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Not Your Classic Vigilante [Ch. 15]

Alternate Dimension AU TW: Language, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Slight Body Horror, Gore, Graphic Depictions of Monstrous Attacks, Gun Use, Weapon Use, Some Talks About Traumatic Incidents, CW: OC Use, See the OC Guide [Here] Genre: Drama, Action, Angst, Light Comedy Pairing: Batfamily & Batsis!Reader, OC x Reader YN Pronouns: Female (She/Her) Word Count: 11.3K

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Notes: FINALLY SHE'S OUTTTTTTT i'm so sorry for the long wait, loves, I just couldn't for the life of me be satisfied with it until now

Disclaimer: This series is originally by@fandom-meanderer who is a close friend of mine, but she has since fallen out of her Tumblr days and asked me to finish a few series for her, hence why I am now in ownership of the Not Your Classic Vigilante series, I hope I can still live up to her writing as I rewrite this series! (I promise not to change too much, hehe)

2005

Your hand was gripped tightly around your mother’s finger. She was one of a few people you’d ever met growing up and, for the longest time, she was the only one you needed. With you on her right hand and with a backpack filled with your things on her left, she knocked rang the doorbell. When there was no response, she rang it again and continued to do so until it finally opened. An older man stood at the door.

“Pardon me, madam, how may I… assist you?” He hesitates slightly. Your mother moves to the side and gently pulls you toward him and there was a spark of realization on his features.

“I need to talk to Bruce Wayne,” she says. The old man looks behind her before opening the door wider.

“Master Bruce will meet you soon,” the old man says after guiding you both to the foyer. Your mother helps you onto the couch before sitting next to you.

“Mom? Where are we? You tugged at her coat and she folds her hands over her lap.

“A safe place,” she says. You looked around.

“Are we moving here?” Your mother looks away for a moment.

“Yes,” she had a tone about her voice. She was lying. One of the first things she taught you was how to tell someone was lying, she always said it was important because of where you lived, and one of the things you had since noticed is that your mother lied alot, especially recently. You’d been noticing it more often now, she’d always look away from you when she lied and that was how you knew. The both of you have been moving around a lot, staying with different people and checking into different motels, it’s been awhile since you’d stayed somewhere longer than a few days. Every time you would move, your mother would say the same thing: “The monsters found us, we have to move before they get here.” And you, afraid of the monsters, would help her pack as quickly as you could and climb into a taxi next to her.

Your mother lied a lot. And nearly every time it was a lie, and only some times was it the truth. Even her being your mother was a lie. But she takes care of you, and if that didn’t make her your mother you didn’t know what did. You’re not supposed to know this. She only told you one night when you woke up after a nightmare and came to her. She was holding a glass filled with a deep red liquid, and she refused to look at you all night. She looked over at you, laughed, and told you that you looked just like your mother and “may she rest in peace.” You don’t think she knows she told you, so you kept quiet.

“What are our three rules, (Y/N)?” She asks. You look at your hands.

“Listen before entering, look in hiding spaces, and don’t overstay our welcome.”

“Very good.”

Before the conversation could continue, the older man returned.

“Master Bruce will see you in his study.”

“Alright, watch her, please,” Selina puts her hand on your shoulder and you hold onto her hand.

“You’re leaving me?” You looked up at her.

“I’ll be right back,” she rubs the top of your head, “where is it?”

“Up the stairs and five doors down.”

“Sure.” Your mother ascends the stairs, and you remained on the couch. The older man sits next to you.

“If I may, what’s your name?” He asks. You look at him and look away slowly.

“My mom says not to talk to strangers,” you muttered.

“A very good principle,” he says. “My name is Alfred.” You puffed your cheeks.

“(Y/N)… (Y/N) Kyle…” you answered.

“(Y/N), that’s a lovely name,” he says. He grabs a box from the table. “Do you like sweets, (Y/N)?” He opens the box and your eyes widen at the chocolates inside. You nodded your head and picked a chocolate, but you hesitated before eating it.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know if my mom will be happy if I eat this, mister,” you placed the chocolate back. “She says I shouldn’t eat things from other people…”

“Another good principle,” Alfred takes a chocolate and eats it. “As safe as it is delicious,” he says. With a small smile, you grab the chocolate again and eat it, tasting the sweetness all over your mouth and savoring it as long as you could.

“(Y/N)?” Your mother’s voice drew you away from the box. She descended the stairs and, next to her, was a man with a stern expression on his face. You folded your hands on your lap and looked down. Soon, the man crouched in front of you. “Introduce yourself to her first, she knows not to talk to strangers.”

“Hello, I’m Bruce Wayne,” he says. You squeeze your hands together and your mother sits next to you.

“(Y/N), my dear, this is your father,” your mother introduces you. “You’ve been asking to meet him, remember?” You nodded your head. The man looks at your mother for a brief moment before turning back to you. “Why don’t you say hello?” She asks. You’re silent for a moment.

“Where have you been?” You asked him. The man doesn’t answer.

“He’s been very busy, he couldn’t say hello until now,” she answers for him.

“Why?” You look at your mother.

“I… I’ll tell you when you’re older,” she says. You puffed your cheeks and frowned.

“You have to be nice to him, alright? You’ll be staying here from now on.”

“Just me?”

“Just you.”

“Where will you go?” You looked around.

“Back to the apartment, for now,” she says.

“I don’t want you to leave, though,” you frowned. Your mother sighs and Bruce looks at her.

“(Y/N), do you remember when we first started moving? When the monsters came into our home and destroyed your toys?” She asks. You nodded. “Then you understand why you have to stay here,” she says. You did, kind of.

“But what will I do if there’s a stranger in our bed again?” Though you whispered, it was understood by everyone in the room. That was terrifying, seeing someone you didn’t know just waiting in a place you thought was safe. Selina only shared a quick look with Bruce. “Or… what if I get sick from eating again?” You asked her. You felt terrible that day, nonstop throwing up, nothing was kept down, and you think it was the first time you’d seen your mother cry.

“(Y/N), it’s not safe for you to be with me, but here? You will always be safe,” she says. Tears welled up in your eyes. “Your father will keep you safer than I ever could,” she says.

“But… I don’t know these people,” you said between sniffles.

“You will soon, there’s no one you can trust more than these two,” she rubs your back gently and you wrap your arms around her.

“Even you?” You asked against her coat.

“Especially me,” she responds.

“You have to come visit, okay?”

“Of course,” she holds onto you securely.

“You can stay tonight,” the man says. “It’ll be better for (Y/N), I think,” he says. You held onto your mother tighter.

“… I can’t,” she says. And you turned to her, your expression filled with despair.

“You’re leaving me?” The person you had known your whole life, who took care of you, and who raised you… was leaving you.

“Just for now, (Y/N), you have to trust me, okay?” She stands up and you stood up too, holding onto her legs tighter than you ever have. “(Y/N), let go, have I ever lied to you?” Yes, so many times.

“No,” you lied back.

“It’s only temporary, (Y/N).”

“But… Mom!” Tears streamed down your face. She couldn’t leave you. She took a deep breath. “You can’t leave! I’m so scared!” Your voice pierced the stillness of the manor, and everyone stopped. “What if… what if there’s monsters, what if they get me?!” You hid your face in her thigh. She slowly pulled away from you just enough to crouch to your level.

“They won’t, dear, not here. It’s okay to be afraid,” she coos, “but you have to remember that there are people who will protect you.”

“That’s you, right?”

“Of course,” she sighs, “me, and your dad,” she says. Your glance narrowed at her, and you leaned into her ear to whisper.

“Is he really my dad?” Your voice was so quiet that it strained. You could feel your mother tense as she turned her head to look at you. You couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

“Yes, he is,” she says. “I never forget a face,” she quickly adds.

“Do you promise?”

“I swear it.” She wasn’t lying. She looks up at Bruce now. “There’s no one who will keep you safer than him,” she says while standing up. “Be good, (Y/N).” You didn’t look at her. “Take care of her, please.”

“We will see to it that young Miss Kyle is watched over,” Alfred responds. Your mother holds you to her one more time, wiping the tears from your face and pulling her scarf off, she folds it neatly and hands it to you, which you accept with shaking hands.

“We will see each other again, (Y/N),” she says. “You’re (Y/N) Wayne now, do you understand me?” You could only nod.

“Okay,” you shut your eyes and gripped the scarf. And when you opened them again, your mother was gone, and you were standing in a large room with a bed bigger than you’d ever seen and ceilings taller than you’d known. Your father was nowhere to be seen.

“Until we prepare a better room for you, this will have to do,” Alfred says. You looked around, then you approached the closet, opening it slowly and deeming it empty. The curtains were flushed to the wall and were safe, the desk was open enough for you to know that there would be no way for it to be an effective hiding spot, and that left one more place.

But you couldn’t check there.

“Mr. Alfred?”

“Just Alfred is fine, young miss.”

“Could you check under the bed for me?” Alfred only nodded before walking over to it and lifting the comforter. His head touches the ground, seemingly scanning the underside of the bed for a few moments before standing up again.

“No monsters.”

“Promise?”

“I swear it,” he nods and walks to the door. “Just call if you need anything.”

Then he’s gone too.

It’s cold in here.

2022

“So, what’s the verdict, Drake?” Marion looks over the clipboard Tim was writing on.

“It’s smarter than we thought,” Tim says, “it’s displayed critical thinking, problem solving, and memorization, all the three signifiers of high intelligence,” he looks at the daemon. It’s been two weeks since he and Jason had arrived and, while the progress on finding out how to return home has been slow, it’s been moving forward at the very least. Until then, the hardest part was integrating into this new society as if they’d always been apart of it to avoid suspicion.

Tim, at the very least, had a puzzle to keep him busy.

The daemon looked at him and huffed silently.

“You’re crazy, Drake,” Inigo says, “giving the thing a bath.”

“Sure, yeah, but I still have my head on and we can’t study it with spears in its back,” he shrugs. The beast seems to keep its eye on Tim while he circled it, though it made no moves. “How’s research on the tags?”

“Drawing no significant leads,” Marion sighs. “Nico, when does the Captain return?” Inigo huffs.

“Tomorrow, apparently,” he says, “I know she’s been losing her mind in bed.”

“She has tried to escape a few times,” Tim laughs.

“You would know, huh? She do that often when you were growing up together?” Marion asks.

“Oh plenty,” Tim laughs, “and I genuinely couldn’t tell if our dad knew or not, I mean, he had to! It’s not like she was slick about it, Jason and I always caught her,” he laughs.

“You two ever do anything about it?” Inigo asks.

“Nah, just helped her out,” Tim shrugs.

“Rebel kid turned soldier is a pipeline that should be studied,” Inigo shuts the lever as soon as the daemon was back in its cage. The sound of heavy locks moving into place echoed in the chamber.

“I’m going to go check on her, pretty sure she’s already tried to leave,” Tim hangs his lab coat over a chair and raises his hand and Marion dismisses him.

“Good work today, Drake, tell the Captain we said hello- Oh! And before I forget, hand this to her too,” she says while shoving a sealed box in his hands. “It’s fragile. Be careful with it and, I’m sure you know, Captain’s eyes only.” Tim nods and enters the elevator. He looks down at the box. It was wrapped various times in twine and nailed shut with the words ‘FRAGILE’ stamped on top of it. Sure, he trusted you, there must be some ground breaking item in here that would help with the monster outbreak, but he couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling at the back of his head. He turned the box slowly and looked at the label on the side.

Project βαV. Confidential. Tim’s brows furrow for a moment before taking a deep breath. He’s the one to talk, right? About secrets? He wonders what really went through your head those years ago. There were always things he just couldn’t tell you, things he’s always wanted to, but in the interest of your safety he always decided not to. Him and his siblings, they were always talking amongst themselves about things with the league or with Gotham’s underground and you were just there. If Cass wasn't there then no one would have taken the time to explain things to you.

Meanwhile, you laid in bed and stared at the clock next to you. Two weeks of bedrest, the audacity of these people. A lot can happen in two weeks and with you not active who knows what kind of emergencies have happened without you knowing. Sure, the Brigade kept you relatively up to date and you knew for a fact that Aldryn couldn’t keep a secret from you, but the anxiety that came from sitting still is one you weren’t comfortable with.

“This is so ridiculous,” you muttered.

“Almost as ridiculous as you not reattaching,” Carter laughs next to you. You looked under your hospital gown, still seeing the healing bite wound across your chest. At least it was still together, is your immediate thought. You sat up in bed and looked at the folder on the stand next to you.

“Think it’s anything I should be concerned about?” You ask while rifling through its contents. Field reports, updates on monitored areas, practical scores, all what you expected.

“Are you asking if you suddenly having a normal human body is concerning?”

“And it wasn’t before?”

“Well…” Carter shrugs. “What do you think, (Y/N)?”

“Hm,” you shake your head. “I’m just wondering why it’s failing now of all the times.”

“Think it might have something to do with Alex’s assignment?”

“Probably,” you muttered. “I never once considered distance to be a hinderance, or more accurately it’s never been an issue, but with him as acting Captain I should’ve taken it into account,” you muttered.

“And what does he have to do with your ability?” You both look up and see Damian at the doorway. You sighed.

“I had to tell you eventually,” you gestured for him to sit next to you and, once he did, you took another deep breath. “It was during a monster hunt dispatch. I had done plenty of them before, the three of us together were known as the best when it came down to it, but this one was different. It was a rank builder dispatch, if we completed the mission to its fullest extent then we’d get promoted. And everything went well until the monster we were hunting cornered us,” you started to explain.

“Real quick, everything was not well,” Carter cuts in. “I almost lost a leg.”

“This is isn’t about you,” you held a hand up, but your small smile contradicted your tone. “Either way I almost died again, but for whatever reason the royal family insisted I be kept alive. As a result of some forbidden magic, boom, reattachment with the side effect of telekinesis with one specific person,” you shrugged.

“That person being Alex, I assume,” Damian hums.

“Yeah, there’s nothing other than that, though. It’s related to some powerful magic thing that I guess Alex has been studying for some time now,” you tapped your finger against the bedding. “It’s been like this for, what, two years now?” You looked at Carter, who nodded.

“Give or take,” he shrugs.

“So that ability you told me about,” Damian starts the thought.

“Is different from my reattachment, yes,” you finished his thought, “but I don’t like using it.”

“Left her with a nasty nickname,” Carter says.

“I hate that shit, it pisses me off every time I hear it,” you rolled your eyes, and they settled on the door right as you heard a knock. “It’s open.”

“Hey, (Y/N),” Tim walks in with a paper bag in hand. “Carter, Damian,” he acknowledges the other two, “I got you lunch! To celebrate your freedom from a hospital room,” Tim hands it to you and you pulled out the burger.

“Finally, real food,” you could’ve praised Tim right then and there.

“You’re not really going to jump right back in, right?” Carter asks. “You just recovered.”

“I loathe to think about what I missed while in exile.”

“Oh, relax, you were on bedrest.”

“How’s the daemon, Tim? Any leads?” You switched the subject before you could get the migraine.

“Nothing conclusive, just theories,” Tim grabs another chair. “Marion says ‘hi’ by the way,” he says. You looked at Carter and Damian.

“There’s our cue, come on, Damian, I’ll walk with you,” Carter nudges his head toward the door and Damian groans and looks at you.

“Just go with him, Dami.”

“I can keep secrets, you know.”

“I know,” you gestured for him to follow Carter anyway and he huffed before closing the door behind him. After a short while, Tim spoke again.

“Are you 100% sure that they used to be humans, (Y/N)?”

“Positive. One of the ones we fought even spoke, Tim,” you said.

“Okay, okay, yeah, I tried crossreferencing some fur samples with the missing person’s data base here but nothing, no registered sample matches it,” Tim shakes his head. “So… I was thinking,” he pauses.

“Maybe he’s like us?” You whispered.

“Yeah, dropped off here after some traumatic event, but someone got to him first,” Tim leans on his knees now, head propped up by the palm of his hand.

“Let’s talk about it when Alex comes back. I sent him off to do some investigating on some movements we heard in the distant areas, so he’s been monitoring their movements for two weeks now,” you pushed the sheets down and opened the closet next to you before pulling out your uniform.

“Before I forget,” Tim hands you the box. “From Marion.” You looked at it for a moment before opening it. Inside was a smaller box, also wrapped twenty fold in twine. You said nothing while you packed it into your belt. You pulled out the small note inside of it.

You’re insane, Captain. Whatever you’re planning on using this on I hope you realize what it can do. And for god’s sake, don’t you dare use it on yourself. - Marion

You crumpled the note in your hand and tossed it in the trash.

“What is it, (Y/N)?” Tim asks.

“A last resort,” you shrugged. “I’ve been working on it for some time, I was hoping it would be a good pinch tactic if it came down to it, and with these monsters all over the place I’m starting to think it’s time I expidited its production,” you explained. “It’s nothing crazy, you don’t need to worry yourself about it.”

“If you say so, (Y/N),” Tim clears his throat. He didn’t believe you. But, then again, he wouldn’t exactly approve of what was against your hip right now anyway.

Your senior thesis project, you remembered enough of it to continue it here and perfect it, or make it as close to better as whatever crude version of it you had in Gotham. You and Marion were working on it together for almost a year now with various trials and errors, but if she’s giving you this one then this is the closest you’ll get for now.

“Let’s do some field work, Tim, grab Jason and Damian on the way. The Brigaders are spread out right now so I’m going to have to settle for the family trip.”

2006

“Dad?!” Your voice seemed to echo throughout the manor, bouncing on every which wall before you couldn’t hear it anymore. You’d been living at the manor for a few months now, slowly getting accustomed to the new environment while Alfred helped you anytime a camera would flash at your face. Slowly, bit by bit, you got more accustomed to the man your mother claimed was your father, you learned from him, about him, and through him. He was quiet, you noticed, didn’t smile often and didn’t tend to stick around the house for too long either. Most of your days was spent with Alfred, the butler, who often took you outside the manor and taught you a few things you’d have to know. Like the cameras. You hated those. They got in front of your face, blinded you with their lights, and deafened you with their shutters, but Alfred taught you a way to look through them. It was so simple that you were amazed when he told you.

Look straight at the person taking the picture. And suddenly the cameras weren’t scary anymore. The cameras that followed your father around, they never seemed to cease. He was so different from your mother who ducked out of sight and warned you about them, and that constant line of thoughts was always playing on repeat in your head.

You had already wandered the vast extent of it and you’d almost say that you knew it like the back of your hand, amazingly enough.

The only thing you didn’t know was where your dad went during the night, but Alfred always insisted he went to work. Life must be so hard for a CEO.

Alfred told you that you could be like that too someday, if you so wanted.

The manor was larger than you could ever dream of. Despite you having internally mapped the place, there always seemed to be something new if you had the energy to seek it out. But it seemed too big for three people, let alone you. Your echoing voice was just a reminder of the lack of… anyone, really.

Not to mention, it was always so cold. You shivered slightly, rubbing your arms up and down for warmth.

“Dad?” You called for him again and still, nothing. You wanted to ask him to turn the fire on, and you hadn’t seen Alfred all day. You peered over the railing, looking at the ground floor below. “Oh,” you spotted your scarf hanging on one of the light fixtures attached to the wall next to the railing. Perfect timing. Your mom gave it to you before she left your first night here, it was just a small thing of hers that she wanted you to keep, and you thought you’d lost it after tying it to the end of stick and playing baton with it. Looks like you just flung it over the edge at one point. You stood as close to the rail as you could, reaching your small arms through the poles to grab at the fabric, but each time you got closer to it it seemed to move further. You looked behind you, pulling the chair to the edge and climbing ontop of it. You held onto the rail with one hand and, with the other, you made a grab at the scarf, feeling it’s soft material in your hands. “Yes!” You grinned. Then you felt your hand slip down the rail. Then you were falling. Clutching onto the scarf in your hands like it would do something.

“(Y/N)!” Your dad’s voice was beneath you and in moments he caught you. “What were you doing up there?!” His voice was laced with concern. You held the scarf up and he let out a sigh of relief before shaking his head. “That was very dangerous, next time let me or Alfred know you need help,” he says, placing you down gently.

“Sorry, dad,” you looked at ground.

“It’s okay, you know now not to do that though, right?” He asks. You nodded. “Why were you doing something like that anyway?” He looks up, spotting your makeshift stool.

“I was cold,” you muttered. He sighs above you, then takes your scarf and wraps it around you, securing it well enough to stay on.

“That’s it?” You nodded. “In that case, I’ll turn the fireplace on for you,” he walks off and you followed close behind him, watching the backs of his heels to be sure you didn’t tread on them on accident, and finally you were in the office watching him throw logs into the fireplace.

You’d never seen a real one before, and the wood felt rough under your touch.

“Careful,” your father says. Your hands fly off the log and he tosses the last one in before throwing a match inside. You feel him hold your shoulder and push you behind him only slightly before you heard the crackle of fire. You watched it spark to life before engulfing the pile, and you found yourself flinching back at the suddeness of it. Then, near immediately, warmth. “Don’t stand too close to it, you might burn yourself.”

“Okay.”

“You can stay here as long as you want,” he says. You watched him walk back to his desk, his face growing stern as he read through whatever on his computer. You crossed your legs and sat on the ground, reaching toward the fire with open palms to feel it more. “Here, sit on this here, the ground’s cold. And if you need it I brought a blanket,” he left both items next to you. You didn’t even notice him leave, he didn’t make a single sound. You pulled the ottoman toward you and sat down on it instead while holding the blanket in your hands. It was soft to touch, softer than any motel bed you’d slept on, but not as soft as the scarf around you.

You didn’t want to get it dirty.

2022

“Captain Wayne?” Bruce’s eyebrow arched and the child nodded enthusiastically.

“Yessir! Our little village is usually one of the Brigade’s stops on their way to their campaigns. We’re lucky to even get a glimpse of the captain!” The child grins. “If you stick around long enough you’ll be able to catch a look too.” They ran off after that.

“Constantine,” Bruce called him over, but the man was too preoccupied on the phone to do say much.

“Liverpool! Where the hell are you, lad? You sent me the wrong bloody address!” He shouts. “You’ll be here? What in the blazes does that even mean? Fine, fine, I’ll hold you to it, but I don’t remember when you got so bold to make to teacher wait here.” Constantine hung up the phone and turned back around. “What?”

“What are the odds of running into different vesions of ourselves here?” Dick asks.

“Not impossible, I’ll give you that,” Constantine shrugs. “But pretty unlikely too,” he adds after. “Why?” Just then, a newspaper flies into Constantine’s face and when he peeled it off he quickly read the headline. “Oh…” he mutters and hands it over to the boys.

“In the wake of daemon attacks Captain Wayne says the Brigade has it handled during hospital stay,” Dick reads the opening sentence. “Doesn’t sound like they have it handled.”

“And that’s why I got called here, probably,” he shrugs.

“Constantine,” a new voice enters the conversation.

“Liverpool!” Constantine spreads his arms wide with an even wider grin. “Look at you, lad, Zee says hi, by the way.”

“She here?” Alex leans over to look behind him, but instead makes eye contact with Dick. “Oh no…”

“What?” Constantine looks behind him.

“Alex?!” Dick’s jaw was nearly on the floor.

“Long time no see, Mr. Wayne,” Alex greets Bruce first.

“Alexander,” Bruce clears his throat uncomfortably. Alex’s hand rests on his chest for a moment before he relaxes again.

“We have a bit of a monster problem,” Alex says quietly. “Let’s go somewhere private,” he nudges inside of one of the homes and the men follow him. “Take a seat anywhere, this is the Knighthood’s outpost,” he says.

“Little shabby,” Constantine wipes the dust off the table.

“Our treasurer got eaten by a daemon,” Alex saids chidingly. He tosses a circular device on the table and a hologram appears from it, displaying a monster they had never before seen. “This is just one variant of them, we have this one in captivity right now and it’s being studied. But it’s traits greatly differ from others we’ve encountered,” he says.

“And how many is that?” Bruce asks.

“Enough,”Alex grimaces. “We haven’t been able to track where they come from, they’ve been found all over the continent razing villages to the ground and taking out whole squadrons. At first we were able to keep it under wraps but recently it happened too close to the capital, now the media’s all over it,” Alex shakes his head.

“Shocking you kept these nightmares out of the public eye for so long,” Constantine mumbles while he leans forward to take a closer look. “Either way these things are new to me,” he says.

“You haven’t the slightest idea on what it is? Science is hardly working on this thing, I was so sure it was magic,” Alex continues.

“It would help me more if I saw it up close,” Constantine says.

“If my theory’s right then you will soon,” Alex says quietly. Constantine straightens.

“What do you mean by that?” He asks gravely. Alex changes the hologram.

“If this pattern of attacks is to be followed then this is the next village they’re going to attack,” he says quietly. Dick steps up.

“What’s the plan then?”

“Wait until the captain gets here,” Alex responds, “our elite squad is spread out right now, but they’re ready to respond to an emergency. Our captain is on the way right now so we’ll discuss it once enough people are here, but I’d say we have a night to prepare. Once I get the manpower I’ll start evacuations, I’ve already sent notice of it to the headwoman so everyone should be preparing now,” Alex reports, his hand over his heart before he beats on it a few times.

