#Bruce covered with several small children:

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 112

Once again, you know who is underutilized in DCxDP crossovers? Battinson. Skrunkly shivering boi. Who we should definitely give children to care for. 

 Did you know that Jason canonically had a brother named Danny? Well you do now, and it should also be used more. 

 We all want to give Battinson a robin, so why not give him four for the price of two. He of course gets Dick from the circus- he’s never going to go into public again, this was the first time he’d gone to do something out of his comfort zone for a while and look how that turned out. 

 And on one of the nights that Dick has to stay home (Alfred insists he must finish his homework if he wants to go out on patrol) Bruce returns to the batmobile to find not one child, but two. Is Danny reincarnated? Just appeared one day? Who knows, but he’s here now and going to protect his little brother. 

 Bruce might have tears in his eyes when they both hit him in the kneecaps and bolt because even with the armor it still hurts. How he manages to grab both kids he’s not too sure, but he ends up getting them food after they put the tires back. He also doesn’t understand how he’s convinced them into the car but they’ve both conked out and maybe he’s panicking and needs Alfred- 

 D-Dick why is there another child here? He’s the neighbor, cool cool. W-what do you mean he’s home alone, he’s like, 4?? What do you mean he’s been alone for a week now???

…

Alfreeeeed-

[sirxlla]

I’m not sure if you’re taking requests, but I have a prompt of Jason Todd who has a secret family, like he has a wife and children. The batfam has no idea about until Jason’s wife and kids show up somewhere looking for Jason and they all just so confused as to who this woman is and why her kids keep calling Jason “dada”.

Secrets & Family

------------------------------------------------

Warnings: fluff, angst

Prompt: ^^^^^

Notes: female reader, italics are actions and thoughts.

Requests are open btw.

-With that said, it's all under the cut-

-> Part 2

Jason decided a long time ago that he wanted a family outside of the Bat-family, but he didn't necessarily know how to go about it. Bruce would use it like a tool if he ever needed to bring Jason down, and that's the last thing he wanted to happen to you and the kids, so he's kept it quiet.

Everyone thinks Jason has several random shit holes to lay low in which he does but they dont know that you've got one three year old and another on the way. The first one was planned, the second happened by accident, but Jason planned to take care of all of you guys no matter what.

Dick had planted the idea that it was weird how much Jason was gone, how he had love bites but never mentioned a woman. He would have nail polish on his nails and marker on various parts of his body, but never mentioned where it came from. All these things didn't add up, so of course they're all curious.

Bruce and Dick tracked Jason down to several locations, Tim and Damian want to respect Jason's personal space. Dick and Bruce shrugged it off, coming up to abandoned warehouse after abdandoned warehouse but not this time. This time they came up to a nice house in central Gotham.

They sneak in, treating it like every other location they have been in, the lights are out, but they're sure he's here cause his bike is in the driveway. They creep around searching room to room coming to the only room in the house with a light on.

Bruce and Dick burst in the room, a three year old screaming in pure fear hiding behind Jason. A woman shooting up in bed, terror on her face.

"Dada!" The little girl sobs into Jason's back, Jason covers both the pregnant woman and the small child.

"Jason- We didn't...We didn't know." Dick says immediately feeling guilty for outing his brothers personal life. Jason gets up with pure fury on his face as he looks at his father and oldest brother, he pushes them out the door, closing the door behind him.

"I see how much you trust me, Old Man." Jason's words are like ice, he's never been so furious. His eyes filled with rage.

"You've been acting shifty lately, Jason. We were afraid that you-" Bruce attempted to justify his actions before Jason got any angrier.

"Don't even try bringing up my past addictions, Bruce. This is my business, my family! You just scared the hell out of my babygirl and my pregnant wife!"

"You have kids?" Dick asks Jason before remembering the little girl clinging to Jason screaming "Dada" clearly scared out of her mind when a man dressed in all black in a batsuit walked in.

"I have a kid and one on the way." Jason tries not to direct his anger at his brother. Dick's always been curious about the lives of his brothers but he'd never invade privacy, not like his father.

"Jason, if I had known they could've moved into the manor. It's plenty large enough." Bruce still tries to calm the anger and fire that burns in Jason's eyes, he's protective which is understandable but Bruce has never been on the recieving end of that kind of stare from Jason.

"I would've told you eventually. I just don't like the idea of you using my family to get your way the way you've dangled Lois off a skyscraper to get Clark to listen. They're my family, not tools to get back at me when you don't agree with my methods."

"They're- Jason, I'd never do that. They're my family too. I didn't even know you had a girlfriend let alone a wife. I gotta say I am impressed, Son." He's smiling now, he's proud of Jason. He's done exactly what he taught him to do which was hife any weaknesses. He's kept his entire family from him, the one man who knows everything about everyone.

Jason's anger cracks and begins to fade. He thought Bruce would berate him over all this, and he'd use his family like pawns, but he was wrong. In keeping you all safe from his family he forgot his family is also yours by marriage.

"Yeah, Yeah. Whatever. Go clean up. I don't need you scaring my daughter with your Bat-Getup. You too, Grayson. No armor in the house, my wife's rule." He shoos them off before heading back into his bedroom to you and your daughter.

"I'm sorry, Angel. I didn't know they'd find out so soon." He apologizes to you as he scoops up the young girl who's still sobbing. "It's alright, Pumpkin. Daddy scared off the bad guys." He rubs her back and calms the small child giving you sympathetic and apologetic eyes.

"It's alright, Jay. They were gonna find out eventually, though Id rather them have asked questions than barge in like a literal Bat out of hell." You do your best to reassure him, he protected has always protected you both and you trust he still will now.

"I know. They're going to change. I'm probably gonna let them go home tonight. I didnt realize the time, It's way too late for introductions and you need sleep for our baby boy." He tells you and as soon as he sees you nod he texts Bruce and tells him you'll meet with him at a later date cause of what time it is and such.

Jason crawls in bed with you, putting the little girl between you two before cutting the light. He pulls you and your daughter close like you might disappear in a moments notice. Letting the two of you get sleep before he even began to think about it.

-> Part 2

-> Masterlist

-> Send me requests/prompts if you'd like

[brucewaynehater101]

WHUMPTOBER 2024: PROMPT #7

Only for emergencies, unconventional weapon, magic with a cost, "It's us or them"

Brief synopsis: Tim has a plan that Bruce can't find out about

Bruce would rather die than kill. It's his ironclad belief and a boundary he seemingly will never cross.

This is why he and Jason scream themselves hoarse or pummel each other on Gotham's rooftops. The younger man claims this is why so many of the Bats have died. Bruce's unwillingness to accept murder by his own hands or those of his children is ultimately their downfall.

This is one of the several reasons why Tim has contingencies Bruce is unaware of. That, and the man's consistent effort to shape Tim’s paranoia even against their family.

During a month-long JL space mission where Batman's presence is necessary, the other Bats stay behind to cover Gotham. Their relationships to each other and Bruce are wobbly, but at a higher point. They even have the occasional hangout and casual interactions.

Tim will initiate individual or small group gatherings, but he's never tried to jam all of the batkids into one room together. Not before this, anyhow.

Due to this reason as well as their current friendliness with each other, all of them agree to meet at Tim's Nest. He prepared a meeting table, chairs, snacks, pizza, drinks, and a projector in his version of the batcave.

He spends three hours lecturing them on several plans that Bruce is never to hear about. He starts off soft with stuff like safehouses, vehicles, and weapons Bruce doesn't know about. He then goes into truth serums, media strategies, and extreme force measures.

He ends the meeting with the one procedure he was nervous about.

“I could have kept this from you. In fact, you should be aware that I have contingencies some or none of you are aware of. Plans I hope to never initiate.”

He sighs as his eyes flicker back to the slide. “This would be the absolute worst case scenario with no other options. I would expect each of us to exhaust all methods before we try this.”

He glances at each of the batkids despondently. “I don’t care if you'd rather sacrifice yourselves. I can't lose you. I won't. Not again.” His eyes linger on Dick, Steph, Cass, Jason, and Damian specifically, but he tries to nonverbally communicate his unwillingness to lose Duke or Barbara either.

