#Damian keeps tapping on the glass

[starwrighter]

I am not a baby!! (Yes you are)

(Ao3) (Masterpost) (Previous) (Next)

(The eleventh chapter,)

The hatchling lay still, motionless inside his little building. His tiny body pressed against the see-through barrier wrapped in one of the creations he built. Did he strangle himself? Had Damian scared the hatchling into killing itself?  The Hatchling didn't seem scared when he'd attacked him earlier, but fear could show itself in various ways. Some tended to freeze up, some fled like cowards, and others fought for their lives with every fiber of their being..

Damian was gigantic compared to the hatchling.. The hatchling's entire body could fit in Damians palms. Something, admittedly, he'd foolishly thought wouldn't be distressing for the hatchling. 

Pressing his face against the transparent barrier, Damian listened to the chaos engulfing the bond. Not the usual idiotic rambling and tease that often clogged up the bond: grief, mourning, an overwhelming sadness from his entire family.

"What happened?"

"I don't know," That's all Damian could really say. If he'd stayed away, avoiding contact like father instructed, would the hatchling still be alive?

"Are you sure he's dead?" Dick questioned.

The hatchling skin was pale, lips tinged blue. Unmoving, chest stilled, no sign of the rise and fall of breathing .

"What else could he be, Grayson?!" He snapped, Dick went silent.

"Sleeping...?"

His gills flared, tail snapping, seething through clenched teeth.

"Do you think I'm an idio-" He started, rage cut out by a sudden movement.

The hatchling had rolled over, throwing his chubby arm over his face. A content yawn as he took a slow breath, color returning to the hatchling's lips.

"..."

"He's sleeping, isn't he?" His face grew hot,

"Shut up! His lips were blue, and he wasn't breathing! You would have freaked out too!" He snapped, watching intently at the slow rise and fall of the baby's chest.

"Absolutely, without a doubt, instant heart attack," Dick replied quickly, a tsunami of relief and concern clogging up the bond.

"Why did he stop breathing?"

"Babies do that sometimes Damian, It happened a lot with you whenever you slept," Father soothed. "Sent everyone into a panic no matter how many times it happened,"

"Karma," A barrage of his siblings coughed out.

"Are his lips still blue?"

"No," The hatchling's skin was still pale, but his lips were a light pink. Tiny hands clenched into fists, contrasting the peaceful expression settled on the child's face. A cold radiated through where the hatchling’s hand touched the barrier. Not corpse cold, more like poking your head above water during a raging storm. A closer comparison would be the barren wastelands of the void or the eerie depths of the lost river where he spent his early childhood.

The child seemed to be thriving just fine despite being out of his designated environment. From watching, they could tell the babies liked to spend their early days in shallow water, sometimes above water, before they migrated deeper and deeper. It was quite possible he’d move down to the lost river or the deeper side of the grand reef when he got too big for the shallows.

Father would be elated to have a baby swimming around in the reef. However, they’d have to guard the lost river entrances to prevent him from wandering. Although it was one of the coldest places in the crater, it was way too close to the lava zones, and even closer to the precursor settlements. 

“I think he might be a cold-dwelling species,” His family would find out regardless if he told them, and it was better for them to be aware of possible dangers before it was too late.

“Oh, do you think he’ll-“ 

“Not that cold,” The child was nowhere near the temperature of the Arctic. Temperatures far below zero and constant snow and hail storms would be too much for him, let alone traveling through the void to get there. Sure, the predators were smaller over there, but they were much more aggressive, and precursor artifacts and buildings were littered around the tundra no matter where you went.

The child slept for hours. Concern nagging at him the longer he remained unconscious. Father reassured him that he’d slept a lot as a baby too, but he’s doubtful any of them had ever been asleep this long. The sun had begun to rise again, shallows warming from the sun. It was under his impression that babies needed to eat every few hours or so. It had been much longer than that, and Damian feared he would begin to starve in his sleep if he remained unconscious much longer. 

Tap…Tap…Tap

Pitch-black claws scratched the barrier, the hatchling rolling away from the noise, arms guarding his little ears.

Tap…Tap…Tap

Blue eyes flew open, head whipping to face him.“AngeR,”

@ashoutinthedarkness @avelnfear @meira-3919 @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @hugsandchaos @blep-23 @zeldomnyo @bytheoldwillowtree @justwannabecat @shepherdsheart @starlightcat04 @stargazing-bookwyrm @pupstim @dragongoblet @noxcheshire

#dp x dc #dpxdc #subnautica au #Damian keeps tapping on the glass #Danny is pissed

[on-leatheredwings]

House Arrest

Yandere! Batfam / Bruce Wayne x (Fem!) Reader

For a request, Munchausen's syndrome by proxy with Bruce? Like, he keeps reader sick so she can't leave him or interact with someone outside the family. And maybe the rest of the batfam is in on it?

[a/n: Didn’t know if you wanted this platonic or not so I didn’t specify! In my head its romantic with bruce though lmao]

> word count: 1581

> Tw: gaslighting, munchausen’s syndrome by proxy, yandere-typical behaviors!

You sit in anticipation, foot tapping against the stone floor. There’s an entire miniature hospital set up for you down here in the Batcave. Respirators, diagnostics machines, and other expensive medical equipment that would be better served in Gotham General. 

Helping people recover. 

So patients could some day leave. 

You used to love being in the Batcave. It was the family’s little secret. When you officially joined the family, the Batcave was now your secret as well. But ever since falling ill months ago, bedridden with a sickness whose cause continues to elude everyone… being here is depressing. You now notice it’s damp down here. Dark. Lifeless.

Bruce sits at the Batcomputer, the screen’s light painting over his face in a green wash. You watch his eyes scan line after line of your results. Reminds you of a typewriter. Methodical. Orderly. Nearly inhuman. When he sighs, your heart stops. 

Fuck.

He turns to you, face grave. “You’re still ill.” 

Your eyes start stinging with an onset of tears that you furiously try to blink back. 

“... H-How ill? How bad? Am I any better?” you ask, as if bartering with him will make the situation any different. As if bartering with God ever made any difference for mere mortals such as yourself.

Bruce’s face is still. 

“You haven’t improved.” 

Your hopes crash down around you like glass. You aren’t better at all? Even though you haven’t had a fever in weeks? Even though you’ve been working out with enough energy to keep up with Damian? He was exerting perhaps only 10% of his effort, but still. Your lymph nodes aren’t even swollen anymore. Tim had told you as much, accidentally contradicting Bruce’s insistence that they had been earlier that morning. 

“But I feel better,” you croak. You hear footsteps behind you approach and you swallow drily, nearly hissing at the offender. It’s Dick, and damn him. You don’t want to be placated right now.

“Are you experiencing any headaches? Shortness of breath?” Bruce asks, eyes still trained on you. You try to recall. 

“... I may have had a migraine this morning…” At Bruce’s weary shake of the head, you blurt, “But it’s passed. I’m perfectly fine. And no shortness of breath.”

“... I’m sorry. But if you’ve been having symptoms like that, along with your being immunocompromised…” Bruce doesn’t even have to finish the sentence. You won’t be leaving the Wayne Manor grounds for a long time. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

You feel a hand on your shoulder. You look up and see Dick, whose face is somber but offers an encouraging smile. 

“Well, I’m back in town for the time being. We can hang out all the time.” His expression brightens as an idea pops into his head. “And I can call Tim, Jason, Duke–! Maybe even Cass and Steph… We can have a board game night tonight!” He sounds as chipper as you are miserable.

Damian approaches from behind, leaving the shadows. His arms are folded. “If that’s the case, I’ll humor Grayson and let him capture some of my fleet for once.” A popular choice was Risk, perfect for the family who’s entire lives revolved around combat and strategy. But you didn’t want to play Risk again. You didn’t want to have a board game night, no matter how many of the family came. You wanted to see people. 

Other people. Everyone here is your family. 

You want fucking friends again. You wanted a job again – a sentiment you would’ve laughed at even just five months ago. You wanted any semblance of a life again.

Bruce’s eyes haven’t left your trembling form once, two chips of slate-gray peering over steepled hands.

“Thank you, Dick. Damian. But I think she could use some time alone.”

Dick’s hand releases your shoulder, retracting as if burned. None of them are the boss here. It’s Bruce who is my warden, your mind whispers darkly. 

“Right! Don’t want you to feel overwhelmed.” Dick sees himself out, taking Damian with him. “See you tonight.” And that feels like a sentencing to your fate.

Now the two of you alone, Bruce stands, offering his arm wordlessly. You know what this means. You take it, linking yours with his without thought or protest. Bruce liked to ensure you were always within his reach, as if you were prone to fainting spells. This was less humiliating for you than him carrying you through the estate, you suppose. 

“Why, yes, let’s take a turn around the grounds!” you used to exclaim, making your voice posh and British, mimicking the regency romance movies you had been watching all the time. 

Now, months later, you just sullenly allow him to lead you. Your surroundings pass by and you vaguely recognize that you are exiting the Batcave, walking through the manor, and out into the never-ending expanse of a well-kept lawn. 

It’s a sunny, idyllic spring day after months of overcast winter. 

And thank god you could still traipse outside when you wanted, even if fenced in. Bruce told you when you had first fallen ill that he had installed some high-tech, anti-air pollution gadget. Wayne Manor was effectively your own personal bubble. Fresh air was the only thing keeping you sane, lately. 

You two pass by the garden, a labor of love Alfred started. You and Damian tend to it now… and mainly the latter, these days. You haven’t had any energy for gardening as of late. Fatigue is a symptom, you hear Bruce’s voice whisper in the back of your mind. But you don’t feel fatigue… rather, just depressed. But of course, isn’t fatigue a symptom of being depressed…? A familiar brain fog crawls into your mind. Your head was starting to hurt.

You look across the lawn, onto the horizon. Gotham’s dark skyline sits there, enticing. When night falls, it’ll glimmer and twinkle with light. There is a whole world out there. And, God, you love the Waynes, but they aren’t the world. You need to distract yourself. Bruce, ever the lover of pleasant silences, is going to have to distract you from thoughts that make you want to leap off the second story balcony of your bedroom.

Should you ask, “How’s work?” No. You find you don’t care. 

“How’s Jason?” you say instead, feeling Bruce stiffen at the mention of his most tenuous relation.

He wasn’t around as much, but when he was, he was always relaxing with you in your room. You have a whole shelf for the knick knacks he brings. “Don’t worry. They’re clean,” he’d snort at his former mentor, because Bruce required everything to be thrice sanitized before coming into your possession.

“... Better.”

You’re glad. That’s one good thing, you guess. 

“Bruce,” you croak. 

He looks at you, face alight in expectation. 

“Maybe I should just go,” you say, small and weak. Your eyes don’t leave the sight of Gotham skyscrapers, stretching to the sky. Bruce stills, stopping you both in your tracks.

“What do you mean, ‘go’?” he says carefully.

You remove yourself from his arm and gesture to the city. “Just go. Leave. I mean, I can’t stay here forever.” Bruce looks genuinely confused, as much as he can. 

“Of course you can.”

“No, I can’t!” you screech. Frustrated, you tear at your hair. “I can just be an outpatient somewhere– I can go for hospital treatments every week– or everyday– whatever!

Bruce places his hands on your shoulders.

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Rage flares in you and you gnash your teeth at him. By now, that all-too-familiar brain fog has flooded your brain. But you try to fight it. You have to fight it. Like trying to crawl out of rapidly-sinking quicksand, you fight it.

“I-I know what I’m saying. I’m saying–”

“You’re saying to just let you die,” Bruce sharply returns. “To give up, let you die, and leave us to grieve.” 

“No–”

“Stephanie.” 

You meet his eyes again at the name, which are resolute and as blue as ever. 

“Cassandra. Duke.” Your stomach churns, imagining their smiling faces, turned into ash as your hypothetical passing. “Barbara.” 

“Bruce,” you croak, pleading inwardly for him to stop. 

“Damian.” 

“Tim.”

“Jason.” 

“Dick. Alfred.” You duck your head and your eyes meet the ground. The listing of all your loved ones pinches your heart, and you feel nauseous. You weren’t trying to leave them. You didn’t want to leave them at all. 

“... Me.” 

Your eyes sting with tears again. Why did he have to make it sound like that? Like you were seeking some selfish want, rather than trying to improve your quality of life. You feel your ambition and desire wane under the weight of guilt. You feel all sense of struggle start to disintegrate, lost to the fog in your head. Lost. You’ve lost.

Bruce’s eyes scrutinize you.

“As I suspected. You’re acting delirious. Manic. Delusional.”

Any semblance of protest dies in your throat. 

“What?” you say. But Bruce is already leading you away towards the looming doors of Wayne Manor, away from the green of the grounds. Away from the light of the sun, and away from the skyline. He comforts you with familiar lines on the way to your bedroom. 

You need rest. Alfred will brew his tea for you. I’ll call the kids to come tonight. We can play Risk. He pats your shoulder, stroking soft, deceptively warm circles with his thumb.

“You just need some rest.” 

And not for the first time, you believe he may be right.

#yandere batfam #yandere bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #tw gaslighting #bruce wayne #mine

[thesuperiorrobin]

Rainy days~

Pairing: Damian Wayne x Fem!Reader

Word count: 738

Warning: mentions of make outs. Reader likes thunderstorms, reader and Damian being grossly flirtatious.

A/n: i have been a lot of thunderstorms here where I live.

You like the sound of the rain hitting against your bay window as you sit down next to it with pillows surrounding your body. It puts you at ease. But it goes dead on your ears as you deepen the kiss with Damian. Hands on both his cheeks as lays in between your legs, supporting his own weight by keeping both hands on each side of your thighs. As you eagerly pull him closer then he already is, he almost loses his balance—chest to chest. Oh he likes it you think to yourself feeling him lean closer in. Damian’s not the first to break free from you—it’s you who does it out of the lack of oxygen in your lungs. There’s a dazed expression on the boy's face as you pull away, his eyes never leaving your lips. He wants to go back in but he waits until you fully have your breath back, until then he fixes his bent down posture but still holds his position in between your legs.

“It’s almost like the rain puts you in some sort of trance every time” he says laughing a little as he wipes his mouth with the back of hand. A small hum leaves past your lips as you lean your head up against your window

“Rain sets the mood, No?” Your hand reaches up to trace his jaw gently “it’s very…..I don’t know. It sets the mood "

"mhm I wonder what mood that is” there’s a hit of sarcasm laced in his voice, you roll your eyes and gently place both hands on his cheeks

``please” you say “you aren’t complaining. You like this mood” he lets out a soft hum nodding gently as he does so.

“I don’t think I’ve ever complained about this mood of yours, honestly” Damian leans in closer, whispering against your swollen lips ``Rainy days like these are my favorite”

“Mine too, especially the ones where I get to have you all to myself” he goes in for another kiss and you do the same, but the sudden flash of light up in the sky and the delayed sound of thunder catches your attention as you peel yourself off him. He didn’t like it, groaning as you stared out the window with a bright smile on your face.

