#Tim thinks it’s so dumb and doesn’t get it

[batsandbirdbrains]

I need Bruce trying to gentle parent Dick as a child. Like maybe Bruce isn’t exactly a good parent but tries. When Dick starts throwing massive tantrums, he just puts Dick in an empty room for time out. This does not stop Dick as he ends up destroying the room despite nothing being in it. When Dick does something Bruce doesn’t approve of, Bruce just says softly “Don’t do that.” Dick does it again. Like I need him trying and failing. Nothing he does works. Then Dick decides to turn that gentle parenting back on Bruce. No whenever Bruce makes him mad, he puts Bruce in a time-out room. Whenever Bruce is being dumb, he just gives him a pout and says “Don’t do that.” Bruce actually does his best to listen to Dick because he thinks it might foster trust or encourage Dick to follow along when Bruce does it to him. It doesn’t really work. Dick still doesn’t listen and now Bruce is being parented by the child he’s supposed to be raising. The only plus is that it calms down Dick’s more violent urges because instead of destroying shit he just sends Bruce away.

Then Dick gets shot, and something in Bruce snaps. There is no more gentle parenting, no more kind words or soft punishments. He needs to make Dick listen, and if that means hurting him, then so be it. He loses sight of the fact that Dick is still a kid, an incredibly traumatized one at that. He still lets Dick parent him, although he’s more snappy about it. Dick stops being soft with him, too, instead telling him harshly to get to bed, threatening to sic Alfred on him, or screaming in his face about how he’s the worst. Somehow they’ve fallen into this horrible dynamic and neither of them know how to get out of it. Dick blames himself for being such a troubled kid, and though Bruce never says it, Dick knows he blames him too. So Dick leaves.

Eventually, over the years their family grows, but Bruce’s softness never really comes back. He’s meaner, more controlling, even downright cruel at times. And one day when the entire batfam is arguing with him over how unreasonable he is, one them snaps and says “Jesus, B, who turned you into such a fucking asshole?” and before Bruce can even think about it, he responds “Dick did.” He closes his mouth in shock, face going ashen while everyone else freezes. The words cut straight into Dick’s heart. He replies with the only words he can think of at the moment “Don’t do that.” He meant for the words to be cold, confident. Instead they came out soft, chiding and pained. Before anyone can say anything else, Bruce turns on his heel and leaves. They all try to follow him to argue more but then stare, confused, as he walks into an empty room, locking the door behind him. He doesn’t come out for a long time.

🥺 rip out my fucking heart why don’t you, damn.

But now I’m just thinking of the scenario with Bruce saying Dick turned him into an asshole, and the whole room freezes.

Jason didn’t expect an actual answer. Tim and Damian thought Bruce would have just chided Jason for his language. Dick thought a Bruce was just going to keep yelling.

But then the way he says, “Dick did” without even thinking about it, without hesitation, it shocks everyone.

And Dick feels like he wants to cry, because sure, he knew he was a pretty fucked up kid. He was troubled. Traumatized. A problem child. But Bruce for the most part had been so patient when he was little. And when Bruce started being an asshole after Dick got shot, it wasn’t like Dick couldn’t fight right back. It was almost like a game, sometimes. But Dick has always felt so guilty about it, because Bruce had been so soft spoken and patient and nice, and then Dick went and fucked him up. Dick ruined him. It’s all Dick’s fault.

Dick has always had that thought in the back of his mind. But he’s never had any real proof that Bruce felt the same.

Now he does. And Dick’s chest feels hollow as he stares at a horrified looking Bruce.

All Dick can manage to say is a soft, desperate, “Don’t do that,” just like Bruce always tried to use with him, before he started using yelling as his go-to response.

Then Bruce turns without saying anything and walks right into an empty room, and Dick feels like he’s going to throw up. He turns too, towards his bike, and he ignores the way his siblings are calling after him. He turns off his comms and rides home, going way too fast, feeling the wind whip around him, and tears blurring his vision until he blinks them away.

When he gets back to his Blüdhaven apartment, he slides in through the window and doesn’t even change out of his costume before he’s puking in the bathroom.

He silences his phone, turns in his security system, and then spends the next hour sitting under the water in his shower, spacing out until the water goes ice cold and he has to get out. Then he crawls into bed, pulls out Zitka from under the pillows to hug to his chest, and buries his head under his pillows. If he doesn’t pay attention to it, he can pretend he’s not still crying because of the guilt.

He stays like that for a long time, not moving. He falls asleep for a while, wakes up in a panic, rinse and repeat.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been, but the next thing he knows, someone is sitting down on his bed next to him, laying a hesitant hand in his back. And he knows it’s Bruce, and it just makes him feel even worse.

“Go away,” he begs, the words muffled under his pillows.

“I didn’t mean it,” Bruce tries to tell him.

“Yes you did,” Dick says miserably. “And it’s true. I know it’s true, you don’t have to pretend it’s not.”

“It wasn’t you who made me an asshole,” Bruce says. “The situation-”

“Caused by me,” Dick argues.

“You were just a child, Dick.” Bruce sighs.

“A horrible, no good, rotten child!”

“Don’t say that about yourself,” Bruce says firmly. “It’s not true, Dick. I don’t care what anyone says, you were not a rotten child. You were just a little boy. I was the adult, and I should have found other solutions that worked for you.”

Dick doesn’t say anything, but he eventually moves out from under the pillows to curl up with his head in Bruce’s lap. Bruce plays with his hair, and the two of them stay quiet for a long time. Neither of them really knows what to say. They’re both still upset. And they’re both awful at dealing with their feelings.

The sadness and anger and guilt they’re feeling from this fight won’t be resolved. They won’t really talk about it. It won’t be talked about without someone else bringing it up, and that won’t happen for a while.

But for now, Bruce is going to comfort his son. And for now, Dick will let him.

[iwanttoshareamorange]

A while ago I read a post about Bruce using weird punishments instead of corporal punishments for his kids so today I would like to submit my childhood punishment

Standing with your nose to the wall

This is especially effective on Dick because it is super boring and he can’t really move or see what’s going on but all the kids hate it

[junkdrawerfan]

I know it’s for the angst and maybe it’s a thing in canon cause comic books. But if the batfamily are just human — Just straight 100% human — then they cannot hide their injuries.

A sprained ankle, once sprained, is easier to sprain. A bruised rib can turn into a fractured rib. A cut can get infected. A bruise can be hiding internal bleeding. All injuries, if ignored, can get worse.

First off. Just to clarify. The reality of the situation is that our very fun fleshy human characters just cannot be getting as hurt as frequently as they do in fics. In the comics, Bruce getting bruised ribs is a sign he is not taking care of himself and is being reckless and dangerous after Jason’s death. This might have changed in modern comics (that’s dumb. Batman doesn’t get hurt because he’s skilled and prepared. If they’ve changed that for shock or vibes, it’s stupid.) but it just can’t be true. The human body doesn’t heal that fast. There is no “magnify the sun to heal faster” tech for the batfamily. It’s one thing if Bruce used magic so they could insta-heal. But he doesn’t like magic either!

Bruised ribs and sprained ankles which seem “not that bad” in a lot of fics can keep a professional athlete from practice for weeks if not months. Let’s not even get into how it can affect a professional during the actual game/race/event.

The batfamily — who must be operating at peak physical fitness and pushing their bodies to the physical limit on top of the rigorous training/working out they do to enhance their skills — must 1) treat their bodies intelligently, 2) have some kind of rest day system so their bodies don’t shut down from the stress and 3) treat every injury seriously and timely to avoid exasperation and unnecessary healing time.

I get its comic books. I get Damian has such perfect awareness of his body he can shift his organs (ew.) to avoid being fatally stabbed. He’s still just a guy! They’re all just guys in super cool futuristic body armor and some neat gadgets.

(Side note: That body armor has gotta have some kind of kinetic dispersion system like Black Panther’s to keep the bruises minimal. Which means that body armor has to be good at stopping knives and guns from piercing the human flesh underneath. Which means that body armor cannot have any obvious flaws or weaknesses like only the cape is bulletproof and short shorts revealing the femeral artery!

(What I mean is maybe Dick and Jason had some like flesh colored armor leggings. Please let me live in delusion!)

Plus there has to be under layers. The color pattern top might be spandex or some kind of colored Kevlar-like fabric, but there must be special under garments, jock straps, compression shorts, ankle and wrist wraps. Something! Just Kevlar against bare skin would be impossible. Think of the rash! The sweat!There must be some kind of sweat-slicking layer or something that keeps you cool while you exert yourself running around a massive city like Gotham*. Otherwise they’d pass out from overheating!)

And since they’re just guys, when they get injured it is a big deal! They cannot hide their injuries, especially if they’re working with others. Injuries mean physical limitations which means your teammates have to pick up the slack. If your teammates don’t know they have to pick up the slack, not only are you endangering yourself but you are endangering your teammates.

And no matter how frustratingly emotionally constipated the bats are, no way are they choosing to risk their friends and family welfare for the sake of pride.

Think about it:

If you have mobility issues then you’re on sidewalk duty? Youre walking or motorcycle. Either way you’re off rooftops until you can safely grapple without pulling some stitches on your side or exasperating the ache in your upper back.

If you hide it and then you lose your gripe on your grapple because you have a full body flinch from pulling something and your teammates have to catch you or you die. Well that’s stupid. That’s a stupid way to die. No ego is worth that stupid death.

If you’re not sleeping which means your reaction time is sloppy** then you’re just not patrolling. There is plenty of work that doesn’t require the bats to be fighting around the city. The detective work can be done at a desk looking through camera footage, tracking down informants or victims or witnesses, or just mining the web for info. Plus paperwork, gadget maintenance, and the other fussy work that happens when you don’t have a company dedicated to maintaining your status of superhero like Ironman does.

