#i thought it was pretty obvious Bruce

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Request idea:

Your darling, adoring, wonderful boyfriend Jason sits you down And solemnly confesses that he is red hood. He’s been dreading this day for months. If you want to leave, he’ll understand and wait—-

WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU KNEW THE WHOLE TIME?

Jason thinks he’s in an angst fic. The reader is in a rom com where her boyfriend has been a ridiculously obvious superhero, but she’ll let him tell her when he’s ready.

Maybe some shaningany flashbacks where you’ve helped to keep his identity secret (stalling so he can change, giving alibis) while he was oblivious.

- Batchilla

To Wait and To Love

Hi Batchilla! Hope you enjoy! ♡ ~1.5k words

Your boyfriend is a vigilante, Red Hood, to be exact. You know this. He's just not aware you know this.

It's obvious, really, and kind of cute the way he makes excuses to leave. Sure, before you put two and two together, it was starting to seem like he was just dragging you along. But it all made sense when you caught sight of the helmet poorly concealed under his bed.

It makes you wonder if he wants to get caught. Especially when he brings you flowers from the shop you just saw him save from Poison Ivy on TV. Or freezer-burnt cartons of ice cream from your favorite ice cream shop, which was buried under piles of snow courtesy of one Mr. Freeze only twenty minutes ago.

You offer him big smiles and kisses of thanks, and your heart melts a little at how relieved he looks, how baffled he is by your understanding. And you do understand. To tell someone you run around in spandex and leather every night is a big risk, especially for someone who used to run crime in Gotham.

You're no angel yourself, even if he does call you one, and it's endearing to watch him scramble for excuses. It's even more endearing that he tries so hard to make it up to you when he's late, when he has to leave early, when he comes back battered and bruised with flimsy half-thought out explanations.

You'll let him take all the time he needs to tell you, and it's almost funny how easily you've come to cover for him.

"Jason? Oh, he's changing his suit. Someone knocked into me and I spilled my drink all over his jacket. How embarrassing," You laugh out, answering the reporter's question over Jason's absence from the latest Wayne Gala. It's only half a lie, you might not have spilled your drink but he's definitely changing his suit. It's just not the suit anyone would expect.

Once whispers of a break-in at Gotham National Bank started circulating the Gala, it wasn't hard to miss the meaningful glances between your boyfriend and his family. Sometimes you wonder how no one's noticed it before.

You smile brightly at him once he comes back, smelling like gunpowder and leather, and you let him kiss your knuckles while he mumbles apologies over getting caught up with an old friend. You don't imagine Riddler is exactly an old friend, but you teasingly tell him how he owes you a dance for making you wait. He smiles back, his own grin even brighter than yours, as he leads you to the dance floor.

You're opening the door to your apartment, chatting lazily with your friend after a night out.

"Is your boyfriend here? I remember you saying you two were practically living together," they ask, eyes trailing around your living space.

You hum thoughtfully, "We pretty much are. I think he might be sleeping or out looking for the stray cat we saw the other day. It had a bad limp." It's not a hundred percent a lie either, there was a hurt stray. You just know that Catwomen already picked it up, after a text Jason sent to Bruce Wayne's current girlfriend, Miss. Selena Kyle. Which would have been more of a surprise if you didn't already know who Batman was.

But it definitely isn't the truth, because you did catch sight of a red helmet following you and your friend back from the club. (Gotham never felt safer, than when he was watching over you.)

Your friend coos and starts to respond, when a thump sounds from the fire escape. They jolt, "What was that?"

"The cat, probably," You say quickly, letting out a laugh, "it's, uh, pretty big. Has a limp. Hey, did I show you the flowers Jason got me?" You gesture towards the bouquet behind them, and you both focus on the pretty blossoms.

Within minutes, you hear your bedroom door open and close. "Hi, baby," Jason drawls, looping an arm around your waist to pull you to his side, "Sorry, I fell asleep, how was your night?"

You pretend not to notice the limp he's nursing, one you're certain he should be resting, and tilt your head up to kiss his jaw, "It was fun. Missed you."

"I missed you too," he echoes fondly, and the three of you fall into an easy conversation. You distract your friend when you all go to sit on the couch, and if you choose to avoid sitting on his left side, it's certainly not because Red Hood hurt his leg fighting Killer Croc earlier this week.

Jason has never said your name like that before. His eyebrows are knitted together. He's kneeling in front of you, his hands clasped over yours as you sit on the bed.

"I love you and I– I have something to tell you," he chokes out, strained, "please, just– just, hear me out."

It clicks. This is it. He's going to tell you.

You smile and nod, it'll be nice to finally air out this secret. And maybe he could help you work on your excuses? It'll be easier if you're working as a team. You reach out and brush his hair back, unfazed and delighted he's trusting you enough with this, "Of course, Jason. Anything you need to tell me."

Jason is going to throw up. He's finally gotten his act together enough that he's going to tell his partner he's Red Hood. His stomach is churning, it's agony, knowing he could lose them over this.

They're so good to him. So understanding and patient and kind. He has no idea how he got so lucky. And he loves them. It's scary sometimes, how much he loves them. He wants this to last so badly. So, he has to be honest. Has to tell them he isn't what the world says he is.

He's a vigilante. Was a crime lord. He hurts people to save people. He terrifies the trash that calls themselves human. He's not good for you, but he tries. He wants you to still love him.

He wants you to stay so much. Even if he's not good. He wants you. You deserve so much more than the excuses and lies he gives. Jason's wanted to tell you for weeks, but he chokes on his words every time. He's never been so afraid of doing something. Not when he was a kid on the streets. Not when he was Robin. Not as Red Hood.

You look so perfect, sitting at the edge of your bed and smiling at him. He almost flinches when he thinks this could be the last time you smile at him.

He's on his knees. He's prepared to beg. He would beg to keep you.

He says your name, he tells you he loves you. It might be the last time he gets to say that to you. The thought makes him even more nauseous. He tells you he has something to say.

You brush his hair back and keep smiling. He wants to sob. You don't know. You don't know what he is, what he's done.

"I'm Red Hood," he gasps out, voice ragged.

A beat. You're still smiling, you still look happy, and you're nodding at him.

He blinks at you, "I'm Red Hood," he repeats, "I know that- I know it's a lot. I understand if you never want to see me again, but, baby–"

You lean forward and kiss him. He's more than just a little dumbfounded. "Jason, I love you too. I'm not leaving you. I, um, kind of already knew you were Red Hood?" You say, a sheepish smile coming over your face.

"You– what?" Jason stumbles out. You're still here. Still touching him. You kissed him. You look relaxed. Happy.

"I saw your helmet under the bed. Everything clicked after that," You tell him gently.

"And you're okay with that? You're okay with me?" He asks, tone betraying his desperation.

Concern flashes in your eyes, "Of course I'm okay– I'm more than okay with that, Jason. I love you, tights or not."

He lets out a laugh, and his stomach swoops, the tension dissipating throughout his body, "Yeah?"

You grin at him, cupping his face, "Yeah, but you're going to have to show me how you swing around rooftops."

He gets off his knees to kiss you again, he doesn't think this moment could get any better, "Is that all?"

You giggle, at the pure elation in his eyes, and he grins widely at your joy. Then, the moment does get better, "Well, I'm kinda interested in the car Batman drives around you."

"I could make that happen," he murmurs, and seals the promise with another kiss, "You wanna see the batplane too?"

Your eyes light up, and Jason thinks he might be addicted to the mischievous glint that flickers in your gaze.

[l0vergirls]

now that the yandere!batfam has surveillance on you pretty much 24/7, you're taken care of almost everyday. not that you know of, of course.

it took some time getting used to the flowers being delivered to you every couple weeks, but you did appreciate the food getting delivered when you didn't have enough in your fridge.

you're fully aware that the person (or people) sending these to you could be dangerous, but you tried to rationalise it. they apparently already have your address, so if they wanted you dead then they could've finished the job by now.

besides, what harm can a few flowers bring? aside from complete invasion of your privacy through the form of tiny surveillance microphones (which, again, you did not know of).

sometimes, you'd find affectionately written letters. well, letters is an overstatement, they're more similar to notes. the men knew not to leave too many clues that could give them away. they're nothing if not very thorough.

"eat your dinner, beloved. i know it is your favourite."

in elegant handwriting— sharp cursive. very slightly italicised.

"keep smiling, sunshine."

this one was still neatly written in print, but softer and rounder than the last note.

"good luck on your presentation today, y/n."

messier, almost rushed, but not what you'd call chicken scratch. familiar.

"hope you're taking care of yourself, beautiful."

this person had neater handwriting than the last two, though not as elegant as the first note. it seemed gentle, as if the person writing had much respect for the pen and paper.

if not flowers or food, they're small thoughtful gifts.

you'd once found a book on your nightstand; a book that you've been eyeing for the past week or so, but restrained yourself from getting as you've been saving up recently.

it had another small note attached to it, "here, you deserve it."

you should be scared— terrified, even. you should be reporting this to the cops, but what good are gotham's cops anyway?

at some point, you started finding these notes endearing. it's obvious they wouldn't do anything to you, at least not yet, so why stop them? not that you could, if you tried.

these strangers, you've come to realise, are simply looking out for you. taking care of you, when you forget to do it yourself.

the boys, whether through your window or through their cameras, would find you smiling to yourself when you receive one of their gifts.

it only motivates them to do more.

another yandere batfam installment woooop !!! can you guess which boy wrote which note? :⁠^⁠) p.s bruce hadn't left you a note this time ^^" sorry :⁠,⁠-⁠)

[gilverrwrites]

Fake Dating tropes with (some of) the birds and the bats. Ft. Babs, Bruce, Dick, Duke, Jason, Kate, and Tim.

GN!Reader, ≈200-250 words each CWs: None graphic mentions of sex, none-graphic injuries, none -graphic mentions of drugs, intentionally minipulative behaviours.🩷

Barbara

The two of you weren’t exactly not dating. Attached at the hip, making goo-goo eyes in person and inappropriate comments over the comms line when apart; it was obvious to anyone with eyes or ears that something was going on there, you just hadn’t put a name on it yet. It’s something the two of you had made plans to nail down and discuss during your sort of but not really a date-date tonight.

But you had only gone and got yourself shot during what should have been a simple trip to the bank. It wasn’t life-threatening, but you’d been rushed off in an ambulance, you’d need surgery, a lot of meds, and months, if not years of physio to get your arms back into shape.

Barbara didn’t know that at the time though, she’d been panic-stricken from the moment she found out. Emotions getting the better of her, brain running at 100 miles a minute as she rushed to the hospital.

“Partners and family only.” The nurse had told her. And without hesitation, she’d responded: “I am their partner.”

Her lie paid off, allowing her access to your bedside, as well as a full update on your status. There wasn’t another face in any universe you would have rather seen upon waking up from surgery. Now you just had to keep up the appearance of being a married couple until you were discharged, maybe longer.

Bruce

It’s a well-organised and thoroughly thought-out publicity stunt. Bruce needed someone new on his playboy roster, and you needed the media to circulate literally anything other than the less-than-flattering leaks that had been sold to them without your consent.

All you had to do was follow the itinerary. A couple of soft launch social media pics, a few whispers to the looser-lipped socialites of your circles, and some ‘private’ candid photo ops of the two of you dating:

Snuggling under the shade of an oak tree in Gotham Park, wearing matching caps and sunglasses that do little to hide your identities as you read a shared copy of Romeo and Juliet together.

Sitting in his car, in the parking lot of Big Belly Burger, munching on an unseemly large order of burgers and fries together. Nobody questions why the previously tinted windows of Bruce’s car are now clear.

Intimately and provocatively embracing, tastefully half nude on the balcony of your uptown apartment. The press didn’t need to know that you’re actually renting an Airbnb for the weekend, for exactly this purpose, and nothing more.

Everything was carefully planned, right down to the T for maximum impact and minimal effort. The only thing that hadn’t been accounted for was one, or both of you catching feelings in the time you’d spent together.

Dick

He’s never been able to say no to you, you know it, he knows it. So when you ask him in an act of desperation to be your fake-boyfriend for your ex’s wedding he’s quick to inform you that this is the dumbest idea he’s ever heard, and that he’s 110% on board.

He takes you shopping for matching outfits, picks you up on the day in Bruce’s flashiest car, suprises you with something pretty, compliments you loudly and romantically at every chance and won’t take his hands off you all the way through the ceremony. He's attentive and outwardly passionate. Not only is he playing the role of the world's best-ever (fake-)boyfriend, he’s making sure everyone in the vicinity knows you’re a (fake) couple.

It’s during the reception when that funny feeling really starts to settle in. The hairs on edge, butterflies in your belly feeling. Maybe it’s the happy, romantic atmosphere, the soppy music, the way his hands sit so perfectly on your hips as he sways you round and around on the dance floor. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you with those mesmeric blue eyes but damn if you don’t want to kiss him, right here, right now.

Duke

It was a stupid idea, and his family would give him so much shit if when they found out, but you’d argued that “we’ll never know if it might actually work unless we try” and that had sold him on giving it a go. Even if he thought about calling it off at every turn.

What was the stupid plan, and why was it necessary? Well, your ex was dating his crush, and you’d figured fake-dating might redirect their attention to the two of you. And if not, no harm done, right?

Big harm done. Over the next few months, Duke and yourself had spent most of your free time in close proximity. Sharing clothes, food, and ‘plan-related’ intimate details about each other. When you weren’t together you were glued to your phone, awaiting his texts, refreshing his socials.

Somewhere amongst all the dinner dates, and ‘strictly-business’ public making out sessions, your plan worked; his crush took notice, how could they not, Duke was perfect.

Your ex did not. Not that you cared, you’d moved on, to someone who was about to become equally as unavailable.

Jason

He was trying to infiltrate an infamous drug ring so he could take it down from the inside and needed someone in the know who could double as arm candy to sell his story. You’d already been trying to get your foot in the door for weeks now, but lacked enough street cred for them to take a chance on you. It only made sense that you would join forces.

For a while it’s fun, hanging off his arm, letting his hands roam your body freely, loud-whispering all the things you wanted to do to him for anyone to hear. You really enjoyed pretending to be his devilish trophy partner. You enjoyed the nights where it wasn’t pretend even more. But all good things must come to an end.

He served his purpose of getting you where you needed to be, but now he was getting a little too close to building a compelling case against the ring, you couldn’t let that happen, you had much bigger plans for it.

What? You’d promised information, not loyalty.

Kate

You’re both socialites with fairly large internet followings who run in the same circles. Your relationship has always been that of friendly acquaintances until a photographer snaps an innocuous photo of you both entering the bathroom at the same time and the media goes crazy.

Despite putting out very clear, separate statements, clarifying that there is nothing going on, your respective followers grab the ball and sprint with it until you both innocently start to play along. Leaving flirty comments on each other selfies, acting appalled when the other is rumoured to be dating someone else, tagging each other in scenic snaps that could be considered romantic: graffiti hearts, colourful sunsets, starry skies from the candlelit table of a wine bar.

It’s completely harmless of course, it’s all a joke, until it’s not. Until you actually find yourself flustered by her comments, really wishing she was sharing your dinners, until you brace yourself and send the first DM.

Tim

He really is the whole package. Handsome, hardworking, dedicated, polite, and as smart as he is rich. You can understand why your grandma was so excited, calling you from across the country to confirm if you were the mystery person spotted out and about with Bruce Wayne’s second youngest. You hadn’t lied when you’d said yes, you’d just neglected to tell her that you were only friends. You figured it would get her off your back about finding a nice boy for a while. It kind of felt nice, talking to somebody other than yourself about your big fat crush on him and in your defence, you hadn’t expected things to escalate so quickly.

One minute she’s bragging about her grandchild’s new boyfriend to the ladies in her swim aerobics class, the next she’s booked a flight to come and visit so she can meet him.

If you’d known what she was planning you would have confessed, but she’d already forked out the cash for her plane ticket so you swallowed your pride and begged Tim to help. He wouldn’t even have to do much, just spend the weekend nodding and smiling at an old woman’s stories and then he could reap the rewards of your eternal gratitude. You’d promised 6 months of undisputed lording it over you and a lifetime of freshly made cold brew.

Smile and nod, that’s all you expect, but apparently, that was too easy. Tim just had to make what was already an embarrassing situation, a million times worse. ‘Perfect grandson-in-law’, your ass.

[sophiethewitch1]

What We Want - Chpt. 7 - Black N' White Knight

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

“I can’t believe that just happened,” Dick tells Tim, hand carting through his hair. The two of them are in the kitchen, at the breakfast bar. Tim sitting in front of his laptop with his legs crossed, and Dick tapping one foot agitatedly against the marble floor. While Tim might not be grinning ear to ear, it’s pretty obvious for anyone who knows him that he’s delighted by the tale Dick just regaled to him.

And what a tale it was. He hasn’t seen you in a year and a half, and then when he does, he finds you teary eyed staring at a picture of him shirtless at the gym. Bruce had always told him the way he played with the paparazzi would come to bite him in the ass one day, but he really can’t say he expected… that.

Obviously, it had to be a prank. That’s his first thought. That’s his only thought, really. What other explanation could there be? An accident? Maybe you’d forgotten what his room looked like. It wasn’t like he kept much personal stuff in his Wayne manor room, the only markers his clothes and the letters he kept in his drawer from his parents.

And you were wearing his clothes, of all things. He’d be surprised if you forgot how much of a Superman fanboy he was, seeing as he’d spent many hours ranting to you before the explosion. So, a prank. A show of good will, an olive branch maybe? It was more likely you were just fucking with his head, as you’d done in the past. Never like this, though.

This was just… bizarre.

“I can’t either,” and of course, Tim sounds near estatic saying that. The love of chaos ran true in that one.

Dick had managed to wrangle his life under control a few years back, and despite the universe seeming to try to unravel it at the seams, he was indisposed to let it simply happen. Even if you of all people had changed. No, Dick was getting older, and he was finding his taste for chaos a lot more… limited.

