti.” He said formally. Her eyes softened and she pulled him into a hug.

(yā waṭawāṭī alṣṣḡīr is the phonetic spelling.) ("وطواطي الصغير" is the actual spelling. I think.)

“I have missed you, ya wat-wat alssgirr,” she whispered. The familiar endearment, “my little bat,” rung warmly like a warm crease ruffling his hair. The silks of her clothes and the ever present warm sand and candle scent wrapped around him like a hug… like the hug she was currently giving him.

(Her clothes were in blues and silvers. It suited her, she who had been forced in green and golds and cuts of black.)

“I still can not believe you all but told me who father was and I still could not figure it out until mother told me.”

She pulled back. ‘Damian, you were five.’

“I have little doubt you were smarter at my age, ukhti, so do not lie to me.” Damian grumbled. Nevertheless, he stepped back.

‘No, you were smarter.’

And to her, he was. It’s not like Damian had the edge she did, and he wasn’t the one trapped for twenty something years. She had foolishly thought that Ra’s wouldn’t dare to harm her too much, seeing as she was his blood, but Damian knew from day 1. She made sure he did. If she was half as smart as Damian, she would have bent her knee and obeyed, no matter how she felt about killing. She would have taken warning Ra’s issued and soaked in the poisonous praise to bide her time to escape. She could not- she did not- do what Damian found effortless, and paid the price for it.

“Unlikely,” Damian said, turning around fully, but she could see the tips of her brother’s ears burning. Ah, perhaps she had been to stingy with compliments if he was shy hearing a mild one, sincere as it might have been. “This is Alfred Pennyworth. He is the butler, and an integral part of the family.”

Damian glanced at her, taking in her suddenly impassive face, and nods. Good. His attitude towards Pennyworth when he first arrived was… mildly shameful. His ukhti was smart enough to know that and therefore he won the argument.

On her part, the reincarnation followed along like she hadn’t mildly stalked this family for decades. It was nice to see excitement rearing on her brother’s face. It was rare in the league and Gotham’s gloom had ironically cheered him up far more than the suns of desserts ever did. She nodded at Alfred Pennyworth, who had admirably recovered from his earlier shock.

“And this is… Bruce Wayne. Our father.”

She tucked a strand of curled hair back, impassive blue eyes meeting her… father’s.

She offered him a short nod.

——

“My word,” Alfred Pennyworth muttered as his charge’s (his son’s) daughter step out of the car. Her steps were silent, graceful, and lighter than a gazelle.

The way she moved, even as she hugged young master Damian, whispered of leashed lethality and treacherous waters. She moved like if grace had a form and Alfred was willing to bet his entire career that not an iota of air got close to her without her knowledge of it, and it reminded the aging man of the young Miss Cassandra. He knew then, that she could have pretended to be unassuming and that he would have had a hard time equating her with danger. That she showed them her potential for death was a sign of trust.

But it was not the way she claimed death as her own name that caught the former spy’s attention.

No.

It was her blue eyes and the way they ever so slightly crinkled fondly as she laid eyes upon her younger brother. It was the way her hair, curled in a nostalgic style, that curtained her face as she spoke to the young Wayne heir, though he could not hear her voice. It was the way that she tucked Damian against her side, protective but encouraging.

It was the way that she, despite Talia al Ghul’s features, resembled his dearest friend, Martha Wayne, in her every movement.

Alfred Pennyworth felt like he was decades younger, standing before Martha as she fondly tucked Bruce against her side and successfully needled Thomas into going to see Bruce’s favorite movie.

It felt like he had his best friend once more, just a little.

From the way Master Bruce stared, it seemed as though he thought the same.

Alfred straightened when young master Damian introduced him. He was the Wayne Family Butler. And she was definitely a Wayne.

Master Bruce stood there like a lout as his daughter greeted him. Alfred shot him a scathing look- he had taught Master Bruce much better manners than to gape, the nerve!- before smoothly directing the attention away. His hands moved as he spoke.

“Welcome to Wayne Manor, Miss-”

She made a sharp motion to cut him off and signed something. Alfred might be a tad rusty in Arabic sign language (like he and the rest of the family hadn’t spent the last two weeks frantically memorizing and brushing up on their sign language) but he knew a name sign when he saw one.

“al Ghul.” Damian recognized. He did not use regular Arabic Sign Language with her often, vastly preferring their own established sign, but that did not mean he slacked. “You may call her al-Ghul.”

‘Or nothing at all,’ Damian’s sister signed. She looked at him like she was waiting. A test, Alfred realized.

Alfred pushed the slight twinge of disheartening disappointment away. He had wanted to call her Miss Wayne, to perhaps indulge in a bit of nostalgia for a while longer. But he shan’t do it at the expense of his charge.

