#and before any of the waynes could even disappear to suit up Sam just Went For The Kill

[polter-heist]

Dp x Dc prompt 7

(most likely a limital!amity park)

a feud between Amity Park residents and the Justice League but it's one sided.

any time an Amity Parker goes out of town and ends up in a location where the Justice League gets called or any member gets called, an Amity Parker Will Take Care Of It.

Amity Parkers have dropped-kicked Lex Luther, ganged up on the Joker, punted Mister Mind, and more.

The Justice League and Villains are desperately trying to find out What Their Problem Is for different reasons.

When confronted, the answers vary but a concerning consistency is "If our dead teenage superhero can take care of world-ending threats by himself, we can take care of the little things."

[aidaronan]

37 for Steddie? Love your stuff btw, the moment in Its Not A Big Deal where they play the solo game is so sweet and takes up so much space in my brain

Hey thank you!! 😭❤️ 37. things you said through someone else For a while, the only visitors Eddie's allowed are doctors, cops, and a state-appointed lawyer. The rest of the time, they keep him in a blank white room all by himself. They don't even let him have a book to read. Thank fuck he's always had one hell of an imagination. He passes the hours by imagining whole worlds, playing out scenarios in those. And when those worlds get boring, he imagines the world he lives in, versions where they didn't lock him up like some brutal serial killer. Or futures where they let him go and he gets to do all those things he always wanted to do. "It'll be better for you if you sign a confession," Brad says. Eddie hates Brad, who clearly thinks Eddie's guilty and is only there because he has to be. "Better for who exactly?" Eddie asks, and that's how the conversation goes again and again. Until one day someone says "lawyer" and Eddie looks up expecting to see Brad in his ill-fitting brown suit only to find someone who is very much not Brad.

Standing in his doorway is a man in his early 50s, the early 50s of someone who can afford healthcare and a gym membership. His graying hair is cut simply and precisely. His navy blue suit fits him like a glove, and it looks like if a wrinkle went anywhere near it, it'd fistfight that wrinkle and win. Simply put, the guy looks fucking expensive, from his silk pocket square to his shiny leather briefcase. "Hello, Mr. Munson. I'm David Carnell of Carnell & Barret Legal, and I have been hired to represent you."

Eddie blinks several times. He has a feeling that Uncle Wayne could sell everything they've ever owned in their life and not be able to afford this guy. "I don't understand." "I'm your new lawyer." "No, I get that part. Who hired you exactly?" "I've been Mitch Harrington's attorney for over twenty years now. I believe you know his son. I have a letter here for you by the way. I definitely made sure the guards didn't know about it, so you'd better flush it after reading." Wincing a bit at the pull in his stitches, Eddie snatches the letter like it might disappear, ripping into it. Eddie, I had to blackmail the hell out of my dad for this and I'll definitly have to move out now but Carnell is the kind of lawyer who hates to lose so he won't. Everyone misses you. Dustin, Lucas, and Mike. Me.

Hang in there dude. We're still harrasing the goverment about just getting you out of there without all this but Carnell is a solid plan b. Joyce and Hopper (not dead! weird right?) are in on it now too though and Joyce is scary when she wants to be. Just don't give up whatever you do. Becuase we won't.

Besides I didn't get to see you play and I want to. I really really want to.

Dinner on me when you get out. Anything you want. I'm starting a steak and lobster fund right now.

Friends? Steve

"Can I say something back?" Eddie asks, and Carnell sets his briefcase down and pops it open, removing a tape recorder and a legal pad. He presses record.

"Go ahead."

"Uh... Yeah, Steve. Friends. Like Frodo and Sam. You can ask Henderson who they are if you don't know." Eddie thumbs the letter in his hand. "And thank you, Steve. All of you. Tell everyone I miss them too."

At Eddie's nod, Carnell stops the tape. "Are you ready to get started?" "Yeah." "Before I press record again, Mr. Munson... Steve Harrington insists you're innocent, but between you and me and no one else, I need to know. If there's evidence that could come out, I need to be ready." Eddie bites his tongue and pushes down the sick, roiling feeling that comes up every time he thinks too long about Chrissy or any of the others. "I'm innocent." "Good. Because I can tell you having seen the case they've got fuck all for evidence right now." Carnell grins at him with all his perfect teeth, and Eddie decides you don't have to like a shark. You just have to sit back and let it deal with the wolves. He wonders if it'd be too much to insist on candlelight at that steak and lobster dinner. Because staring at Carnell's gold cuff links, it's pretty hard not to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

[kazosa]

Masquerade

Summary: the reader has been conned into going to a party where her best friend, a white witch, has set her up on a blind date. Is this one finally a keeper?

A/N: BIG thanks to @dragongirl420 for the gorgeous graphic!!

Warnings: um? I write how I talk so… swearing? That’s about it. Fluffy AF, too.

Song Lyrics:  “Lady in Red” by Chris de Burgh

Word Count (w/Lyrics):  3930

Tags: @dragongirl420

     The rustle of fabric and the sounds of heeled shoes on the wooden floor were all keeping time with the music that was playing over the amazing sound system. As you watched the party taking place without you, you leaned against the wall and wondered, yet again, how in the hell Jen managed to convince you to go to her party. Only, it wasn’t just any party, it was a masquerade party… and she was setting you up, again.

     “Oh, c’mon! It’ll be fun!” she cajoled.

     You’d heard that before.

     “This is the last time, Jen,” she’d been trying for ages to find you ‘the one’ and had been unsuccessful. “I’m a hunter, I don’t have time for family stuff.”

     The two of you’d had many discussions about hunters and families. No matter how many times you tried to argue against it, you knew it was bullshit. Your own father was a hunter and you had many good memories with him. He was around to teach you things, he was there for birthdays. Hunters and families could be done, and happily, you knew that, but you’d been on your own so long…

     “Fine, last time,” she relented. “Though, I think I picked a winner this time.”

     Jen had insisted on buying you a dress for the party. Thinking you’d just go to some costume shop that had dresses at the ready, you'd agreed. Instead, she had taken you to the airport and spent the next three days in LA getting dress fittings. Jen had already picked out the design and gave the dressmakers your general dimensions. She’d been a good guesser and only a little work had needed to be done to get your dress perfect.      Three days and Sam had only called you once. Dean had called you everyday and had sent you texts. You were living with them, after all. It was only natural that they would check up on you, plus, they were Winchesters, it’s what they did.

    You’d been mingling with the other party goers long enough to make your feet hurt in your high-heeled boots. Figured you’d get stood up, on Valentine’s Day no less. Your mask was bothering you and you wanted nothing more than to ditch the party, but Jen had gone to a lot of trouble and it was a pretty fantastic party.

     Somehow, she’d managed to rent a loft in the historic downtown area and decorated it to the nines. There was lush velvet and black lace everywhere you looked. The furnishings were just as opulent as the gothic chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. Jen had really outdone herself this time.

     The music wasn’t too loud, but loud enough that people wanted to dance. As you watched how people had already paired off, it made you wonder if Jen was just messing with you and you were the only one being set up on a date. It was starting to not matter anymore, you were getting to a point where you were there for the food and drinks and to enjoy your friend’s expensive taste.

     So far, you’d avoided the food table, foolishly thinking your date would acutally show. You hadn’t wanted to eat something and have it make your breath go horribly wrong. You weren’t an optimist, by any means, but it could have finally been the time that one of Jen’s matchmaking attempts had actually worked out. It didn’t seem to be an issue any longer, and the carrot sticks were calling to you.

     “At least something is,” you grumbled to yourself.

     Jen slipped in beside you in her opulent black and gold gown. Like everything else at the party, she was stunning.

     “You look amazing!” she said sincerely.

     Indelicately chomping down on your carrot, “I don’t feel amazing.”

     “He’ll be here,” she insisted, taking a drink of whiskey.

