"Batman birthed all his Robin's" but Dick gaslit himself (and othere) into believing it was true to some extent.
â
Dick, eight years old, staring a reporter in the eye: What?
Reporter: Rumor has it that Bruce Wayne and Batman have been seen together.
Dick: Well DUH!
Dick: Batman gave birth to me :)
Bruce, choking on his drink in the background:
â
Later, Jason sitting in Dick's apartment, playing a video game: Any reason reporters think Batman and Bruce are dating?
Dick, not paying any attention: Didn't he give birth to you?
Jason: ???? What the F*CK!?
â
Much later, Jason being told Catherine wasn't his bio Mom before seeing his birth certificate: Oh my god. Batman gave birth to me.
â
Bruce: I'm fine, Nightwing.
Dick: Sure you aren't pregnant again?
Bruce:
Bruce: What?
Dick: You really gotta start using protection.
â
Dick, half asleep during movie night: Can't believe you slept with Willis Todd.
Jason, a full adult: Both my Dad's are hoes.
Bruce: . . .
â
Timbin: Hi, Mr. Nightwing Robin Dick Grayson Sir!!! I'm Tim Drakeâ
Dick: I KNEW BRUCE SLEPT WITH JACK DRAKE!!!
Timbin: . . . Clearly you're still deeply affected by the death of Jason Todd.
â
Tim, after spending a week with Dick: . . . Dad?
Jack: Yes, son?
Tim: Did Bruce Wayne give birth to me?
Jack:
Jack: Are you doing drugs with Ives??
â
Stephanie:
Dick: Iâ
Stephanie: Make the joke and I'll make sure you lack your namesake.
Dick: Understood.
â
Tim, walking into the cave: Alfred said Bruce won't be patrolling tonight. I think he was complaining about stomach cramps.
Dick: All the pregnancies really did a number on him.
Jason: Probably Tim's fault, on his medical records it said he was born nearly ten pounds.
Dick: What happened, Tim?! You're so tiny now.
Jason: To bad he didn't consider abortion.
Tim: I wish he aborted you!
Jason: He probably tried to abort you! Your a#& just dodged the hanger.
Tim: Maybe you should've taken note and dodged that crowbar.
Dick: Guys, stop making abortion and death jokes! But to be technical I was the easiest pregnancyâ
Damian: WHAT IS EVERYONE TALKING ABOUT?!
Tim, grinning at Jason:
Jason, clearing his throat: I think it's time you found this out Damian...
Dick, dramatically placing a hand on Damian's shoulder: Bruce gave birth to us all.
Damian:
Damian: What?
Jason: Think about it. Who would be insane enough to not abort Tim?
Damian: . . . Father.
Tim: Do you really think Talia Al Ghul would spend nine months undergoing the hardships of pregnancy?
Damian: I . . . No . . . Wait . . .
Dick: Jason didn't die searching for his birth Mother, Dami.
Jason, trying not to laugh: The Joker was jealous that he wasn't the Father, Damian. He killed me because I wasn't his.
Damian: You're all liars!
Jason: It's true! Batman and The Joker were in a very committed relationship!
Dick: My Dad is actually the Joker.
Damian: . . . what .
Dick: Who do you think gave me my love of the circus, Dames?
Tim: It was before the acid incident, obviously.
Jason: Batman cheated on him, that's how I was born.
Damian: . . . Batman gave birth to me?
Tim: Batman gave birth to all of us, Damian.
Duke, in the background: I am not a part of this!
â
Damian, the next time he meets with Talia: Mother?
Talia: Yes, my heart?
Damian: Is it true that Grayson was the Joker and Batman's child and that Todd was born out of wedlock from Batman which is what led to him being murdered and their divorce and that Timothy was birthed by Batman from an affair and that you got Batman pregnant and he also birthed me?
Talia, taking his face in her hands:
Talia: I wasn't supposed to tell you until you were older.
â
Bruce: Dick, Jason?
Dick: Yeah, B?
Jason: What?
Bruce: Can you please stop telling your siblings elaborate stories regarding me birthing them?
Jason: No.
Dick: What? No harm no foul!
Bruce, inhaling sharply: Damian beat the Joker within an inch of his life today, screaming "Why couldn't you love Todd as your own?" And then, as he was being taken to Arkham, shouted, "Do you know what the divorce did to Grayson!?"
Jason:
Dick:
Bruce: Tim still thinks I slept with his Father.
Jason: Didn't you?
Bruce: Jason.
Jason: Bruce.
Dick: Okay, so, maybe it's a little bit out of hand...
Bruce: Damian think you're a child of divorce between me and the Joker! Harley Quinn keeps asking why the Joker didn't even get weekends with you!
Jason: Maybe you should've thought about that before getting the divorce.
