#wayne empire au | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mimiiiiiiiiisstuff · 2 months ago

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"This is me trying"

Prologue.

ok yall!! so i'm in a bit of writers block for IBDL and the older AU after tumblr deleted the chpaters I spent days writing. Butttt I did come up with this, reader is still neglected bc she can never be happy, but it's a darker Mafia Au. This also sucks bc it also got deleted but i really wanted to post something and get feeback on this concept. This is the prologue! Hope yall enjoy! Likes, asks, reblogs, and comments make my day and encourage me to write more. Send in aks!!

TW: BRIEF SA, IF IT TRIGGERS YOU, DONT READ!

The Wayne Manor was a sprawling gothic monstrosity perched on the edge of the Gotham skyline, a dark and looming silhouette against the backdrop of a city that never truly slept. It was a place where secrets festered, where power and control were everything, and where the lives of the people within its walls revolved around wealth, influence, and fear. For the people who lived in it, this was home. For you? It was a prison.The Wayne family was Gotham's most powerful mafia family, maybe even in all of North America, an empire built on crime, manipulation, and ruthless control. At the top of it all was Bruce Wayne, the cold and calculating godfather. Your actual father. Beneath him, each of his children had their role to play. But you, his biological daughter, were no more than a ghost within the house. You were a byproduct of a two-night stand with a whore, as your family called her, that had long since faded into shadows, and your presence was barely tolerated by the very people who were supposed to be your family.

At least, that’s how it felt after nearly a decade of living here.

You had arrived at Wayne Manor when you were just seven years old, dragged from the wreckage of your mother’s overdose by a man who was nothing more than a stranger. Bruce Wayne—cold, distant, and unforgiving. A man who ruled over the city with an iron fist and a heart as cold as the marble floors beneath your feet. He wasn’t your father, he never had been. He had simply become the man who was tasked with your care, but that wasn’t much of a care at all. Bruce’s love had always been reserved for the empire he had built, not you. You were merely another complication in his already fractured world. He told you that your mother had left you, that you were his responsibility now, and that you needed to prove you were worthy of the Wayne name. A name that, for the longest time, had been nothing but an empty echo in your mind.

Your mother was your hero, a military hero who realized how fucked up America was and retired. She, like most veterans, got hooked on drugs but that didn't mean she loved you any less. When she died, she took your happiest parts with her.

“Prove you deserve the last name Wayne,” Bruce had said when you were first brought into the manor, his eyes hard, his tone colder than the mansion’s marble floors. He’d looked at you like you were nothing but another part of the vast empire he controlled, a problem to be solved, a name to be earned.

And that’s what you did. You worked. You tried to prove yourself, to be a part of this family—this business. But it didn’t matter. You were invisible to them, a shadow in the background of the Wayne Empire. A ghost that haunted the halls of a mansion that never felt like home.

The moment he had taken you in, he’d told you to keep your head down. "Wayne’s don’t cry. Wayne’s don’t show weakness," he had said, his tone dead and devoid of any warmth. You couldn’t even remember the last time he’d spoken to you unless it was to reprimand or scold you for something minor. You learned quickly that to Bruce, you didn’t exist.

He was the head of the Wayne Mafia and Wayne enterprise, the mastermind who controlled everything from the shadows. He was feared, respected, and never showed weakness. He wasn't your father. He was your boss, distant, cold, and authoritarian. To him, you were nothing. He barely acknowledged you unless you were needed for some mafia-related task, which was almost never. You were neglected in the deepest way possible, emotionally invisible, yet physically present only when it was required.

You learned early on that any attempt to gain his affection was futile. He was too busy running his empire, and any sign of weakness—like wanting to be close to him—was met with disdain. His affection was reserved for his empire and all his other children.

At 15, you had spent eight years in the mansion without a single ounce of affection from him. You were a tool to him, nothing more. And yet, despite his coldness, you still wanted to earn his approval. You knew it was futile, but there was still something inside you that clung to the hope that one day, maybe, he’d look at you like he did the others. You became top of your class, played volleyball, did cheer, ballet, theatre, became student council president, won every award under the sun hoping he’d notice, that one day he’d show up at your award ceremony and bring your siblings. They’d all be grinning at you proudly, they’d make sure everyone knew you were part of the family, they’d let you sit with them at dinner and let you tell them about your most recent tennis match. But that was always a fantasy.

And maybe that was what broke you the most: knowing that he would never see you as a true part of the family.

Earning the Wayne name felt like a distant dream, like something only the others could ever attain. Bruce made it clear when you arrived at Wayne Manor was that you didn’t belong here yet. His blood ran cold when he looked at you, as though you were a mistake he’d have to clean up. There was no room for kindness, no words of comfort. Just a cold gaze, and then the hollow command to stay out of his way.

As you grew older, the cruelty only deepened, and it wasn’t just Bruce.

When Dick Grayson entered the scene, you were still just a child, struggling to make sense of your place in the mansion. He was everything Bruce wasn’t, charming, always smiling, and the golden boy of the family. The way he spoke to you, with that practiced air of kindness, made your skin crawl.

But the smile he wore to the rest of the world was never the one he gave you. The moment the doors closed behind you two, that smile would disappear, replaced with a smirk that spoke volumes. His jokes about you, his casual jabs, it was like nothing you did would ever be good enough. He was always pushing you, always finding ways to make you feel small.

“You know, if you weren’t so weak, Bruce might actually notice you,” Dick would say as he walked by, his eyes flicking over you like you were nothing more than a nuisance. "But don’t worry. Maybe you’ll prove yourself one day. Maybe.”

His words, though they came with a laugh, always carried the sharp edge of cruelty.

The eldest of the children, the perfect golden boy, the one who could do no wrong in Bruce’s eyes. Dick was no different than the rest. As a leader of a section of the family’s operations, he was a busy man. He had his own goals and ambitions, and when it came to you, he cruel.

To Dick, you were a lost cause, someone who wasn't worth the effort, the butt of the joke. While he didn't mock you as often as Damian or Jason, he certainly didn’t love you, he didn't even like you. He was more likely to ignore you entirely, but if you caught him in a bad mood.........He never tried to be a big brother, and in moments when you needed comfort, he’d either brush you off or simply laugh at you and make you feel worse.

Damian—Bruce’s biological son. Your little brother who seemed to have it all. The heir to the throne, groomed for greatness, your father's love. It wasn’t hard to see the resentment and hatred in his eyes whenever you crossed paths. At 13, Damian was already a lethal force, training under the most dangerous men in the world. But what you hated most about him was that, despite the bitterness, he always seemed to find ways to put you down.

your younger half-brother, was the perfect assassin in training, and he hated you. He hated how you existed in his space, how you took up time and energy that could have been spent on his training. To him, you were a nuisance, a shadow in his way. He didn't care about family bonds or affection. You were just the member of the household that didn’t belong.

Damian's cold demeanor was the product of years of indoctrination into the Wayne family’s brutal world. He was protective of the family, of Bruce’s approval, so any sign of weakness or attachment from you only made him more disgusted. He’d learned to use violence as a way to control people, but when it came to you, he was especially harsh, never lifting a finger to defend you, but constantly mocking, hurting, and ridiculing you, making you feel small and insignificant.

Damian never missed a chance to make cruel remarks about you, as though any attempt at closeness with you would be seen as weakness.

"You're nothing more than a distraction," Damian would sneer as he walked past you, his green eyes glowing with disdain. "Father is wasting time on you. You’ll never be one of us."

His words sliced through you like a blade, and it only made the ache of rejection burn deeper.

Tim was the one who ignored you the most. He had a sharp intellect, a mind for strategy, and an indifference to almost everyone around him, including you. You had tried to talk to him once, hoping for some sort of connection, you were around the same age after all, but he just stared through you as though you weren’t there.

When he did speak, it was never pleasant.

"Could you be quieter for once?" he snapped one evening, his gaze never leaving his laptop screen. "Some of us are trying to work."

It was a pattern, one that left you feeling invisible, like you didn’t even exist in his world. On rare occasions, when he was in a particularly bad mood, he’d throw a cutting remark your way, something meant to remind you that you were just a nuisance in his eyes.

"You think you’re important just because you’re here?" Tim would sneer. "Get over yourself. You’ll never be more than a side character."

The family’s strategist, and tech genius, was the quietest of the bunch. Tim was obsessed with perfection, everything had to be meticulously planned. When it came to you, he was condescending. He believed you were too naïve, too soft for the harsh world they lived in. It was clear that he didn’t consider you part of the family in a meaningful way. To him, you were just another piece in the game, and you were never treated like an equal.

Tim would lecture you about what you should be doing, constantly putting you down in subtle ways that made you question your worth.

Jason was the worst of all, next to Damian of course. Where the others merely ignored you or made snide comments, Jason was outright cruel. He made it clear that he didn’t want you here from the moment you arrived. He’d watch you with a sneer on his face, like you were something he had to tolerate rather than a part of the family.

“Do you ever stop being pathetic?” Jason growled one night, cornering you in the hallway. He was older than you—by eight years—and his presence was always overwhelming, his anger like a shadow that clung to him wherever he went. “You’re nothing but a waste of space. Bruce should’ve left you on the streets where you belong.”

You could never forget that night. The venom in his words, the way he towered over you with that sick, twisted smile that barely concealed the disgust he felt for you—it stayed with you, festering in your mind.

Your older brother, was once a wild and rebellious soul, but after his brutal experience with the Joker, he became even more distant. He had built walls around himself, and those walls excluded you. To him, you were nothing more than a symbol of the dysfunction that ran through the Wayne family. He didn’t care about you, he resented you for simply existing.

Whenever he interacted with you, it was laced with sarcasm and cruelty. He would always mock you in front of the others, tearing down your self-esteem at every opportunity. Your attempts to reach out to him were met with disgust, and sometimes even attacks. If you tried to talk to him about anything personal, he’d brush you off with an eye roll or sarcastic comment.

He was a silent witness to your pain, and he didn't care to acknowledge it.

The girls—Steph, Cass, and Barbara—were no better.

Stephanie would occasionally feign interest in you, only to turn it into a mocking session. "You really think Bruce cares about you?" she’d ask with a smirk. "He just likes having more bodies around to do his bidding. And you? You’re nothing but a backup plan, a mistake."

Cass, though quieter, was no less cruel. She had a way of looking at you as if you were beneath her, like you didn’t even deserve to breathe the same air. Her silence was more suffocating than any words could be.

Barbara, though, was the most calculating. She used her intelligence to manipulate, twisting everything into a game of control. She’d often mock you in front of the others, making it feel like you were a joke.

“Do you really think you’ll ever be anything but Bruce’s charity case?” she asked one day, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You’ll never be one of us. Don’t kid yourself.”

They were mean in every sense of the word, they made fun of your looks, your weight, your height, they gave you insecurities you never would’ve thought of.

Alfred, the Wayne family’s butler, was perhaps the only one who ever showed any genuine care, but even that was limited. Alfred's soft-spoken nature meant he was there for you, but he was more like a caretaker than a father figure. He was more interested in making sure you were fed, safe, and well taken care of, but he never pushed against Bruce or the others to make sure you were emotionally okay. Alfred was loyal to the family and followed Bruce’s commands, no matter how cruel they were.

And then there was Duke.

Duke, the one who never even seemed to acknowledge your existence. He was polite—always saying "hello" when he passed by, but that was the extent of it. He didn’t hate you. He didn’t love you. He just… ignored you. It was almost worse than anything the others did. At least when they made fun of you, you existed to them.

But Duke? He acted as if you weren’t even in the room.