All I’m saying is I know the cool part is the swinging and the patrolling and the fighting. Having an injury — a serious one with bone and blood — sounds cool and adds tension. Hell hiding an injury sounds like something they would do because they’re emotionally stunted idiots who don’t want to be a burden on their loved ones, right?

But they’re Bats! They’re effective, efficient, smart. They are human with human limits that can keep up with Supers and Flashes and Themyscirans. But to do that, they have to be managing their human limits intelligently.

TLDR: The BatFam cannot be getting injured that frequently or hiding injuries from teammates — the family or otherwise — without becoming massive liabilities in the field which would make their jobs nearly impossible to complete at the level of excellence they must do to keep up with the rest of the superhero community.

——

* By the way, Gotham is a city with a population of 10 million. For reference, NYC has 8 million people. Gotham also has enough land to have entire city blocks permanently unoccupied. Think about that! If NYC had a plot of land unoccupied, it would be built up into housing and business space immediately because space is a hot commodity in a city of 8M! How much fucking space does Gotham have!!!

** Yes you can survive without any sleep up to 30 days but that’s because by day 30 your organs shut down. Lack of sleep starts costing you as soon as 36 hours without sleep. They have to be sleeping a full 8-10 hours (or more because again they’re moving so much!) at some point to keep up. If they have insomnia then maybe they take something to go to sleep like a special bat-ambien.

[motleyfam]

Hi! Do you like getting ask messages? I’m just asking bc I don’t want to be rude if I send an ask about your fics! 🙂 thanks for all your fics you’re amazing!

Sure, hit me!

[shower-phantom-ideas]

Imagine the batkids fuck up major and a batdad had to step in and clean up their mistake

Everyone kinda embarrassed because of their blunder and Jason is lashing out to protect himself from shame

Dick is joining is cause well he feels bad about it being his idea

Now Tim is arguing too

Damian wants to feel involved and u can’t convince me other wise

Bruce is trying ti make a point about safety thats just fully derailed

Anyway Danny as Fenton is just there in the background around all the bad guys he took out before Bruce actually got there like “awkward” but the moment he tries to just tippytoe his way out Bruce turns to point at him “and don’t think you are getting out of this. Your grounded too”

He just freezes. Can batman do that? Is he legally allowed to do that? Wait what does Batman mean by grounded?!!? Whats his move here.

“Everyone in the batmobile we will discuss this more in the morning”

Oh ok thats his move. Ok yea Batman just grounded him. He better go.

So they r having the ride home and everyone is sulking and Danny is just there confused but doesn’t say anything because hes probably tired and it’s batman wtf you gonna do.

So they are at the cave and Danny finally just “so can I call my family to tell them I wont be home tonight?”

You everyone just stops. And slowly turns to face him. “Ah yea dumb question. I guess uhhh no phones huh?” No one moves. Everyone is pretty shocked. Cause one bruce kidnapped some kid. Two theres a civi in the batcave. Three bruce kidnapped some fucking kid. Four some random kid just got in the car with them. Five holy fuck bruce kidnapped some kid.

Breaks over enjoy post

[dollishmehrayan]

# “THE WOMAN WAS TOO STUNNED TO SPEAK…” ── .✦ ( batboys w an unhinged!reader and blunt!reader )

a/n: this is from my little brain of mine , and I like to honor it for @kyriakis anywhoo I’m back and omg 1k?! Alsoo guys dw! I’m gonna do the event tomorrow && I’m gonna pick out some prompts I have organized, so i didn't forget okay but i just got a lot of DMs asking when I’m gonna do it for you guyss so yeah it’s gonna be tomorrow since I’m gonna re-edit + add some ideas of your guys votes!! Tags: (batboys x unhinged!reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

He’s always caught off guard but loves it. Your bluntness is a breath of fresh air for Dick, who’s so used to diplomatic conversations. You say whatever’s on your mind with zero filter, and he’s like, “Oh, wow. Okay. I respect it.”

Hates it when you don’t hold back with him. He’s used to being the charming, funny guy who makes everyone laugh, but you hit him with a “That was dumb, don’t do that again” and his brain short circuits for a second. “You can’t just say that!” “Why not?”

Finds it hilarious when you wreck other people’s egos. You have zero time for anyone’s nonsense, and when someone messes up, you let them know. Dick’s in the background, trying not to laugh. “Do you not think before you speak?!…” He’s always acts so shocked but hey, he’s kinda enjoying it unless it’s aimed at him. (He can’t fight verbally for the life of him without saying some cringe shit)

Doesn’t even try to change you. Dick knows what he’s getting into, and he loves you for it. He’s never going to ask you to ‘tone it down.’ He actually finds your unapologetic attitude pretty hot.

He’s 50% worried you’ll get into trouble, 50% impressed. But in the end, he’ll always back you up, saying, “She’s just honest. Get used to it.”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Finally, someone who speaks his language. Jason lives for the fact that you don’t care what people think. He loves how blunt you are, especially when you cut through the BS with the precision of a sharp knife.

Gets protective when people try to push your boundaries. If someone dares disrespect you, Jason’s the first one to step in. “You’ve got a problem with her? You’ve got a problem with me.”, “Jason that was so fucking cringey..”

Appreciates that you don't sugarcoat things for him. You’ll tell him exactly how it is, whether it’s about his attitude or a bad decision he made, and he respects it, it’s like the tt sound where “that’s when it hit me, it was the best idea I ever had..” but like this: “Not gonna lie, that was a terrible plan, Jay,” and he’ll just nod. “Fair.”

You guys have the most chaotic, weirdest conversations. It’s a mix of witty banter, ridiculous one-liners, and deadpan sarcasm. Other people can’t even keep up with the energy.

The idea of dating a ‘good girl’ never appealed to him anyway. He thrives off your unhinged energy. You’re unpredictable, and it keeps him on his toes, which he loves. “Yeah, you’re definitely not boring.” (Although the thing is he does love innocent people, like if you’re like gen clueless he wants preserve your innocence.)

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Tim’s brain can’t keep up with you. Your blunt, no-nonsense attitude constantly makes him blink in confusion. One minute you’re casually roasting someone, and the next, you’re giving a straight-up critique of his latest plan. He’s learning that he can’t outthink you.

He admires your unapologetic honesty. Tim has a lot of internalized doubts, so watching you casually reject anyone’s judgment is a nice contrast. You don’t apologize for your thoughts, and it’s something he secretly admires.

Constantly second-guesses himself around you. Your sharp tongue makes him want to be as confident as you. He gets nervous about saying anything that might sound soft, so when he stumbles, you’re like, “What was that? I swear you just whispered something.” And he’ll blush hard, muttering an apology.

You both have a sarcastic sense of humor that others don’t quite get. You say something outrageous, and Tim will respond with the driest remark possible. People in the room often wonder if you two are joking or just genuinely a bit rude.

Not scared to call him out. When Tim’s too nice, you’ll be like, “You need to stop letting people walk all over you. Grow some teeth.” Tim won’t admit it, but that does motivate him to be a little bolder.

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Damian is a bit taken aback at first. He’s used to people being respectful or like seeing him as kinda a role model, so when you come out with a “That’s dumb, don’t even talk to me right now,” he’s not sure how to handle it. He will stand there, blinking, while processing your bluntness. (He’s too stunned to speak 😞)

Genuinely respects your forthrightness, though. “I’ll admit, I have never met someone so… honest.” He starts respecting you even more, thinking you’re someone he can’t manipulate or charm easily.

Loves that you’re as stubborn as he is. If you’re determined about something, there’s no changing your mind. You’ll fight for your opinions even if it gets you into a heated debate. And Damian’s right there with you, arguing like it’s the most fun thing in the world.

Tries to match your bluntness. “You talk too much,” he says one day, and you immediately reply, “And yet, here you are, listening to every word I say.” Damian actually pauses for a second, impressed. “Right..”

Loves how you’ll shut down his critics with zero hesitation. Someone says something disrespectful to him, and you’ll be the first to shoot back, “He doesn’t need your advice, trust me.” He’ll give you a proud little smirk. “I like the way you handle things.”

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

At first, Bruce is a bit disconcerted by your bluntness. Bruce’s the kind of guy who expects people to be formal and classy, and you just come in with “This entire meeting is a waste of my time. I don’t care about any of this.” He blinks, then quietly admires your bravery.

Totally respects your unfiltered honesty. Bruce has had enough of the world’s games, so when you don’t bother to pretend or hold anything back, it’s like a breath of fresh air for him.

Secretly loves when you don’t play nice." He knows you're not afraid of saying what you think, and when you call him out on his brooding or overly protective behavior, he listens. “You’re right. I’m sorry for not trusting you more.” (He totally doesn’t have a tracker on your hair clip..🥰)

You both have moments of pure savage honesty that no one else gets. There’s no need for filters, and you’ll both exchange one-liners so dry that it leaves everyone else in the room confused.

Finds it endearing when you make his plans more interesting. “This is ridiculous. Why are we doing this again?” You snap at him in a room full of his board members, and he just gives you a look that says, “I’m never apologizing for you.”

[electricgg]

Ancient Dreams In A Modern Land

Chapter 1: I Could Be The Eye Of The Storm

Masterlist Chapter 1 (Here!) / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 / Chapter 12 /

It has been said that when a person is on the verge of death, their brain shows various memories of their life for seven minutes. Seven minutes of beautiful, happy memories that marked your life.

From the moment you gave the wailing, shocking cry as the cold air of the outside world hit your wrinkly, red skin, fresh out of the womb, until the very last few moments, you keep on fighting to keep air down your lungs, and your heart slowly stops pumping blood into your veins.