The others may not agree or be happy with the plan, but they allow Tim to have it. They accept their role in it as well. Given their work, all they can do is hope the need never arises.

~~~

Of course, the time occurs like they all feared it would.

Their father, Bruce Wayne, stares at his kids with open fear. He can't see a way out of this and he's already envisioning his children dead and dying. The World's Greatest Detective can't find a way out of this.

He would willingly sacrifice his life for his kids, but even that is not an option. His death would afford them mere minutes.

He’s watched all of his children, officially or not, throw themselves at the issue again and again. Each came up with more erratic and desperate plans. All of the plans failed or wouldn't work.

He also notices when each member finally gives up, as they, one by one, turn to Tim. Red frantically shakes his head and types faster, eyes flying over multiple computer screens as he tries to find any other answer.

“Red Robin.”

The vigilante refuses to acknowledge Nightwing. There must be another way. He will not utilize that spell, the one that will obliterate thousands of lives, unless he's absolutely sure there are no other avenues. They are running out of time, but surely there's another way.

“Tim-”

“No! I can find a way. I can!” He's not even looking at Dick as his eyes scour over the multiple computer screens. If he can just figure this out, he will soothe the dejected lines in Dick's face as well.

A hand settles on Tim's shoulder. “We're going to die.”

Finally, Red’s hands pause. He's frozen as the weight of the words and their hidden meaning cause his shoulders to slump in defeat. “Fuck.”

The others in the room refuse to make eye contact as they come to terms with their decision. Bruce's eyes dart between his kids with a puzzled frown. He's analyzing the situation but doesn't have all of the clues.

With the grave expressions on all of his children's faces, he is not expecting Red Robin to pull a pink rubber duck from his belt. Tim approaches Bruce with pressed lips and a guilty gleam to his eyes.

“This will help us stop the invasion.”

Although Batman doesn't move an inch, Tim nods at the man's incredulity.

“It's completely harmless to humans but lethal to their species.”

And now Bruce understands the guilty and hesitant stances around him. Batman can not and will not approve of murder, even to save the ones he loves.

Considering that all of the other Gotham vigilantes have deemed this the only road, Bruce will need to find a non-lethal option by his lonesome. He will need to secure the weapon and fight his way out.

Batman quickly performs a nerve strike on Tim's arm and swoops up the tiny pink duck. Only once it's in his grasp does he realize his mistake.

No one moved to stop him.

Batman's lens covered eyes glare into Red Robin's.

Red's stare bears down on him as Batman's knees give out.

“I'm sorry, Bruce. If I have to choose between the ones I love and an enemy, I will always choose my family. No matter the cost. I don't expect you to forgive me.”

As the sedative drags him under, Bruce falls asleep knowing his kids will be safe covered in the blood of their enemies.

[i-yap]

Hello here another request from Dick Grayson. I hope you are well and that you are not putting pressure on yourself with these requests, sleep well.

Could you write something about Dick's Girlfriend who is an artist 🎨 she went to university and graduated with a degree in Literature or something like that she is like an artistic soul she writes, plays the piano, paints maybe she knows a little about ballet [she is just as flexible than Dick] and speaks several languages. Maybe Dick convinced her not to "work" [on a schedule for someone else] so they could spend more time together and so she wouldn't fill her little head with things like forced labor or bills. He covers all expenses and more. He spoils us too much. ...it also makes it so that you focus only on your art out of passion, writing, painting, playing music, learning to play the guitar 🎸 just because you want to and have the time.

and on the nights when he has patrol you go out with your friends "Sex And The City" style.

You also learn to cook in the huge kitchen of their shared apartment and he tries everything you make, he also cooks for you (sometimes) you also do a Skincare routine for him and he loves to smell just like us.

Dick Grayson x artist!y/n

man has money, I can see bruce paying all his vigilante children and he got alfred's billion plus man is the best detective at the pd .

So how could you expect him to not feel sorry for his -pretty but stressed overworked surrounded by idiots who don't know art having to commercialize herself and loosing her sense of style and art because of the nonsense requests of her bosses -gf. Your pain is his pain after all.

You know you are very creative I mean- your ballet could give grayson a run for his money. You have always been talented, drawn to the creative arts. But here you are stuck being a designer for a corporate job. AND IT SUCKS BALLS.

The boss keeps asking you to design templates and after designing 3 boring asf template she's like yea that fine now just do content. But even the content cant be fun or innovative. It has to be corporate and easily consumable and its just so dumb like let ai do it and why even hire you if she wants you to do the labor that is just ctrl c ctrl v LIKE FUCKK

And your creativity is dyinggg. you cant remember the last time you picked up a paintbrush and you loved art. Now you're loosing a sense of self and you don't even know if any of this is worth it. WHY NOT BE A BARISTA?? AND DO ART ON THE SIDE...CUZ OF THIS FUCKING ECONOMY. ONLY THE RICH CAN BE ARTISTS ONLY THE RICH AHHHH

(sorry this turned into a little self vent ahem ahem)

anyways dick sees your talent and he sees your pain and...he wont take no for an answer.

So here you are, live in girlfriend , but he calls you an investment whenever you feel down because dick is paying for both of you.

So other than art, you make him food. And he makes you food too dw girlie but you do it out of passion of trying out new recipes .

You go out and teach students dance at underfunded public schools and perform without contracts...just for the love of performing or focus on writing a book.

You spend the day focusing on your passions and build up your skill, having a loving supportive boyfriend.

Dick is really busy with detective work then as Nightwing so you spend the alone time focusing on your work rather than being distracted by your pretty boyfriend...that too actually.

And with this amazing man by your side, you have plenty motivation.

SO when you do become a hit, No one is prouder than Mr grayson here who believed in his girl all along.

and If you don't? you can always start a small art school, language school or ballet school. There is no lack of talents

And with such a talented gf , dick has the perfect trophy wife who he loves very very much. You are the talk of every gala, you accompany him on business meets (language skills and art is universally needed) and honestly dick couldn't ask for more!

In modern society its now believed that the only way to get self respect is to be a working woman. Why cant we stop telling woman to be something? Staying at home, raising or not raising kids, focusing on your passion and loving your husband ( future husband too) is just as acceptable as going to work( if you can find a man like dick ofc). you do work hard, you did have a degree or not depending on your circumstances and you are genuinely working towards your goals. And dick comforts you in it. He sees your passion he sees your talent and more than that he loves you so no matter what, he's supporting you through this journey.

I am actually writing a batboys skincare thing which ill post over the weekend. Im sorry this turned into a personal rant. Im working two jobs and studying 3 courses while preparing to start university..so this hit a little close to home . What I would do to have a dick grayson just marry me and let me focus on my passion rather than juggling various stuff. This blog is maybe the only thing I do for myself..which is sad cuz I had a lot of hobbies. Anyways ...hope this didn't suck too much.

[starlight-blackbird]

10 facts about Rainn Elliot-Wayne, please??

@dancingsunflowers-ocs ✨💙✨

Thanks so much for this ask, Alexandra my love!! <3

While Rainn is the only one of Bruce’s children who doesn’t take part in the rest of the family’s vigilante activities, she does wind up asking Barbara to teach them some of the hacking and surveillance work she does, so she can potentially be helpful in that way whenever one of their siblings might need it.

Her love interest is going to be M’gann M’orzz, a.k.a. Miss Martian.

Rainn and Damian have kind of a special bond that no one else in the Batfamily really understands - they’re one of the only people Damian feels comfortable confiding in, and also pretty much the only Batfamily member that Damian hasn’t tried to kill. No one outside of the two of them is quite sure why this is.

Rainn sings lead for a cover band called Pink Slip (named after the band from the 90’s “Freaky Friday” movie), which she performs in along with several of their Gotham Academy classmates. They mostly get gigs performing at high school dances around Gotham.

(Because of Rainn’s general aesthetic, most people expect the band to perform some kind of punk or rock music, but they’re actually a pop cover band.)

Rainn also works part-time at a small bookstore called Chasing Pages in downtown Gotham, near the Academy. It’s kind of the perfect job for her, because they’re a big bookworm who loves to read.

Rainn has read Little Woman a total of five times (and cried a grand total of three times while watching the Greta Gerwig movie adaptation, which is definitely her favorite movie version of the book).

Despite all the training Bruce has tried to give them for galas, Rainn is a terrible dancer. She always gives their best effort, but she lacks any real sense of rhythm outside of singing.

They are, however, an amazing baker and cook, and she is basically the only person in the house Alfred will allow to help him make dinner.

It is purely thanks to Rainn and their sister Baylie’s meddling that Dick and Wally, Tim and Connor, and Bruce and Lily ever get together at all. Baylie often jokes that they should set up a matchmaking business (and honestly, if they did, it would probably be amazingly successful).

Tagging @askmarinaandothers, @bayisdying, and @mrsjaderogers!!

[wolfjackle-creates]

So I got permission from @hailsatanacab to do an angsty take on the dinner scene. I've just been thinking about it nonstop since I first read it.

Word count: 1,762

-----

Danny followed Tim into the dining room, only to freeze when his eyes landed on the figure at the head of the table.

Bruce.

Bruce was looking at two of the other people at the table, a small smile on his face as they argued over something. Danny couldn’t focus enough on their voices to figure out what their fight was about, though.

All he could remember was the last time he’d seen that smile. Things had been dire; they hadn’t had good news in days. But then Nightwing had shown up unexpectedly, safe and mostly uninjured. And he and Danny had started a pun off to distract some children they’d been protecting.

Bruce had watched them with that same small smile.

“—ny? Danny!” Tim waved a hand in front of his face, breaking his line of sight and pulling Danny back into the present. “Are you okay?”

Danny opened his mouth, but closed it and swallowed. He dug his nails into his palms to try and keep himself in the present. “I— Sorry. I just. Sorry.” He’d had a plan, and this wasn’t it. Instead, he was here babbling like an idiot. “Um. Why is Bruce Wayne here?”

A boy, several years younger than them, scoffed at him. “Why would Father not be here? It is his home.”

Danny’s mouth fell open and he spun on Tim. “His home! You live with Bruce Wayne? What the hell, Tim! Why didn’t you say something!”

Tim started laughing and held up his hands, Danny rather wanted to punch him. Through his laughter, Tim said, “Dude, I thought you knew! It’s not a secret that B adopted me last year.”

“I’m not from Gotham!” Danny couldn’t keep the hysteria from his voice. Bruce was right there. He was whole and healthy and there was no giant hole in his chest and he wasn’t cold and rigid in death, unable to say even a final word before the life left his eyes. Danny hugged himself and tried to push the memories away.

That had never happened. Never would happen now.

Tim’s laughter died and his eyes narrowed. Danny recognized the look of a bat trying to put together a mystery. “You really didn’t know? Sorry.” He shook his head with a wry smile. “At least I know you aren’t friends with me for my wealth and connections.”

“Tt, your friend appears to be severely lacking in intelligence, Drake,” declared the young boy again.

And now Danny recognized it. Robin. That was Robin. Several years younger than he remembered. He flinched. Dan hadn’t succeeded in killing the boy, but he’d been permanently injured before Danny had ever made it to the future. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry.” He looked back to Bruce through his bangs.

He was still there, frowning now, with narrowed eyes. The exact expression he’d worn when Danny had first met him in the future. Danny’s eyes burned, but he couldn’t help but smile at the familiar expression.

“Don’t apologize!” said the man sitting next to Robin. He’d put an arm around Robin’s shoulders and covered his mouth. “Damian was rude to you. I’m Dick, Tim’s oldest brother. Sorry if we surprised you.”

Oh, that was Nightwing. Danny tore his eyes from Bruce and looked around the table, trying to place some of the other faces. He hadn’t met all of them in the future, or he would’ve recognized Tim. But he’d gotten close to Bruce and Dick. And, while Robin was always prickly, he’d forgiven Danny at the end before helping him get back to the past-present.

“Danny?” Tim nudged his shoulder.

Danny shook himself. Shit, he couldn’t keep spacing out like this. “I— Sorry.” He winced. Could he say anything else. “Just. It’s a lot.” He huffed a laugh. “Having dinner with Batman was not on the agenda. At least… not yet.” He glanced back at Bruce.

Everyone froze. It was so silent, Danny could hear the blood rushing in his ears. Bruce was alive. Robin—Damian—had never lost his hand. Danny wanted to rub at his eyes, wipe away the burning he could feel.

But he was held fast by Bruce’s stare.

A girl forced out a laugh. “Batman? What are you talking about?”

Danny flinched again. He hadn’t meant to say that.

Bruce shook his head, breaking their eye contact, and fixed a falsely-cheerful grin at Danny. “Hello, Danny. Clearly we’ve surprised you. I apologize for that, but I’m afraid there’s no Batman here, only me.”

Bruce’s voice broke something in Danny. He never thought he’d hear it again. At least not directed at him. Even after moving to Gotham, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever actually reach out, whatever plans he’d considered.

But here was Bruce. Talking directly to Danny. He lost the fight and burst into tears, launching himself at his future-past mentor.

He wrapped his arms around Bruce, burying his face in his chest as he sobbed. Bruce used a different aftershave in this time. And a different soap. He’d clearly showered recently and didn’t smell of kevlar and sweat and blood.

He smelled different, but the way Bruce had frozen under his hug, the way his arms were held out in shock. Those gestures were the exact same as they’d been the first time Danny had hugged him in the future that’d never be.

And Danny couldn’t stop crying his relief into Bruce’s chest. “You’re alive, you’re here. I’m here. You’re alive.”

But this Bruce didn’t remember anything. He didn’t know who Danny was or why he’d react like this. He had never taken time from the end of the world to mentor a distressed orphan. Danny pulled away. As soon as he was free, Bruce took a hurried step back.

“I’m sorry,” he said. Again. Ancients, couldn’t he say anything else? He wiped at his eyes, still unable to stop crying.

“Um, that’s okay,” said Dick. “But… Are you okay?”

Danny huffed a mirthless laugh and wiped his eyes again. “I— Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t plan for it to happen like this.” He shot a pathetic attempt at a glare at Tim who was staring back wide eyed. “It’s just— Fuck. Damn it.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Bruce had made him repeat the code dozens of times. And he’d kept up the practice once he’d returned to the present.

Bruce spoke again. “I think you’d better explain.”

Danny winced again. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry, I’m trying.” He took another breath and let out the code in a rush. “ETA fifteen minutes. East-West alps route for birds over unrelenting nonstop dangers.”

“Holy shit,” said a voice from the table.

But Danny ignored them, staring just at Bruce who took a step forward, eyes wide. He shook himself then looked Danny up and down, cataloging his clothes and appearance. For the first time since he’d run to Gotham, Danny felt self conscious of the frayed cuffs of his sweatshirt and the stains he’d been unable to get out of his jeans.

After a long minute of scrutiny, the others whispering getting louder in the background, Bruce’s face softened and he took another step forward to clasp Danny’s shoulder. “Are you safe right now?”

Danny leaned into the touch and nodded. “Yeah. I— I wasn’t even planning on approaching you yet. But, well. When I saw you sitting there…”

Bruce nodded and led him towards a chair. “Take a seat. Let’s have dinner and we can get to know you. And then we’ll bring you to the cave and we’ll get to work on your file.”

Alfred cleared his throat. “And I’ll prepare a room for you, Master Danny. Which room did you use before?”

Danny rubbed the back of his neck and smiled ruefully. “I’m afraid I didn’t have one. Things were… bad in the future. I never lived here. Never even met Tim before, which is why I didn’t recognize him. Though I think we talked over comms. It’s Blackbird, right?”

Tim shook his head. “Uh, no. I go by Red Robin.”

“Huh. Red Robin. I’ll keep it in mind.” Danny looked to Dick. “And you’re Nightwing.” To Damian, he said, “And you’re Robin, right?”

Damian gave a curt nod, but Dick was much more friendly. “You’ve got it, Danny. Welcome to the family!”

Two other people had seats at the table. A black boy a bit younger than him and a blonde girl that looked about his age. “I’m afraid I don’t recognize either of you.”

“Duke, Signal. I’m the newest member of the group.”

“And I’m Steph!” said the girl. “Spoiler in the field. Never seen the time travel code used before. When are you from?”

Danny shrugged. “I’m from this time. But about two years ago I was sent ten years into the future due to a world-ending threat. Worked closely with Bruce until…” he trailed off. “Anyway, I got close to him before figuring out how to stop the threat in my own time and thus prevent the situation in the first place. So I came back. When we realized what I’d have to do, B gave me the code and told me to go to him if I ever needed help.”

Dick shook his head and gave Bruce a stern look. “B! How could you? If it ever happens again, be sure to tell our brother to come home as soon as possible. Poor Danny here probably thought he shouldn’t come home unless his life was in danger or something!”

Danny cocked his head. “What do you mean, ‘brother?’ And ‘come home’?”

“See!” Dick gestured at him. “You give him the family code and he doesn’t even know what it means!”

“Family code! What are you talking about!” Danny looked back and forth between Bruce and Dick. “You didn’t say anything about that!”

Tim sat down next to him and started piling food onto his plate. “That code he gave you? Means he considers you one of his. For better or worse, you’re one of us. Dysfunction and all.”

Danny looked back at Bruce, mouth opening and closing. Bruce was blushing very slightly, but he nodded. “They’re right. I apologize if I didn’t properly explain the significance of the code to you previously, but we’re glad you’re home now.”

Once again, Danny couldn’t stop the tears. But this time he was smiling, too. “Thanks for trusting me so much.”

“ETA fifteen minutes, kiddo,” said Dick. “From this point on, we’ll always have your back.”

-----

Hope you all enjoy!

Family Dinners - dpxdc

"Holy shit, you're Bruce Wayne!" Danny gaped, jabbing a finger at the man sitting at the head of the table.

The bustling dining room goes silent as everyone turns to look at him.

"Danny, who did you think was going to be here?" Tim asks, disbelief plain in his voice and Danny feels his face flush red.

"Sorry, I, uh, I guess I just never put it together. Tim Drake-Wayne. Wayne Manor. It, uh, makes sense now." He laughs sheepishly and scrubs at his neck before slumping back down into his chair.

"Well," Tim says with an indulgent sigh, "at least I know you're not just friends with me for my connections."

"Yeah, I'm really sorry, I just never thought about it, I guess."

Danny sinks lower as everyone around him laughs. Come to dinner, he said, the food is the best, he said, ignore the family, he said. Danny really wishes he'd listened to Tim and just ignored them—almost as much as he's regretting accepting the offer in the first place—but... he's having dinner with Batman.

Ancients, that's so weird!

