| Still in school so I donât really have regular updates and all cos Iâm busy (sorry)
| Trying to write âx readerâ fics, but I think Iâm better at âabstract writingâ for lack of a better term. Iâd love any feedback/criticism you might think would help (kind of begging for it)
| Definitely BEGGING for requests, pretty please send some to me
| I love love loveeeeee comments :)
| Iâve got a poetry blog @encryptedink, check it out if youâre interested :)
Characters I write for (all x readers)
My fav to write for are: Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian. But Iâll attempt to write for anyone I know, that you request. (Iâll let you know privately if you send in a request)
Hope you enjoy reading figments of my imaginationâs đ
âYou do not.â Jasonâs voice rang through the hallway. The fact that it was empty and no one could see his humiliation wasnât a good thing. In fact, if he was murdered right now, no one would hear his cries, let alone know he was just⊠unalived.
âW-well Jay⊠you see uhm⊠it is kind of true but itâs notâit doesnât mean anything I mean likeâŠme and weâll you knowâIâm this and sheâs that and itâwe Iââ
âYeah I know youâd never. I mean look at her and youâŠyou⊠well.â His words, though exactly what Wallyâs mind was telling him, struck a chord in him.
His love sick heart slowly deflated back to its normal size and dropped straight into his stomach. Jasonâs green eyes were still glaring into his soul, eyebrows bushed and casting a deep shadow of vengeance.
âLook manâsheâs crazy hoâuh beautiful. I canât help it! And the way the words were coming out of her mouthâman I mean⊠she melts me!â
The words came out strangled, as if he were struggling to breathe and didnât know whether to listen to his flight or fight sense. (He couldnât breathe, and he really should âflyâ)
Jasonâs fist came down into his palm making a thud reverberate through the room.
Wally gulped instantly.
âDad? I have your files!â A pristine voice cut through the tension like a knife.
Oh thank the heavens. Salvation.
Jasonâs eyes widened, heâd been caught. His body straightened and he mouthed to Wally to âbe normalâ as her footsteps approached.
Wally really had tried. To be ânormalâ that is. Unfortunately for him it didnât work out too well. So no: not salvation.
His mind was racing, fingers tapping at super speed in anxiety. Ok. Second time round. Donât make a fool of yourself.
She walked in calmly, heels clicking against the floor softly. âI canât believe Iâm back in this cave and so early in the morning.â Sheâd muttered while descending the stairs. âNo wonder dadâs so grouchy. He spends all his time in here.â She placed an armful of yellow files on the desk.
âJay! Dick told me you were visiting!â As soon as she had reached the flat ground, sheâd leapt off it again and into the giant with the leather jacketâs arms.
Now, Wally definitely would have laughed at the scene were it any other circumstance. This small, deer-like dainty woman engulfed in the arms of a biker-man was quite a spectacle. And yetâŠthere he sat. Vibrating at the prospect of seeing her again.
She looked radiant as ever: bright soft skin, smile that lit up the entire Bat Cave⊠it was well known that she could make the grumping Batman smile and even give out a chuckle so her effect on Wally was tremendous to say the least.
âOh⊠Wally! Hi again.â She waved and gave him a smile. He almost fainted. âYou remember me donât you?â
Her words shivered through him. Him? Remember her? More like how the hell could he forget her! She had been haunting his mind like a ghost who died in it. Her sparkling eyes were compared to every glittering object heâd glimpsed throughout the past week.
How he could have âforgottenâ her was a concept as foreign as slowing down to him.
âO-of course not. HeyâŠâ He offered a smile back to her.
âSo I was thinking⊠Iâm helping dad with a bunch of cellular regeneration experiments and maybe youâd be a good fit for that? Weâd just need to steal a few cells of yours. Completely with your consent and allâŠâ
Wally hadnât even heard the rest of the science jargon that come out of your mouth. You asking him for help? Well damn yes. No matter what.
âSure! Iâd be happy to help.â Heâd attempted to keep cool, stick his back to the backrest of the chair and not look too eager.
It seemed however that you noticed his energy and unfortunately so did Jason.
Though youâd been kind about it, polite enough to give a little chuckle (the sound has shot him over the moon) and then turn away Jason had other plans.
âDude. When Dick told me about you meeting her I even vouched for you. Told him to be easy on you.â
Wally let his eyes drift from your form to Jasonâs. âHuh?â
Jason moved closer, his hand resting on Wallyâs shoulder and his mouth close to his ear so she couldnât hear.
âCalm down big boy. No need to vibrate. If youâre this down for her, well I guess Iâm alright with this.â
Wallyâs eyes widened and he stilled immediately. He hadnât even clocked Jasonâs nudge of approval.
Heâd been vibrating?
As Jason moved up the stairs and he met your eyes again he preened. Your mouth quirked into a teasing smirk, and was thatâŠamusementâŠin your eyes?
Well damn. You definitely heard your brotherâs words.
And eventually, when Wallyâs mind caught up he realised Jasonâs words. âI guess Iâm alright with thisâ so thenâŠmaybeâŠmaybe just maybe you werenât untouchable.
A/n: Okay! 2 days in a row is crazy during school but inspiration hit for a tiny Drabble so anyways enjoy!
To be completely honest, Wally should have expected this. When Dick said he should meet him at Wayne Enterprises for his debrief instead of at the League Headquarters (since he needed to cover the business while Bruce was in space), he shouldâve known he wouldnât fit into that world.
The towering glass building reflected the sun into his eyes as he stood on the street across it. Men and women rushing in and out in full 3-piece suits, not to mention the doorman standing outside the automatic sliding doors who was there for the sole purpose of greeting people.
This place definitely wasnât built with any thought of him. A right-out-of-school, starting-my-life engineer standing in awe of the magnificent Wayne Enterprises. He clearly stood out in his lowly jeans, white shirt, light flannel and a baseball cap. People kept glancing over at him, silent questions carved into their faces. Damn it. Dick shouldâve told me it was this formal here.
âââ ⊠âââ
âHi there.â
The secretary hadnât responded. She looked up, eyes dragging over his form and casual attire before moving her eyes back to her computer screen and typing away.
âUhmâŠAfternoon.â She glanced up again, seemingly disappointed that it was still, in fact, him. âAfternoon. What can I do for you?â Her voice was cold and uninterested but hey, at least sheâd replied this time?
âIâm here to see DickâuhâRichard Grayson.â
Her head snapped up at the name, eyes narrowing. âHeâs busy.â She hadnât even glanced at her schedule. âFill out this form and Iâll get you an appointment in a month or two.â She brushed him off, shoving an expensive sheet of paper attached to a clip board into his hand.
Okay⊠so. Sit down, fill out the form Wally. He sighed, moving to the couches and taking the pen from the pen holder on the clip board. Geez, everything about this place â from the paper to the pen â was extortionate.
His pen had just written the âWalâ of his name before he heard a familiar voice mutter his name. Eyes darting up in surprise, he found the tired eyes of one Tim Drake. âWhat are you doing here, Wally?â
âDebrief⊠but I apparently need to wait âa month or twoâ until I can see him.â
Tim let out a chuckle, âIâm surprised Gabby there even gave you a form considering what youâre wearing. And youâre lucky Elaine is on leave today, she would have turned you away before you even got to her desk.â Tim nodded at the secretary.
Tim moved to stand before one of 4 elevators. âWell? You coming or not?â
Wally rushed to get up, fumbling with the clipboard and pen eventually just leaving it all on the small table in front of the couches. âComing! Wait up!â
âââ ⊠âââ
Tim had left him on the floor below this one, saying heâd find Dick right upstairs. Wally was incredibly confused but well it was Wayne Enterprises.
He moved out the elevatorâs sliding doors and was met with Dickâs signature grin and playful voice. âSpeedy! How ironic it is that youâre late.â
Damn, this office was directly attached to the elevator. How insanely rich.
âThe hell man. The secretary told me to fill out a freaking form!â Wallyâs arms were frantically gesticulating as if his voice wasnât fast enough for his brain. (It probably wasnât)
Dickâs face pulled into a guilty smile, âOops⊠heh forgot. Uh sit down though. Letâs make the debrief quick, shouldnât be a problem for you to be fair⊠Iâve got a meeting in the next half hour.â
âRight wellâŠâ
âRichard John Grayson! You told Damian to do what to the boys who were bullying that girl!?â
Wally flushed, body instantly straightening and facing Dick as if they were talking business not âdebriefâ.
Dickâs face turned guilty. âHeyyyâŠ(Y/n). I uhâmight have told him not to hurt them. But he needs to learn! He canât just beat up people left and right there are laws!â Rich coming from Nightwing, Wally almost laughed.