Bruce: Jason. Peter. Todd. Wayne.
Dick: Look, B, it's not that bad! It's funny. Dami will grow up and realize it was a stupid prank.
Jason: The story bits yeah.
Bruce: . . . Jay, what do you mean the story bits?
Jason: He'll still know you birthed us all.
Bruce:
Dick:
Dick: Jason. You know that Sheila is the one who actually gave birth to you, right?
Jason:
Jason: Dick. You told me that you picked out my middle name.
Dick:
Bruce:
Jason:
Dick: Now you're f*cking with us.
Jason: I could be. I could not be. But either way, betrayal happened in this room tonight.
Bruce: Dick.
Dick: Okay, fine, I'll stop telling people you birthed us and let the Joker raw dog you...
â
Meanwhile, many years earlier, the one time a reporter interacted with Alfred:
Alfred: I birthed the boy myself! I do believe I am fit to be his caretaker!
what if theyâre genuinely fed up with all the crime and are sorta pissed about being bitten,
and once they genuinely start patrolling, theyâre just webbing everyone up, and asking them why they were committing crimes,
maybe if thereâs like a group of thugs they web whoeverâs âtalking out of lineâ
months later they present the fact-based pie chart to a random interviewer,
iâm thinking
âso whatâs that in your pocket?â
*wips out a whole bunch of graphs of why people were out doing crimes*
âso iâm just saying, if i donât see any billionaires giving money to charities, i might find dirt and sueâ
WAIT THIS IS SO FUNNY. Going off your idea, I feel like it would be a little like:
Spider-Person accidentally develops a reputation among Gotham criminals as being worse than Batman for entirely different reasons.
Batman breaks your ribs
But this Spider Person has "crime satisfaction level" surveys
There are grown men in Blackgate who would rather take another concussion than answer "and how did that make you feel?" while suspended thirty feet above the ground in industrial-strength webbing
The first time Batman actually witnesses one of these interrogations, he expects intimidation tactics
But instead it goes down like:
Thug: "What are you doing."
Spider-Person: "Exit survey."
Thug: "Exit what."
Spider-Person: "On a scale from one to ten how satisfied were you with your criminal career."
Thug: "WHAT."
Spider-Person: already writing
"Strong emotional response. Interesting."
The rogues absolutely hate them
Because the Spider person somehow manages to escape every bit of the theatrics. Riddler spends three weeks designing a complex puzzle and Spider-Person solves it by accidentally finding the answer key while looking through public records.
Riddler has never recovered from that.
Joker tries doing his usual monologue and the Spider-person starts taking notes
Joker: "What are you doing?"
Spider-Person: "This is fascinating."
Joker: "What is?"
Spider-Person: "You're the only respondent who selected all fourteen warning signs."
Joker: "What warning signs?"
Spider-Person: "The warning signs. The mental illness ones. Congratulations, you have fourteen."
Joker: "What does that mean???"
Spider-Person: "I'm making a graph later. You're welcome to swing by..haha..see what I did there?"
Tim becomes obsessed with proving Spider-Person's data collection is flawed and ridiculous because he, himself, overcomplicated things.
Tim is furious.
"You cannot just walk around doing sociology."
Spider-Person: "I can and I am."
Gotham's billionaires eventually learn that if Spider-Person approaches them smiling, they're about to go up on a chart somewhere
Every annual report just gets worse
The first one is professional, something like Appendix A
The second one is concerned, something like Gotham's (rather poorly hidden) issue
And by the third they give up and start naming it things like..
"Respectfully, What Are We Doing Here?"
"I Have Explained This Before."
"See Previous Graph."
"For The Love Of God."
If they meet a billionaire genuinely helping people, they move on. Whatever. It's cool.
If they meet a billionaire doing absolutely nothing..congratulations! You're on appendix C. Nobody wants to end up on Appendix C.
Bruce ends up in Appendix C once. It is the most humiliating experience of his life.
Spider-Person titled it "Sir, You Have The Resources."
The Batfamily finds this so funny they never let him forget it. Especially Jason who likes to wait patiently for Bruce to fuck up.
Jason pulled a Regina George and printed copies of Appendix C. He plastered it all over the Manor.
They. Were. Everywhere.
Spider-Person eventually starts recognizing repeat offenders too & this creates a bizarre dynamic
"Kevin."
"Please don't."
"Kevin, we talked about this."
"PLEASE DON'T."
"We literally made a budget together."
Batman, watching from a rooftop: "âŚdid they make a budget together?"
Nightwing: "Apparently."
At one point Spider-Person genuinely helps a low-level criminal find a job. And then another. And another. And it becomes a thing.