The last time he saw Batman was in the future and, suffice it to say, it was not going well. There hadn't really been time for family dinners there.

Wait. Family dinners?

He peers around the table, openly gawking at everyone as it all clicks into place.

"Everything alright, Danny? Now realising who everyone else is?" Tim asks with a roll of his eyes.

"Uh... something like that..." Danny mumbles as everyone laughs again.

From further down the table, the smallest Wayne scoffs and clicks his tongue.

"I thought you said he was smart, Drake?"

"So, you all do it, too, then?" he asks, ignoring the jibe. Danny's only a little bit jealous as he thinks of how much easier they must have it, how much easier it'd be if his family had been on his side, too. "You all work together?"

"Nah," Dick says from across the table with a brilliant grin. "Tim's the only one that works with Bruce, we all have different jobs. I'm a police officer in Bludhaven."

"Disgusting." Danny blurts out without thinking—because seriously, what kind of self-respecting vigilante would also be a police officer?—before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."

The whole table laughs again, the loudest being the blonde girl a few spaces down from Dick. Look, Danny wasn't really paying attention to names when they were all paraded in front of him. Dick only gets remembered because his name is a joke.

Come on, Danny, recover!

"That's, uh, not what I meant, though."

"Oh?" Dick asks, cocking his head slightly to the side. Is it Danny's imagination or does his smile tense slightly?

"Yeah, I mean like, you know, in costume. It must make it so much easier to have everyone together like this."

"Costume? What do you mean?"

Yeah, Danny's not imagining it, everyone tenses up at that. It's really only now that he's realising that this probably isn't how he should bring up that he knows about their... night time activities. In fact, he probably shouldn't be bringing it up at all.

"Uuhhh..." Danny looks wildly around the table as he continues making his stupid noise. Think, think, think! There must be a way out of this!

"Danny?" Tim asks, looking concerned.

"Oh, Ancients, this isn't how I wanted it to go at all," he mutters, slipping even further into his chair. He's almost on the floor now and he so, so wishes it could just swallow him up.

His real first meeting with Batman was meant to be cool! He had planned to be Phantom, maybe save them from a tight spot, prove his worth as a mysterious and powerful ally as thanks for the help Batman gave him in the future.

"Danny, what are you talking about?" Tim starts tugging on his sleeve in an attempt to pull him back up from his pit of despair.

Eventually, Danny relents and sits up straighter, hiding his face in his hands and whining all the while.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect him to be here and it threw me off so now I look stupid and it's so embarrassing!" he wails, flailing his arms wide. "Why wouldn't you warn me that Batman was your adopted dad, Tim? Couldn't you have let me know?"

"I'm sorry, what? Danny are you alright? There's no way Bruce can be Batman, look at him!"

"Yeah," the blonde girl laughs from the bottom of the table, "look at him! That's a wet noodle of a man! Batman can actually do things, B is incapable of pretty much everything."

"Thank you, Stephanie," Bruce sighs, massaging his forehead.

It's... Those are the first words Danny's heard Batman say since everything went down and it's enough to knock him out of his embarrassment.

It's really good to hear his voice again. Especially now, when it's strong and healthy and full of personality—even if that personality is little more than a tired father right now—far better than how it had been, at the end.

Danny sits up, back straight, and grins. He's got this. He remembers it perfectly. Some people count sheep to fall asleep, Danny repeats his mantra to be certain that he'll never forget it.

"Gamma alpha upsilon tau iota mu epsilon, 42, 63, 28, 1 colon 65 dash 9."

Once again, the whole table falls into silence.

"Holy shit..." breathes the other D name (Duke? Danny's pretty sure he's Signal) from opposite Stephanie. "Isn't that...?"

"The time travelling code." The littlest Wayne says stiffly. "We have met in the future?"

"That's not just the time travelling code, Dami." Dick says, looking between Danny and Bruce. "That's the family time travelling code."

Danny's grin freezes in place.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"1 colon 65 dash 9." Dick explains, still flicking between him and Bruce. "It means you've been adopted into the family and we should all treat you as such, no questions asked."

"Tell you what, I'm about to ask a question." Danny says, dumbstruck. "You just told me it was a code to identify time travellers, not anything about being adopted! What the hell, B?"

Bruce looks about as shellshocked as Danny feels.

"We must have been close," he says finally, after opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water a few times.

"No! Not that close!" Danny reels back, taking a deep breath ready to refute it all, but... "Well, I mean, you found me when I first got stuck, and you helped me get better despite being... And then we fought together against the, uh, bad guy, before he, um, he... before you couldn't."

An uncomfortable beat passes while they all pick up on what Danny tried so hard not to say.

"So, you're not from the future, then, you travelled there and came back?" Tim asks, breaking the tension and leaning forward with a glint in his eye.

"Yeah, it was a whole end of the world thing, but don't worry about it," Danny says with a hand wave, "It's all kosher now, won't ever happen."

"What did happen?"

"Seriously, don't worry about it, we cool."

"How long in the future was it?"

"About ten years? You were pretty spry for an old man, B," Danny laughs, wishing they'd get off the topic of what happened and get back to the adoption bit.

Everyone shares degrees of a cautious smile as they relax out of the shock, and Dick—whose grin is the biggest—says, "No wonder you got the family code, you're already riffing on him like one of us. How long were you there for?"

"A week, before I managed to get back to my present and stop him then."

"A week? Jeez, B, that has to set some kind of record, seriously."

"Oh!" Danny says, sitting bolt upright and blinking in surprise before pointing at Dick and bouncing in his seat. "You're Nightwing!"

"What?"

"That's exactly what Nightwing said when Batman told me the code! Makes so much more sense now."

Dick laughs and claps his hands, delighted.

"You were not formally adopted?" The grumpy small one—Dami?—asks, his face pinched.

"I didn't even know I was informally adopted."

"And your parents? Are they alive or dead?"

"Damian, stop—"

"They were dead in the future, but they're alive now." Danny says, looking down. He fiddles with the tablecloth, twisting the fabric around his fingers as he fights down the pang of sadness that he always feels when he thinks of them now. He forces a bright smile on his face and hopes it doesn’t look too strained. "I just, uh, can't talk to them much, anymore."

"Damian," Dick warns, "1 colon 65 dash 9. Treat them as family, no questions asked."

"This is Damian treating him as family, the little turd has no manners." Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he gently bumps shoulders with Danny to knock him out of his funk. Danny can't help but send him a watery smile.

"I have the most exemplary manners, Drake, unlike some people." Damian spits, crossing his arms with a pout. "I was merely ascertaining his status to see how he could possibly fit into the family."

"I know this is all a bit sudden, Danny," Bruce smiles, ignoring Damian and reaching out to lay a warm hand on his arm, "for all of us. But if I felt strongly enough to give you that code after spending a week with you in the future, then you are more than welcome in this family, if you so choose it. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we'd like to get to know you a bit more."

"I know a threat when I hear it, Bruce." Danny snorts. "But, yeah, I get it. I'm sorry this is all so weird, it really wasn't how I wanted to find you again, but... I'm glad I did."

"So are we, Danny." Dick says, with a warm smile. "And formally or not, 1 colon 65 dash 9 means you're family. Welcome to the fun house! No take backs or refunds, sorry. You're stuck with us."

[elizabethemerald]

DP/DC Imbalanced Light

AO3 

PREV

Duke was one of the first back to the Batcave when the message came through that Bruce was bringing in an injured child. He was quickly joined by the rest of the family. Most injured parties were brought straight to a hospital, no matter their age, so the entire Bat clan were curious about what made this case stand out. A potential new sibling was an all hands on deck sort of event. 

Cass and Steph joined next, Dick was picking up Dr. Thompkins, Tim had been coordinating the Bats from the Cave so was already there. Jason and Damian would probably join later, they had been further out when the call came in but Duke doubted even the two angriest members of the family would miss out on the excitement. 

Everyone currently in the cave gathered close when the Batmobile roared into the cave. Though they easily parted to allow Alfred through to Bruce’s side. The two of them pulled a young boy out of the side seat of the Batmobile. Duke grimaced behind his helmet. The kid may be the same age as Tim, or thereabouts, but he still looked far worse for wear. There was blood coating the front of his shirt and he looked far too small, like he hadn’t been eating properly. 

With a gasp the boy in Bruce’s arms was jostled awake. He tried to squirm out of his hold, but Bruce managed to keep him in hand. Eventually the boy’s wild eyes settled on the Batfam and seemed to calm. He reached a shaky, blood covered hand out to the group as Bruce carried him toward the medical room in the Batcave. 

“Signal? Wait, I need to talk to Signal! Signal!” The boy desperately cried, trying once again to fight his way out of Bruce’s hold. 

Duke was honestly surprised that the kid was calling for him. Signal was hardly the best known of Gotham’s heroes and he felt like most kids were either interested in talking to one of the Robins considering they were usually closest in age, or to Nightwing because Dick was friendly. However with a kid clearly in distress Signal followed as Bruce carried the kid into the medical room. 

“I need to talk to Signal.” The kid was telling Bruce, trying to push Alfred’s hands away from him. 

“Danny, please-” 

“No! I have to talk to him! I have to talk to him alone!” 

Alfred looked carefully at the kid, Danny apparently, then stepped back. 

“Please make the conversation quick. You are still in need of medical care, Master Daniel.”

“It’s Danny, and fine.” 

Alfred and Bruce stepped out and the glass door of the medical room closed behind them. Duke however had eyes only for the kid in front of him. Danny was obviously in pain. He kept one hand pressed tightly to his chest, and a grimace on his face. There were also several scars that ran up his neck, the worst of which was the Litchenberg figures that crept up his neck and scattered across one side of his face, even going through one of his eyes. To Duke’s Ghost Vision the scars seemed to glow and pulse, as if still remembering the electricity that had caused them. 

Danny looked at him desperately, fear marring his face as he nervously glanced towards where Bruce and Alfred had stepped out before meeting his gaze again. Duke wasn’t sure what he needed, but wanted to get this conversation over with before Dick arrived with Dr. Thompkins. She didn’t appreciate being kept waiting when she had a patient. 

“So, your name is Danny right?” Duke asked. 

“The forums say you’re a meta.” Danny asked instead of answering. His voice came out quiet and low as if he were telling a secret. “Is that true?”

Duke put out his hand, and created a small firework display across his palm with his photokinesis. It was the same trick he did when he ran into small scared children as Signal. Just something light and silly to break the tension and it did seem to bring Danny’s focus off his injuries. 

“Yes, I’m a meta.”

“Everyone knows Batman hates metas.” Danny said, glancing nervously at the door again, his voice dropping further into a whisper. “Does he hate you? Are you forced to help him? Does he… do experiments on you?”

Duke let his hand drop out of sight of Danny as he lay on the bed in the med bay. He clenched his hand into a tight fist. Dammit Bruce. You and your stupid rules. He could see that Danny was clearly just about out of his mind with fear and just as obviously had some bad experiences that were weighing on him. Duke needed to calm him down enough for Alfred and Leslie to take of him and quickly. He took a deep breath and kept his voice soft as he started speaking. 

“Batman doesn’t hate metas. He doesn’t like other heroes like Superman coming into Gotham when they don’t know how this city works. Many of our rogues are simply humans with mental illness. Even most of the goons are just poor people who are desperate for work. They don’t need some super powered demi-god smacking them down. And he’s eased up on that a lot recently.” Duke took a moment to gather his thoughts. He could hear Dick’s car driving into the cave and knew that Leslie Thompkins had arrived. “Batman has been nothing but kind to me since my parents died. He’s trained me to help protect the city I grew up in. He may not be perfect, but he won’t hurt you, and I won’t let him if he tries.” 

Danny nodded a few times, his eyes downcast, as if trying to convince himself of something before he finally looked back up at Duke. 

“I’m- I’m sort of like you.” Danny whispered. “I’m like a meta.”

The words seemed like they were physically painful for Danny to say, and considering how tightly most metas held onto the secret of their powers that wasn’t too surprising. Duke didn’t have the time to puzzle out what exactly “like a meta” meant as opposed to just being a meta, but he knew at least he could provide Danny with some comfort. 

“Well, Danny, one meta to another, I promise you Batman won’t hurt you because of your power. While you’re here you’re safe.” Duke looked up as a knock sounded at the door to the med bay. He could see Leslie and Alfred standing on the other side of the glass door. “Agent A has helped me a lot when I’ve been injured and Dr. T has cared for a lot of people, including metas that have come through her clinic. You’ll be safe with them. May I let them in?” 

Danny took just a moment longer to think about it before he nodded. 

“Will you stay with me?” His words sounded so pained and scared that Duke couldn't help but agree immediately. 

He opened the door for Alfred and Leslie, then turned his back to remove his helmet and apply a paper surgical mask. He scrubbed his hands just as the other two did before rejoining Danny at the bedside. Once the door was closed and the older two were getting ready, Duke addressed Danny. 

“Is there anything about your physiology that would be different from a non meta?” He said the words loud enough to clue in the other two. Danny nodded and gripped the rails on the patient bed tightly in fear. 

“My core temperature, heart rate and respiration rate are lower than a standard human’s.” He recited the words like he had rehearsed them many times. “My blood is considered a hazard and needs to be destroyed, preferably by incineration.” 

“Is your blood radioactive?” Thompkins asked, her experience helping other metas would be invaluable with helping Danny. 

“Radioactive?” Danny seemed confused by the question for a moment before shaking his head. “No, it’s uh, corrosive I think? Jazz didn't mention radioactivity when she gave me the script to memorize.” 

Leslie carefully cut Danny free of his blood soaked hoodie and shirt. Duke again had to clench his hand into a fist at the sight of a Y shaped incision that spanned Danny’s entire torso. Like an autopsy. Or vivisection. The cut had been messily stitched and stapled closed, but Danny had clearly popped a few stitches when he panicked after seeing Bruce. Surrounding the largest injury were numerous scars. Small burns, stab wounds, the Litchenberg figures continued across his torso and several precise cuts that could only be the result of deliberate torture or experimentation. 

Alfred raised his eyebrow, but didn’t comment as the two of them set to work examining the injuries. Leslie’s lips pressed into a thin line and she also kept her comments to herself. Danny seemed grateful for their reticence. Duke knew he had seen a lot of the worst of the worst during his time as a vigilante in Gotham, but this still pushed it to another level. Danny was as scarred as any of the Robins except for Jason. 

The two healers worked quickly cleaning and dressing each of the wounds, though the largest still needed more work. The lights over head flickered with each deep breath Danny took as they cared for his injuries. Duke used his powers to keep the lights steady for their work. 

“Master Danny, we will need to remove the old stitching and staples to properly close and stitch your largest injury.” Alfred said. “We can apply an IV to let you sleep through the procedure.”

Danny was already shaking his head. 

“Doesn’t work on me.” He hissed out past his gritted teeth. 

“We have meta-strength-”

“Doesn’t work on me.” Danny shook his head again. “Even the strongest painkillers and anesthetics burn off almost immediately.” 

“You have an enhanced metabolism?” Leslie asked. 

Danny shrugged, then pressed his head back against the pillow. “I was awake when mom did this to me, I can handle you fixing it awake too.” 

He refused to look at anyone else in the room even as looks of fury and rage crossed each of their faces. He reached out blindly and Duke took his hand to hold. Leslie and Alfred grimaced but nodded. If they didn’t want Danny to bleed out they needed to fix the slap-dash stitches and staples. 

Danny didn’t scream while they worked and while he gripped Duke’s hand tightly, he clearly wasn’t using even a portion of his full strength. The metal of the bed frame squeaked and whined in protest as he gripped it hard enough to leave a handprint in the metal. 

Whatever Danny’s ability was combined with his own Ghost vision to create disturbing images flash around Danny’s body, like an after image on a dark night. Neither Alfred nor Leslie reacted, so it was clear Duke was the only person who could see them. Each lingered in his eyes for a moment before fading to nothingness before being replaced by the next. 

He saw two people, one a woman and the other man with a build similar to Bruce’s leaning over Danny’s body, blades in their hands and macabre smiles etched into their faces. He saw a flaming crown burning in the air over Danny’s head. He saw two teens Danny’s age and someone only slightly older trying to lift and carry Danny while obviously fighting with someone. 

Frozen fractals appeared in the afterimages, growing with each after image into twisting and writhing tentacles. This was the most painful part of the operation as the two healers worked to pull out a staple that had gone through his skin into his sternum. Danny arched his back, his breathing coming in slow pants. When he opened his eyes they glowed like Jason’s did. Danny’s ears grew pointed and where he was biting his lip to keep from screaming his fangs grew long and pointed. Finally Danny couldn’t take any more and blacked out fully, his eyes rolling back into his head. 

For a short time the afterimages still burned their way into Duke’s vision. The fractal tentacles continued to writhe before fading. A man appeared before Duke, looking down at Danny’s body in distress. He was wearing a long, hooded cloak. In the next flash he was suddenly an old man, looking beaten and worn by the passage of time. Then he was suddenly a young child, younger even than Damian, staring down at Danny with that same distress clear on his face. Finally the man returned to his original age and looked up to meet Duke’s eyes. His head tilted to the side in curiosity before he glanced down at a pocket watch that was hanging from his cloak and gave it a firm nod and disappeared. 

The last of the flickering images slowly vanished as well, Alfred and Leslie still not noticing them at all, as the two of them finished their work and settled a blanket over Danny’s heavily bandaged torso. Duke patted Danny’s limp hand with his own before he left the med bay. The rest of the Bat fam were gathered around, but Duke made his way straight to Bruce. As he went Cass came and put a supportive hand on his shoulder. He wondered idly what his body language was telling her that had her reaching out at this moment. 

“You need to do some serious PR work on Batman’s views of metas.” Duke said shortly to Bruce. He didn’t really care what his mentor’s motivations were, they needed to change and they needed to let the public know. 

“The kid’s a meta?” Jason asked, leaning forward. 

Duke nodded, still not taking his eyes off Bruce. 

“I don’t know what he thought you would do to him, either run him off or cut him open.” Duke hesitated as he examined the momentary grief that appeared in Bruce’s eyes. “Again. Cut him open again. Someone vivisected him.”

A sharp noise sounded as something snapped in Jason’s hands. Red Hood had green light blazing in his eyes as Dick immediately moved to grab his shoulder, whether to comfort him or to hold him back, Duke didn’t know. Bruce leaned forward, his face once again stoic. 