“And what should we do?” Constantine asks.

“Help? Watch? Whichever comes naturally,” Alex shrugs.

“Any briefing at all? Weak points? Strengths? Things to avoid?” Dick pressures him.

“Before, yeah, but the daemons have become so specialized that our original modus operandi doesn’t work anymore. It’s like they all mutated overnight,” Alex shakes his head. “This whole monster problem has gotten out of hand, and from the pressure coming from the royal family the entire knighthood is on a tight schedule, and we’re running out of manpower fast, I don’t think we can sustain things by blind fighting anymore, but our strategies are always upended when a new daemon comes in. Just two weeks ago we had one that controlled the weather, for christ’s sake, it almost ripped the captain in half when another daemon suddenly learned empathy and saved us all,” Alex holds a hand to his head now.

“So, you’re desperate,” Constantine says.

“Extremely,” Alex shakes his head. “Onto other matters, why the entourage?”

“I figured a little extra manpower couldn’t hurt,” Constantine shrugs. “Why?”

“Well…” Alex whistles, but is cut off by the sudden roar outside.

2008

You are awoken suddenly by the crash of glass on your floor, and the shock of it all was enough to make you scream. You held onto your blanket, clutching it tight within your hands as you crawled toward the edge of your bed, and in an instant you gasped.

And so did Dick.

“This isn’t my room,” he says between pants. You were quick to rush out of the safety of your covers and to his side. He was covered in bruises and shallow cuts, probably more from the glass than anything else, whatever happened to him. But… you could help. Your mom used to come home with bruises too, she’s walked you through how to help her and what to use, you just wondered if there were any in the manor. Or even Alfred, you could call him for help.

“What happened to you?! Who did this?! I can help you,” you brushed the glass off of him and winced when it cut your hand only slightly.

“Whoa! Careful there, (Y/N),” he takes your hands now, observing the cut.

“What about you?” You pulled your hands out of his grasp and reached over to him, but he caught your hands again instead.

“I’m fine, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he struggles to stand up and you tried to help him, but he got up himself. You drew your hands back, clasping them in front of you instead. “I’m sorry, (Y/N),” he says. You looked at him now.

“You’re… you’re Robin?” You asked him. You looked at your walls, crude drawings of the boy wonder littered it. You idolized him, Robin, the sidekick to the dark caped crusader all the boys at school raved about, and there you were, becoming a fan of the boy who helped him.

And here Dick was, someone you considered your older brother after two years of living together, beaten up and wearing the iconic insignia.

“It’s… it’s just a costume, (Y/N),” he says. You shook your head and stood up.

“You’re going to lie to me too?” You looked away from him. Everyone lied to you. And you thought at least he wouldn’t.

“I…” he rubs his arm, wincing slightly. “(Y/N), I’m so sorry,” he says. “I was just playing around with a few friends and we got out of hand, don’t tell Bruce, please.”

“Okay,” you shook your head again, grabbing your blanket that had fallen next to the bed and climbing back on top of it. Dick wiped his face of whatever dirt got on it and looked at you. You pulled your blanket up and over your head.

“I’m sorry.” He repeats. You should’ve known. And maybe a part of you did know. When you saw the videos of Robin doing amazing acrobatic feats, the very same Dick would show you, maybe you did know. And when you would tell Dick how much you liked Robin, when you’d show him the drawings, you wondered what he was thinking.

You wondered if your dad knew.

So here you were, eating breakfast with the both of them. Dick across from you, your dad at the head of the table, and you. It had been a few days since the incident, and neither your nor Dick brought it up. Now, though, you can hear him entering his room early in the morning, his room which was right next to yours, and now you check every morning if he was in there.

“So, (Y/N), I hear you have a test today,” Bruce breaks through the silence.

“Yeah,” you nodded, playing with your eggs.

“What’s it on?”

“Spelling,” you mumbled.

“You’re good at that.”

“I think so, yeah.”

“Is there something on your mind?” He asks, his eyes sliding to you. You looked up from your eggs and glanced at Dick before looking at him.

“Nope,” you shook your head and chugged down the rest of your milk. “I have to go to the bathroom.” You placed it on the table and folded your hands on your lap.

“You haven’t finished your breakfast.”

“I’m full.”

“(Y/N).”

“And I really need to pee.”

“Okay, go ahead, you’re excused,” he says. You rushed off before you could let the cat out of the bag. You’re lying to your dad, great. Not telling is also lying, your mother always said, but it had to be a little better than just… completely lying, right? Plus, you didn’t want Dick to get in trouble, how many times has he helped you out? You could help him out, even if you were a little mad at him. You hid behind the wall, wanting to catch any conversation they have. “Dick.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s good that the two of you get along well, but I hope you know she’s still my daughter,” Bruce says.

“I know.”

“So you understand that I know you two are hiding something, right?” He says. You held your breath and peeked over the wall, his back was still turned to you. “Which is fine, I suspected you two would eventually, as long as it doesn’t hurt her or interrupt that business, it’s fine,” he says. Dick nods, catching your glance only quickly before clearing his throat. Did he know too? Your dad? That Dick was Robin?

“It’s neither of those, sir, I promise,” he looks at the clock on the wall, “and we should probably get going to school too,” he says.

“You’re right, I’ll see you both at home later,” Bruce stands up first and Dick follows. You rushed to the foyer before your dad could catch you eavesdropping and you hauled your book bag up from the floor.

“Whoa, what do you have in there?” Dick walks up behind you and opens the door for you.

“So… many… books,” you threw it into the back seat of the car.

“For school?”

“For fun,” you sighed. You pulled one out and handed it to him.

“American Girl?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“Uh… sure, okay,” he shrugs. “Why don’t we keep them in here for now and you can just carry one,” he pulls the stack out of your bag except for one and you reached over and grabbed another.

“Just in case I finish that one,” you say.

“Fair enough,” he shrugs. The car slows to a start and Dick glances at the closed window that separated the two of you from the chauffer. “Thanks, by the way.”

“For?”

“For keeping my secret,” he says quietly.

“Yeah…”

“I’m sorry I lied to you, I just got scared,” he says.

“I know, I would’ve been scared too,” you nodded. You played with the handle on your bag. “But if you ever need help… just ask, okay?”

“I should be saying that to you,” he nudges your softly and you smiled.

“Just don’t get hurt too bad, okay? And… and you have to tell me the coolest stories,” your eyes shone.

“What? You still like Robin even though you know I’m him?” He scoffs.

“Are you kidding? I like him even more now!” You defended. “I always thought you were cool, but now you’re even cooler,” your voice was filled with awe.

“Yeah, yeah, you think everything I do is cool,” Dick laughs.

In the front, meanwhile, Bruce seemed to let out a sigh of relief, prompting Alfred to chuckle.

“God, I was so worried it was something worse,” he says.

“As I’ve told you before, Master Bruce, they’re as thick as thieves, those two,” Alfred says. “Although, you don’t think this will become a problem in the future?”

“What? Her knowing Dick’s Robin?”

“Precisely.”

“As long as she doesn’t get into danger,” he says, “there’s no harm from it.”

“But you worked so hard to separate her from the Batman, and here she is with a direct line to him now.”

“Dick knows what he’s doing,” Bruce sighs, “plus, maybe it’s safer for her to know.”

“And will you ever tell her?”

“Eventually, if she hasn’t figured it out already.”

“Do you think she will?”

“She’s a sharp girl. Selena raised her well.”

“I worry about what she had to go through before she came to us,” Alfred looks into the monitor near him, watching Dick tell a story with exaggerated hand movements and you being more engaged in it than he’s ever seen. “She looks happier now.”

“I hope she is,” Bruce doesn’t look up from his phone. Alfred steals a quick glance at it and spots the American Girl dolls on his screen. Alfred couldn’t stop the satisfied chuckle this time.

2022

“Oh we are so fucked,” Jason’s hands drop to his sides when he saw the fires.

“Shit… they’re earlier than we predicted,” you shot a quick text to the other Brigade members. “And we might have another issue on our hands too,” you watched the daemon freeze over the landscape.

“What, the mutants?” Tim shudders.

“No, them,” you nodded forward, spotting Dick electrocute a smaller daemon.

“Shit,” Damien grumbles.

“Shit,” Jason scoffs.

“What’s the plan, (Y/N)?” Tim asks.

“Uh… don’t die,” you shake your head, “and get any survivors out. I’ll rendezous with Alex first and figure out a better plan from there,” you drew your rapier and scanned the field. One, two, three… four of them.

“Captain?” Your earpiece crackled and you pressed down on it.

“Alex, give me a run down,” you watched your brothers each tackle a different daemon.

“One with ice, one normal one, two with super strength, and one with wings.”

“One with wings?” Your face contorted into one of confusion. Until something grabbed you and left you airborne.

“(Y/N)!” Jason called after you.

“Oh fuck,” you grabbed onto the daemon’s claws that dug into your shoulders. Your breathing quickened, the air growing thinner the higher up you got, and you swallowed your thoughts down and reverted to plain instinct. It roared above you and you pulled yourself up and onto its back, looping the rapier around it’s neck and locking it in place with your arm in an attempt to strangle the bird-like monster. Ignoring the stinging pain in your shoulders, the daemon flapped erratically until it took a nosedive, and you held your place as best you could with the wind blowing against you, all you could do was brace for impact. As soon as the bird hit the ground, the earth around it caved in, you felt the shock run through your bones and you felt the fragments inside of your body before they ultimately, painfully, reconnected to each other, and you stood up, dragging your rapier with you and smoothening down your hair. The bird twitched under you and you dug your sword into its heart, pulling the tag from its neck. CH-95. You staggered back, feeling the crunch in your bones and holding back the wince. You never get used to it.

“Just a second!” You held your hand out, catching your breath. This is wrong. Alex was practically right next to you, you should be reattaching with ease, but you weren’t. You were just surviving.

“(Y/N)? Jesus, fuck, holy shit,” Dick let out a string of curses while he helped you up, but he quickly slowed his movements as soon as he had felt the jelly that was your arm. “God, why the hell did Jason bring you here?” He muttered under his breath and you stopped.

“Excuse me?” You looked up at him and pulled your wrist from his grasp, standing up tall and closing your hand into a fist once it had finally finished mending together. You stretched out your fingers now, making sure the mobility was just right. “Like you know what’s going on,” you told him.

“(Y/N) you’re not trained for combat, this is dangerous, hell, one of them just grabbed you and launched you in the sky,” Dick shouts. “Get out before you get hurt,” he eyes your arm, a quick look of confusion danced over his features when he saw it balled into a fist once more.

“Did you not just see how I killed this thing?! What the hell do you think I’ve been doing for three years?! Don’t tell me you bought my bull shit story about that lab! Obviously I was making myself fucking useful!” You didn’t know why you felt the need to argue, now was not the best time to be doing this. “I should be asking you why you’re here!” Maybe it was because you felt like you had something to prove.

“I’m here to bring all of you back home!” Dick shouts. “And instead, somehow, Bruce and I get roped into this monster business and I definitely wasn’t expecting to see the four of you here,” he says. He looks over to the side, seeing Jason and Tim bring one of them down. “You especially, you’re a civilian, (Y/N), get somewhere safe,” he says. You took a deep breath. He wouldn’t know. He doesn’t know the shit you’ve been through, and you had to be fair towards him because of that. But god is he pissing you off, you didn’t even know how you tolerated this behavior before you died and you definitely don’t want to deal with his holier-than-thou-I’m-the-best-leader attitude now.

“I don’t have the time or the fucking patience to deal with you right now, Dick,” you shook your head.

“Captain!” Alex’s voice was loud and you tore your attention away from Dick who was rambling again about how you shouldn’t be here. Alex tosses you your rifle, something that probably fell from your figure when you were unceremoniously turned into an aircraft. One thing you learned quick, even before the transmigration, was how to tune out sounds you didn’t want to hear. So, just as easily as usual, you loaded the rifle and aimed it toward the daemon that Jason and Damian were struggling with and you took the shot. The bullet pierced through it’s head and the beast as stunned long enough for the two to finish it off.

“Thanks, (Y/N)!” Jason shot you a thumbs up and you rolled your eyes while slinging the rifle behind you. You turned back to Dick, no words were exchanged, but the silent conversation was enough for you to figure out what he was thinking. He was pissed. But so were you, so… where did that leave you?

“Got a plan, Lex?” You looked over to Alex.

“I’m going for the ice one, don’t think we can have the newer two on it,” Alex was already running off, joining Constantine in his struggle while Jason had pushed the remnants of a wall off of a few survivors.

“Move over!” You had turned back to Dick to settle the argument, but when you saw the daemon fast approaching you shoved him out of the way instead, and you very nearly got caught in its rampage by just a hair. You ran toward it now, you couldn’t let it run amok any longer with the possibility of heavy civilian casualties, but the stinging pain from your steps was making it hard to focus on anything other than that.

“Help!” The shrill voices of survivors always found a way to be louder than others, and you turned to them quickly, seeing the children hidden behind the broken wooden foundations. Could you even get to them on time in this state? Everyone else is too far to get to them.

And for god’s sake, don’t you dare use it on yourself. Marion’s note appeared in your head. But you’d always meant to use it on yourself, you just couldn’t find the right formula, you couldn’t nail the correct combination that wouldn’t end up with you combusting after taking it. Until now, you fed it to the test specimen and told Marion to keep a close eye on it and, after two months of controlled dosages, the specimen was still alive. But you understood why she was afraid, she was a woman of science and she knew that its boundaries shouldn’t be tested. But you’ve seen it work before, and you knew you could make it better. Hell, you have a degree in this. You have to put it to work at least once, right?

Fuck it. You ripped the package open and pulled out the green vial.

Tim, meanwhile, was the one in shock. βαV, that was the name written on that package, and seeing its effects put two and two together. Bane and Venom.

You never got over that, did you?

“(Y/N)!” He shouted out, not from the recognition, rather, the daemon that had appeared behind you. No time, you moved as far as you could from the monster as it crashed into the wall previously behind you, but it was enough for Tim to run over to you. “Is that-”

“Safe, probably,” you inverted it in your hand. “Safer if I take it than if anyone else did.

“You can’t!” Tim makes a move to take it and you unscrewed the lid, holding it close to your mouth while keeping your sights on him.

“Why not?” You eyed the monster stepping out of the broken building.

“You…” Why couldn’t you? Tim was at a loss. Everything he’s seen, everything he’s observed, pointed to you being the most reasonable choice to drink it especially in this situation. But it just didn’t sit right with him. He held you in this amazing regard, this near unattainable standard that never could’ve been realistic in any universe, one that not even you could uphold. “I never thought that you’d think like him,” Tim mutters. You didn’t answer, instead opting to drink the down quickly.

The world around you rang as you took heavy steps toward the daemon that had regained it’s footing, and as soon as it noticed you it charged with its maw near unhinged, and you caught the daemon’s open jaws between your hands, your hands that were traced with green veins that were clear even through the blur at the edges of your eyes. You took deep breaths, the world around your shifted in and out of focus as if echoing just like the sounds of the battlefield, and once your vision somewhat stabilized you pushed further and ripped the daemon’s jaw in half. You tossed it’s mandible to the side and used your foot to roll it over on its back and you pulled the tag off. DP-82. Your breaths only deepened and you felt your heart rate quicken, like your heart was going to burst out of your chest from the adrenaline. Your hands were shaking, or was that your vision shaking? You felt the venom run through your veins with a burning sensation, threatening to rip your skin open with each pump of your heart. This is insanity, you could barely form a coherent thought.

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to take this so suddenly. Or at least, not all of it.

“Shit…” your teeth grinded against each other and you held your head in your hands, trying to get past the searing headache. You could feel your own searing blood run down either side of your face, and whether that was from the daemon or from yourself it was unclear. Then you felt two hands over yours pull them away from your head, and you looked up.

“(Y/N), take deep breaths,” Bruce says. One hand goes to his belt and pulls out a small vial, and he places it in your hands. “Take it.”

“Not yet,” you shake your head, would it even work? Your vision focusing on the daemon who was sprinting toward the both of you. You pushed the vial in your pocket and you pushed him aside, taking heavy steps toward the daemon before slicing your rapier once it got close enough. And the wound it left was so deep it fell back and you climbed on top of it, stabbing the beast repeatedly and even breaking the tag that was on it. In two pieces it landed on the floor with a simple DT-82 engraved on it. That’s four down. You looked around and spotted the ice daemon cornered by Alex. Readjusting your grip on your rapier with a rotate of the hilt around your palm, you charged forward and stopped only when the daemon had the thought to protect it’s frontside with a slate of ice.

Intelligence? Tim had mentioned it but you were wary to believe him considering the data came from the outlier in the basement.

Either way, this one was going to be harder to get rid of. Such was clear when you held your rapier above you to block the blow, instead feeling your boots sinking into the ground. You pushed through and powered the daemon’s fist off of the blade and you surged forward, redirecting the rapier into a crack between the ice armor the monster adorned, and just as fast you were pushed back. You wiped the fluid from your lips and took heavy breaths.

“Hey, Captain,” Constantine caught wind of the situation easily, “try using that rifle of yours against the ice plate, I have an idea,” he says. You nodded, pulling your rifle forward again and aiming it at the intended spot, but your hands wobbled slightly with the dizzying effect that was controlling you. You squinted your eyes, doing your best to make sense of the monster that was now appearing double. Then, you felt your hands stabilize, and you realized that Alex was holding the rifle steady. You aimed it as best as you could and took the shot, the bullet landing on one side of the plate, then you took more successive rounds until it was seconds away from shattering. You could just barely make out the magic circle that appeared on top of it until it pushed into the daemon and left it screaming while it ripped off its own skin. “Now’s your chance!” He shouts. You grabbed your rapier and sprinted forward, the double vision coming back together as you got closer and, with a push of your hand, the daemon’s thrashing stilled until it was no more. You pulled on the tags around it’s neck: CS-03. You pulled the second vial from your pocket, the top had broken off but there was still a sufficient amount of liquid inside of it, enough to drink anyway. And slowly you regained your senses, and slowly you became more aware of the shouts around you, but they all mixed and garbled into one incoherent noise underneath the ringing.

“Thank you, Captain Wayne!” The townspeople, whoever was left, had arrived again, all expressing their thanks in some way and, as you had found out later, due to Damien and Dick’s due diligence the number of casualties were greatly reduced compared to the previous attacks.

“Are you alright, (Y/N)?” Alex’s voice rang in your head. “It’s a mess in here.”

“It’s a mess out there. What does my mind look like?”

“Fractured.” His voice was an echo.

“Can you fix it?”

“It’ll fix on its own. Give the antidote time to work.” You nodded your head absently while holding it with one hand. Dick was saying something to you, but you couldn’t hear him. Jason grabbed his shoulder and now it was clear they were arguing but their shouts were incoherent to you. Tim was talking to you now, waving his hands in front of you with his brows knit together while Damian was speaking to your father.

You looked at him.

Your father. Why was he here?

Surely, not for you.

He was looking at you too, walking over slowly and looking into your eyes with a discerning glance. You’d be able to read their lips if not for the blur and the shakiness.

“Get me to Marion.”

“Certainly. Eve’s just arrived.” Speaking of, the woman ran up to you, unceremoniously pushing the boys out of the way as her hands cupped your face and moved it around gently. He seemed to ask what had happened to you, the proximity making her voice somewhat clear. Her hand waves next to her and a portal opens up as she guides you into it and, once again, you found yourself in a hospital room.

“Now this is just bullshit.” You thought to yourself.

“How is it your thoughts are louder at a distance?” You looked down, your hand still over your heart.

“Fuck. Keep me updated on what they do.”

“Sleep well, Cap.”

“I’m killing that Doctor if he puts me on bedrest again.”

“I await the headline.”

“What were those two arguing about?” You said nothing while Eve sat you down on the bed, seemingly calling for help.

“Dick and Jason?”

“Were there others arguing?”

“Not… Necessarily. They were talking about you, of course. I don’t think Dick understands the whole situation yet, they’re explaining it to him now.”

“Great. Maybe I will sleep.”

“Can you blame him? The last you he knew was…”

“Weak?”

“Different.” You pulled your hand off of your chest just as the Doctor entered with Marion in tow. Marion hands you a vial and you drink it, ever so slowly the world quieted down and stabilized.

“How do you feel, (Y/N)?” Eve asks.

“Like I’m human again,” you shook your head.

“Are you fucking crazy?!” Marion shouts and your winced. “Did I not leave clear instructions to not use it on yourself? You’re insane, (Y/N), I don’t care if you can reattach, this is your basic biology we’re talking about now. If one calculation was off in our work you could have been like that forever, do you understand?”

“Of course, I understand, I fucking made it,” you grimaced. Marion frowns and slumps her shoulders.

“You talk to her, Dr. Bronte. She’ll listen to you,” Marion grumbles on her way out of the room.

“You know she’s just worried,” Dr. Bronte’s words were obscured by his mask.

Samuel Wyach Bronte was a strange man, brilliant, but strange. He sports a full face mask, a result of a chemical explosion that had occured years prior to your advancement into the role of Captain, leaving only the blue of his eyes clear. He was a tower of a man, standing straight with discipline and holding an air of composure around him. He had been your primary care physician since you started and will probably continue to do so as long as you continued to rip your body apart in combat. But his medical prowess is unmatched, he’s a leader in his field and has since garnered a strong legacy. There is no one more capable of treating your conditions than he is, at the very least.

“But this… this is reckless even for you,” he says, observing your arms. “You have burst blood vessels all along it,” he points at the small patches of red. “What exactly did you take?”

“It’s confidential, and a work in progress still, I wasn’t anticipating those side effects,” you looked at your blistering hands. “You’re not imprisoning me again, are you?”

“Well, that depends on your reattachment.”

“Eve, get Alex over here,” you muttered.

“Right away,” she waves her hand again and the portal opens wide, Alex looks over his shoulder.

“Oh, hello,” he says. Clearly, you just interrupted a conversation he was having with Dick and your dad. “Having trouble?” He asks. Dr. Bronte finds a way to sit up straighter upon seeing the crowd. Alex steps through the portal. “Until next time, Mr. Wayne,” Alex nods his head and Eve shuts the portal.

2014

When you found out that your dad was Batman, you were as over the moon as you were when you found out Dick was Robin. Your dad is a superhero, who wouldn’t be surprised at that? You had heard stories about how the caped crusader was unstoppable, how he kept Gotham safe from the night prowlers, and you were so proud of him, you were so proud to be his daughter.

But slowly you saw the toll it took on him. You saw the toll it took on you. On your brothers, on your sisters, and on this whole family. As you got older you realized the truth behind the mantle and the weight it carried.

But it was probably one event that truly spelled that out for you, the truth of what your dad did at night and its consequences. And when you came home that night, you had no idea there was someone else waiting there. Sure, there was the occasional photographer that somehow got past the front gate but, good god, never did they make it under your bed.

So when you walked into your room, ready for a night’s rest but not before sitting at the edge of your bed to type out a quick text to your then partner, you never could have expected a hand to tap at your ankle. When was the last time you were scared to look under there? Years ago. You jumped away quickly, your back pressed against the door while your shaking hands attempted to open it, and before the intruder had the chance to crawl out from under you had already begun your descent down the stairs, and then further into the cave. It was late, you knew that at least Alfred had to be down in the cave at the very least if not your dad, you never would’ve expected to see someone you’d only seen on the news.

Bane. He said nothing, you said nothing, the only difference now is that aside from your racing heart you felt your fear in your bones. He was terrifying, more so than you could’ve ever imagined even from the pictures and the case studies you had seen. The tubes filled with that dangerous green liquid drained into him quickly with every movement he made, and with every passing second it was clear to you that he was getting stronger. Then he took a step toward you, you took a step back, and this repeated until he was close enough to lunge at you. You were shaking. They were never supposed to get this close, they were never supposed to make it to the manor. This was supposed to be a safe place. What was he going to do to you? You thought back to the stranger under your bed. What would he have done to you? What was he going to do to your father now that he’s seen you? Your mind was in a frenzy and you stumbled, you fell frozen in fear, your legs that had taken you so far were rendered near useless. And this time even the batarang that flew at Bane’s head wasn’t enough to calm you.

“Go!” Your dad’s voice echoed. He was tired, you could tell. This was the first time you’d seen him in weeks after the entirety of Arkham broke out. You couldn’t move. “I said go! Call for help!” You stumbled to your feet, grabbing the comm while you ran out of the cave. Your hands were shaking, you couldn’t see clearly, but you pressed the first contact that was there.

“Bruce? What’s going on?” His voice, as always, was your beacon of hope.

“Dick!” You were out of breath, his name was the only thing that came out despite the jumble of words that plagued your mind.

“(Y/N)?” A new and more concerned tone was clear. “Why are you using the comm?”

“It’s dad, he… you need to come to the cave now!”

“I— What’s going on?”

“I… dammit,” the words weren’t forming. “Bane!” You finally shouted out. You were at the front gate of the manor now, it was as far as your mind could take you, whatever response Dick had said was unknown to you except that he hung up right after and you, still afraid, slid down the side of the column and onto the floor.