     A tall man, wearing a black suit, with black shirt and a vest printed with gold spades, and a matching pocket square came striding up, laying a gentle hand on Jen’s bare shoulder. You liked Dave a lot and he seemed to be holding up nicely with Jen. She had a wild life, but so did he, and she tended to run through her lovers. This one, however, seemed to be thriving with her. He was a nice guy and he was a hell of a lot of fun at parties. His dark blonde hair, blue eyes and beard made him look more menacing than he really was with that masquerade mask on. In fact, when he wasn’t dressed up, he had a whole other look about him, one that had earned him the nickname Jen had given him. It never failed, every time you saw him, it came to mind…

     “If he’s not, we’ll just find him and kill him,” Dave said lightly. “Good riddance if he can’t man-up.”

     “You’re sweet,” you said.

     “Don’t worry, he knows what’s good for him,” Jen winked. “Just give him a chance, okay?”

     Jen was a white witch, and you had no doubt that whatever wrath the mystery man was going to get, she would be the one to dole it out.

     “In the Mood” started playing and you knew then that Jen had chosen the music selections for the evening.

     “C’mon, (Y|N), let me push you around the dance floor,” Dave said. “Let’s go cut a rug!”

     Dave didn’t wait for an answer, he just grabbed your wrist and pulled you out onto the dancefloor while the peppy beat lifted your spirits a little.

     Sam went in first, no longer willing to wait while Dean drug his feet. Dean stood outside the door to the party, the sounds of the old music, like stuff the MoL had left behind, met his ears. The rustle of fabric and shoes on the wooden floor, a small detail under the music. He watched as Sam disappeared into the crowd of party goers. He felt like an idiot wearing the mask, but he kept telling himself that if Batman could wear a mask and still be badass, he could, too.

     As the notion finally set in, he pulled down on the lapels of his suit jacket and said, “I’m friggin’ Bruce Wayne.” He smiled to himself and strolled into the party feeling as cocky as Bruce Wayne, himself.

     He spotted the food tables and bar. Fairly certain he could down a beer in a minute, he started making his way toward the bar first. Half way there, he caught sight of the taps and the promise of the delicious liquid gold they would soon provide. The crowds of people had slowed his progress when a flash of burgundy from the dancefloor caught his eye. Turning, he stopped to watch the woman dance with a big bear of a man.

     It didn’t matter that she was dolled up for Jen’s fancy party and wearing a mask, he would know her anywhere. He broke into a nervous sweat as he looked around the room and realized the couples he saw were wearing matching colors. Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly to calm himself.

     He rubbed his palms on his pant legs, “Get it together, you’re Bruce Wayne.”

     “You always give yourself these pep talks, Bruce?”

     He looked down into the smiling face of Jen, who was holding a beer and a glass of whiskey.

     “Wasn’t expecting an ambush,” he said, turning back to watch (Y|N) glide over the dancefloor.

     “Take the beer, jerk,” she said, touching the beer to the back of his hand.

     Accepting the bottle, he took a long drink. Jen looked up at him as he watched (Y|N) dance with Dave. She’d seen that look before, the one of silent admiration from afar. She’d seen it on the faces of people who couldn’t have the one their hearts most desired, whether they knew of that desire or not. What made his gaze different was the hint of jealousy mixed with the adoration.

     “You just don’t know how to say ‘thank you,’ do you?” she asked.

     “Look, Jen, I don’t know what you’re trying to do here, but…”

     “Why did you never ask her out?” she prodded. “Were you just too chicken?”

     Dean sputtered a few moments, not knowing how to answer. (Y|N) had been in their lives a long time. Hell, they’d almost grown up together. It felt a little disrespectful to want Bobby’s niece the way he did. She’d spent summers with Bobby and Karen. When his own dad needed to dump him and Sam somewhere, it was often Bobby’s house. She’d started out being the annoying kid that wouldn’t leave him and Sam alone. Then a few years passed and they’d gone back to Sioux Falls when they were going on a hunt and things had been … different.

     It had been hard to ignore the long legs sticking out from under the old Nova. Cutoffs, boots, black tank top, and a flannel tied around the waist, grease smudges on the bare skin of her tanned legs. The blaring noise of Nirvana and Pearl Jam assaulting his ears. He didn’t know who he was expecting to roll out from under the car on the creeper when he switched off the music, but he wasn’t expecting HER… Anyone else and he wouldn’t have batted an eye.

     She’d grown up a hunter’s kid and the niece of a hunter. She knew all there was to know about cars, weapons, music, and monsters. Another few years later, Sam was back, and they’d needed help and called Bobby. Instead of their surrogate uncle coming to help them with a hunt, (Y|N) had shown up in his place. He’d gone into the hunt thinking he’d have to look out for her, but it hadn’t been necessary, she was good, really good. He remembered thinking she could go toe to toe with any of the best and come out ahead.

     Jump ahead to their current situation. She was living in the bunker with him and Sam. After Bobby died, he and Sam felt like they owed Bobby’s only living family a home. Hunting with them, and researching when they needed her, after all, she shared the same blood as Bobby. The woman was a bloodhound on two legs, two long, sexy legs that he often thought about being wrapped around his waist. Her room was even next door to his own. She’d been there for him, through everything…even the nightmares.

     “I don’t know,” he finally admitted to Jen… and himself. “It’s not something I want to talk about with a witch, I can tell you that much.”

     “Well then,” Jen continued, “I suggest you take advantage of the mask, Bruce, and charm the dress off her.”

     Dean was about to tell her exactly where she could go when he realized the song had ended and (Y|N) and the large man were coming over to where they stood.

     Dave was quite the dancer and he’d left you winded as the song ended and he led you off the dancefloor. It wasn’t until you got near the edge that you saw Jen, and a tall man wearing your matching color, talking. You assumed he must have been your mystery date. Not wearing your glasses, it took you a few moments to realize who you were looking at was none other than Dean Winchester.

     “Son of a bitch,” you thought. “Jen, you sneaky witch.”

     “There’s my gorgeous lady!” Dave took Jen in his arms and dipped her into a kiss.

     You were still catching your breath when Dave stood up with Jen.

     “Bruce,” Jen winked at the man in your matching color, “I believe you know this beautiful lady. You two have a nice night.”

     “Sweetheart,” Dave leaned down to kiss your cheek, “always a pleasure. You’ve been holding out on me, we’ll have to dance again real soon!”

     You watched as your friend and her boyfriend walked away. Dean was watching him closely.

     “Is that the guy from Stranger Things?” he asked.

     You nodded. You’d made Dean watch it with you, not that you’d had to twist his arm too much. Finding a good show to watch, when you were at the bunker killing time til the next case, was almost a relief.

     “Yeah, it was a good show, right…Bruce?” you were going to tease him a little with the charade. You didn’t find the idea of spending a little quality time with Dean unappealing. On the contrary, you’d wanted nothing more. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been obvious about how you felt. Ever since you were kids, you’d had a crush on him. He’d always shut down your advances. If he knew it was you, he wasn’t letting on, and if he didn’t know it was you, you hoped he might finally make a move on you.

     “Huh,” he mused. He turned and looked at her in her dress, mask, and gloves. He’d never seen her like that. She was always in hunter gear, but this, this was a whole new ballgame.

     “So, uh… what do we do now?” he asked. Any other time, he would have laid on the charm, given the girl some bullshit story, anything to cut to the chase and get in her pants. (Y|N) would see right through all of that, he had to play it cool.

     “You could ask me to dance,” you offered.

     The music was still playing an up-tempo tune and the party was starting to really pick up. Dean stuck out his elbow to you. Taking his arm, he led you back out onto the dancefloor, just in time for the song to change to “Lady in Red.”

     “Oh um…” you tried to pull away, but Dean only pulled you closer. You looked up into his impossibly green eyes, searching for any hint of what was happening…

     “No, not this time, sweetheart. Never again,” his expression telling you he was completely serious. His grip tightened on your waist, his hand clasping yours to his chest.