“What are your thoughts on his abilities?” He asked. 

If Duke wasn't so suddenly exhausted he would either roll his eyes or join Jason in trying to tear Bruce a new one. Of course when he’s distressed he falls back on old, bad habits. Examining threats and planning counter plans. 

“Alfred and Leslie know enough about him to care for him for now. You can ask about the rest of his powers once he’s up and about.” Duke said. He wasn’t going to reveal Danny’s clearly hard fought secrets. “The one thing I will say is that while we can expect him to be fragile, we cannot treat him with kid gloves. Danny’s got more scars than anyone I’ve ever seen who isn’t a bat. He’s clearly a fighter and deserves to be treated like one.” 

Duke turned away. He needed to be done. He needed to just shut his brain off for a little. 

“I’m taking the next couple of days off patrol. Can someone cover for me?” 

He was half afraid that someone would accuse him of trying to cheat his way into the spot of best brother for their new potential sibling. Instead Stephanie and Dick immediately volunteered to help cover some of the daylight patrols. 

Duke walked away, calling the shadows of the cave to him. With a family half raised or trained by ninjas they were all used to using the shadows and darkness to their advantage. But none of them could command the shadows and make the darkness answer their call like Duke could. The darkness of the cave swallowed him, hiding him completely from sight as he searched for some place to sit and think about everything he had just seen. Everything that Danny must have gone through. 

@starkcravingmad, @blacksea21090, @rainybyday

[ahsokatroi]

Tim insists Bruce isn’t dead, but nobody really believes him. Certainly not Damian.

He was taught at an early age that death, while something to be avoided, isn’t something to be afraid of. And there’s no point in grieving or feeling sad about it. It made it easier to watch people slaughter each other in the League, and occasionally do the slaughtering himself.

This is different. This is his father. This is the man he heard legendary tales about and looked up to all his life, the man who was meant to train him and make him a worthy heir, the man…who he wanted more than anything to look at him one more time with that soft, affectionate pride (though he’d never admit it). Damian was never taught how to move on from his death, how to let go of any ideas he had about the future…how to grieve.

Because that’s what this is. Grief. Damian would be a fool not to acknowledge it for what it is. How else would he crush it as the weakness it is and overcome it?

He wanders the halls, unable to stand the silence and stillness of his father’s office. And why shouldn’t he? He’s the blood son, the rightful heir. And with father gone, the manor is his. And he has every right to inspect his inheritance. Because that’s all he’s doing. Inspecting. And if his eyes occasionally flick to the dark corners, half-hoping to see a familiar cloaked figure, that’s nobody’s business but his.

He’s never really explored the top floor before. Not with any real earnest. This oversight becomes obvious when he passes a tapestry. He previously dismissed it as a mere decoration. But upon more thorough inspection, it conceals a door. It’s locked. How quaint. He picks the lock, and the door slowly swings open.

Whatever he was expecting, it wasn’t this.

It’s not a terribly grand room, but the sheer amount of…stuff…occupying it makes it look somehow both bigger and smaller. Every surface is covered in photographs, drawings, posters, and other various memorabilia. Many are framed. Many are loose. Several are laminated. There is not a single inch of wall that does not have something tacked onto it. There’s a small desk in the corner, with a box of empty frames and a laminator, waiting for further items to join the collage.

The first thing Damian notices is the utter mess that is the walls. The second thing he notices is the contents of the items making up the mess.

The largest items are posters for a circus act, the Flying Graysons. Scattered in the surrounding area are pictures of Richard as a child, along with who Damian assumes are his parents. As his eyes move further along the wall, the contents change. Instead of John and Mary Grayson, the photographs feature Damian’s father, and Alfred. Some with Richard present, some without. Then further along, Todd comes to occupy the photographs. Then Gordon. Occasionally the elder Gordon. Brown. Cain. Drake. The Titans. Then…Damian himself. Scattered throughout all of the photographs are drawings, most giving the appearance of having been done by children.

He had no idea this many photographs of himself existed. He had no idea Richard had saved his drawings.

Because of course this is Richard’s doing. Who else would do something…create something…so obscenely sentimental? Something so…admittedly…beautiful?

“Master Dick is quite the collector.”

It’s only because of his training that he doesn’t flinch. How the hell did Pennyworth sneak up on him?!

“It’s a mess,” he replies, sticking his nose in the air. Pennyworth sidles beside him, hands folded and looking softly over the memorabilia, and says nothing. Damian’s eyes travel over the pictures. “Why would he waste his time collecting such trivial nonsense?” he asks, trying to seem unaffected. Pennyworth looks at him, a knowing look in his eyes, but doesn’t bring it up.

“Because this is how he grieves, Master Damian.” He gestures at the walls. “Look around. Every single person in these photographs is precious to him. Some of them have been lost to him and then returned. Some are truly gone…” he pauses. Damian knows he’s thinking of father. He’d be a fool not to know their relationship was more akin to that of a father and son than that of a servant and his employer. “But all of them live in on in the memories of those who love them. This room, these images, they are visual reminders of that.” Pennyworth places his hand on Damian’s shoulder. He considers shrugging him off, but decides against it. “That is why Master Dick collects and displays these things. Because even though it can hurt, it is good to remember.”

After some time, Pennyworth gently guides Damian out of the room. He closes the door and locks it, informing him that it’s a private room, and it would be wise to avoid mentioning to Richard that he’d seen it. Damian doesn’t say anything, but he knows he doesn’t have to. Pennyworth knows him well enough to tell when he agrees. He doesn’t immediately walk away, though. Instead he considers for a moment, before speaking.

“Are there any other photographs of father in this manor?” he asks, his voice quiet. Pennyworth smiles at him.

“Of course, young master. I’ll prepare some tea, then we can go look at the photo albums in the library.”

I wonder if, when Dick became part of the household and was in his “I’ll kill anything that looks at me wrong” phase.

Bruce would 100% go out of his way to see if he could hunt down each and every one of the recordings of the Flying Graysons he could.

He would pay collectors for self recorded videos, (since they were a famous performance family even before the tragedy) and buy photos that people took of them while they were around the world, collecting every advertisement poster he could of them.

Just so Dick would have something to remind him of them, of the good days. So he could remind him that they would want him to be smart about this, and not let the rage and resentment take over completely.

[7thcirclebaker]

Lex Luthor trying to be like a not terrible dad and be supportive but is definitely off the mark;

Tim and Kon get married, he is there like unsure how affectionate to be but is like, here's the original Luthor farm because idk he doesn't use it and they clearly have a place in Gotham but Connor loves Smallville so maybe they want a place there and mercy and several parenting books are like sentimental things are good though, this is a good idea. And it is tbf. Connor can still do farm chores at the Kent's and stuff but they have their own space and can like add to it. It becomes like less haunted by the terrible childhoods had there over a few years.

Timeskip, slightly

They've been married like over 3 1/2 years and Lex while getting better is still lacking some like emotional intelligence and awareness, genius doesn't mean smart in all ways. So he's always given gifts on theme to the classic wedding anniversary themes which at 4 years is fruit or flowers which is stumping him to plan. Because like sure he could gift them like enough trees to plant a sizeable orchard but that doesn't seem like it's hitting the mark and Bruce can definitely gift them that with like extra oomph from Dr.Isley (because obviously, the gift giving is still in a way a competition between inlaws) So he's looking over the files he has on both of them, and a parenting book, and as he flicks through the files there's like the closest thing to a baby photo Conor has, which is a small tube with a blob. But this sparks a train of thought that goes through several stations and none of them are common sense ville in Lex's head right. Fruit > Fruitful Loins > Children > Expertise in Kryptonian human blended clones > A gift only I could easily do for them > Average time in a marriage before having kids > current public opinion of the couple > increase in public standing for them and me by having kids > ?? > Wins all round tbh!

It's not necessarily hard for lex to get both their DNA, but it takes some time and then getting viable clones is another little bit so he's delayed on getting it to them. So they get an anniversary card ( hand delivered by mercy who's so happy to not be around "Soon to be a grandfather" Lex Luthor) and it says something along the lines of sorry your gift this year is slightly late, my plans were going perfectly so I blame their tardiness on the Kryptonian" So they call Clark to be like Hey, did you bust any of lexs more morally dubious plots recently because looking at this card it seems like you did, not mad though, just let us know. He's like no, I didn't, I'll like scope it out though, btw here's a weird Kryptonian house plant for the apartment that I got Ivys help to grow, happy anniversary. Tim is slightly worried because Clark comes back being like nope, it's all a-ok, totally fine. But like he can't do much because him and Connor have a Hawaiian holiday booked to just relax and be themselves, nice anniversary present from Bruce (While he brings several hundred trees to the farm and Ivy to plant them so a surprise orchard appears when they get back - let's see lex top this) they come back after a week and the next day...

Meanwhile Clark went to go talk to Lex to be like I hope you're not doing anything too weird because like co-parenting is weird but don't scar our son anymore right. Only Lex is like at yet another secret lab checking final development on the fraternal twins so when Clark finally tracks him down (mercy ignored him for a solid 5 hours because she had too much cover work to do and also no patience for this) he's standing in a classic evil pose watching a pair of growth chambers with babies in them. (He says it's just a power pose and it's kind of a default for him after years in board meetings) Clark is immediately like dude what the actual fuck! Why did you try and make more clones when your parenting at the moment is freaking out the son we do have?? "Aah, but these aren't our children, they are our grandchildren." Pauses for dramatic effect "Do you think Kon-El and Timothy will appreciate the gift of children the way their parents have not?" Clark bluescreens. Reboots. Thinks really hard at super speed. And then starts politely asking Lex questions to find out why, how, have you talked to anyone else about this plan at all, why again, etc. Lex's train of thought finally gets diverted for an emergency service in common sense ville. Communication is a thing, that he has not done. But at this point it will ruin the surprise and this way you can say you knew about the grandchildren before batman "The worlds greatest Dective" so please don't tell them.

A definitely not misty eyed Batman steps out of the shadows of this lab "We won't tell them, that's for you. Though I will make sure Alfred prepares the nursery" He will say he found it through detective work and careful following - he tracker tagged Clark and once it took more than three hours for him to find and talk to Lex, Bruce was prepped to Zeta wherever he found Lex and provide backup because he was also sus of the in-law. Clark goes home and tells Lois and she's like, normally parents just complain and guilt you into having kids like yours did, not decide it was taking too long so I'll make them for you and hand them over wrapped in a nice blanket. But this is Lex so she isn't as surprised and also excited because babies.

Batman and Superman have totally been acting weird this whole week which only like a dozen people noticed but one of them was the Flash so there's a JL betting pool on why. The only thing they can for sure tell is that it's good news. Tim and Conor get called for a Titans mission as soon as they get back from holiday and even though it's short it's tiring but like Bart fills them in afterwards about the Goss while they wash up before heading back to the Gotham penthouse and neither of them have any idea about why their dads are acting weird, it disturbs them.

Next morning they're having a slight lie in, or that was the plan if not for them hearing the intercom buzz and the faint sounds of crying babies while Lex asks politely to be let up. Tim doesn't actually hear this, being an insomniac who needs sleep and cuddles, but Connor does and him getting up to let Lex+ in disturbs Tim. They get dressed and make coffee while Luthor is in the elevator. Tim is drinking gods nectar when Connor moves to let Lex in who comes in with a pair of the fanciest nappy bags slung over his shoulder and a file folder. Mercy (the ever tired absolute boss in need of a payrise) is behind him pushing a double buggy which she pushes into the apartment and then leaves to let them have privacy while she gets the rest of the stuff. Tim starts drinking the coffee faster when he sees the buggy because he's not awake enough yet. Connor asks whos are the kids. Lex is like "Yours, I informed you that your gift for your anniversary would be slightly late. You'll need to pick names for them in the next three days and fill out the forms located in this file to register the birth. Don't worry we've got paper work to show they were created as part of an experimental surrogacy program for LexCorp so no one will know they're created with cloning technology" He's said this barefaced to try and not give away that he's nervous about their reactions. Tim does a spit take and Connor Bluescreens.

--- more to follow maybe at some point. Free to a good home if someone wants to actually write it out and make English good because accidental baby aquisition and TimKon parenting is a fic we all need more of ---

[ronearoundblindly]

The Stark Legacy (2)

Summary: Pepper Potts' funeral is accidentally interrupted by her daughter, Samantha. Tony struggles with loss. Bucky comes to the rescue.

Warnings: Canon-level violence, injury (vague description), blood, grief/loss. 15+ Rated Teen/Mature

One very, very important rule in this universe is that the super soldiers DO NOT AGE. It becomes a recurring thing that is both a blessing and a curse. Enjoy!

Funeral, part of Book 1: Reality (see previous or series)

CHAPTER TWO— June 2025

Sam peeked out the window to see the long line of black cars in the drive of Avengers Headquarters. The view from Natasha’s room offered a good spot to watch people arrive while a black dress was laid out for her. There came Peter Parker, then the Barton family, then Maria Hill. Happy Hogan greeted each arrival, signaling in the direction of the memorial.

“Come, Sam,” Natasha interrupted, “go ahead and put this on.” She checked a box by the door, adding, “and have you seen your shoes?”

“They hurt my feet,” Lil'Sam complained automatically.

“I know, but you only have to wear them for a little while.” Nat sat at the corner of the bed and reached to stroke the girl’s hair. “We should brush this before we go down.”

The young Stark had her father’s dark features, and her plethora of hair tangled easily. Natasha was worried she would hurt Sam by pulling so hard, but the girl seemed unfazed.

“Auntie Nat?”

“Yes, Sam?”

“Is Uncle Thor gonna be here? He’s funny,” she asked, smiling.

Nat sighed. Sam was excited to see all the family friends though unable to grasp the occasion. “I’m not sure, doll, but we won’t be playing today, okay?” She put down the brush, spotting the shoes Sam tried to hide stuffed beneath the side table. Nat dreaded how long this day would be.

There was a knock at the door, and through the crack, Dr. Banner’s voice gently rolled in. “It’s about time, ladies.”

Silently, Sam was rushed down huge windowed halls, everything suspended by gleaming metal. There was no casket in the room, just rows and rows of chairs. As she looked around, Sam seemed to just miss the gaze of everyone there, and when she found her father, his eyes were down, covered by sunglasses. Immediately to Tony’s right, Peter Parker stood, and once he noticed Lil'Sam, he swooped in to pick her up. She flashed a giant smile which he returned effortlessly.

Natasha kept her face stony and shrank ever so slightly as Bruce put his hand on her shoulder.

It was a sea of black swirling under white concrete, and even though Sam was propped up by this lanky man, no one met her eyes. Every cough and sniffle sounded like thunder, echoing off all the glass.

Sam, feeling tired, bored, and hungry, started searching for strawberry blond amongst the crowd. As she always did when she couldn’t find her mother, she reached for her father’s glasses and said, “Daddy, I’m hungry.”

Before her hand closed around one corner of wireframe, Tony swatted her away with a strangled “please.” The skin-to-skin contact made an audible slapping noise, leaving Tony more agitated than ever. He ordered Happy to take her outside, and while Peter made a very small protest, Sam was pulled from him and led out a side door.

There was nothing there but more glass, metal, and concrete.

“Wait right here,” Happy ordered, flustered, moving quickly up and down the hall, searching for chairs. “Stay there,” he sounded down the hall, disappearing around a corner.

Sam leaned her forehead against the window. It was overcast outside but bright, so she squinted, pressing her wrinkled nose against the glass. She fogged it with her breath several times before she heard Happy coming back.

He was slightly out of breath when he said, “all the chairs are in there, sweetheart. How hungry are you?”

“I’m tired,” Sam replied.

“You just told your dad—never mind,” Happy trailed off, looking about. Children were not his forte. “Tell you what, Sam,” he began, lowering his hands to his knees, “you stay right out here, sleep on the floor if you want, and be as quiet as you can, and after I get to say…a few words…” He stood straight up again, looking back at the double doors before continuing. “Then we will all go get some food. Does that sound okay?” He nodded his head before Sam even opened her mouth.

“I’ll be safe right here?” Sam mumbled.

Happy paused, a notable change in his expression, eyes not quite focused on her anymore. He sniffed, nodded once more, and turned around. “Right there,” he half-sobbed then opened the door just enough to squeeze through.

Muffled speech in low tones wafted down the hall.

It was soothing, like Dad reading quickly through a bedtime story while adding more side comments than the book was long. Sam sank into a seated position and then put her hand down to scoot away from the window.

She felt sand beneath her palm.

She looked, realized it was dust, fine and pale, and searched for more. Its texture was soft against the polished floor, leaving a defined trail when seen from low to the ground.

Ten feet away were larger grains and then just at the corner of the hall were pebbles scattered in. Sam stood slowly, sure to stay quiet as asked, and followed the dusty path. She was disappointed the rocks became no bigger three halls later.

The trail ended in front of yet another glass door, this one covered in fine dust nearly three feet high, finger smears around an invisible edge, and just at eye level, a blue pinpoint light parallel with the thick pane. The particles reflected the blue on its right side, but when Sam shifted her head, she couldn’t see any light. Curious, she pressed the sliding side so she could look more closely, but she quickly saw yet another light just inside the door. This one was red and flashing with letters above.

D-O-O-R-U-N-S-E-C-U-R-E-D

Sam looked around. Up on the counter by the nearest table sat a half-full glass of the deep green drink her father always served to people. She was never allowed to have any. Since no one was around, Sam stretched to reach the glass.

It was still cold. The condensation made the fine glass slippery, and it crashed to the floor below her small hands. Someone would be mad she’d made such a mess, so Sam frantically looked around for something to clean it up.

There were closed containers of bigger rocks under the next table labeled S-A-M-P-L-E-D. She recognized her name, then above them, Sam saw a cloth cover over a few more bins.