A way of welcoming the end of your life peacefully, if you can see it that way. 

Most people become cynical when it comes to the end of the cycle of life. Either for loss of faith or not wanting to think about what comes after it. 

It’s probably because of fear.

No, it’s definitely because of fear.

Everyone is afraid of what happens when you cross to the other side. That’s a fact. A human fact.

That’s why the seven minutes are such a comforting idea. Seeing all the good things you have lived before going away into a black abyss of uncertainty. 

A last ray of warm light. 

(Y/N) Wayne doesn’t get her seven minutes.

Well, not her own seven minutes.

From the moment her body sank to the bottom of the water, Wayne knew her seven minutes would not be of warm, happy memories.

They would be of dark, cold hallways. Empty chairs on her birthday table. Short excuses and empty apologies for any type of tournament they didn’t assist. Cold shoulders and annoyed stares whenever she spoke or made ‘dumb’ questions.

Her dad’s empty silence. Dick’s soft avoidance. Jason’s burning anger. Tim’s sharp cut-offs. Damian’s freezing hatred. 

Perhaps Death would allow her to have Alfred’s warming smiles and compassion. Maybe even the sweet melody of her mother’s humming voice as she laid on that small bed in the asylum.

Instead, she gets seven minutes of a complete acid trip.

A small town with overly nice people.

A woman and a man who are completely in love with one another. A house that changes from black and white to color, the furniture changing with the decades.

Two babies, twins, a girl and a boy.

The rush of the wind against her skin as she runs in a complete sugar rush with a man with silver hair and then the woman saying ‘if she was to break the sound barrier, she would take her brother with her’.

A huge fight with blows of red and purple and guns ending in with a warm family hug with the twins, a scarlet witch, and an android with a soul.

A good night scene, the woman kissing each of them on the forehead before turning the lights off.

The boy crawling into the girl’s bed and both of them holding to each other tightly as their world crumbles around them in a red dome.

‘Good night,---’

‘Good night, Billy.’

That name gets stuck in her brain as life slips away from her lungs. It echoes in a gentle, childish voice as it grows farther and farther away. Just like the air bubbles escaping from her mouth and nose.

‘A twin,’ a final thought muses. 

‘I always wanted a twin.’

‘Please, let me have that life next time.’

‘Please, let it be–’

•═•═•═•═•═•═•═•═•

“Billy!”

Those are the words (Y/N) Maximoff tried to say as her mouth graggled and vomited all the water from inside her lungs once she fought to remain afloat in the deep, dark water. The left side of her head throbbed like hell, making her dizzy and tired while swimming in a puppy-like style on her right side to finally reach the edge of the nasty pool she woke up in. 

Climbing it was another gigantic chore, but she refused to remain on the murky (read as definitely contaminated) water any longer.

Coughing up her guts and wheezing for air while drenched in nasty water and bleeding wound on the head was so going to the ‘Situations I Never Wish To Repeat Ever in My Life’ list. 

It would be the only one on it, but with the way things are looking at the moment, she is pretty sure that list is only going to keep growing.

She lay on her right side once she no longer felt like she was choking. Or maybe because her adrenaline finally crashed and her strength just gave up. 

Taking deep breaths, the situation began to sink in.

She was supposed to be dead. Gone. Kaput!

Or at least that’s what she thought. All that she remembers is Billy.

Half of her, never too far away. Always together. It’s how it is supposed to be.

Billy is not here. She is alone.

Alone. Cold. Wet. Hurt. 

Did she mention being wet? She hates being wet. She hates how heavy it makes her clothes (a uniform, from what she could see?). She hates how cold it makes her skin. She hates how it reminds her of the empty floating space she was held in before Billy brought her back.

Took him long enough! Billy knows how much she hates empty dark places.

With a groan, she sits up on the cold concrete, her wet figure leaving an imprint of water forming her silhouette as if it were a murder scene. All that was left was the white tape, the thought of it making her snort.

She came to regret it once the wound on her head gave a sharp ping of pain, almost as if her body was punishing her for thinking such morbid things.

Wincing as her hand went up to touch where the wound was throbbing. The groan that was about to come out turned into a rough cough once her fingers came up bloody. 

Her fingertips rubbed the clogged blood between them, eyes moving from them to look around her.

It was an abandoned place. By the looks of it, back in its former glory, it would have been a public pool. The sun chairs were all broken, rusted, and twisted in ways that left the tubes looking like some abstract sculpture. Some umbrellas were scattered around; either closed, open, or broken in various degrees.

The pool was still filled with water, if you call it that. It was a deep green that switched between brown and black depending on which angle you looked from.

A wired fence surrounded the place, some noticeable holes that indicated people would sneak in to do graffiti, drink or smoke if the clear signs on the walls and scattered around the floor weren’t enough.

A wave of nausea came over her as she looked back againg at the pool. She scattered on her knees as quick as possible to empty her stomach once again on a overgrown bush by the fence.

She clung to the fence, finally gathering the strength to stand up on her feet. Shivers went down her spine at the feeling of her socks squashing water on her pretty much ruined school shoes. Her head hanged for a few moments, head ringing from all that transpired in the last few minutes.

Billy. She needed to find Billy.

He has all the answers. She was a hundred percent sure he was the one that put her here. Not sure why he left her on her own and hurt and drowning in a pool that pretty much looks like the dark plague made in a liquid, but he would explain. He has an answer for everything. Always. And he will probably know where M–...

Her head suddenly went blank. As if it where a clean slate that left her in a dazed state. Once it was over, a groan of pain was heard from her, a splitting headache forming behind her eye balls.

…Wait. What was she thinking?

…

Billy. She has to find Billy.

She clung to that name, scrunching down a hole on the fence big enough for her to slip out. A few loose wires scraping against her uniform and legs. One even managed to snag at her skirt once she stood up fully on the other side.

Grumbling under her breath, taking the now broken cloth and finishing ripping it off.

‘Now she has an improvised bandage!’ A very animated thought came to her mind making her smile pleasantly.

Thankfully, the blood stopped flowing a while back so wiping the residue wasn’t that bad. She was a little bit hesitant to use it as bandage due to it being soaked with the water of the pool but she had no other choice.

Either get an infection or walk around looking like a murder victim.

“Infection it is,” she muttered while moving her hair away from her left temple and wrapping the cloth around her head.

She probably looked like Rambo if he was a pathetic wet child.

“Now, which way should I go?” she wondered out loud as she looked around the alley way. The building walls were too tall to see beyond them, and the sky was already turning pretty dark.

Walking carefully as she used the bricked wall as support, the next thing that came to view was a busy street.

People going from side to side, not even giving a spare glance at others. Some on their phones scrolling or on calls. Others simply walking while staring at a destination but never at another person. Men, women, kids, teens, of all ages.

Nobody spared a glance at her.

Which is honestly the best scenario from her point of view. No time to delay on her search.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” a gruff voice asked from her side.

Busted!

She moved her head to the side to look at the man. Tall, a bit round but more like a dad bod. Greying brown hair on the sides along with a mustache. Old fashioned glasses and a thick coat with a insignia on the left side.

A police insignia.

‘Stand down!’ ‘Handle the military, I’ll be right back!’ ‘Nice tricks.’ ‘Like yours too’-

Voices scattered around her head in flashes. She didn’t see who were saying them, only blurry silhouettes of color moving around before she was brought back to the present moment.

She took a step back. The man frowned. Not in anger but it looked like worry.

His gaze moved over her, checking her until he reached her face. Then he looked almost shocked for a moment.

Or was I something else?

“Wayne? What are you doing all the way down here? And alone?” He began tossing questions as he took another step closer and grasping her shoulder gently but firmly.

‘So it was a worried expression, got it.’

“What happened? You’re soaked to the bone!” He took off his coat and wrapped it around her. It was way bigger on her but she couldn’t complain over the warmth it brought her. She hadn’t realized how cold she actually was.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Don’t mention it, dear girl. But you haven’t answered my question, Wayne.” His voice turned a bit firm.

Damn. What was she supposed to say? And who the hell was Wayne?!

“Um, I don’t remember?” She lifted her shoulders with an awkward smile.

Best thing to do when you get caught by the police is too always act dumb. Or pretend amnesia. Which isn’t that far away from the truth, but hey, A win is win!

The man frowned, rubbing his temples as his glasses knocked up to his head with a sigh. An exasperated one. Then he took a deep breath and began to move her by the shoulders and start walking.

“You obviously got a wound on the head, so it could be a concussion. I’m driving you to the station so the Doc can check on you, alright?”

He asks as if she had a choice, which she clearly didn’t.

But, she let him walk her to the patrol car. Weighing her options, this was the better choice. Her main plan was asking around for Billy and maybe even climbing into the ceiling of a building and yell for him…

She wasn’t the best at planning. Sue her.

Now, she has better options. At the police station, she could get a change of clothes (maybe even get a quick shower if she begs?), get her wound checked out and also find information on where Billy is. All of that before they find out she is not whoever this Wayne person is.

Three birds in one shot! (Hopefully four birds. She stinks like a sewer rat.)

“Can I sound the alarm?!” She asks as soon as both of them get in the car.

He looks a bit startled at the sudden excitement. Even a bit off putting. But he just shakes his head with a quiet laugh and shows her the switch.

“Just wait until we get to-“

The alarm started blasting at full volume along with manical squealing.

•═•═•═•═•═•═•═•═•

“Yes, thank you so much for the call. I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

The old phone clicks the end of the call, a moment of silence interrupted with a sigh from Alfred as he walks away to gather his coat and keys of the car. He is grateful the call came in just as he finished seasoning the dinner for the night.

