#professional brother dick Grayson

[thethingaboutnapkinman]

this fic is amazing and i just decided it's canon. so.

[elizabethemerald]

"Hi Danny, my favorite brother!" The strange girl said into her phone.

Dick was so concerned by this girl who immediately offered to help set his arm, but didn't know he was a hero. He was even more concerned when she said she would need to call her brother for advice. The long and gusty sigh that echoed from the phone at least matched his mood.

"Danielle, you never call me out of nowhere. What's wrong? Are you OK?" An equally young sounding voice sounded from the speaker. One far too young for the weight of exhaustion Dick could hear in his voice.

"Ugh. Fine. I need you to tell me how to set a broken bone."

"Ellie! Did you break a bone?" The boy's panicked voice came through layered over with a burst of static.

"Of course not silly! You know I don't have bones!" Ellie declared. Dick could only stare at her in confusion. There was also a long and agrieved sounding silence from the other person on the line.

"Then whose bone do you need to set? Am I on speaker phone?"

"Sure are!"

"Hello other person. What is broken and how broken is it?" Dick was again struck by how tired and already down this Danny sounded. Also who named their kids Danny and Danielle?

"Hi, It's my arm and not that bad?" Dick answered, hoping to move this conversation along.

"Is the bone sticking out?"

"... No."

"Thank the Ancients, I don't have to fly over to help. Ok Ellie, put me on a video call and I'll talk you through it..."

Dick then had the joy of experiencing one of the most surreal moments of his life as the mysterious Danny, who also didn't Nightwing as a hero and asked if his outfit was a parkour suit, directed his sister through who to set his broken bone, as well as bandage the rest of his injuries with a level of professionalism he usually only saw from Alfred. At no point during the call did Danny turn his own camera on.

Once Dick was in his pajamas (his domino still on) and fully wrapped up and bandaged, with his arm in a sling Danielle started looking around his apartment.

"Sooo.... Do you have anything other than dry cereal here? You don't even have any milk."

"Uh. I could order a pizza?"

Ellie immediately brightened, actually she almost literally brightened, but Dick was sure that was just his exhaustion.

"Oh great idea!"

Dick reach for his phone, confused about how and why he was no apparently playing host. Honestly the whole day had probably been a fever dream.

Dick had finally made it back to his apartment after a long night. One of the criminals he was fighting had distracted him long enough that two others had managed to jump him and break his arm. He was home now though, and he could set it.

Except he couldn't, because there was a little white haired girl rifling through his kitchen. Maybe he could convince her to leave without her noticing his arm.

[mostly-imagines]

There’s A String Tied to My Lower Left Rib, Third From The Bottom

dick grayson x afab!reader

aka the professional boyfriend

warnings: she/her pronouns used, reader wears dresses, sexual content at the end (18+)

Dick Grayson is a vigilante. He’s a master martial artist and gymnast. He’s something of a playboy and a heavy flirt. But the claim he really takes pride in is that he’s basically a professional boyfriend. That he’s your professional boyfriend.

And pride really is the right word. He’s so proud that he gets to have this pretty girl on his arm and buy her pretty things even when you insist you have enough. He loves getting to help you take your makeup off when you’re too tired and make you laugh like it’s his job. He’s absolutely gratified that he gets to be your prodigal, sweet boyfriend that, despite your protests, insisted on carrying all five of your shopping bags for you.

You step over an uneven stretch in the sidewalk and lean slightly against Dick’s shoulder. “I’m worried the navy one is too…much.” You say, thinking back to how the blue cocktail dress fit on you, how it stopped barely below your ass.

He furrows his eyebrows with a pout, “Too much?”

You look over at him, matching his expression. “It’s really short. I mean it’s cute and I like it, but…I don’t know, this is kind of a fancy event isn’t it?” 

He puckers his lips, shaking his head. “Short’s good. I like short.” Yeah, you’d noticed with the way his eyes had been glued to the hem of your dress, willing it to slip up just a little more.

You laugh, “And I’m sure you and all the old businessmen will appreciate it greatly.”

His face drops at that, not thrilled at the prospect of those, usually very sleazy, old men getting to see so much of you. “The black one’s good too.”

You peer over into one of the bags, “Or there’s the red one with the—”

Dick shakes his head quickly, “Not red.”

You snicker at that, knowing full well what his problem is with it. “Then why did I get it?”

“Just for me.” He pauses, “Or for something my brother won’t be at.” He mumbles, scanning both sides of the street. He shuffles the bags in his right hand onto his forearm so he can take your hand in his as you step into the road. “No, the black one looked great on you. And we won’t have to go searching for a matching tie.” 

Once you reach the other side he lets go of your hand and he circles behind you, nudging you over to the inside of the sidewalk.

You glance down at the row of bags littering his arms and the red indents beginning to mark his skin. “Will you please let me hold some?” You frown.

“Will you please hold my hand?” He echoes, matching your serious tone with faux urgency of his own. You deadpan him but take his hand anyway. You don’t notice it, but he’s got a dedicated gaze focused on your fingers intertwined in his.

You continue on down the street, hand in hand, the warm sun shining on your necks. You pick up the pace a bit as you approach your apartment building, aiming to get the door for your boyfriend. You reach for the handle only for Dick to call out, “Don’t touch that!” followed by him clamoring like you’re about to touch a hot coal, rushing over to beat you to the punch.

“Oh my god..” you mumble to yourself, biting back a smile. The bags haphazardly fall further down his arms, no doubt uncomfortably as he pulls the door open for you, pretending to be far more eloquent than he actually was. He gestures you in and smiles sweetly at you when you give him a flat look. 

“What is wrong with you?” You ask, glancing over your shoulder at him with amusement glittering across your face as you dig for your keys.

“Not a thing.” He grins, watching with adoration as you open the apartment door. Frankly, you’re surprised he didn’t attempt to juggle the bags and unlock the door himself.

He kicks the door shut behind him as you help slide the bags off of his wrists, piling them on the counter. “When do we need to leave?”

“Uh…” he glances at the wall clock, “Not till seven.” He places his hands nicely on your waist, looking down at your lips. “You wanna get something to eat before we go?”

You muse, “This is the one with those mini stakes, isn’t it?” He nods. “No, I wanna get my fill on those. Oh, and the bruschettas! I love these caterers.”

His eyes flicker back up to meet yours, a sly smile playing on his lips. 

You break away from his gaze and turn to the counter, preparing to scoop the shopping bags up when you’re interrupted by his relentless fervor.

“Ah, ah.” He hooks a finger into the loop of your jeans, tugging you back to him. “Give me a kiss.” 

“Dick.”

“Just one.” Yeah, right. You oblige him though, pushing up on your toes to meet his lips. His thumb strokes your cheek as he kisses you deeply. You break the kiss after a moment only for him to chase your lips to follow it up with another. And then another. And another. He hums against your lips, smiling wide. “Thank you, baby.”

You pull back again and smile as you stop his chest with your hand when he follows. “Ah, I’m not new around here. I know where this’ll go if I let you.”

He nods complaisantly, “Then let me.” His eyes are focused on the small space between you, where his touch lingers along your ring finger. You lean up again and place a kiss on his forehead that has him getting hopeful, only to be met with disappointment when you back away from him, bags in hand. He throws his head back with a groan just to really hammer home the severity of his dismay.  

It doesn’t last too long though because the second you’re back in the room he’s trailing after you like a puppy, following you down to the couch. You roll your eyes at him when he opts to sit ridiculously close to you, though there’s a ghost of a smile on your lips that makes your act lose all credibility.   

He nestles his face into the crook of your neck and is clearly very pleased when you wrap your arms around his shoulders. You exhale contentedly, resting your cheek against his head. You lie idle like that for a few minutes, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck and casting a daydreaming gaze out the window. And apparently, he was daydreaming too. 

“I wanna marry you.” He murmurs into your neck after a while. 

You laugh incredulously, “Have you been drinking when I have my back turned?”

“‘M serious.” He nudges you off him so he can look at you.

You hum, sweeping his hair back from his forehead. “You’re being very…” you scrunch up your mouth to the side, “…Ostentatious today.” 

He barks out a laugh, “Wow. Word-A-Day teach you that one?”

You shove at his forehead back with no real force, biting back a giggle. His eyes flicker back and forth between your mouth and the crinkle in your eyes as he grins. “I’m going to let that one go because you got me some really nice clothes today. As your repayment.” you say, running your finger over his lips. 

He takes your hand, pressing a firm kiss to it. “Let me marry you?” 

You sigh bashfully, “Dick—”

“Please?” He sticks his bottom lip out and gives you his puppy eyes, causing you to avert your gaze quickly. You’re not convinced he doesn’t have a superpower in that area.

You know he’s not really proposing right now, he’s too much of a romantic to do it like this. He’s just getting the idea in your head, getting you excited about it. It’s working.

“I’d be such a good husband to you.” He kisses your collarbone, “So good.” He murmurs against your skin, lips never departing. You struggle to keep your face neutral, making a point of closing your eyes in an attempt to increase your odds of success. He’s being nice though, you know. To let you play pretend right now when you know he could break your facade in a second if he really wanted to.  

“Mrs. Grayson…” he squeezes your hips, lips traveling further down. “Doesn’t that sound pretty?”

It really does. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about marrying him before. He’s nothing if not husband material and honestly you really really want to hear him call you his wife. Call him your husband.

Your hand moves to his hair, petting it softly as he goes on. “Buy you a nice ring. Pretty white dress ‘n a big party just for you.” He brushes your shirt up and trails open mouthed kisses down your stomach. Your chest feels warm and you can feel your pulse thrumming all throughout your body.

He slowly guides your underwear down your thighs, his lips following the hem close behind. “Come home to you every night, kiss these pretty thighs,” He scoops both of your hands up in one of his, pinning them to your stomach. “Kiss this pretty pussy.” He places a chaste kiss on your clit and looks up at you expectantly.