The voice muttered and spewed out curses before realising there was someone else in the room. âOhâŠhi sorry for disturbing your meeting.â
Wally turned at her voice, eyes widening when he saw her face. Starstruck. Thatâs what he was. The infamous (Y/n) Wayne was standing in front of him. Sweetheart of Gotham, daughter of the Prince of Gotham. Daughter of Batman. Heâd be dead before he could even give her heart-eyes.
Conclusion? Completely untouchable.
Heâd never seen her in person, she never attended the Justice League meetings. She was different to her family. The only âbatâ who wasnât a bat. The only non-vigilante.
ââŠDamian shouldnât haveââ Damnit. Right. Dick was talking and I didnât even say hi to her.
She was arguing with Dick, shouting over him as Dick did the same to her. She really was beautiful⊠and even though she was clearly upset Wally couldnât help fixating on the way her lips moved as she shouted at her brother.
Her eyes were sparkling, whether angry or passionate Wally didnât know.
Geez, sheâs scarier than the damn Demon Spawn.
But then again he didnât really care⊠he just wanted her to look at him.
Dick huffed, sitting back down with his arms crossed, defeated. His next words came out as a grumble. âFine. Tell him to talk back to the bullies. But itâs not teaching him anything that he hasnât been doing his whole life.â
You smiled then, sweetly and innocently but anyone could tell it was rather fake. âThatâs right Dickiebird. Besides Damianâs using words not fists and heâs defending others.â
âWhatever.â His smile returned immediately when he turned to Wally. âOh! (Y/n), right. This is Wally. UhâKidflash.â
Your eyes turned to him as you moved closer for a handshake. He flustered. You looked prettier up close. âH-hiâŠWally at your service! Well I meanânot like in the sexual wayâŠwell it could be! Oh damnit, itâs notâŠokay Iâm sorryâlet me restart uhâ Hi, Iâm Wally.â
Dick smirked at his suffering, you smiled, amused, your eyes sparkling. âHi Wally, Iâm (Y/n).â
And oh was he right, if you could just look at him so he could look into your eyesâŠwell heâd die a very happy man.
A/n: Hey guys! Itâs been so long, Iâve been crazy busy with school but I hope you all enjoy this new part of a Wally West story :) As always please let me know if anythingâs up with the grammar etc (I donât bite) and I will gladly take any requests!! Have fun reading.
| Damian Wayne, Tim, Dick, Jason x fem!Reader (platonic) (Mostly Damian)
| Part 3 (Final)
| 3.1k words
Part 1; Part 2
Damian Al Ghul definitely came as a shock to you. Youâd been absolutely enraged with Bruce when you heard of his existence. A biological child youâd never heard of who belonged to your husband? Unthinkable. And even Bruce didnât know he existed eitherâŠ
It was a truly complicated matter.
Talia herself wasâŠinteresting to say the least. Cold and all âdagger eyesâ towards you when Bruce was in the room but full of teasing smirks and bedroom eyes when he wasnât. A complete mystery if you asked yourself.
And to make matters worse, her son was just like her: a complete enigma.
He was nothing like youâd known, considering you had 3 sons. He was vastly different. But you wouldnât let that deter you, now would you?
âââ ⊠âââ
âHello Damian, Iâm (Y/n). Welcome to the Manor.â You had held out your hand, the most welcoming smile you could manage on your face. The gesture was futile as heâd scoffed and turned to Bruce.
âFather. What are you doing with this whore?â Your eyes widened in shock, hand faltering and then moving to your side to hide the shaking. Bruce wasnât much better, his whole body tensing beside you. He was restraining himself.
âUhââ âI wasnât talking to you, harlot.â He turned to Bruce yet again.
âFather?â
âDamian. That was rude. This is my wife.â
Bruceâs voice didnât falter, his stare harsh almost glaring at his ten year old son.
âTt. I donât approve.â
âShe doesnât need your approval.â
Heâd rolled his eyes, scoffing before walking off with his katana unsheathed. âSheath that sword Damian!â Bruce commanded.
âSorry darling, I knew he was difficult but I didnât know heâd say that to you.â Bruce hung his head as if he was responsible for the boy he just metâs actions.
Youâd wrapped your arm around his torso and moved into his space to press a kiss to his cheek. âItâs not your fault. We canât fault him since heâs never learnt any different. Come, heâs to meet the other crazy people in this house.â
âââ ⊠âââ
Watching Damian meet your boys was almost infuriating considering how different each child â not really children anymore â was.
Dick was completely taken with a new baby brother, his eyes sparkling with joy when Bruce told him who Damian was. Heâd basically launched himself at the poor child and had to dodge the blade swung at him. Heâd settled for standing a few metres away from him and waving with a pout before it turned into a bright smile.
âHi! Iâm Dick, the best older brother youâll ever have. If you ever need me you know, a hug a talk Iâm your guy, little guy.â Damian snarled. âIâm not a âlittle guyâ. I could kill you where you stand right this instant.â
Dickâs smile faded before returning in an instant, moving hand to ruffle Damianâs hair with a cautious glance at Bruce.
Jason nodded, âDemon Spawn.â
âTodd.â Damian nodded in kind. They had had the shortest conversation of all and seemed to reach a weirdâŠunderstanding of each other. It ended there with Jason walking out of the room immediately as if he knew Damian was no harm at all.
âHey, Iâm Tim. Nice to meet you.â
âTt. I wonât be speaking to the imbecile known as Drake, father.â Timâs eyes narrowed before he huffed and turned back to his laptop screen.
âIâd say the meeting went well.â His voice came almost gleefully naive.
âYou would think that Bruce dearâŠâ Youâd rolled your eyes discretely, patting his arm before moving with him and Damian trailing behind to find his new bedroom.
âââ ⊠âââ
âThis food isâŠadequate.â Everyoneâs eyes were frozen on Damianâs form. His straight-backed posture was almost as frightening as his words. For the first time since youâd seen him this was the only ânon-complaintâ youâd heard. And it was about Alfredâs cooking. Alfred nodded, a secret knowing smile playing at hit lips.
âIâm glad you think so, dear.â At your pet name Damian himself froze, cheeks glowing red before he continued eating.
Dick continued to chat his fatherâs ear off while Jason and Tim played unnecessarily aggressive footsies under the table, Tim almost shrieking when Jason kicked him particularly hard and Jason bouncing off his chair in laughter. Some warped version of family dinner commenced, with the exception of the boy across the table who was sitting in silence.
âDamian, youâll be attending school from next week at Gotham Academy.â
His eyes sharpened at his fatherâs words. âI do not need to.â âIt is important to be around people your own age.â Bruceâs rebuttals came quickly, as if he expected this. He probably did.
âI am already surrounded by people whose mental capacity is below mine.â Dick pouted at his now younger brother while Jason and Tim scowled, red faced, at the insult.
âWell itâs not a choice youâll have. Next week youâre at Gotham Academy, Iâve already arranged with the Headmaster. Alfred will drop you off and one of us will pick you up after school.â
Damianâs knuckles turned white with the amount of strength he was gripping the utensils. His father really wasnât going to debate this. He nodded, leaving with a glare to his fatherâs head. Well if he had to do this, he would be the best damn thing the school had ever seen. Even if he did it begrudgingly.
âââ ⊠âââ
âHave fun, darling.â Youâd exclaimed happily as Damian reluctantly moved out of the car, Alfred nodding in agreement to your words from the driverâs seat. Thank goodness you were in the backseat, able to spot Damianâs stowed away katana sticking out his school bag.
He didnât reply, turning sharply after a short nod towards the car.
âââ ⊠âââ
âSo, how was it?â
âThe people in my class are imbeciles. I donât understand why I have to be there.â
âWellâŠsince you know you will be there, why donât you do what Tim does? Find a hobby⊠do some enjoyable extracurricular activities?â
âThereâs nothing in that school that could be âenjoyableâ (Y/n).â
So much for thatâŠ
âWell, we will figure something out.â Bruce walked in after listening âdiscreetlyâ to your conversation. He moved to wrap his arms around you from behind you as he sent a look, unseen by you, to his blood-son. Behave, it said, sheâs trying.
âââ ⊠âââ
âDamian. A word.â Bruceâs voice came booming down the stairs, voice not warm nor cold, just expectant.