     You ignored everyone else but him. He gently swayed to the music with you pressed against him. Your emotions were running wild. The man you’d had feelings for since you were both teenagers was staring into your eyes with such intensity, you couldn’t look away and you didn’t want to.

     “You look beautiful tonight,” he said just loud enough for you to hear.

     Your free hand rested on his bicep. He looked good in burgundy. Hell, he looked good in everything he wore.

     “Not so bad, yourself, Dean,” you said, letting on you knew who he was. You were still unable to break eye contact with the most handsome man you’d ever known.

     He leaned down slightly, finally breaking the hold his eyes held you in. His breath tickling your ear as he spoke, “I should have done this a long time ago.”

I’ve never seen you looking so lovely as you did tonight I’ve never seen you shine so bright I’ve never seen so many men ask you if you wanted to dance They’re looking for a little romance, given half a chance And I have never seen that dress you’re wearing Or the highlights in your hair that catch your eyes I have been blind

     “You could have,” you said softly. You’d carried a torch for him for so long… There were times when you’d be alone at the bunker, watching a movie, or a TV show and just when you thought things were moving toward the next level, he’d leave you hanging and play it off with some lame excuse.

     “You’re Bobby’s niece. You were off limits… and you were an annoying kid,” he chuckled softly.

     You squeezed his arm, unable to get a good grip with your gloved hand, “You weren’t much better, you big jerk, and we’re the same age.”

     “Imagine my surprise when I go back to Bobby’s house and see those long legs of yours sticking out from under that old Nova,” he trailed off.

     “I remember that day,” you confessed, looking up into his eyes. “I was a goner. Seeing you, looking cocky as all hell in that black t-shirt and brown leather jacket… I knew then that I’d never get you out of my system.” You ran your hand up his sleeved arm, your arm going over his shoulder.

     His hand moved to your back pressing you to him.

     “That mouth on you… man, you know how to put a guy in his place,” he admitted.

     “Well, you shouldn’t have touched my stereo or shot your mouth off about me working on cars,” you defended yourself.

I’ve never seen you looking so lovely as you did tonight I’ve never seen you shine so bright I’ve never seen so many men ask you if you wanted to dance They’re looking for a little romance, given half a chance And I have never seen that dress you’re wearing Or the highlights in your hair that catch your eyes I have been blind

     He could smell her hair and feel it catching on his jaw as she moved with him. She felt so good pressed against him, moving with him seamlessly across the dance floor. They’d known each other since they were kids. He had always blamed not telling her how he was feeling because she was more like a sister than someone he would ever fall in love with, but that had been a lie, too. It was a lie he told himself to get through all of the lonely nights, the nights where she would go with someone else, the weeks and months that they were apart. It was all about survival.

     “I’m sorry, by the way, about Bobby,” he was very quiet, almost a whisper. “It was my fault. I got him killed.”

     You squeezed his hand before letting go to put your arm around him. He crushed you to his body, and you knew he must have been reliving the moment in his head.

     “It’s not your fault, Dean. Bobby knew the risks and he would do it all again if he could, I know it,” you tried to reassure him. Sam had told you the story of what happened because Dean couldn’t. At the time, you were more hurt that Dean hadn’t come to tell you himself. Later on, you realized it was because he felt responsible. After a while, you just assumed he didn’t want to talk about it and you didn’t press the issue. You’d come to terms with Bobby’s death long ago. “He loved you and Sam, so much.”

The lady in red is dancing with me, cheek to cheek There’s nobody here, it’s just you and me It’s where I want to be But I hardly know this beauty by my side I’ll never forget the way you look tonight

     His face buried in your neck, you extended your hands behind his head and pulled off your glove. You put your bare hand on the back of his neck, stroking his skin and running your hand up through his hair on the nape. You couldn’t even hear the music anymore, none of the chatter from the other guests, not even the clunk of feet on the wooden floor. There was only Dean. Your heart was damn near bursting out of your chest for him.

I’ve never seen you looking so gorgeous as you did tonight I’ve never seen you shine so bright, you were amazing I’ve never seen so many people want to be there by your side And when you turned to me and smiled, it took my breath away And I have never had such a feeling Such a feeling of complete and utter love, as I do tonight

     “There’s so many things I would’ve done different,” he said releasing his tight hold on you. Still moving to the music, he leaned back a little bit to look at you.

     “Like what?” your bare hand caressing the smooth skin on his neck.

     He looked at her and thought of all the times he wished he had kissed her. The times he wanted to hold her hand. The times they were heading back from a hunt and had just wanted to keep going with her by his side. He’d known she cared for him and that had made it all the more difficult to keep refusing her. In the end, he didn’t know who he was protecting more, her, or himself.

     “That day, when you rolled out from under the Nova, I should have…” he looked into her eyes, she deserved to hear him say it. She deserved to hear him say everything that he’d been holding back for so long.

The lady in red is dancing with me, cheek to cheek There’s nobody here, it’s just you and me It’s where I want to be But I hardly know this beauty by my side I’ll never forget the way you look tonight

     “I should have told you back then that you were making a mistake,” he said. He saw her give him a questioning look. No way would she let him off easy. Patiently, she waited for him to continue. “You were dating that jock, Peter Butler.”

     You smiled up at him. Dating is not the word you would have chosen to describe your two dates with Peter. He was cute, but dumb as a rock. You’d almost forgotten him entirely.

     Dean continued, “…I should have told you that I wanted you.”

     You swallowed hard, “Did you Dean? All those years ago?”

     He nodded. “We should have just gotten in the Impala and drove. I don’t know where, just anywhere away from where we were and tried to forget that we were ever hunters.”

     You both knew that things had worked out the way they should have. You couldn’t imagine doing anything other than hunting and you knew that Dean felt the same way. It was good helping people and killing the scary things that go bump in the night. When you’d reconnected with the Winchesters, you almost felt like you were getting the best of both worlds. You hunted with two of the best men you’d ever known and had a close relationship with them both. Dean was the one that had always held your heart. Anyone else that tried to take it away from him, never really could.

I never will forget the way you look tonight The lady in red, the lady in red The lady in red, my lady in red

     “I know we can never not be hunters but… do you wanna go?” you asked. “Do you want to go get in the Impala and just see where the road takes us? I mean, I’d go to the end of the world with you, if you asked me. I kinda …”

     Dean’s lips were suddenly pressed to yours for one, beautiful moment. It ended just as suddenly as it had begun. Taking a moment to recover, you said, “I’m sorry, if we’re gonna be a thing, you need to kiss me better than that. My toes didn’t even curl.”

     He smiled and reached up to carefully remove your mask, then his own. Dean’s eyes twinkled as he leaned in for another try. This time, his lips were soft as he sucked gently on your lip as he kissed you, his tongue brushing lightly on your lip as yours parted for him. His tongue danced with yours as you moved on the dancefloor. It all felt like a dream.

     “I love you, (Y|N).”

A/N: this may or may not be the end of their story, I haven’t decided yet. I mean, if they leave, how does Sam get home? Where do they go? Anywaaaayyy….

[amanda-teaches]

Escaping the Island - Part 1

Series Summary: You’re in for the fight of your life, trapped on a deadly, ghost-filled island with no way out. The only way to survive is by unraveling a murderous plot. Can you figure out who brought you here and why before it’s too late? Or will you, Sam, and Dean all become their next victims?

Chapter Summary: You accompany your best friend to a mysterious dinner at a beautiful, island-based mansion. But, when you arrive, you find that there may be more to this dinner than you ever would have thought possible.