The boys are grown enough to know where the utensils and plates are to serve themselves. He doesn’t know how long this would take and traffic in Gotham is a living nightmare.

But before leaving, he made a quick detour through the manor. His destination; the master’s office. He had to be informed about this.

Even if it has been years since he actually made an effort for Lady (Y/N).

The young lady of the house has always been deemed as a quiet presence by the members of the family. Keeping her thoughts and opinions to herself. Polite and well mannered. Willing to do any type of chore if it meant having at least someone to notice her.

A greeting word, a gentle touch or even a warm hug. But all of that were for nothing.

She wasn't deemed loud enough amongst her peers to matter.

But to Alfred, she was the loudest presence to ever set foot in the Wayne Manor. It was almost sad how deaf the rest of the family was when it came to (Y/N).

Three sharp knocks on the door were enough for Master Bruce to let him enter the office. The curtains were already closed, almost giving a dark atmosphere if it weren't for the warm light lamps on his desk and by the corners of the room.

Master Bruce didn't even lift his head from the documents he was revewing.

"Is something wrong, Alfred?" his deep tired voice rumbling in the air as he switched documents. Sounds of papers being moved around made Alfred frown for a second.

Always a messy man when it comes to papers, that's why he does everything in that blasted computer in the cave.

"Yes, Master Wayne," he cleared his throat before continuing.

"Dinner is ready but hasn't been served. The young masters can serve themselves while I go to the police station to pick up the young mistress."

Silence.

"...The police station?"

His tone remained the same. As if talking about the weather. It irked Alfred how his master didn't seem to react accordingly to the situation.

"Yes. Chief Gordon was the one to call. Said he found Lady (Y/N) wandering around by herself by Grant Park. Completely drenched and out of it. He mentioned she was getting checked by their doctor in case she got a concussion."

Master Bruce took a few moments to finally lift his gaze from the papers. Alfred had spent many years besides Bruce, but sometimes he couldn't place what his masters nonverbal actions meant.

Just like right now.

"...Bring her. I'll talk to her later." his gaze turned down once again.

Alfred nodded and left the office without another word until her reached the car. Once he closed the driver's door, he let out a very deep and exhausted sigh.

He could feel the disappointment flowing up inside. It felt almost like failure. Failure for not being able to drag Bruce by the ear and make him drive to the station. For not having the audacity to scream at him for how he acts towards his own flesh and blood.

Anger at himself for not being able to do more for his young mistress.

As Alfred began to drive through the gates of the manor, he took notice of how the sky had turned already dark.

But what stood out was the quick flash of green and silver striking in between the black clouds. It was gone in just a second, the loud rumbling of thunder almost making the car windows shake.

He couldn't help but feel like it was omen.

Good or bad, that was to be determined.

•═•═•═•═•═•═•═•═•

Author's note: First chapter done! Please reblog and like. Do let me know what you guys think of it and what theories come up to mind with all the hints I left around the chapter! Hopefully, next chapter will be up next sunday if college doesn't kick my ass lol. Lots of love! GG✨

Bonus Memes:

[wonderjanga]

Marvel and the YJ

So, Marvel in the YJ. He’s one of their den mothers and all that. So like, in this AU, and in fact in all of my posts so far, Billy’s kept it under wraps that he’s a kid. So, as a result, the YJ think he’s just this really cool big brother (dad (they just don’t know it)) type of dude. Like he’s so nice. And he’s so nice to them especially. Like, he treats all of them the same way he treats adults. He doesn’t doubt their abilities, and when they fail, he’s still there to encourage them to get back up and he doesn’t even make them feel bad about it.

Like, the one time he was asked to spar with the YJ cause they wanted to for funsies I guess, he positively whooped their asses and somehow, someway found a way to still compliment their abilities, even if they didn’t last that long because the battle was a little one-sided. To be fair though, they had asked him not to go easy, which he didn’t. In the end, he got promptly scolded by Canary heavily when she found out he quite literally used Kid Flash as a rag doll and threw him at Aqualad. She said that the entire tape of him having a “friendly spar” with those kids, was essentially just him bullying them. To which Billy tried to defend himself by saying those kids were plenty capable. The defense didn’t work.

Then, there was this time Kon mentioned he couldn’t fly and Marvel offered him a lift. This somehow ended up with Marvel sort of T posing mid air as Kon and Robin hung on one arm, Artemis and Aqualad hung on the other arm, then Kid Flash held onto one leg while M’gann held onto the other.

Flash: “Wow.” *looking up at the YJ and Marvel* “That’s… actually kinda majestic, not gonna lie.”

Superman: *also looking up at Marvel and the YJ* “Is it though? What if one of them falls?”

Flash: “Eh. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Kid Flash proceeds to almost slip off and fall, which almost gives both the speedster and Kryptonian a heart attack. Thankfully, he catches himself by moving his feet really fast to boost himself back up. Worst part in their opinion is that Marvel didn’t even seem to notice.

Then, there was the time M’gann with Robin about something. Batman was also working nearby on a computer.

M’gann: “Hmm… We need advice.”

Robin!Tim: “We need an adult.”

Batman: *keeping an ear out cause he’s always happy to help one of his kids*

M’gann and Robin!Tim: *thinking before they speak up at the same time* “Marvel.” *they then both walk out of the room to find the Captain*

Batman: *a little upset that Tim did didn’t come to him for help but also a lot more concerned as to why they thought Marvel was a suitable choice to ask for advice, especially considering the fact that just earlier that day, he had caught the man scribbling on one of the meeting tables like a 5th grader scribbling on their desk*

Contrary to what Bruce thought might happen (I.e. something going wrong) apparently Marvel’s advice wasn’t too bad, seeing nothing had gone wrong yet. (He later found out that the two had asked for the best advice on how to incapacitate your enemy quickly. He found this out when he saw Tim throat punch a man. Said man went down almost immediately. When prodded for information for as to why he did that, he proudly proclaimed “Cap taught me”)

Also a little tidbit from the Marvel Cursing post about the YJ thinking that Marvel called one of them a dumb cunt. Courtesy to @helps-the-writing-brain-go

Billy’s recently noticed that the kids are acting funny. Though, he supposes it’s not a bad funny. If anything, whatever’s got them acting weird has got them doing better on missions, but still. It’s weird. What’s weirder is that whenever he compliments them, they shine twice as brighter than they normally do. What’s even weirder than that is that whenever they’ve messed up recently they look twice as nervous. Speaking of which, this was one of the moments they’ve messed up.

Marvel: “So… Uh- that didn’t go so well.”

YJ: *obvious signs of anxiousness on some and subtle on others*

Marvel: “But that’s okay! But that’s okay.” *trying his best to make the anxiety in them disappear* “We just have to try to be better next time. Like, and I hate to say this, maybe try calling in an adult next time? Like me? I could’ve zoomed over and helped you guys.”

YJ: *look at each other*

Artemis: “Wally’s the one who said that we shouldn’t call you in a try to do this on our own.”

Kid Flash: *dramatic gasp* “You know why I said that! It would’ve helped us all if Kaldur had tried to put the fires near the gas tanks out with his water powers!”

Aqualad: “I was busy being attacked by nearly five different people.”

YJ: *dissolve into arguing*

Marvel: “Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wally what did you mean by it would’ve helped you all? Me not being there would’ve been good?” *confused*

YJ: *immediate silence*

Kon: “Wally found out that you think one of us is dumb cunt.”

Kid Flash: “Dude! You guys need to stop ratting me out!”

Marvel: “What.” *stares in befuddlement*

M’gann: “And then he told us. So we’ve been trying to think of ways to not be uh… dumb cunts.”

Marvel: *blinks rapidly* “Again, what? Wally, where did you get this information from?”

Kid Flash: “When you were making cookies! I heard you say blah blah blah, what a dumb cunt.”

Marvel: *still staring in confusion*

Kid Flash: “Then, when I asked what you were talking about, Mary said you were talking about our performance on missions.”

Marvel: “…Okay. I’m going to be completely honest with you. I don’t remember a thing of what you’re talking about.”

Marvel then goes on to make a speech about how they’re wonderful heroes who shouldn’t let one person’s words guide them, especially in risky situations like a mission. He then told them that he was now going to stress bake and make some Minnesota cool whip, jello, fruit, not really salad, salad. (Courtesy to @jedipirateking) On the bright side though, the speech did leave the teens feeling better.

[tessasturns]

…SIMON MAKING SHY!READER BEG

simon ‘ghost’ riley x shy!reader, begging, teasing, f receiving oral, smut smut smut, protected p in v, aftercare, swearing, pure filth, porn with no big plot, dirty talk, sex in missionary

(masterlist) (nav)

you ached for it, and simon knew that.

you had never really initiated sex with him, not in an unwitting way, you were just shy when it came to that topic.

it usually started with a subtle touch of his arm, then an ‘accidental’ hand brushing over his crotch, and then slowly putting your legs on his lap until he followed through with your tendencies. that’s how it usually was, until simon started catching onto your little game.

he started by taking longer to cave, but now it was him just not giving in.

it was a slow night, the two of you just watching a tim burton movie in the quiet home. no matter how many times you tried to get closer to him, even ‘accidentally’ spilling water on his lap and wiping it up, he didn’t cave. it drove you insane.

“si” you whisper softly, moving your hips to sit on his lap. he still stares straight at the t.v., not moving an inch. “simon!” you whine, blocking his face.

“yes, love?” he smiles like he doesn’t know what he’s doing to you. the heat between your legs just grows as you look into his beautiful eyes. you don’t say anything, just give him a pleading look.