He didn’t want to suffer it’s affects. He was currently suffering it’s affects.

“I knew something was going on when she showed up to the party, but this…” Tim pauses, leaning back in his chair, “It’s gotta be a prank, right?”

It said a lot about their family that this was all the assumption they defaulted to.

“It could be something else. Did you even take her to the hospital after?” Dick offers instead, overthinking as always. This situation seemed to be made for overthinking, though.

Tim hums. “No, we did not.”

Then he turns his stare to Dick, like he’s expecting something from him.

“Seriously?”

“What? You’re the friendly one.”

Dick very much did his best to seem like the friendly one, at least. Tim was well aware it was a complete farce, though. Dick was nice but he could also be a bit… well… a bit of a dick. Another thing he’d been trying to overcome. He was doing better than when he’d been seven, at least.

Dick sighs, pressing his hand to his forehead, “I’d probably just end up accidentally nagging her, and then she’d never speak to me again.”

“That’s not my problem,” Tim shrugs, glancing back down at his laptop and squinting.

“It is, actually. Because if she stopped talking to me you’d probably be the next one till the girls and Duke came home who has to talk to her.”

“She could talk to Jay,” Tim offers, because he’s a shithead. Dick bets he did the same with Bruce, “And besides, I’m busy doing surveillance.”

“You mean stalking.”

“I do it to everybody, stop making such a big deal out of it.”

Dick sighs again.

“Hm, you might want to check your phone,” Tim says, in a way that suggests he has once again tapped the network. Keeping him out of Dick’s private life was like Sisyphus and his boulder. He still wasn't going to give up, and the time Tim and Steph mercilessly bullied him for getting dumped over text had made him all the more so.

‘Dont_try’: hey. can you come pick me up? thx

“Please, tell me you sent that and are just messing with me,” Dick begs, staring down at his phone in mild despair. Chaos. Always fucking chaos. Despite how hard he tried, he could not keep his family out of trouble. God damn it, when he’d gotten this job he’d been the one made for trouble. Where did he go wrong?

“Honestly, sounds like the sort of thing I’d do, but the girl just got bitch slapped so I really think you should respond fast.”

“What?!”

“She’s fine now, run to the bathrooms I think. You know for such an upstate place you’d think they had better camera positioning,” Tim mutters, complaining that he can’t watch every single little movement you make. Dick thinks he should probably worry about this, as it’s a clear sign of another decline for his sanity, but he’s now got this shit to deal with.

“Why, Tim? What is going on? Just tell me what’s going on.”

“Hm?” he’s engrossed by the computer, “Ah, the shitty boyfriend… some soup- ha, how is she such a clutz? Maybe we should get her head checked again- and… an altercation of some kind? I don’t know, I can’t see it properly.”

Dick leans forward in his stool, clasped hands covering his face for a moment.

“Are you going to reply? If you don’t soon, she’ll probably make it a bigger shitshow,” Tim says, nudging his foot against Dick’s. Dick, good big brother that he is, takes a deep breath and steadies himself. Even if this is really not what he wanted for his holiday, he’s dealt with much, much worse.

The press will have forgotten about this within the week. You, however, likely not. He’d promised to help you all those years ago, and even if he had no idea why you were reaching out to him, or if you would even be amicable when you met again, he’d still damn well do it.

He glances back down at his phone.

“What is going on?” Dick repeats to himself, and Tim’s head cocks to the side. There’s that familiar cat that got the cream grin spreading across his younger brother’s face, and it just really isn’t welcome right now.

“Intrigued yet?”

Unfortunately for both him, Tim and especially you, Dick already was.

He’s in his car in five minutes flat, finger tapping against the premium leather wheel. The sound of it is the only thing that manages to keep him sane.

Riding up to the place, Dick realises that no, maybe the press won’t be over this within the week. Considering the amount of paparazzi swarming the place, he doubted you’d be free for at least a few months. To be fair, the mysterious ex-wayne making such a scene was a bit of a big deal. Before you’d been basically invisible, despite your immense wealth and past.

Invisible? Dick thinks he spots at least twenty cameras. And that’s not even mentioning all the phones inside that would’ve gotten up close videos of whatever happened. Their legal team would handle it fine, that which Barbara or Tim couldn’t wipe from the face of the earth. And that was very little, all things considered.

Dick has to push past the calls of his name, ignoring all the intrusive questions volleyed his way like the pro he was. He still makes sure to listen carefully and store away every vital bit of information, as well as remember the logos on the film crew’s van. Eventually he makes his way to the front of the line, and the flustered front of house immediately recognises his face and sweeps him inside. Dick ducks in with a thankful smile, which he admits, falters when he enters the scene.

A scene which you are not in. Your gold digging boyfriend was, though. Of all the things Dick regrets with you, it’s not breaking the horrid relationship the two of you had apart. Or well, the fact that you totally, loudly hated his guts. He was a sensitive guy, y’know!

He sees your terribly boyfriend - George, Dick remembers - raging at some poor servers, and he knows he need to go sweep in and save the pour soul. It’ll be a hard fight, he can already tell.

Before he does so, he sends a quick text to his phone.

Underwear_guy: Where are you?

Don’t_try: I’ll be right out.

Shockingly, that was the truth. You come striding into the restaurant, and immediately all eyes are on you. It makes you stutter-step. Dick can see you visibly stiffen up, before you manage to gather your courage and keep walking. You don’t even pay him a single glance as you walk straight towards your fuming boyfriend.

You try to whisper, keeping your voice quiet and your conversation private. The boyfriend seems uninterested in the idea.

“What the fuck are you thinking?!” he cuts you off.

You glance around, and then say something else. It seems like you’re trying to defuse the situation, but George seems uninterested by the idea. 

“This behaviour is ridiculous. You need to get it together, we’re in public!” he yells, like he isn’t the one causing a scene. He seems to be trying to intimidate you back into silence. But today and well, yesterday too, something is different about you.

Okay, that’s enough of that. Dick’s intervening.

“You cheated on me! You deserve it and everything that’s coming to you!”

Or, uh, maybe you’ve got it covered.

-

George’s shocked face is almost worse than when you literally bit him. Guess he expected you to be a bit more demure after that encounter. He should know better, the other version of you seemed to have been even more spiteful in nature.

Today again, you prove you are a less than stellar person. You’d stopped caring about George as soon as you’d discovered he’d cheated, but you were still angry. Not jealous, but furious. Bubbling up your throat, rage and bile and the urge to attack him once again, even if you just want to go home.

Your teeth grind. Your jaw ticks. And oddly, you realise you have a real taste for George Lancaster’s limbs.

Though your life had changed (literally) in the past few days, you were still the same girl from your first twenty-first. You wanted George Lancaster to suffer. Even more so, now that the evil cunt had hit you right in the face. The hit had stunned you, though. More emotionally than physically, but it had shocked you.

You couldn’t say you were a coward. You’d spent far too many days in your teenage years indulging in self-destructive behaviours to think that. But something about this pathetic man was scaring the shit out of you. You think that made you more pathetic, but you couldn’t quite tell. That’d be victim blaming, right?

You did have a habit of blaming yourself. It was just usually your fault.

…Maybe you shouldn’t have bit him, no matter how much the response was instinctual or his screech was satisfying. This was all too confusing, all too much. You needed to get back to your apartment, lock the doors and barricade them so nobody bothers you. And then maybe hibernate for a week. You needed some time to process all the stupid bullshit you were experiencing. The wayne manor was too much, your horrible white apartment was too much, George fucking Lancaster was too fucking god damn much.

You take a deep breath, and manage to stop yourself from bolting like a deer. Deal with the problem at hand. Deal with it now, deal with it!

“I’m leaving, and we are done. It’s that simple,” you tell George, trying to drill in a message that he seems unable to comprehend. At this point you’d assume he’d be trying to apologise, manipulate back into his good graces, but you think you might’ve completely broke him. Broke the script.

Good. That was damn well good.

“Can we talk about this somewhere else at least?” George replies, eyes flicking to Richard Grayson’s angry gaze. At least you think he’s angry. You can’t quite gather the courage to look directly at him.

Also, there’s the manipulation! You wish you weren’t right this time.

“Sure, but I’m bringing him, and my answer will absolutely not change. You hit me.”

“You bit me!”

Well, yeah, not your best moment. You don’t think you can regret it, though.

“Then I think this relationship is ending on equal terms,” you reply, trying your best to just get him to quit it. It is obviously not working by the way his expression darkens.

“I’ll tell the press everything,” George threatens, which, well, is sort of a shitty threat because I don’t even know what he’s threatening. ‘Everything’? Couldn’t he be a bit more specific?

You shrug. It is the wrong response, you know it is, but you’ve completely ran dry of fucks to give. Couldn’t be much worse than the bullshit happening right now. The press were already very well fed, considering the situation that was today. George makes a small sound of fury.

“We’ll sue,” Richard Grayson, the white knight that you’d daydreamed about, comes to your rescue. Is it odd that it’s kind of flustering? You probably shouldn’t be flustered.

George immediately snaps his gaze to Grayson’s, giving the man a look with a healthy dose of fear. Couldn’t blame the guy. Even if he was the second smallest of the three remaining brothers, he was still well known for being strong. His family often did kick-boxing, and their sister, Cass, often whooped their asses. It was sort of satisfying to watch. Anyway, his physical prowess from fighting to weirdo gymnastic bullshit was evident in his svelte build.

George was many things, but he wasn’t an idiot. With just the one threat from the Waynes legal team, he skitters away like the little rat you know him to be. He leaves the restaurant, and he very obviously does not pay or even leave a tip. You suppose you have the cash to make up for it. Then, ignoring the paparazzi, you were technically home free. You glance to the side. Richard Grayson’s beautiful face looks a mix of confuddled, frustrated, and exhausted. He still saved you, though, even after the fool you made of yourself.

White knight, indeed. It almost feels a bit anticlimactic, but it’s the results you wanted. And yet, an ominous feeling befalls you. Somehow, you don’t feel you’ve seen the last of George Lancaster. You just really hope the old you hadn’t committed any crimes. A tabloid? Humiliating, but livable. Prison? Not so much.

Not that the rich stayed in prison in Gotham, or even the rest of the world. It was kind of strange to realise you were sort of above the law now.

You glance at Dick, pulling your uncomfortably wet shirt away from your chest. You’ve sort of been bled dry of any shits you could give at this point, so you decide, very maturely, to make jokes and ignore all your problems. It had gotten you this far.

You’d seen this behaviour before. Many, many times. It was what usually got you fired. But now you didn’t really have to worry about that, so why should you worry about causing a scene and ruining your life a bit more? It wasn’t yours, after all.

“What do you think?” you joke, elbowing Dick. He looks down from glaring at the entrance George just slipped out of, to you. His blue eyes are a damn near shock to the soul. It takes everything in you not to start fidgeting.

“Think of what?” he responds, and despite how hard you try, you can not read his expression.

“I’m trying to make some more news. Don’t think the reporters got enough the other day,” you say, gesturing to the giant stain. It’s still Dick’s shirt. You hadn’t realised till now, but the Beatles was now some sort of green soup. Is it kind of gross of you to acknowledge that at least the soup smelled good?

Probably. You didn’t actually get to eat anything here. It’s also probably a bit weird that you’re thinking about eating at a time like this. Probably.

“I think you’ve done enough, honestly,” he says, glancing at the camera flashes from outside.

He sounds exactly like your mother, it’s almost uncanny. Well, this version of him technically knew her. You’re still not sure how well en-meshed your two families had been before the disaster, but maybe he’d picked up some traits from her.

…That… you’re not sure how to feel about the idea. The old green monster bubbles up at the thought, and you can’t tell if you’re jealous your mum got to meet Dick Grayson, or that Dick Grayson might’ve gotten to know your mum.

“We should leave,” he says, cutting off your bitter inner thoughts, “I know you don’t like it when the magazines bother you.”

You don’t? You don’t. Yes, that makes sense, ‘you’ definitely wouldn’t have. And it’s not like you feel comfortable with them either. In fact, if you think about the fact your drowned rat appearance will be on every tabloid in the city by tomorrow, probably alongside photos from your birthday, you feel so nauseous you could collapse. Going to compartmentalise that one.

“Yes, going, let’s go,” you say, following Dick out of the restaurant.

Despite the fact that the security guards are trying their best, it’s getting quite rowdy out here. When Dick wraps an arm around your shoulder, shielding you with his body, you almost just pass out right there. His muscles… Your heart simply can’t take it. As it is, Dick notices you jump like a foot in the air, and backs off. He still makes sure to try and protect you from their vision as much as possible.

Still, in an act that is purely rebellious, you turn and give them a big smile and a wave. Even as you hate every single person on the other side of the divide, you want to make one thing very clear. You will not be cowed by someone like George fucking Lancaster. Your peace sign and wink are a message to them, to him, and to yourself.

Despite the fact that this new life is one you have no idea how to handle, you know one thing. Put on a face, and it’ll always be easier.

Dick is probably wondering what the hell happened to you for you to be acting this way. Your shirt has a giant stain on it, you just broke up with your cheating boyfriend, went through a traumatising experience just a few days ago, and you’ve got the biggest grin on your face. This behaviour speaks more and more of a full blown mental breakdown. And it’s not the first you’ve had or the last.

There’s paparazzi snapping thousands of photos of the two of you, and instead of shying away as ‘you’ used to, you throw up a peace sign. One of the papps drops their camera. That confuses you a bit, as your peace sign deflates slightly. Didn’t they want more pictures? Weren’t you supposed to pose…?

For all you stalked celebrities online, you realise you have no idea how to pretend to be one. This is going to become an issue, you can already tell.

He points at a car, and you assume it’s his because he starts making his way over. He’s obviously done this sort of thing before, using and guiding the security with a smooth confidence. Even still, the two of you are a bit too close for comfort.

Which you prove, by putting your foot directly in your mouth.

“I don’t have abs, but do you think the press would like my stomach like they like yours?” you say, and almost immediately regret it. Another poor joke. You are deflecting so hard. And why the hell did you bring that up, you dunce? You feel your brain cells draining the more you’re around this guy, it’s not healthy for you.

“Please don’t pull your shirt up in public,” Dick sounds like he’s about to have a mental breakdown. It’s spreading, like the plague. You’re patient zero, of course. Even still he gets you guys to the car, and opens the side door for you. You follow his wordless command and slip into the passenger seat.

“I won’t. Sorry, sorry,” you reply, to relieve him of some of the trauma you’re currently inflicting.

He glances back to the papps, and then back down at you. His smile bowls you over like he’s getting the last strike in a fucking 300. He genuinely is the most beautiful human being you’ve ever seen. Thankfully, he closes the door so you have a moment to gather your sanity before he goes around the car and gets in the driver’s seat.

You hope you’re subtle when you shift away from him slightly. It shouldn’t be that surprising really. You were stupid on average. You would be stupider around attractive people. You would be frankly disastrous around someone as blastingly hot as Dick Grayson. The Waynes in general turned you into a drooling idiot.

Good god, you need to get out of this car. As soon as you think that, Dick is pulling away from the parking spot and out onto the streets. He makes slow progress because Gotham traffic, but eventually you manage to flee the horrifying stares of the cameras. Already you can tell it’ll be giving you nightmares. Probably along with images of the guy who tried to rape you and Damian Wayne sneering at you.

“So, how are you feeling?”

Despite how you wish it not, Mr. Grayson decides he’s going to start a conversation with you.

“Good,” you reply, the answer instinctive and an obvious lie.

You can feel his gaze on the side of your face, but you don’t dare return it.

“That’s good to hear,” he says, and his voice is gentle. Sort of infantilising if you’ll be honest.

While it is very clear to anyone who looks at you that you have no idea what you’re doing, you’d rather he didn’t bring it up. You’ll figure it out. You’ve always managed to figure it out. This is what you get for asking for help. Really, despite your momentary panic you could’ve taken George. Probably not physically, but…

“You can talk to me if you want, you know?”

“Can you stop the car, please?” you respond, when that question immediately activates your fight or flight response. Dick must notice something about you, because he quickly shoots forward and into a momentarily available parking spot.

You scramble with the door, shoving your way back out onto the asphalt. The immediate distinct smell of Gotham, even Gotham’s richer districts, calms you down. Sewage, the ocean, and the ever present smoke and fog.

Fuck’s sake. You aren’t making yourself look anymore well put together.

Clearing your throat, you turn and find Richard Grayson coming around the car hood towards you. There’s a worried look in his eyes, and you really don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like you made a deal with the devil. By getting rid of George, you’d gotten a new problem - and an infinitely more complicated one.

Shit, you need to stop making rash decisions when you’re having panic attacks. You’d say you should probably try and stop having panic attacks entirely, but you don’t really know how to do that.

The sound of your name has you snapping back to attention. Dick looks even more worried.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asks, taking a few slow steps towards you. Again, infantilizing. Like you’re a wild animal about to run. Wait, weren’t you just comparing yourself to a chihuahua? Well, it’s not the same when other people do it.

“I’d like to take a walk,” you say, hand scrunching into your pyjama pants, “Alone, I’d like some time alone.”

“…In that?” He glances down at the stain that is slowly starting to dry. It’s making your skin itchy, but at least it’s not as cold.

“I can buy something,” you say, remembering one of the apps on your phone was connected to your bank account, which you had to assume was pretty full. It’s kind of stupid that you haven’t checked that yet.

You’re starting to feel a bit defensive towards your own intelligence. Maybe it’s because you seemingly keep making all the worst decisions.

Dick doesn’t make it any better.

“Do you have cash on you?” he asks, showing how little faith he has in your general abilities to survive as an adult in Gotham.

“I do, I’ll be fine,” you insist, because god damn it, you will be. You just need a fucking minute.