You ran. You ran. You should’ve stayed behind, you should’ve helped somehow, anyhow, you’re the daughter of the Batman, for Christ’s sake, why aren’t you doing anything other than holding your head between your hands and trying to control the fear? Would Dick even get there on time? Did your dad have everything handled?

“(Y/N)?” Tim’s voice was distant, and even though you knew he was in front of you, he seemed miles away. “Hey, come on, deep breaths, what happened?” He was trying to pull you back into reality. He grabbed onto your shoulder, squeezing it gently until you felt your breaths steady, and once you had come to your senses, Tim pushed you into the bushes, his hands over your mouth and one finger over his, then he looked over his shoulder. You stood in a tense silence, crouched behind the shrubs and unable to hear the reason why Tim had pushed you in here in the first place. Finally, he pulled you out of the hiding spot and, with no hesitation, you ran back to the cave with Tim close behind. Your mouth felt dry, the words still couldn’t come up while you stared at Dick and your dad.

You often tried not to think about how close death was to this family, very rarely did it take one of you, but never did it leave without leaving a mark.

If only you were stronger.

You thought about that for nights on end, you lost sleep over it even. Stronger, what did it mean? You weren’t an acrobat like Dick, you weren’t strong like Jason, and you weren’t smart like Tim. Everything you had ever owned was because your father had handed it to you. If only there was a snap solution to this, a quick way to become useful.

It had only crossed your mind once. Bane’s Venom, that is. Seeing it work inperson was grotesque, horrific actually.

But… maybe if you could…

You dismissed the thought.

Yet when you saw a vial of it in the cave once, many years after your father had healed and you had gotten older.

Well, how bad can it be?

You took it and took a quick look at it, just going over the basic chemistry of it all one day in your university’s lab long after hours, and it was fascinating. A drop of it had killed a mouse, yet Bane nearly overdoses on it every time he uses it and he’s fine.

If you could change it just enough to avoid the body horror, just enough to avoid the blind rage that came with it, you could very well have a type of a super soldier serum.

You could be stronger. You could help your family. You wouldn’t have to run all the time and get out of their way, you could be one of them, standing at their sides, a true member of what you have heard referred to as the Batfamily.

Then your father would have to acknowledge you.

…

Right?

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#dc #batman #batfamily #batfam #batsis #batsis fics #batfamily x batsis!reader #batfam x reader #batfamily scenarios #batfamily x reader #batsis!reader #batfam fics #batfamily fics #batfamily x batsis #batfam x batsis!reader #batfam x batsis #my writings #nycv

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cas-backwards-tie · 8 months

Text

Chapter Six: The Summer of a Lifetime

Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Heiress of Gotham | Previous Chapter

Summary: With things out of the way and perhaps a little more trust, maybe the reader will finally start to make some progress, and a few friends along the way.

Warnings: Spying, Being Spied On, Insects, Wet T-Shirts, Flirting,

Words: 3.6k

A/N: While this chapter may seem like it takes a lot of twists in turns in the vignettes, it's sort of meant to reflect the ups and downs and small moments we have during summer. Honestly, though, this is perfect for the introduction of certain characters and plotlines I wanted! القرف = ‘shit’

It'd been an interesting end to the school year, really, and that's aside from the fact that you'd had to deal with and go through the grief of your Mother passing. Within the few months you'd been at Wayne Manor, the family had quickly learned many things about you. Bruce had found out how frugal and tenacious you are, insistent on selling some of your old articles of clothing for money on some app he could never remember the name of, meanwhile refuting the many attempts he'd offered to take you out shopping. Who wants to go shopping with their Dad anyway? He'd been consumed with work, and therefore more time had been turned over to your brothers.

While school was out for both you and Damian, Tim had decided to take summer classes at the nearby community college since it'd make his college applications only look better. Dick, of course, was still working, and Jason, really, you had no idea what was going on with him since it seemed he had most days free and nights taken. While you'd considered the possibility that someone associated with the Wayne family had a night-time job, you also didn't want to think of someone who very quickly became a big brother to you in that manner. That was just... ew. With the three eldest gone or rarely home, you'd been left with Damian and Alfred mostly.

--------

“So… you’re spying on your own child because…?” Tim draws out, leaning against the motherboard as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Because it’s Bruce? You’re not the first. Thought you would’ve been the wiser, Green Bean,” Dick chides as he manually stitches another loop into his uniform. Seated on the edge of the metal table propped against the railing on the other side of the platform.

“She’s been watching television for over two hours straight. Is this unhealthy?” The man of the hour speaks, eyes unmoving from the image of you through the lens of one of his pesky drones.

“Hey, you’re the one who’s supposed to be parenting, yeah? You chose to bring her on, you choose what’s healthy and unhealthy,” the elder boy retorts, a clear sass in his tone that reminds Bruce where Damian’s gotten it from.

“Hn,” the old man groans, “That doesn’t mean I know what’s standard in teenagedom as of currently,” he grumbles more to himself than anyone.

“Have you tried, I don’t know, just talking to her?” Tim asks, an eyebrow quirking as he doesn’t try and hide the amused smile breaking across his lips.

“You’re one to talk,” Bruce teases the boy. He’s still somewhat resentful of the way he’d handled things with Stephanie a few years ago now.

A huff of annoyance leaves Tim and he rolls his eyes. Pushing off the computer, he turns to head for the stairs when he spots movement on the monitor. Dick doesn’t seem to care, rather, he’s focused on fixing and upgrading his equipment. However, Tim watches from just a few feet behind the old man’s chair. His drone follows you as you get up, bringing an empty dish and glass to the kitchen. You don’t notice, of course, as Tim knows this has to be one of the nano drones, most likely, disguised as a fly following your movements through the Manor just a few hundred feet above them.

It’s uninteresting, really, the way he watches you put your empty dish in the sink along with your glass. Your visage shifts, heading back to the living room, but doesn’t fail to notice the nano drone. “Spotted,” Tim announces, curious to see where this goes.

“That doesn’t mean anything. Most people aren’t fazed by an insect,” Bruce defends, finally taking his gaze off the screen for a mere moment as he turns to Tim. The boy watches as you step closer to the drone; the still fly on the fridge’s handle was easy to spot, and while your eyes quickly move on in an attempt to seem as if you hadn’t noticed the bug, not wanting to disrupt it or scare it away, you step closer to the fridge.

On top of the box lies an item you’ve been grateful for ever since you’d gotten your Mom to buy it offline. Easily stepping on your tiptoes you grab the object’s handle and have your finger ready atop the trigger. Now all that’s left is to catch it off-guard.

The amused look on Tim’s face makes Bruce paranoid; blue eyes racing back to the monitor, he watches as a tennis-racket swatter comes his way. Lifting the nanodrone up and off the surface he barely escapes the touch of the electric swatter. Bzzt! He’s hit. Flying across the kitchen and landing on the counter, he turns the drone around to get you in frame again. “And you thought she wouldn’t do anything,” Tim laughs. An error message pops up, screen turning red along with the artificial voice alert. Clearly you’ve damaged the drone.

“It only took twenty-five percent capacity,” Bruce announced, clicking different keys to get everything back to neutral.

This elicits Dick’s eyes as his focus shifts up to the situation before him. An amused smile graces his lips and he can’t help but sometimes pity the man. Bruce… tries. He means well, but he doesn’t always have the best approach. “Gotta say, this is better than reality tv.” His Father shakes his head and, attention returning to the monitor again after being distracted by Tim.

“You risked a drone for this? Come on, man. This is your own daughter we’re talking about,” Tim chastises, even if he’s still laughing and more than amused by this. If he wants to waste his tech, by all means, let them watch. It’s not like he can’t get more.

The men watch as you look around the kitchen, eyes taking everything in. With an occasional turn, and a flip of your hair, he’s spotted again! This time Bruce sees you coming before he can be squashed. Out of sight, out of mind, he thinks. “Honestly, I’m just lucky she didn’t spot me earlier. Ace and Titus weren’t the most helpful considering they kept tracking my movements, clueing her in. But she didn’t get me until now.”

“I’m impressed she even got you at all, honestly,” Dick comments, drawing their attention again.

“Not a fan?” Tim asks, curious to hear his thoughts. After all, he hasn’t been around as much considering things have been busy with school, and hectic with Stephanie… therefore, he doesn’t know as much about you. He hasn’t spent as much time around you as the others.

Met with a noncommittal noise, Tim watches Dick shrug. “I’ve got nothing against her aside from what she said at her dinner and obviously her hate for the BPD,” he trails off, a shudder running through him, “then again, she was kind of insane when we were moving her stuff. Threatened to kill us and all. Not really the type of vibe you wanna have running around the house, you know? At least, not mine, I’ll tell you that.” With a chuckle, Dick lifts the needle to his mouth, teeth going for the fabric since he hadn’t bothered to grab scissors.

Tim almost laughs along with his brother, that is until he processes what he’d said. “Wait, what-?!” Eyes quickly darting between him and Bruce, he’s suddenly alert. “What do you mean she tried to kill you?! What’re you talking about? Hey- why didn’t you tell me this?” He zeroes in on Bruce, determined to get an answer. “Does Damian know? Why am I the last one to find out about anything around here?” He complains.

“I mean she tried to-“ Dick begins.

“She did not! Dick, stop exa-“ Bruce interrupts.

“Bruce-“ Tim interjects, eyes suddenly on your approaching visage in the drone’s visual. “Bruce!” You’ve got the fly cornered, with one swift sweeping wack, and a press of the button, it’ll die.

“What?!” He yells. As soon as he turns from Tim to the monitor he’s too late. Zzztt!!! They all grimace and wince. An alert pops up on screen:

‘V I S U A L L O S T’

The options to ‘connect to different device’ or ‘relay input’ lie underneath the big text, but ultimately you’d destroyed the thing. With the click of a button Bruce closes the tab and the background of the Manor’s security camera feeds linger. Alfred dances in the office as he dusts along, presumably, to music—Bruce knows his routine. On another, you’re carrying the nanodrone on the electric swatter to the trash, disposing of the ‘fly’ you’d killed. Lastly, Damian is reading, doing his homework as he sits in an armchair by the fireplace in the Library, Titus curled up by his feet.

“Dammit! This is why you can’t just be in here. You’re either here for a purpose or you’re out,” Bruce dictates. “Dick is actually doing something, Tim. You’re just gossiping.” With a defeated drop of his hands to the desk, he raises himself from his computer chair and rounds Tim.

“You still didn’t tell me what happened,” Tim argues, the anger in his voice no longer hiding. “I’m tired of being out of the loop! What happened?” he demands. A sigh weighs Bruce’s shoulders down, and as Dick finally takes in the men before him, he doesn’t dare to add any more flame to the already burning fire.

“She was involved with Marin. Alright? She thought he was coming for her, momentarily figured we were in on it. Satisfied?” Bruce responds, turning to face the boy.

They all know he’s been hurt. That he has trauma… it’s no secret. Yet, it’s only in few and far between moments that the boys are able to see things for what they are in a crystal-clear view. This is one of those times. Their warped views on good and evil, right and wrong, revenge and punishment… they blur the lines of reality in ways he’s sure that you, a civilian, would never understand, and yet… Tim realizes the weight of this.

“Who-?”

“Angel Marin. Bludhaven’s biggest mob boss,” Dick informs. A ‘Hn’ leaves Bruce’s lips as he makes his way toward the stairs, and a sigh leaves Tim. With a grateful nod in Grayson’s direction, Tim follows after Bruce.

------

“You know, someone mentioned your birthday is coming up,” Bruce teases, a hint of a smile hiding behind his wine glass.

The quick flash of a smile overtakes your face before you try to hide it. None of them miss it. “Um… yeah. W-who said?”

It’s invisible, perhaps, to all besides those who know him best, however, Bruce pales at the question, faltering. While you’re good at reading people, you don’t notice. Whether it’s the subject matter or the way everyone’s staring, you simply wait for a response.

“Uh, the-“ he clears his throat, eyes suddenly downcast as he reaches for his knife and fork to cut his steak, “the social worker! Yes, she mentioned it while you were in your meeting.” Obviously a lie. If anyone truly knows Bruce the way most at the table do, they'd know he found it in your files and footprint.

“Oh,” you respond, putting on a fake smile as you too attempt to hide behind the meal. Birthdays can be a big deal for some, and others, not. It all depends, and you aren't sure where things lie in this family. You still feel like an outsider, despite their attempts, and you don't want to burden them further.

“We could have a party!” Damian suggests, to everyone’s surprise.

“You just want a party,” Jason comments with a chortle.

“Is there anything you want?” Dick asks, looking down at you from your side, putting you on the spot. His kind blue eyes stir something within you, and you turn your gaze back to your plate. Busying yourself by cracking your knuckles, your lips purse into a line. With a shake of your head, it’s clear no one is sated.

“There’s nothing you want? At all?” Bruce prods, eliciting your eye contact again. Lips pursing even more you shake your head again.

“Um,” eyes falling to your lap you collect yourself, not allowing your imagination to run wild. “You taking me in was enough. Thank you.” Voice quiet, everyone has their own reaction to your words, albeit unbeknownst to you.

“Oh, shut up! You know there’s at least one thing you want,” Jason teases from across the table.

“Oh? And what’s that since you know her so well?” Tim pries, knowing he’s setting his brother up. Jason hesitates, almost choking on his drink which elicits laughs from the boys, and an amused smile from Bruce. As bickering starts to ensue, you decide.

“I-“ all eyes turn to you, “I want a party!” You announce. With a confident smile, you figure, how bad could it be? After all, parties don't need to be big! Something sweet, the family there, and a boardgame is all you'd need for it to be considered a party to you.

“See? At least I know what she wants,” Damian chides proudly.

“Oh? Well what kind of party would you like?” Bruce asks.

“Who do you want to invite?” Dick inquires.

“What’s the theme?” Jason adds.

“Actually, isn’t your birthday coming up now that I think of it?” Tim voices his concern over to Jason.

“Uh…” Jason shakes his head a little, taken aback, “I mean, I don’t really celebrate anymore since-“

“-the same day as Alfred’s, that’s right,” Bruce saves them, an unfazed smile on his lips, “though I believe we can celebrate both, can’t we?” While you’re not exactly paying attention, to the rest of them there’s a silent, yet menacing request behind his eyes. It’s clear they’re not allowed to speak freely anymore, no matter your new seat at the table of their family.

“Okay, but mine comes first- or did you forget again?” Damian asks with a bite. Upon the silence, he rolls his eyes and goes back to his meal with the exasperated sound of his breath hitting his tongue against his teeth. An audible ‘Tt’ sound.

“I didn’t forget, Damian,” Bruce clenches his jaw and grips his glass a little tighter. Does every family dinner have to turn into a fight? “You know I was with the-“ he catches himself, “Hn- that I had to-“

“-business calls… we’re well aware, Father. Perhaps you’ll do yourself a favor and won’t miss your other child’s birthday,” Damian finishes the conversation. “Not that I count on it.”

--------

Walking through the pool room, you’re focused on texting Daisha, intent on telling her the good news!

‘Omg you’ll never guess what just happened! I’ll ha-‘

Splash!

A dissatisfied exclamation escapes your lips as you stare at the wet stain on your shirt. “Really?! Dam-“ looking up from your drenched navy tank top, your eyes widen and lips part.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I thought you were Damian.”

You quickly take in the super-soaker and the boy’s apologetic expression, and it’s easy enough to put two and two together. As footsteps quietly click against the tiled floors of the locker rooms leading toward the pool deck, you grab the boy’s hand and drag him back the way he’d come around the corner. There lies a linen closet between the pool, laundry room, and stairwell. With a swift hand, you open the door and shove him in, following after as you quietly shut the door.

A bemused smile appears on his lips as his eyebrows furrow. “You’re his sister,” he whispers with certainty, “I’m Billy.”

Whispering back your name, he repeats it. Visibly eager on saying something else, you place your fingers on his lips to shut him up. He follows your eyesight, both of you staring through the slats in the closet door. With a keen ear, he gets the gist and remains quiet. As moments pass, you can feel the boy staring; curious, you meet his gaze only to find him searching your eyes. You can’t help but notice how pretty his are. Though you almost get swept up in admiring his features, you hear a faint creak only meters away; with a motion of your other hand, you beckon him to hand you the gun.

Transferred into your open hand, you slowly remove your fingers from his lips, cupping the barrel of the super-soaker while the other wraps around the handle, fingers ready at the trigger. With a head nod toward the door, you mouth the words: ‘On three! Ready?’

Billy seems to understand, as he holds his hands up in a ready stance to push open the doors. Together, you both mouth the countdown (which is really a count up, but anyway): ‘One… Two…’

“THREE!” Busting out of the closet, Damian is just a few feet from your right. It’s easy to spin and shoot as you’d been prepared, having watched him walk past the door together. Your brother had jumped, yet shot a few instinctive rounds of water, splashing both you, Billy, and the wall.

“القرف! What the hell! What are you doing here? Who let you play?” Damian curses, holding his gun in a stationary position once you’ve all recovered from the attack. His suspicious green eyes narrow as they dart between the two of you.

“I figured it was only fair since you didn’t let me know about your little game and I got caught in the crossfire,” you reason, pointing to your shirt with the gun.

“I accidentally shot her thinking I had you cornered, so…” Billy’s words die on his tongue. Without sparing the kid a glance, you shove the super-soaker back in his hands before offering him a grateful smile. At least you’d hit Damian once, you figure. With that, you’re more than happy to abandon the boys to their games as you walk toward the laundry room to see if your clothes are finished drying.

“You didn’t tell me she was my age!” You head Billy yell before a series of exclamations and curses follow with the sound of splashing water and rapidly receding footsteps.

--------

As stupid as it was to find your thoughts continuing to drift back toward a certain brown hair, green-eyed boy, you couldn’t help it. Though you’ve grown more tolerable of one another over the past few months, you still can’t believe that one of Damian’s friends is who’s on your mind. Nevertheless, fate would seem to have an amusing time linking the two of you together, constantly running into the other.

You suppose it isn’t strange after all, especially when considering he is one of Damian’s friends… however, you find him over the at Manor more and more often after the initial first time he’d quite literally bumped into you.

--------

“Grab me a juice box? I forgot one too—“ Damian’s voice echoes throughout the theatre as Billy yells back an affirmative answer and heads back toward the kitchen.

“Oh, hey-" You greet, backing up as a familiar figure exits the home theatre.

“Hey- what’s up?” Billy asks, a friendly smile gracing his lips.

"Was just gonna get a snack before we start," you tell him, "Guess we're headed the same way then," you tease. Walking down the hallway and up the stairs to the kitchen, you're aware of your brother's friend just a few steps behind.

“Are you gonna watch with us?” Billy asks hopefully.

“I mean, if that’s okay, yeah, I was planning on it." You respond, not thinking about it too much. After all, you want this popcorn to be good, not a burned pile of charcoal.

“Oh, I didn’t mea-“ Billy goes to correct himself.

“It’s fine. I’ll be down in a minute, I’m just making my own popcorn because the boys would eat it all otherwise,” you joke. Surely since he's friends with Damian he knows what the guys are like.

“That’s smart- that way you don’t have to share and keep passing it back and forth the whole time.” Billy adds on.

“Yeah. Do you want some? I can make another little packet,” You offer.

“Sure! I can do it though, you don’t have t-“ He argues.

“-I don’t mind! I've gotta wait for it anyway and grab some bowls. So I'll see you down there!" With that reassurance, Billy offers you one last smile before taking the juice boxes downstairs.

The older boys and your Father had insisted you pick the movie considering it's your first movie night with the family, and while most of them had been dreading what genre you'd pick, everyone ended up excited to watch a classic comedy most of them hadn't seen in years. Snuggled up under the fluffy blankets with your popcorn and the laughs of your brothers all around, you couldn't help but enjoy the fun.

--------

Most of the summer felt like it was spent in your room. Whether it was trying to explore the things that truly make you happy, or being lonely in a place that still feels entirely all too unfamiliar despite the fact that it's been a couple months.

The material things did help at first, the new environment, the little gifts your Father and brothers would treat you to, like those little Squishmallows you'd always seen and wanted at the store, but never bought yourself. They were more expensive than you'd ever thought to casually pay. Nevertheless, you've started to make your room truly your own. With decorating, personalizing, and getting into your own sort of routine, it seems that everyone has been slowly becoming used to this new lifestyle.

Alfred insisted that as summer begins to come to a close, you all decide on either making time for a vacation, or perhaps you and Damian get involved in extra curriculars. In the sake of preparation for school, you'd taken up driving lessons as you'll soon be old enough to begin the process of obtaining your permit. Then there was also the announcements from the school you'll be attending in the fall; with sports and clubs gearing up for homecoming, tryouts were coming up. Your Father had insisted that Damian consider a sport this year, and Alfred equally has been trying to push you in any sort of direction that'll lead to getting you out of the house and your room.