“Miss al Ghul,” he continued, not missing a beat, imitating the name sign with pin point accuracy. She lifted her chin. Alfred sighed in relief. He passed. And now, perhaps he should revive Ra’s al Ghul and have a nice, entirely civil conversation about Miss al Ghul’s expectation that her wishes would go ignored.

Alfred will bring his shotguns and most likely would abandon pretenses as soon as that old goat got into his crosshairs. Old as he might be, he was still a very good shot, and civility was reserved for those with honor.

“Please head inside. I am sure young master Damian would love to guide you on a tour,” Alfred continued like he didn’t think of violent second deaths for Ra’s al Ghul. “Perhaps Master Bruce will join you, if you are amendable, once he has managed to stop imitating the rather life like form of a smooth brained sloth.”

Alfred congratulated himself on the small crinkle of humor that graced Miss al Ghul’s otherwise expressionless face. Well, expressionless to those that did not know where to look. Fortunately, Alfred and the rest of the family were used to stoic caveman micro expressions, courtesy of Bruce, and therefore it would not be much of a problem.

“I will bring your bags up to your room.”

She scrutinized him and then dipped her head.

‘Be careful. There are dangerous things in there.’

“I assure you the utmost privacy in regards to your belongings,” Alfred said.

“Pennyworth will not peruse your belongings, ukhti. He has more honor and respect than that.”

Alfred would like to interrogate Talia al Ghul to see who he must introduce some lead to, that clearly disrespected Miss al Ghul’s privacy like so. But for now, he will bask in the warmth of young master Damian’s implicit trust.

Miss al Ghul nodded. She opened the trunk of the car- the interior of which Alfred could now perceive to be entirely customized and of extremely quality material. She handed the keys and gave him access to her luggage. Then, placing her hand at young master Damian’s shoulder, followed the young master into the halls where she ought to have been raised. Or, at the very least, ought to have taken a step in at least once before today.

Master Bruce lingered at the doorway, torn between following the siblings and helping Alfred with the luggage (read: running away.)

“The daylight is wasting, Master Bruce.”

Master Bruce skittered in behind them like a newborn colt, wobbling and anxious.

Well, it’s time for Alfred to do his job. There was only a single duffle bag.

Hm. He’ll have to tell Master Bruce to take her out for necessities. He hardly doubted that a single bag could last her very long. And Alfred Pennyworth was hellbent on convincing his granddaughter to stay, may the gods have mercy on whichever poor soul that tried to convince her otherwise for he won’t.

——

She followed Damian as he led her deeper within the walls of a home she knew by heart from afar. She was like the little photographer in that way. Bruce Wayne trailed behind them like a particularly awkward ghoul, and she found it amusing to equate this turtle necked man was the illustrious Dark Knight. How dangerous.

“This is the first parlor. It is for guests of the… regular persuasion.”

Ah, for the civilians. She nodded.

“Ah, the silverware was selected by Alfred.” Bruce interjected, gesturing to the display silverware by the door. Their cabinets were intricate without taking away from the paintings upon the delicate ceramic.

She looked at him, wondering why he was following before giving up and nodding. It was his house.

(Bruce, for his part, felt like his daughter had laid judgement upon him… and found him lacking.)

‘It is… adequate.’ She sighed to Damian. Damian tutted.

“It’s fine to say quaint, sister. It could hardly compare to the palace.”

Bruce jolted, plans for converting the manor into a palace already in the making.

No, he couldn’t. Alfred would murder him with his favorite dish.

‘I like it, even if it is smaller.’

“….you do?”

‘You are happy here. It is warm to you. I like it.’ She repeated.

Damian latched onto her sleeve. “I- I shall show you my art. And then introduce you to the rest of the bumbling fools we have for brothers-”

She tilted her head. Bruce paused as well when Damian’s words cut off.

“If… you want them as brothers. It would be… helpful, to integrate.”

She waited.

“But… I am the first. Your blood. And-”

‘I will make room in my heart for them, if you wish it. I already know some of them.’ She allowed a small smile to show. ‘But that does not mean you will ever lose your place, little bat.’

Damian felt extremely thankful that father had not managed to pick up their version of sign language yet.

“Well… as long as you’re aware.” He marched further into the manor. She followed, once more, a look of fond indulgence gleaming in her eyes.

——

She stood in front of a painting her younger brother had done.

‘I made it two weeks ago,’ he’d told her, fingers curled into her palm.

It was green. She hated green. And gold. And ominous. Rage. Harsh, bold strokes and spots where the texture of the canvas were either globbed over or painfully showing through.

Her hands traced the single stroke of blue amidst the turbulence of green.

She tucked Damian against her side and realized that perhaps he understood after all, what it felt like. Perhaps not all of it, but enough.

——

“Here is your room, ukhti.” Damian stood watch as his sister scanned the room. She quickly removed three listening devices as Damian sighed.

‘You’ve gotten better.’ She crossed the room and plucked the listening bug from its place on the door frame.