Characters/Pairing: Dean x Reader, Sam

Word Count: 3101

Warnings: an overaggressive, manhandling man who grabs the reader; sexy, protective Dean; not much so far

A/N: This is my first ever series! I’ve been planning this for awhile and I’m really excited about it. It was betaed by the fantastic @cyrilconnelly, who helps me so much. I also threw in the quote for @because-imma-lady-assface‘s 300 Follower/Birthday/Will and Grace revival/all around extravaganza celebration! My prompt was a Jack quote (my fav!): “Sarcasm noted and quickly forgotten,” and I thought it fit really well in here. I hope y’all enjoy the first part of this 10 part series! Feedback is much appreciated.

Escaping the Island MasterPost

“Come on, Y/N! You have to come with me,” your best friend, Annie Jackson, pleaded as she paced in continuous circles around the couch where you were sitting.

“No, thank you,” you replied, never taking your eyes off the magazine you held in your hands. As Annie continued her loop around the couch, you paid her little attention, only occasionally needing to move your feet off the coffee table to let her pass by. But, as soon as she was clear, your feet went right back to their previous position and your attention right back to your magazine.

Eventually, though, the pacing got to be too much. The sight of her in your peripheral vision was making you dizzy, and you were pretty sure she was going to wear a hole through the floor. You glanced up from your magazine and sighed heavily. “Annie, why don’t you sit? You’re not going to feel any better about this dinner if you exhaust yourself pacing.”

“Fine,” she groaned, flopping down dramatically on the couch next to you, “I’ll sit. BUT, that doesn’t mean you’re getting out of this, Y/N. I need you to come!”

“I can’t, Ann.”

“Give me one good reason why.”

You rolled your eyes. “Hmm, ok. Maybe because, I don’t want to? Besides,” you added before she could argue, “I wasn’t even invited.”

She waved her hand to dismiss that comment. “Oh, I’m sure they won’t mind another guest.”

“Annie…”

Suddenly, you were interrupted by Annie screaming your name so loud that you actually cringed at the high pitch. “Y/N, please,” she begged, looking at you with giant puppy dog eyes. “I can’t do this alone! Please, please, please! I’ll do anything!”

You studied her pleading face for a second before you gave in. “Fine,” you said with a laugh. “I’ll go. I’ll go.”

“Yes,” she muttered, sitting back with a triumphant smile.

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously. “You knew I’d give in, didn’t you?”

She shot you a look that had a certain gleam you knew all too well. “Well….we are best friends.”

“I knew it!” you cried, jumping up and pointing down at her. “I never should have fallen for the old puppy dog eyes trick.”

She threw her head back and laughed. “Well, it’s too late now. You’re going.”

“Fine, fine,” you muttered resignedly. You placed your hands on your hips and looked down at her. “But, if I’m going to this dinner party, I may as well know what it’s for. Who’s throwing it again?”

“I’m not sure,” Annie whispered. She picked the invitation up from the coffee table and glanced down at it. “It doesn’t say who’s throwing it. It just says I’m invited to a dinner to celebrate the memory of Jacob Dawson.”

“Your old boss? Didn’t he die like a year ago?”

“Yeah, but I guess they decided to finally have a memorial dinner. It’s going to be held at his old house, but it’ll probably just be friends and coworkers sitting around reminiscing about him. He didn’t have any family.”

“I have a question: why are they having a memorial dinner now instead of right after he died? It’s been a year.”

“Beats me,” she shrugged. “But, a free dinner’s a free dinner.”

“I guess,” you said, still a little unsure.

Annie stood up and grabbed your hands excitedly. “Oh come on, Y/N. Don’t look so nervous. It’s just dinner. How bad can it be?”

Five hours later, when you were standing on the edge of the dock freezing through the thin material of your evening dress, you were starting to think that “just dinner” could be pretty bad indeed. In fact, you were seriously starting to regret ever agreeing to come to this dinner with Annie in the first place.

“Uh, Annie,” you muttered, as you picked up the already wet hem of your dress from its place on the ground, “why didn’t you didn’t tell me this thing was on a freezing cold island in the middle of freaking nowhere?”

“You didn’t ask,” she said with nonchalant shrug before she took off down the path in front of you.

You quickly followed, glancing up at the imposing mansion that rested at the top of the steep, hilly path. You let out a low whistle. “Was I the only one who didn’t know that your boss was practically Bruce Wayne?”

“He wasn’t that rich,” she said, looking back over her shoulder with a smile. “At least I don’t think he was.”

You flashed her an expression that screamed of exasperation. “He owned his own island, Ann. His. Own. Island.”

She burst out laughing as the two of you came to a stop in front of the door. “Ok, fair point.” She turned to you and dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Here, I’ll make you a deal. We go in now and you’ll be the first to know if I find any batmobiles.”

“Hahaha,” you muttered sarcastically before reaching out to ring the doorbell. But, before you could, the door clicked and slowly creaked open on its own. You looked inside to see who had opened it, but no one was there. “Yeah, that’s not creepy at all….”

“Oh, shush,” Annie said. She grabbed your arm and pulled you inside. “It’s probably just a motion sensor or something.”

“Yeah, sure,” you whispered. “Cause, that’s always what it is in horror movies.”

You walked cautiously into the house and, once you were inside, Annie dropped your arm. Seizing the opportunity, you took a quick look around the vast entryway you were standing in.

The sight momentarily stunned you. It looked like something straight out of a fairytale. Two giant double doors stood facing you, with ornate carvings adorning the edges. There was a grand, sweeping staircase that curved up one wall, around the room, and into the opposite wall, the balcony disappearing into an opening above you. The elegantly patterned tile floor underneath your feet practically gleamed, reflecting the gigantic, waterfall chandelier that hung from the ceiling.

“Wow….” you breathed out quietly. This was the kind of room that demanded a certain element of deference.

Annie, on the other hand, felt no need to be quiet. “Hello?” she shouted, her voice echoing throughout the foyer. “Is anyone here?”

The sound of her reverberating voice instantly brought your attention back to the situation at hand. “Oh, that’s a great idea, Annie. Let the creepy serial killer know we’re here.”

Annie continued to look around the foyer, not even bothering to look your way when she replied. “Sarcasm noted and quickly forgotten, Y/N.”

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “It doesn’t look like anyone’s here, Ann. Maybe we should just go. I don’t think….”

Before you could finish your thought, the massive double doors flew open and a well-dressed man came striding through. He was wearing a three pieced suit that reeked of wealth, his salt and pepper hair slicked back, framing an unpleasant face that was twisted with anger. He leveled a glare in your direction. “Well, it’s about time you showed up. We’ve been waiting here for over 20 minutes! You call that service?!”

“Excuse me?” You backed up slightly as he advanced, his anger startling you.

“When I accepted this ridiculous invitation, I expected a gathering worthy of Jacob’s memory, not this unmitigated disaster. Frankly, young lady, the help showing up late does not make a very good first impression.”

Annie hurried over to your side and held up her hands, stopping the man’s tirade. “No, no, no, Mr. Leder! Y/N’s not the help! She’s with me.”

Mr. Leder turned his glare on Annie. “Oh, Ms. Jackson. I should have known you’d be involved in this whole debacle. Just when I thought this night couldn’t get any worse.”

Annie closed her eyes and sighed heavily. “Nice to see you too, Mr. Leder.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” he sneered haughtily before turning on his heels and stalking back through the double doors. You stared after him in shock for a minute before turning to Annie.

“Well, he seems nice…”

Annie turned to you and scowled. “Haha, very funny.” Then, her face fell. “Man, if I had known he was going to be here, I never would have come.”

“Who was that guy anyway?”

“Harold P. Leder. He was Mr. Dawson’s old business partner and I was his secretary too. He didn’t, well, he didn’t exactly like me.”

“I gathered that much, Annie.”

“Yeah,” she muttered, although she seemed distracted, like her mind was somewhere else entirely. “Ugh! I can’t believe he’s here! He hated Mr. Dawson by the time he died. Why would he even come to this?”