Needless to say, he wouldn't let go of the idea that your mental health could use less isolation and more friends, hobbies, and pursuance of your 'passions' even if you're not entirely sure what those are yet. It didn't take long for you to succumb to your butler (essentially) grandpa's badgering. Though you have a plan in mind for what sport you'll be trying out for, you haven't revealed them to the family. The way they seem to share everything is... still new, and somewhat unsettling to you.

~~~~~~~~

forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic ,@moonlightsolo

hog taglist: @luvly-writer , @clairese1980 , @theroyalmanatee ,@azazel-nyx , @nightrose-18 , @vanessa-boo , @ih4temy5elfs0b4d , @agent-nobody-knows , @scarlett13 , @hoeinthehouse , @huhhuhh , @maxinehufflepuffprincess

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flying-nightwing · 1 month

Text

Moonlight by the Docks (And They Say Romance is Dead) - Slade Wilson

Hi. It's been a while. But guess fucking what babes, I'm pulling all the stops to be forgiven. It's been more than a YEAR in the making, and mark my word it probably won't happen again so take it all in, but here is the Deathstroke smut a LOT of you have been wanting. Y'all, this is the long awaited sequel to Tango à Deux. Please forgive me?

(it's technically a sequel but can be read as a standalone if you accept that batsis and Slade already know each other)

Also, enjoy!

Pairing: Slade Wilson x Nightshade!Batsis

Word count: 4721

Warnings: violence, death/killing unnamed NPC, porn with plot, dirty talk (lots of it), unprotected sex, p in v, batsis and deathstroke fighting for dominance (NO classic dom/sub dynamics bc that's a pass for me), more dirty talk, body fluid, kinky shit, creampie, biting, rubbing, rough sex, reference to voyeurism, major praise kink, everything is extremely consenting and willing by both ADULT parties, might have missed something but I think if you made it this far you're into it.

Have fun ;)

“Nightshade, status”

You barely heard Batman's hushed check in as you barrelled into a boarded up window, breaking the moulding wood with your shoulders and rolling out of the building as bullets rained over you. You wasted no time getting back on your feet, starting to sprint away from the semi automatic rifles rapid firing in your direction.

“Nightshade, status?”

“JUST A MINUTE” You yelled as you dived behind a large container, flinching at the sound of the bullets hitting the metal and ringing loud into your head. “Fucking fuck shit”

“What's going on?” Batman's voice grew agitated despite remaining a low hiss. “Talk to me Nightshade”

“Wrong fucking intel!” You replied as you jumped on your feet again, taking advantage of the opportunity window their reloading gave you to run across the dockyard to find better cover. “It's happening now! There's at least twenty guys here, all trained and armed to the teeth. And they're all on my ass right now”

What was supposed to be a simple recon mission with a possibility of stealth takedown op turned into a giant mess at the first opportunity. The second you slipped into the warehouse, you quickly realized that the three guards on shift that you had been briefed about was, in fact, a small militia that was ready to be deployed on some combat mission, or that's what you believed was being said before you got made.

You would have also liked to know in advance that the building was littered with state of the art tripwires, movement detectors and heat sensors. Alas, you had gone in believing it was just a normal warehouse, and you had realized a moment too late you had triggered pretty much every alarm on the upper floor and very much alerted the militia of your presence.

“Tell me your position, I'm coming”

Your eyes went to the containers around you, taking as much information as you could without slowing down. Going into the maze of old containers was a great idea until you had to describe your surroundings. “I'm westbound, but those crates all look the same, B”

“On my way”

You ducked as much as you could to make yourself smaller as the symphony of bullets bouncing on the metal caught up to you. You took a hard left, trying to remember which way was more likely to not end up with a dead end, then went to your right. You could hear them shout, not giving up the chase, but you still tempted a look over your shoulder. They weren't on you yet. You faced forward and picked up some speed, rounding the corner towards the darkest and narrowest path to the left.

Before your eyes could even adjust to the shadows cast by the containers, your feet lifted off the ground and a large gloved hand was slapped tight on your mouth. On instinct, you began trashing to get away before your back was pulled flush against a hard armoured chest with a strong arm locking your waist against it.

“Quiet, little bird”

The militia paused at the crossroad, then after a string of barked orders, turned right. At the same time, your brain took in the orange and dark grey of the armour around you and pieced it with that voice you couldn’t mistake for anyone else's. You stopped struggling, yet, he didn’t release you. His hand was still firmly cupping your jaw while you could feel his other arm flex around your waist.

He tsked as the echoes of the yells grew more distant. “Once again getting in my way. What will I do with you now?”

You replied something, but it was muffled by his glove. You reached up and pulled his hand down, but he still let it linger on your neck once your mouth was free. You felt a bit weak in the knees and cursed yourself for getting turned on so easily, and even more for your next words. “Hopefully finish what you started last time if you’re not a coward”

Oh, that was so not the thing to say right now. You felt his hand around your neck tighten enough to be noticeable, but still loose enough for you to weigh your next words carefully. The yells once again grew closer, telling you the militia found a dead end and were backtracking towards your position.

“Do you really want to do this right now?” His voice was so close to your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. As much as pouncing on him right there and then was generating divine images in your brain, you were still being hunted down by an enemy who’d be on you much sooner than later. And well, if you died riding Deathstroke, Bruce would bring you back to life just to kill you himself, his own code be damned.

“As much as I wanna say yes,” You breathed back. “This bunch of angry men want me dead, so I believe the smart thing would be to deal with them first”

He released you. “Alright then. I’ll be here”

Your feet were fully back on the ground and you turned around to face him. Wow. You had been so right in your assumption that his other suit–namely, the one he was currently wearing–would be hotter on him. Even in the dark, he looked positively glorious and mighty delicious in all that armour, and with a small armoury worth of weapons strapped all over his, big, strong, menacing body–

You forced yourself to calm your thoughts down. “A little help would be appreciated”

“Why?” You couldn’t see his face, but you just knew it was full of smug arrogance. “I’ve got my own mission here. Who says they're part of it?”

You glanced in the direction of the ever growing noise, then back to him. “C'mon, I'm literally about to have sex with you, the least you could do is make sure I'm alive for it”

He sighed loudly. “I suppose you make a compelling point”

The militia rounded the corner and spotted you as Slade stepped between their fire and you. In one swift movement, he pulled out his sword and twirled it in his hand, as if provoking the armed men in front of him. For a moment, he just stood there, shielding you from the onslaught of bullets suddenly incoming your way. They all bounced on the front of Slade’s armour, painting him off as some kind of god of war, and you couldn’t help but gawk at the sight. You were so caught onto just how hot he looked that you almost didn’t register him springing into action and starting to cut through the group.

You reached for your karambit blades in your thigh straps and followed him in, making sure not to stray too far from his shadow to keep your cover from the fire.

You waited for the reload to duck under his arm, sliding on your knees in a spin and slicing the tendons of two men. That sent them straight into the path of Slade's swords, adding to the bloodshed. You swiftly returned behind him as another round of bullet was fired, but by the sound alone, the number of gunmen was plummeting.

The next reload came and you once again stepped away from him as he brought his two swords down onto some poor son of a bitch. You noticed a knife coming down and aiming for the small opening between his suit and his mask, so you sprung into action.

Literally.

You used his propped up knee to propel yourself up and jump onto the guys' shoulders, gripping onto him by squeezing your thighs around his skull. He tried to get you off of him by spinning and thrashing like a mechanical bull, but you held on tight. He was getting desperate to throw you off as pressure grew around his head, lifting his knife in the air to stab your leg. You were faster however, reacting on instinct and plunging your karambits into his neck.

He began sputtering as he tried to claw at his throat, blood squirting out of his artery and onto your suit. He dropped down to his knees and you got off, only then noticing he had been the last one standing. Key word, had been. He fell down on the floor in a puddle of his own blood as you observed him. Then, you felt like you were being watched intensely.

You trailed your gaze up to see Slade on his feet and unmoving among the carnage he had mostly caused. You couldn't help the thoughts that flashed into your mind, or the way your body reacted to it. You closed your eyes and let out a sigh, wondering what the hell was wrong with you.

Because somehow, you found it fucking hot.

And the fact that he did all of that just to get a taste of you? Yeah that did it. You completely switched your brain off as your feet took determined steps to him, quickly closing the distance to him and paying no mind to the bodies littering the floor. The second you were in front of him, you ripped his mask off and kissed him hard.

And he was ready for you. Without a single after thought of hesitation, his gloved hand yanked your hood back and cupped your neck, dragging you back in the shadows with him.

Just like the first time you sneaked out in a quiet place to make out, his lips were rough and insistent on yours. His hands were busy mapping your body, gripping your hips tight as he pushed you back onto the metal of the container. Like a reflex, his fingers seeked your back for a zipper, but found none. He kept searching for the proper way to undo your suit, until he pulled back with a glare of frustration.

You rolled your eyes. “I'll take care of mine, take care of yours”

Of course it was hard to figure out, it was made as such. But telling him that would only push him to try and get it and you weren't nearly patient enough right now to nurse his ego.

In practiced motions, you undid your belt and unclasped several buckles that held the top part of your suit to the bottom. You barely had the time to pop off the button of the waistband that you were pushed once again on the cold metal, a much larger hand quickly replacing yours.

Your pants were quickly undone and his hand slid down your stomach, reaching their destination with haste. You gasped as his calloused fingers began working on your clit, rubbing it in circles at a pace that was both tortuously slow and absolutely fantastic. His free hand slapped on your mouth just as you let out a moan that would have definitely bounced around the whole shipyard.

He tsked. “As much as I would like to hear you, I'd rather not get interrupted by another armed militia. You'd agree, wouldn't you?”

Your breath shuddered and you nodded. Still, his hand didn't go away.

He gave you a smug smirk. “I'll keep it there just in case”

You didn't even think about arguing, instead, you squeezed his forearm to encourage him to keep going. His fingers expertly worked you, alternating between pressure and friction and making your eyes roll back into your skull. Your hips followed his movements, chasing more friction from the fabric of his glove. You were greedy for him, for his hands, for his body. All you wanted to do is take, take and take, and luckily for you, he seemed more than happy to give it all to you and more.

“That's it little bird, fly for me”

His hand moved just right with his words, and you couldn't do anything else to obey his command. You let go and came harder than you had in years, your vision going completely white for a second. Good thing his hand was muffling your voice, otherwise you were sure the whole city would have heard your scream bouncing from the dock.

When he was certain your whimpers had quieted to an acceptable level, he took off his hand from your mouth and caressed the side of your head. “I think I like you like this” He hummed. “Being a good girl for me”

You were already half coherent from your orgasm, but him calling you a good girl like this, even if it was most likely condescending, was definitely getting you worked up for round two. “Fuck, if this is what you give me every time, I'll be whatever you want”

Oh yeah, you were NOT thinking with your brain at the moment.

And the groan coming from him did not help calm down your heartbeat. And judging by how his entire body flexed along, you could only figure out those words of your equally turned him on, creating a feedback loop that threatened to keep you here with him until well past sunrise.

Like a man starved, he shoved you back into the wall with his whole body, pinning your naked hips with his. You took in a sharp breath when his hard cock rubbed against your sensitive clit, spreading your orgasm all over his pants. Before you can make any more noises, his lips were on yours, reclaiming back with interest his dues from the previous ride. The grinding of his hips against yours drove you delirious and made you forget everything that wasn't about him right now.

He reached between his body and yours and pulled out his cock, letting it bounce on his chest piece and stand proud, already glistening with precum. Just like the rest of him, he was huge. Good thing you had a whole waterpark going down there, otherwise he would never have fitted. He snaked his arms around your thighs and put his hands on your ass, then hoisted you up like you weighed nothing more than a feather.

“Not one drop on this suit” You warned breathlessly as he lined himself with you.

“What, no more ruining your clothes?” He raised a teasing eyebrow.

“That dress was worth pocket change compared to this” You replied, eyelids half open as you forced the moment of clarity. “Buying me a new one would have you file for bankruptcy”

“Fine, no stain whatsoever” He drawled out, leaning into your space once again and ghosting his lips on your ear. “Will you be my good girl and take it all inside then?”

The spell you had broken returned tenfold over you as your knees buckled. It took you several seconds to find your voice and prepare an answer that wouldn't be an embarrassingly loud moan. “If I say yes, will you get going?”

The pressure from his tip at your entrance alone made you whimper in absolute delight. This is what had been peeking more and more often in your naughty dreams ever since you met, and more often than not they ended with your hand doing what you now knew was a mediocre impression of his.

Slowly, he lowered you into him until you couldn't go further down. You were so full of him it was literally impossible to think about anything other than the pressure between your legs and the massive cock impaling you. That too, had been greatly underestimated by your imagination. Nothing would have done the real thing justice. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him just a little bit deeper, and it took all of his restraint not to start fucking you like an animal after that.

“Fuck little bird,” He said, his voice low and rough. You hadn't started moving yet, but a quick squeeze around him made him let out a low grunt that you would definitely replay in your head later on. “You always take ‘em that easy?”

“I think that's only you,” Feeling bold at how much he tried to act tough about it, you decided to return the favour. You snaked your arms around his neck and pulled yourself closer, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses up until you reached his ear. “Maybe your little bird has just been dreaming about getting railed by the big bad wolf one night too many to give him any resistance”

He switched his hands from your ass to your waist and pushed you back roughly on the wall. The angle changed and stars flashed in your vision for a moment.

“Why don't you tell me about those dreams?” His words were demands and he started moving inside of you, hips thrusting forward in a tortuously slow movement. Yet, it made your body sing along, meeting him halfway.

“It always starts with you dragging me off to a dark secluded place after I said some shit to get you hard” You smiled as he kept hitting the right spot. Your focus on his questing was a lifeline you gripped with all you had not to just become some fucked out doll for him. You intended to make him work a little more before getting to this point.

He gave you a particular hard thrust that made you gasp for air. “Keep going on, little bird” He grunted in your ear.

“And then– Fuck” You threw your head back on the wall. He wasted no time claiming your open neck, grazing his teeth on the skin. “No marks either”

You could practically feel him rolling his eyes, but he backed off with the teeth and kept going on with his lips. “And then what?”

“And then we rile each other up properly” You smirked as you threaded your hand in his hair and gripped hard. The low reverberating moan that came out of him combined with the very obvious twitching of his dick inside of you nearly made you finish right here and there. “Your head between my legs, taking good care of me…”

His thrusts definitely picked up speed as your words hit their mark. He did nip your neck at the moment, but it was light enough that you let it fly.

“Then when you show that you know how to warm me up, I'd get down on my knees–” That made his hips jut forward and hit a deep spot in you that made you moan like a whore. “Maybe– Maybe even let you fuck my face if your tongue made me cum hard enough–”

“Fuck, who knew Gotham's little princess had such a dirty mouth on her, huh?” He straightened up and returned his glove to your oversensitive clit, brushing it hard enough to catch your voice in your throat. “What would everybody think if they saw you so eager to be my good little fuck toy?”

That would be a proper scandal indeed.

“I don't care what they'd think” You managed to mumble. It was getting harder to keep your mind sharp now that he had begun rubbing you again. “They can even watch, as long as they don't interrupt”

You should have kept your damn mouth shut, you realized seconds later. You had obviously called irony upon yourself just by speaking the words.

“Nightshade?”

It was like you were suddenly doused with a bucket of ice water. You grew rigid as your earpiece came to life with probably the last voice you wanted to hear right now. Your eyes slowly widened as you remembered that your father was on his way to be your backup. And him walking in on you and Slade wouldn't be as low key as it had been with your brothers. There would be bloodshed.

Slade obviously noticed your change of attitude and paused his thrusts. You dreadfully raised your hand to your comm and double tapped it to turn on the mic.

“B?”

It took a few seconds for Slade to understand what was going on, and the shit eating grin he gave you told you he definitely wouldn't make the next step easy. With his good eye never leaving your face, he began thrusting again, challenging your murderous glare.

“I got delayed by another armed group in the shipyard,” He explained. “I’m on my way now. Where are you?”

You thanked whatever divine intervention that put obstacles on his way, because you had totally forgotten about him once you had caught sight of Slade. You were in an uncomfortable situation, but not as much as if he had walked on you. You took a moment to come up with a good enough excuse to keep him away just a little bit longer for you to get out of this mess. In the meanwhile, Slade still kept at it, obviously trying to make you slip. “Um, I–” You coughed to hide a gasp as he hit you deep.

‘Fuck you’ you mouthed to Slade, which he replied in the same fashion, ‘Already am’. That fucker.

“Nightshade, what’s going on?”

You could have killed him right there if he hadn’t been doing it so right.

“Nightshade?”

“Yep, uh,” You took a deep breath and got a hold of yourself. Batman was getting impatient and you had to start being credible. You made a show of coughing exaggeratedly before speaking your next words, your eyes never leaving Slade's. “Just got sucker punched. It's fine though, it just took me by surprise. T'was nothing but a weak shot”

Slade’s smug expression faltered just a little, and you gave him your own version of the shit eating grin he was no longer giving you.

“Ok, where are you now?”

“I've backtracked and now Northbound, but I’ve got it under control” You took the opportunity of your previous lie to breathe deeply and counter some of the absolutely not family-friendly noises that were threatening to come out of your mouth instead of words. “But I’m not the only one here–” Deep breath. “I was being chased, and then I wasn’t. Only a couple of guys kept my trail… Somebody is picking out targets here. I think it would be smarter to fall back on the meetup point and recon”

“... Are you sure?”

“Positive” The word came out short and dry. “I think they might have done the same”

“Alright, I’ll reroute”

“I’ll catch up to you” You managed to say without tripping. “Nightshade out”

You made sure your comm was definitely off before hitting Slade on the chest. He only let out a quiet chuckle at what most likely felt like a breeze to him. “Asshole”

He leaned forward and rested his whole forearm on the container behind you, then thrust up. The new angle had you rolling your eyes in your skull, seeing black and orange stars in the blur of your vision. “Gotta make you pay somehow for all that work you made me do”

“As if you haven’t enjoyed it– oh”

He resumed his pace from before the untimely interruption, effectively cutting off your train of thoughts. “Now little bird, I believe you have somewhere else to be. Such a shame I don't have time to make you beg for it”

“Mhhfp, fine” You muttered as your arms went back around his neck. “Just because you have been quite compliant with my demands–”

He seemed confused for a second, until you pulled yourself up and nuzzled against his neck, letting out your prettiest little moans every time his hips hit yours. With your voice low enough just for him to hear, you gave him what he wanted.

“Please Slade, I need it” The out of rhythm thrusts and the low grunt that you felt through his chest told you everything you needed to know. “I need your cum inside of me, fuck your cum into your good girl”

He slapped a hand on the wall behind you and wrapped his other arm around your waist, moving you faster up and down with his own thrusts forward. He grunted louder and louder in your ear, getting closer to his release. You had no idea if it was the begging or his reaction to it that turned you on, but you were getting pretty close as well.

“Fuck, little bird” His voice was rough and low, and you couldn't help the nip to his throat instead of something louder. “I'll ruin you– I'll fucking ruin you”

“Please ruin me” You whined, feeling the familiar crescendo of your orgasm build. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, please, I'm so close, please don't stop”

“C'mon, be a good girl and cum for me”

He drove you into the wall with his hips and the friction of his belt on your clit drove you to the edge. You had expected it, but holy shit, your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your walls clenched around him hard and you pulled him deeper into you with your legs, holding onto him with everything you got. Your vision fully went white and your teeth bit into his neck like they had a mind of their own.

After a string of swears, he completely lost his rhythm and stilled, his hips sputtering forward and spilling inside of you with a low moan that almost got you ready for another round.

You didn't move for a moment, focusing on catching your breath. Your eyes were half closed, glazed over, watching sweat pearl over Slade's exposed skin and your bite mark slowly disappearing on his neck.

“Something interesting about my neck, miss Nightshade?”

A genuine smile curved up your lips at his comment; the same he had made all those weeks ago when you were waltzing around the dance floor. “Just admiring the view, that's all” You signed, content. “Why, are you afraid I will bite it off?”

He shook his head, looking up at the sky in a failed attempt to appear annoyed that you also remembered exactly what you replied.

“Huh, I guess you were into it after all” You mumbled as you slowly let yourself slide off of him and fell back on your feet.

He took a good look at the mess he had made, seeming satisfied at how your knees slightly buckled as you hit the ground. Without a word, he pulled himself back in his trousers and readjusted his belt.

You then started to pull back on your suit, the rough material now sitting uncomfortably on your sweaty skin. “That's gonna be a bitch to clean…” You thought aloud, realizing tonight's run was far from over and the many body fluids would have time to nicely settle in the fabric.

“You said not a drop on the outside” Slade commented, then pointed at the clearly not soiled outside layer of the suit. “And none there is”

You couldn't help but laugh as your eyes subconsciously went to his own suit, where the glistening on his thigh guards extended to darker spots on his trousers. Anybody catching a glimpse of it would know exactly what caused the wet spot, and nobody would mistake it for him soiling himself. “Can't say the same for you”

He looked down, then frowned in what you could only describe as a cartoonish way. “Hm. This is upsetting. Whatever will I do”

Both of your eyebrows shot up as you let out a short laugh of disbelief. “What that… a joke?”

He only gave you a stern look that didn’t quite reach his good eye as he put back his mask on.

“Oh, he has a sense of humour now? Who would have known” Despite your half dizzy state, your brain still found enough drive to tease him about it. Considering he was rearranging your guts minutes ago, you believed it was now fair game.

He pointed a warning finger at you after he finished making sure everything was strapped correctly on his armour. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood”

You rolled your eyes as you flipped back your hood on. “Yeah I fucking bet. ‘Can say thank you Nightshade about it”

As expected, he elected not to comment on that. He only turned around and looked over his shoulder. “Until next time, little bird”

You did gratuitously check out his ass as he walked away, then prepared a damn good reason to give Batman to explain your dishevelled state.

#slade wilson x f!reader #slade wilson x batsis!reader #slade wilson x reader #deathstroke x reader #deathstroke x f!reader #deathstroke x batsis!reader #dc fic #dc writing #dcu #DCU fic

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secretsandwriting · 1 year

Text

The New Wayne *Discontinued*

Preview

When Bruce's kids are gone for a mission predicted to last 3 years, Bruce can't deal with (Temporary) manor empty of kids so he of course adopts again and starts training them as the new Batgirl, of course the day the adoption is finalized the mission is completed and his other kids are coming back home.

Masterlist -- Next

Forever Taglist:

@butterfly-skinnylegend @fuzzycloudsz @truly-dionysus @ornebiglia @ironspiderstark @harleyq127 @goingwiththewind @mirdy47707 @batlover1303 @marbles-posts @ophelia-t-starks @theshippinglion @spoonful-of-sugar8 @cecedrake2217 @writing-mlm @y0u-should-be-scared-of-me @dreams0304 @caffineandanime @miniarchangel @hadesnewpersephone @marvel--unsolved @cipheress-to-k-pop @greek-meth-ology @humaneleanor @a-daydreamers-day @babybatjason @walkingdiaryforhumanity @watch-out-idiot @cloudie-skay @vintagexparker @screennamealreadyused @malfoys-demigod @caswinchester2000 @ladythugs @unadulteratedlyunique @romanceandsarcasm @battlenix @am3l1a-24

Series taglist

@marvelwasmadeforthebis

#Dc Smau #The New Wayne #Dc social media au #Bruce wayne #selina kyle #dick grayson #Jason todd #tim drake #Duke thomas #damian wayne #Barbara gordon #Stephanie Brown #cassandra cain #batsis!reader #batfam x reader #fem reader #ry writes

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visionofhope04 · 1 year

Note

the reader also being a Pop-Star(I called the band The Gang(based it off the show “The Boys”)) AND a Vigilante at the same time. Here are some of MY personally headcanons:

- When she’s on tour, she does hero work wherever she goes.

- Her entire band knows, and are chill with it.

- She has a suped-up van like Captain America’s old mobile base.

- people connect the dots of Y/N and her Vigilante Alias and all come down to one conclusion: The Vigilante is obsessed with her band (Reader:…are these guys serious?)

If this is too much, that’s ok.

One Love, Missnght.

I. LOVE. THIS.

---

her band is super supportive

like “yeah go kick their asses!! wooooo!”

people begin to notice that whenever her band is on tour in the area her vigilante persona pops up there as well

50% of people think her vigilante alias is obsessed with her but the other 50% think they’re dating

why wouldn’t a vigilante want to date a famous gorgeous singer???

her van would def be all black and go insanely fast and be armed asf

she is rich after all

at concerts, people try to see if her vigilante persona is in the crowd

ofc they’re disappointed but they never lose hope

reader gets so many questions about her vigilante self it's insane

“Do you know (insert vigilante name) personally?” is the most asked question and the most googled question

reader usually answers with something vague that makes people have more questions

"What do you mean by personally?"

"????" the person is now very confused and does not know what else to say, effectively getting reader out of the situation