In the end, you were just a shadow in Wayne Manor. There was no love here, no family. Just a constant, searing reminder that you didn’t belong.

You were nothing. You were nobody.

But you’d change that. You had to. You had to prove yourself worthy of the Wayne name. Even if it meant enduring their cruelty.

Because deep down, you knew that in a family built on power and fear, only the strongest survived.

And maybe, just maybe, you could become something more.

At Gotham Academy, you were untouchable.

There was no other way to put it. You were awkward and lonely in middle school but that changed as soon as you hit puberty in high school. Suddenly you were the girl everyone wanted to be or be with. Effortless grace and charm, the kind of girl who seemed to have it all together. You were the captain of the cheer team, the student body president, the girl who could throw a party, lead a project, and still ace every test. The guys chased after you with varying levels of persistence, but none of them knew who you really were. They didn’t know you were a Wayne.

They didn’t know you were just a forgotten child in the massive, shadowed halls of Wayne Manor.

At school, you were alive. Teachers fawned over you, praising your work ethic, your achievements, and your positive attitude. "Your essays are brilliant," Mrs. Summers would say, always raising her eyebrow in surprise when she saw your name at the top of the page. "You never fail to impress, your parents must be proud." You smiled, the words coming easily, just as they always did. The praise felt good, almost like an escape from the emptiness that waited for you when you returned to Wayne Manor.

But the truth was, you were dying for something real, something that made you feel seen at home.

When school let out, you gathered your things, avoiding the usual parade of admirers by slipping through the back doors of the school to your waiting car. Today, there was no stopping the swarm of boys who followed you from class to class. Josh from the football team had been practically suffocating you all day with his relentless compliments, while Lucas, the track star, was constantly finding excuses to "study" with you. Both of them seemed to think your "no" was just another challenge. But despite their attention, you were still the one who didn’t belong.

Because once you left Gotham Academy, once you stepped into Wayne Manor, you were nobody.

Bruce never cared to acknowledge your presence, let alone make you feel like part of the family. He was always wrapped up in his business empire or his “other life,” never bothering to check in on you. The closest thing you had to a father was Alfred, the ever-loyal butler, who was the only one who seemed to care about you. But even his affection was distant, a courtesy reserved for a child who didn’t quite fit.

Damian, Tim, Stephanie, and Duke all attended Gotham Prep, the elite school for Gotham’s privileged. Bruce had never bothered enrolling you there, and you wondered, sometimes, if it was because you weren’t good enough, weren’t worth the effort.

And yet, despite their indifference, you longed to be seen by them. Maybe if you earned their respect, earned Bruce’s approval, they would start noticing you.

But it was always the same: emptiness.

The one place you could truly escape to was Grace's house. Grace was your best friend, your sister in every way that mattered. She was the one who saw the real you, the one who didn’t care about your last name or your family’s wealth. She was the only one who knew you were the unwanted daughter of Gothams most infamous mobster. She accepted you as you were: a girl who was as talented as she was misunderstood.

At Grace’s house, you felt alive. It was a normal, cozy home, filled with laughter and love, the kind of place that had never been offered to you at Wayne Manor. Her parents treated you like their own daughter, and her two older brothers—Isaac and Nathan—had taken to protecting you like you were their little sister. Her youngest brother, James annoyed you as much as he did Grace and somehow, you loved him for it. It was nice being a big sister to someone who was actually normal and didn't try to kill you all the time.

Grace’s oldest brother, Daniel, was another story, he treated you like a sister even though you've had a crush on him since you were 10.

You flirted with him constantly. It wasn’t anything serious, but Daniel had a way of making your heart race in a way that the boys at Gotham Academy never could. He was a older than you, maybe 21, with a confident charm that made him irresistible. Tall, blonde, jacked, he was the perfect All-American boy. You knew he wasn’t ever going to see you as anything more that a little sister but that didn’t stop you from trying. Every time he walked into the room, your heart did a little skip, and you couldn’t help but turn into a blushing mess. Grace teased you endlessly for it. Daniel was your first ever crush and that feeling would never really go away, no matter how much you saw him or how sisterly he treated you.

Most nights, you stayed over at Grace's. It became a regular tradition—weekends spent in her house, sprawled out on her couch for movie marathons, stealing her clothes, gossiping about school, and stealing snacks from her kitchen. You loved it there. You could forget about Wayne Manor, forget about the neglect and the loneliness, and just be a normal teenager. You came over for Thanksgiving, your birthday, and for Christmas they even had a stocking with your name on it.

One night, after a particularly grueling practice, Grace invited you to another sleepover at her house. As usual, you packed a bag with the essentials, pajamas, a change of clothes, and your phone, just in case. You already had most things at her house, you practically lived with her at this point. The moment you arrived, Grace’s dad, Thomas, greeted you with a warm hug, his hearty laugh filling the room. “Here comes trouble!” he said, ruffling your hair in that easy-going way he did every time you showed up.

You felt the pang of longing for a real family, but you pushed it away, embracing the warmth of the moment. You wanted to be part of this family, a normal family.

Grace’s siblings were equally welcoming. Nathan tossed you a snack and winked. “You ready to get your ass kicked at Mario Kart again?” he teased, knowing full well that you were unbeatable.

James groaned "I knew I smelled another loser walk in" You gasped dramatically and put him into a headlock, ruffling his hair till he apologized.

As the night went on, and you all sat around Grace’s kitchen table, laughing and joking, you couldn't shake the feeling that your life at Wayne Manor, and the family that barely looked at you, was a shadow that still loomed over your heart.

But then, as if to prove that life couldn’t just be simple for you, the front door of Grace’s house swung open, and your phone buzzed in your pocket. You glanced at it, your stomach dropping as you saw the name.

Alfred.

You knew what it meant. You couldn't sleep over tonight. Bruce was having people over and you had to be there in case the guests asked about you. Another night where you'd sit at the table in the maids kitchen, listening to your family get along without you. Pretending that Bruce’s absence didn’t eat away at you, didn't make you feel less than. You ignored his message. You didn't want to go home, really the guests never even knew Bruce had a biological daughter, they wouldn't ask about you. This was just Alfred's way of trying to make the family bond with you.

It was always the same. Bruce only ever reached out when he needed you for something, when his empire demanded your presence. But never for the reason you truly needed. Not for affection. Not for love.

You stood up abruptly, suddenly feeling suffocated by the laughter and warmth of Grace’s home. You didn’t want to leave. Didn’t want to go back to the place that always made you feel so… alone. But you had to. You had no choice. You already ignored Alfred's text long enough, you missed dinner so you had to get home or else Bruce might actually kill you, if he even noticed you weren't there.

No matter how far you ran, how many awards you won, or how many boys followed you around at school, the question remained: when would you finally be seen by the ones who mattered most?

That night, your prayers were answered, your bravery caught the entire family's attention just when you had gotten okay with their negligence, began to enjoy doing whatever you wanted from the shadows.

The rain was fucking relentless.

It hammered down from the heavens, soaking you to the bone as you walked through the backstreets of Gotham. The kind of rain that made you feel like you were being baptized in cold, dirty water. You pulled the hood of your jacket up, not that it did a damn thing to keep you dry. The city’s grimy streets were slick with water, reflecting the neon lights like a damn funhouse mirror. You kept your head down, trying to ignore the chill creeping through your clothes.

Grace’s house had been a brief escape from the cold, suffocating grip of Wayne Manor. For a few hours, you’d felt like a person again. Like someone who could actually live, instead of just existing as a piece of forgotten furniture in the mansion. But that was before Alfred had texted. Before you saw his name flash across your screen, making your stomach twist in a knot.

"Shit," you muttered under your breath, shoving the phone back into your pocket. Not today. Not now. You needed more time before you went back to that suffocating place. But you knew it wasn’t a choice. Bruce would be pissed, and when Bruce Wayne was pissed? Everyone knew about it.

Still, you had to push forward. It was Gotham, after all. A rainstorm in this city could mean anything from a mugging to a full-on shootout. Every step felt heavier as you neared the looming silhouette of Wayne Manor. The mansion stood there like some kind of ancient titan, always watching, always waiting, and never giving a damn about who you were.

The door creaked open, and you slipped inside, trying to make as little noise as possible. Maybe you’d get lucky and Bruce would be too busy with whatever the hell was going on to notice you sneaking in.

Fat chance.

The foyer was dark, and the mansion smelled like dust and expensive wood polish. You should have felt comforted by the familiarity, but instead, all you could feel was that gnawing sense of isolation. The Manor had always felt like a prison to you, and not the kind you could escape with a couple of well-timed sprints or clever words. This was a cage built with stone and glass, and you were stuck inside it.

You started down the hallway, the faint sound of voices growing louder as you passed the dining room.

And then you stopped. Something in the air changed. The hairs on your neck stood up. You were too close to the dining hall, and the moment you looked in through the door, your breath hitched in your chest.

There, at the long grand dining table, sat your family—or, well, what was left of them. Every one of them was slumped forward, tied to their chairs with ropes, blood trickling from their ears, noses, and mouths. The first thing you noticed was that no one was moving. No one was breathing. They all looked... dead.

Bruce. Damian. Jason. Dick. Tim. Cass. Duke. Steph. Barbra, even Alfred was slumped over in the corner where he usually kept watch. All of them.

Your stomach dropped to your feet as you backed away slowly. This was not happening.

“No fucking way,” you breathed out, stepping back, trying to backpedal before anyone heard you. But your mind was already working overtime. Who did this? Why?

The answer came quickly. It didn’t take much to put two and two together. The guests, it had to be them. The rich assholes who had “business” with Bruce. Except now, you were figuring out that the business they were conducting didn’t involve any stock markets or deals. It was murder.

And then the realization hit: whoever these people were, they weren’t here for some petty robbery. They’d been in the house long enough to take down the entire family without a sound.

Fuck.

Your mind went blank. For a second, you thought you were dreaming. But no, this was real. And this was not happening.

You were about to turn on your heel and haul ass out of there, but that’s when you heard it. Footsteps. Heavy footsteps. Two of them, moving fast, and definitely not the quiet kind. The air around you felt thicker. The kind of thick that made your skin crawl.

You darted to the side, taking cover behind a marble pillar. From the sound of it, someone was coming this way. Your heart pounded in your chest as you held your breath, praying to God they didn’t notice you.

You needed to leave. Now. Run. Go.

But just as you turned, desperate to bolt before anyone saw you, you froze.

Footsteps. Heavy, deliberate, and moving fast.

There was no time to think, you stayed hidden watching them walk around the room. They were wearing crisp black suits, and all three looked like they shopped in the"Big and tall" section. There was no way you could fight off all three, yeah you had some muscle but nothing like Jason or even Tim. Even Bruce would break a sweat facing these guys. They seemed to be checking Bruce's pockets right now, looking for something.

While they were distracted, you took deep breathes, trying to calm down. Who the fuck were these people? How did they manage to trick the infamous Wayne Family? What did they want? How could you get out of this and save your family?

Did you even want to save your family?

You shook the thought away quickly; of course you wanted to save them, they were cruel and horrible but who were you to decide their fate without trying to help them? Who made you judge, jury, and executioner?

Then you saw it, Bruce's emergency button, hidden on the wall. Only noticeable to someone who's wandered these halls for years. You almost fell to your knees in relief as you sneakily crawled over to it and pressed it.

Help was on the way and the intruders didn't know you were here! You smiled feeling pure relief at your quick thinking.

How's that for useless huh Damian? You wanted to taunt him as you looked at his unconsious form. He was so much better this way, they all were. They were silent.