“Woah! Holy shit! Did you see that?!” You point out excitedly out the window, finger pressed up against the slightly foggy glass. “It looked so cool!” The mood has been changed drastically, from one mood to another as you seem to idolize the faint light and loud boom. Damian doesn’t keep his position in between your legs for long as he sits straight up and leans up against the wall with his arm crossed over his chest. He seems unfazed, but he really isn’t. He’s more annoyed than anyone at the moment. Finger tapping against his forearm as he watches you eye the sky through the window. Faint words leaving your mouth as you mumbles numbers. On the sixteenth mark there’s another flash of light and an even louder boom. You clap your hands amazed.

“It amazes me how the littlest things always pique your interest” you turn to face Damian, green eyes staring into yours.

“The littlest things are always the most fascinating” you shrug being smiling “and besides, I wouldn't consider thunder to be the littlest things. If you know what I mean”

Damian glares down at you as you laugh. “You have a smart mouth on you tonight”

“I learn from the best” a dramatic sigh leaves past your lips “we should go dance out in the rain "

"and risk getting you sick?” he scoffs “no way. I would rather prefer if you and I stayed here, in the likes of your bedroom where it’s warm and safe”

“you sound just like my mom” you frown “it’s weird”

“I think your mother would too prefer it if we both stayed inside” he opens his arms, a single for you to climb in and you do so without question. Setting one his chest and in between his legs comfortably before he traps you with his arms. “I think my mom would prefer us outside and dancing”

“No she would not”

you let out a small huff “you’re no fun”

“I’ve been told that countless times” you hear a small rumble in his chest as he laughs.

“That’s actually so depressing”

“Just focus on the thunder”

#damian al ghul #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #robin x reader #damian x reader #damian al ghul x reader #damian scenarios

[wondersinwaynemanor]

Duke's few weeks in the Manor

Damian: So, Thomas, how's the stay in the Manor? Staying with the rest of those juveniles - *sighs* with the rest of the family?

Duke, smiles brightly: It's been great. I like the training sessions and patrols, the movie nights -

Damian: So no regrets, nor second thoughts?

Duke: Of course not-

Tim passes by the room where Damian and Duke are talking.

Tim, furious: I swear to God, Jason!!! I'm burning all your books. Where the fu- where's my bo staff???

Jason: Aren't you supposed to be the smartest among us, Timbers? Find it yourself!!! And why the fuck do people keep blaming me in this house???

in a few seconds, Jason passes by also, one of his guns on his hand. he gives a peace sign to the direction of his youngest brothers, before disappearing from their sights.

Babs: No shouting in the house!!! And put that weapon away, Jason.

Babs passes by next, giving them a sweet smile, before she looks down on the tablet on her lap, loud sounds erupting from it.

Damian, raises his brow: You were saying, Thomas?

Duke: Oh yes. I said I'm not having any-

Steph enters the room with a bag of chips on her hand and some skincare cream on her face.

Steph: WHERE'S MY- Hey, kiddos! Don't mind me just *munches on a chip* 'inding for my lipstick- Oh, there it is!! And no, I'm not giving you any chips. Byeee!!

she leaves the room, loudly munching on her chips.

Damian, the corner of his mouth twitching to a smile: Yes, Thomas?

before Duke could respond, there was a light tap behind him.

Duke: What was that- OH MY GOSH! *touches his chest* Cass....

Cass, giggles, patting Duke's head lightly: Cute. Little brother.

before they know it, she's out the room.

Damian: As you can see-

Dick enters the room, smiling brightly when he sees his little brothers. he stands with his hands on the ground, landing infront of them.

Dick: Aww, what you youngsters up to huh? Up to no good, I bet?

Dick aims for Damian's cheeks. Damian lightly pushes his hands away, so Dick goes for Duke's cheeks, pinching them.

Dick, laughs: I guess I'll do it to the other Little D then.

before Duke can respond, there is a sound of breaking glass and Tim's more shouting.

Dick: Oops. Gotta check that out. You both stay out of trouble.

then Dick leaves them.

Damian, smiles lightly: What do you say Thomas, you want to visit the barn in the backyard?

Duke, grins: I would love that!

Damian: At least you have a normal sibling. I just saved you.

and Duke thinks that Damian is not quite normal, rather unique, with his pet dragon. they're all unique really.

but he wouldn't trade any of his sisters and brothers for anything or anybody in the world.

#just a very normal day in the wayne household #babs appearance i love her #she's like their cousin mama #incorrect batfamily quotes #incorrect dc quotes #incorrect batfam #incorrect quotes #incorrect dc #batfamily headcanons #batfamily #batfam #batman #duke thomas #damian wayne #tim drake #jason todd #barbara gordon #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #dc #dc comics #tw gun mention #i guess this is also kind of a prompt? #batfamily prompt #dick grayson #batkids

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Tiny ideas 2

----

1. Danny, in his new and very human black and white vigilante outfit runs past Penguin who had gotten soaked when a car full of hooligans wearing clown masks ran threw a puddle and splashed him.

Danny, not knowing who this was, tapped him on the shoulder as he ran past, running his intangibility through the man and letting the water fall off him, leaving him nice and dry again.

Penguin makes note to pay both back in very different ways.

----

2. Phantom, having been exorcisized from Amity Park and essentially banished and unable to return, roams around the multiverse looking for something to do.

Upon coming across the creepiest doll hes ever seen in a trash bin, he decides to mess with some local bat themed vigilantes and possesses the doll.

His first victim is Red Robin. Danny in all his creepy doll glory toddles out from behind a chimney as his target is running across the rooftop in his direction. Birdy stopped dead (heh) and stared at the doll.

Danny picked good. The doll was porcelain and cracked, missing one of its glass eyes and moss growing out of the empty socket and around various parts of its body. Its dress was once a lovely blue or green velvet but was now patchy and worn.

He turned the dolls head around at an unnatural angle to fix its gaze on the vigilante, its frozen polite smile adding to its eerieness, and in a moment of impulse said, "I'll see you soon." In the most creepiest little girl voice he could manage, using his ghost powers to make the words seem to drift upon the air towards the hero.

And just like that, doll Danny was gone.

RR almost frantically contacted oracle, "Did you see that?!"

"RR your signal cut out for a few minutes, backup should arrive soon. What happened?"

-----

3. Jason has been getting followed around by this wierd kid who is prime Brucie adoption bait. Kid kept jumping out of nowhere without anyone being able to sense him to ask him the weirdest questions (Damian was so startled that he nearly stabbed the kid on reflex. Not that he'd ever admit it).

The questions where things like, "Do you like books? What are your favorites? Can you cook? Do you like red heads? Do you like dogs? How opposed are you to having supervillian in-laws? What if they give you free experimental weaponry? ....how about some laser cannons and a jet?

Jason ends up getting kidnapped by this kid and dumped in from of this pretty girl as the kid tells her, "I went out and got you a boyfriend who won't try to murder you. Don't screw this up!" Before the kid ran out of the room.

Jazz was mortified.

Jason is still on the floor where he was deposited earlier, "So..." he begins, "I heard you like Jane Austin?"

-----

4. Phantom faked his death in front of the people of Amity Park, just to see how they would react to his passing and kind of in hopes of something changing. He couldn't keep sacrificing everything for these people, after all.

He did not like how the people reacted. Danny had to move away cause if he heard one more person say it was a good thing "that monster" died hes going to hurt someone.

Gotham seemed lovely this time of year and its one place that neither his parents or Vlad would visit. Vlad because if he tried anything at all the worlds greatest detective would ruin him and his parents because they once tried to hunt Batman and Robin only for Batman to terrify them to the point of never returning after they hurt his bird.

Danny got hired at Wayne Tech after submitting a wide range of devices but couldn't do much thanks to still being a minor. Thankfully Mr. Wayne was very generous and kept him housed and fed while he finished his online schooling and graduated early.

(Heavy angst for Danny.)

---

5. Danny hadn't seen Cujo in a while, which wasn't too unusual, but it have been a long time since hed seen his puppy and he was overdue a visit.

Danny pulled out his dog whistle, one normally used for emergencies and that Cujo would never ever ignore.

Only...Cujo didn't come. Now Danny goes on a journey to track down his missing dog. Following clues and trails across different realities, dimensions and universes to find his lost dog.

He did not expect to meet a bird themed vigilante along the way, not for them to insist he help him on his quest. Robin seemed very wary of the Infinite Realms the first time he entered them and had tons of questions. But bird boy was great company and Cujo would love him so Danny could deal.

#dp x dc #danny phantom #fanfiction prompts #prompts #danny fenton #batman #tim drake #red robin #yum #body horror #tw: body horror #dolls

[robinsdearest]

This isn't what it looks like

Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Five times the birds catch you, and the one time Bruce finally does.

Damian catches you first. It’s late in the night, or early in the morning, depending on how you view the clock. Six one way, half a dozen the other. No matter because your youngest is already demanding an answer for your whereabouts. He can tell something is wrong from the way you jump from your skin when he surprises you. He found you walking up the stairs from the BatCave, and your question regarding his bedtime was dismissed quickly.  You have a certain smell to you that he immediately places. His interrogation is thorough, you do admit to yourself, because he simply cares about you and your safety. He also loves his father and you can see the conflict in his eyes as the gears in his head turn and turn.  You try your very best to explain the circumstance, but you are failing miserably and cannot fully mitigate this instance. You think your secret will be revealed to Bruce before Damian gives you a slight nod after careful consideration.  Damian promises to keep your secret in return for a new pet. Your immediate question is to know which one he wants. You're not above buying compliance.

Jason catches you second. His confrontation is less aggressive than Damian’s turned out to be. You’re not even home when the Red Hood finds you. You’re coming out of an unremarkable garage when he drops from the roof right in front of you. Your yelp of surprise sends a flock of birds scattering to the wind. Jason only crosses his arm to stare at you in silence while you fidget under his glare.  You are blessedly given another chance to explain the circumstance, and Jason is much more receptive and understanding. His gaze flicks between you and the open door to the garage. When he finally spots what sits there, his arms go slack. He takes off the hood and simply listens to the rest of your story. Once you’re done and you think he’s going to call Bruce, Jason throws an arm around your shoulder and steers you back to the garage. He has a few items to negotiate for his silence. 

Tim catches you third. In truth, you had thought he would be the first to catch you. His hacking and investigative skills rivaled that of Bruce’s on a bad day and far exceeded Question’s on a good day.  You thought you had erased any trail of your small venture out of town, but it seems even attempting to cover your tracks was foolish, as this was child’s play for Red Robin. Tim sits in front of the computer and brings up a map of the area you have just returned from. Your face is hot with strong embarrassment as you grip your bag. He slowly turns the chair to face you, an inquisitive eyebrow raised waiting for your defense. You try to plead your case with hard evidence and logical reasoning: it really was a small venture, and you were only gone for less than ten hours, which is amazing in this day of age, and- In an incredibly surprising twist of fate, Tim only acknowledges your story by removing the map from the screen and deleting the record logs. He sips his coffee and tosses his head towards the exit, dismissing you entirely. Your knuckles are white and tight wrapped around your bag as you head upstairs. 

Cassandra catches you fourth. She’s so quiet, you didn’t even realize she was with you until she tapped your shoulder. Your scream is shrill and you thought the glass from the small window would burst. After your body doesn’t fail you with an imminent heart attack, you look back to Cass as her small smile grows into something more sinister.  You don’t even have a good explanation for tonight’s journey. Your plans are in ten minutes, and if you don't show up on time, your company is going to be so upset. You try and explain as quickly as possible. As she sits there and listens to you, you finally realize that maybe your kids are in on it all together and are waiting for the perfect moment to expose you. Too many people are going to know, and you know Bruce would kill you- even worse, potentially divorce you- if he found out.  She signs something that allows your shoulders to finally relax. 

Dick catches you fifth. He’s more disappointed than angry, in reality. Damian had confessed to him in a bit of panic when you hadn’t returned to the Manor after a few hours of being gone. Dick had cornered you in your study as you were finishing a few additional work papers the next day. He demanded to know why you were doing it, if Bruce’s happiness wasn’t enough for you, or if you wanted to send the man to an early grave. You could tell Dick is hurt, and you feel more guilty than you ever had before. You hadn’t taken into account the feelings of your own kids until this conversation.  You know your begging doesn’t work on your oldest; he learned his puppy dog eyes from you, and they’re not very effective when used on each other. Instead, you offer him another solution as an explanation enough. He begrudgingly agrees and follows you out of the manor. A few hours later, Dick is breathless, yet still promises to keep his mouth shut for the time being.

When Bruce finally catches you, he’s shocked, to say the least. Devastated at best.  “You’ve got to be joking.” He’s standing in the middle of the Batcave, sans any and all gear or kevlar. Damn, you had really banked on the Batman being in Metropolis tonight.  “I can explain, I promise!” You have the thought to tell him how good he looks in gray sweatpants, but his face is contorted in anger.  “How long has this been going on? How many times?” He’s circling you in that predator way that you’ve seen Batman circle villains on the street.  You can do nothing but toy with the hem of your shirt that still smells like gasoline and the outside winter air. You sit in the chair next to the Batcycle, the heat of the motor singing a few hairs on your arm.  You had finally been caught, by Bruce, nonetheless. He is for sure going to divorce you; death would be too kind. You explain what has been going on, and like too good of a man, he listens until you are finished speaking.  Bruce calls each of your kids to the cave. When they finally arrive, Bruce demands the truth. To their credit, not one of them lies, and they confirm your story. 