You’re not nearly as hesitant on this as you’re pretending to be, and you both know it. But he’s perfectly fine with begging a little while you pretend you’re not lightheaded at the idea of marrying him. “I’ll think about it…” 

He grins at you before going in on your core without mercy.

He’s trying real hard to land that promotion.

🩵 reblogging = supporting; likes don’t do the job

[acid-ixx]

ch.2: again &. again (platonic! yandere batfam x neglected! gn reader)

directory: preq, chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four

read until the end for an author's note.

*"XX/XX/XXXX, entry no. 13.

i hate everything. i hate my family. i hate my father, i hate my brothers, i hate my classmates, i hate alfred, i hate this place, i hate my mom, i hate everyone.

why can't i ever get what i wanted? what do i have to do? i tried so hard to be everything for them, but why do i only amount to nothing? it's been a year, or two, i don't know. it hurts trying to remember when was the last time i saw him. saw, not talk, because he never talks to me, bruce never even looks at me. and i hate myself for trying to get him to look at me.

is he disgusted at me? does he see my mother in me? does he hate me that much? i don't know, i don't want to know, it hurts to know. i don't know why i'm trying anymore, i don't know how longer i can last in this hell. i can feel it, the longer i stay here, the more i lose a part of myself. i don't want to be here.

i don't want to pray anymore.

so if there's any god out there watching over me, then i wish for you to burn, to suffer, to go through the same thing i have been experiencing for years— all for putting me in this place. i would've been fine living in the streets with my mother. i would've been alright providing for our small family, i would've known to never get my hopes high, but you took her away from me!—

i hate you."

"master (name), are you awake? dinner is ready."

you had to shut your diary at the sound of the knock and alfred's voice.

"alfr-"

a cough, hoarse and croaky, cuts you out from calling his name. it was accompanied by uncontrollable sniffles, mucus blocking your nose from breathing properly. your room was dark, save for the lamp that lights up your bedside, where you currently were seated on your bed to write another entry, grip on your pen unknowingly harsh. you didn't even have to look at your reflection from your phone laying beside the diary to know that hiding your tears were fruitless.

salty were the crystalline droplets that streaks your face, but bitter were the emotions that had your heart ache.

you hear a sigh from the other room. before he could muster a reply, you beat him to it.

"i'm not eating dinner, alfred," you hate hearing your voice, sounding so obviously scrathy from the hours of wailing. "at least not with them. i don't want to get out at all."

"then may i at least bring them over to you, master (name)?"

his answer was final, you have no choice on retaliating and starving yourself like you did for the past few days. but it wasn't your fault that you had forgotten your body's needs. it wasn't your fault that your mind blanks itself out on the dinner table. it wasn't your fault that bile quickly crawls up your throat at hearing their voices.

you simply lost your appetite seeing them happy without you.

alfred pennyworth would never play favorite.

it was drilled into his head ever since he had sworn to serve the wayne family and its extended members— he is to serve anyone and everyone, regardless if they respect him or they do not; as long as they do not pose any danger within the manor, then he is to attend to them.

you'd think that in his decades of service for the wayne's - with all the contrasting personalities he had to deal with - he would maintain professional standards and tell everybody in the world, "i, of course, do not favor anyone within the family, i live to serve and that is truth." when in fact, he wouldn't hesistate to admit that he does, in actuality, have a favorite.

and no, it wouldn't be the eldest child, dick grayson, as much as he is alfred's pride and joy, nor would it be the youngest, damian wayne, who had been slowly correcting his mistakes. it wouldn't even be the head of the house, master bruce.

it would be you, (name) wayne, the infamous, yet forgetten child of the wayne family.

it wouldn't be a far fetch for alfred to admit that you weren't like the others. in all of the years that he served the wayne's, you were a contrast of the family.

the first few hours that he had picked you up from the police department upon the news of bruce's secret child, he knew you were more than just a child raised by the brutal streets of gotham.

you pose secrets that speak of the underground.

he remembers your seated form on the stiff chair of the interrogation room, pose unnervingly straight, as if you had solidified yourself against the metal seat. your fingers were the only signs that showed life, twiddling with each other as if it's some form of distraction.

you stared at nothing.

not even at the police as your name was called for pick up.

it took merely a signature of confirmation to dictate the future years of your life.

what's left of your belongings were given to alfred. the police officer, a woman with a kind smile then had to walk across the interrogation table to pat your back, gesturing for you to stand up and follow her and alfred on the way outside of the station, where the car was parked.

you hadn't uttered a word nor snapped out of your dreamlike gaze. not even when you were greeted with a thousand clicks of the cameras, the buzzing crowd that drowns the police station, or the hundreds of voices that yell at you to look at them.

(name) (last name), now formally adopted by bruce wayne, would be (name) wayne. it wouldn't be a shock that your sudden appearance as the child of a scandalous relationship between a prostitute and a billionaire would cause immense reactions. news would be spreading left and right, most of which were negative on your side.

he had to shield you from the crowd of photographers and journalists itching their way to the crowd to get a glance on you.

yet you didn't display any discomfort. you had only sat on the car obediently, fastening your seatbelts robotically and ignoring the lenses that unsettlingly tried to poke through the car windows to take pictures of you.

you were more like batman than you were bruce.

alfred had tried to get you communicate with questions like, "how are you over there, master (name)?" yet you would only mumble unintelligible responses to his questions without any ounce of emotion. he had to look at the rear view mirror to take in your stiff form. again, your eyes were set on nothing, even if they were casted down on the carpeted floorboards of the car.

when he had first met bruce, that child was overflowing with anger and vengeance for his parent's killer, yet you, who refused to explain your mother's disappearance, are devoid of anything.

the silence was defeaning throughout the ride. the only comfort that was provided was the rain that began to patter against the glass windows.

alfred throught you would retain the same behavior the entire day.

yet it was only when you first walked up the steps of the manor did your demeanor change, fingers immediately reaching up to hold the cuffs of his sleeves, pulling it as if you were hesitant to step in.

the first emotion you had shown him was concern, like a switch had flickered you out of your trance. it was the first time in a while that alfred had to do a double take to check if what was happening was real.

"can you... hold my hand?" and it was the first time he had heard you speak, voice unnaturally scratchy from the lack of water. you stared at him with wide, doe eyes that refused to blink, waiting for answers. alfred had to gaze at your entire body to finally notice that you were covered head to toe in sloppy bandages with blood seeping through the grime-filled gauze. your shoes were worn, your clothes were ripped, and other uncovered scars littered your body.

the most conspicuous color on your shirt was crimson red.

yet you do not display pain.

a child, five years of age, had been through more than enough anguish to know how to block their pain out.

you were unlike the rest, truly, you were unwavering of the world's cruelty.

the world does not deserve someone like you.

alfred takes it in himself to always hold your hand after that.

through the mansion doors, inside the kitchen, on your way to school; whenever and wherever, as long as he had time.

even if it were filled with scars and bruises, dirt and grime, he will always hold your hand if it meant guiding you through the darkness of the manor.

you may not consider yourself bruce's child, but you will always be alfred's.

another knock on your door had you snapping out of your trance. time passed by so quickly in the manor. well, it does when you have nothing to do but stare at your diary, draw on your sketchbook or scroll through your phone. yet time would always be the quickest whenever you drown in your own misery.

"come in," you croak out, aware that it would only be alfred who would come by your room. it was long ago since you had given up on awaiting for dick's visits.

a turn of the knob, then the door swings quietly; the hinges creak, you need them oiled sooner. alfred walks in, you notice he holds a tray that contains two cupcakes and a plate of your favorite dish, but you don't notice the small box with a bow hidden skillfully from the back of the tray. from over your seat, you could already smell the aromatic herbs that flutter in the room and see the colorful frosting from both cupcakes; an already lit candle sticking in from one.

the candle at least provides just a split second of light inside your dim room; the moonlight just like your family, absent.

alfred graciously places the tray on your nightstand, on the left of your diary. your room was still too silent.

you could only hear yourself.

"master (name), are you simply going to sit there and stare? or would you rather i spoonfeed you like i had when you had broken your wrist?"

you blink it out again, oblivious to your very own hyperawareness. alfred's still here. you hope that, in the presence of darkness, he wouldn't see just how much of a mess you are. how your hands could barely grip onto anything, hair unwashed, face stained with tears, difficulty breathing through the buildup of mucus, foot tapping up and down erratically— you wished he would pretend to be blind about your suffering for just this once.

"no—" came your sudden reply, "i can- yeah, i can eat by myself."

it's harder to lie to yourself than it is to others.

he looks at you with doubt, it makes you shiver.

despite you wishing for company inside the manor, you could never be used to attention. it would never be normal for someone like you. though, you wish it was. you wish you never hesitated when someone gives you attention.

you hear your mattress creak, there's a dip on your bed. alfred sits beside you, only then did you realize just how quickly you lean into his side, craving for warmth in the solace of your empty room.

everything hurts, it truly does.

you wish you were strong enough to cease the sudden burst of tears when his one hand circles your shoulder and the other holds the cupcake with a candle near your face. and you wish that you weren't so weak in the presence of another, trying to find a semblance of your worth in their attention.

you at least try to stifle your sobs—

"happy birthday, master (name)."

— but you were always weak, yet alfred never seems to mind, patting your back to console you from your wailing.

you blow the fire out with a single promise to yourself, crying a bit more when alfred had given you a gift box, laced with a ribbon of your favorite color.

it was one of the few gifts you would cherish, fondness seeping into the cracks of your heart.

though it wouldn't erase the bitterness that fills your being either way, knowing your family is still downstairs, unaware of the anguish the torment that they have put you through— it's still enough to let you hate alfred a little less.

"alfred?"

it was your meek voice, one that was always drowned out by the sound of the dishes clanking.

"yes, master (name)?" yet alfred could always strain out the sound of anything just to hear your talk. after all, you were a silent kid throughout your childhood.

"—if i move out of this place; would promise you wouldn't forget about me?"