You ran from the Wayne manor because you felt like you were being watched, and then as soon as you showed up at the world’s most uncomfortable apartment, the haunting wraith known as George dragged you out in your P.J.s. You could figure it the fuck out, if these people would give you some fucking space.

Richard Grayson seems to realise that you’re getting upset, because he goes quiet for a moment. After staring at you for a moment longer, for which you manage to find the courage to maintain eye contact through pure stubborn will, he asks you one final question.

“Are you sure you don’t want a ride home or something?” he asks, still seeming so determined to help you.

His suggestion brings flashes of images of you breaking down in front of the Bruce Wayne to mind. From almost a birds eye view, you see yourself sobbing against your own ruined dress as the billionaire looked on. Bile literally jumps up your throat, and it takes a lot of willpower not to grimace at the suggestion.

“Look, Mr. Grayson, I really appreciate-”

“That’s the second time you’ve called me that.”

Once again, you feel the urge to simply sprint away from your own problems, but you manage to hold yourself still. Still, you can’t think of a solution. You can’t really think much of anything. Instead you stare at Richard Grayson with your hands threaded together and your lips pressed into a thin line.

Though you open your mouth to speak, you find you have no excuses ready or available. You’ve talked yourself into a corner already, and it’s your third day in this world. Marvellous. Maybe you should just tell the truth.

Still, the dangers outweigh the pros. They don’t know you, they don’t have any real reason to take care of you. If they believe you, they’ll toss you out onto the streets penniless. And if they don’t-

You blink. There’s a highway sign behind Dick, and it catches your attention like a lightning bolt. ‘Arkham Asylum 800 miles’. It’s white blocky letters on green panelling feels like a sign from god, warning you from the path you consider taking.

And then you realise that you might actually get sent to Arkham if you say anything, and you resolve to never tell a single soul about what has happened to you. You’ve heard enough stories about the asylum, and by god, you are not being roommates with the fucking Joker of all people.

Eventually Dick realises he’s not getting anything out of you and he sighs, shaking his head. His annoyingly perfect hair mesmerises you for a second, but you manage to wrangle your brain back under control. He really doesn’t make it easy.

“I just want to know if you’re safe. If you’re going through anything, you know we’re always happy to help-”

“Dick,” you say his name, face twisting in discomfort, “This was a… a one time thing. Usually I can handle my problems. It just… it caught me off guard. George cheating was a huge shock, and I needed someone to stand by me.”

“And you know I always will, right?”

Ah. That’s… Dick Grayson was a stranger. You didn’t know him, and more than that he did not know you. He did not know what you would do, could do. You didn’t think anyone did, not even yourself.

It’s a silly idea to expect your celebrity crush to save you, and it’s one you find you can’t stomach it at the moment. It makes you feel disgusted with yourself at the idea. It’s too indulgent, too silly. It’s very simply, not possible.

You’ve given up on relying on miracles. These lessons had been beaten into you, really. You didn’t want to have to learn them again.

Your feelings must show on your face.

Dick lets out a whoosh of air, frustration palpable. He carts his hand through his hair. It still looks perfect. The world is unfair, yadda yadda.

“You run hot and cold, you know?” he gives you a grin. It says a lot about his ability to act, seeing as it seems almost natural. Almost, being the key word.

Also, he is absolutely correct. The chihuahua effect is in full-swing. And you know what? You are probably going to continue to run hot and cold, because you’ve never made a decision in your life. He’ll just have to get used to it.

You raise your hands and shrug, in the universal ‘what-can-you-do?’ motion. He wasn’t wrong. You were being completely erratic. Not even you knew what you’d do next. At least life isn’t boring these days, right Right? You wonder who you are trying to fool, because it’s certainly not yourself.

“I’ll contact you if I need anything,” you lie, because it seems to be the right thing to end this torturous conversation, “And I’ll make sure to keep contact with Alfred. You can talk to Jeanine if you need anything, as well.”

Dick, unfortunately, calls you out on your bullshit.

“But not you, right?” he says, smile still printed on his face.

Woof. You think… you’ve hurt his feelings? Ah shit, you instantly feel like the scum of the earth. Still, you don’t know how you could fix this. Arkham is a genuine threat lingering over your shoulder, you don’t know enough about your new cut-throat billionaire world, and you can not lose any faith they have in you. Any that you have left, that is.

You’re sorry, but this is coming down to survival. And you are a greedy person, after all.

In the end, you don’t have anything to say, and Richard Grayson leaves without a word. Watching him walk towards his car, you feel… bad. Really bad. The part of you that is still crushing on this guy, a very large part of you, feels like you’ve ended the earth. The other part, the one that recognises that once again you’re going to have to fight for yourself… well, she thinks so too.

Maybe… maybe you could fix this. Apologise. Once you’ve gotten your bearings and know you’re safe and 100% financially stable, maybe you’ll figure it out. Give him his shirt back after you’ve dry-cleaned it.

For now, you give him your back as well.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

[drunkenkissesatdusk]

LIKE LIKE!

pairings — grumpy!damian wayne — al ghul x sunshine!reader

warnings — they’re teenagers in the modern era of course they’re gonna curse (but not a lot), isn’t EXACTLY grumpy x sunshine but it’s okay it’s my one shot 👅

summary — friendship only gets you so far with mutual feelings and the shared yearning for more than that.

notes — hi guys

━━━━━━━ YOU’D MET DAMIAN WHEN school started, in the same advisory you two were paired up since neither of you really had friends. it didn’t bother either of you, since you actually got along.

he was pretty quiet, moody, and didn’t like anyone at school. you were the exact opposite. you were loud, cheerful, and got along with everything. that obviously didn’t mean you were necessarily friends with them.

what made you and Damian click so well was probably the fact that he only really seemed to like you — even if it wasn’t obvious.

even if he didn’t talk, didn’t smile, didn’t seem to have a sliver of an emotion, he still liked you. another thing he’d never been good at was explaining his emotions. he practically despised everyone because they treated him like some sort of bomb.

you pushed his buttons, messed around with him, and always gave him a little bit of a hard time. he didn’t hate it, he could never hate anything you did.

it was probably three months into your friendship with Damian that you hung out with him outside of school. he asked if you could come over, and you happily agreed. the day was normal, except you weren’t picked up by your guardian, rather — you went with Damian.

“hello, i’m Alfred.” you thought he was nice, an old British man that Damian told you had always worked for his family. if anything, he must’ve practically been a part of the family.

you, of course, introduced yourself. it was polite. Alfred seemed taken aback, and the look (or feeling) didn’t leave him when you turned and began talking Damian’s ear off.

the boy, however, seemed to have absolutely no problem with that. he seemed to be hanging on every word, Alfred could see the mixture of fondness and love in Damian’s eyes when he looked at you — too bad you were both as oblivious as ever.

at Wayne manor, you wore a smile as you walked behind Damian and into the large house. he waited for you to take your shoes off after him, his hands stealing away your heavy bag and throwing it over his unoccupied shoulder.

you were then introduced to Richard Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, and Bruce Wayne. of course, you’d always known who Bruce was — your guardian worked for him now, a feature you didn’t leave out.

Damian, not liking anyone here (except, obviously, you), tugged at your arm. you understood what he meant, even with a lack of words, and promptly excused the two of you.

Damian’s room was pretty plain, and you jokingly shook your head. “who knew you were so boring?” you teased, sitting next to him on his large bed.

you didn’t know then, but Damian actually had you here for a reason. for awhile now, he had found you in his every waking thought. it’s like you had overridden his normal thoughts, becoming the only thing he could comfortably think about.

it had proven difficult during patrol, his performance was lacking and he needed to do something to soothe his thoughts so no one saw Robin as weak.

“i wanted to talk to you, actually.” he muttered. it stopped your thoughts, and you turned to him curiously. he didn’t speak much, and you never pressured him to. when he did, you didn’t make a huge deal of it.

“what’s up?” you hummed, eyes locking in on him.

“i uh… listen, you don’t have to… y’know, feel the same? but… but i really, really like… you.” his sentence was awkward, which made you smile. he didn’t know, but you sure knew, you were head over heels for him.

“i like you too, Damian.” you laughed softly, letting your hand drop to his leg.

“holy shit, really?” he looked up, his normally inexpressive face suddenly unable to find an emotion, settling on utter disbelief and pure excitement.

“yeah.” you smiled fondly at him.

“does this… does this mean—” you cut him off, nodding. he reached forwards and tackled you in a hug, placing a soft kiss on your collarbone. suddenly, he stood up, jumping around happily.

“fuck yes.” he muttered, you began laughing.

this was the most important moment of your teenage years, your boyfriend, jumping around in excitement, because he was with you.

he tackled you into another hug, and you remained glued together until you had to leave.

you slept well with a huge grin planted across your face.

masterlist — reminder that asks / requests are open!!

[redflagshipwriter]

Check Yes Chapter 6

masterpost

“Have you experienced events that could be described as fatal?” Danny read from his notebook. Before Jason could answer he continued, “Do you know the name and species of all your progenitors? Have you ever wondered if you are-” 

Jason held a hand up to ask for silence. He was in the zone on a training module that Barbie had sent to the whole team. He was not going to get any more shit from fucking Tim and Stephanie about being an out of touch old man like Bruce who ran code directly from the 90s.

Danny cut himself off to wait. Without looking up, Jason could see some kind of bouncing movement that had to be Danny fidgeting. “You’re early,” Jason eventually said. He shut the program that he’d been running and then blinked his full attention over to his date. “It’s not- is it 5 already?” He blinked away the gumminess in his eyes and checked the time. 

Danny flushed a little green. His freckles glowed a little whiter in contrast. “No, it’s 4:30,” he admitted sheepishly. “I, uh, left work a little early.” He floated up and then abruptly over into a flip. Like an antsy mermaid. Jason leaned back and watched, fascinated by how easy movement looked on Danny. It was the way he’d used to see Dick, but now he knew how hard Dick’s easy mobility was earned.

“You don’t feel gravity at all, do you?” He confirmed, envious and charmed. 

“Uhh.. Can’t say that I do,” Danny admitted. He shrugged. “Not like this, anyway. I do in my human body, obviously.”

“Is that literally-” Jason cut himself off with a mortified flush. Holy shit. You can’t just ask someone if they have a magical transformation into their own corpse. Insensitive much?

Danny gave him a knowing look but gracefully ignored the question. “Anyway. Do you remember what I asked earlier?” He cocked his head to the side and full body wiggled. “I had Frostbite help me write them out. Undead health isn’t really my area, but he knows everything that’s ever been known, which is pretty cool.”

“Uh…” Jason thought back. “I told you when we were eating that I died once,” he reminded Danny with a raised eyebrow. “So that’s an easy yes.”

Danny shrugged helplessly. “I didn’t know how serious you were or if you were describing something extremely short term like needing afib or something longer term-”

“Dead, buried, in the ground for months,” Jason admitted. “Presumably rotted, but I came back to myself with living human physiology, if extremely damaged from what killed me.” It was really gross to think about. It was also impossible to totally avoid. There should have been no coming back from all the blood drying up and shit.

Danny stared at him with an open mouth for a few seconds. Long enough that Jason fidgeted, uncomfortable.

“That’s the most metal shit I’ve ever heard in my life,” Danny said reverentially. “That’s so nasty, man. You rotted? Does this make me more of a necrophiliac than you?”

Jason choked on his own spit.

Danny did another flip.

“My parents were definitely human,” Jason managed, voice strangled. Best to get this back on topic. “I know for sure. I’ve met them both.”

Danny blew a raspberry. “It’s not always obvious,” he pointed out 

“Anything that would show up on Batman’s DNA analysis can be ruled out,” Jason corrected himself. “And neither of them had any non-human capabilities. Died from things that a Tamaraean or Kryptonian would be able to get out of.” 

“...Oddly specific species mentions,” Danny said. A line formed between his brows. His toes touched down to earth and he crossed his arms. “You… I wasn’t thinking of that type of non-human.” He cleared his throat. “It’s just that, you touched Wolf.”

“And a Kryptonisn wouldn’t be able to?” Jason asked a bit dryly. He didn’t understand the logic.

“Not unless they were really juicy with death,” Danny said in a weirdly mellow tone for such a disgusting sentence.

Jason gagged a little. He couldn’t help it. Oh, christ. Yeah, bodies got wet and shit after a while, but characterizing that as juicy? That was out of line.

“Not like- not like that!” Danny fluttered his hands at Jason, torn between horror and cackling. “I don’t mean like, dead and rotting. I mean dead and reanimated with ectoplasm. Souped with the sweet nectar of the afterlife. Wolf is a ghost, man.” He snickered.

“Wolf is a ghost,” Jason repeated.

Danny frowned. “Wolf,” he said. “Not Wolf.”

“What?” They sounded the same.

“You’re saying it wrong,” Danny said, saying the name the exact same way that Jason had been. “It’s Wolf, not Wolf.”

Jason stared at him warily. “...Spell it for me.”

“W-U-L-F,”  Danny rattled.

Ah. Ok. Jason took that onboard. “Wulf is a ghost,” he said again. “And therefore I ought not be able to touch him. I can touch you.”

“Like this? For sure.” Danny went through his flashbang light-show and shook out his newly black hair. “I’m a physical being. In my ghost form, I can consciously let you touch me. But Wulf was actively in the Ghost Zone when you hit him. You put your hand into the Ghost Zone and smacked him. The living have ghostly properties in the Ghost Zone. He’s tangible there but you should have been intangible.”

“...Maybe I’m a ghost?” Jason posited, cocking his head slightly as he said it. Danny was the expert. “I never found any answer for why I just woke up in my grave one day.”

“You just woke up?” Danny repeated, delighted. He put his hands on his face, breathed into them heavily, and then ran both hands through his hair. “That’s sick. That’s fucking sick, man. Did you have to dig yourself out like a zombie?”

…Did Danny think this was like, hot, and not disturbing? “Tore off my fingernails on the coffin splinters,” Jason confirmed, fascinated with what a little freak this guy was. Danny’s pupil dilated at the words. Jason could almost have been offended because that shit was traumatic, but hey. 

If he really thought about it. It was sick as fuck.

“I think yes, by the way,” Jason decided. He waited for Danny to give him a questioning look  before he elaborated. “You’re a monsterfucker, my guy. I’m attracted to you, but not because you’re dead. Whereas you’re clearly into the fact that I’m a dead guy.” 

Danny opened his mouth. He shut it. He put a hand over his mouth. “Huh,” he said. “Huh.” His brow furrowed. “If I said it was scientific curiosity and that passion for death runs in my family- no, I hear it.” He flapped a hand at Jason to cut off the laugh he couldn’t stop. “Hush. Okay. Fine.” He stood up a little straighter. “I’m a necrophiliac and I’m proud.”

A window banged shut in the kitchen and there was a clatter as someone’s shitty little brother fell into the sink.

“...Hi, Duke!” Danny called.

Jason put his hand over his face.

“Hi, Danny!” Duke called back, voice choked. “Good to hear from you, man.”

“You can’t fucking be here!” Jason said between his fingers. “I have plans, you shitty Zebra mussel.”

Danny looked at him.

“...What?” Duke asked. He came into the room to frown at Jason.

Jason rolled his eyes. “New Zealand mud snail.” They still didn’t get it. “Spotted lantern fly.” 

Blank stares.

“Fucksake,” said Jason. “I’m calling you an invasive species.”

Danny laughed. Duke made a loud pffft sound and unlocked his phone. He held it up and showed them the screen. “Would the New Zealand zebra lantern fly have this?” He triumphantly brandished his phone screen, which was a screenshot of his chat with Jason where he’d confirmed that he had permission to come over.

“New Zealand zebra lantern fly,” Jason repeated, vexed as fuck. “You know damn well-”

“It checks out, boss,” Danny reported, leaning back from Duke’s phone. “Looks like he’s allowed in. Let ‘im use your TV while we go out.”

“Yeah, let me use your TV while you go on a date,” Duke echoed, clearly enjoying this a lot.

“...I’ll get my coat,” Jason said sullenly. “Don’t get too comfortable.”

“We’ll bring you back dinner,” Danny told Duke.

Jason stalked away into his bedroom, wondering when he’d lost the plot to his own life.

[dcxdpdabbles]

There are so many fics out there where Danny is either adopted by or the biological son of Bruce. In many of these he might have an existential crisis but other wise he is fine and happy to be part of the BatFam. Where are the ones where he fights against this just doesn't want to connect with Bruce of the rest of the family.

One: Bruce is a billionaire and Danny has had some bad experience with Vlad trying to adopt/get him as a son. So even if Bruce is one of "the good ones" Danny does't like billionaires.

Two: Danny for the most part grew up in a mostly normal family and home, with two Parents and a sibling. Most of the BatFam were only children and parents are dead or came from dysfunctional homes. I think Duke is the only one who really had a normal childhood.

Three: The Fenton family is pretty openly affectionate with each other and are pretty normal emotionally. Danny has a great relationship with all of them (Danny went evil in the timeline where they all died). Most of the Batfam is emotionally constipated.

Four: Danny is used to his boundaries being respected. I don't think that the Batfam is great at that. With Bruce needing to know everything, Tim's stalking tendencies, Barbra's hacking, just to name the obvious.

Danny knew that he was adopted into the Fentons. His parents had never hidden it from him, but they never treated him as anything besides their child.

He had come into their lives one day when one of Maddie's old high school friends had called, bawling that she had gotten pregnant and that her husband wasn't the father. He had discovered the truth and thrown her out, leaving her pregnant and alone on the streets of Gotham.

Maddie had been furious at the affair- she hated disloyalty- but had decided to help her only for the baby's sake.

She had driven over multiple state lines back to her home city to pick up the friend only to find out she had taken her life and left her newborn son to Maddie. While Maddie had been able to escape the hellhole that was Gotham, Rebecca never got the chance, not with her average intelligence.

In high school, the two were as close as sisters until Rebecca fell into the whisky bottles her father carelessly left around. She blossomed into a beautiful woman upon their graduation- more so than Maddie-, turning from a sweet homebody into someone who got into exclusive parties and powerful men.