After ripping it to the floor and stomping down to soak up the green, huge saturated spots appeared where she stepped.

Fascinated by the shapes and color, Sam dropped to her hands and knees to watch her prints appear. Sometimes when she slapped a dry spot, she could hear the squelch of the wet.

The last time she hit the floor, she cut her hand. Pink dripped down to the faint green splotching, and as she slipped trying to get up using only one hand, she sliced her knee on more glass.

Suddenly she was really afraid. The floor was mostly dry, albeit covered in faint smears, but someone was bound to see things were not where they belonged. Perhaps if she put the sheet back, they wouldn’t be as mad? 

Sam tossed the cover back over the rock-filled bins. She looked down at the remaining glass on the floor. There seemed to be only heavy things on the counter, nothing small enough to move the shards, so she started pushing them with her feet. Her shoes already hurt, so when she was done, she yanked them off to tuck against the cabinet lip, hoping to hide the glass.

She could hear footsteps now.

To hide, Sam ran back to the last table, farthest from the door, and wiggled into a thick jumble of cables draped from ceiling to floor.

“I’m not troubling Tony with this. The upgrades were already postponed because of the holding site. Really?” Bruce moaned, standing at the faulty lock. “Undone by dust…” He continued to tap at the screen flashing red letters while speaking to the security officer who accompanied him. “How much longer do you think the memorial will go? I’ve got to get back to testing—“

Sam could hear her breathing. She anxiously covered her mouth, pushing a few cords out of her way.

“Whose shoe made that?” Bruce asked suddenly.

She shimmied her way farther into the cables, hearing tiny pops when she pulled her foot forward. Some connections became unhooked. Several instruments on the tables made different beeping sounds.

“What…” Bruce turned to check while calling to the guard. “Is that blood?!”

The dust on her hands tickled her nose, and no matter how hard she tried to hold it in, the sneeze shot through Sam’s sinuses. A clump of plugs came loose behind her. Lights went out and the minimal glow of security lights made Bruce’s shadow look larger than life.

“STOP,” came the guttural scream from across the lab, but when Sam tried to push her way out, something sparked above her.

“Code Green,” the security guard bellowed into his comms, “Main Lab now!”

She tumbled against one of the metal corners of a table, scraping her head on the way down. She hit the floor hard as Banner’s form shifted.

The shadow got larger.

Sam could smell smoke.

More sparks flew, momentarily lighting the hulking figure easily tossing tables aside. The fire-suppression system triggered, making it impossible to hear anything else.

Sam started to sob.

Hulk’s face lowered towards hers, his back flush with the spraying ceiling, beams above them creaking and bending.

“It’s my fault,” Sam screamed as loud as she could, “I’m sorry!”

Figures ran up to the glass; the door had automatically sealed with the fire trigger.

“Banner, back off! Hulk get away from her!”

The collective shouts became muffled by the thumping of watchers, helpless behind the barrier, then the terrible, piercing explosion of shattering glass.

Hulk didn’t move. He simply leered, watching her cry, an expression more akin to annoyance plastered across his broad face. Captain Barnes’ shield collided squarely with the massive jaw. Bucky’s huge vibranium arm promptly followed, connecting with Hulk’s orbital bone.

Sam watched the impact ripple across his green skin in the strobe of lights, confusion in the wide, pained eyes. She was sure she heard the snap of a bone, but whose?

The two tumbled to the other corner of the lab, dragging tables and equipment into a pile beneath them. Bucky slammed his full weight over and over again into the now shrinking figure.

“Stop, he’s my friend,” Sam shrieked, throwing herself closer to them. She could hear a growing chorus calling her name directly behind her.

Bucky lifted his head, flicking the long hair back, dripping from sprinklers, fist raised high in the air.

“You’re a monster!” Sam’s vision swung wildly even though she stopped stumbling forward.

“It was my fault,” she whimpered, falling, blood trickling down her face and neck.

Everything went dark.

A/N: After the next chapter, Samantha grows up super fast with some time jumps, so this isn't a kid fic, FYI.

[Ch 3: Safety]

[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

Momma is a badass?

Fandom: DC Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Batmom!reader (in the background) Word count: 1.4k Summary: Your Children don’t know about a big part of your past, but when the situation calls for it, they find out, one way or anotherm Requested by a hydrated Anon: since the request are kinda open. Can i request something where batmom was a former suicide squad member, now dating batman and the batkids dont know? Maybe they are in a dangerous fight against someone and the suicide squad helps them? only if this is okay for you. No pressure or something. Stay hydrated love

Your children knew that you were a great fighter, one that could hold herself against Bruce easily, and they knew that you had been a vigilante long before you had met their father and fallen into the more domestic role of a part-time event-organizer and a full-time momma at day and a crime fighter at night. Sometimes they had tried to ask you and Bruce about what you had done for the most of your early adulthood, but they never found out anything about what happened between your 18th and 25th birthday. A few of them - mostly Tim, Steph and Damian - had thought about finding out the old-fashioned way, but everytime they seriously considered it they remembered that not once since you had taken them in as your children have you breached their privacy without a very, very good reason. So they quickly started to forget about it again and face their own problems. What none of your children had expected was that that blank on your resume was going to be filled on what was supposed to be an easy mission in Gotham’s Docks. You and Bruce were the ones who went, Tim on the Comms, only to find that three of the most dangerous and violent - but in themselves alone relatively small - crime families had “bonded” together to defeat the one thing that kept them from ‘rising to their true size’: Your family. The two of you were good, years of beating and defeating big baddies have shown so much, but not even the two of you were good enough to defeat the small army that was attacking you now. Under the hail of bullets that were raining down on you, a few of them hitting your body armour, but luckily not you, you barely managed to dive for cover behind a metal pillar. Looking over you were relieved to find Bruce behind cover too, seemingly not hurt. He nodded at you, most likely having the same thoughts about you, before talking to you and Tim over the Comms. “Red, we need everyone here asap, this is at least a code blue situation.” “Code blue? I thought this was just a quick in-and-out,” Tim asked surprised. “Just do it, no time to explain,” Bruce grunted as he threw a Batarang at a particularly bold individual that tried to break his cover, disarming him quickly and knocking him unconscious. “I contacted everyone, Nightwing and Red Hood are on their way, ETA is at least ten minute. Robin is preparing and will be there in five. Oracle is going to take over the Comms as soon as she’s online from her homebase and then I’ll hurry over with Black Bat. The others will try to come, but are indispensable at the moment,” Tim informed you and you could hear the almost inhumane quick tapping of his keyboard in the background. Before you had the chance to answer you noticed the small circular object rolling towards you and just almost managed to kick it away and shield yourself with your cape. “We don’t have enough time to wait for all of them!” you shouted over the sound of another explosion and when you looked over at Bruce you almost saw the internal conversation, “They’re on a mission not far from here, they could be here in five minutes.” “Who are you talking about?” Tim asked, but you and your husband just ignored him. “Do it!” Bruce said after he had to dive for a new cover when the pillar he was standing behind got damaged by another granate. Not waiting another second you pulled out a small button that was protected by a glass hood. You clicked the glass hood off and pushed the button, a little relief flooding you when you saw the blinking light below it implicate that the signal was received. Now you just had to survive long enough for your help to arrive. Tim and Cassandra, closely followed by Damian, arrived shortly after, but even with the five of you, you weren’t remotely able to do more than hold yourself against the seemingly never ending attack that got worse with every minute. When you heard the flapping of a chopper somewhere above you, you could have wept with joy, but soon got pulled back into reality when a bigger explosion rang through your ears and debris from the newly bombed open roof missed you by literal inches. After making sure neither your husband, not your children were hurt badly, you looked up to find that the chopper was not the one you had hoped for when you were looking directly into the barrel of a bomb launcher. The thought of retreating filled your mind, but before you could suggest, you saw the opposing chopper blow up in a haze of fire before a very familiar crazy laugh filled your ears - even if it was still half a mile or so away. More explosions rang through the enemy lines and the shift in power was immediately feelable. You had just won the upper hand. Five ropes were lowered around you and soon after you found yourself surrounded by your former team - or rather one version of it, the suicide squad never really being one to keep stagnate. “Did ‘ya miss us sugar?” Harley crackled as she fell around your neck, hugging you with one arm while the other was occupied with shooting an enemy that had been charging at the six of you. “You wouldn’t believe how much,” you smiled and - after quickly greeting the rest of the team - got back to fighting. Dick and Jason joined the fight shortly before the end - before your win - and were surprised by the people who were fighting in such a harmony with their mother that it looked like they had been fighting with you for years, but with the fight still going on they had little time to care about it too much. The twelve of you together had an easy time fighting against the gangs and it only took a few minutes more before you left unconscious, dead (the suicide squad had no no-killing rule after all) and tied up gang members for the police to lock up. The squad's chopper had been severely damaged during the fight so the five went with you to a second-emergency base on the outskirts of Gotham to wait for Waller to send them a pick-up, leaving you with a bit of time to catch up with your old mates. While you were laughing and talking to Harley, Rick, Floyd, Digger and Tatsu like you were old friends who haven’t seen each other in a while, Bruce standing a few feet behind you - keeping up his grim persona, but not stopping you from interacting with the (mostly) villains - your children were at the other side of the room completely dumbfounded at the way their mother was acting.

“Remember that time Waller almost blew up your head because you thought it was a good idea to play pranks in the base?” you asked laughing, the others joining you. “Yeah, well, how was I supposed to know she’d react to a bit of water like that,” Dagger shrugged, but smiled at the memory. “Can’t believe it’s been so long already since I left, it feels like yesterday I almost cut your eyes out,” you smiled - you much like Katana not having been there as a criminal, but rather as a guard yourself. “Hey, if you want back, we’d gladly take you in, I still think Waller considered planting a bomb in your head just so that you would come back and bring some order back,” Rick shrugged, but you just shook your head. “Thank you, but no thank you, I have a life here now. Also I don’t think Hubby would like that too much,” you giggled a little and blew a kiss at Bruce, who responded only with a stern nod in an interaction that your children would have usually found hilarious if they weren’t so occupied with staring. “Ya’know sugah, Ah love attention, Ah really do, but even Ah get uncomfortable if dah little batlings keep on starin’ like tha’,” Harley nudged your shoulder and nodded into the direction of your children. “Oh, don’t mind my little ones, they just didn’t know about my time at the suicide squad,” you shrugged, well aware that you were going to have a lot to explain later on.

[normaltothemax]

While his appearance is somewhat surprising when he reveals his face, Cass doesn’t let it show. Merely blinks at him once before offering a small smile. < Thank you. > She’s sure it will take time to get her home. Time travel might be made easier with a speedster’s help, but given this Bruce’s appearance—and it is Bruce, otherwise he would not have accepted her declaration of Batman’s identity—she’s confident in saying that is not the case here.

Traveling between universes is probably much harder.

< Not time travel. If that helps. > On the bright side, this means she should be able to meddle all she likes to help better her alternate universe family’s lives.

Her grin grows.

“Yes,” she confirms aloud—she feels a bit more confident in her words, now that the most complicated bit has been covered—and her amusement is clear in her voice, though she doesn’t explain why she apparently finds his question so funny. She must have arrived earlier in this Bruce’s life than her own’s, if Tim is still Robin. Not only that, but Bruce is missing several children—biological and adopted, both legally and emotionally. “Tim is youngest?” She sees no point in hiding the fact that she knows all of their identities, as she’s already told Bruce she is his daughter.

The tension in his shoulder only lingers as she finger spells his name, then hers. The chances of a random child knowing about his secret identity are slim. Even smaller are the chances of said child being able to slip into the batcave undetected. She must be who she says she is. However, he is unsure of where she's from. Is she from the future? Or an alternate reality? He'll need to speak with her and run some tests in order to be sure.

Seeing no point in hiding his face any longer, he pulls his cowl back. Warm brown eyes soften as he meets her gaze. "I will help you Cass. It will take time but we will get you back to where you belong," he assures her, speaking and signing at the same time. "I don't have a daughter so we shouldn't have to worry about anomalies in that sense. Does your Gotham have Nightwing, Red Hood and Robin? They're also family and can help me help you."

[nev3rfound]

someone i once knew : b.b - p.5

with hydra in the compound and you left to fend for yourself, now would be the worst time to start remembering everything, right? (2.2k)

(anything in bold/italics are flashbacks/memories!)

masterlist / permanent taglist

- i also have an etsy shop, i just released wandavision themed tshirts if you’d like to check those out! - 

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website without being credited, it has not been approved to be shared by me. all rights reserved.)

PART ONE . PART TWO . PART THREE . PART FOUR . PART FIVE . PART SIX

(also thank you again and again for the love and excitement for this series - crazy that there’s only one part left now ah!)

“Come on! You must know something!” The leader of the trio yells as he punches you in the stomach, watching you curl into yourself, falling into the broken glass as you suppress a cry.

With a shaky breath, you force your eyes up to meet the three men. “I, I don’t know anything!” You state the same thing you’ve been telling them ever since they found you.

“Sure you don’t, Princess.” One of the others huffs before stepping forward, picking you up by your hair causing you yelp, feeling various cuts form across your exposed skin. “Now, shall we try that again?”

Weakly, you look across the room to see one of the monitors starting to power up again; FRIDAY is coming back online. “Like I said,” You force confidence, despite feeling your body giving in. “I don’t know anything.”

“Wrong answer, Princess.” The leader sighs and as soon as he raises his fist, you close your eyes before his impact hits.

*

“You must have something, right?” Steve leans across the chair as Tony keeps his eyes glued to his phone, watching as FRIDAY powers back up and the security cameras begin to switch on, floor by floor.

Tony hums in response as he moves through the various rooms on each floor. “Come on, come on,” He mutters to himself, feeling Bucky watching him from across the jet.

“She couldn’t have left the lab, Tony, check the second floor.” Bruce calls out, still glued to his chair thinking about your question- “Do you think I’m evil?”

Bucky listens as Tony’s breathing halters upon finding the camera’s now active on the second floor. His eyes scan across the screen, watching as the cameras move across each room until they activate in the lab you’re in- or were in.

“Oh, kid.” Tony sighs, feeling his heart sink as he focuses on the screen seeing shattered glass covering the ground whilst you lie limply on top of it all.

“No,” Bucky speaks up, having stalked over behind Tony. “no.” Bucky repeats himself, shaking his head. “She’ll be fine, she has to be.”

*

“Anything?” One of the men speaks through their comms, swearing under their breath in Russian whilst you sit upright on the broken glass under close watch by the other two agents. “We have a hostage.” He states, looking over his shoulder to see you bruised and bloodied.

Yet, you spare a glance to one of the hidden cameras Tony warned you about when you first took on the job. One of the reasons why FRIDAY’s systems are so advanced is due to the cameras being barely visible to the naked eye. They’re fractions of dust that linger, capturing live footage without you knowing.

With the little might remaining in your system, you nod in hope someone somewhere might see it. Even if you don’t make it out of here alive, maybe they’ll at least know what went down.  

“Head down, Princess.” You feel a kick to your side, wincing at the repetitive action adding to the bruises forming crossing your skin.

“My name is Y/n.” You spit out, defying everything your brain is telling you. “I’m not your Princess.” Lifting your head up, you smirk despite the cut on your lip tearing. “And you, you’re done for.”

A laugh escapes your lips as you’re forced back to the ground, a cocktail of cries and laughs leaving you as your surroundings begin to blur and your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“What did you do?!” You faintly hear the leader bark at the two men watching you as your eyes close, a familiar voice pulling you in and this time, you can’t resist the need for an escape.

Sitting on the bench with your eyes remaining shut, you enjoy the breeze twirling through your hair and the laughter from children running along the docks; their giggles igniting another bout of heartache for something you’ll never have.

You don’t have to open your eyes to know who the clicking of heels along the sidewalk belongs to before she sits down beside you.

“There’s still time to change your mind.” Peggy states, glancing down to notice you rolling your ring in your fingertips. “I just, I want to make sure you know what this means, the implications of this.”

“I know what I’m doing.” You tell her sternly, slipping the diamond ring back on your ring finger. “Is he ready for me?” Glancing up, Peggy nods in response as you both head toward the car waiting for you.

“Come on then, Y/n.” Peggy can’t hide the sorrow in her expression as you eagerly climb into the car. After all this time, you still can’t be dissuaded from this decision.

As you arrive, you’re guided through the corridors that you know like the back of your hand. You smile at the scientists, their assistants and even the cleaners whom you know on a first-name basis.

“There she is,” Howard claps his hands as you walk in, Peggy following behind you. “how are you feeling?” He asks, guiding you past the lab filled with technicians, adding the finishing touches to the machine in question.

“I’m ready.” You respond, walking into a small office as Peggy closes the door, leaving the three of you to talk in private.

“We’ll run this as planned, alright? You’ll be woken up in six months to ensure the machine is fit for purpose and then a year, and so on.” Howard explains, and you nod along. “No going back once you’re in there, kid.” Howard chuckles, catching sight of you playing with the diamond ring on your finger once again.

“He’d be proud of you, Y/n.” Peggy comments, resting her hand on your shoulder as tears form in your eyes. “Both of them would be.”

Sniffing quietly, you remove the ring from your finger and place it on the table, knowing it’ll be placed with the rest of your personal belongings.

“What are we waiting for then?” You ask, pushing the chair back as Howard opens the door and silence ensues as you walk toward the machine.

You remain still beside Peggy as Howard runs over a few things with his team. “I’m doing the right thing, aren’t I, Peggy?” Your lip trembles as you focus on the brunette.