... (name) wayne was full of surpises.

even at the ripe age of seventeen, and in the near fourteen years of raising you, alfred could never predict your words nor your actions.

you had always said things spontaneously, carrying an aura of awkwardness in your tone, reminiscent of someone who had their personal growth (moreover their social life) stunted.

but now, with the way you had said your resolve so confidently, it felt like he was looking at a different version of you; all the more confident and resilient.

except... you were behind him when you had said that - so he wasn't really looking at you - eating the first batch of his cookies whilst he was polishing the dishes with a cloth.

when he had turned around to look at you, though, you were still the socially inept child he knows and love, sitting on the breakfast bar and twirling around the stool as you attempt to not get crumbs everywhere. you were still so young in his eyes.

it's just, the way you had looked at him expectedly like you needed his approval that shocked him. it was always your eyes that had expressed the most emotions, glazing with anticipation for his response.

he knows it when you lie, and right now, you were dead serious in your resolve.

alfred had to relax the crease on his brows before he ages faster than he already is.

"well, master (name)," he continues, turning back to wiping the dishes clean before he could fully face you. "i would fully support you in your... journey, but what warranted you to be suddenly motivated on moving out?"

alfred had finished setting aside the dishes, but he still doesn't look back.

"i mean, i thought i already told you? i have a scholarship for college but it's on the other side of gotham and...

— i kind of don't want to be chauffeured by a limo around the campus everyday, you know? so the next best thing is to get a dorm."

alfred knows it when you lie. and right now, your hesitance tells him everything he needs to know.

you may have proved a point, but that point was an entire lie. with a person name wayne flaunting across a city whilst riding a limousine, you might find yourself into more trouble than anything else.

but he had always been the one to pick you up and drop you off from elementary and halfway through your highschool life— and you never seemed to mind until now.

it doesn't take a genius to know that you had already deviced a full plan of moving out and taken it into action; all you had to do was confront the only man in the manor who had cared about you enough to raise you about your worries.

it wasn't enough to convince him to let you go, though, especially not right after an incident that had occured prior to you highschool life. if he allows you to gain independence in gotham, he wouldn't know how long you would last.

but when he looks back at you again, he couldn't bring it in himself to oppose to your whims. you need a new environment; one that provides you a way to gain independence and, most preferably, social skills. staying cooped up in a manor with barely anybody talking to you does more harm than good.

and being ignored by your own family for almost fourteen years wouldn't be a great way to celebrate your already nearing eighteenth birthday.

alfred doesn't want to admit it, but if he keeps you here any longer, you would never grow up. one person could only do so much.

he whips out a sigh, looking at you with resignation in his eyes. but you know it in yourself that he swears his life on the promise.

"master (name)," he walks over to you, eyes darting at the cookie crumbs that litter around your mouth making a note to scold you on your manner later. he sits directly in front of you, hand patting your head as you merely stare at him expectedly.

"i have raised you for almost fourteen years, it's like you are my very own child. i would never forget you." he takes your hands in his. "but you have to also promise me to stay safe out there, master (name). call me once you're there."

alfred would find a way to get you to come back eventually, even if it meant utilizing your family's neglect, which was primarily the reason why you had moved out on the first place.

he just hopes you wouldn't connect the dots and pin the blame on him once you're back and safe in the manor.

and now, it had only been months since you had gotten away from the manor. he was proud of your development, of your choice and overall, you, but he wouldn't lie and say he doesn't miss you.

he misses hearing your voice directly, the line on the phone being too blotchy to properly hear you. he misses it when he would sit on your bed as your only audience whilst he watches you paint on your canvases, drawling on and on about highschool's latest drama. he misses it when you would always be the first to taste his dishes, face lighting up whenever the food was seasoned up; now he has to constantly remind you to eat a nutritious diet, even offering to send you money whenever you mention you were short on it.

in the good of your heart, you would always decline, even going as far to deny him of any liberty to track you down and bring you a meal himself.

alfred misses you.

does he regret allowing you your freedom? not really, no. but he knows it in himself that a greedy part of him prefers it if you were would visit the manor occasionally during your vacations, at least to bond with him. but you simply chose not to, even going as far to legally change your name once you had become eighteen so you wouldn't be associated with your father's last name.

but that wouldn't erase the past you had tried to meticulously cover.

(name) wayne may have been a name forcefully deleted off of the face of the internet, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have its conspiracies of its own. nobody knows who you are beyond the blurry, unsolicited pictures of you. it may have been a photograph of your back, or articles published in unknown websites and buried at the far end about a kid leaving a police station and entering through the fancy gates of the wayne manor.

and most importantly, you are a product of a one-night-stand.

but they don't know who the mother is, don't know your age, or where you come from, and what business bruce has with the woman to guarantee your adoption at the instance she had disappeared without warning.

your existence was a mystery most would like to solve. after all, it was your picture that was plastered all over the newspapers and articles, it was your name that journalists whisper and it was a silhouette of your face that the underground knows by heart. every known information about you was shared discretely yet efficiently like some sort of virus.

you were a target for interest, a large sum of money if they will. and alfred had taken it in his hands to make sure there would never be a repeat of what had happened before.

it was a clumsy mistake, one that cost you your memories, and one he swears on his life he'll never make again.

the first course of action he needs to arrange, which may seem difficult for most; he needs to confront bruce.

after all, your freedom is your doom.

the wayne manor, in all its glory, could only be described as this palace overflowing his its abundant history and fame.

it was a castle that houses a boy who had lost his parents and became gotham's very own vigilante who stalks through the night to lessen the very evil that devours its citizens. it was the training grounds where the robins, sidekicks dressed in colorful attire, opposite to batman, were raised to be worthy enough to stand by the dark knight's side. but most importantly, it was a home for troubled children who were in their journey of their very own personal struggles.

yet even in its exterior splendour, it would always be innately overcome with loneliness.

for someone like bruce wayne, he embraces this desolation just as he embraces his alter-ego, batman, who wears a suit of black and dons an aura that demanded fear.

even if he carries the persona of 'brucie wayne' a ditsy, playboy who enjoys galas and sleeping with women every other night, he prefers solitude over the sea of interviewers who throng around him like he was a piece of meat.

it would be the only time he could focus on his countless of stacked paperworks to sign and his plans to ransack another criminal's master plan.

before winter could cover gotham in its sheet of pure, white coldness, rain would always terrorize the skies. he finds this the perfect atmosphere; dark grey clouds prevent the sun from peaking through, droplets of rain would pelt against the vast windows that surrounds his study, and there was enough background noise to block out any sounds that would pass through the door.

bruce wayne was focused on his work, and that meant disturbance wasn't allowed inside the manor. thankfully, it was a quiet, uneventful afternoon today.

in fact, it was all too abnormally quiet.

his scarred hands work through signing papers effiently and effortlessly, practiced fingers signing papers after he would meticulously scan over the paragraphs of texts that scale from business deals to partnerships to buying a piece of land. then later, once the moon rises, he would have to patrol with damian and disrupt another drug trade that had been recently dealing with children on the alleys of gotham.

that means he has to sign or reject at least half of the papers before evening falls through, so he could have alfred send them over through the post office tomorrow morning.

he was at least a quarter way through his work, though, when his flow was disrupted by a courteous knock by the mahogany doors.

he didn't have to look up or ask who it was, knowing it was alfred, his butler.

"master bruce, i have your tea ready, along with news to bare," bruce could hear the tone of urgency and a tinge of sullenness in alfred's voice. it was rare for alfred to be emotionally distressed, as he was typically the most composed out of everyone in the family.

"come on in, alfred," bruce's vocal chords were gruff, raspy whenever he's too engrossed in whatever he was doing.

but he was piqued at the news alfred was eager to share, the butler expertly turning the knob and entering with a tray that holds a hot serving of tea.

bruce stopped signing the papers, putting down his pen as he watches alfred, composed as always, place the tray down on his desk, not a single clank that was produced from the metal sheets. he watches as alfred reflexively pours him a cup of tea.

it was only after that action that the two share eye contact, alfred stationing himself to the right of bruce's desk.

if he wasn't a detective, he wouldn't have noticed the furrow of alfred's brows, which was uncharacteristic of the composed butler.

he reckons he should address the elephant in the room.

"what is it that you want to tell me, alfred?" bruce swivels his chair to face alfred, fingers tapping the mahogany desk rhythmically.

"master bruce, i figured you should have known this for quite a long time ago, but your third child had moved out on their own and now lives at the opposite side of gotham. right now, they may have been struggling to make ends meet."

huh?

"what do you mean, alfred? you're aware that tim is currently living in the manor—"

"no, master, i am talking about your third, not fourth child; master (name)."

... (name)?

ah, his... other child.

alfred looks at his seated form, expecting the befuddled reaction from bruce.

it doesn't take long for bruce to recover from his thoughts, eyebrows furrowed the same way as alfred as he leans against his chair.

"and what of (name)? why was i not updated about them?"

alfred had to stifle a groan as he then glares at bruce with what he could suppose was exasperation.

"i had already told you about their leave months ago, master bruce. you had simply waved me off whenever the topic is of master (name)." the butler's glare hardened, reminiscent of the times where bruce was scolded as a child. and like a child, he doesn't know what he had done wrong.

"i feel it is time for you to take it into your hands to deal with master (name)'s situation right now. i do not have access to their location and just like you, they are stubborn and refuse to accept any financial aid that comes to them in any form—"

to make matters worse, alfred had the gall to stop midway into his explanation, sighing and blinking unnervingly which catches more than bruce's attention.

"they would rather not admit it, but if they were to fail to pay for this month's rent of their apartment, they would get evicted from their very own living space."

at pretty much the last sentence, bruce's gaze hardened. not at alfred, no, but at the thought of you; his... forgotten child. if it was money that you need, why had you not ask for any allowance in the first place? bruce would admit that, well, it had been too long since he had last seen your face, nor even... remember it—

but you were still a child of his and he wouldn't deny you of an allowance if it meant persuing your... highschool or college dreams...?

shit, what grade are you in?

why didn't he know you moved out in the first place? wait—

"alfred, how long has it been since they had last moved out?"