âFather. You asked for me?â Damian stood in the doorway of Bruceâs office, back straight and chest out as a way to convert his ânon-nervousnessâ
âYes, sit.â
âYou are finding it hard to adjust.â Bruceâs words were blunt, not at all questions, they were straight facts. âYou are excelling at school, made a couple friends â even if they are teachers â and do not physically fight your brothers too often. There is one thing, one person however, who I am still concerned for. My wife.â
âShe calls me those unnecessary names, Father. She lies.â Damianâs response came quick, arms folding tightly across his chest. His eyebrows furrowed and a deep scowl settled across his face.
âShe doesnât lie.â
âThe how can she call me âdearâ or âdarlingâ or âloveâ? I am none of those things. Ergo: she lies.â
âShe doesnât lie Damian. She means it. And she wonât stop at it either so donât ask her to.â
Damianâs hands fell slack in their positions. How could you mean it? But his father just said you did. And Damian knew his father didnât lie.
Youâd captured the hearts of not only his father but the other insane people of this manor. Maybe his would still for you tooâŠ
âââ ⊠âââ
The nicknames never stopped, neither did your trying to help him. He was still adamant that he didnât need you and that was fine. But you wouldnât stop offering either.
Even if, every time he brushed you off â albeit in a less harsh way than before â it pulled at your heartstrings.
âââ ⊠âââ
Throughout his time at the manor, Damian had gotten closer to exactly one brother. Richard âDickâ Grayson. The eldest, the most responsible and according to Damian: the most tolerable.
âYou know DamiâŠâ âDonât call me that Grayson.â Dick ignored that surprisingly easily. âI thought she was a gold digger when I first met her.â
âSheâs much more than that though. And her cookies are to die for. Just give her a chance. Youâll see, and she makes Bruce a better person.â
âGrayson I highly doubt being a superb baker of cookies makes her less of a gold digger.â âYouâll be surprised Little D.â
âTt. Stop your incessant nicknames.â
Dick had pranced off, cartwheeling halfway through the way to the stairs, until he jumped on the bannister and slid down. Damian couldnât see him or hear his laughing anymore.
âââ ⊠âââ
With a small huff after considering both his eldest brother and his fatherâs words, he crossed his arms, walking into the living room where you were reading. âFine, I shall try an extracurricular. But I shall not enjoy it.â
Youâd let out a soft exhale and smiled just a tinge. âPerfect, love. Let me know if you need any supplies.â Youâd practically jumped in excitement. Finally. You knew heâd come around. When Damian stalked off you had essentially ran into Bruceâs home office to tell him the good news.
Heâd smirked and pulled you onto his lap with knowing eyes. He had been the one to ask Dick to talk to Damian after all.
âââ ⊠âââ
âI require charcoal. And proper oil paints along with canvasses. Brushes and an easel too. And good paper for sketching, none of that flimsy stuff.â
âUhâIâm afraid I donât knowââ
He huffed. âOkay, darling, why donât you just come to the store with me?â âOnly because you clearly need assistance.â
âââ ⊠âââ
âIs that everything, dear?â âYes. Letâs leave.â Damian was ready to pull you out the store on his fatherâs behalf whether you had the supplies or not. The creepy man behind the till had been staring at you incessantly since you walked in. âTill first, darling, we still have to pay.â
You moved to the till first, placing the items along the counter as your eyebrows furrowed in curiosity. He power-walked to the counter, standing inches away from you. âSweetheart, you do know we need some space between us right?â
The guy on the other side of the desk sent you an exasperated smile. âKids. I got one just like âim. Perhaps youâd wanna meet him.â
He grinned and you smiled back, the guy seemed a bit off but you hadnât been out in a while. Probably normal.
With a sleazy smile he picked up the items from the counter and scanned them. As he fetched the last one from your hands, your fingers brushed and he didnât move away until Damian narrowed his eyes at him through his glare.
Youâd moved away instinctively, your skin bristling with unwanted goosebumps. Smiling politely when you realised the guy was staring, you moved closer to Damian. âSorry weâre in a bit of a hurrââ
âYou foul swine. She has a husband or are you too blind to see her wedding ring?â The man flushed, his grin fell rapidly at Damianâs words. Damian stood between you and the counter, paying on your behalf much to your surprise.
You were ushered out of the store in ten seconds flat, Damian carrying all the bags upon bags of art supplies desperate to leave.
Damian like an angry chihuahua at your heels, snapping at almost every male who walked past while you were on the way to the car.
âThank you, Damian.â At the use of his name, and only his name, Damian bristled. You didnât call him a nickname⊠maybe Bruce told you about how he didnât like it. Except⊠he found himself, a tiny part of himself hidden behind coarseness, missed it. He didnât mention it to you, of course.
âDoesnât he watch television or read any press? He shouldâve known who you were and that you are married.â
You gave him a smile, leaning over to kiss his cheek.
âââ ⊠âââ
Bruce was sitting in the living room and was incredibly displeased with your story of the âguy at the art storeâ but very pleased with Damian. Heâd put his hand on Damianâs smaller shoulder as thanks and Damian bristled with hidden pride.
It seemed the other boys were too, slapping him on the back and nodding in approval at Damianâs actions to protect you. It seemed heâd earned their approval. (Well Tim and Jason since Dick seemed to give it immediately after he met the boy)
After his second encounter with Bruce and his brothers in the living room he felt enough courage to face you in the kitchen.
Alfred kindly escorted himself out as soon as he saw the boys face and focus on your figure.
â(Y/n).â His voice was harsh, the way a kitten hisses at something that may hurt them. âYes, Damian? What can I do for you?â
âYou uhâŠâ He blew out a breath and inhaled again slowly as if calming himself down. âWhy do you call me that?â
âDamian? Itâs your name, isnât it?â Now you were confused. Bruce told you he didnât like the affectionate names⊠therefore the solution was to use his name wasnât it?
âYes butâ Well. Did father say something?â
âHe said you preferred just your name. Thatâs fine by me.â You smiled encouragingly. At least he was comfortable to approach you on this.
âItâs not.â His reply came fast, essentially breathless as his head snapped up to look at you. âUhmâŠwhy not Damian?â
âI want you to.. go back to the way it was before.â
âYou want me to use the nicknames? You donât mind?â
âNo. They are⊠acceptable.â
âRight. Of course then, dear, I will continue to use them.â
âââ ⊠âââ
Damian had holed himself in his room the next few days, all that could be heard was the sound of pencils sketching from behind the door. Heâd gone out for school of course, but insisted that only Alfred drop him off and pick him up.
You, of course, had left plates of meals, cookies and snacks at his door, delighted when youâd walk past a bit later to find they were then empty. At least he was eating.
Damianâs isolation was quite strange. But then again, the boy was kind of strange in general wasnât he? Definitely his fatherâs child.
Tim found the reason for Damianâs solitude after 4 days of sleuthing and basically stalking.
âAha! The Demon Spawn has a muse. And Iâve got the evidence.â Tim pranced into the dining room, in his hands a flapping piece of paper with a sketch on it. âMind you, I found this on the floor outside his door so I picked it up.â
âTim. We donât steal things.â Bruceâs voice came out calmly, his eyes not leaving the tablet in front of him but a small smile graced his face that no one saw since Tim was holding the elephant in the room. âIt wasnât stealing B! It was left on the floor. I was just gonna return itâŠâ
âWell Replacement? Let us see, you idiot.â Jason demanded, eyes squinting to try and make out what was on the page.
Tim sat, passing the page over. The page went through a sequence of hands, all of whose faces turned to look at you with wide eyes before passing it along.
When you finally got it, your face had the same expression. You didnât pass it to Bruce, too shocked at the pencilled illustration. Your own face, smiling and unbothered, was staring right back at you.
Your pencilled counterpart was sitting on Bruceâs lap, laughing at something he had said while he looked up at you as if you hung the stars. And maybe, for him, you did. âWow Iââ
âDrake. Give it back! That wasnât yours to find! Give it to me! This instant or I shallââ His words became stumped as he walked into the room. Eyes trailing over everyone sitting at the table, freezing on you.
He spied the paper in your hands, eyes widening and fists clenching. Running out of the room at top speed, he rushed into his room, the door slamming. His breathing had become heavy, his face red from⊠what? Embarrassment? Anger? Probably both.
âBruceââ You turned to him automatically, your body needing his assistance desperately. He smiled, gently, knowingly.
âItâs okay, my love. I knew, he put it there for you, go to him.â
âââ ⊠âââ
âDamian, dear. Itâs me.â
Silence emanated from behind the door.
âYour drawing is beautiful⊠Iâm flattered.â
ââŠYou like it?â The door opened, revealing a small boy staring down at his feet.