“what is it darling?” he smiles, loving every second of your struggle. you just whine, your shyness taking over, and boy does he know it. “please?” you tilt your head, looking up at his face.

“please what?” he furrows his brows like he can’t feel a wet spot growing on his pants from your cunt. “use your words.” he commands, his gruff voice only making your ‘situation’ worse.

“you know… what i want” you say, ever so slightly grinding down on him. you could feel a bulge as you did so, knowing the feelings were mutual.

“i don’t know. is there something i can help you with?” he questions, playing dumb. “please simon… i need you..” your voice was barely above a whisper.

“need me where?” he says, acting clueless. that was your last straw. he knew what you needed, but decided to just be annoying about it.

you grab his hand and guide it down your pyjama shorts, then into your panties. “here.” you say, softly grinding against his fingers. “so what are you asking?” simon said, just being flat out cocky.

“fuck simon! i need you to fuck me! i’ve been trying to make it clear all night but you’re just a jerk-“ you try to finish your rant, but you’re cut short when simon flips you onto your back, pinning you down.

he kisses you, softly at first, but getting more and more hungry. “that’s all you had to say, precious” he smiles, taking his lips down your neck.

he leaves a trail of open mouthed kisses along your neck and collarbone whilst slowly sliding his hand up your shirt.

within a few seconds, simons shirt is off and so are your pants. he’s sat on the floor, in between your legs as he kisses your inner thighs. he teasingly licks small stripes all along your body, only making you more and more impatient.

“simon please” you breathed out. “i need you to just… i don’t know just something!” he chuckled at your pleas.

“atta girl, using your words.” you breathed out another moan as he licked your clit. the sudden touch made you shake slightly, to which he put his hands on your hips.

he continues the motion, making you squirm. he licks up and down your pussy, pace increasing as he does so. his tongue laps in circles over your heat, making you go crazy.

“fuck si… i’m- gonna cum” you exclaim, back arching. you cum all over his face, making a mess of the couch cushion. you breathe out heavily, being worn out.

“shit- thank you simon” you say. “you think i’m done?” his words slice through the thick air. “wha-“ you attempt to stutter out something, anything, but he’s already holding your hips, licking your cunt again.

you grab a fistful of his hair, thighs squeezing his head. “mmh… you fucking like that doll, hm?” he asks, looking up at you. you nod profusely, not trusting your voice.

he spits on your clit, staring you deep in the eyes as he does so. your hips aren’t even on the couch anymore, back is arched, head is flung back, yet he’s still going for more.

not only did he care about your pleasure and how you felt, but loved eating you out just for the pure taste and pleasure he got from watching you.

your second orgasm crushes you, hips jerking to meet simons eager face. you were on edge, your body being sensitive and fragile.

simon gets up off the couch, reaching into a bag of some sort. you lay there, completely fucked out, staring at the ceiling. the soft hum of the t.v. washes through your brain as you hear the sound of a belt coming off, then hitting the floor. you turn to your left, and sure enough, simon is standing there in nothing but his boxers.

“you said you needed me to fuck you, yeah love?” he clarifies. “si… can’t” you manage to say. “you know the word, and until you say it, i don’t plan on us stopping.” he says, pulling down his boxers.

you’re perched on your elbows, watching his cock spring out. you notice a small amount of precum dripping from his tip, only making you wetter.

he slides the condom he grabbed onto his cock, pumping himself in the process. he places you on the long part of your L couch, lining his member up to your needy entrance. he doesn’t move a muscle from there, it’s simply just his tip barely touching your heat.

“simon!” you whine, uncomfortably squirming. you needed him, and he knew that. “yes darlin’?” he asks, his eyes meeting yours.

“ugh- don’t be a prick! please just fuck me!” you groan, anger bubbling in your throat. “stop being a tease.”

he chuckles at the words you add softly, and follows through with his plan. his cock just slides in because of your wetness, but shit was it tight. he starts with a few slow thrusts, finding a rhythmic pace.

“please si” you moan out. “faster” he follows your command, snapping his hips to meet yours much faster. your words are now incoherent babbles, attempts made to speak just being disregarded.

“fuck i’m so close” you warn, head flying back into the cushion. “mph me too” simon groans out as his thrusts become sloppier. “shit ‘m- cumming-!” you squeal as you feel a warm liquid pool inside the condom.

you release all over his dick as he rides out his high. he pulls out, discarding the condom. simon grabs you by your waist and lays you down in a more comfortable position while he cleans the couch, cleaning you as well.

he lays by your side as you rest your head against his beating heart. the two of you lie skin to skin in a comforting silence, sweat and sex filling the air.

“is that what you needed?” simon says after a few moments of heavy breathing.

“fuck you”

“already done love”

tessa’s notes… hi guys!! sorry for my absence:( alsooo new writing style??? i died my hair all day today and messed it up so bad im dyinggg

taglist… @emely9274 @baileysturnz @sllutty-sturniolo @chrisspussygang @ivysturnss @evansturn @sturniolosluttt @kisschriss @sheluvsthesturniolos @sparklybtch @mothstvrnz @slvt4subchratt @csturnioloswifey @moond0llie @chrissleftshoe @sweetheartsangel @sophand4n4 @sturrrrnslvt @sturnsfavxo @wh0remikasas

comment to be added or removed.

© tessasturns

[rainrot4me]

hi dear, can you do how the creeps/proxies react to y/n sending them a spicy video/photo while they are away and how they handle the situation when they come back ? 💕

EHEHEHEHEHEHEHE

๑ Warning: Mentions of nudity and boners

── .✦

✦ . jeff the killer

He was already annoyed from the job. Some idiot ran off into the woods when Jeff specifically told them to sit still while he “handled business.” Now he was on a wild goose chase for some fucker dumb enough to run away from him. But nothing, nothing, could’ve prepared him for that buzz of his phone and the preview image that followed.

“…The fuck?”

His thumb hesitates just before unlocking the screen, already feeling the heat crawl up the back of his neck. And then, there you are. Looking up at the camera with those eyes, wearing practically nothing but a sly grin, playing so innocent while your fingers wandered.

“Shit,” he huffs under his breath, licking his lips and running a hand down his face. His pupils dilate, beginning to fiddle with the handle of his knife as if there isn’t someone screaming and crying for help meters away from him. “Oh, you’re kidding.” He only deals with the poor guy after he’s watched the video a couple of times to get himself a hard-on.

When he gets back, much earlier than expected, you don’t even get a knock.

The door slams open, and you barely have time to register his entrance before you’re pinned to the wall. His hoodie smells like blood and smoke, and he’s already dragging you closer by the hips, voice husky and dangerous. He ignores your complaints.

“You think you’re real funny, huh,” he murmurs into your ear, breath hot. “Sending that when you know I can’t touch you?”

And oh, he makes sure you feel every second of the frustration you caused.

✦ . ticci toby

Toby’s sprawled out on the motel bed, half-listening to the static of some old cable TV show while chewing on a candy bar he swiped from the front counter. He’s been antsy all day, his meds wearing thin, missing you, pacing like he can’t sit still for long (because he can’t).

Then his phone buzzes.

He checks it and immediately drops the candy. His hands fumble, then freeze. He sits fully up.

His mouth opens just a little. “Holy shit…”

His tics stutter for a moment, brain completely scrambling. “Why—why would you do that to me right now?” he groans, falling back into the bed and squeezing his eyes shut. He has to fight the urge to immediately FaceTime you.

When he comes back, he’s already grinning behind his mask. You open your mouth to greet him, but he beats you to it—arms around your waist, lifting you off the ground and spinning you, hands already wandering.

“I hope you’re proud of you-yourself,” he says against your jaw, giggling low. “Because I haven’t thought about anything else since you sent that. Ho-Hope your afternoon is free, baby.”

✦ . eyeless jack

EJ was restocking his medical supplies in the mansion’s basement, gloves still on, mind focused on organization and sterilization. The vibration of his phone against the metal tray distracted him just long enough to glance at the screen.

The photo loads.

He freezes.

He takes a breath, slow and measured, but his hand tightens around the tray until it creaks under the pressure.

He doesn’t react outwardly until you’re back. Then it’s silent steps through the door, gloved hands removing your phone from your grasp, and a quiet chill that swallows the air from your lungs.

“You’re an idiot,” he murmurs as he lifts your chin, that soft, unreadable tone hiding so much want beneath. “And far too tempting for your own good.”

He’s clinical, deliberate, slow in his approach, savoring every inch of you like a specimen he wants to study. “I hope you’re proud of yourself, little lamb.”

✦ . masky (tim wright)

Tim doesn’t expect it. He’s sitting in a dim hallway, nursing a flask, hand still stained with dirt and ash from a mission. He just wanted a moment of quiet and prayed the half-gone cigarette resting between his chapped lips was enough to calm the ache in the back of his head.

A buzz in his pocket.

He unlocks his phone with low expectations.

And then your video plays. His brows shoot up, jaw clenching as he watches your fingers trail across your skin. He swears under his breath and stares at the screen like it personally offended him. The cigarette tumbles from his lips, forgotten on the ground as he tugs at the belt hugging his quickly-tightening pants.

When he gets back, he acts like nothing happened—at first. Mask still on, jacket tugged low, but his silence is loaded. You can feel his eyes behind the mask, tracking your every move, burning holes into your head.

When the night finally falls and the mask finally comes off, he grabs you by the collar and pulls you in, mouth crashing against yours in a kiss that’s all pent-up restraint.

“You’re terrible,” he whispers, forehead pressed against yours, breath shaky. “You know that? Gonna drive me insane one day.”

✦ . hoody (brian thomas)

Brian’s always composed, always the calmest of the bunch, always the level head in a sea of chaos. But not when it comes to you.