"roughly six or seven months ago, master."

"ah, but having a place of your own as a minor would be prohibited by law."

"master bruce, they're eighteen. they're old enough to live in their own apartment."

eighteen years old...? how long had it been since he had last seen or heard of you? if what alfred had said was true, that the butler had attempted to reach out to him about you, then why had he not remember in the first place? you were a quiet kid, sure, but for someone like bruce, people would always not be overlooked.

it wasn't in him to easily forget, but he hates how he couldn't muster up a single memory of your face— not even your hair color nor your eyes. did you even... exist in his eyes? there was not a single memory of you that he could come up in his head.

his child was eighteen now, how could he not have known in the first place? how could he not recollect a single birthday of yours? or any celebration or gala that had you in it?

alfred's sigh snapped him out of his trance once more.

bruce looked up, seeing resignation upon alfred's face. he simply stood there, posture straight as always, but bruce couldn't wash away the shame that cages his heart when there was not a single image of you that pops up in his mind— alfred's disappointment merely worsened

the tea in his desk had long since gone untouched, but bruce couldn't bring it in himself to drink a single drop of it, even if his lips were dried and his throat was begging for even a single droplet of water.

he denies himself of any relief.

"i figure i should leave you in your own, master bruce, to at least compose yourself before nightfall. please do take your child into consideration, though, enough time has passed since you have last seen them." alfred states, as if it was a matter of fact. and it was, bruce should've known about your leave, as your father and as the man who took you in, he should've.

so before the butler could even take a step, bruce hastily stands up from his seat, pen long since discarded on his desk and a quarter of the papers are now messily stacked upon each other, but bruce pays them no mind.

"take me to (name)'s room right now, i need to see things for myself."

if bruce couldn't even remember a single instance of you, then maybe a trip to your room would be enough for him to remember.

but if that doesn't work then... bruce would a find a way, he always would.

and as your father, he needs to at least support you, even financial no matter your stubbornness? even if the shame he feels right now is so immensely disturbing, and the migraine is quickly finding its way into his head— he needs to know more about you, his actual third child.

bruce wayne needs to see your face just once.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: 5k+ words. no beta, we die like jason todd with a crowbar. my least favorite part of writing the chapter is literally starting it. i had at least 5 drafts all lined up and it took me an hour in the bed to think about how should i start it. i literally hope you guys enjoy the chapter hehe, and start to yk, notice the patterns and the parallels between your perspective and bruce's perspective bec ur literally his child, u guys share some habits even if u never once talked to him lmao. the most emotionally draining scene was writing the birthday scene, i had to take breaks from typing it out hehe. bruce's descent to yandere-ism isn't as quick as dick's but it would be worst in the next chapter.

also, i hope you guys are able to notice the bad habits that the reader eventually collects because it's important for the next chapters. it would be better if anyone of u could... point them out in my asks or comments, i love rambling about it yk, and a lot of you are absolutely brilliant in making theories that are absolutely right. anyways, i hope u enjoy this chapter because this was one hell of a ride for me and i appreciate all the reblogs and comments despite me not replying to a lot of yall but u guys truly are my motivation so thank u lots :(((<33!

taglist: @lilyalone, @secretomelettetroops, @earlqurl, @simpingfor-wakasa, @amber-content, @ruiroku, @okaybutfullhomo, @trasshy-artist, @obsessedwithromance, @jjsmeowthie, @fairy-lenaa, @maicenitas, @ilovvmyhusband, @6uuyuuhgy, @plsfckmedxddy, @lavender-moony, @sweetheart-era, @chemicalsandghosts, @darling006, @starringyau, @rosecentury, @jaythes1mp, @pi1nkl0ver, @i-thirsty-boi, @sharks-r-cool-l, @silverklaus, @samanthathanes, @traumaramacenter, @maddimoon, @anxrq, @thedarknesslord, @h0rr0r-10ver-69, @lazy-idate, @googeecat44, @simpingfor-wakasa, @zvghfgn, @0patito0 (if i had forgotten to put any of u in a taglist please forgive me, it's hard to keep track !!)

[ev-arrested]

I know it in my soul that whenever Damian has to play violin for school and needs an accompanist, he fucking drags Dick out of Blüdhaven and back to Gotham to play piano. Dick has not practiced piano since Aunt Harriet stopped bugging him to attend his lessons when he left the manor, and he doesn’t even like playing piano. But for Damian? Sigh F i n e, he’ll play the accompaniment.

He’ll drag out his dusty practice books to refresh himself on proper hand posture and what the fuck an F looks like on the staff. Yes, yes, he’ll look up whatever squiggly abomination is on his sheet music that music experts claim is “modern notation”.

Bruce, who knows how to play piano, or can otherwise contact professional piano accompanists, is like “son, please. leave your brother alone. he hasn’t even played in years.” And Damian’s like “NO. I will settle for nothing less than Grayson.”

“Son, that’s such a low bar.”

But Damian will have his way. He will perform with his brother, goddamnit.

[i-cant-sing]

Okay but I need yall to help me figure out the character(s) for the following scenario:

Imagine a romantic yandere falling for reader, and ofc reader isn't in love with yandere for obvious reasons like red flags. Maybe they did try dating, Yandere is a charmer, comes from a rich family, he's smart and hardworking and oh so head over heels in love with you. He's always taking you out on best dates, HAS to get you the largest fucking bouquets (excellent taste in flowers) and buys you expensive but well thought out gifts.

But for whatever reason, things dont work out and you break things off hastily and most likely over the phone before leaving the country. And yandere just- breaksdown. I mean my man does not have a good mental health as is, but you leaving, actually leaving him just breaks him down and he has a full blown panic attack.

I'm talking about yandere falling to his knees, clutching his chest and gasping for air, tears streaming down his face as he screams your name like a mad man. His family, they love him, they adore their son/brother/grandchild sm, it pains them to see him in such a miserable state. Yandere man is so delirious that he has to be sedated, tranquillised by medical professionals because he's just losing his fucking mind, babbling your name over and over again like a mad man. His condition only worsens as time passes, and so his family decides to take drastic measures because they can't see their beloved son/brother/grandkid so fucking dead and depressed and a shell of a once bright man. They love him so much, they only want ti see him happy, so they use their money and influence to track you down and try to convince you to return and take yandere back. When you refuse, they take the high way and force you to come with them, dragging you kicking and screaming to their private jet and fly all the way home, where yandere is.

You're in a dishevelled state, tears running down your cheeks as you struggle to free yourself from their grasps as they take you to yandere. And when yandere sees you... for the first time in months, his family sees the light return in his eyes as the yandere reaches out for you, scared that you're just his mind playing tricks. When he finally touches you, he is immeadiately pulling you into a hug, arms tightening around your body like a gilded cage as he cries into your shoulder and thanks his family for bringing you back. His family only smiles with tears in their eyes as they lock the door behind them when they leave, so that you don't go running away. Meanwhile, yandere has pulled you into his lap and he's looking at you with such sad eyes, staring at each feature of yours over and over again as if to memorise it all again. He can't help the tears that continue to slip out of his eyes, maybe he's crying that you're finally here, or maybe he's crying for all the time that's been lost when you weren't here. You fall asleep soon due to exhaustion, but yandere doesn't sleep a wink that night because he continues to stare at you and play with your hair very gently, finally closing his eyes when morning comes and he wraps his arms around you and traps your legs with his.

By now, you guys realise that the yandere's family is not only yandere for their son/brother/grandson but also for you. They are yandede for you too, but they're not allowing you to leave them or their son or even make him unhappy ever again. Some members are willing to let all you "tantrums" slide, while others are not so kind. BUT one thing is for sure, you're ALWAYS safe with yandere s/o, no matter what.

Now, for the characters I've had in kind for this scenario are:

Halim Mehmet Shah and the Shah Family (my ocs)

Dabi/Shotou and Todoroki clan (I am the OG creator of Yandere Todoroki Clan)

I wanna say Naoya or Toji but the Zenin clan hates them both....

Dick Grayson/Jason Todd and Batfam

What do you guys think?

Mood board for this scenario^^^(I love Pinterest)

[anonymous-existences]

DCxDP Prompt 10 :

Death Defying Ship. Danny and Dick are childhood friends where the Fenton's would often bring Danny and Jazz to the circus to hang out with their old friends the Graysons, where Danny and Dick are very close and do dumb kid stuff but jazz is there to watch them so they won't get into too much trouble when the parents aren't looking.

In there Danny learns from the Graysons some basic Gymnastics and Dances that require two people and all that brings them all closer.

Dick and Danny lost touch after the tragic incident with the Graysons, Many years later the story progresses as usual. Danny moves to Gotham to pursue his pursuit in getting a Professional Engineering Recommendation to W.E. with a Bonus Dani that appears every so Often and Dan a normal Mechanic that's acting as his older brother.

Sam Manson happens to be once again forced to attend a gala but this Wayne Gala was Unique because of it's setting as a Masquerade Ball. Sam is thrilled as she can add spice to her gothic aesthetic clothing with a more gothic mask, Danny is being dragged along as because of BFF code, (if I get to suffer, you suffer too.) thus Danny is also wearing an almost as gothic clothing that matches Sam.

Dick and Danny meet there but ofcourse they don't recognize each other, a specific song plays and Dick ever so playful tries to dance a specific routine that only He and Danny knows as they both made it as kids with the help of Jazz. Dick is surprised that Danny is keeping up, Danny is ecstatic and pacing faster as both are in full rhythm and sync in movements.

They don't even realize it but they've become the center of attention as they danced right in the middle of the ballroom. The song comes to a halt and Danny and Dick are breathing heavily, both smiling in excitement until Sam grabs Danny in a headlock and drags him away, scolding him for ditching her for another man.

Dick tries to stop them but was immediately blocked by many who wanted to converse or get his attention as he loses sight of Danny in the crowd of people.