Then, you heard it, the loud blaring of alarms and sirens. "Emergency." "Emergency." Alfred's voice rang through the whole manor and the sirens alerted the men that you were in the dining room.

You groaned, eyes burning with tears, "Who's the fucking dumbass that made the silent alarm LOUD?"

The men came rushing into the dining room yet it seemed to be your lucky-unlucky day. Only one of them had a gun.

Time seemed to slow as he aimed it at Bruce's soon to be lifeless head. You don't know what came over you as you tackled Bruce's unconscious body out of the bullets way.

You regretted it as soon as you did it, your vision went white with pain as the bullet hit you shoulder.

You pushed through the pain and grabbed a butter knife as one of the unarmed men approached you. You punched and ducked but the pain slowed you down. He hit you hard right in the ribs, so you did him one better and gouged his right eye out with your butter knife. Those boxing classes really did do some good, no wonder your mom insisted on them.

More shots rang out and it was out of pure adreneline that you were able to pull almost each and every member of your family under the table. Damian was the only one left and as you stood to pull him down too, you saw the armed man pull the trigger of his gun. He was going to kill your baby brother, he was aiming at the 14 year old's head. No matter how cruel or vicious Damian was, he's still a child, still your little brother.

You couldn't let him die. Maybe that's why you threw your self on top of his body, protecting him from the two bullets aimed at him.

Fuck.

This hurt. No wonder people hated being shot. This hurt more than cheer warm ups, did you think you were bulletproof?

You decided that you would just allow the next person to be shot. The man's footsteps were coming closer and you were getting more light headed from the pain. You turned to Jason's unconscious body and punched him. "Wake up you fucking loser! I can't fight this guy."

Obviously, Jason didn't wake up, why did you even think anyone in this family would ever try and help you?

As you shook him and panicked even more, you noticed something shining in Bruce's pocket. So much for "No weapons at the dinner table."

A sleek black gun, any other day you would've marveled at the custom design on it and focused on the monograming, but right now all that mattered was getting it before you bled out and the man killed you. You crawled and those five steps felt like eternity and when you finally grabbed the gun out of Bruce's armani suit pocket, the scary man was standing above you with a cruel grin.

Your heart dropped as he knelt next to you and stroked your hair, "Hey, pretty." He breathed out as he knelt next to you, his hands wandering around your body and up your skirt. Bile rose to your mouth and your heart dropped. No. This isn't happening. "If I had know Bruce had such a pretty thing, I would've been come here. You're certainly the looker compared to your sisters." He said as he began smelling your hair.

You don't know how it happened, but suddenly he was laying on the floor with blood coming out his throat. You looked between your hand holding the gun and his now lifeless body in horror. The last thing you heard before passing out was a flurry of boots and gunshots and a man that sounded like your father yelling for a doctor. The last thing you saw was a tall boy lifting you up, his eyes as blue as the sky, and you genuinely believed you died and went to heaven.

The room was cold, sterile, a sharp contrast to the emotional storm raging inside you. The pain in your shoulder and stomach was nothing compared to the weight on your chest, the realization that no matter what, you couldn’t escape this life anymore. You had made your choice, whether you liked it or not.

You woke to the soft beeping of machines and the scent of antiseptic in the air, your vision still blurry. It didn’t take long for the footsteps to reach you—slow, deliberate. The door creaked open, and one by one, they walked in.

Dick entered first, his expression calm but unreadable. His gaze lingered on you for a moment, and instead of his usual mocking smile, there was something more restrained about him now. The newfound respect he had for you was obvious, but there was a subtle weight behind it. He didn’t say much, just gave you a nod.

“You’re still breathing, that's good,” he said softly, his voice low, a simple acknowledgment. “We all owe you for that. For what you did.” The words weren’t a compliment, they were recognition, quiet and heavy. The respect was there, but so was the unspoken truth: You were one of them now.

You expected to feel happier. You imagined this day so many times before, you prayed for it, so why were you sick to your stomach now that it's happened? Why didn't you want it anymore and why hadn't you realized it till now?

Damian was next, stepping in with his usual, stoic expression. His eyes flicked over you briefly, but there was no anger in his gaze, only a quiet understanding, maybe even admiration, hidden beneath the surface. He didn’t bother with pleasantries.

“Your actions saved all of us,” he said, voice flat. “You’ve earned your place here. Just don’t forget it.” His words weren’t harsh, but there was no room for doubt. You had proved yourself. And that meant something far more permanent than any spoken affirmation could express.

Ungrateful brat. You took a bullet for him and he couldn't even thank you. God, you hated him. You were starting to wish you weren't a good person and let them all die. The inheritance would've been insane.

Jason followed suit, and though his rough edges remained, there was a faint softness in his expression as he looked at you.

“Damn, princess,” he muttered, his eyes scanning you with quiet intensity. “You really pulled through. You did what most of us couldn’t.” His gaze softened for just a moment, and then he leaned against the doorframe. “Didn't realize I had such a badass as a little sister. The knife move, the way you ducked and punched? Sick."

Jason, of all people, was praising you. Treating you like his sister rather than dirt at the bottom of his shoe. The nickname, princess, he once used to ridicule you, was said with a quiet revrance; like he actually thought you were a princess now. You couldn't help but feel good, this was all you wanted all these years. And in that moment, you would get shot again without hesitation if it meant you would get that everyday.

Tim entered next, and though his face was stoic, his eyes betrayed the flicker of respect, maybe even admiration. “We all saw it,” he said, his voice steady, but tinged with something quieter. “What you did… It wasn’t just about surviving. It was about protecting us. You earned the right to stand beside us. We all thank you.”

Well, it's not great but at least someone is appreciative. None of them would've done the same for you.

Cass entered, silent as always, but the look she gave you spoke volumes. She didn’t need to say anything—her eyes, sharp and understanding, told you that she saw your sacrifice, saw what you had done for them. She gave you a slight nod, acknowledging your place among them.

Then Duke and Stephanie stepped in.

Duke’s eyes were calm, but you could see the flicker of something more behind his gaze. The weight of what had happened didn’t escape him. His voice was steady as he spoke.

“You did what we couldn’t,” he said, his tone quiet but unshakable. “You kept us alive. All of us. And that means something. You’ve earned your place in this family.” His eyes softened, just the slightest bit. “Just don’t forget... that this family doesn’t leave anyone behind. Not anymore.”

And then there was Stephanie. Her usual energy was gone, replaced with something more somber. She didn’t crack a joke or make a snide remark. Her eyes scanned you with something like respect, but more than that, a quiet understanding that you’d been forced to prove yourself in ways none of them had ever been asked you to.

“Guess you really are one of us now,” she said softly, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, but it wasn’t lighthearted. It was tired. “I don’t know about you, but I’m glad you’re still here.” Her voice wavered slightly, but she pulled herself together quickly. “You’ve got our backs. We’ve got yours.”

Barbra stood next to her in agreement, looking hesitant to say something. She was the only one who noticed how much you resented them even though you were desperate for their love and approval.

What. The. Fuck.

No way this is happening. This is not real. Who knew saving someone's life could have them do a complete 180. Stephanie said she had your back. Duke acknowledged your existence. Jason didn't make you cry. Damian didn't attempt to kill or maim you. It's like the sky turned pink.

Finally, Bruce.

He stepped into the room, his presence overwhelming. The familiar weight of his gaze was on you immediately, but today there was something different—something almost proud in the way he looked at you, as if he finally saw you as more than just a forgotten name in the Wayne family history.

He was quiet for a moment, his hands folded in front of him. And then he spoke, his voice steady, unyielding, but carrying an undertone of something that almost felt like respect. “You did more than survive. You saved our lives. Every single one of us.” His eyes didn’t leave you. “You’re part of this family now. You’ve earned it. You earned the name Wayne.”

The words hit you harder than anything else. Part of the family.

It was like a weight dropping onto your chest—something heavy, something that couldn’t be easily brushed away. There was no turning back. You were one of them now, and that scared you, you hadn’t anticipated that.

Bruce’s eyes softened, just slightly, but his voice remained firm. “From this moment forward, you have a curfew. Midnight. You may have earned your place here, but you’ll follow the rules, just like the rest of us.”

You didn’t say anything. How could you? His words settled into your chest like stone, the finality of them carving out any space for protest. There was no choice in the matter. You were in this life now, whether you wanted to be or not. Midnight was late for a curfew anyway, Grace had to be home by 9.

“We all owe you our lives,” Bruce continued, but there was no gratitude in his tone, only a recognition of the debt. “But that doesn’t mean you’re exempt from the responsibilities we carry. Understand?”

You nodded once, slowly, the words caught in your throat. You wanted to speak, wanted to scream, to tell him that you weren’t sure you could do this, that you didn’t know if you were ready to live this life—the life of a Wayne, the life of this family.

What did a mafia family even do? Did you run around being Bruce's useless henchman, or did you have to go around trying to kill people? Could they be more specific about the pros and cons?

But nothing came out. There was nothing you could say that would change anything now.

Jason gave you a crooked grin,“Guess you’ve got to start following the rules now, huh? Welcome to the real family business.”

Tim’s gaze lingered for a moment, his eyes unreadable. “We’re all in this together,” he said quietly. “Whether you like it or not.”

Damian’s face softened, but only slightly. “I expect you to keep up,” he added, before turning to leave. “No slacking. We all carry our weight in this family.”

Cass’s presence remained, her silent approval almost suffocating in its quiet intensity.

Duke gave you one last nod before he turned, the weight of his gaze a reminder that you couldn’t slip out of this, no matter how much you might want to. He wasn’t angry—just silently resolute in his understanding. “You’re one of us now. That means something.”

And Stephanie? Her eyes lingered on you for a moment longer, before she gave you a small, tired smile. “We’re with you. All the way.”

Bruce? He gave you one last look, his eyes still holding that rare spark of approval—but it wasn’t soft. It wasn’t warm. It was measured, like a general overseeing a soldier. You were part of the mission now.

“We’ll train,” he said, his voice unwavering. “We’ll teach you everything you need to know. But it’s clear you’ve already proven yourself.”

You lay back against the pillows, the silence that followed hanging heavy in the air.

This is so weird. Why are they all being nice? How do you react to it? How do you interact with them? Is it genuine gratitude for saving their lives or is it a cruel joke to make you feel like you're important.

As they left, one by one, you stayed there, immobilized by the weight of it all. You’d earned your place here. But what did that mean now? What did it mean to be part of this family? You weren’t sure you even wanted it. But it was too late to turn back now.

OK YALL HERES THE PROLOGUE!! LMK WHAT YALL THINK AND HOW I SHOULD/ IF I SHOULD CONTINUE THIS FIC!!! HOPE YALL ENJOYED!! SEND IN ASKS! SORRY IF IT SUCKS LEAVE ME ALONE!!

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undreaming-fanfiction · 1 year ago

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I don't even have a clear storyline in mind for this, but I just really, really want to see a modern AU with Eddie as a detective who investigates the Harrington Pharma company. The company is huge and looks clean on paper, but Eddie has a nose for these things, he knows something is wrong. He knows that Richard Harrington ran some sketchy trials and some of Wayne's friends have lifelong health issues, Chief Jim Hopper included.

The company looks almost impenetrable, but Eddie digs. No detail is too small for him. He crosses paths with the owner's son and a board member, Steve Harrington. Eddie despises him. A fucking rich kid, making millions out of other people's misery. His public appearances are well rehearsed, but Eddie knows his type. A shallow, pretty partying douchebag who hasn't had to work a single day in his life. His PR manager Robin Buckley seems way too decent to work with such a bunch of assholes, but Eddie's seen what money can do to people. Either way she's corrupt too.