“Clearly not good enough.” Damian huffed. “But I have beaten your knife game record. What do you think of the room?”

His sister rolled her eyes and handed him a blade she pulled from somewhere on her person.

An implicit challenge.

“No cutting your fingers off, please.” Father interceded.

“Begone, father. We are doing sibling bonding, something I remember you insisting that I participate in.”

Damian shut the door on his stupefied face, matching his sister’s sharp smirk as he splayed his hand on the dresser and raised the blade.

——

Alfred walked in with a covered plate and paused at the sight of the dresser.

Then, he looked on as Damian sat at the desk, rapidly signing to his sister in their own version of the language as said sister pulled out an entire wardrobe and a half to fill in the walk-in closet.

Alfred made a note to study some more magic.

“Miss al-Ghul. I bring you a snack that young master Damian made and to inform you that the others will be arrive en masse, within an hour.” Alfred paused. “Might I interest you in a mat before the two of you decide to… take a gander at furniture redecoration in the future?”

“Of course, Pennyworth. Apologies.”

“I’ll try to make sure they won’t overwhelm you. They can be a lot, at once.” Bruce said from the doorway. Miss al Ghul glanced at him and dipped her head in thanks. Her eyes wandered right back to the dessert.

Alfred made another note.

‘You made this for me?’ She asked, switching to standard.

Damian grumbled. “Do not eat it. I could not get the spice quite right, no matter how many variations…”

‘I am sure it will be good.’ She took the plate from Alfred’s hand and uncovered it.

They all had the fortune of witnessing a true, genuine wide eyed smile from a stoic face.

Alfred inhaled sharply. He had thought Master Bruce and young master Damian had inherited Thomas’ dimples. But she had inherited his entire smile.

‘Bstilla!’ She turned to Damian. ‘My favorite! You made this?’

“I know that. I am not incompetent as to not notice when you snuck three of them from the palace kitchens. You must give me the recipe from the cooks. I could not get it to taste like the spices they used. I even imported spices!”

Miss al-Ghul, like she had forgotten he and Master Bruce were there, stabbed a fork into the pie and put it into her mouth.

“Ukhti! Don’t- do not eat that! Spit it out! The pastry is too thick and-”

She held up her hand. ‘It’s good. I know what it is missing.’

She strode to her magic bag and pulled out a bottle.

She sprinkled flakes on top and offered a forkful of b’stilla to the young master who, shockingly, did not insist on his own utensil.

His expression lightened. “This is it. What is it? You know of the chefs’ methods?”

She sprinkled the mysterious spice on the food. ‘You’ve never eaten anything the chefs have made. I made your food by hand to prevent assassinations and inoculate you against toxins. Also, this is poison.’

Alfred stiffened.

“It’s what?!” Bruce spoke up, rushing into the room, finally to try and look Damian over.

‘It is fine. He has been immune since he was three.’

Miss al Ghul placed a piece of poisoned b’stilla in her mouth and ate. Young master Damian batted his father off, saying that poison inoculation was hardly a surprise. What was a surprise, though, was something else.

“That is- you- you’re the one who made my meals?” Young Master Damian demanded, looking guilty. “But- I- why did you not tell me? I made all of those demands in the middle of the night- what about the time I sent back the knafe fifteen times?”

She nodded.

“Why would you- why did you not tell me?”

‘You knew what grandfather thought of women. And besides, it was the only time I was allowed sweets. He did not want me to ruin my figure as it would lower my marketability.’

Alfred itched for his gun.

“You are not a commodity,” Master Bruce stated, intense as he tended to be. Miss al Ghul blinked at him.

‘… I am aware. But… thank you.’

“Ah. Yes. Of course.” And there went the emotionally intelligent Master Bruce. May he rest in peace until the next time he decides to make an appearance.

“I believe today is a chocolate chip cookie day, do you not, young master Damian?”

“Yes, Pennyworth, I believe it is.”

‘I have never tried it before.’

“You will love it. Pennyworth’s cookies are the best in the world, as is expected.”

Alfred watched as young master Damian tugged his sister out and marveled. The sides of his grandson they rarely get to see was so easily pulled out by his older sister.

——

Y’all I wanted to write her meeting the siblings but Alfred came out of no where and went haha nope feel the angst of a man who lost his best friend and had to raise her vigilante child.

Alfred, seeing Bruce put on the bat cowl for the first time: martha, why have you forsaken me

——

Me: what would baby assassins play as a binding game?

Me, remembering my past as a kid: I Spy, but with trackers and bugs. oh wait… THE KNIFE GOES CHOP CHOP CHOP

——

Also, I think B’stilla was food meant only for royalty and was probably rooted in slavery, so I thought it would be a meaningful nod to her position of privilege and how she are like a king but was treated as a… bed warmer and a slave. Yeah. If anyone knowledgeable on food history wants to school me on b’stilla, feel free to do so. I did like, a cursory research at best.