He was reviewing footage from a scouting mission, surfing through the hours of footage to gather enough information on whoever the Operator had sent them out to kill, when your video came through.

His eyes darken the moment he sees it. He doesn’t make a sound. Just rewatches it. Twice. Then a third time. The low hum in his throat might sound like amusement, but it’s really him biting his lips so hard they’ve started bleeding.

When he walks through your door later, hood pulled low and mask still on, he says nothing. Just pushes you gently against the wall and pulls the mask off, slowly, purposefully.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about it,” he murmurs, pressing kisses along your jaw. “Couldn’t focus ‘cause of you.”

He brushes his lips against your ear, voice low and hot. “What do you say we recreate it, hm? For me?”

✦ . ben drowned

Ben’s gaming when you send it. Of course he is. He’s in a VC with someone, halfway through wrecking another poor soul in a PvP match when he sees the notification and mutes the mic.

“…No way.”

He opens it. Eyes wide, game forgotten, controller dropped. The only noise is the muffled voices on the other end asking why he suddenly went AFK.

He actually short-circuits, glitching in and out of digital space as he tries to process. The edges of the video pixelate from his own excitement, pulsing as if he’s trying to enter the video itself.

When he gets back, he appears in your bedroom without warning, no knock, no door opening, just a glitch in the air and he’s there, cocky smirk in place.

“I hope you know,” he purrs, stepping forward, “that video is now burned into my brain for eternity.”

He grins wider. “Now show me the live performance.”

✦ . clockwork

Natalie’s out doing recon, calm and focused as ever. But your message comes in while she’s leaning against her van, puffing the last of her nasty cigarette.

One glance, and her whole demeanor changes.

“Oh… my god,” she mutters, biting her lip. “You’re really trying to get me killed out here.”

She plays it cool—at least until she gets back.

Then she pins you to the wall by the wrist, grinning ear to ear.

“You sent that just to mess with me, didn’t you?” she whispers, kissing down your neck. “Well, congratulations. You did.

She doesn’t go easy on you. But she’s sweet with her praise, constantly reminding you, “So perfect,” “So good for me,” “That video didn’t do you justice.”

✦ . laughing jack

Jack’s mid-monologue to himself when the notification appears, and he perks up curiously. He doesn’t expect much, you’re his only contact anyway—until the photo loads.

He pauses.

“…Well, well, well… what do we have here?”

He starts laughing, high and delighted, pacing and giggling with genuine glee.

“Ohhh, darling,” he coos, tapping the screen like it’s your face. “You’re too good to me.”

When he returns, he pops into your room like the jack-in-the-box he is, face just inches from yours.

“You trying to seduce me, hmm? Naughty little thing.”

He wraps his striped arms around you, pulling you close. “Don’t worry—I came prepared.”

✦ . slenderman

Slender doesn’t use phones the way humans do—but he always knows when something’s sent to him. The air around him crackles as your image arrives, the dimensional fabric reacting to your intent.

His tendrils twitch.

You feel his response before you ever see him—shadows stretching under your door, the house growing still. Then he materializes, tall and quiet, gliding toward you with that eerie grace.

“You tempt me,” his voice slips into your mind, smooth and vibrating. “You are reckless, little thing.”

You reach for him, and his tendrils coil around your waist, lifting you like you weigh nothing.

“You will not send such images again—unless I’m there to witness, understood?”

꩜ .ᐟ

[batsandbirdbrains]

I want a reverse robins au where Damian was the one at the circus when The Flying Graysons fell, and it happened while Bruce was stuck in time or whatever. So Dick doesn’t meet Bruce for like a year or so after Damian adopts him. And Damian does adopt him. Immediately. No question.

And the entire time Bruce was gone, Dick could tell Damian was so sad about it. So to make him feel better whenever they talk about Bruce, his little eight year old mind just comes up with the most ridiculous idea.

Dick just always refers to Bruce as Grandpapa in his most obnoxious snobby accent. And it never fails to make Damian’s mouth twitch up into the barest of smiles, if not outright making him chuckle.

And it just caught on with everyone else. Dick is the only one who thinks of Bruce as a grandparent, but if anyone talks to Dick about Bruce, they call him “your grandpapa.”

He also refers to Talia solely as Grandmama in the same snobby accent because he can’t stand her and being referred to as a grandmother in general just pisses her off. Makes her feel old. Dick loves pissing her off, because whenever she comes around, she never fails to make Damian upset. That’s his Baba. No one is allowed to upset his Baba.

So when Dick finally meets Bruce for the first time after Tim brings him back, he just sort of stares up at this big imposing man he’s only seen pictures and videos of, and he’s a little intimidated, but Damian is right there holding Dick’s hand so he puffs out his chest and does his best not to look frightened or worried. And he looks Bruce dead in the eyes and tells him, “i thought you’d be taller, Grandpapa.”

And Jason doubles over, the laughter shocking even him, while Tim smothers a laugh in the background, and Damian just smirks and squeezes Dick’s hand.

Bruce is baffled. But he can’t help but be charmed by the little gremlin standing in front of him who’s sticking his nose up in the air and calling him Grandpapa. He’s reminded a lot of Damian when he was young, actually, even if Damian was a little older than Dick is now when he first came to live with Bruce.

And the Grandpapa thing never dies out, never fizzles into anything more common to call Bruce. It’s always the full Grandpapa, always.

A few JL members had met Robin while Bruce was lost in time, but only a select few. Superman, Wonder Woman, and Green Arrow mostly. A few other strays. Flash has met him a handful of times.

But the first time he goes to the Watchtower to be introduced to everyone, he clings to Bruce’s hand and asks him, “Grandpapa, when does your meeting start?”

And everyone turns and stares. Because this colorful little kid just called Big and Broody “Grandpapa,” and Hal Jordan lets out a bark of a laugh.

But that just makes Robin glare at him, and he squeezes Batman’s hand before stomping right over to him, dragging Batman with him.

“What’s so funny?” he demands with all the sass of a nine year old who feels he’s being made fun of.

“Did you really just call Spooky Grandpapa?”

“Yes,” Robin says slowly, like Hal is dumb. “Do you have a problem with that?”

Aside from the way Batman is positively glowering at him, Hal is also now faced with a pissed off little goblin child who’s been raised by Nightwing the last year. He very carefully and quickly tells Robin there’s no problem, “I was just surprised, is all,” and then books it across the room.

Robin beams up at Batman, who gives his hand a little squeeze before leading him to come sit at the meeting table with him.

“Come on,” Batman says, his tone practically announcing to the room how much he adores this new tiny addition to the Batfamily, “you can sit with Grandpapa during the meeting, and then I’m going to take you to the gym for a new training simulation, alright?”

“Alright!”

Robin sits in Batman’s lap the entire meeting, his face very serious as he pays attention to every word Batman and the others say. Meanwhile, Bruce is getting a total kick out of how much it freaks everyone else out whenever they hear Dick call him Grandpapa.

[eternallyhauntingthehouseoflove]

Bat-Boys in Bed

I couldn’t find a good gif, sue me

Dick Grayson’s mouth is filthy. And he gets enough praise, so I think he’d be into praising you instead.” You’re so pretty, all fucked-out and dumb…just for me” as he pounds into you, panting in between words.

He’d also be into touchy sex positions, like missionary where he can hook his nose into your neck and wrap his arms around you. Dick would be into you giving him hickies.

I think Dick has an insane stamina—round after round. His hips would meet yours at a punishing pace as he muttered out praise,” this cunt is so warm and wet for me. My beautiful girl.” And he place wet kisses to your neck and cheeks.

Dick isn’t above moaning, but he’s not pornographic about it.i see him whimpering and begging if he’s getting a blow job or if you’re on top and teasing him, but I don’t see him moaning as much or more than you.

Jason Todd isn’t much of a talker during sex, but I do believe he moans. He’d be a lot more gentle with you than popular belief thinks. Especially if we’re talking older, mature Jason who’s passed his “fresh from the pit madness.”

I do believe Jason has a choking kink and I’ll die on this hill. And it doesn’t have to be his hand around your throat or vice versa. It can be him shoving his cock to the back of your throat and feeling you pulse and throb around him.

He enjoys, mature Jason too, seeing your eyes go wide and glassy. Jason loves to pull his cock from your mouth after you’ve had enough and seeing your lips plump and pink. He loves the slight flush of your tits.

Jason is a lot more eager to switch roles and be on the bottom than Dick. If you’re feeling top-ish and want to ride. Jason wouldn’t argue as you ground down on him, rolling your hips and leaving a trail of slick on his pelvis.

He’d beg through covered lips as you shushed him and picked up your pace, driving your hips forward and giving Jason the release he’d been craving.

I don’t know enough about Tim or Duke, sorry.

Bruce is harder to read because there’s decades of lore, canon, and stuff that’s not in the main continuity. Many writers have different versions of him that some favorite—however, here goes.

Bruce is a control freak. Whether you planned it or not, you’d end up in a dom/sub dynamic. He’d be choosing your clothes, picking which jewelry he buys, telling you when to cum before you even realize it.

I also think he has a power imbalance kink, just a little bit. Nothing extreme or megalomaniacal. So I truly believe you wouldn’t be rich (sorry lol); you’d maybe be a lesser known vigilante, and that’s if Bruce is healthily interested in you. I believe you’d be a civilian, but a smart and compassionate one. We know Bruce isn’t one to dumb himself down for company; we know Bruce is attracted to smart women, but none of his past relationships worked because they didn’t have a heart ( I love Talia, but he real; she wasn’t Mother Teresa).