Danny and Dick only ever meet in a gala but something keeps pulling them away from each other, both unable to get each other's names, Dick is totally mesmerized by Danny just as much as Danny is too. Sam finally tells him at some point that he's Dick Grayson. Danny's memories of their past flooding in but Danny didn't want to tell Dick about that because what if dick doesn't remember? What if he asked Dick and he didn't remember him? So Danny kept quiet until he can finally give Dick his name but that moment never came.

Danny is forced to go back to Amity because of the GIW and their Plan to once again destroy the Ghost Zone and Declare War, Danny is captured by the GIW and Sam in desperation with Tucker finally found a way to bypass the GIW firewalls and Break through to connect to the JL.

In the process of saving the captures ghosts with the help of the Justice League in infiltrating and dismantling the Anti Ecto Laws for going against the Meta Protection Rights. Dick doesn't recognize Danny as Phantom, they save him and all that process through Frostbite's help.

Jazz immediately recognizes Dick even as Nightwing and calls him 'Robin' and Dick immediately recognizes her because she is the big sister he always had and wished he kept. Jazz doesn't blow his Identity as expected but she does tell him about Danny as Phantom and Dick as A Wayne once again is processing all of those information in the Manor, Jazz had reassured them that Danny would visit at some point once he is fully healed and Dick waits everyday, waiting for Danny to call or text him that he'll visit.

Dick realizes he's fallen deep in love with Danny with his desperation and also everytime they've met and interacted with each other even for brief moments in the galas they've attended. Danny become the sole reason he'll force himself to attend a gala as he wanted to see the man, his best friend and his first love.

Danny eventually visits Dick and from then you can tell the story goes that way, it's sweet fluff with angst and Dick and Danny gets their happy ending.

[robintherobiner]

What would the Wayne Family and the Bat Family post tiktok

Bruce: videos of him buying new outfits with the material girl sound over it because, according to one post, 'his kids said it was funny and he liked seeing them smile'. on his official account though (the wayne enterprises one) his 'social media manager' posts clips from interviews and soundbites.

Batman: does not have a tiktok.

Dick: posts videos of him either doing gymnastics or of him hanging out with his siblings. Most of the time he is throwing up a peace sign and then Tim and Damian are wrestling in the background and he captions it something along the lines of 'brothers drawing blood in Blud!'

Nightwing: posts videos of short self defense tips/poses, regularly collabs with Red Hood. (not that Jason knows this, Dick just sets up a camera and then goes and bothers his brother until he tries to punch him so he can teach people to block)

Barbara: Posts videos talking about accessibility (both whats available and what should be put in place). if one of the wayne's annoy her, she also will post a compilation of them doing something silly like tripping over thin air or being caught using a hairbrush as a microphone)

Oracle: posts clips of people doing non violent crimes (faces blurred out ofc) with the caption "the eye in the sky sees you, dumbass." because why would you try ack a car on a street with three non-hidden cameras

Jason: doesn't post. anymore. does have an account from when he was a teenager where it's just him doing sped up acting videos to sounds. he has tried to log in to take it down but Bruce changed the password. Brucie regularly comments on different videos like "my baby was such a star... rip sweetie 🕊️🕊️🕊️" and its Jason lip-syncing to fucking Justin Bieber or something

Red Hood: posts videos shitting on Batman. the comments were full of people saying "daddy issues" or "i wanna be a dealer just so you can shoot me babygirl" so he turned them off. sometimes someone (tim) turns them back on and Jason gets bombarded with "BRO IS SERVING CUNT"

Cassandra: posts videos of her doing ballet, or of her showing off her strength. Not on purpose though, she thinks its fun to post videos of her teasing her brothers and the comments are like "WHY DID SHE JUST PICK UP DICK GRAYSON WITHOUT EVEN BREAKING A SWEAT WHAT"

Orphan: has a shared account with Batgirl, but she doesn't post on it, just sort of stands in the background as Steph makes funny videos.

Stephanie: enjoys posting videos pretending to be dating both Tim and Cass because she thinks its funny when the internet call her a gold digger and cheater. Bernard (after going public with Tim) occasionally fuels the fire by commenting "lmao get ur bag girl" under a video of her dragging Tim to a resturant

Batgirl: posts videos of her making fun of rogues, and on her shared account with Cass, just joins in on trends but obviously mixing it to fit her (aka: "when Batman lectures you for breaking a criminals leg but your literally just a teenage girl")

Timothy: like Bruce, he has two accounts. One is professional, with him promoting Wayne Enterprises products or whatever. Second one is full of him doing wild shit like skateboarding down the manor stairs or him trying to confuse Bruce with cringey slang. his most popular video though, is of him using the Nepo Baby sound by Fox SZN

Red Robin: posts slideshows of pictures of Gotham. All very aesthetic ones, of good architecture and people laughing together and shit. His bio is "showing you guy why I do what I do." His account is very artsy fartsy but he also was the first batfamily member to get verified

Duke: doesn't post, just likes videos.

Signal: posts videos of him trying to scare the other vigilantes, cuz, yknow, he can go invisible. tell me you wouldn't do that either if you could be invisible. exactly, you can't. He also makes videos about how hard it is to be a teen vigilante.

Damian: videos of his pets doing tricks. also regularly stitches Tim's videos and just deadass insults him. Tim always comments on his stitches with just a singular emoji because he found out it pisses Damian off more when he doesn't have a big reaction

Robin: posts about resources for gothamites. also has a shared account with Superboy (Jon) where they try and sneak up on both Superman and Batman. They have yet to succeed on either one.

[eiralunaire]

Dick was sitting on the couch in the common room at Wayne Manor, checking out a coffee he'd ordered for delivery, when Damian walked in with his typical serious expression. Grayson looked up with a sly grin; his younger brother was about to receive news that would make him explode.

“Damian, little bro, I need you to block your schedule for tomorrow night,” Dick said, his tone casual, as he stirred his coffee.

“Why?” Damian asked, frowning.

“I got you a date.”

Damian stopped in his tracks abruptly, his green eyes glaring at Dick.

“A what?”

“A date. With Reader,” Dick replied, matter-of-factly, as if he'd just said the weather was nice.

Damian's silence was deafening. His jaw tensed as he processed the information, but his discomfort was evident.

“I don’t need you to butt into my personal life, Grayson.”

“Of course you do.” Dick stood up from the couch and crossed his arms, staring at him. “You’ve been obsessing over this girl for years, following her, investigating her, and you haven’t done anything about it. Nothing! For God’s sake, Damian, you’re twenty-five, not sixteen.”

“My reasons for investigating Reader are professional,” Damian replied, his voice firm.

“Professional?” Dick let out a laugh. “Since when is looking at pictures of her in lingerie ‘professional’? Because from what I saw in your room, it looks more like a… very detailed study.”

The color rose to Damian’s face.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, yes I do. And I’ll spare you the embarrassment of having to explain yourself further. Reader has agreed to meet with you tomorrow, and I hope you’ll be honest with your feelings this time.” Or at least take the opportunity to clear everything up.

Damian spent the rest of the day in a state of controlled irritation. Though he hated to admit it, a part of him was curious about what Reader had to say. However, the thought that his older brother had arranged all of this was deeply humiliating.

“Grayson is an idiot…” he muttered as he looked through his wardrobe. He didn’t want to look too formal or too casual. In the end, he opted for a fitted black shirt and dark trousers. Something simple but elegant.

Before he left, he looked at himself in the mirror one last time, adjusting his watch.

“It’s just a conversation. Nothing more.”

The date took place at a discreet, elegant restaurant that Dick had booked. Reader arrived first, wearing a cream-colored skirt and jacket set that made her look sophisticated and professional. Her hair was pulled back in a low bun, with loose strands framing her face.

When Damian walked in, he saw her sitting at a table near the window. She was looking at her phone indifferently, but when she looked up and saw him, her expression remained neutral.

“You’re on time. That’s good,” Reader said, as he sat down across from her.

“I’m not in the habit of keeping people waiting,” Damian replied, his tone dry.

She took a sip of her wine before speaking, her gaze fixed on him.

“I know we’re both in our twenties, Damian, and we’re adults. So I’m going to be direct with you.”

Damian frowned, taken aback by the bluntness of her tone.

“Your brother Grayson told me that you’ve been researching me for years. That my photos from when I was a model “inspire” you. And that leads me to wonder: why so much interest in me?”

Damian kept his composure, though the discomfort was palpable.

“My interest has nothing to do with those photos.” My interest lies in who you are and what you do.

Reader watched him for a moment, as if evaluating his answer.

“Fine. Then I propose this: if it’s true that you have no romantic interest in me, let’s have sex and you’ll end your obsession with following me.”

Damian stood completely still, his eyes wide with surprise.

“What?”

“Yes, sex,” she repeated, matter-of-factly. “It’s a fair exchange. Or… if you want to court me, I won’t object. But if not, this is the most efficient.”

The tension in the air was unbearable. Damian didn’t know whether to feel insulted, impressed, or completely baffled.

“Is this some kind of joke?” he finally managed to say.

“No, Damian. It’s a practical solution.” Reader leaned back in his chair, his gaze direct. But, if you're not interested in either option, we can pretend this conversation never happened.

Damian rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to regain control of the situation.

"I'm not interested in something as superficial as meaningless sex."

Reader arched an eyebrow, slightly surprised by her response.

“So, you want to court me?”

Damian held her gaze, finally finding some balance in his stance.

“I want to get to know you. But not on such trivial terms as you propose.”

She stared at him for a long moment before cracking a slight smile.

“Well, Damian Wayne. You surprised me. I didn’t think you would say that.”

The conversation took a more relaxed turn after that, with both of them exploring the meaning behind their actions and the circumstances that had led them here. Dick, meanwhile, watched from afar, proud that he had created the opportunity they both so desperately needed.

[simpingforheros]

Gifted With Love~

Pairing: Jason Todd X Female! Reader

Summary: When a close friend of the Titans turns 21 years old, Dick decides to leave a special present for her.

Warnings: CROPPED TOP JASON wrapped with a bow~💕, Smutty implications, technically kidnapping, bondage, and awkward love confessions.