Trying to hide the frown forming on her red lips, Peggy reaches out for your hand, giving it a light squeeze. “You know I can’t say whether it is right or wrong, Y/n.” Peggy admits. “But, if this is what you want and need to do, then so be it.” She adds, seeing a hint of the Brooklyn boy she loved in you as you step forward, volunteering for the unknown.

“I will be brave.” You mutter to yourself as Howard motions for you. “Thank you for everything, Peg.”

Standing in front of the machine, you watch as the metal door opens for you to step in. With a shaky breath, you lean back into the moulded space built for you.

Lying back, three scientists strap you down, asking countless times whether the straps are too tight or not, but none dare to look you in the eye.

“Well done, team.” Howard speaks up as the scientists back away, leaving you strapped in and now the reality of this is weighing heavy on your mind. “Now Y/n, you can back down, there’s still time.” Howard explains as Peggy hovers behind him, her hands closed into each other.

“I’m good,” You assure him with a smile. “I’m doing this for those we all lost.” You admit.

“Alright then.” Howard nods. “See you in six months, Y/n.”

Closing your eyes, you can hear muffled conversations between the team before an overwhelming cool breeze captures your ankles and works it way upwards.

“I will be brave. I will be brave, James.” You whisper with your last breath before passing out, unaware of how long it would be until you awoke once more.

*

“Okay, the Agents are inside the compound and there’s a specialist team on their way to help Y/n.” Tony explains as he projects the footage from his phone for all the team to see.

Bucky remains glued to the projection, unable to take his eyes off your lifeless body as the three HYDRA agents talk amongst themselves, ignoring the slightest movements from you whilst their backs are turned.

“Help is on its way, Buck.” Steve mutters to Bucky, hoping to incite some form of reaction, but Bucky doesn’t respond. “Y/n will be alright, we both know she’s tougher than she looks.” Steve chuckles, picturing you chasing several bullies with a bin lid and a pocket knife you stole from Bucky after they gave Steve a split lip.

“I just,” Bucky uneasily raises his voice. “I can’t lose her again, Steve.”

Resting his hand on Bucky’s shoulder, Steve holds back the sigh from his lips as he watches the footage, noticing your body twitching. “I don’t think you will, look.” Steve motions and Bucky steps closer, eyeing the projection carefully.

“What’s happening?” Tony asks, looking up to the two soldiers as Bucky’s jaw clenches tightly.

“She’s remembering something.” Bucky states. “Come on, doll. Please, wake up.” He pleads under his breath, wanting to see you open your eyes, to wake up and be alright.

*

Voices rise with aggression around you as you begin to gain consciousness, the ruckus from before is only getting worse.

“No, we can’t!” One of the men yells whilst the other carries on conversing in Russian, unaware that you've woken up.

Remaining on the ground, you try to control your breathing as snippets of what you saw and what you said replay in your mind.

“I,” You breathe out as your cheeks become damp once more with a mix of tears and blood.

“And this is Bucky.” Steve nods to the taller brunette with the suave smile etched across his lips.

“James Barnes, but my friends call me Bucky.” Bucky steps forward, lifting your hand up and kisses it softly, never breaking eye contact from you despite the laugh of sheer disgust that left your lips.

“So what do I get to call you?” You ask, now crossing your arms over your chest whilst Bucky hums, taking the sight of you and the beauty you radiate in.

“Well, that’s up to you, doll.” He remarks with a wink before turning around, missing the sight of you rolling your eyes in response.

“You comin’ Y/n?” Steve calls out as Bucky walks ahead, expecting you like all the other dames in the city to follow him and hang on to his every word.

Yet, you stand your ground. “Not today, Steve. I’ve got more important things to do than pretend to be James Barnes’ play toy.”

Bucky turns on his heels quickly. “Oh?” He mutters, raising a brow to you as you simply nod. Unsure of himself, Bucky runs his fingers through his hair, combing his locks back as he tuts in bewilderment.

“Nice to meet you, James.” You salute the man before turning around yourself, hiding the smile forming on your face.

“She, she,” Bucky stutters over his words, a sight Steve struggles to fathom.

“Come on, Buck. I’m sure you’ll see her again real soon.”

“I remember.” You whisper, slowly reeling your hand to your mouth to hold back the snigger that dares to sound.

Echoes of footsteps rushing through the corridors pull you away from your own revelation as a series of Agents come into view with their guns are held up, ready to fire.

Within seconds, gunfire rings through your ears as you cover them, curling into yourself as the three men fall to the ground.

“Y/n?” Someone speaks up, and slowly you uncoil yourself. “Can you stand?”

Unsure of your own voice, you shake your head. “We need a medic, now!” Another calls out whilst you look over to the three men, crimson pooling around them.

“I, where’s Bucky?” You slowly ask, looking up at the Agent before you who blankly stares at you. “Where is he?” You repeat yourself.

The Agent rises to his feet and walks away whilst the medic rushes through, helping you onto a stretcher as you cry out in agony, whimpering for Bucky, your Bucky.

“She’s asking for him, Ma’am.” The Agent mutters to Maria Hill as they both stand by, watching as you’re taken toward the elevator, strapped into the stretcher.

Maria nods. “I’ll get Fury. See to the jet.” She explains before taking her phone and calling the last liable person for this. “Subject 359 is conscious, and has questions.” She simply states.

“And where is she now?” Fury asks through the line.

“Heading to the med bay. She was in bad shape by the time we found her.” Maria explains, passing by the bloodied shards of glass you fell into. “They’re all going to have questions, Nick.”

“I know,” Fury huffs. “and I guess it’s about damn time we answer them.”

L A S T  P A R T 

(thank you to the following for all the love so far! if you’d like to be tagged in this mini series do let me know)

@mellmellmell12@theofficialzivadavid @fandom-princess-forevermore @lokilovefoever @vivalakatee @chgevorgian @captainwinterwriter @carliewinchester @spn-obession @buckysquad @shower-me-with-roses @basicgukk @yasminwashere @sunfouler @feminist-fan-girl @stealapizzamyheart @soccer-100000   @sunflowerbunny2   @kickingn-ames @choerriesmotion @why-thats-just-delightful @officialfictionalwreck @romanoff-nataliaalianovna @hersilencedscreams @b-r-stark @dezzxmx @thearcher-temis @i-lost-my-shoe-down-a-drain @girl-obsessed-with-things​

[verymuchimmortalcat]

As You Were Once

For Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month Day 14: De-aged

ao3

@maribat-bdbwm

Marinette was waiting at the airport for her dad, Cass, Damian, Tim and Steph. Lucius had said that there were some important things to handle in the Paris branch of WE and had insisted upon Bruce dealing with it himself. Then the others wanted to join him, leaving Dick as Batman for the week, Signal, Red Hood, Oracle and the Birds of prey to protect Gotham. Alfred had decided to go on a vacation when most of the Manor's occupants were coming to Paris and Duke would be staying with Jason for the next week. 

The five of them had promised that they wouldn't interfere in case of an akuma attack. Though Marinette was sure that they weren't going to sit back if they decided their help was needed. But hopefully they wouldn't deal with anything too severe this week. 

She waves as she spots her siblings, all of them with the exception of Steph trying not to draw attention to themselves. 

“B’s still getting everything sorted at customs and immigration,” Tim informs her once she’s finished hugging all of them.

She frowns, “was there a problem with something?”

“He’s keeping up his cover,” Damian states.

“He’s being unnaturally friendly to someone he hasn’t done a background check on,” Steph says.

“It was starting to get creepy,” Cass adds.

Marinette probably would have run away too. Galas were one thing, everyone there had been through an extensive background check but the whole Brucie Wayne act in front of people he knew absolutely nothing about was a completely different level of strange.

Their conversation turns to everything she’s missed since their last conversation. She gets a very detailed update on Damian’s pets 

They weren't waiting long before they were joined by B. Though he had to leave almost immediately to WE apparently whatever he had come for had been more urgent than they had realised. 

Once her dad is gone the five of them head to the bakery, while there wasn't space for everyone to stay at the bakery, all of them had wanted to spend time with the Dupain-Chengs. 

.oOo.

They're all at the bakery when the screaming starts. All of them immediately jump up but before any of them can join her she stops them and tells them to cover for her. Tom and Sabine don't know her identity and her siblings can't risk theirs over what’s probably a simple akuma attack. 

Promising them she'll call if she needs help she transforms and heads in the direction of the akuma. Adrien's already there but the others aren't supposed to transform unless needed. It's pretty close to WE. Marinette hopes her father actually remembered his promise and didn't become a target. 

She stops to rescue a larger number of children then she'd normally have to. Why are there so many children outside during an akuma attack?

It's only when she stops in front of a boy who appears to be about seven who looks exactly like the photos Alfred has of her father at that age does she figure out what the akuma's powers are. 

De aging. 

Marinette asks him anyway, there is always the possibility that a random Parisian child looks exactly like a seven-year-old version of her father.

It is not a random Parisian child. Marinette is the holder of the miraculous of good luck, you really would think she’d have better luck.

She crouches down so that she’s at his eye level, “I’m going to take you somewhere safe. Is that ok with you?”

He looks unsure but he nods. Picking him up, she swings back to the bakery as fast as possible. She calls Nino, Alya and Kagami and tells them there's a family emergency and to take care of the akuma and to bring it to her so she could purify it. 

Landing in an alleyway near the bakery, she de-transforms. She doesn't bother with telling him to keep her identity a secret. He already knows in the future and he's definitely not going to talk to someone who doesn't already know who she is.  

Holding his hand she leads him to the bakery. She tells Damian to get the others up and takes her dad (wow, is it strange to think of an approximately seven year old as her dad) to the living room.

She tells Tikki to give tiny Bruce something to occupy his time while she and her siblings figure something out. As they all join her upstairs, she sees as each of them realise what's happened and go from shock to laughter. 

"He doesn't remember anything. The others are taking care of the akuma. Figured you’d need help taking care of him," she says before Tim can ask. 

"Hasn't happened yet," Cass states. 

The laughter from a few seconds ago is gone. They all know what she's talking about. This Bruce Wayne hasn't lost his parents. 

This Bruce Wayne also seems to be glaring at them, he also looks scared. She can’t blame him, he wasn’t offered much of an explanation before she brought him here.

"Where are my parents?” he demands, “The girl who brought me here obviously seems to be some kind of superhero. Who are the rest of you?"

None of them look shocked that he knows that she’s Ladybug but none of them are dwelling on that. He asked for his parents what could they even tell him? They obviously can't tell him his parents are dead but they also know it wouldn't be fair to lie to him. 

"Would you like to talk to Alfred?" Tim asks suddenly. They all sigh in relief when he nods. 

Marinette calls Alfred but doesn't hand the phone to tiny Bruce immediately, it would definitely be more painful for Alfred than any of them to deal with him in this state. 

As soon as he picks up, Marinette starts speaking, "there was an akuma and dad became small and he's asking for his parents and we offered to call you instead."

Alfred being Alfred remains calm and asks her to hand the phone to tiny Bruce. All of them are staring at him as he talks to Alfred over the phone. Even though they can hear only one side of the conversation, tiny Bruce seems to calm down. 

Once he ends the call, he hands the phone back to her and says, "Alfred says that some kind of magic made me small and that all of you are very important to me when I become big."

"You're strangely adorable," Steph says. 

He frowns at that and he’s never before looked more like Damian.

“So, what do you like to do when you're bored?” Marinette asks, bending down in front of him and they all watch as one of the world’s greatest heroes rambles on about something his mom showed him last week.

.oOo.

This is the most they’ve ever heard Bruce talk about his parents and Alfred. They’re all listening intently about the woman who was their grandmother right now. Neither of them want to ask for more information. It wouldn't make sense to not know his parents if they were close to him. Alfred mentioned once that Marinette looks startlingly similar to Martha Wayne, Tim wonders if B’s picked up on it yet. Even if he has, Tim supposes, there wouldn’t be any reason for him to dwell on it as far as the Bruce in front of them is concerned his parents are alive and well.

They’ve all snuck pictures of him talking animatedly, he’s too carefree to notice, has no reason not to be. He’s already sent a few to Alfred and the others and immediately switched off notifications. Marinette and Damian do it too when their phones start blowing up, Steph’s just ignoring it and still taking photos and Cass is spamming them back. 

He goes back to watching Bruce talk without the weight he’s been carrying in all the time Tim’s known him.

.oOo.

It's strange, Cass thinks, to see him like this. The closest he's ever been to this relaxed is when all of them are at the manor for something other than a gala or bat business. 

She's alternating between listening to Bruce and tormenting her brothers who stayed back in Gotham. She’s sure if patrol wasn’t starting soon, they would’ve been here already for varying reasons.

She wonders if he’ll remember any of this when he comes back to normal, she’ll have to ask Marinette.

.oOo.

They moved to Marinette’s room in case the Dupain-Chengs check on them. Father’s taking a break from talking and is going through Marinette’s designs, Stephanie and Cassandra are with him. Drake seems to have taken on the responsibility of tormenting the others remaining in Gotham or he’s just texting his boyfriend, Damian doesn’t want to know.

He’s watching as the three of them go through Marinette’s designs, and watches as she gets progressively more flustered as they bury her in compliments, well mostly Stephanie, Cassandra and Father aren’t as vocal but it’s also the most he’s heard Father compliment someone sincerely.

It’s strange to think of the child in front of him as his father. He smiles a lot more and even laughed several times.

And then Stephanie mentions that Damian draws and Father’s asking him if he could look at his drawings. Damian offers him a small smile and unlocks his phone and shows him the recent painting of Titus, Alfred, Ace and Jerry and watches as his Father analyses the whole painting.

Maybe the child in front of him is not the father he’s gotten to know but it is nice to see him all the same.

.oOo.

Marinette’s starting to get worried. It’s been an hour and the others haven’t returned with the Akuma yet. They can’t keep tiny Bruce occupied forever. She’s considering transforming and checking it out when Tim pokes his head out from where he’s sitting on her bed and says, “hey Mari, delivery for you.”

Alya’s standing next to him with the akuma in a jar, looking confused. Marinette sighs, explaining this is going to be interesting.

She climbs up and heads to the balcony before transforming. Alya hands her the jar and Marinette purifies the akuma, calls for her lucky charm and throws it up in the air.

“So…” Alya starts, “wanna explain what that was about?” 

“Family emergency. I’ll tell you about it later. Bye!” and then Marinette’s back in her room. Her siblings seem to be panicking and her dad’s not there. The Miraculous Ladybug should have taken him back to where he was. He’s probably standing in the middle of the street completely disoriented.

Detransforming she joins their discussion, or more accurately panicked argument, to let them know what happened. They’re all on their way to the Paris branch of WE in a few minutes. She’s sure one of the employees is bound to have found him and explained things to him but they’re still going just in case.

He’s attacked by hugs when they find him in the lobby of the building, he looks confused as to why but none of them offer any explanation. Steph’s the first one to pull away when her phone starts ringing.

“Shit. We forgot to tell Alfred everything’s fine again.”

Letting go of her dad, she checks her phone and there at the very top of her notifications is a missed call from Alfred. Just one, he’s not anything like the rest of the family as proven by the hundred notifications below that. Steph’s already picked up the call and handed it to B. Marinette sends Dick a message to let him know that everything’s back to normal and to please not come to Paris once patrol’s done.

There are people staring at them, which isn’t surprising but makes her uncomfortable all the same and she knows the rest of them probably feel the same, though Tim might've gotten used to it. They watch in silence as B finishes talking to Alfred and hands Steph’s phone back to her.

He looks over the bunch of them and asks, “did you have something to tell me?”

It feels like forever that they stand awkwardly looking at him before Marinette says, “nope! Nothing important,” and drags her siblings out of the building and back to the bakery. They can talk to him later and Damian’s yawning on their way back. It’s been one hell of a first day in Paris for them, she can’t wait for the rest of the week.

[flashflashhundredyarddash]

Between You, Batman, and the Bat-Hound, I'll Take the Bat-Hound

A fic about Bruce Wayne deciding to adopt a service dog.

Read on ao3 here. Warning for major character death.

Bruce got Ace when Dick was ten. He’d started therapy when Dick was eight, but it had taken a while for it to occur to Bruce to get a service animal. Ace was a German Shepherd who had thrived in his emotional support training and had so far passed all his requirements with shining colors. Bruce and Dick had met Ace and a few other dogs in New York a month before their graduation and Dick had felt an immediate connection to the dog. Bruce had made a sizable donation to the program, paid for the full costs of the next 632 dogs that were going to be placed with owners for the next year, and a month later Bruce, Dick, and Alfred flew back to New York to pick up Ace and fly home.

For being only one year old, Ace was a dog who took his job very seriously. He had obediently followed Bruce from room to room, and didn’t wander off while they were in the Batcave, and instead sat patiently at Bruce’s feet.

Dick adored Ace, and it was obvious Ace loved Dick. Ace technically had his own bed, though Ace actually spent half his nights sleeping with Dick and half his nights curled up on Bruce’s bed. Dick always tried to come with Bruce for Ace’s walks and always made sure Ace got presents when the holidays rolled around. Ace’s favorite toy was a Batman plush Dick bought for him, and Ace carried it with him everywhere. Ace stoically endured it when a 12-year-old Dick dressed him in a Batman costume for Halloween. The picture of the dog was hung in the hallway leading to the kitchen, where other important family photos resided, with the caption “Ace the Bat-Hound” in Dick’s handwriting. Ace curled up with Dick whenever Dick had nightmares about snapping wires.

Bruce loved his serious and stoic dog.

Jason was wary of Ace when he first came to the manor. In his experience, most big dogs were threats he had to guard against. Bruce had combatted this by letting Jason come with him to the office one day while Ace was working, his bright red service vest on. By the end of the day, Jason was significantly more comfortable with the dog, and it wasn’t odd to see Jason holding one-sided conversations with Ace while ranting about his homework.

Ace took his responsibilities just as seriously when it came to Jason as he did when it came to Bruce and Dick. He spent most nights in Jason’s bedroom, who had horrible night terrors. When Jason was at school, Ace spent his time in Dick’s room, curled up on the bed with his Batman toy.

When Jason died, Ace stayed attached to Bruce’s side every minute that he could. When Bruce was on patrol, he paced the hallway in front of Jason’s locked door, and sometimes Alfred would cry into his fur. Ace spent more time in the Batcave, waiting for Bruce to come home, his head resting on his crossed paws. Alfred stayed alert for Ace to come get him when Bruce was injured (which was often).