“I don’t know, but we don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to. We can still leave.”

Annie smiled for a second, but then she heard Mr. Leder bellowing her name from the other room and her face fell all over again. “So much for that idea,” she muttered. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Hey, now you sound like me,” you whispered playfully, drawing a small laugh out of your friend as you followed her over to the double doors leading to the room off of the foyer.

When you entered, you saw Mr. Leder right away. He was standing by the stately fireplace in the back of the room, with one hand on the mantle and the other hand waving around a tumbler full of scotch. He was talking, or rather yelling, at a beautiful, well-dressed woman standing next to him. She was middle-aged, although, she was the kind of woman that you could tell had been absolutely stunning in her prime.

You happily pulled your eyes away from the fighting pair and over to the couch in front of the fireplace, where another couple was sitting. They were younger, late 20s, maybe early 30s, and they definitely looked happier than Mr. Leder and his companion. The man had his arm around the woman and she was leaning into him familiarly as she chatted with another young woman, who was sitting across from her with her back to you.

Annie leaned over to whisper to you. “The man on the couch is Will McHale. He was Mr. Dawson’s attorney. I’m not sure about the woman next to him. But, I know the other woman. That’s Stacey Crane. She was Mr. Dawson’s girlfriend, if you could call it that. I like to think of her as the gold digger who just missed out on becoming a trophy wife.”

You laughed out loud, inadvertently alerting the people in the room to your presence. At once, they all turned to look you, making you feel instantly self-conscious. You cleared your throat and held up your hand. “Uh, sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt your little Downton Abbey convention. As you were.”

You heard a deep laugh come from the other side of the room and instinctively turned to find the source, only to discover that it came from the most gorgeous man you had ever seen. He was leaning against the far wall, one ankle crossed over another, looking effortlessly sexy in his dark red flannel and faded jeans. When he saw you looking at him, he smiled and winked. You smiled back.

You glanced over at the taller man standing next to him, who was also intensely attractive in his own right. In fact, you were surprised it taken you this long to notice the two of them. They were both unbelievably sexy and irresistible. You shifted your gaze back to the first man just as the taller, longer-haired one leaned down to address him, making him pull his eyes away from yours, breaking your brief connection.

You were about to turn back to Annie and ask her who the men were when Mr. Leder distracted you by grabbing your arm.

“Ah, I see Ms. Jackson and her little friend have decided to stick around. Y/N, was it?”

“Yes,” you repeated fiercely, anger seething under the surface at the way he was treating you. Did this man have no manners? You tried to pull your arm out of his grip, but his grasp was iron-clad. “Is there a problem?”

“Well,” he whispered spitefully, leaning in close until he was just inches away from your face, “I don’t believe you were invited to this little gathering, Ms. Y/N, and I don’t take kindly to party crashers.”

“Get your hands off of her,” a deep voice boomed from behind you. You shifted your head slightly to see the man with green eyes stalking towards you at a fast speed. He looked downright murderous and you were relieved knowing that you weren’t the target of that anger: Mr. Leder was.

Mr. Leder quickly started backing away from the intensity rolling off of the stranger, but his hand remained on your arm. When the handsome man stopped beside you, he stared Mr. Leder down with a look of pure hatred. “I said, get your hands off of her.”

The woman Mr. Leder had been yelling at earlier rushed forward to diffuse the situation. “Oh, now, let’s not get carried away. There’s no need for fighting.” She turned to Mr. Leder. “Come now, Harold, stop scaring the girl.”

Mr. Leder wavered for just a second before he released your arm. The mystery man instantly relaxed, but he stayed right by your side with his fists gently clenched.

The woman who had calmed Mr. Leder down took the opportunity the silence presented to plaster on an insincere smile and hold out her hand to you. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Gretta Leder. I would like to apologize for my husband’s behavior. He doesn’t always play well with others, but he means you no harm.”

You took a quick glance at the attractive man standing next to you, who was still poised for trouble, and decided to take the high road. “Um, it’s ok, I guess. No harm, no foul. I think we can all just move past it.”

“Sounds like a plan to me!” yelled the lawyer, Will McHale, as he stood up to join you. He excitedly clasped Mr. Leder on the shoulder. “All of you should just ignore little old Harold here. I know I always do,” he added with a laugh.

You caught the rage that flickered across Mr. Leder’s face as Will held out his hand to you. “I’m Will McHale, attorney at law. It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.” He gestured to the woman who he had left sitting on the couch. “That right there is my girlfriend, Abby Hallman, and that,” he said, pointing at the gold digger, “is Stacey Crane.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said politely. As he turned to talk to Annie, you twisted slightly to face your defender. “And how do you fit into this crowd?”

He looked down at you and laughed, the tension easing out of him as his eyes met yours. “I don’t. Actually,” he said, gesturing back at the tall man behind him, “my brother and I don’t even know any of these crazy people. We just met that Dawson guy right before he, um…Well, right before he died.”

“Oh,” you laughed. To tell the truth, you were relieved that he wasn’t associated with the other people in the room. They all seemed like stuck-up, rich snobs, and you couldn’t bear the thought that the man with the dazzling eyes and gorgeous smile was one of them.

His brother, who had curiously stayed out of the entire volatile incident, chose that moment to walk up and stand next to the two of you. “Hi, I’m Sam. Y/N, right?” You nodded and he gave you a warm, comforting smile. “It’s nice to meet you. I see you’ve already met my brother, Dean.”

“Yes.” Dean. His name was Dean. “Thanks for your help, by the way.”

“Not a problem. That guy had no business putting his hands on you.”

“Like hell I didn’t!” Mr. Leder bellowed, interrupting your conversation.

“Harold,” his wife warned, but he paid her no mind.

“I don’t care what any of these morons say. This woman has no business here. She didn’t even know Jacob.”

Dean started towards him. “You know what, you son of a…”

Before Dean could finish his threat, the lights started flickering, stopping him. In unison, everyone looked up and watched as every light in the room started flickering.

“Sammy,” Dean growled urgently as he moved back to stand protectively next to you. The flickering became more intense, and the room shook violently, compelling you to grab Dean’s arm to steady not only your balance but your rapidly beating heart. Suddenly, the lights gave out entirely, plunging the room into darkness. A shrill scream sounded out, echoing throughout the room, and you clutched Dean’s arm tighter.

Then, as quickly as it had started, it was over. The lights came back on revealing everyone in the room again. No one was missing.

“Alright,” Sam said. “Nobody panic. Everything’s going to be fine. Who screamed?”

Everyone shook their heads. Dean groaned angrily. “Well, somebody did. So, who was it?”

“I don’t care who it was,” Stacey cried, jumping up from her seat and pushing her way forward. “I, for one, am definitely not going to stick around to find out. This party is a disaster. I’m out of here.”

She stalked out the door and the group followed, Sam yelling after her as they did. “Ms. Crane, wait! This is serious. We need to stay together.”

“Not happening, handsome. I’m out of here.”

“I’m with her,” Harold Leder asserted, grabbing his wife’s hand. He followed Stacey out the door and into the foyer. Will and his girlfriend, Abby, followed.

Sam raced after them while you, Dean, and Annie entered the foyer at the back of the group. You watched closely as Sam tried in vain to stop the exodus. You started to lean over to ask Dean why his brother was so intent on stopping them from leaving, but you were interrupted by an ear piecing scream. You looked over to see Will’s girlfriend, Abby, frozen with fear. She was pointing just over your shoulder.

You spun around and what you saw in front of you stopped you cold. You heard Annie’s sharp intake of breath beside you, but you barely registered it. You were too focused on the apparition standing in front of you.

It was a honest-to-goodness ghost, and it was staring straight at you.