He meets the younger Harrington several times. The handsome young man is not openly hostile, but he's condescending, bitchy and he looks at Eddie as if he were dirt. "Good luck with your efforts," he sneers when he sees Eddie digging through the public records of Harrington Pharma. "But maybe get a real hobby instead? I hear golf is nice." Eddie wants to murder him.

Eddie cooperates with an investigative journalist, Nancy Wheeler, who keeps all her cards close to her chest, but she still points him in the right direction several times. He collects evidence, partners up with the public prosecutor Joyce Byers. He even meets her son, Jonathan, who is able to get the most damning photographic evidence. No one fully trusts each other, but that's okay. Harrington Pharma is their shared enemy and that's enough.

One day, Eddie makes a mistake. He sneaks into the Harrington Pharma archives and miscalculates the guard shifts. He's stuck hiding under an old desk for hours, he's slowly losing hope, he has no way to contact anyone, his legs are cramping and he's exhausted, but then he hears a familiar voice talking with the guard.

"Hi, Tommy. All good? How's Carol and the kids? That's wonderful to hear. I just need to verify some records for dad, it's not a big deal. Have you had your smoke break yet? You can go, stretch your legs. I'll be here for at least half an hour."

Shit. It's Steve fucking Harrington. Eddie tries to stay still and will his muscles to cooperate, and he thinks he's doing a great job, but then-

"You can come out now. He's gone."

Eddie freezes. How the fuck does he know?

Harrington's voice is quiet, urgent. "Damn it, Munson! You have ten minutes tops before he comes back, so stop playing hide and seek with me!"

He manages to get back on his feet, uncertain and wobbly, and when he sees Harrington leaning over the desk, he's half ready for a fight. But the other man doesn't make a move, doesn't call out to anyone. He just hands Eddie a folder, some of them are the files he selected, but some are new. "I added a few that you missed," hisses Harrington and leans into the corridor. "I'll go first, get Tommy to focus somewhere else. You run to the right and pray to anyone willing to listen. And most importantly," he says, and shit, Steve Harrington can sound serious if he wants to!, "I never saw you here. You heard me come in, used the opportunity and bolted. Clear?"

Eddie just nods. He watches as Steve extends his arm, probably grabbing Tommy by the shoulders and leading him to the other end of the building, he sneaks as far as he can and then he madly dashes for the hole in the fence he made earlier.

The files are it. With all the evidence Nancy, Jonathan and Eddie collected, Joyce can finally take that dark empire down. Eddie is there every day, watches the trial, but then he hears that there are two witnesses for the prosecution from inside the company itself.

It's Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley.

He sees Steve give him a wink from the stand and he wants to kiss the man. Eddie hears all of it in the following days - how Steve used to date Nancy Wheeler, but then her best friend Barb Holland died due to a mishandled drug trial for her condition by Harrington Pharma. How Nancy broke up with Steve, but even with no chance of rekindling their relationship, he vowed to stop his father for good. How he worked in the company for years, climbed the ladder, managed to make enough connections to get his friend Robin Buckley the position of a PR manager. How she helped him to keep up the charade until the very end.

When the Harrington empire finally falls, Eddie watches quietly as Steve embraces Nancy, whispering to her that she did so well, that Barb would be proud. "We finally did it, Nance. We're finally free."

And then, before Eddie can disappear, Harrington is walking towards him, the mask finally off. He looks younger now, his smile is genuine and Eddie can't help it, his traitorous heart is telling him that this is the single part of the Harrington case he'll never leave behind.

"Hi," says Steve. "I...uh. I just wanted to say sorry for all the nasty things I said before. I had to for my cover, but...I just want you to know, I really appreciate what you did."

Eddie just stares at him, blush forming on his cheeks and a crush blooming in his heart. "I'm pretty sure I just butchered your career," he mutters. "And you're thanking me?"

Steve shrugs. "I mean. I'm out of job, I'm a known whistleblower now and my dad's lawyers will probably try to sue me. So that's not great. But if you want to ease your conscience...take me out for a coffee?" Another wink, another squeeze around Eddie's heart.

Eddie fakes a deep sigh and takes Steve by the elbow. "I don't think a single coffee is going to get rid of all my guilt, but it's a start. Maybe a lunch tomorrow would help my healing process?"

Laughing, Steve nudges his side. "Anything for your peace of mind, Eddie."

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie drabble #steddie au #steddie #detective au #joyce byers #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #robin buckley

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elizzsush · 8 months ago

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The Mask | Jason Todd X Reader

Red Hood X Villain Reader

— in which you, a shy nerdy vigilante/Wayne family obsessed barista- is actually a villain that torments the Red Hood at night.

AU: Soulmate (bc I can)

Rating: Sfw

Note: Y/N is based off of Furina from Genshin bc I thought this would be fun and I saw a prompt somewhere, I think? It’s just my interpretation of it as to not step on anyone's toes!

Also, this isn't really a imagine. It's more of an Idea I was thinking of and needed to get out of my head! So that's why it's kind of not finished? Most of my stuff is WIPs anyway so this isn't really new.

_________________________________

You were a popular villain.

People loved you. Maybe not the theft and distraction you caused but hey- we all have flaws? “I will teach this city the true meaning of Justice!” You’d boldly claim standing on the stage that was Gotham city’s tallest building- scarily close to the edge. “Join me- and together we’ll cleanse this city of its evil and corrupt ways!” You’d state so boldly.

You loved for the attention, the lights- cameras and reporters. That’s why the red hood could only shake his head. Another psychopath spewing their ideology like it should be praised- like it was the absolute truth.

Spoiler alert, it wasn’t.

The world wasn’t black and white enough for an ideology to trump all the others and ‘cleanse this city’. Fuck, not this city- not even close. Gotham was just in too deep. Too much crime, too much of a drug problem or a poverty problem- too much of everything. The joker was a prime example of that. The evil of this city boiled up into one twisted person… Anyway, you were an attention seeker, classic villain profile. Does it for attention- maybe mommy or daddy didn’t give you enough love? It didn’t matter. What happened was you were breaking the law and Jason was still on Bruce’s keep an eye on list. So, he’d keep his hands off the bigger more horrible criminals.

Still sometimes, only sometimes, he'd find himself listening a little too closely to your ideals- Like you believed in the death penalty for Gotham hardest to kill roach: The joker.

So, while Red Hood was chasing you... Well, it'd started off small, you’d steal from the rich of Gotham- sometimes even Bruce Wayne himself. -Those days Jason found himself chasing after you slower, not that he’d admit that. It was a classic Robin Hood situation and Jason… didn’t know how to feel about it. On one hand you were breaking the law, in the other, power to the people. Eat the rich.

Jason knew how it felt to grow up struggling so too see you helping people? It was almost nice.

What annoyed him though was your loud, for the people persona. “I will judge all of Gotham! Batman himself can’t escape my judgment!” Okay, slow down… you were fast and agile, but Batman would be able to catch you. And if Jason really put his back into it, he could too. Still, that never stopped you from making bold claims. It garnered attention, it was bold and daring and just what the people wanted. Your ideal matched up with what so many people were fed up with the batman for.

Eventually your behavior began to escalate. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep the Bats eyes from you. “This is a cult...” He muttered while he hides away on the roof of an abandoned building you holed your followers up in for a speech.

“My loyal follower!” You’d greet them with a smile and a bow. You’d put in stage performances. Sometimes with Jason, except he never knew, and the performance was just you and him fighting on the stage. Most days, some days it seemed it was just you acting and being alive on that large stage. Others you were preaching your words to the cult your loyal followers. You were building an empire and catching the attention of other criminals.

An empire that while he agreed with, went against the bats no kill rule. The longer you stood on that stage the less safe from the bat you were.

And no matter how much he wanted to agree with you, a small part of him still wanted... something from batman. You would be an issue.

“How much longer do I have to do this…?”

Red hood was no detective, but he was raised by the greatest one. So, while he was lacking in that department compared to the rest of his family (Even if it was just by a smidge.) He still noticed how after a speech or a fight- your smile, no, your persona dropped.

It was a persona you probably garnered for attention.

but still...

So how…

…That just didn’t make sense.

“Can I have your autograph…? Please?” A civilian would ask shyly, hiding behind a Batman themed phone case with a Robin themed charm hanging from that same phone.

The worst part of it all? You didn’t ask for the Red Hoods autograph. You asked for Jason Todd’s autograph, you were a fan of the Wayne’s. Gotham's golden family. No actually, it was the way you jumped up and down eagerly when you thought he was far enough way and did a dumb victory dance.

He sighed and leaned against the alleys stone wall as he watched you leave. A sense of worry invaded his mind as he watched you in your nerdy and totally lame Superman shirt walking away. All while staring at your phone.

He was surprised you recognized him. He was never in the public spotlight- maybe here and there when he was younger. Not now, not anymore. His death and how vague it was left question. Ones people didn’t ask when he wasn’t there, dangling in front of them like bait to a fish, they’d ask why and how and while they had a cover up: One the bat, the world's greatest detective made up. It still was messy. You must be a real fan.

He wasn’t even sure if that was really you…

It had to be though, there was no mistaking it. So, with your civilian name in his head, he walked back home.

“…so… lonely…” `

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fancyfeathers · 2 months ago

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Red Wine and Bullet Holes

Yandere!Villain/Crime Lord Jason Todd x Robin!Darling

Yandere!Batboys as Villains with Robin!Darlings AU Masterlist

T//W- torture, extreme death/murder, grief/mourning, drugging, implied brainwashing, implied r*pe/n*ncon, implied housewife kink

Yandere!Crime Lord Jason Todd who was never found stealing the Batmobile’s tires and never became Robin, who continued to paves his way in the world of crime because he learns stealing car parts won’t provide what he needs to survive forever. He leaned the mentality of kill or be killed, climbing his way through the crime world anyway he has to until he is the one on top.

Yandere!Crime Lord Jason Todd who destroys most of the Penguin’s and Black Mask’s criminal empires, and he controls a majority of Gotham’s organized crime. He controls the drug industry, the black market, organ trafficking, all of that and more in the palm of his hand.

Yandere!Crime Lord Jason Todd who meets his darling when he is at an upscale restaurant and club, making a deal with a potential partner from Bludhaven. His darling is there with one of her so called sisters, celebrating hey twenty first birthday.

Yandere!Crime Lord Jason Todd who offers to buy her a drink while she is sitting at the bar with her sister, waiting for their table, and practically any other girl would have accepted…

“Ya… no thanks.”

Yandere!Crime Lord Jason Todd who has not experienced rejection in a very long time and can only watch as she orders herself a drink, telling the bartender to put it on her uncle’s tab who is paying for this little girl’s night out. Bruce Wayne.

Yandere!Crime Lord Jason Todd who does get to talk to his darling and her sister at the bar, finding out her sister is the adopted daughters of Bruce Wayne and meanwhile she was his former ward when she was a minor.

Yandere!Crime Lord Jason Todd who tries to flirt with his darling and she rejects him completely and right when the girls are called for their table, she leans over and whispers in his ear…

“Besides I doubt you would want to date a future lawyer with a moral code like mine given the… business you are in.”

Yandere!Crime Lord Jason Todd who is stunned as she gets up and walks away, he immediately asks one of his men with him to get information on her, everything they can find and have it on his desk before he gets back.