her band members find this hilarious

they def use this against her all the time

"you can't mash pineapple and apple together and shape it into a pen to make a pineapple pen! it doesn't even write!" "well you can search up (readers name) x (vigilante alias) and find fics, oh and you can stop being so ominous when people ask you questions about it ." "WHAT?!"

yeah people ship reader and her vigilante persona

her band finds this hilarious too

she doesn't share the sentiment

people ship it to the point where they make merch and sell it on ebay

it was readers birthday once and her band threw a surprise party that was her vigilante alias themed and they all wore merch of her and even got those birthday hats with her vigilante self on it

EVEN THE CAKE

reader did not know how to feel about this (she secretly liked it bc it meant they cared)

when shes injured her band members patch her up

they watched tutorials on yt once they found out abt her vigilante activities

they kind of suck but she's grateful and will never tell them that to their faces

she appreciates the effort

#batfam x reader #batfamily x batsis #batfamily x reader #batfam x neglected!batsis!reader #batsis!reader #batfam x batsis #batsis x batfamily #batsis x batfam #batsis imagines #batsis #these tags have made me write batsis a lot and now the word looks so weird to me

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thatnonbinaryass · 2 years

Text

Friendly Alarm

A/N: This was inspired by a convo on Discord involving @pigeon-scratches when should have probably been asleep. Characters are not mine, they belong to DC Comics and their respective creators. I just own this story.

I do not consent to my works being posted or translated to other sites.

Count: 271 words, just a small drabble.

Pairing: (Platonic) Batboys x Sister!Reader she/her pronouns used, no bodily description, no use of y/n

Warnings: talk of medication for mental health. Not edited, this was finished at 2 a.m. after a very sudden burst of inspiration.

They had been on patrol when the text came through. The casual yet concerning “I might have just realized I’ve forgotten to take my meds for like two months.” Jason had let out a long sigh at his adoptive sister, while Dick looked very concerned. Which prompted their current plan. While she cleaned to go to bed, they climbed through her bedroom window for her phone. Moving back outside they recorded their voices reminder her to take her meds. Dick had tried to make it nice, a gentle reminder. Jason had different plans, yelling at her to ‘take your meds bitch.’ It was out of love, and they knew she’d know that. Some of her worst shit they’ve seen, stood by her in her worst times. They slipped back inside, placing her phone in its original place, ensuring everything is as it was. At the sound of the shower turning off, they scrambled towards the fire escape. They watched carefully as she emerged from the small bathroom. No reaction. Leaving when Barbara alerted to a nearby crime.

So, the next morning as she’s getting ready to go to work, she’s startled to have Jason yelling with a hint of Dick. It works. Grabbing a glass from the kitchen she takes her meds, with a small smile. Grateful for her brothers. Grabbing her phone, she sends a text to the group chat: “thanks guys.” With a deep breath she leaves her apartment, determined to have a good day.

Awoken by Haley, Dick rolls to check his phone. He soft smile spreads at the message, glad she’d appreciated the reminder. Jason remained asleep.

#batsis #fanfiiction #dc fanfiction #fanfic #my work #my writing #dick grayson #jason todd #nightwing #red hood #jason todd imagine #dick grayson imagine #batboys #sister!reader

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emumu-mun-does-shit · 5 months

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If I'm to accept this, As all in my head. If I'm to believe, I wouldn't, in fact, Be better off dead.

I would have to be of some consequence, I would have to contribute, I would have to mean anything, To anyone at all.

If I remove myself, from the complex equation, Of the lives of everyone else. All of a sudden, that equation is easier to solve.

I am a burden to bear, I am certain to stare, At the ground and life, Like deer to headlights. Until the car of death, Sends me on my ungraceful trip.

#batsy writes shit

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scarecrowismybabygirl · 2 years

Text

Jonathan Crane my beloved.

Cillian for Numero Homme 44, badly photoshopped by yours truly. Photographed by Simon Watson, hair by Gareth Bromell, and Styling by Jean Michel Clerc.

#I shamelessly photoshopped glasses on him #cause I need more Scarecrow content #everyone's favorite babygirl #he's waiting for batsy to come back home #it's date night and he's late #writing down on his hand how late he is #he's gonna make him pay for this for sure #hell hath no fury like a rogue scorned #jonathan crane #scarecrow #cillian murphy #nolanverse #nolancrane #gotham rogues

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e-nonsense · 5 months

Note

Ok so I absolutely love your batsis stories. But may I ask of you to make one where Batsis smuggles a baby capybara into the manor?

Like in the dead of night brings it home and the 1st person to figure it out is technically Ace then Damian?

If not, that's fine.

pairing. Batfamily x batsis!reader

summary. Reader smuggles (and fails) her new pet into the manner.

warnings. swearing, jason Todd. NOT PROOFREAD

authors notes. i feel like I’m known for my batsis works and thank youuuu i genuinely enjoy writing batsis. capybara’s are lowkey kinda cute. How did I forget to post this?

wc. 0.?k

You shrieked nearly silently as you tried to hush Ace’s barks and growls at the fuzzy small animals in your arms. You shuffle as silently as possible, as it was an hour past midnight. Ace’s growling was making hard though.

The animal in your arms was fast asleep thankfully, you ran up the stairs, skipping steps as you went up. You made it to your room quickly, shutting the door just as soon as Ace made it in as well.

Your room was neat, the back wall was a bookshelf, filled to the brim with not your books but Jason’s. As your older brother spent most of his time brooding in your room.

You dimmed the lights so it wasn’t too bright for the animal in your arms, Ace growled at it again before jumping onto your bed claiming his spot on the comfortable mattress.

A knock on your door startled you, “ukhti?” His title for you in Arabic came through the door. “Are you awake?”

Swearing under your breath you placed the baby capybara on your bed, hiding it behind a pillow. Ace growled again and you glared at him, the brave dog looked down and pretended to sleep in response.

Creaking your bedroom door open and looking down at your little brother’s tan face, “hi Dami. What can I do for you?”

“Ace was barking,” he murmured, half asleep. Tonight was one of the few nights he stayed back from patrol.

“Oh, yeah he was just..” you shrugged, huffing at the unamused look on the boys face. “No use lying to you huh,” you snorted, stepping aside for him to enter.

“But you gotta keep it a secret,” he raises a brow but nods in agreement.

“Okay.”

You moved to your bed lifting the pillow to reveal the sleeping baby capybara. You grinned sheepishly as you stroked its fur.

“We are keeping it,” Damian nodded. “No matter what Father and Pennyworth say.”

You raised a brow in amusement before agreeing.

The two of you spent the next hour and a half fighting over names for the capybara before deciding to get a second opinion when Jason stormed in swearing at Bruce.

He froze and stared at you and Damian. “What the fuck is that?” He pointed to the capybara. He didn’t like the look you and Damian shared, now he was sat on your bed, a book open in front of him.

“This is bullshit,” he huffed boredly, eyes scanning over the words on the page. The position he was sat in comfortable, you and Damian had fallen asleep on him and now he was stuck between the two of you.

A week had passed since that night and the three of you hid the capybara — “Jason Jr” you had decided much to Damian’s disappointment — hidden from Bruce. Your other siblings pitching in after they found out.

One morning you were all sitting at the dinning table, a rare occurrence considering your family. The room was quiet while Bruce eyed you and Damian.

“So. Either of you want to explain this?” He asks, pointing at Alfred, who’s carrying your capybara.

You and Damian share a glance before you offer Bruce a sheepish smile. “It’s a long story?”

“We have time,” Bruce says leaning back in his seat.

There was no story, truthfully you just saw it and thought it was cute, but that didn’t stop you from fabricating a lie.

#I put zero effort into this #I’m sorry #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #batsis reader #batsis x batfam #enzo writes [📝]

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coupleoffanfics · 1 year

Text

Random things about y/n and Jeremiah cuz I can and I will. Also no one can stop me.

First Post — Second Post — Third Post

When y/n and Jeremiah start dating, he doesn't want it public. He doesn't want anyone knowing about it except for the few people they're both close to. And y/n was understanding.

y/n believed that the media would stick their nose into their relationship and do nothing except stress them out. Having people judge not only you, but your spouse wasn't going to help a new relationship.

The last thing y/n thought was that Jeremiah didn't want any extra attention because he was hiding from his twin brother. It wasn't an everyday thing, but we'll get to that point later.

Out of the two, y/n is the most affectionate. Calling him goofy pet names, kissing his cheek, and complimenting him on everything. She just wants to show how much he means to her. She'd also want to show him off to others because she's so proud that she managed to reel him in, but can't since they're supposed to be private.

One time her best friend asked what she even saw in him and she turned to them with a lovestruck smile, "He's got that nerd charisma." Her friend just rolled her eyes and thought to themselves, ‘He put all his points into intelligence and is still a dumbass.’

Months later Jeremiah realizes that his whole plan is not going to work. The whole point of dating y/n was because she was Bruce Wayne's daughter. By dating her he was thinking it was going to be easier to zip through the ranks and get paid big bucks. It wasn't really going to work because Bruce didn't give too much of a shit about y/n. And he'll give even less of a shit about her boyfriend.

After that revelation, Jeremiah planned to gently break things off with y/n. Maybe say that he wasn't ready for a relationship or something along the lines of that. He knew how she practically took his words as gospel and wouldn't go after him once broken up with since she'd blame herself for it. Far too caring to be malicious.

Just as he was getting ready for the big day to break things off, he stopped everything. His mind flooded with those little moments. Those were little moments to him, but not for her.

The day he asked her after their tutoring session and how flustered she got. Stumbling and tumbling with her words while she tried to hide a goofy smile.

The day she gave him a peck on the cheek before saying a quick I love you. Then running away, giggling herself. Not noticing how red his face was or how fast his heart was beating.

The day she baked him cheesecake for his birthday. Somehow remembering the one he mentioned that was his favorite and that he wasn't a fan of sweet things. The deep admiration forming within him went completely unnoticed.

As his mind flooded, y/n sat on the park bench worried. Grabbing his hand and slightly squeezing brought him back to reality. Suddenly this fine sunny day didn't look too bright for him.

When she asked if he was okay. The only thing that came out was, "I'm sorry." He didn't want to say that, it just flew out of his mouth. Everything just flew out of his mouth. His plans, the whole reason he even bothered with her.

At the end she just sat there trying to process what was just thrown at her without any warning. When she pulled her hand away from his, Jeremiah wanted to pull it but it wouldn't be right. None of this was right.

He explained he wanted to be with her. He really did, but he has to come clean if they were to keep going.

Telling him that she needed some space to think. It was a foreign sight to see Jeremiah who was normally stoic, so unsure. It was like he didn't know what he just said. That his mouth spoke on its own. Or maybe it was the heart speaking, no that sounded too cheesy.

Before departing Jeremiah gave her a kiss on the lips. They only ever, well y/n only gave him peck on the cheek. Though this wasn't a deep or romantic kiss, still just a peck, it would leave an impact on y/n. Though he was sure his words would loop in her head. Cradling both sides of her face and saying, I love you, left her dazed.

She was dazzled and frazzled. He knew it was kind of manipulative of him to do that, but he was being honest. So it's not really manipulation then, right?

It shouldn't have been too much of a surprise that she came running back to him with open arms. Their love for each other might not be the most pure. It definitely won't be when Jeremiah gets sprayed but I digress. y/n might be wearing rose tinted glasses too much and fears being alone, though it doesn't mean she doesn't genuinely care or love him. Jeremiah liked the fact how eager she is to make him happy like a lovesick puppy, it was precious. There was a semblance of innocence between the two.

Getting back together after the week break Jeremiah had to step up his game as y/n's friend constantly reminded him. Leaving little cheesy notes in her locker or slipping them into her bag because she was the one who usually did that type of thing. And he was just trying to reciprocate it. Getting flowers, no big bouquet or anything. Just a flower or two as it wasn't too flashy and seemed more elegant.

Dates were the same way. Nothing too out there, just cozy and simple. Movies, book reading together, studying, etc. Maybe baking if Jeremiah is in one of those rare moods to do something outside his comfort zone.

Let's say he lives with his uncle, Zachary Trumble. Probably washing dishes or being a waiter. Not allowed to cook. It's not that he's bad or anything, it's just that he takes too long. Trying to make sure everything is precise.

Zachary loves y/n. Mainly because of the weight and money behind her name. She's considered the most charitable Wayne for the amount of volunteering she does. Just imagine the publicity of people knowing that his nephew is somehow dating a Wayne and the people coming to the restaurant.

But of course Jeremiah strictly wants it to be private. Zachary understands and won't push it. He does think that Jeremiah is being too cautious since Jerome isn't even in Gotham because of the circus. Regardless it just solidified the fact that Jeremiah was so traumatized by Jerome that he is still paranoid to this day. Even if most of the claims were lies.

His uncle doesn't know of their week-long break. Though he did notice the odd lack of y/n orbiting Jeremiah, and when asked Jeremiah says she's busy. Which is fair enough, I guess.

When Haly's Circus rolled into Gotham everyone around Jeremiah noticed how tense and jumpy he was. When y/n and her friend invited him to join them to go to the circus he made up the excuse that he was sick. y/n wanted to drop everything to make sure he was fully taken care of, but her friend dragged her to the circus. Much to the couple's dismay.

The circus was fun and y/n told him all about it. Not before shoving a stuffed animal towards him. It had y/n's scent on it, but was overpowered by the carnival smell. He cringed at the nostalgic scent and would put it in the washer multiple times until the scent was completely gone. Then she brought up how she almost mistaken someone else for him.

"They were the same height and hair color as you. It was getting dark, so I think that's why I got confused. I was wondering why you weren't wearing your glasses or why your hair was messier. They say everyone has a look alike and I think I found yours last night." y/n chuckled to herself while Jeremiah was internally screaming.

Thankful that Jerome and y/n didn't interact. The idea of them even being near each other made his skin crawl. Thankfully though the circus was only going to be there for a week. It was supposed to only be there for seven days, no less.

The final night of the circus, a snake dancer was murdered. It wasn't anything new, it was practically the norm for Gotham. But the media had a field day with the story. Boy brutally kills abusive mother with hatch. The articles were everywhere with photos of Jerome.

Peers were looking at Jeremiah funny. Making a few jokes about how identical he was to the murder of the hour. Even y/n made a comment about how uncanny their similarities were.

Yeah, that sucked, but Jerome was shoved into Arkham. To be forgotten by the public and everyone alike. Jeremiah didn't have to worry about him anymore and wouldn't have to reveal his real identity to y/n. It was going to be fine. Just a bump in the road.

Jerome just loved to ruin anything that his brother had whether it was intentional or not doesn't matter. It was fun to get under his skin or anyone's for that matter. He's taken the philosophy of ruining everything and doing whatever he wants. If he wants that, he'll take it. Why? Because why not? His life is basically over when he is sent to Arkham to rot away. Life has taken so much out of him, so he feels that it's only right to have the freedom to do whatever.

Probably got acquainted with the Joker while in Arkham or by chance when he was burning down a homeless shelter. Joker and Harley were more of parental figures than Lila ever was tbh. Joker knows he's not living forever and sees Jerome as his possible successor. They are so alike. Joker wipes a tear from his eye when Jerome gets out of Arkham all on his own. They grow up so fast.

I could see y/n being the one the media reports on the most since she has more time since she's no longer running around Gotham in the middle of the night anymore. Rare posts on social media mean less for the public to scrutinize, so all they have is how she works with youth programs and volunteers. Leading the media to state that she was the charitable Wayne child. Any interviews she has, she lies through her teeth when asking about her family. Painting them as hardworking, busy, and loving family. Regardless of how she feels about the family's neglect towards her, she doesn't want to start anything.

Could see y/n going to charity events on her own from time to time even though she's not fond of large crowds or rubbing shoulders with people she doesn't know. Jerome just crashed the event with some of his Joker's followers. It was so boring and he just wanted to get the party started. He wonders how long it will take for the bat and bird to get there. Though honestly it was just a ploy. A distraction for Joker to set up his latest joke. Picks y/n out from the crowd. While he orders the others to start trashing everything, he'll just be openly flirting with y/n.

"Ya know, you're my celebrity crush." Jerome says. y/n almost didn't hear him over the gunshots and screaming. "Yeah?" Her voice was as shaky as her hands. Swallowing the lump in her throat, he looks her dead in the eyes and just says a flat no. Before grinding at her, "Or maybe you are. You look so cute and you have a beautiful voice. I wonder what you sound like when screaming."

y/n's heart just stops. She genuinely can not tell if that is a threat or an innuendo. Either one is horrifying.

Oh, my goodness I have an idea. I'd love to keep writing about this, but I don't want to spoil it. If I do actually write this.

While Jerome is having fun, Jeremiah is having a nervous breakdown. Learning about what happened at the charity event, Jeremiah is manic. His uncle can't calm him down and he's repeatedly calling y/n's number. When she picks up after six missed calls he is so relieved. He knows he can't keep lying to her again and asks if he can visit her. Of course she agrees, they meet up at the park. The moment is very reminiscent of before they gave each other some space.

But this time Jeremiah is not holding back on physical affection. It was only a hug, he was holding her hands, and just physically close to her the whole time. When he explained who he was and put a lot of emphasis on how horrible Jerome was and is.

Shockley y/n is understanding. Too understanding which makes him wonder if she knew to some extent. She verbally explains that it pained her that he didn't trust her enough to tell him after 3 years of dating, yet doesn't harp on it too much.

y/n is lowkey just thinking about how much better y/n Valeska sounds compared to y/n Wilde. Thinking of baby names that go with Valeska.

I have no idea how I'm going to portray how Jeremiah inhales the toxin. I think of it later and go into detail about the aftermath.

Slowly having these twisted thoughts that become more violent. It gets to the point where he isn't sure if can control himself from harming others. His skin is getting paler and dark brown eyes becoming hazel then green.

y/n is freaking out and has hired a team of toxicologists to try to find the effects of the toxin. If there was a cure or that maybe it was temporary.

It only gets worse and they both decide that a psychiatric hospital is the best place for him. He won't be able to hurt himself or others and he'll be there until a cure is found. y/n is constantly visiting him. Even if they're happily enjoying each other's presence, melancholy hangs above them.

Jeremiah's hair starts becoming green and the resemblance of the Joker is glaring. When his face was as pale as snow, y/n tried to cheer him up when insecure. Calling him an angel face and constantly saying she wasn't going to leave him. They were going to get through this together. Even if he no longer looks like himself, she’ll still love him.

Almost two months after the toxin has been inhaled Jeremiah is off. He claims that he's fine and actually better than ever. He's never felt so alive. He wasn't necessarily shy, but he definitely never had this self-confidence before. She wasn't sure how to explain it, there just wasn't something right.

And she was right. There wasn't something right and right wasn't ever coming back.

Holy shit I wrote so much. No one is here to stop me and it's 3 in the morning. I gotta cut this short.

Pre-Spray Jeremiah isn't a yandere per se. There wasn't anyone or thing that threatened their relationship. He could be manipulative if he wants, but it's not often. There isn't any that would trigger any yandere-ness. y/n is always at his beck and call. Nothing to worry about because he knows her eyes are on him and no else.

Post-Spray Jeremiah is so egotistical and entitled. Doesn't believe that y/n would or could fall for someone else. Clearly she signed the mentally fabricated marriage certificate. He now has a temper and can be plain cruel if he wants to. He will be so kind if she follows his rules, but he's not afraid to harm her.

#jeremiah valeska x reader #yandere jeremiah x reader #yandere x reader #reader insert #fanfic that I'll write maybe #delusional ramblings #jeremiah x batsis reader

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detectivemarvelingcomics · 8 months

Text

Not Your Classic Vigilante [Ch. 14]

Alternate Dimension AU TW: Language, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Mild Body Horror, Gore, Graphic Depictions of Monstrous Attacks, Gun Use, Weapon Use, Past Major Character Death CW: OC Use, See the OC Guide [Here] Genre: Drama, Action, Angst, Light Comedy Pairing: Batfamily & Batsis!Reader, OC x Reader YN Pronouns: Female (She/Her) Word Count: 13.7K

(14/?) [First] | [Previous] | [Next] [DC Masterlist] | [Not Your Classic Vigilante Masterlist]

Notes: I know I KNOWWW SHE'S THICKKKKKKKK it's for my dick grayson lovers what can i say?

2006

“Dad!” You were quick to run down the stairs when you’d heard the door open. Bruce took notice to you as soon as you bounded up to him and the smile on his face was one that always made you happy to see. Alfred walked up next to you, greeting Bruce silently.

“Hello, (Y/N), what were you up to while I was gone?” He asks.

“Well, I finally cleaned my room,” you rocked on your heels.

“Very good.”

“Alfred taught me how to play Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star on the piano.”

“I have to hear that.”

“And I played a little, but that’s it,” you gave him an exaggerated nod and he smiles.

“That’s good, (Y/N),” he smiles. “Now, I have a surprise for you,” he says. Your eyes widened with a childish excitement. Then, from behind him, an older boy steps out.

“Hiya,” he waves. You step back, head ducking down in shyness while you looked up at your dad. “I’m Dick, you must be (Y/N), right?” He steps forward, bending down to meet your eyes. You nodded carefully before running to your dad. You hid behind his leg and he rubs your head gently.

“He’ll be staying with us from now on,” your father explains. “You’re always saying how lonely it is here, right? He’s a bit older than you, but you’ll be spending a lot more time together,” your father urges you to step out and introduce yourself. Dick, still at your level, smiles softly.

“I heard a lot about you, (Y/N),” he says, “and if you’re okay with it, I hope we can become friends,” he reaches out to shake your hand, but you shy further behind your father.

“She’s usually not this shy,” your dad says above you.

“I think we just need to get to know each other more,” Dick responds. He leans over so he can meet your gaze and waves again. You hid your face.

“Alfred will help you get settled in, Dick, let me know if you need help with anything,” your dad says and Dick nods at him before following Alfred upstairs. After a while, Bruce stepped away from you slowly. “(Y/N),” his voice had a stern, but gentle tone.

“Dad…” you matched his tone.

“What’s wrong? You told me you wanted someone to talk to,” he crouches down to your level and you hid your hands behind your back.

“I know…” your voice was quiet.

“So, what’s wrong then?” He asks. It’s true. You’d long been asking for a friend, and while both of your parents would spend time with you, it simply wasn’t enough. Your dad was always busy doing business stuff, some adult things you didn’t understand no matter how many times uncle Lucius tried to explain it to you. And your mom was… well, something. She had to make a living by “borrowing” things, but strangely enough she never gave them back. You really just wanted someone to talk to, someone who you could play with, or someone you could spend time with. Someone your age, someone who didn’t keep secrets.

Your parents acted like you didn’t know, but you knew something was up. There were nights where your dad would leave saying he needed to get groceries and then come home with no groceries. Your mom would leave saying she’s meeting a friend and would come back with a bag full of her latest ‘shopping spree.’ But you knew they were hiding something, and as much as they told you that secrets were bad, they had so many, you had a feeling. So you wanted a friend, someone who was just like you.

And now you had one. But, something about it felt… wrong.

“Nothing,” you shook your head. The boy he brought home, he seemed friendly enough, and you were curious about him. But you couldn’t ignore this strange feeling in your chest. “Where did he come from?”

“Remember that circus you wanted to go to?”

“Mmhmm.”

“He’s from there.”

“Then… where are his parents?” Bruce hesitated.

“They’re off for a while, and they asked me to watch their son for now,” he says.

“They didn’t want to take him with them?”

“No, where they’re going is not meant for kids like you and him,” he explains. “So, for a while, he’ll be staying with us. Why don’t you get to know him, (Y/N)?”

“What if I don’t like him? Will you return him and get a new one?”

“That’s not exactly how this works, (Y/N),” your father laughs. “If you don’t like him at first, you’re going to have to learn how to get along with him somehow,” he says.

“Okay…” you mumbled.

“Why wouldn’t you like him, (Y/N)?”

“I dunno,” you shrugged.

“Exactly, go talk to him, be friendly,” Bruce encourages you.

“Okay,” you nodded your head and Bruce smiles before shaking your shoulder softly.

“Good, I’m going to get cleaned up, why don’t you say ‘Hello’ to Dick on your way up? He’s in the room across from you.”

“I will,” you nodded again and ran up the stairs.

You stopped in front of Dick’s room, the door was open and he was speaking to Alfred, quickly you hid behind the wall, not wanting to get caught by the old man. But it was their conversation that kept you hidden.

“Now, Master Grayson,” Alfred’s voice was stern, you’d only heard him speak like that to your father on occasion and you when you stole sweets. “Miss (Y/N) doesn’t know.”

“Really?”

“This must be kept a secret between you, me, and Master Bruce.” Secret? Well, that’s not fair. You wanted to know too. So much for a friend who didn’t keep secrets. There were so many around you, you were starting to think that you should keep secrets just to be like everyone else.

“And she never suspected?”

“She is only seven, Master Grayson, and not usually here on weekends,” Alfred sighs. “Master Bruce asks that you be careful.”

“Yeah, okay,” Dick’s voice was quiet. “Does he plan on telling her?”

“When she’s older, yes. When she can understand it.” Does it count as a secret still if they’ll tell you when you’re older? You’ll just have to hurry up and grow up then!

“Sure, I got it.”

But, still, that’s not fair. You wanted to know now. But when you heard Alfred approaching the door, you knew better than to let yourself get scolded for eavesdropping, so you ran to your room and closed the door only slightly, just enough to watch Alfred leave, and once he was gone, you crept across the hallway. Dick was busy placing his items across the room, you peeked in slowly, waiting to see if he’d notice you, and soon enough he did. He raised his hand to wave, but you ducked behind the door frame instead.

“Hi, (Y/N),” he waits for you to approach him.

“Hello,” you said quietly.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Did you… want to come in?” He asks. You shook your head and he nods with a tight lipped smile. But, soon, you nodded your head and Dick let out a short laugh. “Come on in, then,” he invites you. You walked inside and sat on the desk chair while he continued unpacking.