Keep Reading with Part 2

Forevers- @hamartiamacguffin @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @katymacsupernatural @impandagrl @cyrilconnelly @damnandriel-in-hell @impala-dreamer @castielhasthetardis @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @shotgunintheimpala @mysterious398

Dean Tags- @akshi8278

Pond tags (I’ll be using them for the first part only so that I don’t bother people who aren’t interested. If you would like to continue to be tagged in the series, please send an ask, and I’ll be happy to keep tagging you!)

@thing-you-do-with-that-thing @nichelle-my-belle @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @notnaturalanahi @whispersandwhiskerburn @roxy-davenport @deathtonormalcy56 @samsgoddess @frenchybell @spn-fan-girl-173@deansleather @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @waywardjoy@mrswhozeewhatsis @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious @kayteonline@supernatural-jackles @wevegotworktodo @quiddy-writes @babypieandwhiskey @wi-deangirl77 @deantbh @chaos-and-the-calm67 @memariana91 @plaidstiel-wormstache @chelsea-winchester @fandommaniacx @castieltrash1 @supernaturalyobessed @ruined-by-destiel @tasteofdean @winchester-writes @deals-with-demons @faith-in-dean @winchestersmolder @bennyyh @clueless-gold @melbelle45 @winchester-family-business

[winchester-with-wings]

Growing Pains, Part 2 / (Second Chances Series)

Bruce Wayne x daughter!reader fic!

AUTHOR: @faithtrustandpixiedust95

Summary: The Circus was supposed to be a good time...

Word Count: 2900ish

Warnings: Dick Grayson backstory

A/N: reader is about 12ish. My sister is writing her fics all in the same universe but each one has a different title and are broken into parts. DIVERGES FROM CANON >>>Dick is 12!

*Disclaimer* I did not write this. My sister, Sam, did and I am posting this with her permission.

Sequel to

“Shattered Beginnings” 1 / 2

“Adjusting” 1 / 2

“Growing Pains” 1

Sam’s Mobile Masterlist

Once Friday rolled around, you were fidgeting with excitement. School couldn’t end soon enough and you had told your coach and Roy that you were taking the afternoon off from training to go to the show.

You made it home relatively quickly and got dressed for the special occasion. Bruce told you to keep it somewhat casual, it wasn’t something that required a dress, like his galas did. So you decided on a pair of clean jeans, without your signature holes in them, and a nice soft pink v-neck long sleeve shirt paired with a blue scarf. It was still nice looking yet casual, the perfect outfit to wear for a nice dinner and event afterwards. You touched up your hair with your straightener and put on a necklace and some earrings and you were ready.

Bruce had decided on jeans as well; he paired them with a black button down shirt leaving it open and a white crew neck shirt underneath. Again, casual, but nice.

When it came time to go, you got into the car and Alfred drove you two to a nice restaurant downtown where you had dinner. Once you were done with dinner, you made your way to the venue where the circus was being held.

You entered and found your seats with ease. Knowing Bruce, he always picked the best seats in the house with the greatest view, tonight was no exception. Your seats had the perfect vantage point of the arena and you would be able to see everything.

The show began shortly after you took your seats, you were enjoying the performance, but you were the most excited for the trapeze artists, you had heard of them.

The ringmaster started his introduction.

“Ladies and Gentlemen! I have saved our best performance for last. The most thrilling and suspenseful part of your night is about to begin!” the man shouted into his microphone, he knew how to build up his show and get the crowd responding.

You were repeatedly tugging on the sleeve of Bruce’s shirt with excitement, “This is them, Dad! The Flying Graysons, this is gonna be awesome!”

“This isn’t your typical acrobatic circus stunt, people! This is a family of performers. They’ve been with our circus longer than any other act and they’ve got the skills to prove it. This isn’t just one acrobat or two acrobats we’re talking about either, it’s three! A loving mother, a daring father, and a brave son. Without further ado, I give you, The Flying Graysons!” the ringmaster finished his introduction, gesturing for the spotlight to move to the performers standing on a platform close to the ceiling of the venue.

“Oh, wait folks! I think I forgot to mention that these three fliers, prefer to perform without the safety of a net below them,” the ringmaster interjected, earning a gasp and cheer from the crowd that was deafening, “This family truly fears no obstacle and trusts each other with their lives...now, let’s watch them fly!!!”

The family of acrobats stood on their small platform waving to the audience. The father was a rather tall man that was muscular and lean for his size, he had dark brown hair that contrasted his red uniform. The mother was a petite woman with black hair that was braided into an intricate design with glitter glistening in the spotlight.

The son, however, was a lot younger than you thought he would be. He had to be around your age, maybe 11 or 12, and he was small but fit for his size. You could see the muscle that lined his lean frame in the red and green uniform. He had short black hair with a yellow tie wrapped around his head in a headband fashion.

The family saluted the crowd as everyone went silent. Music started to play for their performance and without hesitation the dad, with a bar in his hand, lept off the platform to execute a backflip transition to the next bar. He twisted around and swung back the other way.

The mother had caught the retreating bar and flew off the platform. Suspended on the bar, she released her grip and flipped in a graceful manner, just in time to match her hands with her husband’s.

You were holding your breath and had a tight grip on the sleeve of Bruce’s shirt. You were transfixed on the performance and Bruce was admiring your concentration when you pointed up to the tethering system that held the bars for the trapeze artists in place. Bruce’s eye followed to where you were pointing and he saw what you were looking at.

The tethering system had been tampered with and the bar that the parents were now swinging on was about to come undone.

You stood up from your chair and screamed to the boy who was about to leap off the platform, “Don’t jump, don’t jump!”

He was about to go when he saw you pointing at his parent’s bar and stopped. He noticed something was wrong with the rigging of the trapeze. His parents were talking to each other mid-flight trying to figure out what to do, but the tether holding the bar to the rigging had just broke. The parents tried to flip and slow their momentum to the ground the way they had been trained to do at such heights, but it made no difference.

They fell.

All around you, people were screaming at the sight unfolding before them; parents were covering their children's’ eyes to keep them from seeing the awful sight. Others were getting up from their seats and leaving the venue out of panic.

Bruce had disappeared from your side and you knew he had run to get his suit and investigate the scene before the police came. And you? You were just looking at the young boy on the platform, who had just watched his parents die.

Everyone had left their seats and it was quiet in the arena. You had stayed at your seat, waiting for the boy to come down from the platform.

It was after about 10 minutes of waiting that you decided that you would go up the ladder to him instead.

You left your seat and got to the arena floor. You looked up the pillar that the platform was secured to and you began to climb the ladder.You felt the pillar sway gently under each step you took.

When you got to the platform, you slowly crawled onto it, making sure to keep a firm grip on the nearest handhold. You saw the boy sitting on the edge of the platform with his legs hanging over the side.

You crawled on all four over to where he was sitting and adjusted yourself so you were sitting right next to him.

He remained quiet. You could see tears silently falling from his closed eyes and you could feel the hurt he had in his heart at the moment.

You weren’t quite sure what to say so you started with, “I’m sorry…”

He didn’t open his eyes, he didn’t even budge at the words that were murmured next to him, he just let out a sob and put his hands to his face.

You sat there with him, gently rubbing his back in comforting circles the way Bruce would do to you after a nightmare.

You noticed paramedics and police officers were now entering the arena to start their investigation. You looked across from you to the other platform on the opposite side; you saw Batman’s eyes flash and his figure disappear from the platform. You had made eye contact with him and you knew he gave an understanding nod for you to stay with the boy and comfort him.

“My name is Y/N Wayne. What’s yours?” you gently asked in a soft voice.

“Dick...my name is Dick Grayson,” he uttered after a deep and ragged breath.

“Dick, would you wanna come down from the platform with me and we can talk?” you suggested. You were uneasy in your current location.

You feared the boy would make a split-second decision himself and slip off the platform out of sorrow. You didn’t want that to happen, so you were trying to move to the ground where it was safe.