This one may lose people, but I believe Bruce has a breeding kink. It would be a chance for him to restart. His only blood child is an arrogant, cold assassin and the rest of his children are masked vigilantes who dance with death nightly. But with you, his love, he could have a child not born in pain and anger. He’s older and wiser; he’s not as vengeful and mission oriented as he was when he adopted Dick and Jason; Tim sought him out, and Damian came with a chip on his shoulder.

Bruce is unyielding in his refusal to switch places. He’s too paranoid and enjoys control too much to bottom. The closest you’ll get to topping is bossing him around from the bottom.” faster, pretty boy.” You reached up and caressed his face as his pace stuttered and he spilled into you, gasping and groaning as he did.

You wouldn’t be fucked in the suit or the Batmobile. And he hates being called Batman in bed. The closest you’d get to mixing sex with his vigilante life is getting fucked in the Batcomputer seat.

Damian Wayne is the kinkiest Batfam member. I see Damian, who didn’t undergo such a beautiful arc, having a blood and bondage kink.

Damian preferred to tie you down rather than tie you up. He cares for you, and tying you up puts you in an uncomfortable position (he doesn’t want that) and it screws with your circulation. And if he ties you down, he can see your face as he places the vibrator right on your clit. He can see you try to knock your knees—to no avail.

Damian loved to take a small knife and inflict a wound, if you can even call it that. It was feather soft, and you loved when he would wrap his mouth around the wound and suck the blood. Then he’d kiss you, letting the saliva and metallic taste mingle.

I believe Damian would be into hickies and spanking too, but not the for the violence like I see from the kinkier side of the fandom. He would be into hickies, spanking, bandage, and blood play for the markings. It all boiled down to markings. And that’s not to claim that those activities didn’t get you both off, but Damian’s true enjoyment stemmed from the possessiveness of it all.

That’s why he likes to untie you and massage the rope imprints, then walk you to the mirror and spin you around, letting you see all the prints and marks. He could feel himself harden again, but he knew he’d break you if he ever tried to impose his libido and stamina on you.

Don’t kill me, but Damian isn’t into cunnilingus. He also wouldn’t bottom, not like you’d want him to. If, and that’s a huge “if” ( it’s months into the relationship too), he does bottom, it’s not traditional bottoming. Damian would top from the bottom,” go slower, grind harder, beloved.” And he’d grip your hips hard enough to leave prints, because marks, duh!

Damian likes sloppy blow jobs. I know he’s proper and clean, but trust me. Spit, moans, and whimpers; that’s what gets him off. And seeing your cheeks flush and your breathing quicken, but you keep going lower and taking more of him in. He appreciates the determination, and it makes him feel in control, huge, and dominant which strokes his ego.

[4kingz]

the price of a hot photo req : could you do how the proxies would react to y/n sending them a hot photo/video of themselves while they are at work? Maybe how they would punish y/n? warnings : 18+ mdni, smut :3 toby/masky/hoodie x reader (separate)

♥︎ ticci toby you knew he'd check the message right away—he always did. he's currently in the middle of a mission, hatchet in hand, when his phone buzzes—and he checks it without a second thought. he goes silent. dangerously silent. not a breath, not a twitch. just him staring down at his phone like it personally offended him. like you personally offended him. you’re sitting pretty on the bed, neck tilted to show just the right angle of the cute little bite mark he imprinted on you last night. you knew exactly what you were doing when you took that photo. the lighting? immaculate. the smug glint in your eye? criminal.

he slowly tucks his phone into his back pocket, jaw flexing. that poor target's about to get his soul snatched in record time, all so he can get back to you. you're halfway through doing literally nothing suspicious—popping some chocolates into your mouth while scrolling mindlessly through videos on your phone, when he kicks the door wide open. you barely have time to flinch before he’s in your space, grinning like the devil and pinning you down right where you’re sitting. eyes wide, you try to point out that the door’s still very much open, but all that escapes is a pitiful little whine. "oh, now yo-you're shy?" he teases, already pulling your legs apart. yeah, you're not walking tomorrow.

♥︎ masky (tim) tim runs on two settings : dead serious, and get in the damn car. today, he’s running full throttle on both.

he unlocks his phone, almost happy to see that you’re texting him. it obviously meant you were thinking about him while he was away. 

he opens the video you sent, expecting… well, he’s not sure what he’d expected. maybe some dumb text simply stating you missed him, maybe something mildly irritating. 

but definitely not this. 

the second it starts playing, that tight-jawed, deadpan expression snaps into place like muscle memory. no reaction, no blink, nothing. just pure, eerie stillness. but inside? absolute chaos.

you’re in the shower, warm water streaming down your skin as your hands wander—slow, teasing, shameless. you lean back against the tiles, eyes fluttering shut, fingers sliding lower with every soft breath.

a quiet moan slips past your lips, followed by another, this time laced with a needy whine. "can’t wait for you to get back..." you murmur, to no one but the steam.

a muttered “fuck’s sake” slips out under his breath, like it physically pains him to say it. how the fuck was he supposed to focus on carrying out his mission when you’re at home waiting for him like this? the world could be on fire and he’d still be stuck in that van, jaw clenched so hard it might give-way and crack, eyes staring through the windshield at nothing.

but his brain is on loop—replaying your video, over and over again, tormenting himself.

when he finally comes home, it’s worse. he’s calm. too calm.

you barely get a hello before he shuts the door behind him and says, low and firm, “bedroom. now.”

you obey, obviously. but it’s not what you expect. guess you’re both gonna be surprised tonight, huh?

there’s no immediate contact. no heat. no orders, or dirty words. just his presence—looming, controlled, infuriatingly close. you can feel the tension rolling off him, but he doesn’t touch. doesn’t let you have anything.

he pins you with a stare that could melt concrete. his voice is barely a whisper when he leans in, lips brushing your ear: “thought you could distract me at work?”

you whimper, and he just smirks. “now you wait.”

and you do. squirming, whining, every second of it torture. exactly as he planned.

♥︎ hoodie (brian) brian’s good at keeping his composure. really good. that is, until he opens your message and sees you. 

you’re wearing a hoodie of his paired with matching underwear that perfectly mirrors the color. sitting on the floor, every inch of your body positioned in the most stunning pose, the kind that leaves him breathless. you were breathtakingly beautiful. a soft, sharp inhale leaves him, his eyes scanning the screen. he runs a hand down his face, a smirk tugging at his lips as he locks his phone.

every person he talks to for the rest of the day gets nothing more than two-word answers. his brain is stuck on you, replaying the image you sent, and he’s not even pretending to focus anymore. he’s thinking about you—about what you did—and he’s gonna make sure you feel it later.

when he gets home, you’re expecting something different. maybe a quiet chuckle, maybe a comment on how bold you were. but no.

he starts off gentle. too gentle. sweet kisses, soft touches. his hands on you are tender, fingers tracing your skin like he’s savoring you.

you start thinking, okay, maybe he’s not mad… but then— “you wanted attention, right?” his voice is low, dangerous, as he growls against your throat. the softness is gone in an instant.

everything flips. he’s all hands now, rough and commanding, taking what he wants and making sure you feel every second of it. all night.

it’s a slow burn, and you know you’re not getting out of it anytime soon.

you wanted his attention. you got it. all of it.

[aftertheleaving]

Not A Threat II

Pairing: Damian Wayne x Reader

Genre: Action, Humor, Slow Burn, Tech/Engineering AU(?)

Warnings: Mild swearing, canon-level violence, light injury mentions (Jason’s bleeding, etc), Batfamily banter

Word Count: 880

Notes: if you can’t tell, i suck at labeling, so if this is mislabelled, i’m sorry. yell at me nicely and i’ll fix it.

1, 2, 3

You did not think he would actually use it.

The baton was half-finished. Okay, no. It was completely finished, but still—it was a dumb little sketch you made during your lunch break, just to prove a point. You hadn’t even meant to build it, and yet, three sleepless nights and one burnt thumb later, you handed it to him in a literal box with the words “Not A Bomb” written across the lid in Sharpie.

The only warning you gave was:

"Just don’t press the orange toggle until it’s fully powered. I haven't tested the kickback. It might kill you. Or launch you. Both?"

He took it without a word.

Just looked at it. And you.

Then walked away.

So you assumed that was that.

Until two nights later, you're scrolling on your phone during your subway ride home—and your entire feed is blowing up.

Masked vigilante stops traffickers using unknown high-voltage device. No comment from GCPD. Gotham’s Robin seen wielding unfamiliar weaponry—

You slam your phone shut.

No. No no no.

He used it?

---

Meanwhile...

In the middle of a half-lit Gotham bar, Red Hood is bleeding on a stool, holding a cracked helmet under one arm and pointing at Robin’s weapon like it just personally insulted him.

“I’m sorry. What the hell is that?”

Robin doesn’t even look up. “A baton.”

“No shit, it’s a baton—where’d you get it?”

“I built it.”

Jason barks a laugh. “Oh sure, and I made mine out of recycled coffee machines. Try again, demon spawn.”

Tim peers closer. “That’s not from R&D.”

Dick raises a brow. “Did B sign off on new field gear?”

“No,” Damian says, with the calm of a bomb ticking down. “And he doesn’t need to know.”

Jason narrows his eyes. “So you’re saying you showed up with some mystery stick that has better conductivity than half of our armory and just—what? Found it in a dumpster?”

Damian exhales, quiet. Then, with a glare: “I got it from someone. And it works.”

“Wait,” Tim blinks. “Is it from your intern?”

Silence.

Jason practically wheezes. “Oh my god.”

Dick laughs. “Ohhhh, you’re so dead.”

---

He waits until patrol ends.

Stands on a rooftop. Wind snapping against his cape.

Then dials a number he was never supposed to have.

You pick up on the third ring.

"Hello?"

He pauses.