“Hold on.” He stops them from speaking as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re standing there, telling me, that my wife- my wife with almost no training- has been going out at night in the military-grade vehicles specifically made for fighting crime, for months, and not a single one of you was going to tell me?”  You didn't think you had the heart to tell him it was closer to a year. Damian spoke though. “Father, I found her after taking the Batcopter a few months ago.” You couldn’t sleep that night while Bruce was patrolling, so you took the helicopter to Wayne Enterprises to get a few things of work done. It wasn’t the first time you had stolen one of the many vehicles Batman hoards, but it was the first time you had gotten caught.  Bruce’s eyes are digging into you, and you do feel a little guilty now for not telling him any of this.  Jason yells from across the cave. “She had the Batmobile across town.” You had taken the tumbler out to go meet Lucius for a few improvements to the vehicle’s controls; the brake was sticking and you knew it would cause problems for Bruce eventually. You could see Jason’s shit-eating grin from your seat. Bruce held his head with both hands now. “We switched out the tires, too old man.”  Tim didn’t even look up from the computer. “Batplane. She flew to Jamaica and back a couple weeks ago.”  Bruce whips his head to you.  “Alfred said he needed jerk spice, and you know he only likes the traditional kind from the stores in Kingston!” You cry.  Cassandra is only sitting on the boat, which is confirmation enough for Bruce as he turns her way. She had been sitting in the boat cabin while you crossed the Delaware Bay to visit Metropolis for a happy hour with Lois and Diana. You let Cassandra drive the boat back while you talked about your night with the other women.  Dick calls out finally. “B, I was going to tell you after I caught her with the motorcycle.” Bruce throws his arms up as he knows that a contrasting statement is coming. You crack a small smile when it does. “But she challenged me to a race, and I couldn’t say no. She beat me across town, and the punishment for not winning was keeping quiet. That was a few days ago.”  Bruce lets out a mirthless laugh before turning back to you. You give your husband of nearly two decades a sheepish grin. He comes over and drops to squat before you. He takes your left hand where your wedding band proudly sits on your ring finger. He toys with it for a second before turning your hand over and kissing your palm. He sighs dejectedly and lifts his head to kiss you properly.  “You should have told me. I would have made time to make sure things were safe.”  “I didn’t want to worry you. Also, I can take care of myself with my minimum training." You kiss his nose so that he stops scrunching it. "Besides, be proud that our children worked together to help me keep this secret to maintain your sanity. We love you, just remember that." “So you told everyone but me and Alfred?”  You wince, and the movement makes Bruce slap his forehead. He mutters something small beneath his breath that sounds an awful lot like a prayer.  “Alfred might have been the one who gave me the keys for everything.”

#dc fanfic #robinsdearest #bruce wayne x batmom #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #batman fanfic #alfred is an enabler at his core #of course batmom knows how to drive every single vehicle

[celaenaeiln]

Bruce: *sees a motorcade come up on his right* *ignores*

Timmy in the back eying the group suspiciously: ….

*tapping on glass*

Dick: B, there’s someone tapping on my side.

Bruce: Don’t roll the window down they could be-

Dick: *already rolling the window down* *GASP* ROMMEY?! ROMMEY! ROMMEY!!

A 45 yr old grizzled man with a smoker’s voice, nicknamed Rommey by Dick: heya Dickie, how it’s going kiddo.

Dick: ROMMEY IM SO EXCITED TO SEE YOU AGAIN!

Another motorbiker with a full claw scar down his face: what about the rest of us, kid? Forget about us?

Dick: MANES! DERRICKA! IZZY!!

Derrick-I take down mercenaries for fun but let a kid I like call me DERRICKA-Rolan: You little shit, why’d we not hear from you after you fucked off to neverland huh?!

Isabella-what? Someone went missing? I had nothing to do with it, it’s total coincidence that I hated him-Hodges: Maybe he doesn’t like us, Der. That right, Dickie?

Dick: *flabbergasted* No!! It’s a long story! After I left I ran out of gas and then some girl crashed into my bike and sent it flying off the cliff but I dove off it first and then I had to walk to the nearest motel on bare feet because I gave her my shoes and then I met this half bear half man and I’ll be pleased to tell you that it was a beary bearable encounter once he got his bearings hahahahaha- *progressively climbing out of the car as the story goes on*

Bruce: Dick! Get back in the car! *having one hand on the steering wheel and grabbing the back of his shirt with the other to keep his wayward son from falling out*

Dick: Wait- *accidently twisting too far and nearly braining himself on the speeding asphalt*

Rommey: DICK!

Bruce: DICK!

Rommey, Derricka, Izzy, and Manes: *grabbing the front half to prevent Dick from becoming like two-face*

Bruce: *letting go of the wheel to grab Dick’s bottom half for the same reason*

Tim: *high pitched screaming from the back* DICK! Tₕₑ Wₕₑₑₗ! ₜₕₑ Wₕₑₑₗ!!!

Bruce: *struggling to pull his son in while the motorcade struggles to pull him out to sit on a bike thus leading to Dick hanging in limbo out the window of a car going 80mph on a freeway* GRAB THE WHEEL TIM

Tim: *sacrificing a few ribs on the edge of the front car seat* IM TRYING! I CANT REACH THE CRUISE CONTROL AND DONT LEAN BACK AND OH MY GOD SIGN POST! SIGN POST! THE POST! THE POSSSTTTTT!!!

Dick, Bruce, Tim, and motorcade: *furious screaming and shouting and panicking*

*2 hours later*

*Arriving at the manor*

Jason: damn what happened to you lot, you look like you went through hell and back.

Bruce and Tim: *drained, pale-faced, messy, sweating, and heaving*

Dick: *a curl of hair falling elegantly into his shining eyes* I just had the time of my life, Jay!

Jason who is well acquainted with Dick’s “Time of the life”s: ah. My condolences.

Tim: Never again. *flopping on the ground and cater-pilling his way up the stairs*

Damian: Father, this is such disgraceful attire! Fix yourself at once, mother would be embarrassed by such a visage! What in holy reincarnation have you been doing?!

Bruce: Never again, Dick.

Dick: it’s nothing Dami, they were just helping me.

Damian: Father, I am ashamed of you. Why must you devolve to such a state when you assist Grayson, he is perfectly capable of extraordinary feats without your input. I suggest you refrain from interfering with his success again.

Bruce:

Bruce: Damian, you-

Dick: Bruce. *smiling pleasantly*

Jason: *immediately sneaking off*

Bruce’s life momentarily flashing before his eyes: …..nothing. Go finish your homework. *trudging off to whine to Alfred about how no one’s gonna believe him*

Dick: *sincerely* what a great day! 😊

#Alfred who has heard so many ‘no one is going to believe me about Dick’ conversations on a regular basis and is tired of listening to them: #well sir what did you think would happen when you threw an 8 yr into the Batmobile and gave him full freedom to drive #Bruce: *moment of clarity* wait am I the cause of this #Bruce whose clarity never stays: nah I can’t be the cause of this #Alfred who is used to this conversation too: *sarcastically* ofcourse not sir. not at all #dick grayson #nightwing #tim drake #red robin #bruce wayne #batman #dicks secret wild adventures catching up to him because no one ever checks in on this loose canon #jason todd #red hood #damian wayne #robin #batfam incorrect quotes #Damian thinks dick can do no wrong ever #if dick ran someone through with a sword he’d merely take notes

[confessedlyfannish]

Six Years Ago

Part 1

Part 2

Jon wakes slowly, warm and clean and strong for the first time in weeks. His stomach growls and he wants food, craves a thick juicy cheeseburger instead of feeling nauseous at the thought of it. Breathing comes easy instead of the slow rattle that was making its way through his chest, though the straps going around his face and the back of his head are itchy and the air itself is chilly, a strange icy patch around his mouth and nose amidst what feels like the best heated blanket in the world.

Strong arms shift around him, and the relief is so palpable tears of it form in his eyes as he slides them open, ready not to waste another minute of not seeing Superman, because Dad's found him—

Instead he sees a slight smile, inhuman in the jag of the canines and green eyes that glow in the vast abyss of space.

"Hey there, hey—" the man is saying, white hair drifting around his face, and he's saying other things but Jon is still looking for his Dad, his Dad was here wasn't he, those were his Dad's arms—

Except they weren't. They're this man, this alien's arms, one around his back and the other under his knees, cradling him in the flames of Earth's sun, and he was there, in the lab.

One moment Jon had been hiding from the robot that had been hunting him for days, taunting him as he dodged booby traps and ate leaves that made him sick. He'd grown weaker and dirtier even as Damian's voice in his head urged him to fight, to stay alive, and he'd fallen asleep to a violet sky and the ghost of his mother's hand on his forehead, cool against his warm brow.

He'd awoken inside of a tube, a concave shape of a person, holding his eyes open long enough to see the man peering at him as if he was an exhibit. Don't tap the glass. Or do. Jon wouldn't bite. He couldn't remember how.

And now he is here, threads of plasma tickling his skin, feeling better than he has in days. Behind the man is Earth. Home. Jon is only 93 million miles from home.

He can make it. He will make it.

He stares at the man keeping him from his home, his family, and the tickle in his eyes turns to fire in a matter of blinks. Red light hits the alien straight in the chest and with a shout, he releases Jon.

Jon wastes no time, flying in the direction of Earth. He'd struggle with this, all of this, but adrenaline sharpens his abilities. The mask strapped over his mouth and nose provide oxygen from the pack taped to his chest. He wants nothing more than to rip it off but he leaves it be.

His focus is singular, the apartment in Metropolis. He can feel his Mom's arms around him already. He's formulating what he will say to his Dad, how he will explain about Jor-El. He is worried they won't believe him. Ashamed of what he committed to and then ran away from. He told his Mom to go. He said he would be fine.

He doesn't want to think about the floating island, or talk about it, and he decides he won't. He is a runaway, a failed Superson, but he is not the boy on the floating island. He didn't shiver from fever, tearing at his cape to bandage the wounds from the robot's green metal claws. He did not scream in fear when a trick arrow carved a path down his cheek. He did not give up, covered in bush and counting his ribs like a messed up lullaby.

His Dad can make the trip to the Sun in ten seconds. Jon thinks he flies even faster, and later he will think that is the reason he doesn't notice the Watchtower is missing.

But he does notice Metropolis is gone. Instead of the Daily Planet's gleaming golden globe, he lands in a marsh. Herons fly up and away, squawking in startled choir as he touches down, water lapping up to his knees. He looks to his left but there's nothing but tourists on a floating wooden path in the far distance, taking photos of geese as they weave trails through the water that was supposed to be home.

He looks to his right, and the man from space is there, floating above the water.

Jon flies to Kansas.

By the time the man catches up with him, Jon is curled up in his grandparent's corn field, except it isn't their corn field. He digs a hand into the ground and brings up light, loose soil that tastes like citrus, acidic and unbalanced in a way Ma Kent would never let stand (and he lets it fall from his palm with a shudder, reminded of the mud on the alien island he'd eaten, before the nausea had set in but long after pride had fled). The barn at the far end of the field has a blue door, not red.

"Dad," Jon mumbles into the ground. "Dad."

Feet lightly touch down, but this time Jon knows they aren't his father's.

The man has no heartbeat, nor breath. Even the silver robot softly whirred. But the man is silent as he touches down beside Jon, who will not go back to the tube.

Survive, Damian's voice demands. Jon closes his eyes to the world, this utterly wrong world, and he flies.

#I have more for this #but gonna leave it here for now #jon kent #danny fenton #danny phantom #dp x dc #my writing

[morgansunflower]

You Deserve To Be Happy

Jason Todd X Reader

Warnings: heavy angst, injury, blood, crying, suggestive content.

Words:1429

Arthur's notes: Good mom Talia.

Damian tries to convince Jason that he needs and deserves to be reunited with Y/N. All while he tells Y/N a secret he's been keeping from her.

Damian only sees glass shards, he reaches out to the sky helplessly, never feeling quite a fear such as this. He hoped somehow someone would catch him. He thought he was strong enough to face Ra's alone...

Just as he feels that it would be his end. A arm catches him. The young man holds the injured Robin landing onto a roof top. He didn't have time to personally strangle Ra's for trying to kill his baby brother.

Damian is gently placed on the ground. He gasps seeing the face of his dear brother. It couldn't be him, he hadn't seen him in many months. He must be hallucinating.. Damian feels his eyes shaking as he had spent many days fearing his brother would never return.

Jason didn't say a word as he gently bandages his wounds from the glass shards. Jason tapped the emergency button on his utility belt. He moved to touch Damian's forehead to attempt to calm him down. His hand stopped hearing the bat-mobile. Damian gripped his wrist with what very little strength he had. Knowing well his brothers instincts were to flee.

Jason looks seeing his desperate pleading eyes for to him to stay with him. It broke him to leave him again. As much as he wanted to be there for him. He couldn't.. He can't. So much of his pain lingered and he could hardly even bear to think of seeing Bruce again.

"I'm sorry"

"NO!! NO!!" he begged now crying missing his brother

Jason shakes his head loosening Damian's grip on his wrist lowering it carefully on Damian's chest. He leaves Damian before their father arrives.

Bruce was grateful he was alone so no one would see the tears now falling down his face. All he knew was that Ra's had been in Gotham and now judging the fact his son needs help, he knew he had a altercation with Damian.

"shh it's ok you're safe now" he promised his crying son

Bruce used the spy-contacts inspecting Damian. He noticed the bandaging. Who helped him? Anyone amongst those of whom he trusted would not leave his side, unless they wished not to be seen.

Bruce lifts Damian into his arms he didn't know his son was searching with what only strength he had for the fallen Robin.

Jason heavily breathes in and then out. He was sitting on a cold concrete floor. His eyes glow bright green and flash back to their natural color. He was scared...

He still had so much built up rage. Though Bruce is Damian's father and.. He was his father at one point. He had tried to convince himself that forcing Bruce to kill Joker would prove to him that he cared enough for him to avenge his death.. When that didn't work, he disappeared... He came back to Gotham when he caught wind that Ra's was looking for Damian.

"I know you believe because your father spared Joker's life that your own life meant nothing to him. I almost killed Joker myself but.. it would only be more blood and it wouldn't have brought you back. Losing you nearly killed him. He continues to suffer every day" Talia had said to him.

Talia left for a mission requested by her father and never returned.... Jason didn't think twice taking Damian with him. Damian met his father but Jason was long gone.

Jason tried to face Y/N but his heart became blanketed in fear. Would she even believe that it was, really him? He was scared somehow he'd hurt her again. She was the first person he remembered and the one who he would think about in his darkest moments.

....

Y/N walks into her kitchen for a late night snack she turned on the lights and yelps by the small person standing near her

"Damian! Must you startle me like that" she exclaimed.

"tt you need better locks.."

"yeah I do" she agreed annoyed "is there a reason why you've decided to sneak into my apartment unannounced?"

".. I have been keeping a secret from you.." he admitted partly because he did not know how to properly tell her everything.

"ok. Do you want some tea? We can make cookies? Then we can talk about whatever it is you want to tell me"

With their tea freshly made in their cups. Damian helps Y/N by stirring the batter. His eyes gaze to the fridge with pictures of Jason with her. He looked.. Happy. He could only remember him smiling a few times during his childhood...

Damian remembered looking through Jason's drawings as a young child. Most of them were of Y/N.. Damian had recognized her to be the person in his drawings. The first moment he met her.

He wanted to tell her about Jason just as he did his family but he knew Jason had made him promise not to. Though his loneliness was going on for far too long.

"Jason was your boyfriend?"

Her heart physically drops at the mention of his name. She cleared her throat taking a, sip of her tea.

"he uhu yeah" she bitterly smiled "he was a really great guy. He was my first boyfriend and probably my last, he was a lot like you. Loved Jane Austen, after he stole the book from me" she chuckled with a saddening smile

"Pride and Prejudice?"

She swallowed hardly her grief trying to force itself, in like a knife to her back "how.. How do you know?"

"he told me.."

Utter denial, and shock "Damian are you?..." she began to cry, her body shakes.