He lifted his head to look at you and nodded that moving to the ground would be the better idea. You sat there looking at each other for a second. You saw the sorrow in his eyes.

Being closer to him now, you were able to see all the features of his face. He had that jet black hair that he inherited from his parents and hazel eyes with flecks of gold and brown littering the iris. He had a few freckles dusting his nose and thin lips that were a soft pink. His skin was a tad more tan than the spotlight had made it look from below. He had taken off the yellow tied headband and it was sitting next to him.

You slowly moved back from the edge of the platform where your legs were hanging over and you grabbed the pole that the platform was centered around. You were hugging it a bit tighter than intended because it was swaying with the movement.

Dick had turned around to move towards the ladder with you when the fabric of his uniform caused him to slip.

You turned around in an instant and grabbed his hand as he was about to fall off the platform; you had slipped closer to the edge of the platform when his weight fell on your grasp. The blue scarf you had been wearing slipped off from around your neck and floated down to the ground, it was a long way down. He was holding on tight to your wrist and you to his. Your other hand a grip on a handlebar that was bolted to the platform. You were holding on tight, wincing in slight pain.

The police and paramedics below you saw what had happened and were watching helplessly from below, telling you to hold on. Bruce had walked into the arena, gaining entrance by telling the guards his daughter was still inside, when he saw you up there holding onto the boy. He yelled your name out of concern and ran to the base of the pillar.

“No, Dad, don’t touch the pillar. It sways with any movement, I don’t want to lose my grip on Dick!” you yelled down to your father. He stopped right before he touched the ladder, trusting your judgement. He stepped back and watched from below.

You were staring right into Dick’s eyes with confidence and strength, “I’ve got you. I’m gonna pull you up okay?”

He looked down and gulped, “Okay,” he just barely managed to utter.

You adjusted your grip on his wrist and then adjusted your grip on the handlebar you were using as leverage. You took in a deep breath and began to pull Dick up to where he was able to grab the edge of the platform with his other hand. You readjusted again this time putting a foot against the handlebar and pulled Dick the rest of the way onto the platform using your legs to help you lift him.

When he got his knees onto the platform, he crawled closer to you and just hugged you with your back against the pillar to assure that you were both away from the edge.

You hugged him too, knowing that it was what he needed in the moment, “I told you, I’ve got you, Dick. It’s gonna be okay, but can we please get down from here?” you begged him. He nodded and you both made your way to the ladder and climbed down.

When both feet were firmly on the ground, Bruce rushed over to you and hugged you tighter than he had in a long time, “You scared me there for a second, Squeaker, but I guess you’re stronger than I thought.”

“I’m okay, Dad, really. Dad, this is Dick Grayson. Dick, this is my dad, Bruce Wayne,” you introduced your dad to the boy who was slightly taller than you.

He walked up to your dad, rubbing the back of his neck like he was expecting a lecture on putting his daughter in danger, but Bruce just put his hands on the boy’s shoulders and looked him in the eye with understanding. Dick gave him a small smile.

“We’re going to figure out what happened here tonight, Dick, I promise,” your dad said with sincerity in his voice.

“I think I know what happened,” Dick softly muttered just loud enough for you and Bruce to hear.

“If that’s the case, I’m going to have you talk to my friend Gordon. He’s a police officer and he’s going to help you, would you be willing to talk to him?” your dad asked the young man, who now seemed like a shell of a person.

“Yeah,” was all the boy could say, looking down at his feet.

Dick was sitting in Gordon’s office at the police department. You and your dad were waiting outside; you had offered for him to stay at the Manor while the police figured out what to do next.

“Alright son, Mr. Wayne said you might know what happened tonight at the show, why don’t you tell me what you know,” Gordon softly encouraged him.

“Well, today before the show, I was walking around backstage. I heard some people talking in a room as I walked by and it sounded pretty tense, so I stayed behind to listen to what was going on,” he started of in a low voice, the more he talked his voice slowly got louder to a normal tone. “I heard Mr. Haly, the owner of the circus, my dad, who was the show manager, and an unfamiliar voice. They were kind of arguing and the longer I stayed I found out that the unfamiliar voice was threatening Mr. Haly. The guy kept saying that the show needed ‘protection’ from possible vandals. But Haly knew the guy was hustling him and he refused said ‘protection’. The guy got really mad and started yelling at him, so my dad stepped in to tell the guy to get lost. That’s when the guy threatened them and said, ‘You’ll be sorry for refusing me. I’m not someone who forgets things easily.’ and the guy walked out of the room.”

Gordon had been listening and making notes of Dick’s story, “Did you get a good look at the guy that was threatening your dad and Mr. Haly?”

“Yeah, I was hiding outside of the room and saw the guy walk out,” Grayson then went about describing the unknown man to a sketch artist who came up with a drawing that resembled Tony Zucco, a local mob boss who liked to extort businesses.

“Okay, Dick. So what I’m about to tell you might be upsetting, but I think you have a right to know,” Gordon prefaced, “Son, it looks like someone sabotaged the tether system that the trapeze bars were on. We found several parts of the system had been tampered with and was extremely loose and unsafe to use. From what I’m gathering from your statement, it sounds like Zucco set up your act to get revenge on Mr. Haly and your dad for refusing his shakedown.” Gordon let out a disappointed sigh.

Dick had just been sitting there listening to Gordon’s explanation and he didn’t respond after Gordon had finished. He just sat in the chair looking at his hands.

“So what happens to me know?” he muttered softly.

“Well, Mr. Wayne and Y/N have opened their home to you if you’d like to stay with them ‘til we find room with a foster family?” was Gordon’s reply.

“Okay,” the boy sounded so defeated and Gordon hated seeing it.

Gordon seemed to have been dealing with a lot more orphan cases than he had handled in a long time. Gotham had it’s waves of crime though and orphaned children were the leftover debris from the destruction of the city.

He walked Dick out of his office and briefly talked to Mr. Wayne about the whole thing.

Meanwhile Dick came to sit by you. You had a cup of hot cocoa in your hands and you had an extra cup sitting on the table next to you, you handed it to him with a sympathetic smile.

“Ya know, the Joker killed my parents when I was 6, he almost killed me too; but Bruce saved me,” you offered the words, “I have a feeling he might save you too.”

Dick looked at you surprised at your words, “I’m sorry about your parents.”

“It’s okay...out of struggle, eventually comes success. Of course there’s always growing pains, but we get through them. I mean, Bruce has been a great dad to me ever since he adopted me, and I have a feeling he’s gonna help take care of you too, Dick. For now, you’ll live with us and we’ll be here for you no matter what you need.”

A comfortable smile crossed his face and he took a sip of his hot cocoa as Bruce walked up to the two of you, smiled, and said, “Let’s go home.”

Tagging: @disappointeddinosaur  @readerlucy​ @alohalisha​ @fantastic-fantasy-fanfics​ @sleepingalong​ @faithtrustandpixiedust95​ @ahsokaslament​ @annabananna394​ @kiri-hakumei @chrisevansisdaddy04 @emily-83113 @heyitsilverwolf @evyiione @abbytheninja

[smoke-eyes-fic]

April Fool’s Drabble

Sorry folks cucu and I are still working on the new chapter. Getting schedules and brain meats lined up in the proper times to get stuff done has been a rather insane venture.  So as a sort of apology, and in observation of April Fool’s I give you an old drabble from my folders of long ago. It sadly doesn’t have an end cause I was never sure where to cut it off. Feel free to create the rest yourself.  Timeline wise - this is after all the whatever-goes-down in the fic. A happy ending with a house and a dog. And hi-jinks ensue. This is based on an old joke I made ages back. Many apologies to those who don’t get the gag. 