âOf course, darling. When did you see us doing that?â
Damian looked down yet again, his thumbs twiddling as if he were in trouble. âA few days ago. You were in the library with father.â
âHmm⊠itâs wonderful Dami.â He flushed at the compliment. âMight I ask why you drew us?â
His head snapped up, eyes staring at you in surprise as if he couldnât comprehend why youâd asked that question. Surely you already knew? He knew Bruce knew already⊠he didnât tell you?
âYou⊠and father, you have been putting effort in me. Unnecessary effort but effort nonetheless. You make this house feel like⊠more than a house.â
He sucked in a breath, hands wringing in front of him before continuing.
âYouâyou call me all those names. Father says you mean them and IâŠI think you do.â
Your eyes widened, mouth opening in shock. Frozen for a few seconds. He seemed so nervous at your silence, a scared kitten waiting for a bomb to go off.
âOh, Damian. Of course I mean them, otherwise why would I say them? Do come here, will you?â Youâd opened your arms, his body moved to your warmth but his stiffness stayed with him. You wrapped yourself around him, comfortable to be holding your youngest boy and he, slowly and hesitantly, came too.
âThank you.â Damian muttered, voice muffled against your chest.
âItâs no problem, darling. None at all.â
You spent a few more minutes just like that, wrapping Damian in comfort and ceaseless love. Eventually the boys and Bruce walked up the stairs to check on you and found you in a puddle together on the floor. Asleep.
âHow does she keep doing this? Your wife has magic, B. Wayne tamer or something.â Jason, somewhat mocking and somewhat impressed, announced.
Bruce just smiled, walking into the room with soft soundless feet to cover you both with a blanket. âShe really has been able to take the Waynes. Even the seemingly most feral.â
A/n: So hereâs the last part (I took foreverrrr writing it) Also Iâm pretty sure itâs the longest fic Iâve ever written so yay! Hope you enjoy it, Iâd love to hear your feedback and all :)
Of course you left with your brother when he was banished. Youâd fought with your father almost to the point heâd challenged you to an Agni Kai.
You were fuming, fire threatening to shoot out your ears. How could he do that to his own son? Youâd known he was harsh but this⊠unthinkable. And the fact that he was letting you, the first to the throne, leave without a hint of remorse⊠baffling. Obviously, you knew you werenât the favourite. In fact maybe it was better youâd leave.
You wouldnât have to deal with Firelord Sozin or dearest darling Princess Azula for a while. Yes, rather accompany Zuko and Uncle Iroh to better placesâŠ
âââ ⊠âââ
Heâd been angry, which was understandable. But being brash and lashing out at everyone was not okay. Youâd always been by Zukoâs side. When Izumi left, youâd picked up the pieces along with your uncle for him since you knew your father wouldnât.
Though right now he didnât acknowledge it, deep down he knew youâd always be in his corner. You were the only one in the crowd during the Agni Kai rooting for him and not the Firelord.
But at this moment, this particular instance, he was furious. The Avatar, his only way back to honour was evasive. He couldnât get a grip on him or any of the friends he rode with even with the help of those damn pirates.
With just a mention of the pirate escapade, youâd hidden in the warshipâs main cabin.
â(Y/n)! Weâre leaving. The pirates are gone and weâre heading over to Gaipan soon.â
âSorry Zuko, youâll get the next time, alright?â While you hadnât been a fan of Zukoâs obsession with the Avatar, it was stopping him from becoming depressed and withering awayâŠ
âââ ⊠âââ
Youâd arrived and were told by the captain to âshake off your sea legsâ for a while and go explore. Zuko had taken a group of men and his Uncle to the woods to search for the Avatar and so it would just be you on the boat while the captain and a few crewmen dealt with any repairs.
Youâd thanked him graciously before stepping off the boatâs brow. What you hadnât expected, however, was him.
Youâd walked into the market, taking in the vendorâs shouting and the variety of coloured items and clothing placed on tables, looking and admiring, for though you had unfathomable wealth in your own nation, here you were basically desolate. The only money you had was given to you by the captain, a few Earth Kingdom coins, enough for several apples or so.
Youâd seen a few ragtag children, sitting in a corner. One was pushing another around and the others around them seemed to get a laugh out of it. Theyâd all looked rather dirty and underfed but you didnât necessarily have enough money to buy them all food, did you?
Youâd waited until the ârowdyâ bunch left, walking over to the one who got beat up with an apple youâd bought at the previous stall. You didnât say a word, the child obviously had their pride since they didnât cry during the scuffle. Instead, you gently held out the apple, a silent reprieve for the childâs hunger and a way to say âIâm sorry for whatâs happening to you.â
After the child had taken the apple, a gentle nod after a time span of hesitation, youâd continued walking, promising yourself you wouldnât use the money in case something happens and you need it. Just in case.
Until youâd seen a bow and a fine quiver of arrows.
The bow was clearly made with fine craftsmanship, the limbs carved from strong oak and the grip sanded down so finely it felt like marble. Gold details stretched across the bow gently, caressing the wood and leaning over into the quiverâs surface too.
The quiver itself was a masterpiece, body made of strong leather, so definitely fireproof and it had a range of accessories and features, the most important one: the hidden pockets.
As soon as youâd checked the price with the vendor, your face fell. That expensive? Youâd placed it back down on the counter, smiling sheepishly. Yeah it wasnât worth it, you didnât need it.
But damn. If you were anywhere back in the Fire Nation, just a mention of your name wouldâve earned you this piece. Oh well, princess in the Fire Nation means peasant in the Earth Kingdom, you guessed.
Just as you were about to turn your back and leave a strong body blocked your way, hands moving to your elbows to change your trajectory back to the table where your now abandoned wishes lay. âHey there, you want those?â
âUhm sorry, itâs alrightââ You moved to turn away again, pride and fear taking over at this strangerâs question. âNo waitâsorry. Iâm Jet.â
âHiâŠJet.â Youâd smiled that same polite smile you did at the palace when you really didnât want to speak but political reasons forced you to.
âSo uhmâŠâ he paused for your name, looking at you curiously. â(Y/n)â
Damn it, whyâd you use your real name? Heâs bound to figure out it sounds Fire Nation.
âWell (Y/n), itâs your lucky day. I saw you help one of my guys over thereâŠâ he paused and pointed to the apple stall. âA brother of one of my brothers. So Iâll buy you a gift.â
He nodded to the vendor, sliding some coins across the table and picking up the bow and quiver. He held it out to you, mouth parting in a smirk-like smile.
As soon as youâd reached out to take it, for though your pride was almost hurt you were also grateful for this strangerâŠthis Jet. He seemed like a good guy, his presence and mysterious shroud he had around him pulled you in almost magnetically. So you relented and reached out.
âAhâwell now, before I gift the pretty lady things maybe I should let the person she saved thank her.â
âWhat?â
âThat little boy you gave the apple to. He wants to thank you. Properly.â
Youâd nodded, albeit a little hesitantly but this guy seemed alrightâŠrather country and gentlemanly with a hint of snark.
Heâd walked and youâd followed, chattering about trivial things while he led you into the forest. Youâd been rather sceptical at this point, nothing good comes out of going into the forest with a stranger⊠and yet only good things came.
Heâd introduced you to his Freedom Fighters and youâd felt a burn of rebellious fire towards your father, quickly accepting the idea. Theyâd loved you, youâd been thanked by Wei Shan and youâd smiled before patting his head to tell him it was a pleasure.
Over the course of the next few days as Zuko tried to catch up with the Avatar, you spent more and more time off the warship with Jet.
Small walks along the river, peering out at Gaipan from the forest. Exploring the vast network of houses along the treetops and him plucking a flower to gently push it into your hair. Heâd called you diaphanous, you didnât belong in his world of fear and fighting. But he knew your fierce spirit, your unwavering care for those you loved. And heâd stop this war if only it meant he wouldnât have to risk you. At any and all costs.
Jet was sweet, brash but passionate and unapologetically him. He was nothing like youâd ever experienced back in the Fire Nation since all your potential suitors were terrified of your father. He had that country flair which intertwined with class in the way his words were elegant and precise.
It was no surprise when you fell for him. So much so you maybe mistakenly revealed your true identity. In the middle of the night, in the calm between Jetâs adventures youâd told him who you were: Princess of the Fire Nation, heir to the throne (well not anymore.)
And heâhe accepted it. Listened to your reasons for why wouldnât he? He had fallen for you too. For your rebellion against your father, for your fierce loyalty to your brother, your kindness and burning desire to comfort and help those in need. There was no question, you were both in complete shambles in your love for each other. Though neither of you mentioned it nor called it by its name.
âââ ⊠âââ
You were with him when Zuko attacked, the Avatar and his bunch of friends (or gang?) had joined the Freedom Fighters. You knew none of them by name, only discovering their team-up with Jet that morning when youâd walked to the forest from the ship.