Damian nodded. He's alive. She began to lose her breath unable to calm down. He helps her sit on the chair, taking her tea from her hands and placed it onto the table. She knew Damian could be rude at times, but he would never lie to her. He really is alive.

"deep breaths" he said patting her back.

She listened to what he told her. She began taking deep breaths in and out repeatedly, eventually calming down enough to speak.

She holds his arms with her hands "H-how? His body.." she stuttered unable to allow the painful memory to unfold "where is he? Is he ok?"

Damian explained everything to her ending with "you may hate me if you wish for not telling you sooner"

"no! No! I could never hate you. It's ok" her lips tremble as she began to cry again "oh Jason" she cried

She covered her face in her hands as she sobs. Damian laid his head on her shoulder to comfort her.

....

Jason began stepping down the ladder into the underground bomb shelter to Gotham PD his current hideout.

"here to take my book, Twerp?" Jason asked his baby brother

Damian was infuriated Jason could always know when he was there just like Talia. He could never sneak up on either of them.

Jason turns the lights on seeing Damian standing a few feet away from him.

"I told Y/N"

Jason's heart beats rapidly "you did what?!"

"you are wrong not to tell her you're alive" Damian accused

"dammit kid. This is none of your business!" he snapped taking off his jacket.

"tt you are miserable which makes it my business!" Damian scoffed

"I'm fine" Jason lied bitter

"she misses you.. She wants to see you Jason.. She has not healed from losing you.. She wants to be with you and I will not stand by to allow you to give up"

He was right. The kid was right.

....

Jason rings the door bell holding flowers in his hand. She opens the door. She grips the door handle tightly bracing herself against the side of the door. So she wouldn't fall from her knees becoming weak.

Y/N knew he was alive but to see him.. To actually see his blue eyes that she had only been able to see in her brokenhearted memories.

"I couldn't remember what fl-fl--" he cleared his throat becoming emotional "flowers you like until I remembered.. I remembered us at the.. The fair and you.." his eyes start to shake

She wraps her arms around him letting herself break, but the best thing was that it was in his arms. She feels she can finally breathe.

Jason takes a deep breath as he began to cry. He had spent so many times thinking about this moment and fearing the worst. Though it was worth it. She was worth it..

The new couple knew Damian was so going to take credit for this...

Requested taglist@too-strong-to-losee @asrainterstellar

#Jason Todd X Reader #Angst #Batfamily #Bad Ra's al Ghul #Crying #Fluff #Reunion #Damian Wayne #Hurt #Comfort #Secrets #Guilt #Jason Todd needs a hug

[judgementdaysunshine]

May I please request headcanons for Bruce, Damian, and Dick responding with their S/O to a guy high on PCP and raging out and reacting to their S/O getting badly injured while trying to stop him?

I actually remember this one 👀

Dick

He knew that someone was brought in but he didn't expect to hear arguing and yelling in mount justice going down to see you and half the team dealing with an very angry civilian you brought for medical attention but soon he got angry

The next thing he saw was the man punching Kaldur,shoving Jaime into the wall,and throwing you across the room over the island in the kitchen and into the wall across the room where you laid still

He runs across the room gently holding you in his arms as Connor and the rest of the team get him on the ground unconscious and tie him calling Superman to get him out of the cave

He tries not to cry seeing you limp and quiet in his arms being careful of moving you begging superman to look at you to make sure you were alive being told that you were unconscious and nothing was broken badly or at all

He carried you to his room staying by you putting an ice pack on your neck and side due to you having bruises there and only a sprained wrist nothing broken or bleeding internally

You wake up seeing him in his normal clothes without his glasses which was rare and surprising going to lean up until you stop by the pain in your muscles making him turn around full of tears gently hugging you

You slowly recover to everyone's relief and the man was put in prison when it was found out by local authorities that he was a longtime criminal charged for drug trafficking,assault,and murder which terrified you and everyone thankful of how lucky you were

Damian

You joined him and everyone else on a patrol in Gotham helping deal with the rise in crime with the past while

All of you split up into groups of two going around gotham starting with Barbara and Jason,then you and Damian,lastly Tim and Step each taking one part of gotham

So far you and damian stopped two robberies,a kidnapping,and four sexual assaults being thanked by each person you saved taking 3 people to the hospital

After taking a break you noticed a man holding a gun threatening a woman and child quickly stepping in and taking them to a safe place far enough near a police station going back to help damian

You both fight him noticing how bloodshot and glassy his eyes looked and a small substance on his nose immediately knowing that he was high on some type of drug but didn't know what type it was

While fighting the man managed to grab you punching you a couple of times throwing you to the ground kicking you against a wall until damian got on his shoulders hitting him and covering his eyes

After a couple of minutes tim and steph came jumping in and managing to get him on the ground with a taser until jason and barbara came taking him to a nearby police station while damian was with you trying to help you up but when he went over to you he noticed how both in pain you were yet quiet as well panicking when he fell to the ground

You woke up later in a warm bed and familiar room realizing that you were back at the manor in more comfortable clothes than your suit with damian next to you tapping his foot on the floor anxiously

He saw you leaning up immediately running and hugging you "God I didn't think you would wake up" he tells you that after you fell blacking out he grabbed and carried you back to the cave where Alfred bandaged your waist and leg that was injured

Luckily other than that you only had a badly bruised rib recovering with ice packs and pain relief quickly getting back into training and back on patrols again with them everyone always keeping an extra eye on you always contacting you on your receiver in your ear

Bruce

The two of you along with the justice league had been out on the streets in each city due to the Joker and Bane amping up their activities so you kept more eyes on each city from Gotham And Central City to Star City and Metropolis

You had fought off a few thugs and henchmen of joker's when you noticed a tall big man with a glassy look on his face clearly angry heading for Wonder Woman yelling for her look out thankfully Flash got her away just in time

You dodged and along with Green Arrow and Hawkman the three of you fought the man trying to have him calm down or tire him out so that you can take him to the authorities or straight to Arkham Asylum

What you weren't expecting was to be thrown into Ollie then picked up again and your back being thrown against the man's knee like you had seen happen to Bruce years ago making your heart stop and terrify you that you would be hurt like he was for a long while or even worse

You hit your head and blacked out not hearing ollie and Diana scream in panic,bruce to you gently picking you up in his arms running to the batmobile, or superman quickly taking the man away and straight to the closest asylum while you were taken to the ER

After being checked out you only had a concussion and a big bruise on your back and it being sore surprisingly but you remember that right before you curled yourself right before your back hit his knee which possibly saved you from a worse fate that didn't happen

You were out for 3 weeks using ice and slowly walking normally again starting your first weeks back with training then going back on full time missions with bruce always making sure that if you did get hurt that it wasn't your back or head

#batfamily x reader #bruce wayne x reader #damian wayne #batfamily #dick grayson #bruce wayne #dick grayson x reader #damian wayne x reader

[tinybirbwrites]

Losing Control (batfam/reader)

this was part of that one idea i talked about a while ago. it’s unfinished, but i thought i’d share it anyway. small warning for language and mild violence, also attempted sexual assault but it’s not very detailed and doesn’t get very far.

tried keeping reader genderneutral, not sure if i missed anything.

hope you enjoy reading!

____________

The first time it happened, I got angry during training. 

Sparring with anyone from the batfamily would rarely lead to a victorious outcome—they were too experienced, too talented, too ambitious. I didn't expect to win, but a tie would be nice. And yet, I always ended up on the ground, or trapped in someone's hold. I rarely landed a hit myself, and barely managed to dodge. 

It was frustrating, and more often than not, I found myself getting angry at the guys for never giving me a chance, but mostly at myself for being so weak.

But never had I blacked out like this before.

One moment I was on the ground, pressed down by Jason's weight, the next I was standing upright and staring down at him, his chest beneath my foot. He was frantically tapping my leg, and I realized that I was pressing down on his ribs hard enough to break them.

I immediately stumbled backwards and sat down, trying to recall what had happened, while Jason groaned and sat up. He didn't seem hurt, thankfully, just out of breath and surprised.

“Well,” he said, “that one was new.”

We didn't get to talk about what happened afterwards.

It was getting late and I was on my way home when it happened again. I remember being followed and touched by three tall guys, terrified to the point of being unable to move, to defend myself. 

Next thing I knew, all three men were on the ground, knocked out with broken noses, covered in strange bite marks and scratches. I called the police and went home, scared and confused.

_

The third time it happened, Damian was yelling at me because I had made a mistake. It was on patrol, and I usually stayed back so I wouldn't get in the way, but Dick had told me I should get involved more, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to learn anything new. But of course I had made a mistake, and Damian thought it necessary to burn it into my brain. 

I loved Damian, but I hated being yelled at. The anger came easily, and next time I opened my eyes, I was being held against the wall by Bruce himself. 

“Calm down,” he said. He was using the Batman Voice, sending chills down my spine and making me go limp immediately, scared of having made him angry, and scared of what I had done this time. Was Damian okay?

Luckily, Damian was unharmed, but he looked a bit pale and kept staring at me with wide eyes. 

I told Bruce about my blackouts that night, so he took me back to the cave to run some tests.

_

“The causes are high surges of adrenaline,” Bruce stated calmly, “In other words; anger, or strong fear.”

“So I'm the Hulk now?” I scoffed, but it just turned into an exhausted sigh. Bruce had taken some of my blood and insisted on doing the tests now instead of waiting until tomorrow. I was about ready to pass out.

“I want to see the effects up close in a safe environment. Only that way will I be able to tell what's happening to your body.” Bruce was already walking towards a platform with a big cell made out of see-through, bulletproof glass. 

“Can this wait until tomorrow? Please?” He stopped and looked back at me with a frown. “I know this is important, but I really need some sleep, and I don't even know if I can make it happen on command.”

He considered me for a long moment, making me squirm under his piercing gaze, before he finally nodded. “Go.”

_

“Damian?” I whispered, lightly knocking on his door. He had been sent away to bed early, leaving before I could apologize for what had happened. “Are you awake?”

The door unlocked, so I slowly opened it. Damian was already back on his bed, lying down with his back leaning against the headrest, arms crossed. He avoided my gaze, stubbornly staring at his feet instead.

I closed the door and leaned against it for a moment, unsure where I stood with him right now. Was he angry? Upset? Scared? 

“Damian,” I started cautiously, “I'm sorry. I don't know exactly what happened, but I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you.”

“Wasn't scared,” he mumbled. 

I couldn't help but smile. “Okay. But it's alright to be scared, you know that, right?”

He just gave a grunt. 

“You also know I love you, yes? And that I'd never want to hurt you?”

He pulled his legs closer to his chest, turning his head away more. I could see his embarrassed pout before he could hide it. 

“Damian?” I pushed gently. He let out a breath through his nose and mumbled something incoherent.

I slowly sat down on his bed near his feet. “What did you say? I didn't catch that.”

“I said,” he sighed, talking louder and more clearly, but still not looking at me, “that it's me who keeps hurting you. I knew that, but I didn't really see how much I hurt you until earlier today.”

He looked at me then, eyes full of shame, “I do not understand how you can still care about me.”

I was taken aback by his genuine words, as I was so used to his harsh shell. He rarely showed any softness or openness to anyone, aside maybe from Richard. I lifted a hand to gently cup his cheek, and he leaned into my touch like a cat.

“You're complicated to get along with, I'll give you that,” I said, “But I can see your heart, Damian. And I want to keep it safe. I know you don't always mean what you say, and no matter how much some things hurt, I will always care about you.”

He frowned, giving a thoughtful hum. “So you're just going to take the beating?”

I sighed. “Well, I don't want to, but what am I supposed to do? Yell at you? Besides, you don't always want me getting all emotional like right now. If I don't want to lose you, I'll just have to roll with the punches and deal with it and not take it personally.”

Damian gave a huff, then started shuffling around and pulling at my arm until I was lying down with him, letting him curl up in my arms and press his face against my collarbone.

“I will… try… to be less… harsh,” he muttered into my shirt. “I... don't want to lose you, either.”

_

“High adrenaline surge caused by anger is the initial trigger. It seems a part of their brain falls asleep, but the rest stays active, controlled by an unknown force that has yet to be understood. Physical changes are getting more apparent the longer they stay in that state. Increased length and sharpness of teeth, especially the canines. Aggressive behavior, borderline animalistic. No usage of vocabulary, only hissing, growling and snarling. The skin on both hands and arms starts turning dark black after one minute, and after three, the same happens to the eye whites, gums and tongue. It’s like tar slowly seeping out from every pore, covering what’s underneath.”

Bruce's notes were highly concerning, to say the least. He had kept a close eye on me the whole week, until, inevitably, I got angry during training yet again. He put me inside the cell and observed for twenty minutes, before getting me to calm down.

‘Getting me to calm down’ meant he sent Dick to make cooing noises at me until he got close enough to give me a hug. Miraculously, it worked wonders.

_

“You guys want me to listen to ASMR the whole day? So I won't get angry anymore? You do know that's not how it works, right?”

Bruce had invented a device that could comfortably be worn on my person, monitoring my vitals and sending a distress signal to the closest member of the batfamily in case my adrenaline got to critical levels again. Meanwhile, the boys had apparently unanimously agreed on a strategy on how to keep me calm, meaning they had put together a playlist with ASMR and calming ambience videos for me to listen to whenever I could feel my blood pressure starting to rise. 

It was really sweet, but whether it was actually going to work was a whole nother question entirely. 

“Don’t knock it till you try it,” Jason shrugged, then grimaced at his own words. “Fuck’s sake, I sound like Alfred.”

_

Dick and I were on an undercover mission. It was a small one, just for one night, in which we'd have to do our best to get some information out of Subject A, a thirty year old rich woman in a red dress and big red hat, and Subject B, the owner of a big company and the husband of Subject A. 

Both were insufferable, absolutely the worst. Dick was a natural at being charming and disarming, so he had no problems with talking to either subject, though I could tell by the way he would clench his jaw whenever he smiled that he was just as annoyed as I was.

Me, on the other hand, could not stand another minute in the same room as either of those two. So I told Dick I would be getting some fresh air.

And because I had the best luck in the world, some lonely rich guy followed me outside and kept talking to me, and kept creeping closer to me until he was fully in my personal bubble, completely unprompted. 

“Oh, you look cold,” he said, and because apparently he thought he had the right to touch me, wrapped an arm around my waist to press me closer to his side, “Maybe we should go back inside? Or maybe I could bring you home, hmm? You seem lonely, like me.”

Everything about this guy was creeping me out. He smelled so heavily of cologne that I wanted to gag, and he kept breathing into my face. 

“I would very much like to be alone, to be honest,” I pressed out between clenched teeth, already feeling the familiar pounding in my head. “I did not give you any permission to touch me like this, so please, kindly back off, sir—now.”

He was murmuring something about reading my body language and subtext and getting clear signals of sexual interest, but I could hardly even hear him anymore over the pounding in my ears, my vision already fading more and more into black, as my adrenaline started to rise. 