Entire sections of Gotham's criminal underworld start viewing them as some weird combination of probation officer, social worker, and cryptid
Nobody knows what category they're supposed to fit into
I think COmissioner Gordon would find this hilarious though, because hey, whatever helps the city
LMOA cause I just imagined Reader meeting Miguel ( before the whole thing of him trying to kill Miles happened )
And just slaps him đŠ.
Reader: *Glaring up at Miguel* Bend down for me.
Miguel: *Bends down for your 5 foot ass*
Reader: *Slaps shit out of him*
Miguel: Did you...
Now all the Spider-Man ( especially Miles ) are thinking he'll kill the reader.
Reader: I wouldn't even try buckaroo.
Gwen: Did she just say buckaroo.
Miles: She did
Reader: *Continues to speak* if you hurt me then you'll be pissing off lot of people...like my husband, my boys, my girls, my teleporting dog, my mind reading dog, my Jeff, the Punisher, The Justice League..The Avengers...The Guardians!! Stephen Strange!!
Peter B: she just keeps going.
Miles: yea...she befriended a lot of people including my mom.
Gwen: I dont think she's taken a breath.
Reader: and The Justice League! The X-Men! Moon Knight! Ghost Rider, The Dark Justice League....Harley Quinn! ivy! Selena! Talia!!
Miguel: ....
Hours later:
Reader: And the Teenage Mutant Ninja turtles!! SO BACK OFF!
English isn't my native language; it's me and the translator against the world. This is just an idea that I'll probably end up using later, but until then...
Jason dies (as always). His ghost ends up in Amity Park, where he meets Team Phantom and they have many adventures, spend time together, become family, and are happy (not for long). Jay is pulled back into life, forgetting much of the time he spent as a ghost, and plots his revenge.
Team Phantom panics because Jason has disappeared, so they search for him (they've been through a lot, they've grown, even Dan has been redeemed alongside Vlad). Clockwork tells them he's found their Jason and shows them everything that's happened, everything that's changed.He's no longer the heroic little ghost, he's no longer sweet, nerdy, he doesn't even seem like the same Jason they knew. But Clockwork lets them see everything, not a summary, but everything that has happened, everything he has survived. The moments when they glimpse something of that boy they loved, they see how the corrupted ectoplasm alters his mind, amplifying every negative emotion and trauma. Clockwork shows them the future, how that confrontation will end, and the possible bad outcomes for Jason.
Because for his entire "family," things will be alright, they'll be happy, the world is safe, but they don't even notice their supposed brother.
They can go before the confrontation or after it; they can try to stop it or they can join him.
They decide to join him.
[Because Robin has magic, even in the worst moments, Robin kept them together when they felt they were losing them, because Robin is theirs]
They go to his world, they ambush him, mainly to forcibly remove that rotten ectoplasm.
When the Lazarus Water leaves his system, after he falls unconscious, the memories return.
These people aren't the enemy, they are his friends, his family, hisâŚ
None of them judge him for what happened, they just seem hurt that he suffered so much alone; he doesn't have to be alone anymore.
He has a team, he has to train them even more than before because Gotham is a cursed land, his world is cruel.
They come up with aliases based on fairy tales, just for fun. If Jason is Red Hood (Jazz made him a hood, even though it didn't match his usual style, but Jason simply couldn't refuse.)
Jazz is Siren. There's power in her words because she's liminal.; she's discovered she can compel people to tell the truth, persuasive. It's not mind control, but she can alter people's emotions. She's the group's spy.
Sam is simply "Witch." She harnesses her powers over plants, even donning green body paint like the Wicked Witch of the West. Of course, she has to go and stalk Poison Ivy. But she also incorporates details from various fairytale witches.
Tucker is "Mirror." Everything computer-relatedâhacking, tracking, controlling technologyâis his forte. He'll put Oracle in a tight spot because he has her own power over technology. (When the others leave, they call him "Mirror, mirror on the wall, can you get me this information?" It amuses them and the children in the alley too.)
Dan decided to be "Beast" because he felt the character suited himâsomeone arrogant who has finally found his heart again and become human once more. He's much more terrifying to watch. He's the one who helps enforce the rules because he looks terrifying in his costume, but he's kind and a little clumsy with the children.
Ellie is the "Puss in Boots"âher chaotic manner and smooth talk distract everyone or lead them into traps and trouble (they considered Cheshire, but remembered the Mad Hatter and didn't want anyone to associate them together; Ellie is happy because she can wear ridiculous hats and more extravagant boots whenever she wants). She's the closest thing to "Robin" that Jason's heart could bear.
Vlad is the "Uncle Drosselmeyer," the only "real adult" who decided to buffer the group's madness. Besides infiltrating high society as if he'd always been there, what he actually does is deceive the rich with corrupt positions to steal from them and give back to the people.