Between the tumult internally, fighting two decisions: to let the Avatar live in peace and help him or call Zuko and help your brother, Jet stood. Heâd convinced you to help the Avatar, it would bring down your father and lead Zuko back to the throne (once you abdicated for he knew you wanted nothing to do with royalty) and it would once and for all stop bloodshed.
It would help Zuko. You werenât betraying him. Just doing things your way instead of his. Heâd understand when heâd reap the rewards he didnât even sow.
So youâd agreed. Youâd say nothing to your brother. To stop the bloodshed, to return your brotherâs honour even if he didnât know it yet.
âââ ⊠âââ
Sokka didnât know what hit him. Heâd followed Aang reluctantly through the forest, his arms and legs tired from being on the run. All heâd wanted was some food, shelter and some desperately needed calm.
He certainly didnât get the latter, instead he got something far better. A glimpse of an Angel. No, a goddess. Standing in the forest, smiling and laughing. His heart almost stopped.
It started again, fuelled by jealousy as he watched Jet walk up to you and wrap his arms around your midsection. You looked ethereal⊠must be a byproduct of your being in love.
And yet he too felt the same thing you did. He was in love, at first sight no less, not that heâd tell you. You were with Jet, you were leagues above him and he would leave soon with the Avatar.
No.
This love, no. Heâd have to call it something else. Friendly acquaintanceship maybe. Yes.
He wouldnât call it by its name. Just friends. Never what it truly was.
A/n: Happy New Year! Hereâs the first fic of the year. Sorry Iâve been inactive. Hope you enjoy the story, will be writing a part 2 soon. Thank you so much for the request @violetcoquettecomrade I really enjoyed writing this :)
Youâd had plenty of time at Wayne Enterprises to hear about the Wayneâs eccentricities. From Bruce Wayneâs twenty million âskiing accidentsâ to Damianâs excessive arrogance and total lack of social common sense, you knew they were trouble. And yet, when the opportunity arose for a promotion, you grabbed it with both hands and almost flung yourself at it in desperation.
You hadnât planned it this way, of course. Living in a shabby flat after college and being this close to eviction wasnât even one line in your life plan but here you were.
Overall the job wasnât too bad. Being Damian Wayneâs assistant was⊠time consuming and energy draining. But, you learnt that Damian, once he found you useful, put all his effort into learning you and your social clues. He really wasnât as bad as they all made him seem.
The two of you had created an unsaid pattern in the office. He comes in at 9:30 on the dot, coffee (black, no sugar) must be ready and on his desk, schedule for the day sent via email the night before and reminders throughout the day. Mostly simple.
It took ages to learn how he wanted things done, when he wanted them done but you always did take information in quick and well you really loved learning. (The paycheque was incredibly generous too)
âââ ⊠âââ
Youâd been typing out the list of guests to the next Wayne gala, adding in Damian Wayne deemed âtolerable peopleâ while removing people âunsuitableâ for his tastes (which were rather a lot of people) when he walked in.
The infamous Tim Drake. Current majority shareholder of Wayne Enterprises and third adopted son of Bruce Wayne. Though it was a little ironic you were starstruck by his reputation and power even with Damian Wayne as your boss he seemed wildly different and thus intriguing.
Besides the noticeable black circles under his eyes, his skin was smooth, silky black hair almost falling past his eyebrows and though his suit was rumpled you could clearly tell it was handcrafted for the man. His thumbs frantically hit his phoneâs keyboard as if he were racing against its capabilities.
His eyes didnât even reach yours when he spoke, tired voice lilting out his mouth, âHey. Damian said you were doing the guest list, are you done?â
As you voiced your surprise, he lifted his eyes and suddenly stopped. Unmoving, lips parted like he was about to speak but nothing came out. Short circuit over.
His eyes flickered across your face, your form. He was cataloguing. Every inch of you, from your hair type and your eye colour to his estimate of your shoe size was being filed in his server of a brain.
âSorry Mr Drake, are you alright?â
His hand came up to his head, his fingers carding through his hair though the hair obstinately moved back. âUhâye-yeah sorry. What did you say again?â
Your mouth started moving, not noticing how he zoned out again. He was staring⊠but how could you question him? Heâs⊠well heâs Tim Drake.
His cheeks flushed when he realised he didnât hear a thing you said again. âRight thanks uhâsent it to me when youâre done.â
Damian walked in, pinning Tim with a weird (for lack of a better word) stare. âDrake. What business do you have here?â âJust uh⊠asking about the guest list.â
âRight well. You can leave now.â
âââ ⊠âââ
The next week was⊠interesting to say the least. After one meeting with him Tim Drake seemed to be desperate for more. He dropped coffee off at your desk after youâd dropped Damianâs off. He stopped by to âsay hi to Damianâ about 3 times a day and kept offering you help âshould you need it.â
It shouldnât have shocked you when he walked in and asked you to call him by his first name and not âMr Drakeâ but it did. He came into your office in a hoodie instead of the usual black suit, his hair was tousled and his hands were nervously in his pockets.
âSoâŠâ he said your name, almost cautiously as if youâd run away at his use of it.
âYes?â
âDo you remember that Wayne gala guest list you were creatingâŠ?â
âOh, yes of course, I thought I sent it to your assistant two weeks ago. Though I donât mind resenââ
âAh well yes you did. I justâwell I need a plus-one and I was kind of thinking of askingâŠyou.â
âMe?â You pointed at yourself. âUhmâŠwell I⊠that would be⊠Iâve never gone to anything like this.â âThatâs fine, Iâve done it since I was 13. Iâll teach you.â
With a hesitant but hopeful sigh you smiled. âAlright Mr DraâTim, Iâll be your plus-one. Thanks for inviting me.â He flashed you his signature well-talked-about smile before shoving his hands into his pockets and strolling out.
You definitely didnât hear Damian âttâ at Timâs air punching when he came into the office.
A/n: So hereâs a small super short part, lmk what you guys think. Idk if imma make part 2 but if I do itâs gonna be very cliche⊠anyways hope you enjoyed :)
Your arrangement with Bruce was unusual. At least from the boysâ perspective. Theyâd seen the former models, the actresses, even one Selina Kyle yet none of them had the same relationship with Bruce as you did.
âSoâŠâ Dickâs voice echoed through the cave as he watched Jason and Tim spar. âGold digger?â âGold digger.â
Timâs curt reply came with a grunt of exertion and neither of the boys was shocked by his answer. Jason struck Timâs side as Tim looked up at Dick. âFind anything out about her Timbo?â
Tim jabbed Jason back. âRich family, losing wealth. Bruce was an escape for them âHey! What the hell Jason, that was a low blow!â Sheâs lonely, not got much real friends, only followers on social. Guess for now sheâs got Brucie.â
âMan up dude, not my fault youâre distracted.â Jasonâs reply came back in short words between grunts. âLetâs see how long she lasts. I bet sheâll be gone in sayâŠa month.â
âBet what? And also, I think sheâll last longer, two months.â Tim challenged.
âIdiots, the Original Boy Wonder bets two weeks.â
âFine.â
âFine.â
âAwesome sauce, whoever wins doesnât have to attend the next gala.â
âââ ⊠âââ
One full week had passed by and the boys had no luck. She still got up, helped Alfred make breakfast, brought a plate to Bruce in his office. She still smiled at each of them, hugging them (Dick and Jason) when they visited âmostly to check in on how their bet was going with Tim but no matterâand ruffling Timâs hair out of his face while he struggled with code.
Dick was almost distraught, of course he didnât want to lose the bet and have to attend the dreadful upcoming Wayne gala. So it was decided, make her leave.
He walked into the manor the next day announcing heâd be staying there for the next amount of unknown days and escorted himself to his old room.
Then came his plan, be the annoying son, make her commitment waver and eventually just leave.
âââ ⊠âââ
Unfortunately for you that meant dealing with an overly clingy, no-boundaried Richard John Grayson.
His first incident started with you in the kitchen. âSo did you know Bruce told me he never wanted to settle down. Loves the spotlight you know, drama.â He stated, innocently. He first took me on as his ward when he was sayâŠ25.â
You smiled politely, âHe was very youngâŠâ âOh yea, and to think he never had any permanent partners until Miss Kyle a few years back. Longest relationship everâŠâ
Great, the perfect ex. Youâd hear all about her thanks to Dick these days. She was smart, incredibly cunning, a body to absolutely die for and always a challenge to Bruce. Way to make a wife feel good about herself.