Then, suddenly, the man was being pulled away. Then I was being maneuvered to a more secluded part of the outside area, somewhere out of sight, and Dick was standing in front of me. He was holding me by the shoulders, gently squeezing and closely watching my eyes. 

He was saying something, but I couldn't hear him. I could feel my teeth sharpen, a growl rising from my throat, hands clenching and nails slowly growing into claws. 

I wanted to find that disgusting piece of shit and rip his eyes out. I wanted to cut off his prick and feed it to him until he would choke to death—

Then Dick was holding my face with both hands, leaning closer until our noses were almost touching. I could hear him now, gently shushing me like a parent would to calm their crying baby. His familiar scent surrounded me, filling my senses, calming me. I relaxed a little. My anger was not directed at Dick. I knew I was safe with him.

Then he let go of me to search his pockets, quickly pulling out his phone and putting his earbuds in my ears. A few seconds later, the sounds of rain droned out the rising violence in my mind, making the back of my head tingle and the hot anger boiling in my chest die down until my physical transformation went away as well.

I sagged against Dick's chest, feeling tired all of a sudden. I waited a little longer, relinquishing the feel of relief and calm washing over me, while Dick wrapped his arms around me to stroke one hand over my back, the other holding me closer to his chest by my neck. 

Eventually, I pulled the earbuds out and gave them back to him. I sighed, “I hate that I'm a ticking time bomb. You can't always be there to make sure I don't go off.”

“I don’t mind,” Dick said, helping me stand up. “That’s what family’s for, right? We got your back. With B’s device, there will always be someone there to help you out. If not, you can always call, no matter what time it is or where you are. If all else fails, you know what to do to help yourself.”

I let myself lean against him for a few moments longer, enjoying the comfort he brought, before straightening myself up with a sigh. “Thanks, Dick. I guess… let’s finish up here, huh?”

He grinned. “That’s the spirit!”

#batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #reader insert #x reader #dick grayson x reader #damian wayne x reader #jason todd x reader #its all kept platonic/familial #especially the relationship between damian and reader #i love when reader acts as a parental figure towards damian #its very sweet #monster reader #genderneutral reader

[starwrighter]

I am not a baby!! (yes you are)

(Ao3) (Masterpost) (Previous) (next)

(Part nine)

He lied. he's not fierce, or dangerous! He's very small, scared, and would like to go home please, thanks!

What the fuck do you mean this guys a juvenile?!!

How big do these motherfuckers get?! Danny didn't want to know. Where there's a baby, a parent is usually nearby. Danny darted further into the tube, crouching with his knees pulled tightly to his chest. All he could do was hope this guy was stupid enough to forget they saw Danny. The PDA told a different story. A brain capable of both high intelligence and sentience doesn't mean they're friendly. Danny knew dozens, if not hundreds of sentient beings that were pricks. His entire school was full of them.

This could be a local checking in with the new neighbors, or it could be a pissed-off local ready to murder whoever invaded their space. The PDA said this guy's habitat is in deeper waters. How did he already manage to piss off the locals into pulling up to his house?! Did the peepers snitch? He'd been chasing them around an awful lot, but they'd been chasing him too! Ramming into him with their stupid sparkles that stuck to his skin. If he'd known they'd call in backup he'd have left them alone!

...No he wouldn't have.

Tap...Tap...Tap

"Go Away!" He shouted. The thought was nice but Danny was gonna have to raincheck on the welcoming party.

Tapping away at his PDA, Danny rushed to the window tapping tom was chilling at, fabricating a rod and curtains.

There! That should do it. Problem solved!

_________________

"..."

"Damian, what happened?" Dick called out.

Damian could only stare blankly at the now blocked-off tube. The baby's silhouette visible through the barrier.

"He's hiding," He hummed. "I'm going to check the other side,"

__________________

Danny walked away from the curtain, turning focus to sorting his storage. It mainly consisted of sorting rocks into different lockers. Any fabric material was used on the curtain. Keeping tabs on his materials was easy with the PDA, but it also made him realize he had no food or water. Dying of dehydration or starvation didn't sound like a good time.

He turned to the other window. As expected, his not-so-little visitor had his face pressed up against the glass. Claws rapping against the glass, Danny became concerned for the integrity of the seabase. Starting over wouldn't be that hard, but he didn't want to be forced to rebuild because a sea monster got tap happy.

Tap...Tap...Tap

That's it! Welcome party or not, he had to establish dominance!

__________________

"Damian, please, you're obviously scaring them," Father started, concern erupting through every string of the bond.

"You know how fragile they can be," It's true, all the hatchlings were pathetically fragile. There's no reason it wouldn't be the same for this one.

"Mine!" Damian didn't even get a chance to respond before teeth attempted to sink into his arm.

The baby, now out of the tube, was trying to bite him. His teeth too tiny to break through scales, though he still tried regardless. Upon discovering biting wouldn't work on him the hatchling began circling him.

"go way!" The baby charged at him, slapping him with his soft, clawless hands. Anything Damian said fell on deaf ears the baby either too young to receive telepathic messages or too young to understand them.

"I don't think he's scared. He's trying to attack me," Considering how many died from being unaware of their environments, a territorial hatchling was good for them. Except this hatchling greatly overestimated who he could take in a fight.

Deciding to humor the little guy, Damian dragged himself away from the baby's nest.

"I Win" The hatchling circled the area before it quickly forgot the fight and started chasing Peepers. Catching the fish with his teeth, the hatchling picked up salt rocks and cut up bits of coral tubes. The behavior was confusing, but the hatching seemed happy with himself, so Damian felt no need to interfere.

"I'm coming over there," Dick announced.

"I recommend against that," Not only were the shallows way too small to fit both of them in this form, but surely seeing two of them would freak the child out further. Dick's scales were like armor-plating. The baby would surely hurt himself trying to bite him,"

"But I wanna see the guppy," Dick whined.

Damian rolled his eyes as he continued observing from afar. The hatchling didn't eat the fish he caught, stuffing it away into the pouch on his back until it was full of fish and rocks before swimming back to his nest. Maybe he was like father? Hoarding an abundance of materials just for the fun of it.

Complex buildings like that must take a lot of materials to build and maintain. Not as complex in design as the precursor buildings, these creations wilted within a matter of years without constant maintenance. The buildings were intended for someone who knew how to take care of them, just like the rest of their tools.

He himself once wielded a deadly weapon left behind. Sharp as a sea dragon's claws, glowing a bright red that charred the flesh it sank into. Only useable in his second form, Damian had fallen in love with weaponry. The now dull, rusted blade lay somewhere in his nest. Hopefully, the baby could spare a knife or two. The ones he'd managed to make just weren't as smooth or sharp.

Hopefully, he could convince the child to bite Drake instead of him.

@ashoutinthedarkness @avelnfear @meira-3919 @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @hugsandchaos @blep-23 @zeldomnyo @bytheoldwillowtree @justwannabecat @shepherdsheart @starlightcat04 @stargazing-bookwyrm @pupstim @dragongoblet

#Damian: Hatchling! I demand to be armed with weaponry! #Danny who doesn't speak fish: Holy shit! shapeshifting fish! #dpxdc #dcxdp #subnautica au #dp x dc fanfic

[imaginingmarvelandeverything]

Worst Nightmare

Pairing: Jason Todd (version unspecified) x F!Reader

Warnings: kidnapping, injury, mentions of death, panic attack, pit madness

Word count: 1721

A/N: Here’s part 10 of castle of glass! It’s time for shit to hit the fan! Part of this is based on WFA because I just want Bruce to be able to be a good dad to his kids. Anyway, I hope you like it!

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Ko-Fi

“Did you seriously drag me the whole way here just so you could grab something you could have asked Bruce for?” Jason asked as Dick continued wrapping up the various wires for the police scanner on his apartment desk.

“You know, I thought it was your idea to keep Bruce out of our way as much as possible.” Dick raised an eyebrow and shot him the same exasperated look he’d been giving him since he was twelve years old.

Jason huffed, knowing Dick was right. If he wanted to do what he had to do with as little involvement from the rest of the Bats as possible, they needed a way to listen in to Gotham Police for any sign of the clown. Y/N was tapped into Barbara’s software, so their own scanner would give her a way to listen in without any of the others listening too.

Didn’t mean he had to be happy about Dick dragging him along though. “Still doesn’t explain why I had to come.”

“Because the elevator is broken and I also need to grab some more of mine and Haley’s things.” Dick said, before chewing on his cheek in a way that Jason knew meant he had more to say but didn’t know how to say it.

“Whatever it is, Dickhead, spit it out.” Jason said, feeling slightly bad for snapping, but with everything going on, his patience wasn’t exactly in the best state.

Dick’s shoulders dropped and he stopped what he was doing to lean back against his desk. “I-uh- talked to Y/N, and I just wanted to check in without the others around.”

“Oh.” Jason said, his stomach twisting in the weird way it did now whenever Dick took an interest in his life outside of their vigilantism. “I-I’m good, I guess. Better than I’ve been in a long time.”

Dick smiled, his real smile, not the one he used around other people. “That’s good, I’m glad. She seems happier too. I’m glad you both figured out a way to make it work.”

Jason nodded. He didn’t know what to say back because he could tell Dick meant it. His wayward little brother and best friend who seemed to be a magnet for trouble were not only getting along but they had decided to pursue a relationship and actually take a stab at being happy. All Dick had ever wanted was for his family to be happy, for everyone to get along. Jason was just happy he seemed to have stopped being a point of stress for his older brother in that regard.

“We should probably head back before Bruce gets angsty and sends the cavalry after us to make sure we’ve not been whisked away.” Dick joked, his smile widening when it caused Jason’s lips to twitch up.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

***

Jason could tell something was wrong the moment they stepped back into the manor. There were multiple pairs of shoes by the door that had been hastily kicked off and multiple voices coming from the kitchen. He shared a look with Dick and they both dropped the boxes they were carrying by the door before walking to investigate.

All of the Bats, apart from Duke, were standing or sitting around the kitchen island, and all of them went silent as the two of them walked in. Jason met Bruce’s eyes and felt his heart freeze in his chest; the only times the old man had looked at him like that, it was never good news. But he forced back his panic and scanned the room. Everyone looked okay, except for Damian. The kid had a black eye, a busted lip, and a haziness to his gaze that told Jason he probably had a concussion. Alfred was fussing over him, ignoring the boys weak attempts to push him off. It was strange seeing everyone in one place, so strange that his brain almost didn’t notice the only other person who was missing.

“Where’s Y/N?” Dick asked, beating Jason to it by seconds.

Jason looked back at Bruce and he knew what was coming before anyone said it. But surprisingly, it wasn’t Bruce who spoke up.

“I got into a disagreement at school and I did not want anyone else to know, so I called her to pick me up.” Damian said, refusing to look at Jason and Dick, but even with his gaze fixed on the table, Jason could see the tears starting to form in his eyes. “They came out of no where. It was my fault.”

“It’s not your fault.” Bruce said sternly.

“There was too many of them, and she did not want them knowing I was Robin so she told me to run. But I could not leave her there. They hit me over the head and took her.” Damian bit hard into his lip in an attempt to stop himself crying.

But Jason was no longer paying attention. Dick said something to draw the attention of the others and he felt himself backing out of the room as the pit started clawing its way up into his mind. His vision tinged green and his surroundings seemed to disappear as his thoughts started screaming.

Yourfaultyourfaultyourfaultyourfaultyourfaultyourfaultyourfaultyourfaultyourfaultyourfaultyourfault

It was like all his worst nightmares were coming true at once. The air seemed to have been ripped from his lungs as the sound of manic laughter started echoing in his ears, just adding to the noise in his head.

“SHUT UP!” The words forced their way out of his throat, cutting through the chaos in his mind.

“Jay?” A soft voice said, but with the green still tinting his vision and the pounding in his ears, he couldn’t tell who it was. “Little Wing, can you put the gun down?”

Dick’s use of the old nickname was a shock to his system. The feeling came back into his fingers and he felt the cool metal of the handle in his palm. The side of the gun was pressed against his head where he tried to cover his ears to block out what the voices were saying, even though he knew it was pointless. He focused on breathing and the green started to retreat, even though the pit was still itching for him to get his hands on someone to make them pay. But it meant his vision cleared enough for him to analyse where he was.

He had crammed himself into the corner between the stairs and the kitchen wall, and curled himself up into a ball. Dick was crouched in front of him, clearly wanting to reach out and touch him but unsure if that’s what he wanted. Bruce was standing behind Dick with a frown on his face, but they were the only two people in the hall. Even though he knew the others were probably listening in, he was glad Bruce had apparently told them to stay in the kitchen.

“I’m sorry.” He croaked out, finally bringing himself to drop the gun onto the floor next to him, immediately missing the security of its weight in his palm.

“It’s okay. Can I touch you?” Dick asked, obviously trying to keep the worry out of his voice. But his face softened slightly when Jason nodded, and he shifted forward to tentatively wrap his arms around him. “We’ll get her back, I promise.”

He balled his hands into fists in the back of Dick’s shirt and buried his face in his brother’s shoulder, needing it even if he was still getting used to accepting comfort from anyone. “It’s all my fault.”

“No, Jason, none of it has been your fault.” Bruce’s voice cut through the air, his tone leaving no room for argument. Jason watched him over Dick’s shoulder as he crouched down to their level. “I’m the one who should be sorry. For the fight we had that day, for leaving you alone outside that warehouse, for not being there for you when you came back, and for not being the one to go and get Damian today.”

Jason stared at Bruce with his lips parted, his brain attempting to process everything he had just said. Dick twisted to face Bruce while keeping his arms around Jason, a similar look on his face. It seemed neither of them could quite get over the fact that Bruce was apologising, especially to Jason of all people.

“What do we know?” Jason managed to choke out after what felt like a full minute of him and Dick staring at Bruce in silence.

“Damian says there were around ten of them. She shot two of them, and I’m assuming she got the gun from you.” The normal, exasperated Bruce was back and part of Jason was glad. “We know the Joker’s MO by now, Barbara is already making a list of all the current abandoned buildings in Gotham and Duke is out keeping an eye on the streets. We’re going to sort the buildings into most likely to least likely, split up into groups of two and search them in order. As much as I’d prefer you didn’t due to both your closeness to this, I’m assuming you’ll want to be paired together?”

Dick pulled back, even though it looked like he didn’t want to, and looked at Jason before turning back to Bruce and nodding. “Yeah, we do.”

Bruce frowned, but nodded too. “Alright. Damian is benched for the night, he’s got a pretty bad concussion. I’ll put Steph with Tim, Cass with me, and Duke can be on standby for backup.”

“Dami won’t want to sit out.” Dick told him.

Bruce sighed. “I know. I’ll let him help Barbara and Alfred, he shouldn’t be sleeping too soon with his concussion anyway. Hopefully that will satisfy him.”