Clockwork decided that although he can't appear there (and play alongside them), he can help them because he has no restrictions in Jason's world, so they call him their benefactor, "Mr. Grimm," who sends them information that can change the course of events.
(This is Dead on Main, but any other ship could work, just pick the Fenton you want to pair with Jason, hahaha)
Danny is "Hunter," Red Hood's partner, who supports him unconditionally even if their morals differ. Danny is there to back Jason up because when they became friends, Jason was the only ghost who helped Danny, so they know how to work as a team, they truly trusted each other; their feelings progressed from camaraderie to a deep friendship and finally to romance (it seemed like it had been a long time ago).
(If you decided to swap Jazz for Danny, Danny would be "Hamelin" or "Peter Pan," so Jazz has to be "Wolf" because there's already a Huntress. If it were Dan, he'd stay the same and say Jason is his "Belle"âin fact, he'd call him that all the time.)
Suddenly, the Bats will discover that Red Hood has more mysterious allies because every time they're about to capture him, a new vigilante appears.
These people don't seem to be as highly trained as Red Hood, but they have too many tricks that Red Hood can't outsmart. But as time goes on they will become more trained, they move as one and they are here to stay.
The revelation happens, not as Jason originally planned, but with each passing day he wonders if it's necessary, if he really wants to go back or know the answer, even though he already knows it. But he still gives it a chance.
It's him or me.
[A or B?]
[Because he took me away from you]
[Because you taught me that our lives mean something, our deaths mean something, so what do my life and my death mean? Why can't you choose me?]
[You never chose me]
Before the skin of his neck is damaged, there's a sudden movement. Red Hood, Jason, is no longer there, but the Joker's head rolls. The "hunter's" scythe was so fast, the Joker didn't even realize he was dead. There was no more laughter, no more crying. A smoke bomb filled the place, then there was an explosion.
When Bruce came out, he saw Red Hood. Jason, his son, looked at him with pain and betrayal.
"So you've made your decision, Bruce. Live with it now."
Jason put on the Red Hood helmet. Beside him, Hunter holds his blood-soaked scythe. In his other hand, he holds the Joker's head by the hair.
He can make out the other strangers on the rooftops farther away: Siren, Beast, Witch, and the youngest of the group, Puss in Boots.
They are in formation, waiting to see if they should protect their leader, if they should attack, if he will move.
Red Hood moves toward his own territory. Puss in Boots moves to his possible hiding place. Red Hood passes Beast, and when he reaches Siren, she goes with him.
Hunter and Beast stay behind.
âYou turned your back on him,â Hunter said. âYou were going to cut his throat, because of this.â He shook his head. âEven when we told him youâd never want him enough, he gave you a chance. We told him youâd do this. Heâs that kind. But now heâs ours. We donât plan on giving him back.â His voice was strange; he couldnât see his face through the black helmet that matched Jasonâs. The robotic voice, chosen to frighten, said, âI hope youâre satisfied with your decision.â
That was all he said before another explosion took him by surprise. The hunter and the beast were gone.
_____________
Of course, although Bruce wants to keep Red Hood's identity a secret, he only gets so far. The Batfamily discovers it through Mirror (as a small attack to sow discord within the group).
Jason's criminal group would also adopt fairytale character names because no one told them they couldn't name themselves after fairytale characters. Jason would arrive to discover that there are squads named after the seven dwarfs from Snow White (this is how they differentiate between those who agree with killing, those who don't want to, those who help with children, etc.). Some of the "working girls" are "fairy godmothers." The more trust there is between Red Hood and his lieutenants, the more likely it is that those people decided on a nickname, or someone gave them a nickname and it wasn't worth correcting them.
Jason left them alone with Team Phantom, and now they all have a bit of a fairytale about them.
Of course, this could lead to jealousy from the Batfamily.
Bruce also wants to blame these strangers for Jason's change because it's easier to shift that blame onto them.
They don't know the whole story, so they only have theories, the words of these "vigilantes" who aren't always trustworthy.
There would be many misunderstandings because every time they spy on Jason and his team, they'll only discover that there are two other people behind the scenes.
First, they'll discover "Uncle Drosselmeyer," thinking he's the true mastermind of the organization, the one who must be manipulating all these young people, until, through another misunderstanding, they'll discover the puppet master.
Mr. Grimm, as the one who brought them all together, their secret benefactor, "the one pulling the strings," who seems to be having a great time with all the chaos they create in the city.
Bruce might become desperate about Mr. Grimm, believing he's the one who brainwashed his son, someone worse than Ra's al Ghul. In fact, he doesn't even think Ra's had anything to do with it because, by the time of the reveal, Jason would have his blue eyes back since the Lazarus problem would have been fixed. So Bruce is silently going crazy trying to discover the identity of this "Mr. Grimm" who seems to control or know a lot about the world. Bruce won't discover until much, much later that it was Talia who threw Jason into the Lazarus Pit, but he'll still believe that Mr. Grimm is the one who brought Jason back to life.