"...It's me."

You squint. "Me who."

"...Damian."

You almost drop your phone. "WHAT— how did you get my number?! Wait—no, never mind, you probably hacked HR, didn’t you—"

“Not important.”

“That’s absolutely important!”

“I’m calling,” he says over you, “because I need to inform you that you’re being terminated from your internship at WayneTech.”

You stop dead.

“What.”

“I’m serious.”

Your heart drops into your stomach. “Oh my god—no, no, I didn’t mean to break policy—I didn’t sell anything—I just thought it was cool and—”

“You’re not being terminated for misconduct.”

You blink. “Then what the hell for?!”

“Because you’ve been promoted.”

A beat.

“What?”

“To Special R&D,” he says. “Effective immediately.”

You sit down. “No. That’s not how firing works.”

“You’ve been moved to a classified division. Higher clearance. You're now working with Lucius Fox.”

You press a hand to your chest. “I—why??”

“…Because you're smart,” he says, voice quieter. “Because the baton worked better than anything we’ve been issued in months.”

You fall silent.

“…Are you calling me from the cave?”

“No. You said not to.”

“…So where are you?”

Wind hums faintly through the speaker.

“…A roof.”

You bury your face in your hands. “You’re such a drama queen.”

---

The next morning, you show up at WayneTech R&D… and nearly have a stroke.

Bruce Wayne is already waiting.

Lucius Fox stands beside him, flipping through something on a tablet.

You freeze in the doorway.

“Hi,” you squeak.

“We know who you are,” Bruce says.

Okay. Terrifying.

Lucius points to the baton in his hands. “You built this?”

You nod.

“No lab?”

“Nope.”

“Scrap and apartment tools?”

“Yes, sir.”

He and Bruce exchange a look.

Then Bruce asks, “How fast can you make another one?”

You blink. “With real tools?”

Lucius gestures to a full bench. “you have access to anything.”

You stretch. Tie your hair up with a pen. Flex your fingers.

“Time me.”

Twenty minutes later, you slide the baton across the bench. Fully operational. Core stabilized. No short circuits.

Lucius picks it up and blinks. Bruce’s brow furrows.

“She’s faster than you,” Bruce mutters to Lucius.

“I didn’t even see her calibrate it,” Lucius says.

“Didn’t need to,” you shrug. “It’s a twin of the last. I built it in my head first.”

Bruce raises an eyebrow. “Where’d you learn this?”

You grin. “My dad. Retired engineer. Said there was no point in paying for engineering school if he could teach me himself. Started me on wiring when I was six. By ten, I was building drones out of blenders.”

Lucius: “She’s either a genius or a war crime.”

Bruce: “Both.”

Damian: “Told you.”

Bruce sighs. “You’re hired.”

“You already hired me.”

“Then this is your official test. R&D, under Lucius. Batcave access pending.”

You blink.

Then you grin.

And take the ID badge Lucius slides across the table.

Weapons Developer II.

Not bad for someone who duct-taped their last prototype casing.

@corvoqueen @datgurl-rhea - who asked for pt 2

And @ur-mums-house who I think will defo like a pt 2.

Bye bye 👋.

[mixingandmelting]

Can you please write dumb and cute things batboys will do while they are crushing on reader?

A/N: i wrote something similar here and here as well!

Dick:

He grins, chuckles and, when he’s in a really good mood (usually after he had a chance to hang out with you), hums to himself a lot, whenever he’s texting you or thinking about you

It’s gotten to the point he’s treated as a creep by his teammates and family, catching him in the act when he’s on his phone and his thumbs won’t stop moving or looking a little too daydream-y whether it’s on a mission, working at the tower, or resting at the manor

Constantly mentions in you in conversations in his circle of those he’s closest with when he’s being teased where it makes the person regret their actions as they get annoyed with the amount of him talking about you

Sometimes follow you around out of curiosity of your daily life when he catches you out in public

Most times it’s not really following you but more of him trying to catch up and chat with you as he chases you across the roof before jumping down and striking a conversation. Again, though, when he’s feeling curious on top of his desire to ensure you’re safe, it happens

Jason:

All the books he had been reading including Art of War by  and The Republic  are put to the side as he starts drifting back to the good ol’ classic romance starting with Pride and Prejudice

On top of having the feelings, he uses them to research the best strategy to get close to you physically without being obvious to you or the others

Goes through mental imagery next and all sorts of training before he does it the next time he hangs out with you

Literally, he had worked on how to scooch closer to you so his leg would socially acceptably and ever so slightly touch yours for ten days prior 

Made a really tiny, mini collection on things that reminded him of you during his time traveling outside of Gotham from small trinkets to, of course, books

Tim:

Feels like this gets slept on a lot but with how large his range of disguises are and actually/actively uses alternative identities, he’s the one to stay on top of fashion trends so he could dress well in front of you

Doesn’t matter whether it’s casual, civilian, or even in his disguise, he puts effort into looking presentable and good in your eyes

Stays up to date with your socials if you have any, frequently checking to see if you posted anything new especially during times he’s not able to chat or text you

 Presses like on most posts you make. The ones he doesn’t press like are ones that features Damian or Jason (because he’s petty like that) while the ones that he “rarely” comments or reposts features him whether it’s civilian Tim Drake or Red Robin

He’s an offender for sneaking stuff to you either in your bags or placing them at your place with a short note, usually things you needed though pricey (e.g., camera, phone, a new blender once) or something you like to make you feel better like a bag of candy or a plush

Duke

Subconsciously writes your name randomly whenever he’s thinking about you when he’s writing anything including his notebooks a couple of times, an essay he nearly turned in ending with your name as part of the last sentence, a report to the big man himself 

Has gone to some of the Bat family members for romantic advice, trying to be all discreet about his crush. Doesn’t work as they all tease and coo at him for it, but he still end up getting good ones

He didn’t tell anyone this but Bruce is the last person to go while Dick is the best

If you write or doodle something in his notes, he ends up keeping it and not throwing it away despite having the mundane thing written on it. It’s his keepsake of you and like crap he’ll throw away something when it’s from you

A bit cringe but there are times where he would stand in front of the mirror and get caught on practicing how he would approach you for the day by his relatives and the rest of the Bat family from how aware he is of you

Damian:

Becomes just like his dad where he’s carrying everything in his pockets and belt now with things that are useful for you

Lost your pencil? He pulls one out of his pocket and gives it to you. Need candy to make you feel better? Pulls one out from his Robin belt holder

He’s a bigger fiend than Tim when it comes to giving you things mysteriously, without you knowing

He’s always leaving something for you especially when he goes on long missions, whether it’s locker, book bag, school desk, your desk in your room, on your kitchen table; the list can go on and on

Doesn’t get pricey like Red Robin, but something conveniently small for you to carry or cute to make you smile after getting tips from Dick about it

[flwrkid14]

That story about Tim being dukes big bro had me like 😭💝💝 do you think Damian eventually gets jealous? He sees Tim taking care of Duke, help the kid with his homework, maybe even make him his favorite food when Alfreds out on a vacation. He sees Tim (Drake), who's often blunt and sarcastic to Damian, look relaxed and happy with Duke. And Damian can't help but to feel sad and resentful. He's improved so much since he first came to Gotham. He wonders why Tim can't see that he has improved, like, "why is it never enough?" But alas, both him and Tim are bad at communicating this.

hi anon !! this idea got me right in the chest.. damian’s not looking for tim’s approval—he never was. but watching how easily tim fits around duke, how natural it is between them… it makes him wonder. maybe he wants something like that, too. i couldn’t stop thinking about it, so here’s what came out. hope you like it !!

Damian never wanted Tim’s approval. not really.

Tim was just there, from the beginning—irritating and smug and sharp-tongued in a way that grated against everything Damian was raised to be. he didn’t admire him. he didn’t want his praise. they were rivals, and maybe always would be.

and for a while, that was enough. it made sense.

but then Duke came.

and Damian isn’t jealous, not at first. he likes Duke. respects him. Duke is steady and bright and disarming in a way that makes people want to be around him. Damian understands why people gravitate toward him.

but then he starts noticing things. little moments, barely there. Tim waiting for Duke outside of patrol. Tim saving him a slice of Alfred’s pie. Tim helping him with his chemistry homework, even though he never offers to help Damian with his Latin translations.

and that’s fine. it’s all fine. it’s just that—

Tim is different with Duke.

softer. warmer. open in a way Damian’s never seen from him. he catches Tim laughing one night—really laughing—over some dumb inside joke Duke made. and something in Damian... stalls.

because he didn’t want Tim’s approval. never needed it. but seeing the way Duke and Tim are with each other—comfortable. close. easy—makes something twist inside him.

maybe it’s not approval he wants.

maybe it’s connection. belonging.

because Damian has grown. he’s changed. he’s worked so hard to be better, and he knows he’s not the same furious, isolated kid who came to Gotham all those years ago. but when he sees Tim lean in when Duke talks, when he sees the way Tim calls him “kid” with affection instead of exasperation—it makes him wonder:

why couldn’t we have had that?

why didn’t we?

and maybe he knows the answer. maybe they were both too guarded. too sharp. too stubborn to ever let the other in.

maybe they said too many things they didn’t mean (or maybe they meant every one, and that’s worse) and now neither of them knows how to take them back.

Damian doesn’t regret who he is. but sometimes, when the manor is quiet and the hallway lights are dim and he hears Duke and Tim talking in the kitchen like brothers, like friends, like something he never let himself want—

he wonders if it’s too late to want it now. because he thinks he does. or maybe he just wants the option to want it.

either way, he doesn’t know how to ask for it. and Tim doesn’t know how to give it. and the silence just keeps growing between them.