Well nothing you could really do, if he preferred an ex over you it wasnât much harm was it? Bruce still chose you (even if it was after an arrangement).
ââŠI kind of miss her you know. She had a certain flare around the manor. And Jase loved her.â You smiled, âIâm sure she misses you too. Would you like a hot chocolate?â
OkayâŠso his plan wasnât working. Phase two.
âââ ⊠âââ
âSoâŠmom, can I call you that? Anyways. How long are you staying with Bruce?â Ignoring the sounds of Jason and Timâs arguement in the lounge you replied, âWhat⊠uhm, forever? I did marry him.â
âYeah but that was arranged, I mean youâve got part of all his property now and you guys never signed a prenup.â âWhy would we do that? Iâm not leaving Dick.â
âRight⊠so anyways mom. Can you make cookies?â âThereâs a few in the pantry still.â âYeah but I like warm fresh ones.â
âRightâŠâ
âââ ⊠âââ
After a week, Dickâs plan fell apart. You didnât seem deterred only, steadfast. You made cookies whenever he requested it, helped Alfred around the house who adored you and well⊠you did seem to make Bruce lighter.
He was definitely going to attend the next Wayne gala. Well least of all he could make sure Tim and Jason had to join him.
Jasonâs plan seemed a bit more passive aggressive. Firstly make her uncomfortable and second well, pull out all the pettiness inside him.
âââ ⊠âââ
At the dinner table, you were all waiting on Bruce. Jason just hadnât stopped staring. Youâd been speaking to Dick about police work and Tim predictably was on his phone but Jason just stared.
âJasonâŠare you alright?â âYep. Just interested.â âOkayâŠcool.â
âSo mom.â Dickâs voice chimed back in, âArenât you gonna go call Bruce?â
âIâm pretty sure heâs working right now Dick.â âI think heâll come down here if you called mom⊠give it a try please? We havenât had dinner with him in ages.â When you glanced at his face, puppy eyes boring into your soul, you knew it was no argument. âFine, Iâll be back soon.â
âWhy are you called her mom, Dickhead? You donât even call Bruce dad.â âSheâs nice JayâŠI like her. Bruce does too.â
Jason rolled his eyes. âWell, I donât like her. Sheâs too⊠genteel for all this. Naive, and she doesnât listen to anything. Definitely doesnât get me.â
âGive her a chance Baby Bird. Maybe sheâll surprise you.â Jason smacked the back of his head for using that nickname. âShut it, it ainât happening.â
Bruce did indeed return with you after you called him from his office. A lovesick smile no one else wouldâve noticed on his face unless they knew him for years plastered on his face. You were holding his hand, almost pulling him after you as you sat in your seat beside him.
âTim, no devices.â Tim groaned at Bruceâs words but moved the phone into his pocket. Dinner commenced a little different than usual with Bruceâs presence in the room. Dick chattered along to you and you chatted back, sometimes sending Bruce a teasing glance or moving your hand to cover his.
Bruce had definitely noticed Jasonâs staring but gave him a look instead of asking outright. You yourself hadnât seemed too bothered with Jasonâs attention on you so no reason to make a fuss.
You met Jasonâs staring, holding eye contact when you werenât conversing. His gaze changed a bit, from defiance to, it seemed, a quiet understanding and almost a challenge. He seemed to be having fun, you guessed.
After dinner and after his shower he spotted a small hard-cover brown leathered book on his bed. The linen bedsheet creating creasing as if leading his eyes towards the book.
Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen
I heard you enjoyed her Pride and Prejudice. I think youâll enjoy this quieter piece too. -(Y/n)
So she heard him and Tim arguing⊠and she has good literary taste.
The book, due to Jasonâs pettiness ended back in Bruceâs room on his side of the bed. Youâd kept giving him books and recommendations that continued to end up back in your room of course, only Jason (maybe Tim and probably Bruce) knew that heâd actually went to buy himself the books and read them in secret.
When Jasonâs one month was up he found himself outside the library thanks to Alfredâs knowledge that you were sitting and reading there.
âHeyâ âOh hi Jasonâ You smiled and patted the cushion beside you even after finding all your gifted books back in your possession. âWhatâs up?â
âI read all your recommendations. I really enjoyed them. I think, other than Pride and Prejudice, Wuthering Heights is my favourite. BrontĂ« seemed to justâŠâ
Yeah. He was attending the gala too.
âââ ⊠âââ
Tim definitely put the most thought into his plan, carefully curating a way to rid the manor of the âcurrent gold digger.â
Christmas coming up he knew he could get Bruce to kick her out due to all the⊠holiday particulars.
Tim, of course, encouraged her to decorate the manor. Strings of lights along the balcony, tinsel flowing down the stairâs railings and one grand Christmas tree in the centre of the manor.
Perfect, Bruce would hate it.
It was an unsaid rule, Bruce could do the Christmas dinner and the presents but decorating hit too close to home. Too close to before Martha and Thomasâs deaths when Christmas was a joyful, family-filled time.
Tim made sure to hang Bruceâs most hated decorations on almost every doorframe and surface in the manor. Mistletoe.
Christmas Day came and Tim just had to wait for the Bruce-Explosion to blow. But nothing happened. Bruce walked out his room, stared up at the mistletoe above his doorway and smiled before making his way through the holiday-nightmare Wayne manor and to his wife.
He pulled her, with a smirk, to a doorframe and kissed her under the mistletoe to Timâs astonishment. What the hell was happening. The man in front of him wasnât Bruce Wayne at all.
Throughout the day, every time Bruce spotted Mistletoe he pulled you across so you were both under it and finished the tradition. Every time his ears heard the tale tell Christmas carols his face lit up with a small smile and Tim almost heard him hum along.
After the normal Christmas dinner, youâd all moved to the sitting room to open presents. Youâd of course received yours, given out wrapped presents and now you waited for the boys to rip the poor paper to shreds.
Dick was ecstatic about his own merchandise (not that you knew), a black hoodie with his blue bird insignia stretched across the fabric and five tickets to the highest bungee jumping site in Gotham. He practically squealed before jumping on you to hug you and debating who he should take.
Jason received a set of high quality collectorâs knives, made with soft leather handles and embellished with small rubies. Plus a vinyl record of Poison Ideaâs latest album. Alfred had to clear his throat to remind Jason to breathe.
Tim was given the smallest box of them all, an 10 by 10 inch box covered in red and green wrapping paper with a bow sat atop.
Unlike his brotherâs he unfurled the paper carefully and eventually opened the lid. His eyes grew wide as he took in the box inside the gift box.
A Quaternary Box. The most difficult out of all the Karakuri boxes. Heâd begged Bruce to let him buy it but was denied since it required 1536 steps to open it and it was a school night. He almost cried. A chocked noise came out of his throat. âThank you. Thank you. I love it.â
Bruceâs arm made its way around your waist after the boys had opened their presents and he laid a gentle kiss upon your forehead. Tim and the boys were occupied with the 10th step to opening the box and Alfred had moved to get dessert despite your request for him to stay. âI knew theyâd love you.â
âHmm you did say soâŠâ
âââ ⊠âââ
âSoâŠguess weâre all going to the gala tomorrow?â Timâs voice came through across the cave. âGuess so.â Jasonâs reply came short and harsh as his back hit the mat.
âGuyssss. I canât believe I have to put on that itching shirt again!â Dickâs complaint rattled against the stones at his volume.
âLucky youâŠâ your voice drawled teasingly from the doorway. âGuess I won the bet, yeah? Have fun at the gala without me.â
Timâs head bobbed up at the sound, Jasonâs mouth open in surprise and Dick almost fell from the gymnastic rings from shock.
And then she was gone, just soft giggles left in the now empty hallway.
âDamn. Sheâs too good.â
A/n: Hey guys, sorry for the wait. Hereâs part 2. Hope you like it :) Itâs a lot more focussed on the boys than Bruce. Lmk what you think and enjoy
It was settled. The papers had been signed by the correct parties, all the planning details of the wedding had been finalised and you were to be sent to Wayne Manor. All without ever meeting the man you would soon be marrying.
The ride was silent, tense even as the chauffeur listened to the soft music coming from the radio. Aside from his professional presence, you were alone with your luggage.
The car came to a halt in front of a large marble staircase leading to mammoth oak-carved doors, windows upon windows and a man standing in the doorway. The marble pillars guided you to him as he greeted you politely.
âMiss (Y/n), Alfred. How lovely to make your acquaintance.â
You nodded in return, smiling as he attempted to take your bags but you held on tighter instead. âNo need Alfred, Iâm perfectly capable. Is the master of the manor here?â
Alfredâs small smile vanished, âNot at this moment, madam.â OhâŠso youâd be alone.