By the time Damian arrives, it could happen in two ways: Damian might arrive at the mansion, or Jason might decide to bring Damian to his side.
If Damian stays with Jason, he would become the new Puss in Boots, and Ellie would be Cinderella. (I mean, one of Damian's Robin costumes already has the boots, plus what would help him loosen up more?)
Batman has Robin.
Red Hood has Puss in Boots.
Selina would be involved with Ellie in some way because of the cat theme.(because there's another vigilante out there with the cat thing, and she has to be there).
(Also, I can imagine Damian and Selina agreeing on caring for cats and other animals).
Damian would have this group of people he can't kill (because some are already dead, you're a little late, kid). They're so chaotic but healthy; they see this kid raised in a cult and say, "He's ours now."
Actually, see Tucker and Sam's arguments about eating meat or not as something similar to Batman's no-kill rule and the League of Assassins' ideology, before he changes to his own criteria. He'll come to the conclusion that neither is right nor wrong, and you can't force others to follow your moral rules.
In Dan, he'll find someone who, despite causing so much harm, was given a second chance because everyone deserves a second chance. He chose to change, to be kind, and to know when he can be cruel.
(Jaybin used what Bruce taught himâthat everyone can change and be goodâthat's how he helped Dan not to hate himself, that he could still be good. So, in a way, this lesson would still reach Damian.)
Jazz is that almost maternal figure. It's not that Talia was bad, but she couldn't be gentle. Damian knows his mother loves him, but having an older sister is different, yet similar. Jazz doesn't use her powers on anyone in her family, not even Damian; she uses them to help people.
For some reason, Vlad's rigidity relaxes him; his food is good, they can talk, and even plot petty revenge against the rich together.
Ellie helps him become more like a child, because at first she tricks him into thinking it's part of the "Puss in Boots" charmâconniving, chaotic, but helpful to people. Then they become a pair causing chaos, and Damian enjoys it.
The difference between Robin and Puss in Boots is that Puss in Boots can kill if necessary to save his own life.
No more dead Robins.
Jason would end up allying himself with other "villains" through connections: Poison Ivy, Harley Quinn, Catwoman, Riddler, and Killer Croc. Their relationships range from being on his side to being merely neutral.
And that's all I have.
That Bruce is still searching for whoever stole Jason.
Jason has this whole team of vigilantes and his own alley crew who decided to give themselves names related to children's stories (they incapacitated the Mad Hatter so he couldn't ruin the idea).
He has his friends, family, and partner back, and they love him unconditionally.
The Bat-family is jealous, confused, indignant, and annoyed.
Clockwork would really bother Bruce and Tim.
Vlad would have a night out drinking with Harley, Pamela, and Selina because, although he loves his group of kids, they're a mess, and he doesn't know why he loves them and keeps taking care of them.
So...one day I thought "hmmm, what if we had another season about the bad timeline" and then I went to draw it.
Tip jar (my Ko-fi page)
Fanart Edits Fanfics Little interesting details
_________________ Cover___________________
Ep 1. Master Leonardo becomes Baby Blue once again
Ep 2. Can you carry your uncles?
Ep 3. Raph is dead. The good news is it's fixable
Ep 4. Your brain may be human, but your soul speaks in turtle
Ep 5. Mikey looks sixty, but he's not even forty. Donnie can do something about that
Ep 6. Krangified
Ep 7. How many cool points does your dad have?
Ep 8. You may not be human. You might actually be a turtle
Ep 9. Commander O'Neil
Ep 10. Tiny Tello
Ep 11. The little things
Ep 12. Everything is falling apart
Ep 13. You are in the past, your thoughts are in the future
Ep 14. Donatello
Ep 15. Raphael
Ep 16. And the two they left behind
Ep 17. You've got cuddles and hot water. Both are limitless
Ep 18. So many turtles
Ep 19. Find the Krang, stop the...wait..
Ep 20. The winter is long
ââââ
C.A.S. Animated project - Part 1 Part 2
Quick q&a:
Drawn in Procreate (mostly). Commissions are closed. Tcest dni. This whole comic is about family and platonic relationships. My youtube. Basic round brush. Page size: 1620Ă2160.
If you use my comic pages in your art (such as edits, redraws, etc) please credit me as their author and attach a link to this blog. Thank you:)
"It seems so weird looking at him giggling." Steph muttered, "But understandable too."
Jason kept on giggling as he texted his phone, having gotten the boy's number.
"Yeah, I would have kissed him in the mouth for having done Joker, but too bad Jason got to him first." Barbara sighed.