Yandere!Crime Lord Jason Todd who reads everything about his darling, saying she could be a problem, but really deep down he is enamored by her. After all she is not Bruce Wayne’s biological niece, he was just a good friend of her father before he went mad, she is the daughter of Harvey Dent, Two Face. She is a law student at Gotham City University and commutes and has lived with her uncle since he took her and her younger sister in, he didn’t get to meet her biological sister at the bar due to her being too young.

Yandere!Crime Lord Jason Todd who sends one or two of his men to spy on her, take videos of her discreetly and send them to him.

Yandere!Crime Lord Jason Todd who gets butterflies in his stomach when he sees a video one of his men sent him of her punching a college boy who was harassing her, so hard in fact that if she put a little more weight behind it she would have taken out one of his teeth.

Yandere!Crime Lord Jason Todd who meets his darling again when she is attempting to take down one of his shipments as the vigilante known as Phoenix, along with being accompanied by the current Robin. She would have succeeded if she didn’t see one of the men aiming a gun at Robin and she went running to push Robin out of the way, taking the bullet instead to the shoulder.

Yandere!Crime Lord Jason Todd who lets Robin get away when his darling yells at her to run and get help. He has his darling gagged, tied up, and her wound is dealt with before he has her knocked out and thrown into the trunk, after all he can’t have her dying before he interrogates her.

Yandere!Crime Lord Jason Todd who wants to interrogate her personally, he has a feeling in his gut about her, she just feels too familiar. That glare she has, he has seen it before.

Yandere!Crime Lord Jason Todd who beats her to the point where even a solider would be spilling everything they know but instead she just spits her blood mixed saliva at his feet. Despite her hatred for him, she is just so pretty that he is sure that if she wasn’t such a pain that he would have her on his arm as a piece of arm candy… or maybe he can condition her into it.

Yandere!Crime Lord Jason Todd who kisses her, and when she tries to fight back against him he breaks her arm mid kiss, but he just kisses away her tears and swallows her screams of pain as he grips her broken arm and continues having his fun.

Yandere!Crime Lord Jason Todd who gets away with what he did to her by threatening to kill her when Batman shows up rescue her, he won’t actually kill her and the Batman knows this, but he won’t risk loosing her, so he lets him go to have her back, taking her back to the Batcave to get medical treatment.

Yandere!Crime Lord Jason Todd when he sees his darling in person again when she is out running errands, but she just happens to have a broken arm and a few stitches and when he asks what happened she just tells him that she was in a car accident, a drunk driver hit her. Despite her words he cannot shake the suspicion that she could be that vigilante he encountered just a few nights prior, but that couldn’t be, she was a college student.

Yandere!Crime Lord Jason Todd who feels sick to his stomach when he watches the news to see his darling has died in an undisclosed accident, her grieving family wanting to keep it private. She has disappeared for a few months before hand, along with that the appearances of Phoenix have become less, but there was no way she could have been the vigilante, she was dead.

Yandere!Crime Lord Jason Todd who attends the funeral, but watches from a distance, he does not want to upset any of her family with his presence, but after her burial he goes to her gravestone, absolutely covered in flowers, and he only adds to the pile with a bouquet of roses.

Yandere!Crime Lord Jason Todd who in the following weeks cannot shake the suspicion that she could have been the vigilante, so just to soothe his thoughts he has one of his men run a test with some of the vigilante’s blood he got on a knife from interrogating her. After all it’s just to calm his mind and there is no way-

It was a 100% match

Yandere!Crime Lord Jason Todd who feels his head reeling at this revelation and also a need for revenge because he knows what killed her was something to do with her nightly activities.

Yandere!Crime Lord Jason Todd who digs his nails into the criminal underworld to find out who did this and that is when he comes across a piece of camera film, he watches it and he can feel a surge of emotion rushing through him as he sees the Joker torturing her and there are months worth of footage. The ways she was tortured were things even his worse man would have never had done, he feels so incredibly hateful in that moment.

Yandere!Crime Lord Jason Todd who has his men turn the city upside down in order to find the Joker and when they do Jason wants to do everything that the clown did to his darling, but he knows they don’t have the time so he does what he can in the short amount of time he has before either the police, Joker’s men, or the Batman shows up. When the Joker’s body is found it to so messed up that they can’t release any evidence to the public.

Yandere!Crime Lord Jason Todd who still stays more violent than usual even with the clown gone because it’s not good enough, no one was there to save her or rescue her, not any of her sisters, or the Batman, and-

Yandere!Crime Lord Jason Todd who just shuts down when he sees his darling again, in her vigilante gear, catching a thief in the middle of the night. He was driving back to his penthouse when he caught a glimpse of her throwing the thief’s body to the cops before swinging off. There is no way she is alive, he saw her body at the funeral, she was dead.

Yandere!Crime Lord Jason Todd who hunts down his darling and finally when his men drag her unconscious body into his penthouse he feels such relief when he unmasks her and it is indeed her. He shoots his men then and there when they ask if he wants her disposed of, how dare they suggest such a thing.

Yandere!Crime Lord Jason Todd who had thoughts of kidnapping her and keeping her as his since the moment they met, he as a room all ready for her, dresses, expensive furs, shoes and jewelry that would cost a small fortune.

Yandere!Crime Lord Jason Todd who undresses his darling and makes a bath for her, and he personally rolls up his sleeve and washes her unconscious body, getting all the sweat and blood off of her.

Yandere!Crime Lord Jason Todd who towel dries her himself and brushes out her hair before carrying her to her bedroom and getting her dressed in a little red nightgown and tucking her into bed, treating her like a porcelain doll, or maybe a caged bird would be a better word to use given the cuffs on her wrists and her ankles, chaining her down to the bed, to keep her from running away and in this case hurting herself or getting herself killed again.

Yandere!Crime Lord Jason Todd who despite his darling’s hatred towards him and his criminal life begins hardcore conditioning her into a more docile role, because maybe as his spoiled housewife she won’t get herself killed. After all who would want to play hero when they are being kissed and held by an attractive man who hand feeds her chocolates from Paris, never mind that she is constantly drugged out of her mind, never quite lucid enough to fight against him, especially when he kisses her on the bed, one hand pulling her closer and the other hand going up her dress…

#yandere dc headcanon #yandere dc x reader #yandere dc #yandere batfam #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #yandere batfamily #yandere jason todd x reader #yandere jason todd

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windmill-ghost · 2 years ago

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Concept for ur batman au: onomatopoeia but nicknamed matt for short. Matthew for long.

I think he would hate Matthew, but that would not stop people from calling him that.

#im enamored with the idea of him being nonverbal but it would mean he is SO beleaguered #'your name is hard to say' HE KNOWS. ITS HARDER FOR HIM BUT HE STILL MANAGED TO COMMUNICATE IT. AND FOR WHAT.#wg creates #wayne empire au

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brucewaynehater101 · 6 months ago

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AU idea:

Amnesiac Bruce Wayne, who doesn't know Jason is dead, keeps going to this diner where freshly post-revival Jason Todd is.

At first, Jason reads about Bruce's condition and scoffs. He thinks it's made up or all a plot of the old man's. He ignores the headline and gets to work building his empire. While doing that, he finds this small, run-down diner and allows himself to take a break.

When Bruce walks into the diner, Jason is sweating bullets. He looks vastly different from his fifteen year old self and there's no way Bruce will immediately recognize that his dead son is actually alive, but Jason's still nervous. He becomes more nervous when the man sits next to him at the counter top.

But... They just chat. Jason's pissed and warring with his different emotions, but Bruce doesn't know it's Jason. Somehow, that makes it a little easier.

It's painful when Bruce keeps talking about his sons, though (ye can add a misunderstanding here that Jason mistakes the pride for 15 year old Jason as the pride for sixteen year old Tim. He does eventually realize Bruce means Jason, though).

Jason finds himself returning to that diner every week. He's still setting up as Red Hood, but he keeps going back to that counter top. Bruce always shows up.

Jason talks about his dad. He talks about the pain, the anger, and the bitterness. He does find it funny that Bruce is unknowingly giving advice about himself.

And Bruce talks about his two kids, Dick and Jason. He mentions his fears of not trying enough and his difficulties to get his intentions across. He talks about how much he loves them and misses them when they're away.

Just Bruce and Jason (or "Peter") meeting for lunch once a week

#bruce wayne #jason todd #dc au #and poor tim had to stop being robin [which makes him lose his connection to the waynes in the meantime] :)#no worries. dick's working on how to restore bruce's memory... even though bruce is lighter and happier than he's been since jason died #let jason heal my gods

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piratefishmama · 1 year ago

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i feel like Modern Steddie would make an amazing 'The Proposal' AU.

like... Steve being originally from somewhere like Italy, and he's technically an immigrant although he's lived there forever, he's always been super on it with his visa renewals, but he's also a boss bitch high up Editor-in-Chief at a book publishers in New York an he ropes Eddie into a fake marriage to get a green card when he maybe forgot about his visa application needing him to stay in the country for a hot sec.

sue him, his memory has always been a bit shit! His mother used to say it had to be because he backed himself right down the stairs as a baby and bumped his lil noggin on every step on the way down.

probably correct. surprisingly he didnt die.

and Eddie is his deeply overworked assistant with dreams of being an editor, some might call him Steve's shadow, because he's always just kinda. there. like an off putting prop in the corner that looms there until he's summoned. He gets Steves coffee, answers his emails, reads submissions, gets him snacks and migraine meds at 2am when Steve cant sleep etc.

kinda wants to see Steve get hit by a bus, or at train. Whichever makes the most mess with the lowest chance of survival.

He hasnt seen his family in forever. (family being Wayne and the Hawkins lot), he's not rich, his family dont own some fancy business empire, they're just... really good down to earth people and Steve...

Steve who grew up with ice cold parents, who didn't really get the whole family experience, who never understood why Eddie could possibly want to spend christmas with his family instead of running around for him on christmas eve because ew family, is thrown for all the loops ever when they not only welcome him with open arms, but treat him as though he is actually family.

it's wild, and it's warming his cold heart, and oh no why is Eddie Munson actually charming, what the shit?

Is he in love with his fake Fiance?

Maybe. can he still go through with the fake marriage?

maybe not.

#prompt ideas #it's such a good au #so much potential

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mxspikedfruitcake · 2 months ago

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AU where Bruce isn't Batman. But he is Matches Malone.

Instead of wanting to fight off criminals on the streets, he leans more into being a detective, which Alfred is much more receptive to, up until he learns exactly what Bruce classifies as a "detective".

So, he still went into training to hone his mind or whatever, only to return and take the identity of the first crime boss he could find who died, who just so happened to be one Matches Malone.

He obviously can't be seen as Bruce Wayne doing shady dealings with any rising villains, but nobody would bat an eye at some random mob boss doing it.

Making honest business with the Penguin, Black Mask, and Two-Face, funding Ivy with plant reservations so she doesn't go psycho, and getting Killer Croc on his feet, stealing pretty much everyone's henchman for himself, bribing cops to lock away the richer criminals, he still saves people and tries his best to clean up Gotham, but not through blatant crime-fighting.

The Commissioner and Matches still work together often, though under very different circumstances. Any violent criminals who try to break the structure of Matches' empire usually end up in custody by the end of the hour, and in return, the Commissioner lets Matches go on any crimes he commits. Not that there's very many, as he's already loaded, and all his crimes usually just involve burning down the bases of any criminals stupid enough to disrupt the House of Cards that Matches as set up. The only other crimes he commits are the very frequent raids on several houses, all of which are his own properties, he just wants to give the more desperate criminals money without them getting suspicious.

It'd be even wilder once Grayson's parents die, as thanks to his connection, Bruce knows who did it before his parents hit the floor. Bruce as always, takes him in, and tells him who did it.