Tim’s mother had claimed an allergy to dogs and cats, so Tim had grown up with neither. He knew, logically, that Bruce Wayne had a service dog, but he hadn’t been prepared for the reality of an animal that seemed to be what happened if Bruce Wayne’s personality had been put into the body of a dog. The first time Tim heard Bruce really laugh had been when Ace had tugged Tim to the floor while wrestling over a rope, and then had climbed onto Tim and whined apologetically. When Tim’s parents left on trips after only being home a few weeks and he collapsed into the bed in his spare bedroom at Wayne Manor that was slowly becoming his bedroom, Ace would lay with him, on top of Tim’s legs. Ace was too well-trained to jump in greeting, but his tail always wagged when he saw Tim again, and when Dick began to come around more Ace could barely contain himself from following his first kid around the manor.

David Cain had used dogs in his training of Cassandra. When Bruce had first seen the horrific bite scar in Cass’s upper arm, he’d gritted his teeth and within the week took down a burgeoning dog fighting ring.

He thought about doing what he did with Jason, letting Cass spend a few days with him and Ace to let Cass feel more comfortable, but Cass had had any and all indications of fear trained out of her, so Bruce couldn’t even be sure she was even afraid of them. Ace, clever as he was, seemed to pick up on Bruce’s tension, and was always on his best behavior when Cass was around. While Bruce was still mulling it over, he came across Cass and Ace in the library, Cass with her phone leaned up against Ace and watching a video while Ace sat quietly with his Batman toy, his tail wagging. Bruce quickly teamed up with Ace to teach him the ASL signs for his commands, and soon enough Cass started to take Ace with her whenever she left the manor to travel into Gotham, Ace wearing his vest with pride. Ace was a big hit with the Gotham City Adult Beginner’s Ballet Class, who were very careful to not distract Ace from his job.

Ace met Krypto once. Ace was unimpressed. Bruce shared half his sandwich with Ace as a reward.

The first time Red Hood was invited back to the Batcave, Ace had sniffed him, settled at his feet, and had refused to leave his side until Jason left. Ace once again took up vigil outside Jason’s door, so Alfred unlocked it for him. Alfred sat on the edge of Jason’s bed, and Ace had put his head in Alfred’s lap and closed his eyes while Alfred pet him. Ace went to retrieve his toy and then slept in Jason’s room for the first time in several years.

When Damian came to the manor, Ace was an old dog, with grey around his muzzle. Sometimes he had trouble going down the stairs. Bruce did not miss Damian’s quickly hidden interest in the dog, and had kneeled down to introduce them.

When Dick, Damian, and Alfred moved to the penthouse, Damian had quickly commandeered responsibility for taking care of Ace. He prepared specially made food for him, took him on his walk, and defaulted to talking about Ace whenever he could.

For Ace, the strangest part about moving back to the manor and seeing Bruce again for the first time in a year was learning to live with other animals. When Titus first arrived, he was small enough to walk underneath Ace, but he quickly grew into his oversized paws and soon the Great Dane dwarfed the German Shepherd. Titus loved Ace, and while Ace tried to act disinterested, he was clearly fond of Titus, too. For Halloween that year, Ace was once again forced into his Batman costume by his first kid while Titus happily played in his Robin costume. Alfred the cat was apparently supposed to be Catwoman. Ace grumpily sat by Bruce while Bruce sympathetically patted the old dog on the head and then he spent the night in Bruce’s bed when he came back from patrol.

When Duke joined the family, Ace was a quiet, old dog with drooping eyes. He couldn’t come out with Duke because he got tired easily, but whenever Duke visited his parents Ace would spend the rest of the day with him. He carried his Batman toy with him everywhere. He was a pleasant companion while Duke did homework, and didn’t seem to care when Duke blasted his music. In the afternoons, while everyone else was asleep, Ace came down with Duke to the Batcave and waited patiently for Duke to suit up for patrol, and was always there when Duke came back.

One day, Duke and Damian came home from school to find Steph, Cass, and Tim huddled at the base of the grand staircase, whispering. Duke and Damian shared a look before approaching them, and when Damian made a loud “tt” noise, Tim and Steph jumped and whirled around while Cass turned sedately. Damian stared at the trio judgmentally while they all looked at each other. Duke noticed Ace at their feet.

“Ace can’t make it up the stairs,” Tim finally said, looking unsettled. Duke’s attention immediately snapped to Ace, who was laying down just beside the first step.

“Can he walk at all?” Damian asked.

“He followed us from the living room,” Steph said, “but he was limping a little. And then he couldn’t make it up the stairs after us.”

Damian chewed his lip, uncharacteristically unsure. “We should call Father,” he finally said, “and bring his bed downstairs. And his toy.”

Steph veered back to the living room to fetch his toy while Cass and Duke went upstairs to get his bed out of Bruce’s room. Damian gently shepherded Ace to the kitchen with Alfred while Tim called Bruce, his voice quiet in the somber mood of the kitchen while the kids lingered there.

Bruce, who was at Wayne Enterprises, broke several traffic laws to get home within half an hour to meet his family in the kitchen. He crouched to check over Ace the same way Damian did, and Ace’s tail began to wag weakly as soon as he saw Bruce.

“He seems alright apart from the stairs,” Damian reported. “He ate and drank at his usual times, though he does appear more lethargic than usual.”

His other children and Alfred watched Bruce and Bruce ran his hand over Ace’s side, thinking.

“I’ll keep an eye on him tonight,” Bruce decided. “If he gets worse, I’ll take him to the vet. I’ll inform Dick, Jason, and Barbara to cover my patrol route.”

Duke shared an alarmed look with Cass. Bruce almost never passed up a night of patrol without much cajoling.

That night, Bruce moved his things downstairs and took up residence with Ace in one of the spare bedrooms on the first floor. Over the next month, visitors trickled in one at a time.

Dick seemed to be over every other day. He bought Ace a Robin plush that quickly settled beside his old and ragged Batman plush, right in the center of Bruce and Ace’s new bed. Dick brought his daughter, too, and she happily petted Ace and played with him while Ace bore it with the quiet dignity he always did.

Barbara visited, and she sat on the couch with Ace in the living room while she coded and he snored. At dinner, she dropped food underneath the table for him.

Titus spent his mornings while the kids were at school with Ace, cuddling with him and trying to play. Once, Ace had growled ferociously when Titus tried to take his Batman toy, and Damian had retreated to his room in tears after he’d pulled Titus away. Ace had apologised the next day by letting Titus play with the toy, though he was careful not to let it out of his sight.

After patrol one night Bruce came home and Ace was on his dog bed, asleep. Bruce couldn’t recall a time when Ace hadn’t either stayed up to wait for Bruce or gone to sleep with one of the children. Bruce picked Ace’s toys up off of their bed and set them by Ace, and then curled up around his dog for a brief minute and had fallen asleep on the dog bed.

Jason had carried Ace up the stairs and they spent the whole day in Jason’s room, and when Jason got bored of that they’d wandered into everyone else’s rooms, and found an old ball hiding underneath Damian’s bed. Ace had panted happily when they reached Bruce’s room, so they’d spent the day watching movies on Bruce’s bed.

Cass invited some of her old friends from the ballet group and Ace had perked up. They’d laughed and spent a few hours with him, and at the end of the visit Cass had been the proud owner of a bag of treats for Ace. That night, she spent several hours during patrol following every stray dog she found, giving them food and water when she could.

Steph bought Ace increasingly ridiculous doggy accessories when inspiration struck and taking numerous selfies with him, matching sunglasses on their face. She sent every one to Bruce.

Sometimes, Alfred the cat would take advantage of Ace’s now docile attitude to sit on him and take a nap.

Tim managed to coax Ace out onto the manor grounds on a particularly sunny day and Tim sketched out blueprints while Ace lay pressed against his side. The sun seemed to give him enough energy to play fetch with a stick for a few throws, and Tim recorded him on his phone and then sent it to the family group chat. Bruce reacted to the video with a heart.

Damian spent any time not in school or on patrol with Ace. He quietly followed Ace from room to room, from sibling to sibling and during their monthly family movie night he sat on the floor with Ace and the rest of their siblings and patted his belly and cooed at him about what a good boy he was. A few times, Bruce had gone upstairs after the rest of his children had already gone to sleep and found Damian asleep in his bed with Ace.

While they waited for the rest of their family to return home from patrol, Alfred sat with Ace in Bruce and Ace’s room and gently pet him while he read a book.

Duke carried Ace down to the Batcave after his afternoon patrol while the rest of the house’s occupants were sleeping. They sat in front of a display case containing one of the old batsuits, and Ace nosed the glass. Duke left him for a moment to find the current cape and wrapped Ace in it. Duke carried Ace back upstairs, cape and all, at the end of Bruce’s afternoon nap and dropped Ace off next to Bruce. It was a blatant violation of Alfred’s “no uniforms in the house” rule, but Duke figured Alfred would make an exception.

That night, Batman went out in a slightly older version of the cape.

On the last day, Bruce stayed home because Ace wouldn’t sleep or eat or move and just lay on their bed, whining intermittently. Bruce’s hands shook when he called his children who weren’t living at the manor, and on the way to the vet Duke and Damian sat with Ace in the back. Alfred was on his phone, texting various members of the family, and he kept turning in his seat to smile sadly at the dog and reach back to pet him. Bruce’s eyes kept flicking to the rearview mirror to watch his dog.

They waited until all of the children came. Dick was already in tears when he and Jason came, and Jason’s were red and puffy. Everyone was teary-eyed by the time Tim finally arrived, apologetic and frantic. The entire Wayne family gathered in the back to wait with Ace.

“Wait,” Dick said, his voice rough and nearly hysterical. “His toy, did anyone get his Batman toy?”

Bruce’s eyes widened for a moment before Duke shrugged off his backpack he brought from the manor. He pulled out Ace’s Batman toy, the cape Ace had been sleeping with, folded up to look like a blanket and finally, his old service dog vest, slightly faded after years of washing. Duke handed them all to Bruce who laid them out beside Ace. when Bruce gently set down the Batman plush beside Ace, Ace ignored it in favor of nuzzling into Bruce’s hand.

This is what caused Jason to make a loud hiccuping sob and burst into tears, and then all the kids followed suit.

“Children,” Alfred began, choked up, “we must make a valiant effort to… to...” he trailed off, tears dripping down his cheeks.

His children clung to each other as the vet came in, and Bruce pet Ace’s scruff while someone clung to his hand.

Bruce and Ace looked at each other. A man and his service dog. The Batman and The Bat-Hound.

“You were the best dog a man could ever ask for,” Bruce whispered when Ace closed his eyes.

***

Six months later, Bruce was waylaid by his eldest child while on the way to work.

“Did someone ask for a valet?” Dick grinned, and Bruce grunted and got in the backseat so he could talk to his granddaughter. A few minutes later, Alfred got into the passenger seat and Bruce’s trepidation grew.

“Dick,” he said, “you know I hate surprises.”

“Yeah, Bruce,” Dick said, “but it’s a good one this time, I promise.”

“The last time you said that someone painted the Batmobile pink.”

Dick laughed. Bruce turned to his granddaughter. “I swear I will never attempt to throw you a surprise party as long as I live.”

Mary gurgled at him.

“Hmm,” Bruce said. “Yes, you understand me.”

An hour later, they pulled into the parking lot of the GCPD police academy and they got out of the car.

“You said this was a good surprise, chum.”

“It is!” Dick said as he unbuckled Mary.

“I can see Steph’s car across the parking lot. And Barbara’s and Tim’s and Jason’s bike. If this is a surprise party I will never forgive any of you.”

Dick scoffed. “It is not anywhere close to your birthday.”

“A perfect time to strike.”

As they walked into the lobby, a man straightened from where he was talking to the person manning the front desk.

“Jim,” Bruce’s smile came a little easier as he walked over to shake his hand. “How’s retirement treating you?”

Jim sighed. “Barbara says I can’t complain because I was lucky enough to retire. It’s so awful I almost miss being a beat cop. Almost.”

Jim turned and started to walk down the hall. “Your kids are waiting for you,” he stopped by a nondescript door.

“I suppose you can’t tell me what this is about?”

“Well, that would ruin the surprise wouldn’t it, Bruce?”

Bruce sighed, but turned and opened the door.

“I knew it was a surprise party.”

All of his kids were piled into the small office, and they laughed at him. Barbara was in the middle of the room, a box by her feet, looking distinctly pleased with herself.

“Hi, Bruce,” she said, and then pulled out a small German Shepherd from the box.

Bruce said nothing.

“Don’t freak out,” Dick said, too late.

“Too late,” Jason said.

“I’m not freaking out,” Bruce said.

“You look like you’re freaking out a little,” Duke said apologetically.

Bruce abruptly smoothed his face.

“One of my dad’s friends helps run the K9 training. This little one was a bit ‘too friendly’ for K9 work,” Barbara said, patting the puppy’s head, whose tongue was lolling out. “So I asked if we could take her instead.”

“Guess what her name is,” Jason said, gleeful.

“Every litter usually gets themed names,” Barbara said, smiling, “And this litter’s theme was a certain group of Bat-themed vigilantes…”

“Oh, no,” Bruce said.

“Oh, yes,” Jason said.

Barbara lifted up the German Shepherd, “say hello to Robin.”

Bruce sighed but still reached out to pick up the dog. He lifted her up and stared at her face while she panted happily at him. Bruce sighed.

“Did we crush this surprise party or what?” Steph said. “Up top!” and Cass and Tim gave her a high-five.

Bruce cradled the dog to his chest and stroked her fur. Damian reached over to scratch her head.

“Being Robin is a very important responsibility,” Damian told the dog, “but I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

“It turns out all of the puppies washed out of their police training. I’ve never been more proud,” Jason said.

Cass turned to Bruce. “I want the Black Bat puppy,” she signed.

Bruce hid his smile in his new Robin’s fur.

[echoalyssa]

Phantom | Dick Grayson

Authors Note: There’s some light language in this, but thats about all!

“Phantom to Nightwing, entering dead zone now. Start the clock and come in if I’m late. I love you.”

You now had an hour inside the base, unable to contact anyone. You were collecting intel and because you were the stealthiest and smallest, (Damian was too young for this particular mission) Bruce had sent you in.

Your boyfriend, Dick Grayson had wanted to come with you but Bruce had rejected the idea because two people was more risky than one.

Dick had been livid, it was more risky for your life for you to go alone. He was your partner even though you were all a team. Ever since childhood, the two of you fought together and somewhat seemed to share the same mind.

You push a vine our of your dace. Your black masks shows the digital map of the quietest places to step. Your hood is pulled up to disguise your features and skin tone that obviously didn't fit in with the darkness of the air around you.

You had left your mottled cloak behind, opting to only have to worry about your body and where you place it. 

Joker was extremely active underground lately, he’d evolved and Bruce had only your mission as a lead. 

Your mask displays your one hour timer on the left hand side of your vision. Fifty minutes to get into the compound and back to safety.

The compound comes into view, a flat stone building that just didn’t fit in with the forest that surrounded it. You creep forward, staying in the shadows and hugging the walls of the building until you reach the only vent.

The stone was practically flat but years of training allowed you to look your gloved fingers into a crevice and wedge a booted foot into the building.

You begin climbing, scaling upwards twenty feet. The screws of the vent are all different and you have to pull away from the wall, your body straining so you can unscrew the bottom two.

You’re small enough that you can pry the vent open enough that you can squeeze yourself in. Forty minutes your clock reads. You were going too slow. You crawl forward on your elbows, you trek forward, you should have asked for two hours. Shit.

You hit the record button on your wrist panel and pull the microphone out.

It’s a tiny one but the quality is amazing. You’re peering through a small vent above a research lab now and you thread the microphone and it’s wire through the vent. The audio feeds into your ear piece and also saves to the hard drive in your panel.

You’re holding your breath, only breathing when you have to to minimize any chance of getting caught.

“We need to move in now! He’s only getting more recruits and it’s only a matter of time before they find us again.” Says a voice.

“If they haven’t already! I say we try the new weapon on some unsuspecting crowd of bystanders now. Then they’ll be too busy trying to save those silly citizens to deal with us.”

“Yes but is it ready..?”

“It needs to be tested again and we need to find a more powerful energy source eventually.”

And then the joker walks into view of the vent. He’s holding a blueprint and he spreads it on one of the tables. It’s the paint schematic for the weapon because of course, the joker being the joker meant that everything needed to be green, purple, and white.

You raise a hand to your mask and tap twice. It takes a screenshot of your view of the blueprint and sends it to the bat hard drive.

“Did you have any luck with batons inner circle? Would anyone snitch?”

“A couple...” the speaker listens. It’s valuable intel and now Bruce would be able to feed false information to the rats.

You begin to tap their names away into the panel and then attempt to wirelessly hack into the mainframes. The firewall were strong and plentiful but eventually they all fall victim to you. Sixteen minutes your timer reads. Shit. The data downloading from their computers and into your drive is only halfway done.

It won’t be very detailed. Just minuscule bits of information because you couldn't connect physically to the computers. It’s a line of script here and there that didn't make much sense to you because you weren't super tech-y. Though every line counted and that you knew. Several addresses also pop up.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, your panel signals that the download is complete. Seven minutes reads the timer. Double shit.

You scramble backwards knowing that you’ve done all that you can. Somehow managing to turn yourself around in the small space. You’re almost at the vent when you foot clangs against the side of the vent.

You freeze, no alarms go off, but then again why would they? The timer is still ticking and you continue on, sliding out of the vent. You fumble with the screws, attempting to get them back in in case your cover hadn't already been blown. You then plant your feet, push off and flip down to the ground. You land nimbly in a rolling crouch and then pop to your feet and take off, sprinting for the tree line.

They come from the shadows. Dozens of them. All focused in on you.

You suck in a breath and draw your longswords.

“Bring it on Goonies!” You call and they surge forward all at once. Some with guns, electric batons, and swords.

You stalk forward, meeting them in the middle. You begin slashing immediately at arms, legs, torsos, anywhere that wasn’t too lethal. You weren't a killer.

Except there were just so many, the sword in your left hand falls from your grip and you pull out a disc, throwing it into the incomers. It explodes, blinding some and wounding others. 

You yank s taser out from your belt and stab it into an attackers neck while blocking an attack with your sword. And then it happens. A baton smacks into the back of your head and you stumble forward, dizzy. A blade slashes your thigh, splitting skin and muscle. A cry comes fro, your lips and you lash out desperately with your one remaining longsword. You're able to down the foe who had slashed you.

Two more take his place and then a dagger rips through your abdomen from behind. You scream, falling to your knees. Just as it gets put through your thigh, followed by your shoulder. You land in the grass face first and the world goes dark, sound fading out.

‘Dick.’ Is your last thought.