"By the way, you haven't said anything much, Damian." Tim looked to Damian, who was quietly reading a book.
"What else is there left to say?"
All of them were ignoring Dick and B arguing with a Jason who wasn't listening shit to them. Dick was defending Jason while Bruce was protesting about Jason going after a guy who killed Joker.
"What do you mean by that?" Steph looked at Damian, who sighed, as if it was common sense.
"Jason was given the head of his enemy, a fitting gift if one should want to court him." Damian replied.
PING!
All of them looked at their phones for the notification. Jason seemed to have posted something online.
Jason Todd: Does anyone have a good recommendation for a taxidermist?
"Jason!" Bruce scolded him.
"What? Was I just supposed to keep his head in a cooler?" Jason argued.
Almost immediately, there were multiple recommendations, and taxidermists jumped at the opportunity to taxidermy the Joker's head.
Many people also wanted to watch the process and clamoured for a live stream.
"Should I learn taxidermy, too?" Tim muttered, which made Steph snort.
"Tim!" Bruce scolded him next.
Then, Alfred came in with a display case.
"Master Jason, could I recommend using this glass dome to display the head?"
Many cheered when it was revealed. Damian approved of it as it was a beautiful glass case.
"Also, a package for you arrived." Alfred handed Jason a package with multiple 'fragile' marks stamped around the package.
Jason curiously inspected it and picked up the letter addressed to him.
Hey,
So. Uh. This is the heart.
I wasnât sure if you wanted it, but since I already gave you the head, I thought it might feel incomplete without the rest. Not all the rest, obviously â just the important part. Well, I guess the second-most important part, after the head.
I put it in a jar of preservatives, but if you want to do something else with it, sorry.
Anyway, I thought maybe you'd want to do something with it. Bury it. Burn it. Play football with it. I donât know. But the jar is really sturdy, and I tested it with a jackhammer.
I guess what Iâm trying to say is⌠I remembered what he said when he thought I was you, and I didnât like it.
So now he wonât anymore.
Hope this helps.
Danny
Jason just
Swoons
He buried his face in his hands and screamed into them. The others clamoured behind him to read what was in the letter, passing it around for everyone to read.
Steph whistles.
"That's the most awkwardly romantic thing I have ever seen."
Cass nudged Jason to open the package quickly. She looked up at him in anticipation.
Damian just plucked the package and opened it, revealing a heart sitting in a jar of preservatives. He held the heart high above his head to present it to everyone.
"Jason..." Dick sniffled, arms going around Jason tightly who for once let it happen.
Bruce looked at the scene and then sighed. He couldn't be angry at how relieved everyone felt upon Joker's death. He came up to Jason and reached out to squeeze Jason's shoulder. His son, who died at the hands of Joker.
He was so glad that he was able to see him grow up so big.
"I will be paying very handsomely to the taxidermist. You just have to choose who you feel is the best." He murmured.
Tim already stole his wallet from the back of his pocket to take out a card.
"We're using his BLACK CARD!!!" Tim yelled, presenting the card into the air.
Steph wrestled him for the card, and both of them dropped to the ground.
Alfred just side-stepped them to help Dick and Jason to screen for a good taxidermist.
Cass, Barbara, and Damian were just looking at the heart in awe, and they started discussing where the best place is to display both the heart and the head.
Bruce looked at his family. He supposes he should approve of Danny, as this was the first time in so long that everything was peaceful.
Jason was being held hostage by the Joker. He immediately wanted to kill him, but currently, he was in his civilian form, and he hated he couldnât act on his urges.
The dude beside him who was kidnapped as well by accident bc some goons who werenât aware that his identity as Jason Todd had been brought back from the dead thought that the twink was Jason Todd rather than a tank looking man.
Right now, the guy was being suicidal, taunting the Joker by saying that "he isn't a clown bc at least clowns are funny! Meanwhile, you're just a joke!"
He insulted, taunted and joked around, but then Jason noticed he tried to keep the attention on himself and not Jason, the 'main dish'.
Then, the guy taunted Joker even more by revealing that he removed his handcuffs and playing around with it.
Having enough, Joker lunged at the guy, infuriated, especially since he was being humilated live.
The guy, not expected it, stepped backwards and tripped on his chair. And along the way, accidentally decapitated the Joker that way.
It was unbelievably dumb and something you wouldnât expect at all.
The guy reached out towards Joker, like he was scrambling to find balance as he tripped back on the chair. He fell backwards, his hands pulling on Joker's head while his feet were pushing Joker's body, accidentally severing Joker's head from his body.
Everyone in the warehouse and those watching live pause in disbelief. Not able to react.
The dude got up sheepishly, only to realise he was holding a head. He stared at the head, then the body, then the body.