Dick snorted in disbelief.

“Will you come back into the kitchen so we can plan further?” Bruce turned back to Jason.

He took another moment to ground himself and make sure the pit wasn’t going to randomly lash out at anyone before he nodded. Dick pulled him up from the floor and gave him a firm nod, trying to reassure both Jason and himself that the Joker wouldn’t win again. That they were going to get Y/N back in one piece.

Part 11

Taglist: @fives-coffee-cup​​​ @xnorthstar3x​​​ @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx​​​ @literally-a-ferret​​​ @thomaslefteyebrow​​​ @elleclairez​​​ @shimmeringgrim​​​ ​ @throw-away-shifting-journal​​​ @egglantine23​​​ @elleraelockwood​​​ @dcgoddess​​​ @snapchatisoverrated​​​ @elisa20beth​​​ @phoenixgurl030​​​ @collaps3r​​​ @simonsbluee​​​ @pariahsparadise​ ​ @lydiaisgeeky​ @ashyvillain​ @missdayytona

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#jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd #jason todd x female reader #jason todd x fem!reader #red hood x fem!reader #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #red hood #dick grayson #nightwing #bruce wayne #titans #curran walters #dc #castle of glass

[moonlitceleste]

wish upon a moonstone (ch 6)

wuam masterlist ao3

It’s already been a few days since the end of Hallowe’en, but the buzzing of Hogwarts’ students makes it sound like they’re still on a sugar high.

Beauxbatons had been much more focused on keeping appearances compared to Hogwarts; while her former school celebrated with refined decorations and sharp reprimands of “those pumpkins aren’t for eating!,” Hogwarts seemed to be much more indulgent. She had seen goblets of colored sweets in each hallway, orange streamers hanging from the high ceilings, and a highly entertaining performance put on by the Hogwarts ghosts.

It had been very excitable, and it seems like the other students are still riding the high of the event. Professor Tyler takes longer than usual to call the classroom to attention, sighing greatly as he has to reprimand a chatty Slytherin to their seat.

“Alright, settle down,” he says, still waving people to their desks. “Today is an important discussion, so I don’t want to hear any side conversations, hmm? No need to take notes,” he adds after hearing the rustle of blank scrolls.

“This project,” he starts, tapping the board after everyone rushes to their seats, “will last the entire year.” He chuckles at the groans that result. “We won’t start until the hols, but if any of you want to get a headstart, you’re free to begin earlier.”

Professor Tyler waves his wand, and strips of paper begin to float out of the glass jar on his desk. “This is a partner project—” more groans “—and these slips will decide what potion you’re assigned.”

The students watch their fate, etched onto slips of white paper, hover before their eyes as Professor Tyler explains the premise of their project. It’s split into two parts, the potion-making and the presentation. Each pair must alter the formula of their assigned potion to change its effects, with the stipulation that the outcome must be recognizable as a variation of the initial potion. After the deadline, each pair must present their potion to the class, detailing what changes they’d made, their experimentation process, and a demonstration of said potion.

“I don’t expect success from all of you, but your presentation must be thorough in order to receive full credit.”

Professor Tyler tells them to move to their stations with their partner. Marinette does so with a looming sense of anticipation. It’s an ambitious project, which isn’t exactly the cause for her doubt— ah, there it is, she thinks, as her partner sits beside her with a scowl. She hopes they can learn to work together eventually, considering how much of their grade this project makes up. Marinette offers him a tentative smile. She receives a blank stare in return.

After a few moments of awkward silence in which the rest of the students settle down, Professor Tyler distributes the slips. It floats in front of Marinette, and she takes it from the air, opening the folded slip. Her jaw drops.

Marinette blinks and refocuses her eyes. She looks back, staring at the Amortentia scrawled on the surface.

“What is it,” Damian demands, and she’s too entrenched in her dread to react to his rudeness. Her life has got to be some kind of joke.

“Oh,” he says, the vowel containing more emotion than anything else she’s heard him say. At least they can agree on something.

·

Marinette is still reeling the next day. Unfortunately, Felix is at Quidditch practice, so she can’t distract herself from the cliché rom-com her life has turned into. Oh, what she’d give to return to her favorite sport—though she no longer minds her transfer, it’s still disappointing that she hadn’t gotten a chance to try out for the team.

She leaves the library after some preliminary research for the potions project, having written eleven inches of notes already in a haphazard scrawl. Maybe she’ll head to the Great Hall next?

Marinette strolls the halls leisurely, glancing at the paintings that cover the walls and the intricate columns that decorate the school. Now that she’s more accustomed to the school, she doesn’t mind taking her time to admire the architecture. Most people are in class, anyways, so she doesn’t have to worry about crowds of students frantically marching to their next class. As she turns the corner, however, a familiar mop of dark hair enters her field of vision.

“Jon?” she calls hesitantly, then feels immediate dread set in. Boy, it’d be really embarrassing if it wasn’t him. Imagine how dumb the other person would think she was, and knowing her luck, she’d realize she actually had a class with them, and she’d remember this moment every time she saw their face…

“Mari!” 

Jon turns around and beams at her. He looks to be in quite the upbeat mood, but she’s found that friendly seems to be his default state. After his greeting, however, he glances around cautiously and beckons her closer with one hand.

“Hey, do you want some food?” he whispers. A strange thing to be secretive about, but because she grew up in a bakery, Marinette’s answer to that question would never be no.

·

Turns out Jon’s idea of food is a painting of a fruit bowl in one of Hogwarts’ numerous underground corridors.

“Are you going to do some magic and make this fruit bowl come to life?” Marinette quips. Jon smirks instead of responding and… tickles the pear?

“I take it back. Are you on a euphoria potion?”

She considers rallying him back to his common room, but before she can act, the pear transforms into a doorknob right before her eyes. Maybe she’s the one on a euphoria potion.

“Go ahead,” Jon prompts, and she levels him a suspicious look before she cautiously puts a hand on the knob and pushes the door open.

The door opens to a high-ceilinged room made of stone—Marinette spots a massive fireplace at the end, counters stacked with pots and pans and utensils. The entire kitchen, presumably, is milling about with house-elves, save for an area to the side with long tables similar to the Great Hall.

While she’d been staring, Jon had already stepped past the painting and into the room. “Come in,” he beckons. The door swings shut behind Marinette, and she subconsciously leans closer to him in her bafflement.

“Master Kent,” the house-elf who runs up to them squeaks. “What can Mipsey do for you?” The elf’s charming dress flounces after her, the cream fabric dotted with pink flowers.

“What’s on the menu today?” Jon peers over the crowd of house-elves, looking at the large pan they had pulled from of the fireplace. “Cornish pasties?”

“Quite intelligent, Master Kent!” Mipsey praises. Her excitement has Marinette mirroring Jon’s wide smile, but she still feels a bit of nervousness. None of her friends in Beauxbatons had a house-elf, and Chloe hadn’t exactly been her friend. The blonde girl treated all her ‘hired help’ the same: badly.

“Come on, let’s sit!” Jon gestures Marinette over to the tables. “Mipsey would kill me if I put my dirty hands on that tray.”

“Master Kent!” the elf scolds.

Once his laughter clears up, Jon explains the situation to Marinette. “I come here every once in a while to meet snacks with one of my friends. Right, I hope you don’t mind if she joins us. I think you’ll get along pretty well though. Her name is—”

And of course, in dramatic fashion, said friend opens the door right at that moment.

“Maps!”

·

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#wuam #maribat #daminette #celestewrites #cel's fics

[meritatem]

Look, Selina is smart. Brilliant. An artist in her field, capable even of outsmarting Batman when the opportunity arises. She has enough skill and knowledge to maneuver the day-to-day in this cursed city, to not only survive but to thrive.

She knows all the rules of this game, she's alive because she knows how to play it well. So why, oh, why is she letting this unknown kid into her apartment without stopping to think about how much of a bad idea this is? She's blaming Jason Todd for this; it's true that her life was a bit in disarray before her encounter with Jason, but she's choosing to put more fault into him because he had to mess with her while wearing a Batman suit, so the personal offense feels warranted. Besides there's not much she can do when the kid actually knows where she's staying at the moment, only worsen by the fact that he calls her by her name - or well, last name - as soon as they get inside. It's not like she had doubts about the kid being adjacent to Batman in some way, not with all the kevlar and the expert roof surfing, but she wasn't expecting him to actually know things. Maybe this is a sign that she needs to step away for a little while, you know? To rest, heal and all that jazz.

Damian, of course, doesn't have time to wait for Selina to sort her internal conflicts, so he just takes the throw pillows from her couch and makes a little nest for the kittens on the floor, depositing them carefully in it and putting the cape back almost in one fluid motion, he then turned around and without waiting for Selina, went directly to the kitchen, prompting her to finally react.

“Where do you keep the dishes?” He asked even though he was already opening the cupboards. “And what kind of food do you have? They look old enough for something else besides milk.”

“Hold on,” and acting like this wasn't not unusual at all, she took off her goggles off and left them in the counter, tapping with her hand in passing one of the cupboards. “The bowls are there.”

Selina didn't have a cat of her own but she had the habit of feeding the stray cats that sometimes visited her balcony, so she had more than enough cat canned food, even if said food was more suitable for adult cats but going to the pet store wasn't an option at the moment, so for now it'll have to suffice. As soon as she poured the food into a bowl, Damian seized it, hurrying back to the cats while she took off her cowl, leaving it in the same place as her goggles before running her fingers through her hair, shaking it. For a moment she considered that maybe a glass of rum was in order, I mean, it was past two in the morning and she had an unnamed vigilante child sitting cross-legged in her living room, happily helping some kittens to eat from a feeding bowl that was a bit big for them... that surely entered in the territory of “I need alcohol for this”, but that also seemed exactly like not the thing to do with a kid present, especially when said kid apparently knew all her secrets.

“So,” she started, like she was continuing with a previous conversation. “What's your name?”

“No One.” He answered like he did that first time when he met Colin again. “That's what I go by.”

“Really? Sounds a little uninspiring.”

“I won't take criticism from someone calling herself Catwoman.”

“I hope you have this opinion for Batman too.”

“Batman is a simple and evocative name, easy for the vermin to remember and cower to. It's not the same.”

“You're biased because he's your boss.”

“He's not my boss, I answer to no-one but myself.” Which was a lie, because he did ask for Pennyworth's authorization for some things, but Kyle didn't need to know that. 

In the course of the conversation, Selina started to move in the kitchen after finally deciding that tea would be best, maybe with some luck it'll really help her relax; seeing the situation she was in, seemed doubtful but it was worth a try.

“Do you want some tea?” She asked out of politeness, even if there was nothing polite about this.

“I'd accept hot chocolate, if you have it.”

“Sorry, dear, not at this time. How about milk with honey?”

“No, thank you.” He said, turning his nose with disdain.

Selina was sure this was the first time she hear someone showing so much contempt at the simple mention of milk. It was kind of funny coming from a child that definitely needed the calcium.

“So,” she said again. “How did you end up as Batman's associate?”

“By misfortune.”

Yeah, no, on a second thought she's not going there. “Ah, don't we all? It's always like that when he's involved, isn't it?” And there was a sense of nostalgia in her words, but it was only momentary. “But enough of this, let's talk about what are we going to do with these kittens,” that had to be a safer topic, right? “What was your plan? I'm sure you weren't thinking about breaking into my place before I found you.”

“I was going to temporally house them until I found a proper place for their reallocation.”

“Not adopting one yourself, uh?”

“I'm not in a position to care for an animal at the moment.”

With everything that was happening in his life, acquiring a new army of pets wasn't an immediate priority for Damian, that aside, he still had the intention of locating his old four-legged friends, if possible, so what was a little more of solitude after so many years of it?

“What is your protocol for cat rescuing?”

Selina wasn't a fan of the implication that this meant No One knew enough of her to know that she, in fact, was on the habit of saving furry critters from the streets when able. It wasn't like she actually believed a kid could be a terrible threat to her wellbeing, at least not one that claimed to be bat aligned, but it was unsettling that someone she never saw before had so much information, so clearly next time she saw Tim she'll have to ask him what was this all about.

She took out the cup she put in the microwave - with tea bag and sugar included - and made her way to the couch, letting the cup over the coffee table so she could get her boots off. It has been a long night, alright? Selina definitely was past caring about keeping appearances in her own home, intruding child or not.

“Just the usual, I feed them, take them to the vet if they need it and I drop them later at the shelter.”

“What shelter?”

“The one in Gillams Avenue.” 

Selina chose to name that one because it was the one closer to her current location. In truth, Selina favored the one she personally sponsored, but she wasn't going to offer more information about her life, god knows what else de kid knew already.

“Paw Friends has allegations of animal mistreatment. Management says the issue has been resolved but I remain doubtful, I would recommend the one in Holroyd Close instead, at least until I verify the administration's claims.”

“Oh-ho?” she expressed melodically. “Is this your thing then? The big bad bat saves people, so you save animals?”

“I've broken bones bigger than yours.”

She couldn't help the laugh that escaped from her, here she was worrying about her secrets being in possession of a child with undisclosed intentions, while said child seemed more invested in dealing with animal welfare.   

“Now, now, there's no need to be mean, we're practically on the same side here.”

“As if, we share very little in common. You don't even know what side I'm on.”

“Well, go on, enlight me.”

“My own, obviously.”

“See? That's something smart we can agree on.”

There was a very unfriendly answer ready in Damian's lips but he decided to kept that to himself, because he had no interest in continuing with such a pointless conversation, instead he was more interested in the kittens, that were done with their meal and looked now like tiny balls of fur. He felt very tempted to rub the kittens' fat little bellies, so it was a shame he couldn't take off his gloves to do that, but such were the injustices of life he had to accept.

Selina used the silence that followed to drink her tea and carefully observe her guest. Putting aside the suit and his idiolect, he didn't seemed all different from a kid taking enthusiastic care of a stranger's pet because he couldn't have one of his own. She wondered about what kind of life he had, because people usually didn't end in Batman's company for happy reasons and she wasn't blind, he was well trained, not in a way that some gymnastics in the community center could do, but something methodical and precise, in a manner that could only take years to learn. If he was saying the truth about Batman, was that the reason Bruce took him under his wing before everything? Because this was better than the alternative?

Her second mistake should be blamed on Zatanna, clearly something went wrong when she magically healed Selina, because at least that'd explain her past restlessness and now this sudden lack of common sense.

“I think it'd take a couple of days to get them a spot at the shelter, so, if you want, you can come and see them before that.”

“Tt, while your lack of effectiveness doesn't surprise me, your authorization is unnecessary. I've seen farm pens with better security than this place.”

If Selina were on a TV show, this would be the moment she'd turn to look at the camera with a unimpressed expression.

Damian had no problems with ignoring her again, this time so he could start moving the cats back to their pillow made enclosure. “They need appropriate accommodations.”