You smiled back, âWill you show me to my room then, sir?â You followed the butlerâs coattails.
âââ ⊠âââ
Over the next few days, youâd sat around the house waiting for just a glimpse of your future husband. He never showed.
Not for the dinners youâd set up in the vast dining hall, nor the arrays of breakfasts youâd make attempting to coax him out of his own living quarters. Nothing.
Your only company was dear Alfred, and you knew he had the weight of a whole manor to carry on his shoulders, so it was no use bothering the man.
âââ ⊠âââ
Preparatory work always took time, makeup, dressing, shoes, jewellery. The artists your mother had hired took their time indeed and yet the wedding was quick, glamorous and superfluous but it really did fly by.
You walked down the aisle looking like an angel to every set of eyes other than your husbandâs, said your corresponding vows, you both kissed each other though it was more of a peck than a kiss and then it was all over.
His eyes barely met yours at the altar, no matter how many times you tried to find them. So much for trying to have a happy marriage even if you didnât choose to marry for love.
The after-party was nonexistent, Bruce disappearing instantly in his fancy black car, leaving you to entertain the guests and find your own way back to the manor.
âââ ⊠âââ
After youâd taken a taxi in your wedding dress, ignored the stares of onlookers and trudged barefoot up the grand marble stairs, you waited. Patiently, in the master bedroom you sat on the bed.
You were supposed to consummate, werenât you? And yet he never came. You slept, the first night of your marriage, alone in a too-big bed surrounded by dunes of silk and pillows.
Over the course of the next week youâd done almost everything to keep yourself busy. Cooked, cleaned where Alfred would let you, read, shopped (with your own money). Anything to keep you busy.
Slowly Bruce started approaching you. From a far distance as if he were a hesitant hunter and didnât want to scare away a lion or be pounced upon by it lest he make a wrong move.
He showed up to dinner once. You both ate in silence. Left a first edition of a book you loved on the side table of your unshared-shared bed. A silent relationship formed, almost as if he were a secret admirer sending you gifts but never revealing himself.
âââ ⊠âââ
âHi.â âHey?â The first words youâd spoken to each other besides your vows. His tone solid and determined, pulled you out of your baking as you responded in question.
âWhy are you baking? Thereâs a pantry full of food.â Your eyebrow raised almost amusedly. âI like a warm homemade biscuit every now and then.â You answered pointedly. He grunted. âWould youâŠlike to help?â
Your relationship shifted, he was trying⊠in his own weird way of course but you could see it. He showed up more, âhelpedâ to spend time with you. You were a constant in his life, a rock that hadnât moved no matter how long he believed you would. He let you in, little by little (after much deliberation and arguments with himself and Alfred.)
His late nights at work became shorter, he spent more time in the manor and one night he dragged you to a fancy restaurant for date night (something that would soon become a weekly tradition) ending in a rather steamy kiss in front of the master bedroom door. Before he moved to walk away and you tugged him back into the room and onto the bed.
It was good, steady and calming. He warmed up to you and your bodies started associating the other with home.
âââ ⊠âââ
The lulling peace of sleep was broken with a boyish shout. Bruceâs arm moving over your waist to pull you closer as his eyes opened. Good, you hadnât awakened only shifted your face into his chest, breathing steady.
He took one glance at his door, spied Dick, Jason and Tim staring with wide open eyes and mouths at their father.
âThe hellââ
âBoys.â He warned, eyes squinting at the light. Dick ignored him, words coming out a mile a minute. âWhoâs that? I didnât know you were dating again⊠when did you start playing the field? Tim did you know about this? Surely you must have. Why didnât you say anything aboutââ
âDick.â Bruceâs warning finally registered in Dickâs mind and he ceased his rambling. âBoys, my wife is sleeping. Do eat breakfast and weâll join you soon.â Though his words quelled no questions, the boys moved away from the door.
âMy love? I know youâre awake. Not even you could sleep through the rambunctious noise that is Dick Grayson.â You shifted guiltily in his hold. âHi BruceâŠâ
âââ ⊠âââ
You made your way to the dining hall after getting ready, Bruceâs arm around your waist to ground you. As soon as youâd walked through the door you could hear the noise.
âHis wife!? Since when.â
âI donât know bro, seemed like theyâve known each other for a while.â
âIntimatelyâŠâ
âHe wouldâve told us surely⊠why keep it a secret?â
Bruce cleared his throat, announcing your arrival. âThis is my wife, (Y/n). (Y/n) these are my boys⊠Dick, Jason and Tim.â
A/n: Hey guys :) 2 fics in one day crazy right. Anyways I hope you enjoyed this one, lmk know what you all think (andddd send requestsss please please) Iâm gonna make a part 2 at some point (probably soon)
Life was different in the manor. Quiet but not in the threatening kind, full of life when Damianâs brothers were around. DefinitelyâŠweird.
They fought with each other often, threatened death without meaning so and it seemed that the butler was the only sane one of them all.
Bruce had confiscated all your weapons, they lay in the cave behind bulletproof glass and covered in laser security. All except one. The blade.
An assassinâs most treasured friend, whoâs been through everything they have themselves. An unforgiving forging, under heat, stress, pressure but coming out an elegant, gleaming and silent killer.
Your sword has been through everything with you, your first killing where your hands trembled and you almost cried as the blood flowed down the edge, the sleepless nights that followed it, a reminder of what youâd done and who you were, the first time the kill didnât seem so much a kill but rather a simple choreâŠ
Now it lay on a simple display stand on the mahogany chest of drawers in front of your bed. As if thatâs all it was, an exhibition, a decoration. No longer is the bloodshed and violence part of your life anymore. Only showcased as a reminder of who you once were.
âââ ⊠âââ
Tim found Damian acting stranger and stranger as the days passed that you were in the manor.
He was softer, gentler with you. Gentler than with even Titus or Alfred the cat, his palms always searched for the sky when you were around, his body language open and approachable even when you could exploit him.
Damian took you on walks around the manor, showing you all his animals and speaking of his aim to rescue more. He brought you gifts (mostly food, sometimes small decorated knives which were then confiscated), was your first friend at Gotham Academy and became the one person you let your guard down around.
It was hilarious to his brothers, Dick and Jason laughed at Damianâs instant change of heart and mind when around you. Tim just wanted the awkward pining to be over.
Funny, two of the most dangerous people Tim knew, relaxed only around each other even though they were the ones who could inflict most damage.
âââ ⊠âââ
One day, when the snow had fallen and Damian decided that for your first snowfall, he should be the one giving you a tour round the manor, his resolve broke.
The quiet yearning in his bones rampaged and suddenly, in a moment your bodies were rather close, he leaned in. Ever so slightly, ever so gently so as to not frighten you, he moved his face towards yours.
Contrary to Jasonâs belief that youâd stab him, you simply leaned in as well, sealing your lips against that of your best friend, then ex-best friend, enemy now lover.
âââ ⊠âââ
Damian let out a soft breath he didnât even know he was holding. Resting his forehead against your own, warmth growing between your faces even in the cold air around you.
âHabibtiâŠâ
âYes Dami?â
His breath hitched at the old term of endearment. So you had forgiven him.
A wide smile broke out on his face, his arms coming round your waist to pull you closer to him. âIâve missed you.â
And if the way you were nuzzling into him could speak words, it was a definite answer, you had missed him too. Heâd broken your built up walls from when heâd left and settled, after having to conquer, in your heart. Made you softer and gentler as he had grown while around you.
Maybe it was better that your beautiful sword be now, only a beautiful sword.
Choosing, to be on display, to be threatening, and have the power to be lethal but not actually kill. To be the soft silk enveloping the handle, instead of the harsh, unforgiving blade on the other end.
A/n: So hereâs part 2, created on a whim đ I hope you enjoy, itâs a lot fluffier but Iâm not great at fluff so yeah. Symbols and all yayyy. Let me know what you think :) Also Iâd really love any requests for literally any characters (thereâs a wide scope so Iâll let you know if I can write for them as I get requests?) anyways hope you had fun reading
Cold and dark. Descriptions of the Gotham night that also fit you. You scoured the rooftops, lurking, searching for your prey. One small little bird⊠a Robin.
You spotted the scuffle down in the alley, five or six of the trained assassinâs sent by Raâs were failing. Blood spurting under blades and soft groans of pain filling the silent night. You sighed, âSo much for experienced assassins.â
As the last black-clad fighter fell to his knees you jumped. Landing on silent feet behind the caped crusader you brought out your sword. A beautiful thing, really. Layers upon layers of hand-forged steel weaving into a fine Damascus, the silk Ito dressed the sword creating diamonds along the handle. Your katana. A gift from him. Not that heâd recognise it now.