"Uhhh...." He stammered before helping Jason out of his confines and handed him the head.
"For you?" The guy said, as if he doesn't even know why he was handing a random guy someone's decapitated head.
Jason clutched the head to his chest like a maiden clutching flowers given to her. He ignored the blood staining his clothes bc the blood only made it all real.
His nightmare had finally come to an end, and Joker died a humiliating death. Even B couldn't blame him for the absolute accidental death.
"Marry me." He breathed out.
The response he got was a pretty red face and sputtering by the guy.
Happy New Years Everyone! Hope everyone is having fun!
AU where Danny and Damien are brothers and this is only discovered because Danny entered a Damian Wayne look alike contest while vacationing in Gotham.
His parents adopted him as a baby and kinda just forgot they did. They still love Danny of course but Dannyâs been with them so long they just forgot. Talia sent Danny away because he was a sickly baby with a weak heart. Danny grew out of the sickness as he got older and took some meds for his heart till the accident and then his heart didnât need full operating capacity to survive.
The Wayneâs were live streaming the contest and placing bets on who is going to win and since Damian is supposed in school they think he skipped and entered himself in contest. They donât know why Damian would do it and it doesnât help that when Danny wins and the judges are wondering who he is he cheekily answers âWell Iâm Damian Wayne of course.â
Eventually Damian gets home from school and the family is asking questions about the look alike contest he entered himself in and naturally âWhy would I enter myself in such ridiculous things.â and heads off to do whatever.
Cue a race to the computer to figure out who the kid that looks exactly like Damian is and they find out it was Danny wearing contacts (he probably just made his eyes glow green but he has to tell people he wore contacts) but the resemblance is very uncanny and they also discover Danny is adopted. So for safe measures they find out where heâs staying and kinda illegally collect some DNA samples from his hotel room while Danny is out.
The test results come back positive that Danny is directly related to Bruce and Damian. Damian is surprised as hell as it was stressed that he was the heir to the league and no one else. Bruce is at a point where sure itâs a surprise but heâs not surprised something like this would happen.
Danny in the meantime is ecstatic that he got $300 for turning his eyes green and standing on a stage. Heâs having the time of his life in Gotham with his $300 and suddenly Bruce Wayne is standing at his hotel room door and asking to do an official DNA test to see if theyâre related. Danny thinks heâs the legit son of Fentons but Bruce is very insistent and offered to buy him lunch no matter the results. Danny decides to do it because free lunch with Bruce Wayne. He heads back to the hotel room and his parents come back later than evening and Dannyâs like.
âHey the funniest thing happened. Bruce Wayne asked me to take a DNA test to confirm whether or not Iâm his biological son. Crazy right?â
And the Fenton parents âWait, oh shit. Funny story Danny, we adopted you as a baby so that might be an actual possibilityâ
âWait what???!!!??â And Danny spends the next 15 hours freaking out because thereâs an actual chance he might be the biological son of Bruce Wayne and Damian Wayneâs brother.
Test comes back with positive results of course and the Fentonâs are invited to have Dinner with the Wayneâs. As many siblings as possible try to find a way to justify their presence at the dinner to meet their new little brother.
Damian would have mixed feelings on finding out he has a blood brother. Itâs fantastic of course but it also riles up some old feelings about being the âblood sonâ. Heâs curious about his brother, his twin brother, but he canât help but feel threatened as his place as âblood sonâ This wouldâve take place when theyâre like 17 so itâs been at least 7 years since Damians been with Bruce so some of the league and inflated ego is gone but even if you unlearn somthing you can still find yourself falling back into bad habits.
Omg I love this!!
just imagining the dinner going! Trying not to be so awkward but how can it not when you have the eccentric Fentons and the Waynes.
Also like not only is Damian going through his own mixed feelings about having a twin but Danny is still wrapping his mind around that he is adopted and is son to THE Bruce Wayne! AND HE IS A FUCKING TWIN! Its a lot to take in. He feels like some zoo animal on display having so many eyes on him and yes they are definetly analyzing him. Hes squirming, uncomfortable and wants this evening to just end. Go back to what was his normal but nope! No can do! I can just see him excusing himself being done with dealing with Damianâs hostility. Also waaaaay to many questions he needs a breather.