“I have a cat bed somewhere, dear,” she said, taking the last of her tea. “I'll make space for them in my room.” With that, Selina stood up, empty cup in hand, walking back to the kitchen without caring about being barefoot. “Do you have a curfew or something? As you can assume, I'm a very busy woman and if you're coming tomorrow,” she left the cup in the sink once she was in front of it before turning around. “I need—”

And just like that Selina found herself alone in her apartment, with only the meowing kittens for company and an open window, mocking her.

“You've got to be kidding me.”

From the long list of traits Damian wasn't especially proud, being a sore loser was one of the many. He liked to think he was better at it now, but it was a little difficult to measure such thing when the past years of his life had been about endurance and remorse. His current life was lacking of that too, because he wasn't competing with anyone: not for his place in the Wayne household, not for his right to be recognized as a Robin and not for his father's acceptance.

So he was trying to figure out if he was bothered because he was losing the current chess game he was having with Pennyworth or if it was the man's smug countenance, so proper and entertained, what was annoying him.

“Did you know,” said Pennyworth apropos nothing. “That the donation you made through Mrs. Wayne's Foundation has been accepted?”

Damian did in fact know, because whatever his plans were - big and small -, he was always paying attention; although he had more pressing matters than concerning himself with St. Aden's Orphanage's Easter celebration, it was still something he cared about. From the research he did the first time he met Colin, he found out that St. Aden was one of the many orphanages that was run under the Wayne Foundation and like all that fell under his father's charity, it was well founded so it wasn't in a dire need of Damian's own charitable efforts. But just like everything he did, this was just something purely for his own selfish reasons.

“As it should,” he answered without taking his eyes from the chessboard. “Are you trying to distract me, Pennyworth?”

“I would never,” he sounded convincingly offended by the accusation. “That would imply I need the advantage.”

Alfred was lucky Damian was so fond of him. 

“I brought it up because I'd like to know if I should be preparing a customary Easter Hunt for you, sir.”  

His first impulse was to scoff at such ludicrous idea and say no, because he wasn't a child. But it was just that, an automatic response from years of never considering himself a kid, not even in his earliest memories; it wasn't what Damian wanted now. He promised to himself that he'd stop rejecting the little joys of childhood, because it was the least he owed to the child he never had the chance to be.

“That would be acceptable,” he said, trying to sound indifferent. “Nothing too extravagant, simple yet tasteful would do.” And with that, he finally made his next move in the board.

“Of course, Master Damian, we wouldn't want the colorful eggs made for children to be anything but stylish.”

“You're always so hilarious, you should consider joining Grayson in the circus. You have the talent.”

The only reaction Damian got for his words, was a small amused twitch in the corners of Alfred's lips. “We should always strive to bring smiles to the ones around us.” And as if he had planned it, he made his move, successfully ending the game. “Checkmate.”

“Well played, Pennyworth,” said Damian after a moment. “You deserve to be rewarded for this, so I'll be on charge of making dinner today.”

Alfred's disapprovingly raised eyebrow was Damian's own victory... so maybe he was still a sore loser, but just the tiniest bit. 

The computer in the Grave was a work in progress, while it served its main purpose, it had a lot of limitations compared with the Batcomputer, which was the reason why he had to sneak out from time to time in the cave -  and more recently in the bunker - to get what he needed it. Of course, given the kind of people he lived with, sneaking out usually meant going on little infiltration operations. The safest time to do things he was trying to hide, was to do them when Grayson and Drake were too busy patrolling; the second was to do them when they were out cold after coming back from said patrolling.

Hypothetically, past four o'clock in the morning, should be a safe time to go in the bunker without having to worry much, at least in normal nights, when they didn't have wild situations going out of control by Gotham's standards. But Damian would've done well to remember that he also lived with a self-inflicted insomniac, so getting his plans ruined by Timothy Drake was frustratingly typical; at this point he really needed to install is own secret cameras in the bunker, if only to help him not waste time.

Going back as soon as he noticed that Tim was on the computer would be too suspicious, something Damian didn't need to add to when Drake already was distrustful of him, so he decided to do the first thing that came to his mind and started to walk confidently to the lockers, hoping Drake would just ignore him.

Of course he wasn't that lucky, because Tim seemed to have a natural disposition to go against his wishes. “What are you doing here?” He asked, as soon as Damian passed behind him, even if he was at a considerable distance.

“I came for my sword.” Was the disinterested answer.

Tim let out a sigh but kept working on what he was doing. “Why do you need it at this hour?”

“I can't sleep.”

“Training won't help, you're just going to overtire yourself.”

While part of Damian wanted to call out the hypocrisy, he was more focused on the fact that this was the first time he heard Drake say something that could be interpreted as worry for him, so probably at this point he was working on autopilot if he didn't mind sounding like he cared for Damian.

“It's not for that, is to help me sleep.”

“Are you seriously thinking about putting that under your pillow?”

“Not under my pillow, I just need to have it close.”

“The penthouse is up to Batman's standards, if something manages to pass that, you're going to need more than a sword.”

“It's not for defense, this is my emotional support sword.”

At this, Tim finally stopped typing and for a few seconds he just stared blankly at the screen in front of him. “I feel like I'm always asking you this, but, what?” And almost immediately he shook his head. “Forget it, don't answer, I know you're just messing with me.”

For a change Drake wasn't wrong when it came to him, so Damian wasn't going to argue. After he secured his sword and gave a quick but discreet look to the places that could be appropriate to install cameras, Damian naively thought that this will be the end of it, but when he got close to the stairs, Tim's voice made him stop right on his tracks.

“Damian.” It was just his name, but the way it was said felt too deliberate, like a command.

Drake, of course, wasn't looking at him when Damian turned around. He knew what kind of game the other was trying to play, so he just clicked his tongue with annoyance. “What?”

For a moment Tim acted like he didn't heard him or even spoke to him in the first place, so maybe Drake was fancying a kick in the shin this early in the morning, because he seemed to be asking just for that, however what he finally said next made Damian forget completely about any irritation.

“Do you still believe Bruce is going to come back?”

The unexpected question didn't surprise him that much, instead he was more curious about what thing in their interaction made Drake think about his father all of a sudden. “Yes, I do.”

At this, Tim turned the chair to look at him clearly. “Why? What proof do you have?” And his tone had a trace of mockery.

“I grew up surrounded by the legacy of a man obsessed with cheating death, I've seen the impossible become mundane.”

“That's it?” He said in a mix of disappointment and disdain. “Just because Ra's refuses to stay dead doesn't mean Bruce is somewhere out there, we have his body.”

“For all we know that's a magical clone.”

Probably it would be for the best if Damian wasn't so close to the truth, but given how utter ridiculous their lives were, his conjectures could pass just as a lucky guess.

Tim then let out a mirthless laugh, one that Damian knew very well. “That's the best you can come up with? Not like it matters,” he put his elbows in the armrests of the chair and interlocked his fingers, giving Damian a look of unmistakable condescension. “But what if you're wrong? What if all this time Bruce has been really dead and you're just in denial? What then, Damian?”

Drake's mind was a mystery. Damian couldn't even begin to fathom what triggered this, how they went from him reasoning his visit to the bunker to Tim talking like Damian was a fool, all in the blink of an eye. But he did have a theory as to why Drake, of all people, would act as if it was stupid to believe Bruce was alive.

Well, Damian was always up for theatricality, because that's what his life has always been at its core: a perpetual portrayal of what his parents wanted him to be. His life was still on a stage, the only difference was that now he was free to choose his role and how to play it.

“If my father is dead,” he started, sounding already bored. “There's only two paths for us to follow,” he unsheathed his katana and raised it at the same height of his shoulder, holding it horizontally in front of him. “We can defy the laws of nature and wage war on life and death alike,” with a subtle change of his wrist, he positioned the sword vertically, with its end pointing directly towards Tim. “And we search in heaven, hell and in-betweens until the universe kneels before us and has no other choice but give him back. Or,” in a blink-and-you-miss-it kind of movement, he sheathed the sword again, setting it firmly on the ground, resting his hands - one top of the other - over its handle. “We accept that he is gone and begin to come to terms with his loss until we learn to move on.” And he waited for his words to settle before finishing his little scene. “I already know my path. What's yours?”

And as if a switch had been flipped, Tim's whole demeanor changed; he practically slouched on the chair and gone was that air of taunting and somberness. He lazily studied Damian for a moment before just sighing with fake disappointment.

“You were less annoying when you were just homicidal.” Despite his words, his tone wasn't really antagonistic. “And I bet you think you looked cool just now.”

Damian hid his amusement, finally abandoning his imitation a general in front of his army. “The fact that you think that's what I was trying to do, denotes that you indeed thought I was, as you said, 'cool'.” Tim just rolled his eyes and turned the chair going back to his work, looking like he didn't try some kind of strange test on Damian just a moment ago. “You shouldn't stay so late, you know how Pennyworth feels about that.”

“Mind your own business and go cuddle your sword or something. And you better not tell Alfred you saw me here.”

“I don't need to, he always knows.”

Considering how true that was, Tim's lack of retort was expected, unlike the whole exchange they just had, but psychological warfare aside, that had been one of their most civil conversations, so overall Damian was counting it as a win.

⪻Chapter 12

Chapter 14⪼

#f.r.w. #chap13

[watchtowerindistress]

we are not our demons (2/24) - bruce wayne x reader

Gif by perioddramasource

A/N: Alfred's sage advice felt like an inspired scene from Karen Page talking about Frank Castle on Daredevil S2 and to try see a person from a different perspective.

Starting from this chapter, I had to switch to new betas since the previous ones were unavailable. So, thank you, @Axolotyl Alot, @darlinglissa and Heidi for saving me.

Warning: some dark themes, language

Please reblog/leave a comment.

Series Masterlist | Want to be tagged? | Read on AO3

How do you fall in love?

Harder than a bullet could hit you

How do we fall apart?

Faster than a hair pin trigger

-River by Bishop Briggs-

~ Bruce POV ~

Maniacal laughter filled the halls of the asylum as he walked past. Mixed feelings from the inmates reached him, and either patients booed at him, “Go home Batman!” or were having very strange emotions towards him.

Several men and women rubbed their bodies against the glass panels of their chambers and sent him sultry looks. Bruce drew his eyebrows together under the carbon fiber mask.

Damian’s playful voice rang behind him. “You certainly have amassed a fan club over the years. Now I know where you have kept it secretly hidden away.”

Bruce didn’t turn his head to reprimand his son, however, he only voiced, “Just focus, Robin. Keep your ears open.”

Damian’s small sigh made him guess that he was - as usual - rolling his eyes behind his mask. Bruce glared at the blue mark blinking on the display on his arm. While walking ahead, his gloved finger tapped on the location they needed to be at. Still, the caped crusader kept a watchful eye on his surroundings.

He was probably one of the few people in Gotham who did not hate this place. Well, hate would be too much of a strong word.

Arkham was always the kind of place that made people wary and uncomfortable. Not him though.

Bruce wanted to help the mentally unstable by sending them back to where they could be treated. Granted, it was not a foolproof plan, but still.

He sent a look backward at Damian, nodding once. His sidekick knocked the two Joker clowns unconscious who were meant to stand guard for any intruders about to ruin their so-called fun.

Both of their heads whipped upwards when there was a loud ringing in the air, the alarm lights switching to a glaring and stuttering red. Wherever they looked, sinister crimson doused wherever they looked. Blaring siren sounds rang through the air.

“Uh…”

Bruce spoke into his comm, “What’s going on, Alfred?”

“Looks like you got company. The Joker is about to set his girlfriend free.”

Bruce cursed under his cowl; his features twisted into a grimace before sending a dark glare in the direction of Damian.

“Stand back.”

Hearing that command, Damian complied. Bruce had gotten used to how the young Robin rarely heeded his orders when it concerned violence, but he was still grateful that he could listen to commands out in the field.

Bruce’s hand reached for the Batrope on his utility belt to wrench away the grate covering the air duct above the barricaded hallway. The torn metal made a clattering sound when it fell a few feet away from them.

Switching to the Grapple Gun, the vigilante propelled himself into the air. Bruce pulled his body up into the narrow ventilation shaft which hindered his mobility a considerable amount.

Bruce wasn’t worried about Damian and knew he had his equipment to get by. At last, Damian made a small groaning noise behind him and held tightly onto the ledge. Thankfully, he remained quiet after that.

His legs moved briskly when he detected the end of the shaft.

Grunting sounds and high-pitched shrieks penetrated his senses. Bruce furrowed his eyebrows in bewilderment.

“What’s going on down there, Alfred?” If it were any other situation, he would’ve thought Damian jumped the gun if it weren’t for his shadow moving behind him.

Alfred decided to sate his curiosity. “Domestic dispute,” he muttered with a heavy sigh.

Harley Quinn’s one-of-a-kind voice pierced the air while he scanned his environment through the grid of the shaft. “But Puddin’, I’m not going without Ivy!”

“Harley, are you stupid? Do I look like someone who wants to break out your botanist friend?”

Bruce kept his hand on the Batclaw. “Stay sharp,” he grunted quietly as he carefully pulled at the grid until it loosened from the outside.

Not wanting to waste any more time, Bruce released smoke pellets at the nearest thugs before dropping himself down.

He was confronted by several criminals blinking nervously against the thick smoke. Their body language turned tense. Heads jerked around, expecting, and fearing for something in the dark. Activating X-ray vision, Bruce detected the green hair of the criminal carrying a limp Harley over his shoulder who just rounded the corner and left his sight.

Bruce’s face twisted into a furious scowl, right when Joker’s voice rang through the hallway.

“I don’t want to have the fun all to myself, so please, help me get rid of dear old Batsy here.”

Joker’s menacing words stopped him in his tracks. The cell doors made a rattling sound when they opened. With every passing second, all the inmates he had put away as Batman over the years hesitated to step out of their containment units.

“Now, who needs my help?”

Damian’s voice rang out behind him as the boy jumped down. The young Robin slowly sauntered next to him, swinging his collapsible bo-staff through the air. Despite the constant but slight vexation Damian’s words evoked in him, he took on a fighting stance.

“Don’t hold back, Robin.”

Bruce could feel the smirk in Damian’s voice with his reply, “I thought you’d never ask.”

The voice of Liz Tremayne, a renowned reporter at Gotham City News, was clear in the air. “—and once again, Arkham Asylum suffered another break-out. Most of the inmates were apprehended again, although the Joker freed Harley Quinn. The appearance of Batman and Robin wasn’t surprising, but the fact that the caped crusader was more interested in beating up Joker’s clowns—more violently than usual—”

“Turn that off,” Bruce demanded upon arriving inside the Batcave with Damian at his side. He snapped the door of the Batmobile shut, his back facing the workstation in the Batcave.

“What in God’s name were the both of you thinking?”

Alfred rarely got angry, but when it occurred, even Damian was mindful to tread carefully. The news coverage seemed like static in the background, revealing that he was far too enraged to care about his master’s request.