Author’s Note: Hello, it’s me. I have a pile of toxic Jason fanfics until @jjenthusee blessed me by tagging me in this work of art, so I had to write about it. I didn’t write smut this time because I didn’t know how they would feel about it but let me know if this is good.

++++++++++++++++++++++

Everyone has their own definition of a perfect birthday.

For some it’s traveling off to exciting vacations to tropical getaways, or spoiling themselves with luxurious dinners with loved ones. Others may even throw a larger than life birthday bash.

Those would be what Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson’s definition of a perfect birthday event instead of the horrifying words his beloved friend just spoke to him.

“I don’t really need anything.” The woman says nonchalantly as she finishes filing her field mission report. Her eyes to focused on the monitors to notice Dick frowning.

This weekend was (Y/N)’s birthday, and for the 7th year in a row, the young hero tells him the same thing she always asked for her birthday, Nothing.

“Not even a small get-together with us?” Dick whines as he tries to lean against her desk to get her attention. “It’s not everyday someone turns 21 years old. I’ll even buy you your first legal drink!”

Her chuckles fills the awkwardness in her body as she shakes her head. “Nah, I rather be spend the night alone with Frank.”

Dick practically couldn’t hold his head up after the massive eye roll he gave her at the mention of the stupid cat. He still hadn’t forgiven it for scratching up his favorite costume.

“There has to be something that’ll get you to change your mind…” As his incessant whining gets interrupted by a pinging on her computer.

*Transmission From Red Hood incoming*

A fluttering look of softness passed through her eyes before she accepts the transmission eagerly.

“Titan’s Tower to Red Hood, do you copy?” Her voice professional as she was still clicking on the keyboard.

“Hey, Princess,” Jason purrs out causally causing a small smile to appear on her face. “I got some leads on that case you were looking into. Apparently some of the goons on Black Mask’s gang used to know where some Brother Blood bases are. I’m sending you the details right now along with our wedding planning info.”

(Y/N) rolls her eyes at his joke at the end, but giggles as the familiar warm feeling floods her face. “Okay, Big Guy, I’ll take a look and send you flower arrangements.” She jokes.

Jason’s chuckle causes her smile to widen as they end their call. The reality of her surroundings kick in as her eyes meet Dick’s all knowing smirk, much to her misery.

(Y/N) joined the Teen Titans when she was 14 and fresh out of the hell that created her origin story. She took some time to get comfortable with everyone, but her favorite people have always been Dick and Jason. Her and Dick had a strong sibling bond while her and Jason just had a strong friendship. That may have formed into an unrequited, unlabeled flirtatious situation ship that the pair have been dancing around since Jason returned as the Red Hood.

“I-!” Before Dick could begin with his interrogation, the hero jumps from her seat as she mumbles.

“Well, I better go investigate these leads before the trail gets cold. See ya, Nightwing!” She chirps as she flees from him.

A wicked smirk appears on his face as he realizes what would make this birthday perfect.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

(Y/N) sighs as she finishes walking up her fifth flight of stairs with her arms filled with her birthday takeout.

Her civilian job practically wore her down mentally and physically this week with impending deadlines and mounting additions to her workload. Her Hero life has been surprisingly quiet other than the occasional teasing remark from Dick whenever Jason was brought up in conversation. Thank God Jason wasn’t a Titan.

As she unlocks the door after maneuvering for a moment, she coos out for her beloved elderly cat with a

“Frankie~, mama’s home with our favorite take out.” She says as she places the stuff on the counter. Her eyebrows frown together once she sees that all the lights in her home were on despite her remembering to turning them off.

“Frank?” She calls out to her cat as she realizes he has trotted into the room with a cry. She walks around the counter as she finally looks to the floor to find….a ribbon??

A soft baby pink ribbon was placed on the floor of her apartment. Her eyes followed one direction towards her dining table to see an extravagant display on the table. A heart shaped birthday cake stood proudly with a bunch of little gift bags. The offending ribbon stood out proudly on top of a bottle of whiskey that she suspiciously knows is Jason’s favorite.

“Did Jason do this?” She asked herself as she picks up the bottle. A glittery pink care taped to the front causes immediate doubt to her mind as she opens the card.

HAPPY 21st BIRTHDAY, (Y/N)

FOLLOW THE RIBBON AND FIND YOUR GIFT WRAPPED WITH LOVE FROM ME!

YOUR FAVORITE TITAN

-DICKIE :)

p.s. I took Frank to my apartment so you can enjoy your ‘gift’ <3 ;)

“So that’s where my cat is…” She says with a giggle. As much as she hated that Dick broke in to do all this, she was honestly expecting something worst. At least she can recognize that some of the gifts were from other titans and friends. She quickly sees a familiar brown wrapping paper with a flower pressed into the fold of it.

A bright smile presses into her face as she picks up the gift knowing it was probably a book that Jason picked out for her.

The other gifts can wait a little bit.

Picking up the whiskey and her book, she begins to walk to her bedroom where she notices that the ribbon leads to her destination. Her exhausted sigh fills the air as she begins to wonder what mess Dick left in her sanctuary.

Glitter bomb? Nah she hates that she already had to clean up the glitter he already left. A huge ass bear? Nope, she’s too old for that, but doesn’t put it past him to do that.

As she got closer to the door, a creak can be heard along with a sound of a struggle. Her eye brow quirks as she opens the door not expecting what she finds.

There in the middle of her bedroom was Jason. Tied to a chair with rope and pink ribbons. In his Red Hood costume or what was supposed to be. The glaring difference was the now cropped combat shirt and his cargo pants unzipped with a red ribbon acting as the belt holding his pants together. His holsters were empty and fastened tightly to emphasize the bulging muscles of his thighs. There was three more bows on him that almost made her fragile state break.

One red ribbon wrapped around each bicep, practically struggling against his flexing muscles. And the other was a thick pink ribbon that was loosely tied around his neck and led directly to the ribbon that brought her here.

Her moment of shock finally breaks when Jason whistles at her to get her attention.

“Princess, I need some help here.” He groans as he struggles against his binds. Her body immediately goes into motion as she sets the bottle and gifts to the ground to help him.

“Jay, what happened?” She asks as she helps him out of the chair after undoing the rope. Her eyes almost bulged out of her skull when the fabric of his cargo pants falls a little to tease the tempting V shaped Adonis belt hidden only by the will of the ribbon.

“Dick invited me over to discuss an idea for a birthday party and then Him and Roy ganged up on me and I ended up here.” He explains vaguely as he stretches his sore muscles.

The movement and winding of his muscles under the the altered costume made warmth fill her chest. His combat shirt was now cropped just below his pectoral muscles, showing off his abs. The ribbon on his left arm pops as he stretches his arm back which causes her to come back to earth again.

“I-I’m so sorry.” (Y/N) apologizes as she sits on the bed to sooth her beating heart. “Dick has been bothering me about what I wanted for my birthday and he wouldn’t take no for an answer…”

“So why did he think I would be a good present?” He says as he removes his mask and shows her the smirk on his face.

Shock filled her face as she looks up at him. His broad shoulders filled her vision as he now stands between her legs. The smell of his cologne filled her senses as he reaches over the bed to grab the wrapped present from where it laid. He places it in her hands as his other hand moves to push the hair out of her face.

With a soft peck on her forehead, he whispers,

“Happy Birthday. Time to open your present.”

Her trembling hands moved to open the present as he steps back to give her room, the whiskey bottle now in his hand. As the paper falls to the floor, her eyes soften as she sees what he given her.

A well worn copy of a Jane Austen book. His favorite book. The pages had color coded tabs that she can recall him placing them during their many missions or hangouts.

The table of contents in the front of the book made her heart skip a beat as Jason watches her through the lip of the bottle.

Yellow tabs - moments that remind me of her

Blue tabs - the same feelings I have while looking at her.

Purple tabs - Funny things I think she would like

Green tabs - moments I wanna recreate with her

Pink tabs- How I feel about (Y/N)

Her hands move to open the book to the one singular pink tab she can see through the sea of colored tabs. Her tears filled her vision as she reads the words colored in pink highlighter.

“In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

“Oh Jay…” She mutters as she looks up at him with a softened gaze, the hints of desire flickering in her eyes as she watches him return it.

“I would have given you a gift card, but i figured that would be too much.” Jason jokes as he finishes a shot of burning whiskey. A tug around his neck brings his eyes down the offending ribboned leash to her foot.

The tangled appendage tugs him to her. He follows her to her arms as she coils him into her embrace as she presses a kiss to his lips. The burning of the whiskey subsiding to sweetness of her lips before she pulls away just a breath from his own.

“I think it was perfect.” She whispers. “But…”

Jason gasps as she gently runs her finger tips down his exposed abdomen and down to the red ribbon holding his pants together. He clicked his tongue to his teeth as he asked,

“Aren’t you suppose to blow out your candle before you open presents?” He teases as his hand cups her face while the other grips her hip. Her smirk almost causes him to moan as the feeling of silk rubbing against his skin distracts him from the feeling of the heavy cargo pants felling slacked against his hips.

“I thought it was my birthday, Jason…” she teases back as she pulls him to her by his jacket. “And I wanna unwrap all my presents…”

+++++++++++++++++++

“YOU LITTLE BASTARD!” Dick curses as he tries to get his domino mask away from the tabby. The trained vigilante was no match to Frank as he dives under the heavy oak bed.

Dick tries to reach under the bed to catch the culprit who destroyed another one of his suits as his phone pings. To his annoyance, he calls over his shoulder.

“Kori! Can you help me get this stupid cat? And see who texted me?

“Coming!” The alien princess sings as she smiles at the message on her before it doubles as she see the message on Dick’s phone as well.

To: Dick

From: (Y/N) the Terror >:D

Thx for my birthday gifts. Do you mind keeping Frank until tomorrow? I got some plans today and I would appreciate it. Thank you!!

To: Kori

From: Red

Plan worked! Me and her are going on a late birthday date after last night. Thanks for making Dick think it was his idea.