Considering it'd be worse not to tell your kid that you go undercover as a crime boss, Dick gets mad and go hunts him down, incidentally becoming Batman himself. Bruce doesn't mind this, after all, at this point he owned so much of the Gotham underground, it's frankly his duty to let his son clean up any criminals who think they can go rouge.

When Jason dies to a stray criminal named Red Hood, Bruce Wayne decides to play dirty. He "cuts off the shares" with Matches, who then tells all his crime buddies, including ones that need his money, that thanks to Red Hood, he can't afford to fund them. They don't take too kindly to that, and sure enough, the Joker is created by the end of the day, and magically, they get their funding back next week.

And as he collects more and more orphans, they form the legend of Batman, and while everyone thinks Matches isn't scared because he's a badass, it's more so the fact that he's just so proud of his kids. Besides, they'll only shoot at him if he forces them to go to one of his galas, so he's usually safe.

#batman #Bruce wayne #Jason todd #joker #matches malone #dc

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jo-harrington · 1 month ago

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Luminous Beings - Episode 6: Hopeless

Art by @monologichno || Beta Read by @undead-supernova Part of the @eddiemunsonbigbang

Summary: Eddie's ship is gone, he might be hunted by the Empire...everything seems hopeless. Now what?

Word Count: 7.1k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x OFC (Thalia Trieste)

Warnings/Themes: Star Wars AU, Fluff, Angst, Humor, Romance, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Miscommunication, Distrust, Mention of Alcohol and Substance Use, Minor Canon Inaccuracies/Adaptation, Galactic Politics, Mention of Death, Vague References to Order 66 and the Jedi Purge, Discussion of the Force, Abstract Spirituality

Note: Big big thanks to August for all of her lovely beta-reading and for striving to make me a better writer with her critical eye. Seriously, you push me to be better.

Thanks again to everyone for reading.

Luminous Beings Masterlist - Jo-Harrington's Masterlist

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Thank you for reading. Enjoy!

Bogano, 10BBY

The first steps out of the Stranger Mantis were disorienting. Eddie always felt that way after a long trip through hyperspace, but more so now. A new planet, a new…everything. Bright suns, fresh air, gentle clouds, and grassy plains as far as the eye could see.

It was a paradise, and it felt like a punishment. Like they'd given up.

Once again, he felt out of control.

There had been a collective sense of mourning aboard the Mantis between himself and his friends. The loss of a ship, the loss of a purpose. They sulked for days. However, they soon realized that everyone aboard—save for Benny, Bob, and Thalia—felt that way.

The first night, one of the kids had cried to her brother about how she missed their family, their friends, and their home. And her brother, only a few years older, had responded with a wisdom that was well beyond his age.

"It's okay," he attempted, trying to soothe her woes. "I miss them, too, but they'd want us to be safe and happy above all else."

So the crew of the Dragonborn felt like they couldn't really complain about missing out on things like scantily-clad dancers and sub-par drinks when these people, these kids, lost practically everything they'd ever known.

Still, as Eddie's eyes scanned over the generally uninterrupted horizon in front of him, he couldn't help but loathe the sense of displacement. He'd always been used to cities. Civilization. Something. Not...whatever this was.

There were huts and large tents big enough to house dozens of people, with a few small, sturdily constructed buildings dotted around the camp and further out in the distance. Short barrier walls around the perimeter were reinforced with sandbags. Big pieces of mechanical equipment, generators and moisture vaporators, were also familiar shapes around the encampment.

It was a stark difference from what he was used to. What any of them might have been used to, surely.

Benny, the good captain that he was, rolled out as much hospitality as he could.

"Alright," he announced as he herded everyone out of the ship. He clapped his hands together excitedly. "Follow me."

He led the group of nervous passengers around and gave them the grand tour. One of the buildings at the edge of the camp closest to the landing pad housed refreshers, and they were nice, but they felt a little sterile. There was soap that didn’t have a scent and cramped shower stalls. Benny said that they were remnants of the Clone Wars, that he had a buddy who was able to help them source everything through surplus dealers.

As the Latero droned on about everything that had been crafted for clone troopers, Eddie remembered how Wayne’s work buddies used to grumble about the war on nights they came over to play sabacc. How the Galactic Senate had allocated insane amounts of credits to war efforts, and just like everything else in the damned galaxy, it was all left to rot once the sham of a war was over and the Empire came to power.

“But hey,” Benny’s laugh broke Eddie from his thoughts. “If we can get a real toilet out of it, instead of shitting in a hole, I’m not complaining."

He showed them an old building at the perimeter. Not a pre-fabricated building like the others, but something more makeshift. Something the crew of the Dragonborn were used to seeing on Bracca, with its mismatched durasteel walls and rickety-looking roof. It was where he and Bob stayed when they were on-planet. Not necessarily traditional living quarters, but certainly a home.

And then, Benny gave them all a home too.

They went, tent by tent, and he welcomed them, all the while narrating about how Bob and Thalia struggled how to set everything up and worried that the beds would be uncomfortable or the sheets and blankets too scratchy. Was Bogano too hot or too cold? Would they be happy here?

Eddie didn’t need Force powers to know that happy wasn’t the right word. Happiness took time. Contentedness? Sure.

"You kids can run around and play to your heart's content." Benny laughed as he spoke to the younger refugees. One set of arms folded across his torso while another arm scratched the back of his head. "Don't know about school...but I'm sure none of you will be too bummed about missing out. I'll let Bob know to scrounge up some holobooks on our next supply run. Otherwise holovids will be your teachers. What could possibly go wrong?"

There were a few swoop bikes tucked behind the structure that housed the refreshers. They were off limits apparently, but Eddie and his friends all gave each other knowing looks; it's not like anyone could stop them from taking a joy ride.

"We'll come up with some sort of chore rotation," Benny explained towards the end of the tour. "I'm your resident chef, though. Used to run a little snack window on Takodana once upon a time. Those pirates get hungry. Speaking of hungry, I hope everyone likes shaak stew. I'll make us all a little food. Think of it as a welcome dinner."

He was about to head back to the ship, but he turned to everyone and held his hands out to them. It was a gesture of sincerity and trust.

"I know it doesn't look like much, but this is what we have to work with for the foreseeable future. I...I'm not the best with words. I should've had one of the others do this, but I drew the short straw. What I wanna say though is...there's nothing you need to worry about anymore. You're home now. And you're safe."

It might've been the force abilities that he apparently had, it might've been the stress of the past week, it might've been that he wasn’t a kriffing idiot.

But Eddie had a hard time believing that.

"What would you say if I told you this feels like home for me?"

"I would ask how long you've been here because this place kind of stinks."

Thalia let out a laugh and took his words as permission to enter the tent.

Eddie was the last of his friends to unpack his meager belongings. Their new living arrangements weren't too bad, actually. Bigger than the bunk room on the Dragonborn, with enough space for their instruments and a charging station for D5-TN, who was currently powered down and sulking in his own way.

The others had taken it upon themselves to start helping around the encampment, but they let Eddie have the time alone.

He should have known there would be a limit to how alone he could truly be. And that Thalia would destroy the distance he’d created between them as he avoided her.

“This is nice.” She looked around the tent. “Nicer than where I’m staying.”

“I didn’t know you were staying,” Eddie huffed.

“Well, I’m sure they’re gonna be looking for a blue-haired force user now,” Thalia ran a hand into her hair and ruffled her curls. He could see the slightest bit of growth at the roots, that muddy brown from his memory. From hers. “So I think I need to lay low for a bit.”

"Well, could you lay low somewhere else?" he groused at her.

"Where's the fun in that? Besides, I have something to ask you."

"Ask me? Or tell me?"

"Both."

"Knew it."

He gestured for her to take a seat on Jeff's bunk, across from him. She sighed deeply as she sat and her whole body shrank in on itself at the small comfort.

The wind blew just outside the tent and the kids shouted to each other in the distance, playing some game, as Eddie and Thalia got reacclimated to each other's presence. There was relative silence for a few moments as they sat and watched each other.

Then Thalia finally spoke.

"You know," she started, looking down at her hands settled neatly in her lap. "I had...a different plan, if you can believe it."

"I don't believe in making plans," Eddie responded after a beat. He sniffed judgmentally and then leaned back in his seat with his arms folded across his chest. "They always end up changing."

Thalia hummed in response, amused. "I had a feeling you were gonna say something like that."

"I'm an open book, sweetheart."

"Uh huh."

"Unlike someone."

"Do you want an apology?"

"For blowing up my ship? For forcing my friends and I to come to this abandoned planet? For ruining our lives?" He nodded. "Yeah, I would, actually."

"I'm sorry," she said solemnly.

He poked a finger in his ear and wiggled it. "Can you say that again? I didn't hear it."

"I'm sorry," she repeated and then lifted a brow expectantly. "That good enough?"

"How about some groveling?"

"You're pressing your luck."

"Then I accept your apology." He held his hand out to her to shake. "And if there's a way for me to get a reimbursement of the credits I left behind on Coruscant trying to save your hide."

"I'll talk to Bob." She chuckled lightly. "Not like there are many places you can spend it here on Bogano, though."

"I'll figure something out." He grinned. "I always do."

There was another stretch of solemn silence.

"The force..." Thalia broke the silence, then took a deep breath. "Works in mysterious ways."

"Why do you say that?" he asked. She paused again, then reached into her jacket and pulled something from where she'd tucked it. Hidden it. She carefully passed it across to him and he felt his eyes widen.

It was a little leather-bound journal; the cover was a deep mahogany and crafted well, with shapes embossed into it and a loosely knitted cord around its middle. Pieces of rough paper were carefully folded and sewn together inside.

Eddie knew it well, because it was his.

"You...where did you get this?"

"Stole it," she teased lightly. "I...I was planning to give it back to you. And I would've if the inquisitors hadn't shown up. I think it would've been a nice goodbye. A real goodbye."

"I thought I lost it," he muttered. "It's been a while since I'd seen it."

"I know." She nodded. "Found it in a camtono while I was organizing the ship. There were all sorts of things inside. Tiny figurines, dice...but this was the thing that caught my eye the most. It felt lost. It was excited for someone to open it again."

"And did you? Open it?"

"I might've," she said slyly.

Eddie eagerly untied the cord and flipped through the long-forgotten pages. He traced his fingers over his own scratchy handwriting inside; stories that he used to write to entertain his friends, little notes and ideas for their games. They'd come up with names and planets that didn't exist and creatures, and he'd lead them through the little made-up adventures to pass the time. Both back home and when they started travelling.

It got boring in space.

"Why a journal?" Thalia questioned. "Why not a datapad?"

He looked over at her and saw the way her mouth quirked at the corners. Not quite a smile, but enough of one.

"Something tells me you already know," he accused lightheartedly.

"Oh yeah?"

"So why ask?"

"Because I'd rather hear the story from you," she assured him. "Than experience it through echoes in the Force."

He looked down at the little book again. He was nervous, but it was an acceptable answer; he could do this...he could tell her.

"My uncle Wane gave it to me," he began. "After my mom died, my dad had a hard time. He loved her but he couldn't handle his...grief, I guess. Wane always said I was just like him...itching to get off planet. But mom was the only thing holding him down. So once she was gone, he didn't really have a reason to stay."

Not even me, he thought bitterly for the millionth time in his life.

"Anyway." He cleared his throat and held up the journal. "Wane took me in. And he says he's a homebody, that he has no interest in doing much more than keeping his head down and sticking to the status quo. But he's just as curious about the galaxy as I am. As Al was. Full of stories that he's heard over the years. Some are fun, others are a little more...cautionary.