Maddie had slowly drifted away from her, so far away at college, and Rebecca fell further and further into the party scene. It was a surprise that she settled down for marriage and Maddie truly believed that she had been happy with her husband.

That's why Danny was such a surprise. Maddie did not know who Danny's biological father was, but she did not care. Not after they placed the sobbing infant into her arms, and she realized that she was his mother now.

She immediately phoned Jack to tell him what had happened, and he told Jazz she was a big sister before the call ended. They told him the story about when he started to learn his colors. Not with her taking her life, of course; that was when Danny turned fourteen. This was only a few days before Danny revealed he was Phantom to them.

They were first shocked, but then they became supportive. Phantom now had two proud ghost hunters following him, shooting photos instead of guns.

It was embarrassing, but it was also nice of them.

And that was that. Danny is a Fenton, adopted, but a child of Maddie and Jack Fenton all the same.

He never gave his biological parents a thought. In fact, he all but forgot about them until Sam convinced him to take an ancestry test. He had allowed her to swipe his mouth, package his DNA, and send it off to see where his people came from, completely forgetting that he would not match with Jazz, who had done the same thing a month prior.

His results were shocking, to say the least.

Somehow, someway, Rebecca Silver had been in the system of DNA samples, and they had matched him to her alongside his biological father.

Bruce Wayne. Rebecca had an affair with Bruce Wayne, arguably one of the wealthiest men in the country, and they had sent him a message to let him know he matched with his son.

An eccentric billionaire has just been told that Danny was his. He knew that song and dance well, and it was never fun to dance to. Danny could only stare at the results with dread as Sam apologized profoundly.

"Maybe he won't see it." Tucker tried. "I mean, Wayne is probably so busy with rich people stuff he doesn't have time to even look at his emails. Especially ones that will come in spam since it's comersolized."

"Yeah, Maybe" Danny doesn't think he's that lucky.

A month later, the Fenton's home phone rings. His parents are working on a new invention on the dinning room table, Danny is stretched out in front of the TV watching a mindless cartoon and Jazz is crocheting in the love chair.

It's a typical Tuesday night where everyone is doing their own thing but close enough to each other that they can call it family time. Jazz is the closest to the house phone so she picks it up with a cheerful "Fenton house, this is Jasmine."

Her smile slowly slips away as all the blood drains from her face. Alarmed by her reaction, Danny sits up. "Jazz? What's wrong?"

His words have his parents' heads snapping up, zoning in on their daughter's rapidly growing destress. Yes, they get distracted often with their work, but the Fentons have always been loving parents.

They quickly spring into action.

"Jazzy-pants?" His dad says, walking up to her and taking the phone from her slack hand. He covers the speaking end of it, not paying attention to the call as his mom hugs his sister. "What's the matter?"

"It's... Bruce Wayne's lawyer," Jazz says faintly. "He's calling about Danny. He said that Mr. Wayne has been attempting to take Danny back and that they are going to take us to court soon."

The room goes dead quiet, and Danny snorts. "He can't do that without a letter or something. Come on Jazz, it's obviously a prank."

Someone at school likely found out and thought it would be funny to make "the biggest loser of Casper High" Danny Fenton, think a billionaire wanted him as a son. Honestly, he wouldn't put it past the A-listers.

He laughs to show how stupid this prank is, but neither of his parents joins him. Instead, his mother closes her eyes and whispers, "We received his court papers weeks ago. We've been trying to get a lawyer."

What.

She pushes Jazz into his dad's arms, where his sister is slowly panicking. His dad tries to soothe her as his mom opens the drawer under the TV, pulling out three orange envelopes. She looks remorseful as she hands them to Danny. "We didn't want you to worry. I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner. Vlad said he would help, but he wasn't sure what he could do against such a powerful man"

And there, in overly complicated terms, is clear as day. Bruce Wayne wanted full custody of Danny Fenton and was willing to take the Fentons to court to get it done.

The man- who has never so much as met Danny, much less have a right to say what happens to him- was accusing his parents of child abuse and child neglect! He not only was trying to take Danny away but Jazz as well!

Where did this man get the audacity!?

"I don't want to go with him!" He shouts rage, making his eyes glow green. "I don't even know him!"

"I know, sweetie. I won't let him take you" His mom says, yanking him into a protective hug, and he realizes that her shirt is getting wet with his tears. Tears that fall just like the woman who raised him. "Everything will be alright."

It won't be, he knows, but he won't tell her that. He just lets his mother hold him, and when his sister and father crash into the hug a second later, he holds them just as tight.

He's not sure how they will win against Bruce Wayne, but Danny will fight his biological father every step of the way. He will not be his son.

______________________________________________________________

Bruce stares at the photo of Danny Fenton- his son. His boy, whom he wasn't aware was alive until a month ago- and the reports from concerned teachers and whatever information Barbra could pull from his classmate's social media.

Dramatically dropping grades.

Clear signs of sleepless nights.

Flinches whenever his parents pull out "ghost hunting" gear.

Strange bruises and cuts along his arms and legs.

His small stature is no longer growing properly like his peers.

It all pointed to one thing. The Fentons were abusing his son and Bruce would bet the sister was suffering from the same treatment if her own grade dropping, sleepless eyes, and desperate race to adulthood were any indication.

Bruce laces his hands, resting his chin on them as the Batcomputer slowly flips through various reports being quickly dismissed by incompetent social workers who all claim it was Ghost Hunter related and not a cause for concern.

Those same social workers all seemed to have gotten quite generous donations from one Vlad Masters, a well-known family friend of the Fentons.

He hates corruption that allows children to be hurt, more so when it;'s his own children.

"When do we go retrieve Brother?" Damian asks, green eyes narrowing in rage as the reports scroll slowly. Ever since he found out Danny is a blood sibling, all Damian has been talking about is getting his elder brother home. "I am displeased with how long it's been, Father."

"Soon," Bruce promises, aware the rest of his children gather around him. They don't speak, but he feels their protective rage at what Danny has gone through, and he knows they will use every last bit of their training to get Danny home. "Either through the courts or in person. Danny will be with us come summer."

"Good," grunts Jason. "I'll have a little chat with his adoptive scumbags when we get him."

"I'll help," Dick tacks on.

"I'll make it look like an accident," Tim says, voice leveled but eyes blazing as the reports get to the neglect section. He has personal issues about that.

Bruce has never been so proud. "Court date is set for three weeks. They can't weasel their way out of it this time."

Don't worry son, he thinks to Danny, I'm going to save you.

[hana-no-seiiki]

Hi! Could I be ✨Anon? (Im not sure whats been taken already) I've been on a big Batfam kick these past few days and have a v indulgent request if it interests you.

Could I request something for a (gn) civilian reader who is friends w/ the Batfam, but recently got superpowers that are magical girl-esque? Neither of the parties knowing of the others Alter Egos. Here are some of my thought, but write the post however you'd like.

Reader was accidentally caught up in some commotion that involved stealing specialty cargo. One of them being an alien artifact, and reader uses it in desperation to save themselves. But now they have these sparkely, pretty, and showy powers that they never asked for. (And maybe a magical animal companion that insist they bring light and justice to Gotham)

Reader is reluctant to be a vigilante, but keeps finding themselves in situations to help people anyways.(Maybe its a side effect of being a magical girl) They end up fighting alongside the Batfam at some point, but they feel embarrassed to interact w/ them. Reader feels completely out of place with their colorful and over-the-top powers when next to the cool and brooding batfam.

Sorry if this idea is a bit out there, but ty for letting me be indulgent in your ask box 💕!!

NO CAUSE I FEEL THIS DYNAMIC SO MUCH.

I either have the friendliest vibe or the bitchiest vibe and no in between. Meaning that people either come to me for everything or think I’m a snob/will bite-

and sure non! i don’t really keep track of my anons nowadays so people can be whatever as long as it’s not listed in my pinned

BAT X MAGIC ✨

IN ANY CASE

I’m gonna mix Sailor Moon, Miraculous Ladybug and Onimai for my inspo with this ask if you don’t mind

Magical Girl/Boy/Person! Reader is really close friends with Tim and Damian. If there was one thing all three could agree on it’s that they loved superheroes in manga/comics.

And Reader? Boy did they adore the Batfam. There was just something about their dark, brooding aesthetic that they couldn’t get enough of.

So it was a tad bit ironic that they stumbled upon the most “girly”and “bright” power ever known to Gotham.

It didn’t help that your abilities had to be activated with cutely yelling things like “Sparkle Blast!” or “Smile Hurricane!”

I like to headcannon that you have a familiar or Kwami like creature that in exchange of keeping your identity magically hidden, absolutely bullies you by making the one above a requirement.

I headcannon that Damian has the PHATTEST crush on you. Like even moreso than the stalker, otaku Tim. Like he is just head over heels. You’re strong, you’re capable, you’re adorable?? But that mostly extends to just your magic persona rather than your real self. He’s super obvious about it to anyone but you too (similar to the og miraculous ladybug w/ felix instead of chat).

Tim is more interested on who tf you were. Like yes!!! Magical Person Hero!!! You were basically his childhood crushes incarnate!! But his inquisitive mind really needed to know who you were in order to calm himself down.

Jason is honestly a bit overwhelmed by your whole getup, but grows to love you the most in terms of how kind you are and how you help them even in the most dire of situations (not knowing that you were basically forced to)

He’s very much Tuxedo Mask type wherein he’d be very annoying to you when the disguises are off but an absolute Casanova with em on.

You and Dick are the most close when it comes to patrols and fighting. I feel like you, being the big fan you were, would make him look even more flashy and handsome during battle with sparkles and whatnot. I have a feeling he’d be the first to ask you out or fully romance you, as well as be the first to befriend you/contact you as a vigilante.

Bruce is definitely perplexed by how you always evade him in terms of your secret identity. It frustrates him to no end that whenever he gets close to finding out something either gets in his way or his mind just goes blank.

Once you explain how your magical persona works tho he’s pretty quick on the bandwagon, especially since he sees that his boys love you.

Also cause you look way too adorable to really be heinous.

…Right?

Once you break one of your familiar’s rules though, they do share your identity with the bats and well…

All hell breaks loose.

[anxiousnerdwritings]

What if Platonic!Damien actually managed to run away with the reader. How would everyone else react???

Alfred is completely and utterly relieved to hear the news that Damian finally got the Reader out and away from this deplorable situation. Whether he helped make it happen or not, Alfred would be so happy just imagining Damian and the Reader running off into the sunset, far, far away from Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim and the manor. He’d have to hold his true thoughts and feelings on the matter close to his chest but he is truly grateful that the two of them got out. Alfred knows damn well that Bruce and the others won’t give up on finding and bringing Damian and the Reader home but he’ll do as much as he can to make it as difficult as possible for them to be found. Even if he has to betray Bruce’s trust to the maximum, he’ll do it. He has to.

Bruce would be livid, but not at first. I could see him (and the others) thinking that this is all just Damian being dramatic and trying to have the Reader’s attention all to himself like per usual but this time Damian isn’t cooping the Reader up in his room or locking him and the Reader up in the Reader’s room and keeping everyone else out, this time Damian’s taken them completely out of the manor and out of Gotham for that matter. It isn’t until it’s been made more than apparent that Damian has no intention of coming back with the Reader (or at all) or even letting them see the Reader that Bruce becomes much more serious and intense about the situation at hand. Not to mention finding out that Alfred has been aiding in the efforts of keeping Damian and the Reader in the wind adds even more to the feelings of hurt and betrayal running rampant in Bruce. But he won’t give. Even if he can’t ever truly trust Alfred ever again, or the fact that he will surely have to severely punish both Damian and the Reader when he finds them, Bruce won’t stop for anything.

Dick would be pretty upset but even then I don’t think he would take it too seriously or at the very least wouldn’t want to believe that Damian would do that to them until it became glaringly obvious that yes he did do just that. Dick would wholeheartedly believe that he could convince both Damian and the Reader to come back home, whether they actually do is another thing. But he would try, and I mean by any means. Dick is extremely manipulative and especially desperate in this situation making his manipulation know no bounds. He’ll say whatever and do whatever if it means his darling is coming home.

Jason would be absolutely livid right off the bat. He’s ready to go kick Damian’s ass and bring their darling home the second he gets word of what’s happened, whether he comes back with Damian in tow is something else. To say Jason is pissed would be an understatement, he can’t say he’s actually surprised about any of this but he’s certainly annoyed by it. Who the hell even gave the brat the idea that he could just steal their darling away from them like that? Jason already wasn’t too happy to have to share to begin with but this, this isn’t gonna happen. Not on his watch. And the moment when Bruce gives him the go ahead to be rough with Damian when they find out where exactly the two of you have been hiding, Jason couldn’t be more thrilled.

Tim would immediately be set on trying to find where in the hell the two of you could be hiding out. Talk about losing sleep, he wouldn’t so much as allow himself to blink until he found the exact coordinates to their darling’s location. This boy is pulling out all the tricks. The only way he’ll finally be able to rest is when he has his darling in his arms again and so help him he fucking will. As much as he’d love to get a few hits in on Damian when they finally find the two of them, Tim would much rather just get to feel their darling again. Make sure they’re okay before he takes them out of the hideout they’ve surely been cooped up in to leave Bruce, Dick, and Jason to deal with Damian while he finally gets that long awaited nap he so deserves and getting to cuddle up with his darling too.

[hypewinter]

You know Duke doesn't get nearly as much love within the dp x dc fandom as he deserves. That man has as much potential as the rest of them and to prove it, I give you the following scenario we see a lot of:

Danny as Duke's brother

Danny reincarnates because after a long time as a full ghost, he wants to experience living again. The only problem is that he reincarnates to some pretty crappy parents. They never wanted him and they make it blatantly obvious. Luckily, Danny's best friend and his family are incredibly nice. They celebrate his achievements when his parents are too drunk to care and let him sleep over all the time. One day Duke's parents make the sleepover permanent and Danny never has to go home again (it isn't until years later he learns the Thomas's persuaded his parents to give up their parental rights).

Thus begins Danny's life as the second Thomas son. And honestly life starts going pretty good for Danny. Who knew having healthy and loving parents would do such wonders on Danny's development and mental health? But then tragedy strikes. Their parents disappear and the two are placed in foster care. Duke reassures him that everything will be fine. That they'll stick together no matter what. But Duke keeps disappearing at night. He claims he's looking for their parents, but he never lets Danny go with him (This is to protect him). And suddenly all of Danny's unprocessed trauma from this life and the last comes flooding in and he gets this intense urge to keep Duke in his sights at all times. So he becomes Duke's shadow.

He sneaks out after Duke and gets back before he does. He makes sure to keep just the right distance so that Duke doesn't notice him but he can also jump into action if need be. Anytime Danny loses sight of his brother, he panics. He practically goes feral until Duke is in his sights again. Danny is determined to keep his brother safe. He doesn't want to end up all alone anymore. He wouldn't be able to handle it.

As time passes, Danny begins to believe this will be their new routine. Him constantly chasing after Duke. Constantly worrying if this is the day he'll be left all alone. And things only get worse. Because it turns out their parents were jokerized and there's nothing to be done about it. So Danny's hope that one day he could get his perfect little family back in dashed on the rocks. Then Bruce Wayne comes and offers to foster them and Duke agrees but Danny silently doesn't.

He knows who Bruce Wayne really is. He knows that he's training his brother. He knows that he's taking Duke away from him. He knows there's nothing he can do about it. So Danny sinks even further. He stops following Duke around. Then he stops going outside all together. He starts pushing everyone away (that way it'll be easier when they eventually leave him).

Meanwhile on Duke's end, he notices his brother pulling away. He noticed for a while actually. He just thought that Danny was having a tough time during this transition period so he gave him some space. But then Danny keeps shutting people out and so he starts taking things a little more seriously. Duke starts trying to coax Danny out of his room. He tries to get him to talk about his interests again. But all he gets is angry lash outs instead. Finally Danny says something that makes Duke angry and a massive confrontation ensues. This of course leads to a heart to heart confession time and finally Danny opens up. He spills everything and the two brothers embrace in a tearful heart to heart. We end with Danny slowly starting to interact with the others at Wayne Manor (And getting some much needed therapy too).

Whether Danny joins Duke on patrol is up to you

[gothamhappiness]

You are my heaven 5 - the end (Bruce Wayne x f!reader)

It was supposed to be a little imagine of a dark and lonely Bruce Wayne switching place with another Bruce Wayne from a parallal universe, but I wrote more than I thought. And then you asked for more :)

My masterlist is here.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

Warnings: no proof reading, fighting, language, violence, angst/comfort (in a way), pregnant!reader

Things went out of hand pretty quickly. Dick joined you home and saw Bruce speaking with you. He was towering over you. You seemed very uneasy. 

“So you knew”

“That I was with a man who was actually in love with me and taking care of me? Yes”

“I am your husband. Is it how you are loyal to me? No, no, don’t answer. You know what, I understand. I haven’t been the best. But once he’ll be back to his world, I’ll do better. I’ll take care of this child and we’ll be happy again. Don’t you want that?”

You didn’t answer because you realised how obvious the answer was: you were in love with the other version of Bruce, not with the one you actually married. You wished for him to go away, you wanted things back like when he was gone. You didn’t even feel guilty anymore. You were allowed to be happy, your children too. Even Barbara started to enjoy the new Bruce better.

“Don’t you want that?” Bruce repeated, losing it over your lack of answer

Dick walked over and with the way the man greeted him, he knew who it was. The new Bruce was always smiling at him, always grateful to have Dick around. This Bruce was a little bit annoyed, a little bit too cold to feel happy around him. Dick wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you relaxed a little bit.