Bruce, in his uncontrolled anger, violently ripped off the cowl from his head and chucked it with powerful force against the training dummy, only slightly unbalancing it.

The failed maneuver made him even angrier than usual when a frustrated grunt left his mouth.

A bitter smile was playing on his lips. “I don’t know. I was thinking I would rather see the Joker behind bars again.” He threw Alfred a thunderous glare, not caring if he was stepping out of line.

“You were reckless. Just look at that.” His butler pointed to the Batcomputer which exposed the events at Arkham Asylum on a video feed and how they both assaulted the clowns and the asylum’s patients—beating up anyone who stood in their way.

Bruce did not turn his gaze towards it, unlike Damian who whistled appreciatively.

“Can I get a copy of that? Me breaking that guy’s nose several times is just too good to pass up.”

Bruce’s face did not even twitch in reaction.

“Don’t need to. The Joker got away.”

Alfred crossed his arms over his chest, challenging him. “And why is that, Sir?” The older man got right in his face, his wrinkles displaying his disdain for Bruce’s not-so-recent actions. “This isn’t you. You were so hellbent on your darkest nature that you let him get away.”

“I didn’t let him.”

“Yes, you did. And now Harley Quinn is gone.”

Alfred pulled in a deep, cleansing breath and spoke with a soft voice. “Please, Master Bruce, I worry about you.”

“You don’t need to worry about me,” Bruce answered with no emotion in his voice, trying not to let his words affect him.

“But I do.” Exhaling a heavy sigh, Alfred’s eyes filled with tears while glancing with a torn expression at Bruce. “All this mindless violence, these angry outbursts. You’re almost killing people out there. I thought this uncontrollable bloodshed was over. This was never how Batman was supposed to be. Remember what you promised when you started this quest? We do not unleash violence for the sake of violence.”

Damian uttered a sigh next to him, with his arms crossed over his chest. “Father, perhaps Pennyworth is right.”

“What?” Both twisted their heads in unison, not believing what was coming out of Damian’s mouth. Now that was something they needed a copy of.

For once, the child’s expression was not twisted in anger or disgust—just resignation.

“There can’t be two of us out there losing control. I can carry the burden of being the heir to the demon, but you need to be more. You are the world’s greatest detective, and you need to give Gotham something to believe in. Reinforce that you are not anything like these lunatics out there.”

Bruce and Alfred were both speechless for a few seconds.

The dark-haired billionaire raised his eyebrows before clearing his throat. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say you listened to one of Alfred’s speeches.”

Alfred merely grunted in annoyance, but still felt touched by the young one’s words who for once managed to make Bruce shut up and listen. In all these years it has been Alfred who held this honor, but this time he did not mind surrendering his talent for a worthy cause.

Damian rolled his eyes, already back to his old ways. “Don’t get used to it.”

After Damian left the sanctuary of the Batcave, his father and Alfred stayed behind.

With his body leaning forward and neglecting the chair, Bruce was focused on the Batcomputer and fired up the search to find his arch-nemesis.

“Alfred, I can feel your fiery stare on the back of my head,” Bruce affirmed jadedly without turning around.

The butler, who had always been at his side ever since he could remember, uttered one of his infamous heavy sighs. Alfred leaned his hip against the table close to him. “I think it would be a good idea to talk to your son.”

Suddenly, Bruce felt tired of this conversation. “You think I haven’t tried that before?”

Alfred’s eyes turned empathetic. “Perhaps if you’d try a different strategy and see it from his perspective. Throughout his life Damian had been trained to be a ruthless killing machine, to feel no emotion. Just imagine being raised by Ra’s al Ghul and a mother like Talia.”

Alfred tilted his head in thought. “I’m not saying that she’s a bad mother….”

Snorting heavily, Bruce sent him a teasing glance. “Well, she’s not known for being a loving person.”

“I thought you wanted to protect Damian from his own darkness. What I’m trying to say is … Damian doesn’t know any different. So, please, Master Bruce, teach him differently.”

Bruce knitted his eyebrows. “Why do we keep having this conversation?”

Alfred chuckled deeply. “To be honest, I think we need to do better. We need to be better.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll have a chat about this the next time I see him.” Lifting his eyebrows, Bruce asked, “Happy now?”

Alfred pursed his lips, but his brown eyes remained content and filled with humor. “Immensely.”

Bruce turned back to the Batcomputer. “That’s great. God, what is it with you giving sage advice?”

“It’s in my job description, Sir. I knew what I was in for ever since your father asked me. Along with being sorely underappreciated.”

~ Ellie POV ~

The ride on the elevator felt like it was taking ages to arrive at the designated floor. Ellie’s suspicious gaze wandered over to the two security guards escorting her. It was strange to imagine that this facility was built in the 1920’s, and it still appeared so neglected. Flickering lights and brown-green paint peeling back, like the condition of the structure signified the treatment of its patients.

The brown-haired woman lifted the strap of her purse higher on her shoulder and chose to voice her concerns. “I didn’t know it was normal procedure to be escorted by security around here.”

The man on her left didn’t even show a reaction, but the person standing by the numeric pad turned his body until he was facing her. “Lady, didn’t you hear what happened? Just standard procedure after a lockdown.”

Ellie was already bored at this familiar turn of events. It was such a common occurrence for people to break out of Arkham that Ellie was no longer fazed by it. She let out a sigh and turned her head away. “Another break-out? Who got out this time?”

His eyes faced the elevator doors again. “The crazy bitch.”

Ellie nodded, knitting her eyebrows. “Uh-huh, okay.” Not knowing whether to feel slightly insulted for Harley Quinn’s sake for being labelled as merely crazy or a bitch.

The elevator made a harsh ringing sound before the familiar rusty doors opened.

Who’d have thought that she’d ever entered this facility so soon or ever again? And willingly of all things?

Her ankle boots thumped against the ground while her chestnut-colored eyes wandered to the high ceiling. The second floor was outlined by a metal railing which barely soothed her anxieties while the frenzied cries and thrilled howls of the mental patients from both sides reached her.

The guard in front of her barely turned back to her and appealed, “Keep away from those cells and stay towards the railing.”

Ellie swallowed and nodded. “Got it.”

The cybersecurity engineer released her breath, yet her heart began thumping erratically in her chest as she was led up the stairs. Ellie’s eyes couldn’t resist roaming the containing units on her right. An insecure feeling warmed up her stomach when several pairs of eyes stared at her, making her feel even more unsettled than she already was.

“Now who are you?”

Ellie furrowed her eyebrows, not knowing what to make of the brown-haired man putting his palms against the window. His wide green eyes were piercing her skin, and his hair was in messy disarray. What caught her attention though was the genuine and slightly frantic smile on his face, with the thick frames of his glasses covering his eyes.

“Riddle me this. You can have me, but not hold me, gain me quickly, and lose me just as fast. Treat me with care, and I become great; when betrayed, I will break. What am I?”

Ellie raised an eyebrow in befuddlement. “Trust?” Her body was already moving ahead, yet her head still twisted around in curiosity.

The male voice followed Ellie, even as she got around the corner to walk down another corridor.

“What?” The man whispered under his breath. Barely concealed interest shone in his eyes “Well, aren’t you fascinating.”

Ellie shook her head and tightened her grip on the brown strap of her purse.

The young woman accidentally met the eyes of the security guard escorting her from behind. “Don’t mind him, Dr. Albright. That guy’s just bored. Keeps on telling riddles to everyone.”

The mention of the fake name Ellie used to register herself at the reception brought her back to the present.

Ellie cleared her throat. “Right, yeah.”

“And what brings you to this side of Gotham?”

“Just, uh … taking care of a neurological case,” Ellie said distractedly as something else caught her attention.

Her eyes focused on the door at the end of the hallway. It felt like her vision was fluttering with adrenaline, giving her the sensation, like she was about to pass out here and now. With every step she got closer, the throbbing behind her eyes became even more intense.

Ellie’s laser-focused stare met the ID terminal, and she swallowed thickly.

Her inner thoughts were interrupted by another voice. “Just insert the key card you received at the reception, doc.”

Ellie slowly nodded her head in understanding, unfastened the metal clip from her waistband, and injected her ID into the terminal.

Biting her lip, Ellie was faced with her profile and the words ‘Dr. Vanessa Albright’ next to it. She quietly released the breath she had been holding and sent an empty smile to her companions.

“Just push the button by the door, Dr. Albright, and we will escort you back out.”

“Thank you.” Ellie nodded and pushed the door handle down with a click. Taking the key card out of its port, she finally entered the room.

Ellie’s back leaned against the door, a long sigh releasing from her mouth. It felt like she was barely hanging on by a thread.

The back of Ellie’s head collapsed against the metal door. Closing her eyes, Ellie tried to force her erratic heart to decrease. A bitter expression formed on her face, like she could finally stop pretending. Ellie’s gaze swept over the dark room. Her feet moved to the windows, and she raised the blinds abruptly by a few inches.

Numbness was spreading through Ellie’s body as she dropped her purse on a chair standing beside the bed. Her head tilted to face the patient lying motionless on the hospital bed. Dark eyes were piercing her skin and following her every move, with round glasses lying on his nightstand.

It felt so morbid and unsettling to have his dark eyes study her with no emotion while his head remained frozen.

Ellie’s fingers clung tightly to the railing at the foot of his bed until her knuckles turned white.

“I bet you’re finding this quite amusing.” Ellie shook her head with a scoff.

She couldn’t remember the last time she felt this resentful when she was looking at her mental tormentor. Only the regular beeping sound of his heartbeat rang in the air like a memento mori.

Taking her tablet out of her bag, Ellie opened his patient file. “Huh, locked-in syndrome, now that’s what I call damn unfortunate. You know, when I was told by…” Ellie paused, trying to decide what to call him now that the two of them knew Bruce’s identity. “The Batman that you were basically in a vegetative state, but aware of your environment, I couldn’t believe it.” She shook her head and narrowed her eyes. “How cruel this must be for you.”

With every spoken word, the Professor’s expression in his eyes remained blank.

She dropped the device at the end of his bed and clenched her hands into fists until the blood was practically non-existent.

“You know, my therapist would probably say that me being here is a setback. The truth is I’m slowly derailing—just like you undoubtedly expected me to. I can tell you, Strange, that whatever you did—it worked.”

Ellie’s hands unclenched before her arms stretched out at her sides like she had accepted her fate. A lump formed in her throat, making it hard for Ellie to breathe.

Hatred was shining in her eyes while they continued to gaze at each other, though only one was still able to speak. “You tore me up inside and fucking raped my mind,” she muttered with a trembling breath. Ellie inhaled deeply and let out the stale air. She wished she could blame Professor Hugo Strange for everything wrong in her life, but the mental aspect was all on him.

“I’d wager that a part of you is listening and feels so delighted that I can’t close my eyes without seeing your face and being reminded of the horrors you inflicted on so many people.”

Ellie’s lips twisted into a bitter smirk. It felt like another type of freak show with his eyes never letting her out of his sight. Like a portrait with holes that shielded real eyes right behind it. Ellie walked to the chair and rummaged through the contents of her bag.

The young woman nibbled on her lower lip, feeling conflicted at the sensation of the empty syringe touching her fingertips.

Just one single air bubble in his vein and Ellie would be able to rest so easily.

Her fingers tightened around the thin plastic, imagining what it would feel like to live in a world where this type of evil wasn’t in it.

Stepping steadily, Ellie walked to Strange’s bed and pointed the sharp end to his skin. She clenched her jaw tightly, feeling a darkness rise in her chest. Euthanasia wasn’t even her intention. Her fingernails bore into her skin to remind herself why she was doing this. The throbbing pain was a soothing distraction from the inner turmoil wreaking havoc within her.

With the needle touching his skin, Ellie was mentally preparing herself to get rid of him for good. To remove this evil from this world.

Ellie felt her heart thump nervously in her chest when her thumb touched the plastic plunger, imagining what it would feel like to cross that line.

Her gaze roamed until her brown eyes met the Professor’s.

And still no emotion.

A grunt of frustration left her lips as Ellie threw the syringe into the corner of the room. Rage and loathing slowly filled her up inside when she scrutinized his lying form—but only at herself.

Her fingers clenched around her head like spider legs. As if she wanted to pull the lurking horrors from her mind—by force if she had to.

Ellie just wanted all of this to finally end. No more migraines or nightmares. No more episodes that left her body a shivering mess any time she was in a crowd. She felt so close to screaming at him in agony.

Throwing her head back, Ellie inhaled uneven breaths and rubbed her face to find a semblance of tranquility. To somehow purify herself again.

Ellie licked her lips and found herself staring at Professor Strange with tired eyes. She doubted this darkness would leave her anytime soon. Inspecting him with thorough eyes, Ellie only came to one conclusion.

He was a damn invalid.

It wasn’t pity or mercy she felt. It was the satisfaction knowing that this was Strange’s future.

Tilting her head, Ellie stepped close to his bedside and knelt until her mouth was inches from Strange’s face.

Ellie hummed, letting her patient stare wander over the length of his body. Her eyes fixed on his hypnotizing ones.

“There really is no escape for you, huh? I’ve got to admit, knowing that I put you here…” Ellie shrugged without a care. “It makes me feel better,” she whispered, “immensely.”

A small smirk was painted on her lips. “Can you hear me, Strange?” It was such a freaky sight, having the Professor’s eyes follow her everywhere. And knowing he was conscious of everything around him.

“You can, can’t you?” Ellie’s expression turned blank. “You hurt me and Damian, and probably so many more people. I’m going to make sure that you won’t hurt anyone else ever again. That secret of yours, knowing who is behind the mask of Batman, will be stuck in that mind of yours and it’ll be the last thing you’ll ever know.” Ellie glimpsed at the professor’s bald head, trying to focus on something else. She barely needed a few seconds before she felt calm and reassured for the first time in so long.

Ellie straightened her body again and looked down at him. “Hope you’ll like your stay in Arkham. Permanently. I will ensure that you will never see the light of day again.”

Ellie picked up the syringe lying on the floor and stowed it away again in her bag as she kept it in a tight grip.

She stayed close to the door. “Oh, just so you know, I will monitor any changes to your medical state. Just to observe your neurological condition. Are you aware, Professor, that 90% die within four months?” Ellie tilted her head tauntingly. “Looks like I will see in the next 3 months if you’re still … breathing.” A smirk played on her lips at the last word.

“I do hope you’ll grow to like it here.” Ellie eyed the ceiling of his gray-painted walls before brushing her hands over her clothes to undo any creases. “Get used to it, Professor.

Tagging: @mellowstatesmanhandsempath​ @ravenmoore14​ @alwayshave-faith​ @ikranfuad​ @daydreaming-gemini​ @bluegalaxyprime​ @liadamerondjarin​ @steph21369 @andrewswifes-blog​

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