"So when he saw me tapping away at my datapad, writing little stories, he marched his ass down to the Terrace and got this for me. Sat me down and told me this...I mean, I guess I know it's true now. But back then it was unbelievable."

He remembered being eight or nine, hearing the story and thinking Wane was just being his usual old coot self.

"This planet...Taris...used to be a bigger metropolis than Coruscant. Skyscrapers and resorts and casinos and pleasure barges. If it wasn't in the Outer Rim, it could've been the Capital of the Old Republic. Took thousands of years to build...and a single year to destroy. All of the people, all of the technology, all of the money couldn't save them. But what did survive? Books. Hand written and printed books, unwanted, deep in the undercity. Along with the few survivors.

"So he said to me, 'Ed, don't you trust any of your important thoughts to a datapad. You better write them all down.' And he handed me this journal, and the rest is history. Honestly, I don't think that I would've ever gotten the courage to leave Bracca if it wasn't for Wane and this journal. Everything I ever thought was important to me, I put in here."

He stopped at a page that had his rough little sketches of a ship and the name Dragonborn scrawled across the top. He felt his eyes sting with unshed tears, then he looked up at Thalia and forced a wry smile.

"So, did I tell the story better than your...Force Echo?"

Her fingers twitched on her lap, and in his mind's eye, Eddie could see her reach across to comfort him. He almost wanted her to. But she stayed on Jeff's bed and simply stated, "You absolutely did."

"Why, thank you." He held his arms out and did a little bow in his seat, hamming it up to try and push past the heavy emotions that lingered. "So...what does this have to do with the force working in mysterious ways?"

Thalia scoffed and rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath before stating, "You know, there have been plenty of scholars in the history of the galaxy that have questioned whether we truly have freewill. Or if there is some predetermined fate that the Force keeps us moving towards."

Fate? Well, that was bantha shit in Eddie's opinion.

Still, he asked her, "What do you think?"

Of course, she avoided the question in the way only she could.

It seemed it was her turn to tell a story.

“The Jedi..." She paused in thought. "They take...took...children from their homes when they were very young, to begin teaching them the ways of the Force very early. To teach them to follow the light. And to prevent them from forming an attachment to their homes or their families. For some, that meant they were taken as babies. For me? I was...old enough to remember. Not much. But faces and names and places. Feelings. Things.

“The first time I came here…well, that’s a story in and of itself. I came across another survivor of the Purge, who urged me to try and find Master Cordova. I hired Benny and Bob to take me to a remote planet no one had heard of, but once I got here…everything clicked. Everything felt right. I could feel Master Cordova’s signature in the force. He might still be missing, but his presence is here if you know where to look. I could feel the planet itself urging me to reconnect with the force, taking me on a journey of self-discovery. Most of all, I could feel the long-forgotten memories of my childhood return.

“Bogano reminds me of the home I remember. Fields and marsh mud and soft wind…and nothing. So much nothing. So much death.”

Eddie felt a chill down his spine.

“Death? You feel…death here?” he asked, but she ignored it.

"One of the last things I remember, before the masters came, were letters. Paper letters. Electronics were shoddy at best, but the colony was safe enough for children to run around alone. My mother handed me a letter to take to my aunt who lived by Olaris Spaceport."

Eddie frowned.

Olaris...why was that familiar?

"You know why," Thalia responded, as if she could hear his thoughts.

"I'm gonna need you to stop doing that, sweetheart." He scoffed. "Or teach me how to stop you."

"We'll get to that," she said dismissively, then leaned closer and grabbed Eddie's hand. "You know why Olaris sounds familiar. Think about it. Really think. You know the answer."

Olaris. He let the word bounce around his thoughts for a moment. At first he could hear the echo in Thalia's voice.

It quickly changed to his uncle's, in the tone he used when he spun tales for Eddie's entertainment. Stories to get him to fall asleep on those long nights when he missed his parents.

The Sinking City. Olaris Spaceport. The Verdant Marshes.

Marsh mud and soft winds and death.

He looked down at his journal and muttered, "You're from Taris."

Thalia smiled sadly.

"Your uncle tells you a story and gives you a journal to write in. Paper to write on. Because of a half-destroyed planet where technology failed them. You write down all of your dreams, and one day those dreams take you halfway across the galaxy where you meet someone from that planet. Someone who tells you that...that you're something special. Something worth protecting. Something worth saving.”

"Bob said you'd done research on me," Eddie whispered.

"There are some things that you can't find out just by slicing, Eddie," she whispered back with a nervous smile. "I think...I think that's fate."

He pulled his hand away from hers and stood. He paced the length of the tent, mind racing as he tried to find some flaw in her story. Flaw in her logic. He pivoted to face her many times, only to keep pacing, unable to find some point to bring up.

"I didn't listen when you offered to bring me to Bogano. But you blew up my ship and brought me here anyway.” He pointed at her. "How is that fate? You forced me to come here."

"I didn't know the inquisitors were going to show up!" Thalia threw her hands in the air. "I was going to try one last ditch effort to get you to come, with the journal. But they beat me to it. Regardless of what I had planned—of what you had set your mind on—we ended up here."

"But you blew up my ship!"

"But I blew up your ship!" She got to her feet abruptly and closed the distance. She grabbed the lapels of his jacket to get him to stop pacing and shook him. "Do you want another apology? Or a smack in the face? I'm trying to ask you something important here, Eddie. I’m trying to ask if you want to learn the ways of the force.”

What?

“But you're too kriffing stubborn,” she continued, all the while still shaking him. “All roads led you here. To this minute. To this planet. To me. Whether you wanted it to or not."

"Fine!" he shouted at her.

"Fine! And you're here now."

"And I'm here!"

"So do you want me to teach you how to harness the Force? Or not? You big...scruffy...stupid...moof-milker!"

"Yes, I would like that a lot actually!"

"Gah!" She shoved him with all her might, sending him back a few steps. There was fire in her eyes as she seethed at him. It was funny. It was cute. "I knew you would say no! I hate you so much. You're such a little—"

"Thalia!" Eddie took a step towards her but she kept on yelling. "Thalia! I said yes!"

She went silent immediately, shoulders heaving as she caught her breath.

"You did?" she asked after a beat. She straightened her shoulders and ran a hand through her hair, trying to compose herself. "You did."

“Against my best judgement, yeah.” He huffed a bit of a laugh. “I guess I believe in fate after all.”

“Great.”

"Good."

"Good." She nodded and then headed out. "We'll get started in the morning then. Meet me at the edge of camp, by the vaporators, after breakfast."

And once she was gone, Eddie really let it all sink in. Let it all hit him.

What the hell had he just agreed to?

Eddie Moonsun and routines had, historically, never really gotten along.

He'd always been late for his classes at the Training Institute back on Bracca, rarely did his homework with any sort of timeliness. Once he was the Captain of his own ship, he knew not to delude himself into thinking he would grow up or take any more responsibility. He was going to be a great smuggler, sure, and his friends relied on his leadership to succeed, but that didn't mean he needed to wake up early every morning. Or adhere to any sort of schedule.

The only time that he could be considered reliable to stick to a schedule was when he promised to deliver something to a client on a certain date. That was just because money was involved.

So, it shouldn't have been a surprise to anyone, least of all to Eddie, that he was hopeless when it came to the expectations of routines that Thalia set for him.

He was late to meet up with her after lunch. He and Benny had been discussing a plan to replace the Dragonborn when he realized. He'd run across camp, interrupting the small group of kids that Thalia guided through meditation.

Their eyes all popped open in unison, giggling at his flustered appearance. Hair disheveled, out of breath, cheeks flushed.

"Sorry, I thought it was just going to be the two of us, sweetheart," he apologized as Thalia pulled him aside.

"They need to learn the basics," she explained. "Grounding themselves, their abilities. Learning to control them. You...it's going to be a little different. You're older."

"I'm still a kid at heart."

She laughed. "Oh I don't doubt that.”

Then she explained what it was she expected of their time training together:

Wake up, walk the perimeter of the camp—some kind of patrol perhaps?—breakfast, chores, lunch, meditation with the kids, dinner, then bed.

"What about fun?" he questioned when she told him.

"What about fun?" Her brows shot up in surprise.

"You didn't give us any time for...I don't know...playing sabacc or reading, or...anything!" He threw his arms up in the air. "What about lightsaber training?"

"What about lightsaber training?"

"Stop repeating what I say!"

"You're not going to start with a lightsaber." Thalia scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Younglings don't get a lightsaber for...a few years at least."

"What?" Eddie screeched. "I have to wait a few years?"

"If you even get one." Thalia grabbed him as he tried to walk away from her. He mumbled expletives under his breath. "You need to learn how to channel the force first. Then to control your abilities. Then we can talk about a lightsaber."

He looked over her shoulder at the group of kids, all sitting restlessly, and he wondered if they would get a lightsaber eventually. Or now. Would this be different if he'd been found at their age?

He let the thought roll around in his head for a second, let it simmer with the doubt inside of him. When he'd agreed to this, he supposed he'd gotten caught up in the novelty of it. Be taught the ways of a Jedi? Become a hero? Sure. That was an easy yes. But how could he be one? He was just...a scoundrel. A no one.

"What if you were wrong?" Eddie asked abruptly. "I...I don't have...I can't move things with a wave of my hand or feel any echoes. You said you had a list? What if...if my name was on it by mistake?"

"I'm not wrong," Thalia insisted.

"But what if?"

"I'm not," she repeated. "But if I am...well, we just have to find out in the first place, right?"

She gave him a knowing, smug look and waited for him to agree.

"I guess," he said reluctantly.

She took a step forward and took his hands in hers, then looked deep into his eyes with a sincerity he hadn't known in anyone outside of his uncle and his friends. It was shocking, especially coming from her.

"I believe in you, Eddie," she muttered gently. "I hope I can help you believe in yourself."

He didn't know how to respond. So he just nodded.

She stepped back, pulling him along with her. "We just have to start. So, let's go."

She led him over to the group and made him sit, legs crossed, amongst them.

Meditation was difficult.

Day after day, he simply sat there amongst the kids, waiting for something to happen. Anything. To the point where he was starting to get desperate.

He wasn't really sure what he should've been doing; he looked around at the others. Max's hands rested on her knees, Will kept his eyes closed, and El was practically buzzing with energy even though she herself remained perfectly still. The atoms around her shifted imperceptibly, or so it seemed.

But for Eddie? Nothing worked.

He couldn't stay still enough, keep his eyes closed for long enough, or stay in one position. There were too many noises, too many feelings, too many bodies near him.

And the frustration he felt over failing at the simplest activity led to more failure and discontent with everything else expected of him. He stayed up late every night with worry, slept in every morning, missed all of the one-on-one time that Thalia had planned. He grumped and groused, threw insults at everyone who could take it. It happened to the point where he'd even pissed Hop who was apparently El’s adoptive father. El, the so-called force protege.

He even began to annoy his friends.

"You're being a real piece of bantha shit, Ed," Jeff called him out when he'd grumbled through chores for the 3rd day in a row. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Eddie hissed.

D5-TN rolled by, honking and whistling in a way that almost sounded like Eddie's own grumbling. It earned laughs from the rest of the crew of the Dragonborn—former crew, that is—but Eddie simply kicked the back of Dustin's can-shaped body and stormed off.

He walked.

And walked.

Past the edge of the camp, past the small body of murky water that he and Thalia were supposed to meet every morning but never did, past the series of machines and satellites that Bob had erected to pick up any stray comms.