It had been an uneventful dusty summer day.  The few chores around the farm had been done in the early morning before the Texas sun started beating down. There was some minor maintenance work that needed to be done on Sam's tractor. But Engineer would get to that when the sun wasn't so high. In the mean time he'd been dozing on the couch watching a Western on the television with Fleabag the hound asleep on his feet. Spy had declared he'd seen enough John Wayne in his lifetime and was in some other part of the house reading.  The Spook was getting restless again, soon he'd start insisting they leave the farm and go traveling.

The doorbell rang startling the Texan awake, Fleabag bayed loudly running to greet whoever was at the door. "Better not be another salesman" he muttered darkly as he slowly rose from the couch, he had hoped they would have learned after the last time. "Just a minute" he called stomping to the door. "Dangit Flea!" he grunted grabbing the dog by the collar dragging him back so he could open the door. "Can ah hel-" he froze as he squinted at the figure through the screen door. 

It was a young girl in a red dress and a beat up red sun hat that threatened to slip over her eyes. "Hullo" she said quietly pushing her hat back to peer up at him. She looked to be no older than six he guessed, too young to be out by herself. Something about her made him doubt she was here to sell cookies. Girl scouts didn't usually bring suitcases with them. He wasn't sure why, but he had a sinking suspicion he knew who to blame for this.

His suspicions were confirmed as she finally added  "I'm looking for my Papa."  

This was a bad dream, he tried to tell himself, closing his eyes for a moment. He would open them and he'd still be on the couch with his movie.  He opened his eyes and the girl and her red hat and suitcase were still standing on the doorstep with no sign of disappearing into thin air."Spah!" he yelled into the house "Git out here!"

Unable in good conscience to leave the child on the doorstep he opened the screen door and gestured for her to come in. Quietly she stepped inside, she turned to her suit case but the Texan had already picked it up. He noticed it was battered but well made, labels from all over the world covered the scuffed leather.

"Who was at the door?" Spy asked walking into the room."Relative of yours?" he asked glancing at the girl, his eyes seemed to avoid looking at the suitcase.

"Actually-"

"Papa!" the girl cut the Texan off walking towards the Frenchman.

A choked sound emitted from Spy's mouth instead of words as he stood rigid in the doorway.

"-She says she's one of yours." Engineer finished lamely.

The child stopped in front of him oblivious to the fact the man was turning a rather unpleasant shade of gray.  She placed her chubby hand into her dress pocket and pulled out a small sealed envelope and held it out to him. Quickly regaining composure Spy accepted the letter, ripping it open. His eyes darted across the papers, narrowing with every line before his hand lowered  and glowered at the girl.

"What's it say?" the Texan asked but neither the girl or Frenchman offered any explanation.

Brushing past the girl he took the letter from Spy's slack grip. It was elegant stationary, the message itself was French written in neat flowery feminine hand writing.

"This is a trick." Spy insisted loudly to no one in particular. "Putain de menteur,"

"Don't use language like that with kids present."  Engineer scolded him as he tried to translate the letter but was having trouble concentrating, his mind reeling through too many things at once.  Who was this girl? Where was her mother? Who was her mother?  How did she come to be here in the middle of Texas?

"Merde! -I'll use whatever language I feel lik-" the Frenchman found himself silenced by one of the Texan's hands over his mouth.

"Hush." he hissed, looking at the ceiling and began slowly counting to ten, trying to organize his thoughts.

He never doubted that Spy had children. From his understanding of the man and his past misadventures, he was willing to guess the snake had fathered at least three or four. Though that was a rather conservative guess he told himself. He never expected to meet any of them. Let alone for one to end up on his doorstep.

He hoped this wasn't the start of a trend.

Finally reaching ten he lowered his hand from Spy's mouth hoping the idiot would have the sense to stay quiet for the time being. Looking back down at the girl he noted the resemblance between her and Spy. The same eyes, dark hair, thankfully she seemed to have been spared the man's nose.

"Where's your Mama  sweetie?" he asked kneeling down to look her in the eye.

"Dunno, she dropped me off at the gate." the girl informed him simply as if this was the most normal thing in the world ."She told me I was staying here for a while with my Papa and his friend while she worked." Well that explained the suitcase, and why he hadn't heard a car drive up. Or why the girl didn't seem confused to see him in addition to her father.

"She's not staying here!" Spy insisted to no one who was listening.

"What's your name?"  

The girl's eyes darted up at Spy and back to him, "Carmen" she responded, not the least bit shy.

"Ah tell yah what, Carmen. Let's go to the kitchen, get you some cookies and milk while your Papa and I talk. Would you like that?"

The girl eagerly nodded and followed him into the small kitchen. He sat her down at the table and pulled a couple of cookies out of the cookie jar. He nervously bit into one of the cookies, hardly tasting it as he chewed into dust,  before putting the entire ceramic jar in front of the girl. Glaring at Spy who had tried to palm a cookie for himself,  he poured the child a large mug of milk and left the jug out where she could hopefully reach it.

"Now you stay here, while we talk in the other room.  Alright?"  Carmen was too occupied with her mouth full of crumbs to do much more than nod. With a wide forced smile for the girl's benefit he grabbed Spy's arm before he could slip away and dragged the protesting man out of the kitchen to the other end of the house, hopefully out of ear shot.  

"That girl and her putain mère are liars!" Spy insisted to Engineer who leaned on the door that was only escape from the room.

"Who's her mother?" he asked irritably.

"It was a long time ago." the Frenchman answered defensively. "Years - before you and I-"

"-That's obvious. So who is she?"

"I was trailing her for BLU, they suspected she was courier for an exchange of Austrailium from a black market source. Then one thing led to another and-" the man shrugged pulling his cigarette case out of his pocket.

"So who is she?"

"She was an agent for Reliable Excavation. One of their spies, our paths had never crossed before. Never crossed after. It was a- one night tryst."

"Yah slept with an enemy Spy?!"  

"I slept with you!" Spy pointed out.  "Still do," he added.

"T-that's-" the Texan sputtered. "t-that's neither here nor there!" he insisted feeling his ears burn. "B-but an enemy spy?" He shouldn't be surprised that the man had affairs with others from RED. He'd known that the Frenchman had little regard for rules or boundaries. At least that explained how the woman had tracked Spy down here. He imagined that only another person in the same line of work could manage that. He held the letter over his face and skimmed the letter haphazardly translating the French writing in his head.

Dear [what the hell does she call him - his name - his alias? Spy? Shithead? Idiot?]

I see you and your pet cowboy have settled down for now. You do like to make yourself difficult to find don't you?

You've had your fun, now it's time to take responsibility for past mistakes. I'm sure you don't remember much of me or that night we fought in Las Vegas. Or what came after. I wouldn't have thought much of it myself, if it wasn't for the end results. Her name is Carmen by the way.  

I've been called away to a job - I'll be away for an unknown amount of time and it seemed it was high time the two of you got to know each other. I'm sure you'd agree with me that a child should know their parents. If only to see what poor life choices look like.

Before you start calling me a liar I have included some lab work you should see. My Medic owed me a couple of favors-.

Curious Engineer flipped to the next page. It looked like some sort of lab chart, "She included a paternity test." he said quietly.

"What?" the chart was yanked out of Engineers hands roughly. "How did she even…" Spy trailed off muttering profanity darkly under his breath.

The Texan sighed and went back to reading the letter.

- I expect you to take good care of her since she is your own flesh and blood. I will be back to collect her. Do not think you can dump her in an orphanage for your convenience. If you do, or if anything else happens to her be assured I will hunt you and every alias you ever used down and make you suffer. The same threat applies to your pudgy companion as well.

"Pudgy?" he repeated - rubbing the back of his neck.  

  "This has got to be a fake!" Spy fumed on, the floorboards creaking as he paced, "Where the hell would she even get a sample?"

Engineer sighed, half an hour ago he had been dozing on the couch, planning repairs to a tractor not worrying about some kid that got dumped on his doorstep. "Spook" he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Spook" he repeated again "Could'ya- Could'ya stop pacin' for a sec?"