“I have a secret,” you blurted. Dick turned to you, eyebrow raised.

“What’s that?”

“I… I have a secret stash of candy in my room,” you answered. It was secret enough, you’d been building a bit of a stockpile now. Dick cracks a smile, looking somewhat relieved.

“That’s some secret there, who else knows?”

“Just you,” you nodded. “You can’t tell anyone.”

“Okay.”

“Promise?”

“Friendly secret,” he makes a zipper motion over his mouth.

“Hmm… okay, I trust you,” you hummed. Dick smiled again, this time a bit tighter.

“I’m leaving now,” you hopped off.

“That’s fine! Thanks for dropping by,” he says. You nodded your head and ran across the hall to your room.

Dick, meanwhile, took a deep breath.

This was not what he signed up for when he agreed to help Bruce.

2022

The beast roared and, above you, a storm started to roll in.

“Well, talk about about a warm welcome,” you glanced at Jason and he shook his head.

“(Y/N)?! We ran up as soon as we saw you leave!” Tim and Damian regroup with you and you usher them behind you. Tim looks at the monster.

“When you said monsters, for some reason I didn’t think you meant legitamate monsters,” he says.

“Cap!” Aldryn rushes out of the barracks, your rifle and rapier in hand.

“Aldryn, I need you to run back down, bring Tim and Jason with you. You two, grab what you think you all can use,” you instructed. “I’ll handle things up here until you return, we’re going to need all hands on deck.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Aldryn salutes and waits for them to join him before rushing off again.

“Damian, I need you on crowd control,” you looked at him.

“What?! I can help!”

“Too bad, this is an order from your superior,” your voice was stern, and it took him aback, “crowd control. Make sure everyone is a safe distance away, am I clear?” You waited for his response.

“Yeah,” he nodded his head curtly before running off. You readied your rapier.

“Alright… let’s see what we’re working with,” you sprinted forward and the beast reached for you.

It’s going to be long day.

“Where are we going?” Tim asks.

“Weapons barracks,” Aldryn responds, running in after Jason and Tim. Jason grabs his usual while Tim looks around. “What are you looking for? If you can think of it, we have it.”

“Do you have a bo-staff then?” He asks. Aldryn hums.

“Yes, but you’ll have to come with me. Marion was using it earlier,” he mumbles. He leads him and Jason to the elevator and they descend.

“What was that thing?” Jason asks.

“We call them Daemons,” Aldryn speaks quietly. “We’ve dealt with monsters before, but none like them. They’re on a whole other level of power and now, beause of them, we’re short staffed,” Aldryn’s voice was grim. “Not exactly the best first operation for you two but, Cap’s orders.” The conversation ends when the elevator doors slide open.

“Aldryn!” Marion was surprised to see him, but more surprised to see the two behind him. “Do they have clearance?”

“They’re about to fight one up there, so I’d say so, yes,” Aldryn nods.

“Holy shit, that’s one of them,” Jason eyes the beast in it’s cage. It snorts loudly but it becomes a low snarl.

“Don’t worry about this one, since it’s in here it won’t be hurting anyone,” Marion says.

“No time for introductions, but this one here will be joining your research team once things settle down,” Aldryn points at Tim.

“Right, well, I’m assuming the Captain sent you down here for a reason, right?” Marion’s and Aldryn’s conversation were the least of Jason and Tim’s worries though. Jason looked over at Tim, who was looking at the beast.

“What are you thinking of, Tim?”

“Look at it, it’s just there,” Tim says. “The one outside is raising hell. Why is this one complacent?”

“Maybe it’s got something to do with all that stuff stuck to its cage.”

“Or maybe there’s more to it then they know,” Tim glances at Aldryn and Marion before approaching the cage.

“Whoa, Tim! Do you got a death wish?” Jason grabs Tim’s shoulder.

“It’s fine, they said it can’t hurt us,” Tim shakes him off and Jason follows close behind. “Also… this one’s different.”

“Can you really say that? You’ve only ever seen one other one.”

“Jason, it’s looking at me.”

“Okay. Wolves look at rabbits, what’s your point?”

“I can’t really explain it,” Tim mumbles. He stares at the monster. And it stares back. Then, slowly, it moves its head down and closer to the edge of the cage to match Tim’s eye level.

“You! Get back right now!” Marion’s voice was shrill and Tim broke eye contact. “How did you get it to respond to you?!” She pulls him away.

“I… I just looked-”

“Just like the Captain,” she mutters. She looks at Aldryn before shoving the bo-staff into Tim’s hands. “We’ll talk about this later, the Captain needs you first.

“Right, yeah,” Tim nods shortly and Aldryn motions for them to leave. But Jason looks at the beast a bit longer. Come to think of it, Tim had a point. This one was different. And, before he left, Jason’s eyes moved down to the floor, looking at the disturbed section of it where Tim was standing seconds before. “Jason!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Jason catches up with them.

And they returned just in time too.

“Ma’am!” Aldryn returns with your brothers as soon as you’d been pushed back from the blows. You moved the hair out of your face and caught your breath.

“Good. Aldryn, stay close to the Royal family, tell them I have it under control. If you run into any of the new recruits, tell them they’re on civilian duty,” you instructed. The Daemon roars again and a gust of wind blows behind it. Aldryn runs off.

“So, what do we do? Where are its weak points?” Tim asks.

“Their stomachs, maybe,” you answered.

“Maybe?!” Tim steps back when the Daemon finally takes notice of the group.

“Better a maybe than none,” you looked around.

“Captain! What’s the situation?” Eve appears next to you with the rest of the Brigade stepping out of the portal after. You pointed at the Daemon.

“Only one for now,” you mumbled.

“Holy shit it’s huge,” Nixon swallows harshly. You heard someone scream and your eyes scanned the courtyard. Then, you spotted Lowen cornered by yet another Daemon, noticeably smaller than the other one and with a visible streak of red fur running down from the top of it’s head to the tip of its tail. You hope that didn’t mean anything, nothing bad at least.

“Make it two, you all focus on this one, I’ve got the second!” You slung your rifle over your shoulder and readied your rapier while you ran over to him. “Lowen! Lower your head!” Lowen did so and you used the planter to boost your leverage before burying the rapier into the Daemon’s shoulder. The monster roared and tried to blindly grab at you, but you held your ground, holding your rifle with your other hand while clutching onto the handle of your sword and you pressed it to it’s other shoulder and pulled the trigger. The beast roared again before it grabbed your arm and threw you back where you came. You slid against the ground before slamming into the next planter and you groaned.

“Shake it off, Cap,” Carter pulls you up.

“Oh my god! Your arm!” Tim shouts, tearing his eyes away from the first Daemon for a second. You stand up and pick up your ripped-off arm.

“At least it threw both pieces,” Nixon winces when lightning struck a few paces away from him. You held it in place while the muscles reattached and, while it did, you felt every nerve reconnect and every muscle bind itself back together. The worst of it was to come, the bones were always the last to rebuild. You grit your teeth through the pain and once enough has reconnected you readied your rifle again, confidently holding it in one hand, and you fired it while aiming for the second Daemon’s foot, staggering it long enough for Lowen to scramble back.

“Oh, that is sick and twisted,” Jason looks away, holding his hand over his mouth and you readjusted the previous death grip on your rapier.

“No time for that, focus on the big one,” you ran back toward the second monster and Tim followed you. He dashed past you, stepping in front of Lowen just in time to counter the blow from the Daemon. “Tim! Hold your ground!”

“I’m trying!” Tim tightens his hold on the staff, his knuckles turning white from the pressure alone while Lowen stays frozen beneath him. You slide under the monster, your rapier piercing the Daemons stomach just enough for it to stagger back.

“Eve!”

“Got it!” Eve waves her hand toward your Daemon and in seconds it is held by down by an invisible force, but it fought back, it struggled against its restraints until it broke free and Eve lost her footing. It stood on its feet and locked its aim on you, it foamed at the mouth while it took heavy steps toward you and made grabbing motions toward you. Tim stood at your side all the way, staff now in front of you, when two shots rang out and Jason was next to step in front of you.

“Jay, you can’t take this in a fist fight,” you told him.

“I know,” he says. The beast snorts, looking Jason in the eye. It growls lowly. “Take the kid and go, I got this,” he says. You shook Lowen out of his fear and pulled him to safety. “Alright…” Jason continues his staredown of this monster, and never once did it stop. But there was this strange feeling he got from it, like it was familiar in a sense. Maybe this was what Tim felt earlier. Then, once a few magic circles surrounded it, the monster was debilitated and held in a prison of light.

“Go help the others with the big one,” Eve strains and Jason stares a her.

“You sure you’ve got it?.”

“I’ll manage,” she says while a bead of sweat rolls down the side of her face. She keeps her focus as best as she can, “but that one isn’t going down as quickly as this one did.” She takes deep breaths in attempt to hold it steady between portals, while behind her Nixon’s attacks seemed to deflect off of the bigger monster. Jason spots you running back, this time with your rifle, and you aimed it carefully before taking the shot. The bullet lodged itself into the monster’s shoulder right before it could swing at Nixon, and it stunned it long enough for him to make her escape.

“They’re getting stronger,” you commented. This one was stronger than five of those beasts you’d fought before put together. If it was taking most of the Brigade to subdue it, then that much was true.

2010

“Okay, I’ll help you once, alright?” Jason sighed and you grinned.

“Yes!”

“Here, put this on,” he shoves a bag toward you and you nodded excitedly before running out of the room. When you came back, your excitement shone through your mask.

“You can call me the Girl Wonder!” You threw your cape behind you and Jason snickered.

“Whoa, I’m shaking in my boots,” Jason teased and you pouted. “Wait, wait, it’s too big.”

“Of course, it’s too big, this was Dick’s costume right?” You rocked on your heels, and it became more apparent that the shoes were too big too. Jason tosses you your usual sneakers

“Put those on, let me see what I can do,” he walks around you before disappearing for a second and coming back with safety pins, “don’t move, or else I’m gonna poke you,” he adjusts the costume on the shoulders, he didn’t want to make any permanent alterations with something basically historic.

“You think there’s gonna be a day you and I are fighting bad guys together?” You asked while he pinched up the fabric at your shoulders.

“Who knows, maybe,” Jason shrugged, his words muffled by the safety pins held between his lips.

“That would be cool, Jason and (Y/N), maybe Dick too, right? And dad?”

“Sure,” he feeds into your fantasy. “Only if I’m with you, though. You might trip over your cape.”

“Not true!” Still, Jason finds a way to shorten the cape.

“Yes, true! Look at your floor There’s trash all over it!”

“I’ll pick it up later! Geez!” You argued, but you calmed down just as quickly. “That would be so cool though… I want to be just like you.”

“Nah, you’d be better,” Jason chuckles. “There you go, kiddo,” he tests the stability of it and, once he’s happy with it, he pulls the cape over your shoulders to hide the pins.

“Now what?”

“We go to Titan tower,” Jason gestures for you to follow him.

“Oh, dad says I’m not allowed on that,” you eyed the Robin Motorcycle and Jason rolls his eyes.

“Pssh, it’s fine, you’re with me,” he lifts you and secures you to the seat before climbing on behind you and shoving the helmet onto your head.

“Is this legal?” Your voice was muffled by the helmet.

“Don’t worry about the details!” He starts up the motorcycle.

“Are you wearing a helmet?!” Actually you were wearing his.

“Yeah,” he lied and off you went.

You’d been in the batmobile plenty of times, seen the city in it just as much, but seeing it this way was different. Everything seemed closer, like you could reach out and join whatever scene was there. With the wind blowing around you and your hands firmly grasped onto the bike, this felt amazing! You felt like you were flying, moving faster than even some of the other cars, and every now and then an excited laugh would escape you.

Maybe being a Robin wouldn’t be so bad?

“Alright, kiddo, we’re here,” Jason parks the bike and helps you off.

“You lied! You’re not wearing a helmet!” You pulled it off of your head and eyed the ‘R’ decal on the side.

“Yup, I did. Anyway, let’s set some ground rules,” Jason kneels so he can look at you in the eye, “you tell no one who you are, yeah? If anyone asks, you’re Robin, okay?”

“Why can’t I say my name?”

“It’s dangerous,” Jason explains, “and when you’re looking for Dick, you ask for Nightwing.”

“Is it also dangerous if they know his name?”

“Yes, very.”

“Okay,” you nodded and followed Jason to the side of the tower. He pulls the vent cover off and crawls in. So… maybe Jason wasn’t exactly allowed in Titan tower after a few misfortunate events that included him losing his cool and his temper. But, what can he do?

Dick really pissed him off.

But, that was beside the point. You wanted to see him, and this was the only way he could help you do that, so fuck it. Plus, with the majority of everyone's identities still being secret, he couldn't have you just waltzing in here anyway without him.

“Follow me.”

“This feels illegal.”

“Shh!”

“Okay, okay!” You followed him carefully and, after some twists and turns, Jason kicked out one of the vents and crawled out, helping you down too. You landed in some kind of lounge area, a large sofa in the middle.

“Wait here, Nightwing should be coming soon, I’ll wait for you outside,” Jason says before leaving the way he came. You sat on the couch, kicking your legs for a bit. Then you started playing with the end of your cape. The material was pretty comfy, actually, you could see yourself falling asleep in it easily. You wondered if Dick ever did. You always liked this costume, actually, it was so different from your dad’s that in some ways you preferred it.

Your brothers were heroes. How cool was that? And your dad was probably the most heroic one of them all, and that was much cooler. If only you could show it off, you were sure everyone would be jealous of you. How often can anyone say that their family are superheroes? Dick always looked so cool in this uniform, and sure he still looks amazing with his new one, but this one? It was different.

Finally after waiting enough you decided to just find him yourself. How hard could it be anyway?

Very hard, apparently.

So you did what any preteen would do and wandered around the tower, he had to be somewhere, right?

Until you landed in the middle of what you assumed to be a training room. It was a spacious room with a kiosk off to the side, and you sat down in the middle, crossing your legs and holding them to your chest. This sucked. And you didn’t even know the way back out to meet Jason to go home. Then, off to the corner of your eye, you saw movement, and you turned your head toward it but… nothing. But you felt the stares, you felt the eyes, and it scared you. You couldn’t call for help, you didn’t know where Dick was and Jason was too far to hear, so you shut your eyes tight and covered your ears. But that never stopped you before.

“Help!” Your voice was loud and immediately you heard a vent clatter to the ground while Jason tumbled out of it, he stood in front of you with one hand up and the other on his belt, ready to pull out a batarang if needed.

“Stop! We’re not intruders!” He shouts.

“Relax, everyone,” Dick’s voice was firm while he held a fist up to stop all movements, and, slowly the Titans back off. Dick eyed Jason and gestured for him to move over before he approached you slowly, crouching down as soon as he was close enough. And he felt his heart tighten. He knew it was you as soon as he’d seen you, but to see you in that? His old uniform? That old thing that had been ripped apart after many battles and had been stained with blood many a time… To see you wearing it was almost wrong. The little girl who cried whenever her brothers had scratches, the one who called for help for the smallest of things, to think that you could be a Robin almost ripped him apart, he didn’t want you to go through any of what he did, any of what Jason did. Hell, you just called for help right now and this is probably one of the safest places you could be.

Jason, only he could’ve put you up to this, and he made his intent clear from the quick glare he shot him, but Jason replied by whistling and rolling his eyes. Dick only sighed and reached out to rub your head. You removed your hands just enough to peer over them, and once you’d seen him, your frown deepened and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight, and he held you back. You missed him, a lot.

“False alarm, everyone, she’s my sister,” he rubs your back gently before rising up and, once you’d looked around, you saw the other members of the Titans that Dick was always talking about. “And you,” he looks at Jason, “we’ll talk later, wait outside for her and I’ll bring her out,” he says. Jason doesn’t fight it, he just nods and leaves the room, looking back to see you watching him go.

“He’s not in trouble is he?” You tugged at Dick’s arm to get his attention. “It was my idea to come here…” you muttered. Before Dick could respond, you were surrounded by excited voices. And you recognized all of them, you’d seen them plenty of times on your dad’s big computer alongside the other heroes.

“Whoa, Nightwing! You have a younger sister?” Garfield was the first to approach you, looking at you closely as if trying to find any similarities between the two of you.

“Yeah, adoptive,” he explains, ushering you forward.

“What a cute little girl!” Starfire pinches your cheeks and you let her, feeling the warmth from her hands radiate into your face as she did so and you didn’t hate it, “have you come to visit your brother?”

“Yeah,” your voice was slightly stifled.

“Good, take him home with you, he needs a break,” Starfire grins.

“Come on, Star, there’s too much work to do here,” he shakes his head.

“Now, what’s your name? You got a cool one too?” Garfield asks and Dick clears his throat before you could answer.

“Obviously, we can’t tell you her name, but you can just call her Robin while she’s here.”

“That’s a little confusing with the other Robin,” Raven mutters.

“But the other Robin isn’t here right now,” Wally answers.

“Alright, how about Little Wing, then?” Dick tosses out the nickname he had for you and your eyes lit up.

“Cool!” Wally zips over to you. “You really a Robin?” You shook your head. “Whoa, I was about to say…”

“Alright, alright, let’s not crowd her, okay?” Dick pushes you slightly behind him now, “you guys filter out, I’ll talk with her for a bit, I think I know why she’s here,” Dick wears a knowing smile, and the others groan but leave anyway, leaving you and Dick in the training room.

“So, Little Wing, what brings you all the way here from Gotham?” He sits down and crosses his legs, and you sit next to him.

“I just wanted to visit, is all…” you muttered.

“Oh, yeah?”

“You’re never home anymore…” you mumbled. Dick sighs.

“Yeah… yeah,” he nods, “the team needs me here.”

“But I need you there,” you replied. A small frown settles on Dick’s face.

“I know, I can’t come home right now, (Y/N),” he says while listening for unwanted ears, “but, hey, you still have Robin.”

“He’s still rude!” You shout. “He’s not like you, whenever I ask to do stuff with him all he does is complain, he can be so mean sometimes!” You grumbled.

“Mean? He took you all the way here, didn’t he?” Dick leans back on his palms and you huffed.

“I guess… but that’s probably because I keep complaining about how you’re not around anymore,” you pout.

“And he still does all those things with you even though he complains, right?”

“Yeah,” you looked to the side.

“Heck, even when you called for help that kid came tumbling down, I’m sure you hurt his feelings every time you call him mean.”

“Do I really?” Your voice was small. You hadn’t really considered it before. You and Jason had a tendency to argue, and maybe say a few mean things to each other every now and then, but you never once thought that you hurt his feelings during. “I guess he’s not so bad…”

“Looks like I got a worthy replacement then,” he claps your shoulder and you frowned again while shifting slightly away from him.

“Why aren’t you ever home anymore?” Dick doesn’t answer. “Is it dad? Did you two get in a fight?”

“Something like that,” Dick sighs. “But, you’re right, just because he and I are fighting doesn’t mean I should ignore you,” he rubs your hair playfully and you smiled. “I’ll carve out some time for you too, I can’t have Robin stealing all my thunder, right?” He smiles and you nodded your head.

“Promise?”

“Sibling's promise," he smiles.

2022

“Move!” You pushed Nixon out of the way just in time for the Daemon’s arm to hammer down on top of you. You barely dodged in time, the beast’s arm just grazing you before it slammed against the ground and cracked the concrete beneath it. You pierced your blade into the beast’s stomach and it roared above you. “Shit, not enough,” you pulled back, but the beast grabbed onto you. “Shit!” You repeated and the beast opened its maw wide before it came biting down over your shoulder, its teeth digging into your neck, back, and chest. Your scream was near primal, feeling every single piece of you rip and sew itself back together.

“Captain!” Eve’s shriek could be heard from anywhere.

“(Y/N)!” And only Jason’s could have rivaled it. You heard successive rounds fired out and you knew they hit their target, but it couldn’t have been enough to fell this beast. Shurikens embedded themselves into the daemon’s body before you saw the staff flung toward it. But the beast only caught it in its hands and tossed it to the ground. You thrashed against the monster, you were too close to use your rifle and too busy to make your rapier be of any use aside from a handle. You grabbed onto the monster’s face, trying to pry it off of you, but it just bit down harder, pulling out yet another pained scream from you. Tim found a way to get on top of the beast and, holding Carter’s sword, he plunged the sword into the beast’s neck, but all it did was anger it further, and it shook you side to side like a dog would a toy, and your screams became garbled from the harsh movements. Tim was thrown to the ground in time for Jason to step forward and aim for the more vital parts of the beast.

But it wasn’t enough.

And you began to resort to more grotesque techniques to survive. So, with mangled limbs, you grabbed onto the beast’s ears and pushed back with all your might until you started to feel the flesh rip. Then another roar is heard. You turned your head to its source, right in front of the Barracks, and you felt an intense wave of dread.

It escaped.

The previously captured Daemon breathed heavily, chain collar around it’s neck and broken shackles on each limb. It was looking at you.

Sure, you could reattach. But, hypothetically, if you were ripped apart just enough, to the point that there was no base body to even reattach to, then this might be the end for you.

But that wasn’t fair. You couldn’t die yet, not in front of them. You were just barely able to catch a glimpse of Jason, the only one turned toward you, and it killed you, the way he looked. You couldn’t even imagine Tim. Thank god you sent Damian away.

“Oh, fuck,” Nixon charged toward it, but the daemon bent down on it’s hind legs before leaping across the air and toward you. It landed with a loud thud, shaking the ground temporarily before charging toward you and the daemon that was still trying to gnaw you in half.

You winced when the daemon locked its jaw on you, and you prepared yourself for impact, but instead, the chained Daemon bit onto the larger one’s neck and ripped it off of you. You fell to the ground, panting heavily and with no strength to get it up, but you were able to turn your head just enough to see the fight. It was gruesome.

“(Y/N), holy shit,” Jason helps you sit up, his hands red with the blood from your back. You brought your one good hand to your head and tried to stop the ringing in your ears through sheer will. Jason waved a hand in front of you. “How many fingers?”

“Three,” your eyes were slowly focusing again. You looked down at your chest.

It wasn’t reattaching. Not fast, at least.

“Are they fighting?” Carter runs up next to you, eyeing the bite wound before looking at the two beasts.

“Yeah, where’s Alex?” You were still catching your breath.

“Calling for help, again,” Carter looks around. “Eve’s getting medical supplies and Nixon’s watching the other one.”

“Okay,” you coughed up blood and you kept your head turned low. You couldn’t look at Jason. You didn’t want to know what kind of expression he had on his face right now. And you couldn’t let Tim see you this way either.

“(Y/N)! Let me see it,” Tim falls in front of you, looking at the damage, but his hands were shaking. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he says. “It was me, I saw it and got curious, I must have weakened the defense somehow,” Tim mumbles.

“Don’t,” you shook your head and looked past him, toward the fight. “They’re fighting each other… but why?” Your breathing was labored.

“Save your energy, kid.” You just realized that Jason has been supporting you this whole time. You watched the chained daemon grab onto the electric one, holding both of its arms before ripping one off entirely.

“Holy fuck,” it was like you were watching a massacre. And when the chained daemon bit down on the other for the last time, it closed its jaw completely over the other’s neck. Slowly, it rose again, opening its jaw to let the blood of its felled opponent spill out, and then it turned to you. Instinctively, you tried to push back, but Jason held you in place. His gaze was as locked upon it as it was to you.

The daemon approached the group slowly, its eyes menacing and its jaw hung open, but its steps were slow and maybe casual. Its ears folded down and as it closed the distance its eyes seemed to soften. Before it finally stood above you, everyone held still by your weakened fist in the air, ready to signal an attack at any moment. But nothing happened, it just stood there.

And then it looked at Tim.

You were already confused about why it seemed responsive to you, but to Tim too?

“Tim,” your voice was weak.

“Yeah?” He didn’t break eye contact with the beast.

“Around its neck are a pair of dog tags, read it for me.”

“Okay…” Tim reached his hand out slowly. And the beast, as if understanding, turned its head up to allow the tags to be seen better. “CK-78.”

“Does it mean anything to you?” You asked. Blood was still pooling out of the bite marks across your torso.

Tim’s eyes narrowed on the dogtags, and then he looked up at the daemon’s eye. Strange, it was as if it was begging Tim to get it. To figure out the mystery behind it.

While Tim did so, Eve returned, holding the first aid kit and kneeling next to you.

“I got it,” Jason took the bandages. He knew a thing or two about field patching, he’d say. He wrapped it around your body a couple of times after packing the larger wounds, it’ll do for now, but you’d have to get the seen by a professional later.

Look at this.

His worst nightmare.

During his time as a Robin, there was a reoccurring nightmare he’d always have.

It would start out as normal, it was one of those dreams that felt so real that he wouldn’t think twice. He’d pick you up from academy, you’d do whatever you felt like doing, and on your way home you’d be interrupted by one of the bastards who had Batman and Robin on their hit list. They would fight. And Jason would be so busy beating the shit out of them that he wouldn’t realize the mortal wounds you had. And when he would clean you up, when he would stop the bleeding any way he knew how, you would look away from him, and you wouldn’t say anything.

He would always wake up in a cold sweat after that, comforted by the fact that it was a nightmare.

Except now wasn’t that, it was real. It was so real that you were bleeding through your bandages, and you were holding your head from the blood loss, no doubt seeing the world spin, and you weren't looking at him.

“What happened?!” Damian came back too late, seeing you on the ground. It was his turn to sit in front of you. “Sister? Sister!” Damian held your face in his hands. But your eyes had glazed over. Your breaths were shallow, and your head heavy.

You were so tired.

Your eyelids slipped shut and the last thing you felt was Damian shaking you.

2014

You watched silently while Dick went through his normal workout routine. You were more disinterested, if anything, sure it was cool at first but now it was just a wasted three hours of your day. But, you needed to ask him something, in fact that was why you’d been staying with him for the past week, one part of it was that it was this odd request of yours and the other part of it was that you just didn’t want to be home. It was so suffocating in the mansion, so quiet, and so…

Lonely.

“What’s up, little wing?” Dick pulled you out of your thoughts. He wiped the sweat off his neck with a towel and started shoving the weights back into their original places. “You’ve been staring at me for a while now.”

“Have I? Sorry, it wasn’t creepy was it?”

“It was a little creepy,” he chuckled. “But… I know I look good,” he nudges you playfully.

“Shut up, you’re gross,” you made a fake gagging sound and leaned back against the wall, being sure to avert your gaze this time.

“Is… everything alright?” He asks as if testing the waters. You didn’t blame him, to be fair. Since you’d arrived, you hadn’t mentioned his name once.

“Everything’s fine,” you shrugged. Dick sits next to you now, picking up his water bottle along the way and taking a deep breath.