No one else wouldâve heard you land. Your feet soft as snow when it falls to the ground, particle by particleâŠexcept to him. Your teacher, your peerâŠyour best friend. Ex-best friend.
Enemy.
He bristled, muscles tightening but he didnât turn toward you. RightâŠhe doesnât know who you are. Good, itâs been too long anyways. He wouldnât remember.
Silently, you stalked him as a leopard stalks her prey, sword glinting in the moonlight.
You moved swiftly, blade coming down in a cascade. Blocked by his. Steel against steel. Sparks flying from each hit. Just as beforeâŠonly a few differences.
Then a mistake. A kick, taught by him. It was unique, and he knew it. He stopped, chest heaving and sword held up, on guard. âWho are you?â You didnât reply, instead striking harder, aiming for more vulnerable places on his body. âYouâŠhow did you knowâŠwhere did you learn that kick?â
Damnit. At least he doesnât know who I am yet.
âI know youâ He threatened, voice hot and hissing. You stilled, glaring at him through the slits in your mask.
Two statues on a rooftop, warriorâs statues with blades raised as taught. He blinked, eyes glowing in recognition.
â(Y/n)â he breathed finally, shoulders relaxing a tad. âPrince.â you spoke. A whisper so harsh it couldâve shattered his sword.
âWhat are you doing here? Why are you fighting me?â He demanded, fury on his tongue yet his eyes were gentle and soft. âOrdersâ Your sharp response was rewarded with a âttâ from him.
Sword forgotten in his hilt, he approached carefully. A shepherd approaching a lamb so as not to scare it. You faltered as his blade vanished, confused. âWhat are you doing?â You hissed. âFace me with your blade or Iâll kill you where you standâ
His hands outstretched, palms to the sky. âI wonât fight you (Y/n). I know who you are. Come back to me.â
âFunny. You never came back to me.â You spat, the words poison on your tongue. He froze, eyes closing with guilt. âI know.â
âYou forgot me. Forgot what they put us through. Everyday the same: wake, eat, train, sleep. And then I had to do it all alone. Without you.â You hissed the last two words, they hurt the most.
âI didnât. I thought of you everyday.â
âWell you didnât think hard enough to come back did you? Enough chatter. Fight me Damian.â
âNo. Come with me now. Iâm sorry I left you there⊠Father wouldnât have allowed me back. But you can come now⊠please.â
âYour Father wonât be very impressed.â
âDoesnât matter. Iâll make him see.â
Your heart stuttered⊠was he offering what you thought he was? A life⊠away from the shadows and guilt, from blood stained hands and echoing screams. Too good to be true. But it was him. Damian Al Ghul never liesâŠ
âCome with me. I can give you what youâve wanted since we were young. Freedom, choice. Home and not just a house.â
Your forced loyalty to the Demon Head bristled. Seems like he still knew you.
A small nod made its way through your body, blade slowly moving back to its hilt. Damian moved closer, a breath of relief left his lips. âCome. Follow.â
He jumped from rooftop to rooftop, cape fluttering behind him and a few seconds later so did you.
The cave was cold, condensation causing droplets to fall from the stalactites. His gaze wasnât cold per seâŠno Bruce looked at you like an object. Eyes scrutinised how useful youâd be, how reckless, how dangerous.
âFine. But sheâs to stay in the manor at all times until further notice.â âFine fatherâ Damian muttered back, sensing you were about to fight against Bruceâs conditions.
âSo much for freedom and choice.â âItâs only temporary. You can leave with an escortâŠâ âThat wasnât mentionedâ He didnât answer, only dragged you to the kitchen where Alfred had set up Damianâs usual snack after patrol.
âEat.â You stood in the doorframe. Food had never been comfort. Never been given freely. It was a necessity, a reward. And yet, a simple command, eat.
So you sat, back stiff as a board and watched as Damian ate. He was obviously hungry, obviously used to this treatment. You didnât eat until he slid a plate of food in front of you seeing as you wouldnât grab any yourself. Slowly, as if scared someone would snatch it away as soon as you touched the food, you ate. Alfred watched from the sidelines, a small smile appearing discretely at Damianâs unusual kindness.
The next few days, youâd met Tim. He was absent most of the time. In his room, in his mind. You didnât mind. Jason was louder⊠crude, called you Damianâs girlfriend and stopped only once youâd taken out your katana. Dick was interesting. Heâd hugged Damian as he saw him though the latter boy stayed stiff other than a hand patting Dickâs back. Heâd attempted to hug you too but backed away once youâd kicked his knee. Bruce let you be mostly, calling you down to the cave every once in a while to see you fight against his training bots. You always won.
Things were becoming normal. Except Damian was becoming stranger.
His hand lingering in yours once youâd pulled him off the training mat after defeating him. You ignored his brotherâs gaping at that feat. His eyes found yours everyday after school. It was treacherous, you knew everything they attempted to teach. His body leaned closer when you spoke and he always seemed to move closer and closer with each passing day.
It was quite simple to Dick, Jason and Tim. Damian Wayne had a crush. On an assassin he rescued, no less. And the Damian Wayne was too shy to do anything about it.
A/n: Okayyyy so second fic. I like this one better. Itâs a lot more scenic?? I know itâs a very well known trope for Damian but I felt better trying to do a well known one since itâs more comfortable. Hope you like this đ and I hope I got all the charactersâ personalities right. Let me know what you think Iâd really appreciate any comments/feedback :) Also Iâm super open to requests if anyone leaves me any?? (Just no smut/ x male!reader I donât think I could do either of those justice) anyways hope you enjoyed
So Iâm new and I really want to write something (Iâm bored and on holiday) but Iâve got like absolutely no inspiration đđ Anyone have a story idea???? Iâm trying to write âx readerââs
| Peter Parker x gn!Reader
| Warnings: Angst without comfort, cheating
Peter had always carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. Saving countless New York citizens everyday, dealing with exams and papers and college lecturers and yet he always had time for you. Always made time.
It was never a hassle, he told you. Never anything to worry about because he loves you, you make him better. Bring him a calm and joy that only comes when oneâs comfortable with another. And yet⊠maybe you were taking up too much time that he wasnât telling you about?
It started off slow and quiet. No drastic or easily noticeable change, except to your body. Your feelings.
You could tell he started pulling away, there were more awkward silences, more pulling aways than pulling towards, nowadays. His answers were dry, a few words formed a sentence: a stark contrast to the one paragraph sentences from before.
But you pulled through, keeping everything contained in its jar, nothing overflowing. Just the steady rise of unsaid arguments and cold words until the whole vessel shattered.
It happened quick, the shattering, on a seemingly normal trip to get coffee during your lunch hour. A familiar mop of brown hair, sweet smile and gentle eyes you hadnât seen in the past few weeks sitting acrossâŠher. Blonde hair, mesmerising green eyes, hand covering his on the table as if she wasnât a secret.
They knew each other, intimately, they were comfortable with each other. His eager head tilting, an action that once was yours was now shared with this mystery woman too. Soft moments and words between a couple, a man you knew so well and a woman you knew nothing of. Even the glass cracking seemed quiet.
Your breath hitched, tears welling up. You shouldâve known this was coming. Emotions raged, and yet you pulled it together. Nothing worse than letting anyone know it affected you. He was the great Spider-Man, of course he was attractive to many people, he belonged to the City of New York, not you alone.
Coffee yearning abandoned, you slipped away, turning your body and face towards the street in front of you. Sighing, you walked back homeâŠthough it seemed more a house now that he wasnât a permanent part of it anymore.
Walking into the bedroom, you grabbed a suitcase and started packing. The essentials only. You wanted to run. Didnât want him to know you saw him⊠didnât want his apologies or else you knew youâd pity him and forgive.
As soon as you finished, you moved the suitcase out the apartment. You hadnât cried yet, wouldnât cry yet. Not in his apartment.
For the first time in 3 years you stood in your own apartment. It was cold, unfurnished except a couch you left. Guess thatâs a worthy bed for tonight⊠Sending a quick message to your mother that youâd be coming past to collect some things you sat down.
The tears finally pulled from your body, your hands coming to shield your face from the world. The glass jar shattered right there and then. And you, alone in your empty apartment, were left to pick up the pieces.
A/N: So hi, this is my first ever fan fiction piece of writing and I hope you like it. Please give me all your feedback, Iâd really appreciate it :) This is all unedited and written in like 20 min đ apologies but I hope you enjoyed