“Stay away from mom” Dick groaned

“I’m not… For fuck sake, can you all stop acting like if I was the intruder here? I belong here, this is my world, my family, my home!” Bruce was getting angry

“Then start treating us better already” Dick continued

“How fucking dare you?! Without me, you’d be nothing” Bruce started to scream

“And you how fucking dare you talking with that tone in front of a pregnant woman? A woman you said you loved too. But really you never knew anything about that, did you?”

The batfamily had always been pretty protective of you, but it was even worse now you were pregnant. And to Dick, his former father was actually a threat to the family. Because it finally felt like a family and after everything that happened, he didn’t want to lose it.

Everything happened in a blur after that. The “real” Bruce threw a punch at Dick, out of pure anger and despair at being so easily replaced. They started to fight. They had no mercy. Actually, all the anger they always felt toward each other was finally getting free and making them even more ruthless.

Alfred quickly grabbed you and guided you away from the two men, finding you a safe place to lock yourself in until everything would settle down. Alfred wasn’t too sure what to do. He had guessed something happened when his Master started to treat everyone like Alfred always wished he would. For once, he had decided to pretend to not understand. But now, to be fair, he wasn’t recognising the man he raised and he thought that maybe he was gone in this other world. Or maybe he never truly existed. He just wanted them to stop fighting, but he didn’t know how to.

You called your lover, you tried to explain to him what was going on, but you were getting close to a panic attack. 

“It’s alright, my love, it’s alright. I’m on my way. Stay where you are, stay safe. This is all that matters to me. Jason will come find you so you won’t stay on your own, okay? I just need you to breathe in and out. Can you do that? For me? I know you are strong. You are amazing, my love. I just need you to trust me” he smoothly told you, trying to appease you no matter how tense he was himself getting.

But all that mattered was you. Always you.

“I… I trust you” you finally manager to whisper

“Good. Lay down and breathe, my love. I’ll be home soon”

After that, he called Kate for her to deal with the security breach while he was coming back to the manor. On his way, he also called Jason for him to protect you and help you calm down. Jason didn’t ask a question. If his father needed you to look after you, he didn’t need to know anything else.

You heard a car coming by, the front doors getting opened and then more sounds of fighting. You knew that your Bruce had started a war with your former husband. You guessed he asked Dick to leave, because he didn’t want his son to get hurt. Hopefully, Alfred was taking care of Dick now.

You started to cry.

You jumped when you heard a knock at your door. Soon enough, you opened the door to a very worried Jason who locked the door back behind him and settled on the ground by your side. He held you and rocked you, whispered words of reassurance to help you calm down. He hated to see you like that.

When he arrived at the manor, he did his best to follow the instructions he received for once, and to not intervene in the fight between the two Bruces. He was now praying to whoever divinity who might hear him to get rid of the former Bruce. He didn’t want to be in the same world as him again. You both heard the sounds of the fight and it was driving you sick with worry. 

“What if he kills him?” you cried our and Jason shushed you

“He’ll be fine” he whispered

“You haven’t seen the way he was acting. He was so desperate to get his life back here, he promised me things…” you felt like you were going to throw up

“Ma, don’t worry. He may want his life back, but I can tell you that dad is actually very desperate to keep this life as well. And you’re pregnant with his baby. He’ll fight with everything he has” Jason tried to reassure you

Jason was right. The two Bruces were on equal strength, on equal intelligence and on equal despair. They both wanted and needed this good life in this world, but for that, one of them needed to be gone.

Both Bruces had thought of so many plans and different contingencies to take care of the other. They hadn’t really planned on simply fighting the other one. But despair drives everyone crazy and makes them act like animals.

You heard screams of:

“This is my home! I’ll kill you or I’ll send you back to your personal Hell!”

“This is my Heaven and you can’t get it away from me. You didn’t deserve any of this anyways. Even my wife knows it”

“She isn’t yours”

“That’s no what she said. That’s not what the children said.”

“Fuck you”

You had no idea how long it last. Forever, maybe.

“I’m going to get sick” you whispered when a terrible silence engulfed the whole manor.

Then you heard a lot of footsteps. The children arrived and were taking care of things. You jumped when Alfred knocked at the door.

“Mr Jason, Mrs Y/N, the fight is over. You can come out” he told you 

Jason had to help you get up because your legs didn’t want to obey you anymore. You opened the door and Cass helped you walk to the living room with Jason. Everyone was so tense.

“How’s Dick?” you asked Stephanie who walked by

“He is fine, Duke is with him right now, to make sure he is all good” she answered and you felt a little bit better knowing that

Damian was sitting on the ground with Tim. They were both looking at the two Bruce Wayne lying on the floor. One was stabbed, the other one was tasered. They were unconscious. Damian was lost, Tim was trying to take care of the wound. 

“Baraba called Leslie, Alfred is waiting for her” Cass told you before helping you sitting down on a chair

“What are we going to do?” you whispered

“We need to make a choice” Jason told you

After a little while, the whole family was in the room, looking at the two men. The choice was pretty easy to make. 

Your former husband was locked up in an unbreakable room. Leslie took care of him while he was unconscious, and after that only Alfred talked with him. Damian sometimes too, but he never let his father go. Deep down, you knew that this fate was even worse than just killing him. But you couldn’t kill him; you needed to send him back to the other world, because this world didn’t have any Bruce Wayne now and who knew what the consequences could be.

When your lover woke up, he was in his bed. You were sitting next to him, holding his hand in yours. 

“Welcome back, darling” you whispered

“You choose me” he understood, fully relaxing against the mattress

“We choose happiness. Whenever we’ll find out how, we’ll send him back to the other world. For the last time, hopefully”

“I’ll make sure of it” he hummed before kissing your fingers

The man you loved never had any more nightmares about the other Bruce.

And you neither.

--

Taglist for all my work <3

@blublock404

@wind-canoe

Taglist for this series <3 (you’re my heaven)

@bat1212

@karakento

@kneelforloki

@nosebeers

Thanks for the ideas & the comments <3

@motherofdragons1998

@silverklaus

@alishii

@kazuko-stuff

@navs-bhat

@hisuitfgg6

[kimberly-spirits13]

How the Batfam Reacts to Dick and Jason Dating a Black Widow HC

Dick:

• He met you on a mission where you were partnered together

• Dick immediately recognized the emblem on your suit showing that you were a Widow

• He was suspicious at first thinking that you were still with the organization until he heard you talking about it

• “Dreykov stood no chance against the freed widows.” He heard you explaining to Wonder Woman, “I hope that they’re doing well on Themyscira”

• He knew that if you were in cahoots with Diana, you must be sound

• When you were on the mission, you started talking a lot

• You thought he was funny and charming and he thought you were smart and witty

• Dick liked that you could handle yourself in situations and that you had grown from everything that had happened to you, not crumble from it

• When the mission was over, you two exchanged numbers

• One day, a few months later, you texted him and said that you were looking to move to Gotham

• You wanted to know if he’d go look at apartments with you since he knew Gotham better

• He was so excited and despite him trying to play it cool, everyone knew that he was up to something

• He made the excuse that Wally was doing some apartment shopping and wanted to hang out that week

• Let’s be honest, when you find your apartment you probably hook up or have a Disney binge night

• After a wild weekend, he heads back to the manor and is glowing

• Always on his phone

• Is in a good mood

• Sneaks off during patrol

• The works

• Everyone knew that he must be dating someone, it was so obvious

• When everyone finally finds out that he’s dating a Widow, it’s because they follow him to your apartment

• He’s there to work on some detective stuff that was going around in Gotham

• You had your monitors set up and your suit laying over the sofa when Tim, Jason, and Steph broke in through the window

• You pushed Dick behind the coach, rolling to take cover while you drew a Glock that was tucked in your waistband

• “Stand still, hands where I can see them!”

• “Y/N/N, those are my siblings!” Dick said tackling you, “idiot siblings at that”

• “You’re dating a Widow?!” While Jason still had his helmet on, his sense of surprise was evident

• “You’re dating a Widow and you called her by a nickname?” Steph gawked, “Never in all my days-“

• “You guys can’t tell Bruce!” Dick said frantically, “Tim don’t you dare touch that com”

• “Too late.” Damian came into the apartment, giving it a once over and glaring at you, “So this is the distraction that has been plaguing Grayson.” “Is he paying you to court him?”

• Bruce came into the apartment later to haul his kids out after they had basically interrogated you about life and how you and Dick were dating

• Bruce was suspicious of you at first, as he is, but after a few weeks, you were invited to patrol with everyone

• You and Jason trauma bonded and shot guns together

• Cass and Damian liked you since you were an assassin, and a skilled one at that

• Steph liked you cause you were pretty and badass

• Babs and Timmy thought you were intelligent and a good friend to have

• Bruce and Alfred eventually come around, Bruce likes that you’re loyal and intelligent

• Alfred likes that you’re not a crazy clout chaser

• Everyone adjusts really well to you quickly, and you easily become part of the family

Jason:

• You two met while you were rehabilitating on Themyscira with Diana as your mentor

• You and Artemis had quickly become friends and she had you come with her on a mission

• You needed something at a faster pace that you could exercise your skills with

• Artemis introduced you to Jason and you two hit it off quickly

• She noticed this and had you two paired up for a mission

• She’s not Artemis anymore y’all, she’s Cupid/ Eros and she just shot Jason Todd in the butt with an arrow

• He’s so gushy over you

• Puppy dog eyes and everything

• At first he’s like, it’s got to be the Russian accent

• But after a few hours, he knew it definitely wasn’t the accent

• When you’re still living at Themyscira, he asks Artemis to take you on as many missions as possible so that he can see you

• When you’re finally done living on the island, he’s the first to offer a new place

• Wants you to live at once of his safe houses in Gotham

• You would accept the offer but you already had gotten an apartment

• Jason was so depressed about it until you told him that it was in Gotham

• “What- you’re like my only friend. I’m not moving to LA or something.” You told him

• He was just puppy eyes and gushy

• Everyone saw a change in his demeanor and they were suspicious of what was going on

• Steph and Dick followed him one night to your apartment where they saw you in your widow suit and him in his red hood suit eating messy burgers and fries

• His boots and helmet were strewn about on the floor and weapons were littering the kitchen table

• He probably has his head in your lap at one point for you to string your fingers through your hair

• They’re both excited and rush back to the cave to spill the beans

• A few days later Dick tells Jason that he should invite his new gf over

• “You dickhead how’d you know about that! We’re you stalking me?”

• Maybe Dick was

• When you showed up to the manor, Damian immediately challenged you to a sparing duel

• Everyone but Jason was hesitant and when you landed the kid on his butt he was beaming with joy

• That’s when you earned Cass and Tim’s respect

• Damian liked you now too, but he wasn’t going to admit it after that beat down

• Bruce got to know more about you mainly from Diana

• Since he trusted her, it was easier to not be so suspicious about you

• Alfred liked you since you brought out the good in Jason and you were good help when he needed it

• The entire family ends up liking you really quickly, but you have to start setting boundaries about them coming and crashing in your place at some ungodly hour of the night

• Sometimes, the last thing you want to see at 4am is Dick Grayson sprawled out on the coach with his dogs out

• Jason is always welcome though

[monst]

Go for a drive?

Tim Drake X Gn. Reader

Extra: Fluff, Fairly Suggestive. Established relationship, A meandering conversation with your bf as he takes you on a drive. Don’t be a Tim & Please drive safely!

WC: 2.1K 

      You were clutching at the shades Tim had chucked at you earlier; Desperately trying to keep them from flying off your face from the high-speed winds. The grey pavement was never-ending as the car Oh, excuse you as the ‘It’s a Lexus LFA 4.8liters v10 god this car’s a beast! Shame, that they only made so many before production ended’ roared down the Jersey countryside. The meter read 160mph, and climbing. With your death grip on the lens and arms of the shades, you turned to Timothy. “Do we really need the windows down?” 

    “Nope.” He rolled them up, while his right hand reached out in a grabby motion. Releasing your grip on the shades you linked your fingers with his cold ones. When Tim asked you to go on a drive with him you weren't expecting him to keep to the speed limit however, you did expect him to stay near Gotham. You should’ve expected the longer drive once he pulled up to your street with ‘his baby’. 

     “Sounds nice.” You commented after a couple of minutes of silent hand-holding. 

     “Doesn’t it!” He grinned, “It’s designed this way so that you can hear the v10 tone inside the car.” His obvious enthusiasm for the car was infectious! “Right now we’re listening to nine-thousand rpm! Uh that’s how fast the engine’s spinning it’s why the” He pauses suddenly face flushed, pretty blue eyes averted. “Sorry, I’m rambling.” 

    “No, it’s cute!” You insist. “I like hearing you talk about your interests even if some of this car stuff is kinda going over my head.” You squeeze his fingers, urging him to continue. His responding okay is small but he clears his throat to continue. His eyes shift to you briefly before crinkling at the corners when he faces the road. 

     “Right, I think that my favorite part about this car is how I got it.” 

     “Spill, what’d you do?” you tilt your legs, leaning your torso towards him like a sunflower. 

     “Nothing devious.” he rolls his eyes. 

     “That’s surprising knowing you.” You tease. “Didn’t win it by finding the key to the fifth dimension or something?” 

     “No, nothing that exciting.” He bit back a smile, happy that you're poking fun at his frankly ridiculous escapades. “Um, I was maybe fifteen when Bruce brought her home.” He ignored your giddy ‘her?’ with a huff. “Yes her, It was one of the last ones made and I wasn’t supposed to drive it, but you’ve seen her!? I just had to!” 

     “I took her out a couple of weeks later.” You felt the car slow, Tim’s hand briefly leaving yours to mess with the GPS. 

        “With permission?” 

    His pink flush was enough of an answer. He clears his throat again, a little habit you’d begun to associate with him doing when he was feeling sheepish. “Well, Bruce did say I could use any car I wanted if an emergency presented itself.” You were dying to ask. 

       “What emergency?” You interrupted yet again. To be fair to you, you knew Tim would skim out details he thought were unimportant if you didn’t practically interrogate him. 

      “BatBurger’s limited addition Gotham Knights’ Nightwing toy…” 

    “A battymeal!?” You laughed. 

    “Yeah, yeah laugh it up. The resale is about thirty thousand.” You choked on your laugh, eyes wide. 

    “For a five-dollar meal toy?!” 

    “Mhmm. And mine still works. It was one of those toys that say phrases.” Out of your peripheral, you see a car pull out into the road in front of you. Tim slows. “So he still says “Let’s go Knights!” and “Strike out!” it doesn’t sound like Dick at all!” He chuckles. “The Knights were in the playoffs that year!.. And that year alone.”  

     You snort, eyes fixed on the road, still trying to glean where you're going. “I knew it was bound to be a novelty item one day. So, I just had to snatch it up, and if my car just so happened to be the only one with gas to get me there~”

     “Two birds one stone?”

     “Two birds one stone.” He affirmed. “Alfred was picking up groceries that morning, Bruce was in a meeting and Dick was working at the BPD at the time.” Your eyes met once more before he continued. “And since it was early, that meant everyone else was occupied so I drove the sickest! car through the drive-thru that day. Unfortunately, I did get caught.” 

     “Seriously?” 

     “Yup, Kevin’s dad was picking up some coffee right across the street, ‘said he recognized my hair when he blabbed to Bruce.” 

    “Kevin?”

    “Hudman, we used to play Wizards and Warriors together.” He rolled his eyes when you called him a nerd. “I’m pretty sure you said you loved me the other day so what does that say about you that you love a nerd?” 

   “That I have good taste” You saw his smile pull at his cheeks and decided to add. “So roleplay huh?” 

   “Get your head out of the gutter.” 

   “Oh, so you only like the tabletop role-play?” He groaned, cheeks pink as he narrowed his eyes at you. 

   “You're lucky I’m driving.” 

   “Kinky.” 

   “Are you gonna let me finish?” he sighed. You bit your lip at the wording, omitting words to nod while raising your eyebrows suggestively. He cleared his throat, brain catching up to his words “As I was saying, He called Bruce and I got in trouble. He didn’t let me knowingly touch the car for months. Then one day it was gone.” You felt the car turn down a new path, scattered farms and homes on either side of the road. 

    “Thought for sure he used it for a cover story but I looked through articles and no Lexy-” You cut him off once again. 

    “I’m sorry?! You did not name the car Lexy.” 

    “Don’t listen to her Lexy it’s a good name.” “Oh my god” “I checked the lower levels of the cave, nothing. I even asked Bruce and he said that he could’ve sworn Jason took it. So obviously I hunted him down”

     He paused his tale to check the map. “We're almost there. So, I found him in Ibiza. He said he didn’t take it, but that Dick had mentioned something about "hot new wheels". I called him right there! On the beach and got the worst sunburn of my life. The third worst sunburn of my life. Regardless. I wanted to make sure. Dick didn’t have it. I was this close to losing it but that’s when B decided to take a spontaneous leave of absence. And I had to go back. Oh, here we are.” 

      He pulled into a semi-filled lot, at the center was an old building a decent line leading up to it. “Ice-cream? This far out?” You were skeptical.

     “Wait till you try it~” His car drew more stares than the Tim Drake-Wayne. Said ‘Wayne’ taking your hand in his as he walked you to queue the line. You eyed the menu from your spot, nudging Tim with your elbow. “What happened next? You said you had to go back to Gotham?”

     “Mm.” He replied. “He was gone for a while.”

     “You missed him?” He squeezed your hand. 

     “A bit.”

     Tim’s arm settled across your shoulder as you waited, the sunlight glowing gold-orange as each person in the line received their icy treat. “Hey Joe, my usual, and what are you ordering honey?” You told ‘Joe’ your order, cuddling into Tim’s side as the cooling wind nipped at your nose. Tim chatted with the man, introduced you, and promised the man a ride during the time it took for him to make and hand over your ice cream, 

     You waved at Joe before hopping back into your seat. Peeking into his waffle bowl to see Nepoliation ice cream topped with a gooey-looking brownie. “You seem to know everyone.” He shrugged, his blank expression morphing into a concerned pout. You smirked watching as he struggled to figure out where best to place his bowl. “Just give it.” 