“I know it’s hard but… he’s my brother too.” That got you. You leaned forward with your elbows on your knees and you buried your face in your hands. “It’s okay to grieve,” he says. It’s already been a year.

“But what if I don’t want to?” Your voice was muffled. “Me grieving is like me accepting that he’s dead, but he can’t be, right? Dad wouldn’t have let him die, right?” Your questions would go unanswered, instead, you felt Dick place a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“Everyone… everyone has to go eventually,” Dick says carefully.

“Why did it have to be him, though?” Your tears spilled out of your hands now. You never really thought of how deadly your family’s jobs were. They were just always so prepared, so ready for any possible thing that could go wrong, until they weren’t. “I… I’ve been watching Tim train to be Robin, and it got me thinking about what he asked me before…” your voice trailed after being interrupted by hiccups, and Dick just rubbed your upper back the whole time, waiting patiently for you to finish. You took a deep breath. “Tim asked me… to become the next Robin, originally. But I said no, and now he’s training instead. But… you know he’s so bright, he can do anything he wants and instead, because I chickened out, he’s training to be a vigilante.” Dick didn’t say anything. “But you know me and how I feel about what you all do.”

“I do.”

“I just… it’s not…” you paused. “Could I even do it?” You turned to him now. Dick, though, turned away from you with his focus on his hands. They were grasping onto each other tight with the knuckles turning white. “Dick?”

“What do you think, (Y/N)?” He asks. “If you came here to ask me to make that decision for you, I won’t. You know as well as I do what being a Robin means.”

“But he’s just so… young, Dick. I never realized how young you both were when you started, but now when I watch Tim I can’t help but worry.”

“Hell, you should’ve seen us then,” Dick laughs quietly. There’s no way you could know his thoughts right now. He who might have been the reason why you were so averted to vigilante business to begin with, he did everything he possibly could to keep you separate from it and now here you were, asking him if you should become a Robin. It was one of his worst nightmares, actually. There have been many a time he thought if becoming a vigilante was the right way to cope, he thought he was becoming a hero, but really he at first became a soldier. He couldn’t see you become like that. You who was probably the only thing keeping both him and Bruce grounded, imagine if they lost that, imagine if you lost that.

“But doesn’t it make sense though, Dick? If I became a Robin?”

“Well… yeah,” he nods his head absently, “but is that what you want to do?” You thought for a moment. The toll vigilante work took on your dad, the childhood it took from Dick, the life it took from Jason, and the time it was taking from Tim, could you shoulder that?

“I came here for two reasons,” you said instead, “one was to get out of that house. No one’s ever home anymore,” you muttered.

“And the second?”

“I was going to ask you to train me,” you admitted bashfully. “But I don’t think I was ever cut out for vigilante work, I don’t have the same resolve you and… he did,” you took a deep breath. “What exactly did you two fight about for Jason to have been banned from the Titan tower, Dick?”

“…” he didn’t answer for a while. But you knew that look on his face, he was thinking, and very hard at that too. “He wanted to train you,” he says, “he wanted to have the both of us train you. Have you learn the basics of being a Robin just in case… just in case neither of us could’ve gotten to you in time.” Your face grew more serious. “And I said ‘no.’”

“Why?”

“At that time, when you were twelve, did you want to be a Robin?” He asks. You thought about it for a while.

“Yes, I thought I could be a Robin,” you nodded.

“And now?” He waits for your answer.

“I… I don’t know. But, was the fight really all that bad for him to get banned?”

“You don’t understand, (Y/N),” Dick shook his head. “No one knows the price of being a Robin more than we did. You know, no matter how old you get, you’re still our little sister, I don't know what I'd do if even half the shit that happened to me happened to you,” he nudges you. “We didn’t see eye-to-eye on that and, well, I already disagreed with how he treated the mantle too, so I won’t lie and I tell you we started off on a good page,” he says. “And when it came to you, what to do with you and how to take care of you, we either agreed with each other entirely or were at odds, there was no in-between,” Dick rolled his eyes, thinking back to the arguments between the two.

“Really?”

“Yeah, we just never did it in front of you, obviously,” Dick says. “You know us well, (Y/N). Take you being in danger. If it was up to me you’d never be in a dangerous situation to begin with, so I hope you never held it against me when I told you to stay behind.”

“I did.”

“I know,” Dick nods. “You do this thing where you’d take a deep breath and close your eyes and that’s how we’d know you’re upset,” he laughs and you broke a smile. “But Jason? Phew. To him, as long as you were within an arm’s distance, you were never in danger, and that was pretty much true from how I’d see him with you,” Dick shakes his head.

“Well… yeah, it’s the same with you, right?” You asked.

“Of course! But, also, not necessarily,” he shakes his head again. “It’s happened enough times before, I would just pull you out of a situation before things got too heated. Jason, though, would throw himself in front of you if it meant keeping you safe, he was always reckless like that,” he says. And look where it got him. “Like that time you first visited me at the Tower, oh my god, I almost popped a vein when I heard how you got there,” Dick exaggerates his words with his hands. “The Robin Cycle?! Seriously?! God, so much could have gone wrong, and, oh my god, you were in the vents!” Dick started rambling and you started laughing. “He’s actually crazy to think that would’ve been okay,” Dick runs a hand through his hair and you settled down.

“I had so much fun that day,” your smile fell into a softer one, “I remember thinking that I was just like you guys…” Dick nods solemnly.

"That's... If there was one thing Jason and I always agreed on, it was that we wanted you to be better than we could ever be. For me, that was making your own choices free from a legacy, and for Jason that was being more prepared than he ever was," Dick says before taking a deep breath. “Sometimes I forget we were that same age when we started,” Dick says.

“Exactly,” you sighed.

“The only difference was that Jason and I were insanely traumatized, and you weren’t,” he chuckles and you shifted uncomfortably.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” your arms rested over your knees. “You and Jason were these self-made heroes, and I was the spoiled rich kid brat who thought it would’ve been easy.”

“Spoiled? Yeah. Brat? Nah,” Dick laughs.

“Hey!”

“Hey you! Whatever you wanted we got you!”

“Okay, well that was your choice,” you defended yourself.

“True,” Dick concedes. But then his smile falls. “We used to talk about it. (Y/N),” the tone shifts again, “it’s not that we think you couldn’t handle being a vigilante, anyone can take on the mantle, it’s whether or not you’d be best utilized for that mantle. You have so many other strengths that Jason and I don’t have, you know you kept us grounded so many times when all we wanted to do was fly,” Dick says. “There are days where we almost went too far, I think, and every time there you were to help us back down,” he continues, but then he stops. “If you want to be a Robin, then I’ll help you, but you need to find someone who can be your grounder too. That hopeful humanity you have is what makes you such a vital part to our team, and I’m just afraid that becoming Robin will change that,” he finishes. You held on to every word.

Robin, what did it really stand for? It wasn’t just Batman’s sidekick, it was a symbol as much as Batman was. A symbol of hope for some, the hope that came after vengeance.

And here you were, wanting to become a Robin just to hunt down the Joker.

You couldn’t tell that to Dick.

But it made you so upset. The Joker killed your brother and your father hasn’t done anything about him, hell, you were just reading an article about how Joker and Batman had a showdown and still your father let him go. Wasn’t your father angry at all? Didn’t he feel some kind of guilt or sympathy for Jason?

“(Y/N), I know what you’re thinking, I can see it in your eyes,” Dick says. “But Bruce… Bruce has his own way of grieving too. We don’t have to understand it, it’s not like he’d tell us anyway, but just like how you came to me, Bruce went to someone else,” Dick explains.

“He’s my own dad, and I feel like you know him better than I ever will.”

“I am older than you,” he nudges you softly.

“I just wish he came to us,” you mumbled. “He thinks he’s so alone sometimes, and I feel it,” you held onto your chest and rubbed it softly with the ball of your hand. “I feel like I don’t know him anymore, Dick, I don’t know how to talk to my own dad.”

“Just start small, he’s grieving too.”

“I don’t recognize him anymore, Dick,” your hands went to your arms now. “Don’t tell him this, okay?” You looked at him, your eyes wide with a hint of… something, something Dick didn’t want to admit.

“I won’t.”

“Promise?”

“Sibling secret,” he makes a zipper motion with his mouth. You moved so that you were facing him a little more.

“When he came home the other night, Tim was already in bed and I was about to go too, but you know I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately, and my therapist recommended tea. I figured dad would want some too, he usually does after late-night patrols, so I made some for him and brought it down to the cave. I was originally just going to leave it there, but he was already sitting down in front of the batcomputer… I didn’t even hear him come in,” you started. “And when I placed the mug down, he turned to look at me so fast that I almost fell back, and…” you hesitated, but Dick was listening very carefully, “he threw one of those batarangs of his. He threw it towards me and he missed, but,” your hand ghosted over your cheek, where the shallow cut was long before, “I know he didn’t mean to, he’d been on edge ever since what happened but… he scared me, Dick. The way he looked at me, it scared me so much I couldn’t move,” your hands were trembling, they were trembling so much you clasped your hands together to stop them, but they didn’t, “I’ve never been afraid of dad before but that night was different. I couldn’t say anything to him, I just dropped the mug off and ran back upstairs.”

“Did he do that?” Dick was in disbelief. You nodded your head, the image still clear in your mind.

“The next morning he apologized but… I didn’t think I’d ever be in that situation to begin with. I know, I know ever since what happened with Jason he’s been so guarded, so I’m not holding it against him but…” you trailed off. You were so scared that night. “I know it won’t happen again.”

“It won’t, you’re right,” he says. “Maybe…” he hesitates. “Maybe I’ll drop by a bit more, I know Tim’s been training, but maybe it’ll help more if a former Robin helped him out,” Dick says. Your expression seemed to perk up at this.

“You’re coming home?”

“Just visiting,” he says. “Might do Tim some good to have someone other than Alfred and Bruce, right?” He rolls his shoulders out. “Plus, I can tell you miss me,” he nudges your shoulder and you rolled your eyes again.

“I always miss you guys,” you waved it off.

“Aww, oh my god! My sister misses me?” Dick exaggerates and you groan.

“Don’t you dare make me regret coming here!”

“Oh, I am so touched, I could cry,” Dick hides his eyes with his hand before separating his fingers just enough to see your deadpan expression. You shook your head and stood up.

“Thanks, Dick, for hearing me out,” you wiped your palms on your thighs.

“Of course, anything for you, (Y/N),” he smiles.

“I don’t want to bother you anymore-”

“Whoa! You’re leaving already? Let me treat you out first, you came all the way here to Blüdhaven, I can’t let you go home on an empty stomach,” Dick jumps up and walks ahead of you.

“No, it’s okay!”

“(Y/N), Alfred would kill me,” Dick looks back with an inflated look of despair and you laughed.

“You’re right, you’re right, fine! But I get to choose!”

“Keeping up the spoiled persona, I get you.”

"Dick! You're such a..." you stopped yourself and Dick waited with expectant eyes for the punchline. "I'm not gonna say it."

"It was worth a shot," Dick waits for you to catch up and you both left together.

2022

You’re in the manor, but you knew, not really. The details were fuzzy, faceless paintings repeated themselves, and hallways seemed longer than usual. Every time you turned a wrong corner the hallway would loop until you realized that you had to turn around.

This was a dream.

Ever since you’d come to this new Earth, you had this uncanny ability of lucid dreaming. Or, at the very least, you were very conscious in your dreams. You always remembered them after too. But naught without cost. You either had a dreamless night, or you had relentless nightmares. You were already mentally preparing yourself for what you were about to see. If you were in the manor then, you already know, this one would be tough. And it seemed that your dream was guiding you into the foyer, and it landed you in front of the infamous bookcase. You pulled the bust’s head back and pressed the button, watching the bookcase slide forward and to the side. The staircase down was dark, near infinite. You took a deep breath and took a step closer to it.

“(Y/N)? You’re not allowed down there,” you heard a voice behind you say. You turned around and saw a much younger Dick Grayson.

“Why not?”

“It’s dangerous.” He says.

“Why don’t you come with me then?” You caught your reflection on the glass case next to you. You were so little. Your cheeks round with baby fat and your hair tied into twin tails. This was going to be rough.

“I… I wouldn’t be enough, just stay up here, okay? Let’s play a game,” he pulls out a Monopoly set and you shook your head.

“Sorry, Dick, I just want to be done with this.” You shook your head and walked into the darkness, feeling the chill of fear run through you with every step. And finally you reached the bottom, and the cave illuminated. You could hear someone typing on the keyboard. “Dad?” You called out to him and the clacking stopped. You walked further into the cave, until you could see the batcomputer and the looming figure of the Batman sitting in front of it. “I didn’t hear you come home,” you waited for his response. And there was none. “Dad?” You chanced it again. And the Batman turned quickly on the chair.

You were afraid.

You felt your heart pumping and the blood rushing through your veins. That wasn’t your father, no, it was a daemon in the Batsuit, how fucking fitting. And you screamed, you called for help, and you wanted to fall to the ground and cover your ears with how the daemon roared. And when it fell to the ground and started clawing its way toward you it just felt so real, it felt so real that you could feel the tears streaming down your face and your burning throat.

“(Y/N)! Get away!” Your dad. You felt someone pull you back with such force that you nearly flew at that size. And you watched the two Batmen fighting. One, your father, and the other a daemon.

“You!” Another voice now. You were knocked to the ground and you saw… you. She pinned you down with a crazed look in her eyes. “You took everything from me,” her voice dripped with venom and you looked away. She wrapped her hands around your throat and pressed her thumbs against your windpipe. “I’ll kill you.” You gasped for air now and she throttled you. “Give it back. Give it back to me!” You shook your head, and you shut your eyes, trying every trick in the book to wake up. You bit your tongue, you gnawed on your hands, and you even tried doing simple math until finally you shot up from bed.

Taking deep breaths, you clutched onto your heart. Your wounds had been cleaned and bandaged. You looked around the med bay and you wiped the cold sweat from your head. You looked to the side, spotting the scattered tools, and you grabbed the scalpel. You took more deep breaths, the world at your peripherals still fuzzy, and you plunged it into your hand just to be sure you’d woken up and soon you heard a shout next to you.

“Are you crazy?! Give me that!” Jason tugged the scalpel out of your hand and chucked it toward the other side of the room. It looks like he had just woken up too. He slumped back on the chair next to your bed and took deep breaths.

“Jason, what happened?” You watched your hand reattach. Back to normal.

“What happened? You almost got ripped apart, that’s what happened,” he points at your bandages.

“I mean after, Jay.”

“Oh, well,” he shakes the shock off, “after you passed out, Alex came back and helped that other girl wheel you over here to get you patched up. Tim went with Mary, I think her name was, and they started doing stuff with the monster to see why it reacted that way.”

“And Damian?” Jason points at the other side of your bed and you turned your head toward it. Damian had fallen asleep next to you, head resting on his arms that were crossed over the edge of the bed. Wordlessly, you rubbed his hair gently and you turned to Jason. “Talk about a warm welcome,” you repeated. Jason didn’t answer, he was looking down at your hand. “You’re right. It is sick and twisted.” Your hand looked like nothing had happened to it. “Looks like I never stabbed it all, huh?” Your voice was quiet, so as not to wake Damian.

“But those are still there,” he looked at the healed over that encircled your whole wrist.

Your hands were the first to go that night.

You rubbed it softly.

“I don’t like thinking about it.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“I still have nightmares about it,” you tugged the hospital gown up, as if it would hide the scar that encircled your neck. It didn’t.

“Was that the one you had just now?”

“No, that one was… fairly new,” you thought back to it. It wasn’t the first time you’d been attacked by yourself. You figured it was some crazy dream symbolism thing that said you were at odds with yourself, but you weren’t so sure. Jason didn’t need to know about it. “It’s fine,” you shook your head.

“Oh, Captain, you’re up,” the nurse walks in with a clipboard in hand. “That was a nasty bite you had there, but I suspect it’s all been reattached by now, right?” You touched your chest. All good. You nodded your head and the nurse beamed. “Excellent, then, you’d been resting for a while so you should be able to get back to work soon?”

“How long have I been out?”

“It’s been a couple of days, Captain. Sir Grant will drop by and hand you the paperwork you’ve missed.”

“It can’t be that much, can it?” You asked. The nurse just smiles.

“Dr. Bronte ordered you to remain on bed rest for the week, he was very adamant about it,” she says. “So, unfortunately, nothing but paperwork.”

“What?! He knows I reattach, right?!” You shot up from bed and she ushers you back down.

“Yes, of course, but it’s still his orders,” she says. You groaned.

“I see, thank you,” you dismissed her and she saluted before leaving the room.

“So… Captain, huh?” Jason makes conversation. “You have to tell me about that,” he crosses his ankle over his knee and you shook your head with a slight smile.

“It’s boring.”

“Well, not like you’re going anywhere.”

“Rude!”

“I’m serious! I wanna know what you’ve been up to! I thought you hated being a leader.”

“I do.”

“So… why Captain?”

“God, everyone else is incomptent,” you rolled your eyes and Jason laughed.

“That’s more like you, tell me from the beginning.”

“Ugh… well…” You looked up at the ceiling, thinking of where to start. “When I woke up here I was so lost. I was lucky enough to have been brought in by good people, and they showed me how this world worked, but I knew I had to repay them somehow. Luckily for me, one of them was the previous Captain, so he let me train under him and now I’m here. That’s the shortened version,” you explained.

“What? Boring, give me the good one.”

“You’re so annoying!”

“Sure, yeah, now tell me about people you beefed with.”

“Fine.”

2015

You were worried sick, and you stayed up late to wait for your father and Tim to come home, they told you they’d be back in the morning, and now it was nearing midnight, their comms were turned off and their locations unknown, Babs was going near crazy trying to locate them and here you were, waiting in the Batcave like it would do something.

“Dick, what do you think?” You chewed on the tip of your thumb. Your older brother stood by the computer, trying to do anything to locate anything.

“I might send the Titans in after them if they’re not back,” he says. You stood up and looked at the screen. Tim had only recently been inducted in as a Robin, after months and months of training, he finally made it, and this was his first big break mission with your father after he’d saved the others from Two-Face, the first time he was entrusted with an actual mission aside from the Gotham patrols. But… you were worried.

Then, finally, you heard the telltale sign of the plane landing, and you and Dick were quick to run over. Your father emerged first and soon after…

“Tim?” You stepped forward to see him better and… You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, it was the only thing louder than the ringing. There was blood, a lot of it, it caked around his face and on his uniform, and it left footprints where he walked. He spotted you, forcing a smile and a wave.

But the world around you dulled. All conversation was muted to you. Your vision tunneled on Tim, and for some reason all you could see was Jason, head split open by a crowbar and blood pooled around him like you’d seen in all your nightmares, and when you’d blink he’d go back to Tim, bloodied. Then you’d blink again, Jason, you’d blink, Tim. What was this ringing? This fear you felt in your heart? Couldn’t your father have helped clean him up a little on his way here? Couldn’t he have dressed those wounds better? Was the blood even his?

“(Y/N)?” Tim was closer now, you noticed him nursing his side, the wound messily dressed and barely doing the job. You looked at your father.

“Oh, Tim,” your hands rest on his shoulders gently, while you tried to assess the damage. “What happened?” You asked carefully.

“It was rough,” your father shook his head. “Too many variables we didn’t account for, we won’t make that mistake again.”

“Too many variables? Enough to leave Tim like this?” You looked at him. “Let me see it,” you looked at his side.

“It’s okay,” Tim shakes his head.

“Show me,” you insisted. Tim only nodded, removing his hand just enough so you could see the scar through the cut-open uniform. Go figure, the Robin uniform wasn’t fit for a jungle. You looked at your father again, who was looking at Tim. “What happened?”

“Mutated animals, we’re still investigating it, we’ll return in the morning,” he responds.

“In the morning? Look at him! He’s barely holding himself together!” You argued. “Take Dick with you! Tim needs to rest.”

“(Y/N),” Dick spoke up, or had he been speaking?

“He’s fine, (Y/N), we all cleared him for Robin work, this is just collateral,” your father answers.

“Just collateral? He’s not a business, he’s Tim fucking Drake!” You stepped in front of Tim now. “Do you want to go back there?” You looked at him, and he shrank in his shoes. Tim only shook his head, clearly still shaken from the events.

“He’s a Robin, he wanted to be a Robin, trained for it, and now he is it,” Batman argues.

“Christ, dad, he’s thirteen!” You shout.

“Dick was eleven!”

“And look where that got him! He resents you!” You looked to Dick, who sighed and shook his head. He couldn’t answer, because what you said had some truth to it. Everyone knew it.

“Jason was—”

“Jason is dead!” You cut him off, your hands balled at your sides and your throat strained, there was a tense silence in the cave now. “You killed my brother! You killed him and you didn’t even grieve like a normal person, I had to hear from Tim that you were ripping people apart in the ports! That’s horrifying, dad! Why… why are you repeating what happened with Jason?!”

“Take that back!” Batman’s voice rose in a way no one ever heard before.

“And what will you do if Tim is gone? Are you going to go on a killing spree?” You felt like pulling your hair out. “Jason’s gone and you haven’t done shit about it!”

“I’ve done everything to avenge him!”

“Everything to avenge but none to honor!” You stood up taller now, and you looked the Batman in his eye. “The Joker still runs wild, and all you’ve done is train his replacement.”

“You know nothing about what I do for this city!”

“And I don’t want to be part of it,” you could feel your throat burning. “Look at Tim! He could be dead right now and you wouldn’t do anything about it, you said it yourself, it’s just collateral,” you turned his words on him and Batman stepped forward. You stepped back.

“Death… death is part of the job,” Batman responds and your shoulders slumped.

“God… are you even my father when you put that mask on?” You tried to step back, hoping you’d see at least some of your dad in him, but nothing. “If death is so okay with you then I don’t want to be next in line. I will never be a vigilante.”

“What did you say?” Batman spoke up.

“You…” You’re a monster. You couldn’t find it in yourself to say it. “I will never be a vigilante, I want nothing to do with this Batman circus act, especially if you’re so okay with your kids being near killed,” you were running your mouth now, saying everything that came to mind. You just couldn’t think straight, how the hell did your older brothers do it? You would scrape a knee and they’d raise hell, now Tim comes home bleeding head to toe and you want to throttle whoever did this to him. “I don’t know who you even are, anymore, but the Batman I idolized would have never put his sons in these kinds of situations!”

“You don’t know me!”

“I don’t anymore!”

“Don’t pretend you understand this line of business!”

“I’m not! I don’t understand being a vigilante at all!”

“You’ve lived with us your whole life and you still don’t understand?! Gotham needs us!”

“You’re right, Gotham needs you! Not some remote island with mutated animals! Jesus, you could’ve at least given Tim some actual gear!”

“We didn’t account for monsters thrice our size!”

“And you didn’t think to regroup and plan that shit out?!”

“Watch your language!”

“Fuck my language, Tim’s barely together!”

“You’re acting like you know him so well.”

“And you do?! You really think any normal thirteen-year-old would be okay with getting their shit beat out of them!”

“He chose this.”

“He doesn’t have to get ripped apart because of it!”

“You are making a big deal out of—”

“I just don’t want to lose another brother!” Your voice echoed in the cave. You looked back to Tim, whose hands were over his ears now and his eyes shut closed. His bloodied hands dripped down his face and you shook your head, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping most of it from his face. Tim’s eyes opened slowly and his hands moved away so you could clean up at least that much, at least enough to stop seeing the worst possible outcome. And though you felt a rage like none other, you kept your hands steady, you kept them gentle, just enough to try to calm Tim down without saying anything that would make him more scared.

“Why do you even bother, (Y/N)?” You heard Batman speak behind you, and before you could turn back to him, Dick took your shoulders and pushed you away.

“Let’s go, you need to cool off,” he says quietly.

“I need to help Tim!”

“Alfred will help him.”

“In that case someone has to pull Batman back to reality!” You tried to shrug Dick off, but his grip was firm. “Let go, Dick! Don’t pretend you don’t agree with me!”

“Let’s take a walk, (Y/N),” he insists, urging you out of the cave.

“Am I so wrong, Dick?!”

“Let’s go,” he keeps ushering you, “I’ll deal with Bruce.”

“You’ll deal with him?” You pushed away from him, you were just steps away from the outside. “Oh! Right! You’ll deal with him… the prodigal son,” you huffed. “Go figure, the kid he listens to is the one he chose and not the one he had,” you snarked and Dick’s expression steeled.

“Don’t say it like that.”

“But it’s exactly that and you know it,” you shot back. “When dad found out I was a weak kid he picked you up instead to train as his protege.”

“That’s not how it happened and you know it!”

“Try all you want to escape him, you never will.” Dick clenches his jaw, holding back something that probably, no, definitely would’ve destroyed your relationship, and he took a deep breath.

“Let’s go,” his voice was softer as he ushers you out again and you both take a step into the cold. “Take a deep breath, (Y/N).” You did so. Both of you were quiet, looking over the cliffside.

“I’m sorry, Dick,” you said quietly, your voice just barely over the sound of waves hitting the rock around you.

“It’s fine, you’re mad, I get it,” Dick nods. “You never get mad, this is just all that pent-up anger.”

“Yeah…” you took a deep breath again. “How the hell did you two do it?” You asked him. Dick shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Do what?”

“All of it.”

“You know, we came home much worse before.”

“But I never saw it.”

“We didn’t let you.”

“I was so young at the time, I get it.”

“You’re still young now.”

“And he’s younger.” Dick didn’t respond.

“Being a vigilante… it’s not easy work, (Y/N),” he says. “We get battered, bruised, and beaten, but we do it for a good cause. If we don’t do it, then who will?” He asks.

“I know, I understand it when you say it, but I can’t understand him,” you looked at him.

“And I respect that, I do,” Dick nods.

“Who even is he, anymore?” You looked away from him. Again, Dick didn’t respond.

“You were pretty harsh in there, (Y/N),” he says.

“Was I?”

“Jason would be proud,” Dick laughs. You didn’t. “You know Bruce is… he’s on his own train, and we’re just a couple cars behind him,” Dick says. “He has his own way of doing things, he cares in his own way, too. You know he wouldn’t let Tim die, he’s not going to put him in a situation he knew he wouldn’t be able to save him in.”

“I… I think I know that,” you shuddered.

“What happened with Jason was because of a myriad of factors that were out of all our control. It’s no one’s fault,” he looks at you, but you were looking to the city. "(Y/N)? What are you thinking right now?"