++++++++++++++++++++

I hope you guys liked it and let me know if I should make a smut version of this one. Thanks again to @jjenthusee for the inspiration and I hope you enjoyed it.

+++++++++++++++++++++

@simpingforheros Fanfic. I DO NOT WISH FOR ANY OF MY WORKS TO BE COPIED, STOLEN, OR REPOSTED ON OTHER ACCOUNTS OR WEBSITES WITHOUT CREDIT OR PERMISSION

[mtcloudsworld]

𝑵𝑶𝑻 𝑺𝑶 𝑯𝑼𝑺𝑯 𝑯𝑼𝑺𝑯

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 | black!fem reader intended BUT could be anybody, vigilante!reader, stake out kind of mission, boyfriend!Jason Todd, suspicious!dick grayson, edited but if you see any errors please ignore, ty!!

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 | He told you. He actually told you. I can't believe it...

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 | drabble for the brain. Enjoy lovebugs!! :)

𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐒𝐎𝐍, didn't think he had it in him. He didn't think it was gonna work out. Not that he didn't ever have faith in his little brother, he just figured since 𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐃 was more reserved with his feelings, admitting them to a love interest seemed ideal. But it worked out perfectly and that's what's mind blowing. And just like any other older brother out there who wants there siblings to achieve every and anything, he was proud to know he successfully passed this test. But what he wasn't happy about was that he found out a month later???? ON ACCIDENT??? He was just strolling through the manor when he heard giggling coming from the kitchen. Seeing you seated on the stool, across from the isle was Jason preparing dinner. The manor was supposed to be empty tonight since everyone was doing their own thing, Dick was supposed to be with Barbara but had to drop off something for Bruce before heading her way. There was a bunch of chatter on whether you two should tell the others or not. Should this be hush hush? Jason wasn't too keen on people meddling in his business and you didn't mind whatever decision he made. You were willing to keep it under wraps until...whenever, until he was ready. Alfred had already known, Bruce had his suspicions about it but didn't have the heart to ask. He knew how reserved Jason was. He figured whenever Jason was ready to tell him, he was all ears. Dick on the other hand? Not so much─ Did I mention Alfred was there too? He's the one who helped Jason set all this up, but you obviously didn't need to know that, and now Dick was trying to figure out how in the hell he was going to bring this up.

Frequent eye contact. subtle, hidden touches here and there, always so close─ hip to hip. He noticed every little thing, and as much as it swelled his heart to see his brother try to be affectionate for your sake, he was a detective at heart and he had eyes everywhere.

No doubt you two keep it professional but the way you and Jason have been acting lately, isn't the usual behavior he's used to. Missions have been more intense, on the edge, there's more caution and frequent check-ins between you two.

The constant eye contact is what keeps him on edge, and when you think no one is watching a quick brush along the fingers when passing by each other or holding each other's hands till your fingers slide past seemed a little too romantic in his opinion.

But it told him everything.

It let him know something...

"You told her, didn't you?"

He asked in the middle of patrolling.

Currently placed between two gargoyles, they scaled over the streets in search of something major in solving this case.

With his arms crossed, Nightwing was leaned up against the triangular shape roof with his eyes nowhere near his target but on Red hood, who happens to be leaning over the ledge in support of his foot with his forearms rested over his knee.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, his voice modulated a little bit more deeper than usual.

His eyes focused on a particular street. Two u-haul trucks full of cargo brought into an abandoned warehouse by a bunch of goons dressed in all black suits and masks.

The obvious, Black Mask associated.

"You told her you liked her," Nightwing states, trying to clear up the confusion, "didn't you?" He pushes himself off the roof to come a little closer.

"What makes you think that, detective?"

"Because, you two have been acting all lovey dovey lately. I even overheard you two talking with Alfred about last Friday night, date night to be exact? You even made Alfred's most famous chicken Alfredo and garlic bread knots?"

Through Jason's mask, Dick could feel his eyes piercing through his thick skull. Might even be throwing daggers, but either way it was clear he was not happy with him eavesdropping on their conversation, nosey ass. "You think I don't notice, Todd, but I do. I've been watching, I've been paying very close attention to you two."

"Tch," Jason scoffs with a shake of his head, pushing himself off the ledge with his foot now rested on the roof, "so what if I did? What's in it for you? It's not like it's any of your business, Grayson." He renders, crossing his arms to make himself look a little bit more intimidating.

"Because I felt my ears burning like crazy last week, Jaybird," Nightwing claims motioning towards his ears, "and they were hot as hell! You guys were talking about me, huh?" Jason's eyes roll with a heavy, annoyed sigh and Dick put his hands on his hips with a tilt of his head as he gleams, "Let me guess, the doll mentioned how I knew you possibly, maybe, might have a crush on her and vice versa?"

Sigh, "not everything is about you, boy wonder." He moves to the other side of Dick for a closer look at the street.

"Stop projecting and just spit it out already!" He whines in deep agony.

"Hey, a little less chit chatting and a little bit more eye searching, okay? I just saw two more trucks pull up on your 6." You suggest through the coms.

While Dick was thinking upon his next words, Jason took it upon himself to get a closer look. Now in between the dark and wet alley, his steps were silent as he knelt behind the brick wall watching as the men store the boxes inside.

He heard a grappling hook click and then a splash of a landing from a distance, till they came a little bit closer. Luckily the two weren't that close to the warehouse for the goons to hear them.

Silence.

"..."

"Y'all are dating, aren't you?" He presses one more and Jason groans, "Oh for Christ sake, Nightwing, let it go!"

"No, Red, I will not let it go! Just admit it. It'll make my life so much better if you'll just say it."

"What? So you can lavish on the idea that you possibly had something to do with us being together?" He then scoffs bitterly, "Yeah, no, not happening."

Out of habit, you found yourself butting into the conversation and vocalize, "twelve o'clock, babe."

Before Jason could respond the way he wanted to, it took him a second to realize what you just said. A second for him to whip around with wide eyes, hearing a sudden 'oop!' through the coms and a curse underneath their breath.

It dawns on everybody the obvious.

The answer to everybody's question.

And with haste, Dick's jaw drops and immediately his whole body turns to see Jason frozen in place.

"bAbE?!"

Jason's eyes widen as he stands up and expresses, "Doll!"

You make a 'yikes' look cringing a little to the sound of Jason's panicked yet annoyed voice.

"Oop, sorry..."

Feeling a tad bit bad, you were honestly stiffling a laugh at your little slip up.

Though you couldn't physically see him, you were positive his face was flushed right about now and was shaking his head in slight embarrassment as Dick was going off on a little tangent.

Tim, alongside you, could only smirk and chuckle, declaring, "Oh yeah, y'all are most definitely together," before jumping off the roof into the dark alleyway with you following in pursuit.

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆��𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃

𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 ©𝐦𝐭𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

[confused-wanderer]

After several posts and headcanons and theories, I have come to a conclusion: Dick and Jason have a more or less similar relationship to Steve and Bucky. Think about it.

The “Golden boy” and “sweetheart” who is constantly praised and looked upto, yet only the other one truly knows how feral the other is cuz they knew them long before shit hit the fan and they KNOW that chaotic gremlin hasn’t gone- it’s just been better at not getting caught.

IMAGINE:

Jason coming back from the dead just to hear everyone talking about Dick as if he’s a God, and stopping himself from dragging his brother down there cuz only ONE of them has put people in hospitals, left every criminal with PTSD and Jason aint it. Sure, he’s making up for it but Dicks got a fucking head start.

Jason being the only one who can see right thru Dicks bullshit and is full aware of chaotic-feral-no-self-preservation-don’t-believe-me-then-WATCH Dick fucking Grayson. It’s why during operations he loves pairing up with Dick cuz the guy has sheer unconventionality and Jason is HERE for it.

Some new hero: Oh my god Nightwing’s so calm and always knows what he’s doing!

Jason *flashbacks to last night when Dick tried to cook pasta and ended up blasting his bathtub and frantically calling Jason over while the pasta kept exploding in the background and he didn’t want to piss off Alfred*

Justice league: Nightwing always knows the right things to do, and knows how to act in every situation.

Jason *thanking god his mask was on so no one could see him dying cuz before he died Dick had literally stolen the Batmobile and allowed Jason to joyride; was also the same person who taught Jason how to hit clean cuts and decimate any opponent by any, and I mean ANY means necessary*

New teen titans: Gah Nightwing is so professional!!

Jason *remembers when Dick yelled “want some GROUND for your coffee DIRTBAG?!” Before throwing sand in their faces and absolutely demolishing them by fighting dirtier than Jason had seen anyone*

And Dicks grateful cuz Jason’s the person all his guard crumbles in front of. One who knows what he’s thinking, knows the real him. Someone he doesn’t have to pretend in front of, and would help him no matter what happens, even if he gets a earful later.

Jason’s the mother hen, and Dicks the idiot who would throw himself in danger every chance he gets.

It’s also why all the OG teen titans and Jason both meet up for tea just to talk about Dicks shit and silently agree to form an alliance. It’s their bonding point and now they hang out a lot too.

Dick has a feeling something’s going on, but he’s too afraid to ask.

[hanihazeljade]

Ursula 2

Tim loves to see the world burn while drinking coffee.

(W/N: I'm gonna give you one more fic before I disappear to the depth of Midterms Abyss. I hate university 😭)

(CW: Arson, swearing)

+++++

Tim never went back to the Wayne Manor, as he doesn't need to be there. He is now emancipated and now just a "civilian". He doesn't need to mingle and play pretend with them.

So just imagine the shocked on Tim's face when Bruce messaged him, when he is going to be free to join them for dinner. Typical Bruce, wouldn't have the normal "I'm busy" excuse to slide.

He pushed all of his appointments to fit in his schedule to make himself look busy, but he was already rolling in this company and he have already settled in. So, he can just pushed in to make him busy for the next two weeks.