     “You sure?” You opened and closed your palm, and he handed it over with a quick thanks. Once the engine roared to life you were off again. Where? Tim had said both places were a surprise. You hummed while you lapped at your ice cream, Tim fiddling with the buttons on the wheel. He shot you an apologetic look as he pulled out his phone to drive one-handed. 

     “If we die I’m going to kill you.” 

     “We’re not gonna die, and your hands are full.” He protested. “I have a playlist.” 

     “Great so my death will have a soundtrack.” You paused. “Oh my god did we drive all that with no music!?” Were you that into him? Oh. You felt your cheeks warm glad for the music notes that left the speaker. Only that- “Wait? So where was the car in all of this?”

     “Well, apparently he had Clark move it.” “Huh?” “Yeah! Caught me off guard too, When he came back I told you how he adopted me. And then not long after, Damian turned up and everything got hectic.” His knuckles were white against the steering wheel. “The cave blew up and I wasn’t even thinking of the car. I think it was years later when I thought of it again, saw one at a show. I figured that it was still down there in pieces.” 

    “But Clark had it?”

    “Getting there baby, It was my twenty-first birthday. Legal to drink and I know that’s why he gave it to me on that day.” Tim was smiling glancing off to the side mirror before making another turn. “It was Dick’s idea to wrap the car in car shape. I was really excited! At first, I thought it was a different car. But the air freshener was still the same. My name on the little tree!” Your cheeks hurt from your smile. “Bruce told Clark to hide it. Still can’t believe it!

     “That’s so sweet.” Tim ducked his head a bit, ears rosy. “So your favorite part is that it was a surprise or a gift?”

     “Both,” He hummed. 

     “Hm.” You looked down to your ice cream and then eyed his bowl. “Your ice cream is melting.” 

     “Shoot! Uh, Feed me?” You sputtered, floundering for a bit before sighing, face hot as you mumbled a strained sure. You still haven’t figured out how he distinguishes what he considers embarrassing. You lifted the plastic spoon to his lips watching with amusement as he twisted his mouth to eat. Tame Impala played in the background when he turned down what looked like an abandoned road. 

      “I’ve got it from here,” He said around the spoon as he drove up to the precipice. You let him turn off the engine before handing him his bowl, turning back to finish yours. 

      “So where are we?” 

      “We are currently sitting at the best place to watch the meteor shower in all of Jersey.” 

      “That’s today?” 

      “Yes. At least I’m pretty sure it’s today. I made sure to double-check to see if anything was gonna throw them off their planned orbit.” He turned to his watch. “Yup should be good, in about an hour or two.” He tipped the bowl up to his lips to drink the remains of the ice cream. 

      “An hour or two?” 

      “Maybe two..” He began to chew at the sides of his bowl. 

      “Tim.” You pressed. 

      “We’re a bit early.” You rolled your eyes. “I timed it right, we were only supposed to wait about thirty minutes?!”

      “Tim, Darling” He frowned at your tone. “Did you account for your speeding?” His wide-eyed stare was as cute as it was frustrating. “So what we just sit here?”

      Tim looked out the driver's side window, the overgrown grass giving him pause in asking you to take a stroll. He mulled over his options as you finished up your ice cream, pink tongue peaking out to catch all traces of the sticky treat from your lips. You perceived his stare, his heavy lids narrowed down towards your lips. “We could do something else.”

      “Like what?”

      “Maybe..." He pulled his seat as far back as it went, dark eyes locked onto your form. "You can come over here and find out~”

      “In the Lexus LFA 4.8liters v10?! Timothy!" You gasped, mock scandalization dripping from your tone, your hands quickly undoing your seatbelt. Your body practically materializes onto the driver's seat, your weight settling against Tim. You feel more than you hear Tim’s 'harumph' and you can’t stop your grin against his lips as you ask just for kicks “In Lexy?!” 

[gilverrwrites]

If that ask was too long and elaborate, I have another one!

What about a fic with Batman, where the reader finds out she’s pregnant and doesn’t know how to tell Bruce since he already has mature/ teenager kids and she doesn’t know if he wants to raise one from the infant stage to adulthood.

She kinda overthinks about it and distance herself from Bruce. He notice it and when she would confess, to her surprise, Bruce would get super exited!

What I don't understand

AN: I'm back baby! At least partly, my hand is still on and off achy so I won't we posting as activiely as I have previously. I've done so much research on pregnancy that all my adds are now of pregancy tests, fertilitie test, baby stuff, I'm worried my bf might start to suspect that I'm pregnant which would be akward Bruce Wayne/F!Reader, 3.9K words CW: Husband/Wife dynamic, pregnancy, feet (none sexual), mentions of vomit, body dysmorphia, lying/sneaking around, prenatal anxiety/depression, martial problems, swearing. Fluffy ending tho!

Pregnancy brain is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. Or maybe that's insanity, who knows? You ponder the thought as you fidget with the flimsy cardboard packaging of the pregnancy test you're awaiting the results of as if you don't know the answer. You'd already taken countless tests, trialling different brands in the hopes of a different outcome but every single one of them had confirmed your situation with variations on lines and plus signs. They'd never offered you a negative, and yet you keep trying.

There was no denying it, and pretty soon there would be no hiding. You were fast approaching the end of your first trimester at 9 weeks but had only found out about a month ago. The task of informing Bruce while there was still time to act seems to grow bigger and scarier with each passing day. Not to mention; it's becoming increasingly obvious that he already suspected something is wrong.

3 weeks ago:

The cold tile against your aching feet felt like ecstasy. You couldn’t help but close your eyes and lean against the wall, relishing in every second of release as you awaited Jason’s return.

You’d spend hours hiding your pain, precariously balancing in a pair of heels as you kept up appearances during a charity event being held at the manor. Bruce was currently being cornered by a visiting dignitary, and as bad as you felt leaving him alone, it might have been your only chance. You’d slipped away to an off-limits hallway, grasping Jason’s who had drawn the short straw for event appearances along the way. Once out of view to your guests you’d begged him to retrieve a pair of pumps from your bedroom, the petty prospect of keeping it secret from, and thus getting a one-up on his adoptive father being the primary motivator. That and he owed you, a lot, for defusing many situations in which he and your husband had butt heads.

The weight of your discarded shoes hung heavily from your fingers, you hadn’t realised how weighty they were. A shame, because they were so pretty. They were a gift from Bruce, strappy and bedazzled, the perfect colour to match your dress. Another pair for your ever-expanding collection, he’d always favoured gifting you shoes and purses, and you certainly didn’t mind, at least not until your ankles had begun swelling at the mere notion of being used for their primary function.

“Are you okay? You seem off.” Jason’s voice returning to the hall made you jump out of your stupor, and he watched with concern as you tucked your heels behind a curtain and slipped into the flats he’d brought you.

“Fine, fine.” You smile, patting his arm with a reassuring smile. “Just didn’t wear those in properly and now I’m paying the price.”

“Right.” He still seemed dubious and was about to say something else when a door creeks open, redirecting both of your attention.

Bruce stood in the doorway, stern, arms crossed. He glares at the both of you, he and Jason have a very similar glare. His eyes focus in on you, identifying you as the main culprit, his gaze roves across your form, lingering on your feet for an uncomfortably long time before speaking.

“If I have to suffer through this, so do the two of you.” He points behind him. “In.”

Jason’s face is obscured as he takes the lead, but Bruce must not like his expression because his frown seems to deepen.

You followed close behind, careful not to step on the hem of your dress now that you lack the additional six inches the heels had offered but your integration back into the crowd is halted. Bruce traced his hand along your back, cupping the curve of your waist and directing you to a lesser populated spot amongst the outskirts of your visitants.

The stony look on his face was gone, replaced with a polite smile for the crowd and softer eyes for you.

“What happened to your shoes?” His voice was low, in-perceivable to anyone but yourself.

“My feet were sore is all.” It’s not a lie.

“Too sore for dancing?” He asks, voice as slick as silk and you don’t want to agree but yes, they are too sore dancing. Not to mention you’d gotten nauseous from standing up too quickly only hours earlier but damn if you didn’t want to dance with your husband. Want to feel his chest against yours, his hands on your curves, admire the smile on his face. There are few things you enjoy more than any form of intimacy with Bruce.

“Maybe later.” You sighed, “I think I need to sit down for a while.”

2 weeks ago:

‘Breast changes are another very early sign of pregnancy. Your hormone levels rapidly change after the egg is fertilized. Because of these changes, your breasts may become swollen, sore, or tingly.’

You groaned aloud, rereading the entry on WebMD once more. You hadn’t expected your breasts to change so early on, incorrectly assuming any swelling or pain would be a result of breast milk, but you were wrong.

Believing you had the house to yourself, you figure now was as good a time as any to read up on more early pregnancy symptoms, to correct any other misconception you might have. You were midway through reading about progesterone and how it causes constipation when your laptop pinged.

A notification popped up in the corner of the screen, a DM from UserDC27, Bruce’s bat-server codename. You click to open the message and audibly gasp when a screenshot of your browsing history greets you, framed in red with its own ‘suspicious activity’ notification in the corner.

‘Pregnancy trimesters in weeks’ ‘Swollen breasts pregnant’ ‘Early pregnancy symptoms’

Amongst all the suspicious browsing habits of this family, of course yours had flagged up! Fucking ridiculous!

UserDC27: ? UserRI01: For a friend UserRI01: dw UserRI01: Love you x UserDC27: is typing… UserRI01: has signed out.

1 weeks ago:

“Good morning.” A familiar voice greeted you, strong hands slink around your body, brushing against your back and hips before settling on your stomach. What should have been a sweet moment frightened you, disturbing you from your train of thought and causing you to almost spill your morning decaf coffee.

“Woah there.” Bruce laughed, the warmth and proximity of him soothing you quickly. He effortlessly took the mug from your hands and settled it on the kitchen island so he could pull you closer without spillage.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, turning your head to rest it against his chest. The strength of his cologne is always so much stronger in the mornings, the scent of the man you love, of citrus and woodsiness does wonders to comfort your frantic brain no matter the time or place. “Just lost in thought.”

After a second you realise your mistake, you’ve allowed him an opening to ask what you’re thinking about and that exact moment certainly did not feel like the right time, what with Damian in the next room. You should be alone, completely alone.

He surprises you however, always one for keeping everyone on their toes, by spinning you around to face him and telling you, “I don’t think that’s it.”

“What do you think it is?” You tried to keep your voice airy, relaxed, unsuspicious but even you can hear the guilt in your tone.

“I think you’re tired.” He watches you with a playful glint in his eye, but the next words out of his mouth are accusatory no matter how light his tone is. “Where are you sneaking off to in the mornings, oh wife of mine?”

“W-what?” You heard him fine, you were stalling while you calculated a response. You had been sneaking off in the mornings and the fact that he’s asking so playfully, as opposed to interrogating which he is not unknown to do even with you, means he knows more than he’s letting on.

Bruce isn’t exactly an early riser, often too tired from long nights of crime fighting and case filing, but he is a light sleeper. Always on alert. He’d already caught you in a bought of morning sickness once. Roused by the unpleasant noises you’d been making. You’d lied about it, citing an upset tummy from something you’d eaten. You weren’t sure which was worse, the vomiting, the sombre expression he’d given you as he approached to rub your back throughout, or the look of horror on Alfred’s face when Bruce had brought up your supposed food poisoning later that day.

Ever since you’d purposely been rising early and sneaking off to dispel any nausea in one of the many guest bedrooms.

“Nowhere, I’m just becoming more of a morning person I guess.”

He eyed you sceptically, and you thought you might crack under the pressure. His hands reach up to cup your face, preventing you from turning away. His touch is so gentle, so soft for a man of his stature. “You can tell me anything, you know that?”

“Of course.”

As if you couldn’t feel worse he adds; “I miss waking up to you beside me.”

“Oh Brucie-“

You’re already on your tip toes, ready to concede, to apologise, to shower your sullen husband with kisses when you’re saved by the signal. Literally, a call from Duke 'The Signal' Thomas, with a reminder of your apprehension; an active situation that needed Batman’s participation.

Your relationship, and now marriage to Bruce had always hinged on an unspoken understanding that Gotham comes first. Even with Tim taking over most of his responsibilities at Wayne Tech, Bruce simply does not have enough time to raise a baby. You can't expect him to take turns with the nighttime feeds, with the frequent nappy changes, with the constant attention an infant will need.

You’ve no doubt Alfred would delight in assisting you, he's been dropping hints about wanting a baby Brucie since the engagement, and you love him very much but if you’re to raise a baby, you want to do it with your husband, not his butler.

That’s presuming your husband even wants a child. Another child. He already has enough children to populate a small village. Children with lives of their own. Children who in some way or another have followed in his vigilante footsteps. You think of the stress and trauma each of them has faced, and how it has affected them and their father. You think of Steph and her tremulous relationships with Bruce and Arthur. Of Jason’s deaths, plural. Of Dicks ineptitude to form meaningful relationships with anyone outside of the lifestyle. Of all the childhoods so many, but especially Cass and Damian missed out on. Could you be responsible for putting another child through any of that?

Furthermore, if your child wanted to live this life, could you really stop them? Nobody stopped Tim. Nobody stopped Barbara, when Jim had tried it only caused the rift between them to grow bigger.

Could Bruce stop your unborn child? Would he want to?

Speak of the Oracle. The chime of your phone draws you out of your spiral of perinatal anxieties. It’s Barbara, informing the girls-only group chat that she’s running late for lunch. Crap. You’d completely forgotten that you’d promised the girls lunch and shopping. Barbara had some tech on hold, Steph wanted to try the new caramel cookie waffles at Goodilicious, and Cass needed new boots whether she knew it or not.

Hurriedly, you shove the used test into a previously disused makeup bag that is now full of other used tests. It's starting to smell, but you don't have time to figure out how to stealthily throw it out, so you hide it at the back of a cupboard behind a basket of sanitary products before rushing out the door.

Later

Catching up with the girls had been fun, it had really helped you forget about your predicament and just relax for a while, but it had also taken a lot out of you, keeping you out well past dinner. Your body just was not functioning as well as it used to, for obvious reasons.

Upon returning to the mansion you’d made it to the ground floor lounge, feet too sore to even consider the stairs, and collapsed on the closest couch, exerting just enough energy to pry your shoes and sock off of your swollen feet prior to falling asleep. Just a quick nap you tell yourself, to regain some energy, you’ll be right as rain in time for Damian’s bedtime. He’s old enough now to put himself to bed, especially given that he often patrols with his father until the early hours of the morning, but tonight is his night off and you’d always make the effort to wish him sweet dreams when you can.

You’re awoken by the feel of calloused fingers pressing into the arches of your feet. You hadn’t heard him enter, but Bruce is sitting on the arm of the couch, in nothing but sweatpants and slippers. Between his bare chest and cowl hair, he is a welcome sight, bruised chest and freshly cut lip and all.

“What happened to you?” You ask, voice husky from your impromptu nap. You manage to draw your eyes away from Bruce long enough to check the time on an antique wall clock, it’s 4 AM. You’d far exceeded a nap. “Where’s Damian?”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle. Damian is asleep. When you didn’t wish him a goodnight he came to look for you, that’s how I knew you were here.” He asserts. He looks at you with a furrowed brow and pinched lips, working his thumb into the arch of your feet with just enough pressure to make you mewl in relief. “Are you punishing me for something?”

The question hits you like a ton of bricks, it’s not without merit. You hadn’t intended to spend the night on the couch, but you can understand how it must look to him, especially in tangent with the ways in which you had intentionally been avoiding him; sneaking out in the mornings, not allowing him to see your naked body for fear that he’ll notice your swollen breasts, and growing belly. You hadn’t had sex in at least three weeks.

All at once you are overcome with remorse. You’d been so consumed with the pregnancy and how best to approach the subject with Bruce that you hadn’t stopped to think how your actions would weigh on him. He’s so strong, your anchor, an unchanging presence for the whole family. He locks himself and his emotions behind the big bad bat or billionaire Brucie so well that sometimes he forgets he has them. Sometimes you forget. Even now, clearly hurting and concerned for his marriage, he’s rubbing your feet.

“No of course not Bruce, I’m sorry…” your mind starts to form the end of your apology ‘I was just so tired’ or ‘it’s been a long day’ and they wouldn’t be lies but they’re not the right thing to say. You can’t keep postponing for the ‘right moment’ that will never come, can’t keep chickening out. He needs to know the truth. “I’m- I’m pregnant.”

You’re not sure how you’d expected him to respond really. You’d feared anger, hoped for joy but instead, he continues to stare at you, his brows raising in a way that implied he needed more information. He swaps your left foot for your right as he awaits your resumption. When you don’t speak he nods and states; “I know.”

“You know?” As though possessed your tired body launches into an upright seated position. “How could you know?”

Bruce smiles in response, an amused, tight-lipped ‘Are you kidding?’ smile.

“Well, to name a few things;” he counts off each observation on his fingers. “You’ve stopped wearing heels because your ankles are constantly swollen, your breasts are also noticeably swollen even under your clothes, you now only drink decaf, you seemingly have ‘food poisoning’ every morning and at no other time of day, a massive increase in urination, and my personal favourite, the bag full of positive pregnancy tests behind a crate-full of menstrual products that haven’t been used in almost three months.”

He’s trying to hide it, but he’s smug about his own detective skills. His mouth might be straight but there’s a fire in his eyes that has you drawing your legs away from him with a huff, abruptly ending the massage you had been enjoying. “How long have you known?”

“I’d had my suspicions for about 6 weeks, but I wasn’t certain until I found your stash last week.” Typical of Bruce to have figured out you were pregnant before you’d known yourself. “What I don’t understand, is why you didn’t tell me. Why you’ve been lying.”