"I just..." your voice trailed off and your eyes were still distant. You hadn't realized it, you hadn't really thought of it until now. “I miss my dad.”

2022

“What do you think, Zee? Can you find them?” Dick’s brows furrowed together while Zatanna ran back the camera footage from the cave earlier. They played the footage in slow motion so she could run through every detail.

“What I can definitely say is that it’s 100% magic,” she says. Constantine leans over, eyes squinted.

“Yup, I agree.”

“Can you back off? You smell like alcohol,” Zatanna grimaces.

“Hey, I’m here to help too!”

“I didn’t ask for your help, you were just in the room when Dick asked me to come over and you followed,” Zatanna groaned.

“Contrary to popular belief, I was (Y/N)’s favorite,” Constantine grinned.

“Okay, that’s definitely not true,” Dick frowns.

“It is! I’d do a lil party trick for her every time I saw her when she was a lass,” Constantine defends. Zatanna and Dick share a look of disbelief before they go back to the tapes.

“Well?” Bruce approaches from behind them. “What are we thinking?”

“Aside from the obvious magic?” Constantine lights his cigarette.

“What do you think?” Bruce asks.

“Roll it back a few seconds, Zee, right before the bright light,” Constantine leans against the console, and when Bruce glares at him he straightens again. “Zoom in on the watch.”

“Here, we have a reconstruction of it here,” Dick taps the screen to the side and brings up the holographic image of the watch. Constantine swipes it around while observing the emblem etched onto it.

“The hint is here,” he says while pointing to it. “Trace back this emblem and you’ll find your boys.”

“How do you know for sure?”

“There are very few kinds of magic that you can use on an object like this,” he says. He opens the watch and the watch face deconstructs into layers in the hologram. “And when you look at the make of the watch, it explains much more.”

“Look at the hands, there’s eight of them, and with each hand is a corresponding circle with a different engraving around the circumference,” Zatanna says, “it’s a device used for transport, to put it bluntly. And if the watch hands aren’t set to a certain one, it can be inferred that a device used for transport would have its default settings set to where it’s originally from, so if we trace back the source we’ll be able to find Tim and Jason,” she says.

“What she—” Constantine is cut off by his phone ringing. “Hold on, gotta get this,” he picks it up and walks to a quiet part of the cave.

“Think you can give it a shot?” Dick asks. Zatanna hums.

“Sure,” she shrugs. “Gnirb kcab Mit dna Nosaj!” Though there were sparks, nothing happened. “I didn’t think that would work. Let me try something else. Gnirb em eht hctaw!” In seconds, a bright light forms between her hands and then the sounds of clinks and clatters of watch pieces falling to the ground are heard.

“Oh, great, they broke it,” Dick wasn’t surprised when he picked it up.

“But if there’s residual energy on it then I can trace it,” Dick places the pieces on the console right as Constantine returns.

“Alright, let’s work a deal,” he looks at Bruce. “I help you find your four missing kids if you help me with mine.”

“Tell me more,” Bruce invites him to continue.

“An old protege of mine has been having some trouble with monsters, if you and your detective brains can help him and I figure out what’s going on, Zee and I will help you look for your kids.”

“Hey! Who said I agreed to this?!”

“I thought you had a soft spot for Liverpool,” Constantine shrugs.

“Oh! If it’s him who needs help then by all means,” Zatanna smiles, remembering the younger boy fondly.

“Well, there you have it, should be quick, might end up just being an extermination job, but he won’t stop bitching about it, so what’s the plan?” Bruce and Dick look at each other. They’d been trying for weeks now trying to find a lead of some sort, with Constantine and Zatanna’s help they’d be able to figure it out much faster.

“Fine,” Bruce shakes Constantine’s hand and, at the snap of a finger, a portal opens up next to Constantine.

“Then let’s start our search,” he invites the two to enter first. “You coming, Zee?”

“I’ll follow, I want to study this watch first.”

“Smart move,” Dick says.

“I’ll see you all soon,” she watches the portal close.

The three men land in what looks like a small village. People milled about and kept to themselves while they moved about the streets.

“So where is this protege of yours?” Bruce asks.

“Beats me,” Constantine shrugs.

“What do you mean?!” Dick shouts.

“Might’ve landed in the wrong town,” Constantine looks around. “‘Scuse me, love, which way to the Capital?” He pulls aside a maiden. He cheeks tinge pink before pointing down the road.

“You’ll get there in three days if you walk, hail a cab, they’ll be able to take you there faster,” she says.

“Will do, thanks,” Constantine holds his hand up. “You guys have cash right?”

“Who do you think I am?” Bruce asks. Constantine busies himself looking for a cab while Bruce and Dick stuck together, looking around the village with a hawk’s eye.

“Whoops! Sorry, mister!” A kid accidentally collides into Bruce and runs off. Bruce checks his pockets quickly, feeling everything still inside, and soon the duo notice the grouping of children.

“Wonder what the fuss is about,” Dick stretches slightly to try to see what everyone’s looking at. “Hey, what’s everyone so excited about?” Dick asks one of the newspaper boys.

“You don’t know?” The kid asks.

“Nope,” Dick answers with a shrug.

“Dang, mister, are you living under a rock?!” He hands him a newspaper and Dick skims through it. “The Dark Knight is coming!” Bruce turned his attention to the newspaper kid. “We’ll be saved from the daemons!”

“The Dark Knight?” Dick asks, catching on to Bruce’s attention.

“Duh! Captain Wayne!”

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cas-backwards-tie · 9 months

Text

Chapter Five: Threatened to Reset

Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Heiress of Gotham

Masterlist | Previous Chapter

Summary: With the family's help everything is planned for the big move. A trip to Bludhaven to organize, pack, and move all your belongings leaves the past to be drug up. How will they react to your home? Will any secrets be found? Will emotions rise? Will your past be disclosed? It's all up to you... and maybe a crime boss and his goons.

Words: 4.3k

Warnings: The usual Banter and Bickering, Cursing, Knives, Threatening, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Arguing, Fighting, Shame, Guilt, Fight or Flight.

Mentions of: Sex Trafficking, Criminal Activities, Police, Drug Busts, Prostitution, Assassins.

A/N: There's a lot of information to digest in the chapter, and really what was meant to be one chapters I actually am going to have to split up in order to make them manageable. It's been awhile, and while I'm still trying to figure out how to manage my life in the sense of hobbies, work, my health, a possible second job, and extracurriculars, I request you all be patient with me. I definitely do have more in store, yet for now this chapter isn't proofread (at least the beginning and end) I just need to get this one out.

Having discussed tomorrow’s events as a group at dinner, your Father let you lead the charge in what would happen with your apartment’s belongings. Decided on packing everything up and either donating the things you don’t need, storing the important things, and transporting the things you do need, it all was simple enough. Nothing a little packing tape and rounds of boxes won’t fix.

Starting the day with a hearty breakfast from Alfred, you all packed into a minivan you didn't know or think the Bruce Wayne would ever own or have anything to do with. Nevertheless, the ride was fairly timely to get to your old apartment building. Saying hello to the few neighbors coming in and out who you recognized and knew, you led the gang the seventeen flights and begrudgingly let them inside. You knew sooner or later they'd out where and how you lived. It definitely isn't as nice as Wayne Manor, but of course, what else could you expect?

Assigning everyone to different spots and or groups of items in the apartment, you really feel like they went for overkill. A welcoming and slightly overwhelming sense of love blossoms in your chest as they really didn't all need to help, but everyone insisted on coming. Even Tim's girlfriend, Stephanie. How nice, you think, for someone to actually care that much to go out of their way. Family almost congesting the apartment, you focus on your room and belongings. The fact that Damian hasn't even made any rude remarks (that you know of) is surprising.

After almost everything is packed and it's a few hours past noon, Alfred gets tired. Damian insists he's spent enough time in this 'hellhole' and almost demands that Alfred take him home. With the time having gotten away from you and some of the others, it seems to no one's surprise that Tim and Stephanie also apologetically explain their need to leave. They have homework they need to get done; and with that, Alfred agrees that it might be best to head back to the Manor with everyone who needs to leave. Dick lives in Bludhaven, so there's no surprise he'd stay, and while Jason has his motorcycle, he says he doesn't mind staying until it's all finished. Bruce having come separately after checking in at work explains that the two of you can drive back together once everything's done. It'd been lucky enough that he'd brought his car, and not one of the nicer ones, either.

Searching all the nearby boxes, you don’t find it. It’s nowhere to be seen, and if it’s not here then that can only mean one thing: They took it. Opening up the box near the kitchen you retrieve a butcher’s knife. Hand gripping the handle tightly you storm to the front door and lock it.

“Woah, woah- what’s going on?” Jason asks, hands raising in concern as he stops boxing the books that’d been on the nearby shelf.

With a tense look in his eyes, you adjust the knife in your palm, getting a better and more sturdy grip on it. Other hand rising to your mouth you place your pointer finger before your lips. A tacit command of ‘silence’. Jason’s fear had drawn the attention of the other two, though you ignore them as you quickly storm through the living room and down the hall.

Eyes flitting back and forth out the window, up and down the fire escape you quickly return with the same fervor you’d previously held. “Why do you have a knife?” Dick questions.

Back to the front door, you simultaneously listen to the hallway, hoping that if anyone were to come, you’d hear them first and be ready. In the attempt at a raid via bursting in through the door, at least you’ll be the first one in the line of fire able to protect everyone. While the worst case scenario always pops into your mind first, you’re not oblivious to the measly chance this could simply chalk up to coincidence. Holding out the knife, you point to each man in the room as your gaze shifts between them.

“Look. There was a gun in there last time we were here. It’s always there. If none of you have seen it, let alone packed it away… then we have a big problem,” you reveal. Knife pointed in the direction of the safe that's now open within a drawer of the tv stand, it's clear that everything else has been packed away.

Between the couch and television diagonally to your left stands Dick. Hands raised, he holds a stoic expression as he stands closest to the safe. His blue eyes flit to Jason. Knife shifting toward him, he too stands with his hands by his waist, palms facing you. Eyes filled with confusion and concern, he shifts his weight as he stands across the room in the corner between the kitchen's counter and beside the opening to the hallway. His green eyes shift to Bruce.

Before you can even turn the knife on the man closest to you, diagonally standing in the kitchen opening to your right, someone speaks up. “I took it,” Jason announces. All eyes dart to him and you watch as he slowly starts to reach around his back towards his waistband. Out of the corner of your eye you spot Bruce move.

“Don’t!” You warn, stepping back and pointing the knife at him. He’s not going to disarm you. Eyes back on Jason, you motion with the knife for him to place the produced gun onto the table between you two. Gun dangling from his fingers, he doesn’t move, so you gesture again with more of a ferocity this time. “Put it on the table.” It’s a command, not a request.

He slides it across the table. Three steps close the distance between you and the item. Though Bruce could easily do something behind your back, just out of your peripheral vision now, you focus on the task at hand. One look at the gun has you skeptical; face tense, you use the knife to turn the gun around. The examination is short. One flip of the gun onto its other side and a quick lift into your hands to make sure the safety is on, you release the bullet cartridge to find that one bullet is missing. With a click of the cartridge locking back into place, you toss it back onto the table.

Storming back to the door where you're at a far enough distance from all of them, your forearms rest against the splintering wood, face buried within them for a moment to gather yourself. Slowly turning back toward the men, but more specifically Jason, you glare daggers at him. “Why didn’t you just tell me you had the gun when I first mentioned it missing,” not waiting for an answer, your head tilts a bit as you don’t play his game. “Nevertheless, did you really think I’d be stupid enough to not recognize that that’s an entirely different gun? So what’s your game?”

Silence lingers. Jason knows he’s fucked, and they all know it too. Why did he think she’d fall for that? It was worth a shot, sure, but the real gun is still back at the Batcave. However, she can’t know that. “There’s no game,” Bruce says your name, a sincere look in his eyes.

“I wasn’t asking you,” you bark, knife turning on him as he tries again to take a step closer. His hands are still raised in an attempt to de-escalate the situation.

The silence is expected, however, the smile that creepily inches across your lips is not. A shift of the knife in your palm has you gripping the handle in an underhanded approach, ready to stab, rather than slice. “Ha,” you scoff, “I knew it… too good to be true. I can respect the lengths he’ll go to play his little games, but this is just beyond fucked. A ploy to what? Fuck with me, pretend to be my family, and now what? Kill me? I knew it. After yesterday, I just knew it was coming.”

“What are you talking about?” Jason asks incredulously, a hint of anger and fear within his tone.

“Who?” Dick asks coldly, taking a step closer.

“Antonio Marin?” Bruce asks. Eyes darting to meet his, you shift the knife in your palm again to get a better grip on it.

“Oh, you wanna play it this way? Act all fucking coy and innocent now?” Gears shifting, you eye the other two men. “Unless he’s just another victim to his plan, I don’t buy it. Richest man in the world and he’s a good guy? Yeah? No.”

“Should’ve known,” you sigh, shaking your head. “BPD? Too obvious.” With a sad smile and tears beginning to threaten your eyes, you chuckle. “Well if he wants me, then go ahead. I’ve got nothing left. If I’m the last piece to the puzzle then do it. Kill me. It’s three to one, I know you’ve got a gun and more than enough bullets to take me.” You thump your chest with your free hand, open, ready to accept your fate. “Do it! Shoot me, Jason. Right now! Kill me.”

As if the reality of the situation suddenly dawns on you, fear readily replaces the confidence you’d just boasted. Backing up against the door you shift the knife in your hand to a stabbing position again, as you continue to shift it, unsure which approach will be best in your defense. Suddenly you're terrified of what’s to come. “No… no. Three big men on one teenage girl?” The way Jason had hesitated, it’s apparent. “I knew he was expanding the business, but like this? NO.” Chest heaving with rapid breaths, you’re suddenly running on pure adrenaline. Panic sets in as you know what the man's got planned for you. “If you want me then I’m not going down alone. I’ll kill myself before I let that happen to me- and if that doesn’t work then I’ll mangle myself SO badly that nobody will buy me,” you threaten, voice deepening in a terrifyingly chilling way.

Placing the knife against your neck, you’re more than ready to take yourself off the table. You won’t let that happen to yourself. You won’t let anyone take advantage of you that way. A punishment worse than death is something you're not willing to participate in, nor offer.

Dick calls your name in a calm tone, one far too calm for this situation. “This isn’t any ploy, or game. We don’t work for anyone. If you think someone’s after you, you need to tell us. We can’t help you if we don’t know what’s going on.”

“Oh,” you relinquish too easily, knife falling back to your side. Turning to face the door your eyes settle against it for a moment before spinning back to face the man. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that Officer Grayson from the BPD was here! I’ll just tell you everything so you can either arrest me or take me out on his behalf!” With a step toward him, you raise the knife by your side again. “Do you really think I’m that stupid, Grayson? That I wouldn’t realize you’d try to get a confession out of me, record this- have them take a voice memo? This isn’t my first rodeo.”

"It's not like that. We're just trying to help! You can't seriously believe this is all some conspiracy against you," Dick argues. His voice is still calm, and while the raised brow elicits a begrudging irk and prick of paranoia in your mind, his words do nothing but continue to cause the gears to mentally turn. "If someone wanted to take you out there would've been easier methods. You would've been dead weeks ago."

A wry chuckle leaves your lips, a knowing smile still set on your features as you two stand off with one another. "Sure... if it was anyone else. Yet that's not how he plays his game and you know it."

"You still think I'm corrupt?" Dick asks, shifting his weight to lean into his hip on one side.

"How could you not be?! Look at me and tell me that you're not! That you don't know about Perdy Chapman, or any of the sabotage the BPD plays," you demand.

"I know about the sabotage. I don't know about Perdy Chapman, but if you know something," he recites your name, "you have to tell us. I can't do anything or help anyone if everyone's keeping secrets."

"What? So this is all a loyalty test? An attempt to get me to come back? There's no way he's that desperate."

"Come back? You worked for Antonio Marin?" Bruce pipes up, concerned blue eyes turning on you as he shifts his gaze between you and Dick. Hands still up in surrender, he takes a step towards you.

"Quit fucking with me! If this is because he thinks I'll rat, I won't! I'm not a fucking rat. We got out, we left! We don't owe him anything!"

"If you know where he is you need to tell us," Jason voices his concern, also taking a step closer. "No one is taking you back, no one is gonna hurt you. I'll be damned before that happens." Jason whispers your name, garnering your attention as he gives you a serious look, "If you think he's after you, we need to know. We can't help you if we don't know what's going on."

With a stomp and a slash of the knife by your side as you realize they're right, you won't do this without a stipulation. "Fine! But... I can't go to the cops. I can't... file a report. I can't do anything. Promise me-" you respond, voice starting off confident until his falls short of a whisper. Jason nods, starting to close the space as he pulls out the last chair remaining at the dinner table.

"No cops, you got it. Just... tell us what happened, what's going on," Jason concedes, hand settled on the back of the chair.

As you shake your head in decline toward the chair, Jason easily swivels it around and sits on his backward, attention on you. As you place the knife on the side table by the front door, you start to pace. "I... don't know where to start," you voice your thoughts.

"From the beginning," Dick encourages, voice gentle as he realizes Jason has made progress by building a rapport. Something he hadn't realized he could be making more of an effort towards, he supposes. Even if he already feels like he's done more than he can for the girl.

As the Detective sits on the back of the couch and Bruce leans against the wall, your eyes can't help but find his... your Father's. "I... I can't-" you realize. Steps coming to a halt, you find yourself face to face with the last person in your life who you feel like you can't lose. The only person you need to impress, to suck up to.

"This is important," Bruce says your name, head tilting further downward as he offers a more straight-on look with your height differences, not to mention the sympathetic look that cross his features.

Eyes falling to the floor, you shake your head. "I can't. I don't want you to look at me differently, and I know you will. There's no way you can't." It's a warning, a vague divulgence on the subject matter. There's no way this conversation can happen without someone's impression being changed or shifted. It's just not possible.

"That won't happen," Bruce reassures.

"There's no way it can't happen. You don't know!" You argue, hands gesticulating the emphasis of your seriousness.

"This is your safety we're talking about," Jason reminds.

"We all have pasts," Dick reiterates your name, "we've all done things. It won't change anything."

"I promise," Bruce adds on, following up with Dick's words. Crouching to be on your level, he holds out his pinky, and while part of you hesitates, the seriousness in his eyes begs for a piece of trust. An inkling of hope, sincerity, vulnerability, trust. Wrapping your much smaller pinky around his, you shake on it.

As he lets go and returns to leaning against the wall, they all sit in anticipation, waiting for you to speak. "From the beginning?" You question.

"From the beginning," Dick echoes again, trying his hardest to be patient. With a tacit gesture of his hand, he guides you to sit on the couch cushions. Despite his offer, you choose to sit on the floor in front of the couch, back leant up against it as Dick chooses to sit in the armchair to the left of it. Jason comes closer, perching himself on the edge of the tv stand, while Bruce lingers by the back of the couch to your right, still in your periphery.

"It... all started about, I don't know, two years ago?" Jason nods in encouragement, a sign for you to keep going. "I don't- I don't know exactly when, I can't really place a time or say because I didn't know- I didn't- I never thought- I mean," the words tumble from your lips as your thoughts begin to race with the memories. Heart beating faster, there was never a definitive point in time you could place. "He just... started coming over. After-" swallowing the thick lump that forms in your throat, the faint burning sensation of tears threatening to start welling up becomes real. "-Mom got laid off."

"Mhm," Dick hums, hands clasping in his lap as he expresses the fact that he's listening.

"Everyone knew who he was. We all do, but of course, you're nice to people you don't necessarily know. You don't wanna start any problems. I guess Mama met him one night when she was out with my Tia. He said he could get her job back, that he could help her make money again, that we wouldn't have to move, to get evicted. He'd get her job back. So he did. She didn't ask, she didn't even want her job back after everything they said and did to her, firing her just because of her skin- but... he did it anyways. He got her job back at the hospital and even got her a promotion. How? I never asked, but if you know Marin, then I guess you can imagine how."

"Then he told her she owed him," Bruce speaks up as you take a breath. His tone is definitive, certain, as if he knows. A shake of your head lets him know he's wrong.

"Of course, she went back to see him at the same bar. She thanked him, we all did... but that wasn't the end of it. He said if she ever wanted anything more, a side job, extra money, anything else, that he could give her that. That all she need do is ask." A sigh escapes your lips and you subtly shake your head again. you know you'll have to tell them. It'll get there eventually, yet there's no way of knowing how they'll react. "They became friends. I always thought he liked her, that's why he was so nice."

"But he showed his true colors, didn't he?" Jason comments, a dangerous and almost vengeful tone in his voice as he leans forward so his elbows rest on his knees. His hands curl in and out of fists as he listens.

"No... he was... just nice." Finally looking up to meet their eyes, you gauge the room. Each man has a different expression on his face, looks of curiosity, intrigue, suspicion, and anger all around. "He'd be at the parties, come over, take us out, have a drink. He became a part of the circle, at least... for a while. I think it all changed when Mama said no to him. He asked her out, and she finally understood why he'd been so nice to her. Yet, that didn't change anything. Being friends, he was still coming around. Maybe he was doing more, becoming more distant, but not much changed. He kept offering, and offering, and eventually I think she figured if she had control, and it was something he'd offer, then how could it hurt? It was only after that year and once the gifts died down that, well..."

"What?" Jason raises his eyes again to meet yours as he'd been mulling over his own thoughts for a moment, head in hands. A chuckle shakes his chest subtly as his hands shoot out in gesticulation. "You can't just say 'after that, well...' and not finish the story!"

"Come on, Jase-" Bruce gently reprimands with a look.

"It's clear there's more," Dick interrupts his Father to address you, still in the position he'd been in. Eyes intent on your figure as he waits for an answer, a scowl on his lips.

"I finally asked him if there was any way I could do something. Something small to make money; like mow someone's lawn, pet-sitting, house-sitting... things like that." Eyes falling to the pilled carpet by your sock-clad feet, you pick at the fluffy brown fabric. "I had school. My mom would hate me if she knew I asked him, but everyone else was getting money, and I figured if he was like my Uncle or Dad it's normal to ask for those things... I think." Hair falling over your shoulders, it masks your face as you rush to get the rest of the story out.

"He... had me do jobs for him. It was easy. Deliver presents, bouquets, envelopes, packages, things like that. No problem, lots of people do that, right? But I was making at least a hundred every week, if not more, and, and I didn't think about it. It was easy money! I could buy whatever I wanted, I could save, I could spoil my friends, my mom... I never thought about it until I... got curious." Words trailing off, you risk a glance up at Dick. Tucking your bangs behind your ear, his expression is immovable. He's stoic; a pickup of heartrate leaves you anxious as you haven't been able to easily read him like many of the others.

The movement of Jason's lips slowly opening garners your attention, and as his eyes widen you quickly duck your head back down again. "You were..." he tests the waters.

"So one day I decided to stay. They never opened their packages in my vicinity. Never opened the presents, envelopes, packages, or undid the bouquet. It didn't feel right. I haven't gotten many presents in my life, but I'd think if I got a big one like those, I'd open it right away... see what it is." Continuing with your story, you didn't give Jason even half a fraction of time to finish his thoughts. "So I delivered the package like normal, watched them count out the money and hand it over before I was on my way. Around the corner, I was halfway down the block when I realized I could probably wait it out, hide somewhere across the street and watch them from one of the store windows. They wouldn't notice. I could just put on my hood, if anything, and... well, then it-" eyes shifting back up to Dick, you don't look away this time, "-it happened."

"I hadn't realized it but parked on the opposite side of the road and right by me out of sight from where I'd come there were cop cars parked. Cops lined up with their guns pulled, batons and riot shields ready. I froze..." At this moment it seems like the gears in Dick's mind are finally starting to turn and place things together. "I thought I was caught, for something I only suspected, but... within seconds the cops were ushering me out of the area while the second team were busting the gang of boys I'd come from for having drugs."

"They were using you," Bruce states, an air of sympathy encased in his word choice.

"You were a mule f-" Jason affirms.

"-But that wasn't the end of it," Dick says confidently, his dark blue eyes still set on you, unmoving, a quirked brow joining his visage. "You said you're out. So if that's true then how'd that happen?" He asks, finally shifting in his seat as his head slightly tilts. It's almost as if he's testing you. "Exactly," he clarifies.

"Once I realized what was happening I ran home. I-" jaw clenching, your eyebrows furrow as you don't want to have to admit this. Especially not when Dick looks so confident and arrogant. You know he'd seen you that day, just like you knew you'd seen him. A silent staring match follows,a few seconds, before your resolve crumbles upon the memories. "I told my mom. I was crying, and she was shocked and surprised and angry and mad and I didn't know what to do! I didn't know where to go or who to tell, and I knew she'd be mad but she said she wasn't mad at me, but at him and that it was okay because she was gonna get us out of it. We met up with Anto- with- with Marin," you correct yourself. "We demanded out, and... he let us go. He said we were free to go as long as we didn't say or do anything that went against him. MY mom didn't want us involved with him anymore."

"He just 'let you go'?" Dick reiterates.

"Yes. That's it," you reveal, a shrug following as you don't bother to make eye contact. "Now you know!" The revelation leaves you upset and unaware of anyone else's responses. You just know that this changes everything, now that they know... they know that you're a bad person. You dealt drugs. You worked for a mobster. A gangster, a criminal; you stocked up drug money, saving it, keeping it. Blood money, one could even claim in earnest... and you couldn't argue with them.

~~~~~~~~

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