~~~

Dick is staring at the timer that is displayed by his make. 00:00:05. 00:00:04. 00:00:03. 00:00:02. 00:00:01. And the dreaded number... 00:00:00. It blares red and he stares at the forest, fists clenched. Where was she?

Tim steps forward and places a hand on his shoulder. “Give her five minutes okay? She’s smart. You know how these missions sometimes go overtime. She’s got this.”

“We never should have sent her in alone. It was too risky. Damn it!”

His fist rockets into a tree. He considers going after Bruce, giving him a piece of his mind. Then decides that it isn’t worth it and begins to prepare to go in after his love.

He makes sure to grab the miniature cauterizer and some other emergency medical supplies, stuffing them into the pouches on his belt.

“Wait, Nightwing, we’ll go together. We need a plan!” Damian calls.

His heart is pounding out of his chest and he can’t breathe. ‘What if he was too late? What if she was already gone?’

He doesn’t want to wait for a plan, time was ticking. He pushes past his adoptive brother.

“Dick wait!” Jason calls trying to grab his arm. But he keeps going, breaking for the trees to find her.

Jason and Tim look at each other, then they both look at Damian. “Stay here.” They say simultaneously/

“No way!” He yells back at his brothers.

The three of them take them off after Nightwing. And Bruce, having watched all his children run into danger, follows them in.

Nightwing is pushing through vines and branches, not caring if he makes noise or not. He knows the rest of his family will follow him, but quietly.

His mail enhances his vision in the darkness. He draws a thumb over his own panel and it activates the heat censor on his mask. Dick Grayson pushes forward quickly, scanning frantically for her heat signature.

And then he sees it. She’s always run cold. Her fingers and limbs always frozen. A small prone figure, running colder than the other surrounding bodies. He kicks up his pace, heading for her because he just knows.

“Phantom!” he yells, followed by, “Robin! I think I found her!”

He skids to a halt and falls to his knees, he can see the stab wounds. The way her blood has soared into the ground beneath her. 

Nightwing rolls her over, jamming his fingers under her neck to find a pulse. It’s there. But weak.

He rips the cauterizer out of his belt and drapes her body over him just as Jason appears. 

“Is she..?”

“Alive.” He grunts, “Not for much longer I need to..”

Jason helps him rip the uniform away enough so Dick has enough room to maneuver.

“Hold her down!”

Jason does as he’s told and Dick places the cauterizer to her skin.

“Only do what you have to, we need to get out of here. And soon.”

He pushes the two flaps of skin together and places the sparking tool to it. The heat melds the skin together. She’d need to be pumped full of antibiotics in case any of the blades were dirty and risked infection.

She only stirs slightly, too disoriented from her loss of blood. He talks to her the whole time he works on her.

He only does her abdomen, knowing that it’s her most serious injury. It might not even hold from the jolting and jostling that would occur in the journey back. Dick stabs a painkiller into her thigh, just in case she were to awaken.

He motions to Tim and Damian, who had been standing guard, to take up the rear. Grayson then scoops up his girlfriend, cradling her to his chest.

“Jason. Take point. Let’s get her home.”

~~~

He sits by her bedside. His hands are covered in her dry blood, along with his suit. He hadn’t bothered to change.

Y/N had needed a blood transfusion and he had offered immediately, hence why there was a needle in his arm funneling blood into girlfriend. Alfred had stitched do her wounds and hooked her up to an IV for hydration and anti-infection purposes.

She’d been changed out of her uniform after she was stable for cleanliness reasons and was now wearing one of his black shirts.

He’s holding her hand, his thumb tracing over the pulse point of her wrist occasionally.

It would be a long road to recovery for her though they all knew that she would bounce back and attempt to get back in to the field as soon as she could walk.

It’s days later when she finally wakes, her eyelids fluttering.

“Dick.” She whispers.

He’s right there, just like he had been, he’d only left briefly to shower but he ate and slept at her side. Jason had covered both of your patrols, with Bruce helping out.

“I’m okay. You’re okay, babygirl.” He places a hand on her face and she leans her head into his touch.