“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have kept this from you. I was going to but…” You trail off,  straightening your thoughts as best you can and finding your composure, preparing to begin monologuing about your concerns. “I didn’t know how you’d feel about it, what with you know, already having so many kids. Everyone but Damian has flown the nest, Dick and Babs are married! They’re all so grown up, do you really want to start again? And then…”

Conscious of your rambling you cut yourself off, looking to Bruce for reassurance that you’re not talking too much, that he’s not offended by your worries. He consoles you by coming closer, sitting on the cushion beside you and easily coaxing your legs over his. His firm hands are gentle as they grasp your knee.

“And what?” He questions.

“I wasn’t sure how I feel, I wanted to figure that out before talking to you.”

“What do you think you feel about it?”

“I think I want to have your baby Bruce, our baby.” So caught up in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed your husband’s hands creeping higher and higher up your body until a hand settles on your stomach, his thumb stroking you through the fabric of your shirt. You’d been so self-conscious of its growth but as you look at it now, under Bruce’s sturdy fingers, you realise it isn’t much bigger than it had been pre-pregnancy. How tedious your problems seemed when voiced and put into perspective, except maybe one. “I’m just not sure about how… well I guess I never thought about raising a child within your lifestyle.”

“I understand.” He nods, confirming his statement. He’s done well to keep his face soft but neutral throughout, a staple of his Batman facade but also a careful way not to let his own emotions interfere with yours.

“What do you think?” He looks down at your abdomen as he considers his words. You follow his gaze, watching as his fingers lift your top, exposing your skin to him. Without warning he lowers himself to pepper your belly with gentle kisses, the ticklish motion causes you to giggle and writhe beneath him.

When he looks up at you again he’s smiling, the motion causing the scab on his lip to split and bleed. Without thought you pull yourself closer to him, using his broad shoulders as leverage. Once close enough you dab at the minor wound with your thumb soaking up the fluid as best you can and examining the cut to ensure no further damage.

Bruce watches you intently the whole time, cupping your face in his hand when you appear satisfied. The adoration in his eyes makes you feel sheepish even after everything you’ve been through together.

“I think,” his voice is low, sincere. “I couldn’t be happier to be growing our family together. I think this child, like all our children, will be lucky to have you as a mother, whatever life they choose to lead.”

The amount of pent-up tension in your body had not been apparent to you until now. Until your body noticeably lightens in response to his words. The relief of no longer sneaking around, no more fretting over how he might react has you wishing you’d done this a long time ago.

“Bruce?” You sag into his chest, breathing him in. His arms unconsciously wrap around you in response, pulling you in for a tighter embrace. “We’re having a baby.”

“Were are having a baby.” He confirms, pressing more, tender kisses to your neck, the curve of a smile apparent as his lips press to your exposed skin. "I've been waiting for this moment since the day we me. But, I think it’s time we got to bed, it’s late.”

Swift and practiced, Bruce lifts you from the couch, cradling you in the bridal position. You stretch to check the clock, 4:34 AM.

“Technically it’s early.” You jest, expecting him to punish your cheek by jolting you in the air or throwing you over his shoulder as he normally does, but instead, he chides you with an amused glare, clearly too concerned about the baby for play fighting.

“Neither of us has been to bed, it’s late.” His grip tightens on your body as he makes his way up the stairs, one steady step at a time. “And I expect my wife to be in our bed when I wake up.”

“Hmmm.” Your morning sickness has eased in the last few days, you’d only persisted in sneaking out to be safe, but he doesn’t need to know that just yet. “I’ll try, but I might be in our bathroom.”

“I can cope with that. At least then I can care for you. And we can throw out your hoard.” You don’t fuss over the likelihood of him having to rush off to save the day or for an urgent board meeting, you just throw your head back, laughing at yourself for trying to hide anything from Bruce.

When you reach the bedroom he lays you in the bed and climbs over your form. He’s in full caretaker mode, a manner you could get used to. He carefully removes your clothes, offers to redress you in your sleepwear and to bring you your lotions, or anything you should need from the bathroom.

Dawn is breaking behind your blackout curtains by the time you’re both settled in bed, entangled in each other’s arms. Sleep has nearly taken you again when Bruce whispers; “I do have one other thought.”

“Oh?" You peer at him curiously over your shoulder. "Yes dear?”

“I think you should be the one to tell Damian.”

His request hangs heavy in the air as you consider the implication. “Tell Damian that he will no longer be your only blood child?”

The room remains silent, he doesn’t expand because you know what he’s getting at. Damian probably won’t mind, because he’ll still be the oldest, the first in line and you’re certain he’ll be a wonderful older brother, he’s great with animals, so why not babies? Right?

“… That's not fair.”

“Think of it as penance for lying to me all month.” There’s an air of humour in his voice as he pulls you closer still, squeezing himself into your back and planting sleepy kisses against your neck. “Besides, he’ll probably take it better from you. I think he likes you more.”

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Never Love Another

It was no secret that when Jason came back he came back wrong. The violence and pit rage were the most obvious ones of course, but now that it had faded other little things had started to surface. He had noticed this deep loneliness and homesickness for something he couldn’t remember or name. He didn’t know what to do about it besides, well maybe try to find someone who could sooth the loneliness. But it wasn’t working, if it wasn’t for how bad he wanted a romantic connection he would have thought he was aromatic now because he never, Never felt a spark at all, with anyone.

He actually talked to Dick about it, and let him talk Jason into therapy, but that didn’t help, and when Tim found out about it the paranoid little shit started doing tests. And that was how fucking Bruce found out, and he was even more paranoid so they would not believe it was a coincidence or anything and more tests were done. No answers were found until Batman called in a favour from JLD, Jason tried to insist it wasn’t worth it but Batman said his happiness was the most important thing, which made Jason shut up and make a face like he’d bitten into a lemon.

Now he was just trying to avoid admitting that they were right. “What the fuck do you mean cursed?!” Jason demanded from Constantine who shrugged and lit a new cigarette from the butt of the last one.

“I don’t know mate,” He said with a shrug, taking a drag. “While you were dead you must have pissed off some pretty powerful bastard because it’s Not a petty curse either, not the sort of thing I or Zatanna can break. Looks like it’s to ‘never love again’ or something like that, I don’t know it’s not exactly written in words.” He explained and Jason dropped his head into his hands with a groan.

Of course, why wouldn’t this happened? Honestly though as the literature nerd he was he had to think whoever had cursed him must have been of a similar temperament, given how melodramatic is was.  He wished he could remember what the fuck he had done to get cursed like this?

“So how would we break the curse?” Batman asked, ever solution oriented.

“Don’t know Bats,” Constantine admitted with a one shoulder shrug. “I think you’d have to find whoever cursed him and convince them to lift it. They’re a seriously powerful denizen of the Infinite Realms so we could try a summoning but there’s no guarantee that is would work, and if not you’d have to go to them which would be veeery risky. I’m not sure it’d be worth it honestly, I mean it’s a bit of a blessing isn’t it? Not like our lifestyles really lend to romance,” He snickered and everyone ignored him.

“How long will it take to arrange a summoning,” Nightwing demanded with a frown, why he had to be here too Jason didn’t know but… he was privately a little grateful that he was.

“Mmm A couple of weeks, we have most of the stuff required and the unique ingredients aren’t that hard to find,” the magician hummed thoughtfully. “I’ll remind you, there’s no guarantee that it’s going to work,” he reminded and even though Jason hadn’t looked up he could practically sense the twin scowls Dick and Bruce were shooting John.

“We’re going to try it,” Batman growled and Constantine hummed.

“Sure, whatever you say, I’ll start setting it up.”

------

Those two weeks were plenty of time to panic about who it might be, what Jason might have done to cause this, and what the being might do if they answered the summons. They had a lot of preparations to do, but when Jason tried to say they shouldn’t do this Bruce and the others insisted that they needed to know ho had it out for Jason if just in case they decided to cause more problems. There was discussion about if Jason should be present, but he really wanted to be if this was happening, he wanted to see the monster that had cursed him.

Constantine and Zatanna were both there the day of, as well as Batman and Nightwing, and superman, just in case things went horribly wrong. The spell was… stressful for Red Hood, the portal it opened made him feel like he was staring into the Lazarus pits again, even if it was missing the feeling of rage.

It felt like they were all holding their breath for a few long minutes waiting to see if the summon would be answered. Jason was just starting to think that no one was going to answer when a white booted foot stepped through, followed quickly by the rest of the body.

Jason blinked, staring uncomprehendingly at the being that had answered the summons, not because they were some incomprehensible monster, but for the opposite reason, because they looked so human. Not normal, their ashen skin, pointed ears, and white hair that disregarded gravity, made sure of that, but he looked human other then that. A head or so shorter then Jason, lean and agile looking with unusually wide hips and soft curves for a man. His ears were pierced three times, two having studs like planets and a set of dangly ones shaped like a sun and a moon which glinted in the light of the glowing crown on his head. It looked like ice that had trapped the northern lights within them, it was beautiful, it took his breath away.

He had a vague feeling that the others present were talking, but Jason and, it seemed, the spirit, were not hearing them. Jason couldn’t tear his gaze away from the creatures Lazarus green eyes, why did he feel so familiar.

“Jay,” The being breathes, a bright smile spreading across his face, revealing little fangs that shouldn’t have been so adorable. “How did you, you shouldn’t have called me, I don’t… You don’t remember me do you? You shouldn’t,” He breathed, the smile dropping as the initial joy at seeing Jason overtaken by worry.

“We want to know why you cursed my son!” Batman shouted, suddenly cutting through the odd, tunnel version they’d both been trapped in and sending them both reeling. Jason had been leaning forward and ended up stumbling.

“Oh,” The creature sounded, his brows furrowing as Jason finally looked around and noticed how Constantine was cowering.

“Batman! Don’t yell at the fucking king of the Infinite Realms!” Constantine practically squeaked. The king?! How had Jason pissed off the king?! “We’re so sorry for disturbing you your Majesty, please don’t destroy us,” the wizard said, sounding like he was on the verge of a panic attack.

The being still in the circle cackled and crossed his legs under him, sitting on air at the odd cape that looked like it was made of the night sky billowed behind him. “Don’t worry I’m not planning on it, honestly, I am happy to see you again Jaybird,” He said with a soft smile, his gaze going back to Jason like he wanted to drink him in. “You’ve grown so much pretty-bird, are you happy? Do you like being alive again?” He asked worriedly. “You’re always welcome back-“

Nightwing read that as a threat that this supposed King was going to kill Jason again and yanked him back, standing between Jason and the stranger, even though he was shorter and slimmer then Red Hood. “He’s not going anywhere! Why did you curse him?” Nightwing demanded again.

“It wasn’t a curse, it was a price,” Phantom said with a frown. “I would let him go, but not to love another.”

“Love, another?” Jason asked this time, his voice harsh and soft. God how his heart ached, why couldn’t he remember something that made him feel so much longing and pain?

“Another,” Danny said, his voice softening again. “While you were in my realm we were… Close, very close. But you couldn’t let go of life, you weren’t ready to give yourself to me, not fully,” Danny bit his lip for a moment. “It hurt, but I only wanted what was best for you Jay, so if you had unfinished business… well, I let you leave. I did! I let you go, but-but maybe I was selfish, I was going to be waiting decades for you and-and I couldn’t stand the idea of waiting that long only for you to have fallen in love again with someone in life and, even after dying and remembering me, choosing to stay with them! So that was the deal, you get to live again, but only if you don’t love again, and you come back to me when you’re done. You agreed.”

There was a long silence as everyone processed what the king had said, it was Constantine who reacted first, rounding on Jason. “You dated the King of the Infinite Realms!?” He demanded, flabbergasted.

“Ugh, just call me Danny, I’m the king sure but I don’t care much for the title,” The bring in front of them corrected with a grimace.

“Danny,” Nightwing said, holding out his hand in a sort of placating gesture. “Can you… change the price?” He asked uncertainly.

“NO!” Danny said instantly, his voice echoing in a way that made those present flinch. “No, the deal still stands. I let him leave my kingdom, but I won’t completely give him up. I can’t, I can’t,” Danny said and Jason could swear he saw Danny’s eyes glimmer with tears.

“It’s alright,” Jason said, softly as he could, Danny’s pain called to him in a way he couldn’t explain. “It’s just, I’ve been lonely, I’ve felt like I’ve been missing something since I came back. I thought it was love, but now I think, I think it’s you. I’ve been homesick, for You,” He said, stepping closer again and holding out his hand. John yelped when Jason broke the circle, but he was being ignored.

Danny’s eyes widened in shock, then welled over with tears as he reached out and took Jason’s hand, his feet landing back on the ground as he stepped closer. “I’ve missed you too Jaybird, I’ve missed you like you wouldn’t believe,” He practically whispered. As he stepped over the line a white ring ran up and over his body, leaving a- well, for all appearances a human man with similar features and inverted colours, maybe a little younger then Jason. “I’m sorry you’ve been lonely, but I wanted to let you live your life. If you want, I could visit more? I would be happy to put in the work to, start over, let you get to know me in this life?” He laced their fingers together, taking Jason’s other hand as well, standing chest to chest and looking up at him through dark lashes, framing beautiful clear blue eyes.

“I would love that,” Jason breathed. Startled by a sound of disbelief behind him, he’d forgotten Nightwing was there and he glanced back. “What? It solves the problem of me being unable to love, it turns out I was just trying to love the wrong people.

[silverwhittlingknife]

How would you describe Tim's people skills? Especially when you compare them to Dick's?

Hi anon, this was a fun ask!! I picked out a few panels for each of them (comforting friends, a bit out of sync with friends, fighting with friends, and offering practical support to friends) just to get a quick look at their people skills in action, and then I rambled on about my thoughts on their strengths and their weaknesses.

(Caveat: I'm going to try to focus on my ideas about differences between the two of them, since we're comparing, but I do think they're socially more similar than not, so you might also want to check out @bitimdrake's post on Dick and Tim's similarities for the big picture!)

Short version: I think they've both got good people skills. Dick's are a bit better and more natural, whereas Tim's are more practiced and learned (in ways that sometimes show).

Let's start with Dick first, and then I'll get back to Tim.

Dick

Comforting friends in Titans Secret Files:

Dick: Will you go back in there and sit down? This is my house. You don't need to clean up after me! Donna: I know, I just... I just ... Dick: Hey, hey... what's the matter? Donna: Nothing. It's nothing. Dick (reaching out to supportively grip her shoulders): Donna, this is me here, remember?

A bit out of sync with friends (but still getting along well) in Titans 3:

Dick: The movie runs 98 minutes. So if we fast-forward past the coming attractions and watch only half the credits, I can still make it back to Blüdhaven in time to - Roy: Nightwing, chill. Team morale demands that you relax and enjoy yourself.

Fighting with friends in Titans 13:

Dick: We haven't used it much, Changeling. But that's gonna be different. Starting right now. Our performance against Tartarus and the HIVE was unacceptable. Each and every one of you should thank God you weren't killed. Kory: How dare you? How can you just stand there talking to us like we're a military detachment -

Giving support to relative strangers in Nightwing 87:

Neighbor 1: Oh, he - he's a true gentleman, you know? Always holds the door, or helps me up the stairs with my groceries if we both come in at the same time... Neighbor 2: ...used his motorcycle to jumpstart my car one morning and even got my brother-in-law a job with Wayne Enterprises when he got laid off... Neighbor 3: ...and he's very, very, very nice and doesn't talk down to me. Plus he lets me use his basketball.

Offering practical support (making dinner) in Prodigal:

Tim: I can't believe you can actually cook... Dick: I like to eat. Tim: So does Bruce - but he had to order Chinese last night. Dick: That's where I'm one up on him - I've lived on my own without an Alfred. Still miss him, though... He was good for a lot more than cooking and cleaning. Tim: Yeah. But at least we don't have to miss him on empty stomachs.

Strengths:

I think Dick's people skills are pretty simple: he has them! He's good at people! And I tend to think of Dick's people skills as so automatic they're mostly instinctive. It's not something he really has to think about because it's so ingrained in him. A combination of natural talent plus a childhood spent around sociable performers means Dick's just really highly attuned to the people around him.

And I don't think he's particularly obvious about it. So e.g. you could be having a conversation with Dick where he didn't seem like he was paying close attention, but if there was An Important Moment where you got anxious for a moment or let something important slip or let a bit of anger show through etc. - Dick will have picked up on it, even if it's unconsciously, and it'll stick with him and come back to him later.

And just generally - I think Dick has good instincts for who he can trust and who he shouldn't trust; when he's treading on conversational landmines he'll often pick up the unease even if he doesn't have the context to know why there's a problem; if he's trying to comfort and trusts his instincts he'll often do the right thing even if he can't justify in words why he felt like that was the right thing to do.

So I think for Dick, there's always the level of conscious awareness - the things he's aware he knows, if you will - and the level of unconscious awareness - things he senses, but maybe can't explain, or maybe doesn't want to know so he's suppressing the thoughts.

So he's good at leading, and he's good at comforting, and he's good at listening, and he's good at figuring out the right thing to say...

Like, he's good at all of it, so it's actually sort of difficult to elaborate because there's just not that much nuance? Given any particular interpersonal situation, Dick has an excellent chance of getting a quick read on some random guy he's just met and then getting the reaction he wants pretty fast, whether it's intimidating the guy or comforting him or getting him to cooperate or taunting him until he loses his temper, etc etc etc.

Obviously Dick's not a mind reader, and he can get things wrong, especially when he's in the throes of one of his own personal crises, but generally I think Dick's very very sure-footed with people, even with strangers.

Weaknesses:

This isn't a weakness precisely because Dick's usually doing it on purpose, but he'll sometimes have fights with his friends because they think he's acting overly professional/detached and he thinks they're not being professional enough. So e.g. in Titans 13, you can see Dick's set up the room almost like he's leading a business meeting, and he's the boss lecturing them, and they're reacting by getting mad at him. Part of this is basically a Traditional Bat Problem - Tim's friends also balk because they feel like Tim's keeping them at a distance - but Dick tends to lean especially hard on "I'm The Leader Here So Shut Up And Do What I Say" professionalism / distancing.