He took a screenshot of his schedule and send it to Bruce, knowing it was the only way to make sure to the old man that he was telling the truth. Not that Tim actually care but meh.

Bruce reply with an edited version of his schedule with the dinner from them at next, next Friday. He just sent a like emoji and that is the end of that conversation. So he had to go. Like he have any choice.

So throughout the day, Tim was blowing off steam by making the board shiver in every nitpicking he was doing to their proposals and watched them digged their grave by themselves. Lucius was just shaking his head on how does Tim just lengthen their board meeting than necessary with all of his meticulous questions. But with Tam silently chuckling beside him, Tim has everyone he need to be assured that he was doing great.

But of course, before Tim go through that cursed dinner, he have to make a statement as Ursula. A burning one to be clear.

Ursula was now making waves through the internet. Ursula has his own reddit page for everyone to just said on how does Ursula helped them to get through their desperate moments in life and less of their horrible contract.

So Tim, or rather Ursula, has to make a huge bang. After all, if he needs the other Rogue to know who are they fucking with, he needs to settle Ursula, the wicked witch of Tricorner Island.

Tim has to do something.

Ursula's contracts are bind with ancient Egyptian magic. With everyone who signed their contracts but never read thoroughly his contracts as they are already desperate and nothing to lose, there is a clause about him, owning their soul, hence the control of their mind.

Tim could easily flipped the switch and make the Bowery a flaming bonfire if he wants, and so he did. Nothing was gonna trace back at him. Afterall, no one cares if the perpetrators was arrested right?

Ursula is good at making contacts, making it legal and not at all can make it a evidence against him. Tim is not an idiot to leave any evidences.

The burning campfire of Bowery was on the headlines, 'Who is Ursula?' as there is a huge commotion before the perpetrators were caught. All of them shouting, "Ursula is the new saviour."

Tim looking at the newspaper headline while sipping his dose of caffeine for the day. He smiled at the headlines as he sit down to his newly acquired black velvet couch. Tim is having the time of his life being Ursula.

But all of his good mood was flushed down to drain when he has to remind himself that he need to go to the dinner that he set three weeks ago.

He arrived to the manor, as a guest not a family, not a brother and in a professional manner. Like how his parents taught him to behave.

But as he was lucky as a black cat, he was welcomed by one and only brat, Damian Wayne.

"Why are you here, Drake?" Damian scowled, not very fond of having Timothy disturbing the peace in his house.

"Oh, I was invited. I thought Bruce would told you." Tim smiled so sweetly, and seeing the little gremlin gets more annoyed, he smiled more sweetly.

However, before Damian have something to rebut, Richard Grayson appeared out of thin air, and hugged him.

"Timmy! Nice to see you! It's been so long since we see each other." Dick said as he picked the other up and spinned.

"Richard! Put me down!" Tim yelled, hoping that this idiot would understand that he doesn't like to be hugged and spinned.

But Dick seemed to more focused on what Tim called him, "Richard? Since when did you call me Richard?"

"Since I was a child, and please let me go." Dick let Tim go and Tim beelined to the dining area and he saw Bruce, having more meat than he last saw him and seems like he was recovering good.

"Hello, Bruce. Nice to see you getting back on your feet." Tim smiled, like how he smiled to the other socialist of Gotham.

Bruce smiled back at him, "Tim, nice to see you too. Come on, sit down. The others are gonna come soon."

"Thank you, Bruce."

And with a few minutes, the dining table was filled, with more people than Tim expected. Jason, Barbara, Stephanie, and even Leslie is here. Tim is wondering if this is some sort of party or whatnot.

Leslie sat beside him and starts on asking him on any update about his health and Tim just smiled and lie, that he is fine and healthy, complete and in one piece. It seems like Leslie bought his lie and stop asking him.

The dinner is going well and Tim hopes it will go until the end, but of course, Damian would let his pathetic insecurity of not being enough as he tried to assassinate Tim's capabilities.

"Drake, I hope that you are not putting my deserved inheritance into peril." Damian sharply told him. But Tim just laughed at him.

"Oh, you can take it if you want, Damian. But ooh! Nobody is going to take a child like you seriously!" Tim giggled so highly and hoping that he annoys everyone in the table. He can sense the air to be more thicker.

"How dare you! I was born for it and you can not take it away from me!"

"Damian, I am not taking anything away from you. You were born out of pure desperation, was raised to be a killer and now living a life as a prince." Tim explained, as he wiped his mouth, indicating he is done.

"I was born to solidified a title, was raised to be perfect pawn and now living as a dictator. You and I are not the same. I am superior, you are inferior." Tim giggled once again.

But then his giggles halted, his eyes darken as he smiled so, so sweet at Damian, "But shouldn't you be focusing on Ursula rather than me?"

"If you can't even find out who Ursula is, then maybe you are not fit to the title of Batman." Tim laughed like a villain of Disney movies. He stood up and walked away but before he went out of door, he exaggeratingly bowed at them and said, "I am a very busy person, please do not contact me for something so... trivial, like dinner." and he left.

[batty-pham]

Daily BatPham Fic Rec

Oct 27

TWINcognito mode

By nerdpoe

Tags: twin shinanigans, Danny is a clone but he and Tim have decided to proceed as twins, Tim saw the situation presented to him and thought, how can I use this to fuck everyone up, and Danny replied, well Tim have you ever seen the parent trap?, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Twin AU, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Tim Drake is a Menace, Damian Wayne is a Little Shit, Jason Todd Has a Heart, Dick Grayson Tries to Be a Good Older Sibling, Cassandra Cain Being a Little Shit, Duke Thomas is So Done, Barbara Gordon Appreciation, Danny Fenton is a Professional Little Brother, I nerfed Danny

Wordcount:23,369

Summary: Danny, High King of the Infinite Realms, has been tricked into inhabiting the brainwashed and soulless clone of Tim Drake-Wayne. Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Industries and Red Robin, found a clone of himself that fought against Ra's brainwashing enough to request help. So Tim and Danny, upon both being cognizant enough to be on the same wavelength, looked at each other and decided hey; it's a free twin. Now how do we make that everyone elses problem?

Complete: yes

Amazing situational humor, amazing fic if you love how the batfam are great detectives but miss what is right underneath their noses.

[justasimpleton-26]

Jason and Ballet

(MDNI)

You were nervous. And okay, at the same time scared shitless. Because what type of person would move to Gotham, New Jersey of all places?

But your long-distance friend, Dick Grayson, promised you that he could keep you safe if you decided to start the Gotham University Performance Arts program. (Which weirdly had a high rate of individuals becoming pros in their respected fields.)

So, after having an intense conversation with your parents and siblings about it...you decided to take the risk and move 4 states over from the home you always knew...to the place that people used as cautionary tales.

At first, you hated it. Smog made everything look gray, and the sky never looked blue. You were even worried that if you breathed the air of Gotham, you'd have lung problems and there goes your career as a ballerina.

But somehow, you adjusted.

And then your very handsome long-distance friend became your best friend as he helped you practice for your audition, which was looming closer and closer to you more than you cared to admit.

But sometimes, Dick would disappear for days at a time, and send his younger brother Jason to help you.

At first, it was awkward. Jason had the stillness that came from years of fighting professionally, and he couldn't quite grasp the stretches and exercises you needed to do to keep your body in shape. Sometimes, if you weren't paying attention, you could see him admire you as all your weight was pressed onto one toe, and you held it like that for long periods of time, until it was time to move again. And yes, he did double takes when he saw how limber you were ("Because no way can you just casually lift your leg that high up, and keep it there"), trying to see if he can do it himself.

Eventually, Jason takes over as your practice partner, coming in instead of Dick, even when Dick is available, insisting he go back to spending time with Kori his girlfriend, and you're flattered, thinking nothing of it as you and Jason fall into a steady rhythm of practicing with one another.

But then you feel the pressure of your audition coming up, and dances that you could do in your sleep, you fumble. Your balance messes up, and doubts start to fill in your mind.

"I don't know Jason, I'm just...really messing up for some reason." You tell him one day that you ended practice early, and decided to get coffee early.

"You think you might be overthinking it because auditions are in less than a month?" he asks, as he takes a sip from his Americano with two creams and one sugar.

Stressed, you nod, and the both of you are silent for a moment.

Then, Jason pulls out a pen as he scribbles something on a napkin.

"Look, before practice tomorrow, I want you to come over my place and we can discuss a plan to help with your doubts, okay?" he says, as he slides the napkin towards you.

You think about it, and then nod. You need all the tips you can get.

After that, the conversation turns less serious, and soon after you part ways, Jason heading to his apartment, and you heading to the studio you rented.

You weren't sure what you imagined Jason's apartment complex to look like, but this wasn't it. It looks less ostentatious and more cozy, closer to those small-town motels you'd seen in movies. You walk through the maze of hallways until you find his apartment door, knocking on it.

"It's open!" Jason calls out, sounding rushed as he drops something, and swears, another thud sounding out.

You walk in, and see the interior of his home, shelves upon shelves of books lining up on his walls, faded superhero posters crammed on almost every wall surface, and a faded plush red couch, a coffee table with family pictures lined up on it.

You don't see Jason yet, so you hold up some of the picture frames, smiling at the group photos on there. Dick had told you about his extensive adopted siblings, and though you hadn't met them yet, it was nice to see faces to names you've always heard about.

"You made it." Jason said behind her, breathless. He was leaning down, hands on his knees as he wore shirt with the sleeves torn off.

You never noticed how...muscled he was though.

You take a deep breath, and try to calm the thoughts bouncing through your head.

After all, what kind of trouble could the two of you get into?

[pluviatrix]

the way i would let dick grayson hit. i need that man biblically diabolically disgustingly horrifically i need him in a way that is concerning to divorce lawyers and medical professionals. sir i'd do your errands. i will get your car's oil changed. i will pick your brothers up from school. i will wash your laundry and i will actually get the dry clean only bits dry cleaned. that's how bad it is. marry me and you can take everything in our prenup. i'm in your apartment lobby. i'm SAT. i'm HERE. my phone number is