Until he was well and truly alone for the first time in...well, had he ever been this alone?

Eddie observed his surroundings. The small outline of the camp from the direction that he came and, up ahead, a spire of stone cut through the burning, setting twin suns. He closed his eyes and savored the warmth of it on his face, smelled the sweet grasses and peaty soil around him. Little critters jumped and chittered around him—boglings—but it was generally peaceful. Quiet.

He let instinct control his body, let himself fall to the ground with his legs crossed and hands rested on his knees. He breathed deeply, tried to focus on...focus on nothing. Wasn't that what Thalia instructed them all to do?

Breathe deeply, clear their minds until they were the only ones there. Push out all of the distractions of the outside world, then they might find the light within them.

But what light was there in Eddie? He couldn't feel that within him. When he thought of the force, when he thought of the Jedi...he thought of the heroes of his childhood. He thought of the austere monks that could move things with their mind and preached peace and justice and balance. Even Thalia, the self-proclaimed not-Jedi, was surrounded by calm.

He was...he was chaos personified. He was wild and unpredictable. He was always looking for the next place. He was restless. He was less than. He could never be like that. Wise and powerful and serene. It was simply not him.

"Is that what you think about yourself?" Eddie's eyes popped open and shouted in surprise at Thalia's sudden interruption of his...well, it wasn't really meditation, was it? "Probably not," she answered his thoughts again.

"Stop that!" he growled at her.

"No," she scoffed and dropped to the ground before him, knees almost touching his. "It's fun to mess with you." He refused to look at her. "Oh, come on, don't tell me you didn't try and mess with me before either. I know you enjoyed it."

"I don't like having the privacy of my mind invaded," he spat at her.

"I'm not reading your thoughts, per se," she explained. "Some people can. But I'm simply feeling the way you interact with the world around you. And you were projecting a lot of...self-doubt."

"I told you I didn't think this force thing was for me," he snarked. "Of course I doubt myself."

She rolled her eyes.

"Why are you so hell-bent on this?" he questioned.

"Because you're barely even trying, and you're already quitting."

"I can't do what the others can. I can't even meditate."

"Everyone is different." She reached across and poked him, hard, in the chest. "Did I, or did I not make that clear when I explained that I wasn't given the opportunity to be a Jedi? I'm not a soldier. I couldn't...wave a lightsaber around and take a life. But that doesn't mean I couldn't do other things."

"Like what?" he scoffed. "Your little mind tricks. Your little force echoes. Your little...memory walks."

"Yes."

"How useful."

"It is useful. It's a gateway. It's how I found out how to do more, how to be more. How to redeem myself. How to be this. How to find you."

"And once again I say, I'm useless. I'm nothing."

Thalia sighed again, but closed her eyes this time.

"Listen, I'm no teacher," she began, but Eddie was quick to interrupt her.

"Well, don't look at me. I barely paid attention in class."

She ignored him and continued. "That doesn't mean I'm going to give up on you." Her eyes opened and stared deeply into his. "Those kids? They could be the next Jedi Order. They could be the ones that take down the empire, protect the galaxy. But doesn't that just put us right back where we started? A Jedi Order that doesn't care to do things the right way? One that values soldiers over...peace? I can't do that to them. I need to protect them from that.

"But you, Eddie...you're...nothing. You're a blank slate and a loose canon, and you don't fit in any one slot because you aren't meant to. If the Jedi didn't come and find you, it's because you didn't fit their mold. And that's a good thing. Maybe that's what we need right now to save the light that is left.

"A single spark of courage," she concluded, almost reciting some quote she knew from her past life. "Can ignite the fires of hope and restore peace across the galaxy. We are that spark. You are that spark."

His eyes darted between hers, a warm feeling building in his chest at her words.

"You know," he muttered. "You might find a career in motivational speeches since Star Tours isn't gonna end up working out for you."

Thalia snorted and gently pushed against his shoulder. Then she took his hands in hers and told him to match her breathing.

Breathe. In. Out. Breathe.

"The Jedi," Thalia explained as she wrapped a scrap of cloth around his head to cover his eyes, "were focused on these higher realms of thought. Find the light within and suddenly the whole universe opens up for them. One being dies and they become one with the force, part of a greater whole. Fulfill their destiny to strengthen the force. Which is true!

“But, it didn't ground them into reality. In fact, they were so focused on the rest of the force that they even went without themselves. They clung to their emptiness, convinced themselves it was superior. No emotions, no attachments. No fear, no love. And when it was time for them to face reality, they were unprepared to deal with the fall they took."

"I don't see why that means I need to keep my eyes closed, sweetheart," Eddie muttered as she tied the cloth tighter.

They stood at the edge of camp, late at night. Everyone else was asleep, even the droids, but they were wide awake and training. A small warming fire was glowing nearby, but they were almost entirely bathed in the darkness of night. The only other light they had was the star-filled sky above them.

It made the blindfold almost doubly-redundant.

"Because you're the opposite. You’re…unique. You’re you, and you feel so much. When you try to meditate, you can't stand the thought of finding the light within yourself." Eddie tried to protest but she stopped him. "And that's good, for what we want. It means you're inclined to the Living Force."

He could practically hear the unspoken like me in her voice.

"And what does that mean?"

"The Living Force is exactly what it sounds like. All things living. All life is unique and special and part of the greater whole already. We live our destiny. To live, before we become one with the force, is a gift.”

On and on she went, and he could feel her pacing around him; she explained everything she expected from him calmly and in great detail, but didn’t dumb it down or condescend to him at all.

They were all incredibly confusing concepts, and Eddie made a few self-deprecating jokes about thinking it was only as simple as sword fights and good vs evil. But Thalia was patient with him, and explained how the Living Force affected those things. It was eye-opening, pun intended, and it made him more eager and excited to finally find where his strengths in the force lay.

When she got to the end, she took one of his hands in hers and settled the other on her chest, right over her heart.

“What are you doing?” He tried to tug his hand away, to pull it to his own chest but she held it there steadily.

“These are the first steps,” she explained. “But we need to jumpstart your training. I had hoped getting you up early before the rest of camp was awake, you’d be able to feel the little changes in the world as everything came to life for the day—”

“I’m not a morning person.”

“—but you aren't a morning person so we need to try a different approach. This is it. We get you to recognize how the living force manifests in me, then we branch out to the rest of the camp. And eventually…eventually you’ll be able to find it within yourself too.”

“Again I ask, why the blindfold?”

“Your eyes can deceive you. Sight is both the strongest and weakest sense. You won’t truly feel what it is that you need to feel if you keep relying on what you see.”

“That…” Eddie let the thought mull around his head for a moment. “…makes sense.”

He could hear the smile in Thalia's voice when she said, “Glad you’re finally seeing things from my perspective."

"Don't expect it to happen again."

"Uh-huh. Now, I want you to feel. Feel the physical aspects of me as I stand here in front of you. With you. And then we can build from there.” She squeezed one hand, and then pressed the other hand further into her chest.

He took a deep breath. Once, twice. Tried to sync his breathing along with hers like they'd done the other day, so he could focus on what he felt.

The steadiness of her pulse beneath his fingers, the stitches of her jacket that indented into his palm, her unexpected calluses that brushed against the back of his hand. She was solid and real and tangible in his grasp. She felt like Thalia, which seemed a little obvious since she was Thalia...but there was just something intrinsic that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

It felt the way it did when he kissed her. Calm and bright. Quiet and powerful. Human. Alive. Here with him, here for him.

He'd been a little shit to her, but she had been there for him. He couldn't deny that. She was right, the small little things that connected them. Maybe it wasn't fate in the way that you would think of it, but she hadn't given up on him. Hadn't given up on trying to save him. And how many others could he confidently say had done that for him in his life?

She squeezed his hand. He squeezed back.

And then his touch went through her. He reached into her.

She evaporated and he fell forward, stumbling ahead a few steps. He waved his arms frantically, trying to find her; he called her name but got no response.

Panic settled in, shortness of breath and the sudden urge to rip the blindfold off and run away. In fact, his hands had immediately went to his face, fingers gripping the cloth. But, for some reason, he stopped.

Calmness settled over him, deep breathing that wasn't his...but who did it belong to?

He tried calling for Thalia again, to no avail, and then he thought beyond her. Because he wasn't really alone. They were just at the edge of camp. He focused on the crackling of the fire and the distant beeps of machinery, then further beyond that. Dayv's snoring, G'areth farting, Benny checking readings in the cockpit of the Mantis before he went to sleep himself.

There were over a dozen consciousnesses in the depths of sleep; just out of reach, past the edge of his blindfold. He could feel them, practically see them. See their dreams. Nebulous clouds and colors of their minds, of their souls, floating and swirling in innocence and imagination. Pinpricks of light, like the millions of stars above him.

No, not just above him.

Every being in the camp...they were all made of starlight.

Then the stars began to converge, forming shapes around him in his sightless landscape. Until he could see again, see everything. The camp, the fire, the sky above and the planet below. All living creatures, not just the members of their ragtag little party, but the wild creatures that lived beyond the confines of their camp, too. He could even see the millions of electrical signals relaying on D5-TN's motherboard.

Was this it? Was this what Thalia felt? Saw? Was this what she was trying to get him to see too? Was this it? Was this the Living Force?

Was he doing it? He couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe that this was the Force, and that he was doing it...he did it. He had it.

It was overwhelming, and out of his control.

It was exhilarating.

Suddenly, he felt himself being pulled back and the weight of a hand settled back into his. He squeezed first this time, and she squeezed back. Without him taking his blindfold off, she began to take shape before him.

Gleaming and glowing, Thalia's luminous inner starlight formed her gentle smile and her wind-swept curls, the shape of her body and the depth of her soul. She burned and glowed brightly under his touch.

She was beautiful.

Then it was gone as she abruptly reached up and pulled the blindfold from his eyes. He blinked and found her there, tangible and whole and human, in the flesh before him. Even in the low light, he could see the blush that burned her cheeks.

"Alright." She cleared her throat awkwardly. "That's enough for tonight."

She tried to pull her hand away from his but he held fast.

"I did it," he whispered, tears building in the corners of his eyes. "I really...I did it." The defensiveness melted from her posture and she took a step closer, squeezing his hand once again.

"I told you that you could," she insisted. Pride was evident in her voice.

Eddie started rambling, relaying everything to her. The entire experience. He was full of wonder and disbelief as he spoke a mile-a-minute, fumbling over his own words like he couldn't tell her fast enough.

He paused to catch his breath and his eyes darted from her to the camp, then out into the wild and back. It wasn't as vivid as it had been as the blindfold was on, but he could still see the little remnants of energy that emanated from the world around them.

"I just..." He ran a hand into his hair and started laughing. "Is that...well, no wonder you keep reading my mind, sweetheart, if that's what you see all the time."

She let out a chuckle, and opened her mouth to say something. Eddie could sense the snark that was building in her chest, about to come from her lips.

But before the words could escape her, he closed the distance and pressed his lips to hers, arms circling her.

Thalia stiffened in his grasp again, and then settled against him. Unlike the reluctance she showed on Outpost 86, she accepted his embrace this time, accepted his kiss.

Their lips moved together and their hands softly explored of their own volition. The heat between them roared and crackled, like the warming fire beside them. It was hesitant and gentle, but still bright and burning.

He thought about other kisses he'd experienced in his life—shit, he could even sense the vestiges of Thalia's recollection of kisses she'd had in the past—and he decided that he liked that there was something different about this experience with her.

For the first time in his life, this kiss felt like hope.

Next Chapter: Episode 7 - The Force is With Me

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