When things are going well, Dick's friends may grumble at his intense professionalism but basically appreciate it (this is basically how things go in their reunion in TT vol 2); when things are not going well, though, it becomes a point of tension. Generally, Dick gets extra-professional as a coping mechanism when under stress, as here in TT vol 2 12:

To the extent that Dick falters with social skills, it tends to be almost exclusively with people he knows well, not with strangers. Dick sometimes struggles with maintaining relationships, largely because he's often juggling multiple responsibilities; he'll sometimes get hyperfixated on something and deprioritize his more stable relationships (so e.g. when he gets fixated on trying to fix Blüdhaven and gets distracted from his relationship with Babs).

Somewhat relatedly, if things start going wrong in his own life, he tends to self-isolate out of shame and avoid everyone he thinks of as more put-together. So, for example, in the aftermath of Blockbuster, he's a self-destructive mess who's trying to dodge and/or drive away Clark and Roy and Tim (all people who care about him and would want to help), but Sophia Tevis and Rose are two messed-up young strangers in trouble and their obvious neediness trips his "urgency" meter, plus he may be a mess but they have no context to realize that so he doesn't feel so self-conscious, and he's able to be drive-by super-helpful to them and then dive right back into privately self-destructing.

Also not a weakness per se, but he tends to be a bit of an introvert in general - he and Wally are close, but they go long stretches of time without catching up; when he's spending time with friends, usually it's Donna / Wally / the Titans / Tim visiting Dick rather than the other way around; he's more likely to get cajoled into joining a team than the other way round - Wally talks him into rejoining the Titans and Roy talks him into joining the Outsiders. He likes people and likes spending time with friends, but he's usually not the one initiating a social gathering. He's self-aware about this; in Titans 9, he muses, "It's not the newness that's the problem. The problem is the old stuff. The ruts. You know someone long enough - well enough - and you fall into a rut with them... you completely take the relationship for granted..."

Relatedly, because Dick's pretty self-contained, he has a recurring problem where loved ones interpret him as distant or detached or indifferent even when he's still passionately attached - both Kory and Babs break up with Dick in part because they feel like he's not really that committed to them (also there are mmm Problematic Plotlines involved but I'm ignoring those for the purposes of this post), and in both cases IMO they're misreading him. He's deeply upset by both breakups and responds with big declarations of feeling and, uh, proposing marriage shortly afterward. (Okay, so he's not ALWAYS sure-footed sdfdsfs)

When Dick's getting something wrong, it's usually because he's upset and overcompensating - when things with Kory and Babs are tense, he tries to fix it with Big Gestures; when Vic's mad at him about spying, he missteps with an elaborate secret plan culminating in a big dramatic offering of a new body which Vic does want... but he's still understandably miffed at Dick for making a bunch of decisions behind his back instead of talking to him. Dick guesses right about something Vic will want, but because Dick when he's feeling guilty tends to slide into I-Am-The-Leader, I-Must-Fix-Everything-By-Myself, I-Am-Responsible-For-Everything mode, he forgets that the whole original problem is connected to not respecting Vic's autonomy / right to make decisions for himself, and that a better gesture would be asking Vic what he wants instead of once again making decisions on his behalf without consulting him. (I'm sympathetic to Dick's spying-on-Vic plan on account of how Vic did turn into an evil moon for a bit - comics are bonkers, you guys sdfdsfs - but I'm also very sympathetic to Vic feeling that he deserved fuller disclosure here.)

And you can see similar patterns in lower-key conflicts too: every time Dick gets accused of being just like Batman, it's usually because he's coming off as harsh or detached or uncaring (sometimes on purpose because he's pushing people away; sometimes just because Dick handles grief and fear by shutting down; sometimes because his the-buck-stops-here leadership style can come off as overly-detached), even though Dick actually cares SO SO MUCH, all the time, about everyone he knows.

But honestly... these weaknesses exist, but they're minor in comparison to his strengths?? Dick's a guy with a lot of very strong friendships for a reason. He's true as steel and once he cares about you, he cares about you forever. <3

OKAY! So that's Dick. Let's finally move on to...

Tim

Comforting friends in Joker's Last Laugh 3:

Tim: Babs? Is everything okay? (hugs her)

A bit out-of-sync with friends (but still getting along well) in Young Justice 7:

Cassie: A campout isn't a campout without a real fire. It's no fun at all. Tim: But the generator is far more efficient, Cassie. It's non-polluting, it poses no threat of forest fire, and it's... it's ... (taking in everybody else's expressions, sighing, reversing course) It's no fun at all. Impulse, can you...?

Fighting with friends in Adventure Comics 3 (stonewalling, avoidance, and lying!)

Conner: You weren't picking up. Tim: I didn't know it was you. Conner: I turned off my caller ID blocking. Tim: I was busy. I am busy. Conner: Too busy to talk to your best friend? Tim: Yes. No.

Giving emotional support to relative strangers in Robin 98 / 100 / 156:

Wesley: I just wanted to thank you. They tell us at the meetings that it's important to let people know how you feel. You did a lot for me - making me sober up. If you hadn't taken the time to notice - (Later) Tim: You're gonna stay strong, right? (Wesley: Right.) Tim: You're gonna stay sober, okay? (Wesley: Okay.) Tim: You're gonna do it 'cause - Wesley: 'Cause if I don't you'll come back and kick my butt all over campus. Tim: Uh huh.

(The redhaired guy was about to jump. Tim convinces him to sit down and talk first.) Tim: So, you're in college? Guy: Yeah, I'm a freshman. How'd you know? Tim: Just a hunch. I'm guessing you don't like it much. Guy: I always hated high school. Always felt like I was outside looking in, never part of any group or anything. I was on the diving team but even then I didn't feel like part of it. The only good thing was that was where I met Lori, my girlfriend.

Offering practical support (medical care and tea) in Batgirl 59:

Tim (treating her injury as she shares her traumatic past): Whoa. That's ... horrible. Cass: That's nothing. Stephanie and I used to laugh about - oh... uh... never mind. Wait, Tim. I... I'm so ... stupid, I don't - Tim: You're not stupid. Want some tea? Cass: I ... uh... yeah. Thank you.

Strengths:

Tim! I think Tim's also pretty decent at people - not as good as Dick, but hardly anyone is?

I tend to think of Dick as instinctively good at people, and Tim as more consciously good at people.

Tim spends a lot of time being intentionally watchful: observing, spying, psychoanalyzing people, paying careful attention to what they say, thinking about what makes them tick. (And Tim psychoanalyzes himself, too. Tim is studiously engaged in the study of Tim, and of Tim's friends, and of Tim's family. He's often playing a role, even when that role is "Tim Drake.")

So e.g. in Red Robin, at one point Tim has an elaborate domino-falling database where he's compiled a list of villains he wants to fight and how he wants to fight them, all leading up to a very careful takedown plan for Boomerang where he's thought through and anticipated Boomerang's every move ahead of time... and he's basically right! He gets it all right!

And this kind of intensely-studied logical chess-game of "he will do this for this reason, and then this for that reason, and the other people will respond in this way, like a series of dominos, and I've thought through all the possibilities" is Very Tim to me, and I feel like... this is just the sort of thing that Dick would never ever do?

And mostly Dick wouldn't do it because he wouldn't have to. When Dick's skeptical of James Gordon Jr., he goes to talk to the guy and feel him out, and he ethically feels obliged to give him the benefit of the doubt because there's no evidence against him, but he's got a bad feeling and doesn't trust him and secretly slaps a tracer on him because he's got an instinct he'll want it, and he's right: James Jr. is up to something, and that tracer is exactly the thing that Dick needs.

And similarly if Dick wanted to goad James Jr. into doing something, I think he'd go off and meet him and goad him into doing it, and he'd have an instinct for what to say to make that happen - I think the whole elaborate domino plan that Tim comes up with for Boomerang would feel unnecessarily complex to Dick. Not that Dick doesn't make complicated plans, because he absolutely does, but Dick doesn't usually overthink people.

Similarly, if Dick had been the little kid in Lonely Place of Dying, he'd have gotten worried and gone straight to Bruce and talked to him, not gotten worried and taken photos of Bruce from a distance and then come up with an elaborately overthought plan to go to New York and track down his estranged son and fix him that way. And, like. Kid!Tim's not entirely wrong! He's correctly picked up on a very real and very strong connection between Bruce and Dick even though he doesn't know either of them! And given how little actual information Tim has, this is actually an impressive plan (it's a bad plan, because Tim doesn't know about their fights, but it's an impressively solid plan given that his entire information basis is "watched them from a distance and collected news reports"). But this isn't how Dick thinks about people.

Backing up to a more general point: Tim values people skills really really really highly. I think "uses interpersonal skills to help and comfort other people" is one of Tim's highest values and arguably the highest value - he imprinted on Dick because he was kind, and then imprinted on Batman because he was comforting Dick. And he has six million After-School-Special-style plotlines where he tries to comfort / advise / rescue / etc. people in various stages of emotional distress and who are using bad coping mechanisms. His very first outing as Robin involves talking down a semi-suicidal shooter; the big finale of YJ has Tim talking Secret down from her rampage; he's very gentle when he's comforting his girlfriend after she confides in him about a maybe-attempted-rape; he talks down a suicidal college student in Robin; plus there's the entire concept of "Batman needs Robin" in the first place; not to mention his obsession with the importance of friends; and so forth.

So it's something that he's good at because it's something he values and works at. His people skills are conscious and learned. He does a fair bit of amateur psychoanalysis of other people's problems, and he's generally good at identifying the problems, even if he's not always great at fixing them. And he's often playing a role, or imitating other people, rather than being himself; he invests a lot of time constructing alternate identities; he's often more comfortable wearing a mask. (It is just so typical of Tim that his civilian friendship group is the DCU version of D&D players.)

So his practiced-people-skills work decently well, because he's diligent and he cares a lot, and he's better at people when he's older than when he's younger. And he's extremely good at things he's had a lot of practice with, like meeting new schoolmates, or making small talk, and he's friendly and he likes people, and he's good at learning scripts and following them, and he only tends to misstep when he's distracted or unusually anxious or when he's in a situation where normal social norms don't help. (Of course, since he's a vigilante and not an ordinary person, distracted / unusually anxious / weird situation are all things that happen more often than you might think!)

I also think Tim has a few caretaker instincts that have become automatic - generally he's hyperaware of when people are upset and usually tries to reach out or fix it, and even when he's trying to keep himself at a distance he'll slide into caretaking sometimes - so e.g. there's that moment in Batgirl with Cass when Tim's kinda upset with her for siding with Batman (and distancing himself from other people in general), so he's not intending to get close to her, but also what we see him doing is treating her wounds and then getting her tea. And meanwhile Cass actually wants to reach out, and she's intensely observing him and worrying and wanting to help, but what she actually does is... drink the tea. That Tim got her. While she stays firmly on her side of the couch.

(I tend to think of Cass as slightly similar to Tim but at the very very very beginning of her learn-to-people journey here? Like Tim, she cares!! A lot!! And she's successfully understood that Tim's upset, and she knows when she's put her foot in her mouth. But she's not sure what to do yet.)

Weaknesses:

Tactless! This is a tricky word because I think people sometimes hear 'tactless' and misunderstand it as 'generically rude,' but that's not quite the issue - Tim's quite polite most of the time; his problem is that his default mental monologue is very detached / psychoanalyzing / analytical, including about himself and things he's emotional about. He'll often be analyzing his own emotions even in the process of having them (I also talk about this a little here, though it's mostly a post about Dick and anger), and Tim's also constantly analyzing other people.

This means that if he doesn't edit his brain-to-mouth filter, he can come off as too detached or professional or calculating.

This is obviously similar to Dick's problem of coming off as too detached / professional - again, they're both Bats - but it's not quite the same thing, and I think this distinction is most obvious if you look at the places where they're doing it on purpose and picking fights:

Dick's most likely to pick fights by pulling rank: "I'm the boss, you all fucked up this mission and you better not do it again, shape up or shut up." This is a kind of distancing that's about Dick-the-impassive-boss and you-the-subordinate.

By contrast, Tim's more likely to pick fights via hostile psychoanalysis: "I notice you're being snide about Cass again, but we both know you're actually just mad that Bruce cares about her more than he cares about you." When he's miffed, both his inner monologue and the things he says tend toward 'uncharitable analysis of your emotional weaknesses,' and this is something he periodically directs at Bruce / Jason / Damian. This is a kind of distancing that's about Tim-the-hostile-analyst and you-the-unfortunate-target-of-analysis.

(Caveats: I don't think Tim's above trying to pull rank if he can, but he rarely has the opportunity; Dick's not above jabs at other people's weaknesses when he's very defensive and feeling attacked - junkie, elevator - but IMO he's more likely to pull rank, whereas Tim's jabs are more likely to be wrapped up in insulting psychoanalysis, so e.g. Jason's insecurity is his problem. The Jan Brady of the Batfamily.)

You can see related similar-sounding-but-different issues if you look at some of their respective breakups. So e.g. Dick has a breakup with Babs in which she thinks he doesn't care about her, and Tim has a breakup with Cassie in which she thinks he doesn't care about her. And these breakups are different for six million reasons (among other things, Dick and Babs have a pretty intense romance, whereas, uh, Tim and Cassie have had one date and IMO she's very right that they're better off as friends).

But you also get some useful character notes:

Babs is wrongly anxious that Dick's mostly in love with nostalgia for their past rather than the person she is now (he 100% does love the person she is now!) and she's being unfairly bitchy about Catalina, but she's also correctly noted that he's gotten into the habit of deprioritizing their relationship in favor of vigilante busywork & that he's been a bit pushy in swooping in protectively rather than letting her fight her own battles, so when she's accusing him of being a control freak it's not completely coming from thin air; Dick responds by getting hurt, upset, and direct (he gets furious and punches something, but then makes a big sweet sincere emotional speech to her about how much he cares and values her, albeit one that's so caught up in his own emotions like wanting to "protect" her that he's not slowing down enough to take in her insecurities).

Cassie has correctly realized that dating Tim is a bad coping mechanism and she really needs to just deal with her grief over Conner; when she starts crying, at first Tim moves to comfort her, but when she actually clarifies the breakup, an upset Tim responds by aggressively de-emotionalizing the conversation and pretending he's being totally logical and not emotional about it - he first wonders aloud if he's a bad detective for not seeing it coming and then attempts a bonkers guilt-trip suggestion that it's their duty to date in order to uhhh avoid turning evil in the bad future (sdfsfdsfdsfds sure tim nice try)

This isn't because Tim literally doesn't have feelings, because of course he does! But often, the more upset he is, the worse he gets at clearly expressing those feelings, and the more he intellectualizes them or avoids discussing them.

(Caveat: The trouble with any distinction is that it's easy to exaggerate it in ways that are oversimplified, and I want to emphasize that this doesn't reduce to "Dick always expresses emotions, Tim is never emotional," or anything like that. Dick has a bunch of complicated feelings about the intensity of his emotions because he values control and detachment and often is trying to be more detached (I talk more about this in the context of anger here and here); Tim often retreats to faux-analytical detachment when he's actually very emotional; and these are tendencies rather than one-note 24/7 truths - Dick is completely capable of intellectualizing away his emotions; Tim is completely capable of just getting straightforwardly and directly upset. But if you're looking for broad distinctions, I think it's fair to say that Dick's usually better at directly using his words and expressing his emotions, even if he sometimes feels self-conscious shame about it later, whereas Tim tends to self-sabotage and deflect and hide by producing intellectualized faux-logic instead of just being direct about what he wants or what he's feeling.)

An unrelated issue is that Tim also tends to get intrusive when he's anxious, and it gets worse the more he cares about you. Tim really really really wants to know what's going on and has an intense Need To Help, which generally works out for him - this is the entire reason he pushes his way into the Batfamily! - but it's easy to imagine Tim running into people who might not appreciate his busybody sneakiness; so e.g. secretly stalking your friend because he has a bruise, or running your friend's DNA, etc., is... stuff that all comes from how much Tim cares, but also it involves a very fuzzy relationship with other people's privacy, so Tim's friendships that stick around tend to be with people who find this kind of intense observation to be caring rather than pushy. Relatedly, Tim's version of "be protective" can overlap with "be condescending," which means he tends to get along best with confident people like Bruce, who could punt him into a wall and who thus finds Tim's 'disapproving medic' shtick endearing instead of insulting.

Tim also struggles to connect to people for whom he doesn't have an obvious "script" or who don't respond to his usual scripts. So e.g. offering Gar a "you don't like me but let's be friends" handshake worked; offering Cass a "let's be friends" handshake worked; offering the same thing to Damian did not go over so well; and I think this kind of "it usually works so this is my habit now?" thing is very Tim, and I don't think it's the sort of mistake that Dick would make.

More broadly, because Tim's people skills are conscious and learned - the effort sometimes shows! He stares at people. He secretly spies on them. He pokes around in their secrets. Dick can be paying close attention to you and seem like he's not, so that his awareness seems effortless and less intrusive. I think Tim's awareness tends to be a bit more effortful.

That said, though, I don't think that Tim's intensely-observing-you shtick is necessarily obvious except to people who are fairly socially-skilled themselves. When I write fanfic, I generally write from Dick's POV, and I tend to write Dick being hyperaware of when, say, Tim's observing him, or trying to figure out what's going on with him. But I think of that as more "Dick's good at reading Tim and really aware of being watched, so every attempt at subtlety stands out in neon lighting," and I think to someone who's less good at reading people than Dick is, Tim is a lot subtler.

And I think for e.g. someone like Cass, who really struggles with people skills, Tim seems impossibly and naturally good at interactions in the same way that to Tim, Dick seems incredibly good at it.