as much as the concept of Jesus being a fairly normal lad has its charms, im personally very intrigued by the idea of him being just⌠extremely weird. not even in a mystical sense, justâŚâŚ.staggeringly BIZZARRE.Â
you go to the well to get some water, and hereâs Miriamâs boy, staring at the sky, completely still. his expression is unreadable. you hazard a hello and ask how heâs doing, and he slowly, unblinkingly, lowers his gaze on you (heâs 8 and is missing his frontal teeth, not that this is making you any less uncomfortable) and says âI cannot speak of the state of my being, Nathan son of Saul, my brother, but rejoice for the water you shall take today will be as pure as the soul of the children of Heavenâ
even funnier, the only person 100% on board with his Prophetic Kid Talk is his mother Miriam, an otherwise placid, absolutely normal woman around 25 or so
kid JC, coming home at twilight, a single white dove following him and chirping with weirdly human-like precision:
 mothĚŤĚer,ĚŚÍ ĚŽĚi hÍĚavÍĚ˝e ÍÍbĚĚrĚĚoĚŽÍu̲ĚghĚÍtĚşĚ you a doĚÍáš˝ÍeĚ˘Í ÍĚžmÍ͢aÍĚ˝dÄĚ áťĚf ÍĚcĚÍlÍĚaáťˇÍ aášĚd̳̿ g͢Íi̞̚ftedĚÍĄ ĚťÍit ÍÍwĚĚżitĚÍh tĚĽĚhÍÍe ̨Ěm̧ĚiĚĄĚĹÍâ̍cḡĚè̤ ĚĚťofĚĚ lĚĚiĚĚŚfè̳
Miriam: ! thatâs my little boy :) now letâs go get ready for dinner :)Â
her husband Yosef, a carpenter who only marginally got signed up for this:Â
God I know you have a sense of humor because otherwise thereâs no explanation for the platypus and I hope it extends to comics about baby cryptid Jesus
@bibooby Thank you so much for a Bowser request, I forgot how much I loved this big scaly brute. I hope this will suffice to scratch your Bowser itch. :]
Request: Anything with bowser/reader PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE okay more seriously maybe some situation where bowser gets in trouble/injured/sick and a reader had to deal with the aftermath of it... (bowser really really likes the reader who is somehow oblivious to it
--------------------------------------
For all of a second, the world outside your kitchen window brightens as a blinding flash of lightening streaks across the ebony sky, casting its portentous glow over your garden and the rain-slicked cobblestones that wind their way up to your front door.
Itâs the briefest snippet of time, where everything is lit up in an instance of monochrome, all black and white and grey like an old photograph, a vivid disparity to the glow that keeps you wrapped up inside your home, golden and warm and safe.
The dish youâve been scrubbing slips from your fingers and lands in the sink with a cacophonous din, splashing warm, sudsy water all over the front of your apron, though you hardly pay any mind to the noise, or the water, too preoccupied with gaping out through the storm that rages beyond the windowâs glass.
Because slumping up the stony path, towering over shrubs and dead-headed roses, is a monstrous figure, a silhouette of grey standing tall against the inky darkness of a tempest.
It moves like itâs hurt - slowly, drunkenly, stumbling forwards a pace or two before it manages to bring itself to a clumsy halt, then teeters sideways and starts the whole process over again on its sluggish journey towards your house.
In the next second, the shock leaks from your chest and youâre on the move, scrambling away from the sink and tossing the sponge aside as you go, hearing a wet thwap as it lands somewhere nearby. You make a mad dash for the hallway adjoining your kitchen, slippered feet skidding across the tiles as you charge around the corner and beeline straight for the front door.
Because you recognise that figure, even if only by the size alone.
You donât know a great many people who are quite as large as him after all. Though what heâd be doing out in a squall like this at quarter to eleven at night is far beyond the scope of your imagination.
Already, youâre planning a lecture. One thatâll have to come after youâve discovered why your impromptu visitor is moving like a lame dog.
Red flag number one.
Hardly pausing long enough to get a proper grip on the doorhandle, you twist it clumsily aside and shove.
Itâs hardly opened wider than a hairline crack before the howling wind sneaks in behind the wood and nearly yanks the door from your grasp, and you have little choice but to go with it, letting the weather snatch it open and tug you out onto the porch step beyond.
All at once, youâre being pelted by ice-cold lashes of rain that sting at your cheeks and whip into your eyes before you can raise an arm, attempting to shield your face as you holler above the howling maelstrom, âBowser!?â
The eerie mirror-shine of eyes appear in the darkness, catching the light that spills from your hallway and reflecting it back at you.
Then, your visitor takes another step forwards, bringing himself just within reach of the dim glow.
Suspicions confirmed, you release a sharp huff of air, and without considering your slippers or the puddles pooling steadily along your path, you hop right off the porch step and march towards the gargantuan koopa, driven more by worry than anything even close to irritation.
At the approach of your splashing footfalls, a massive, horned head lifts away from where heâd tucked it against his chest, and you donât miss how that small movement looks to have taken far more effort than it should have.
In the middle of a stride, you flick your gaze rapidly up and down, cataloguing everything from the way his meaty hands clutch at his elbows with a fervour, to how the tail poking out from beneath his shell curls inwards around his leg.
Then the rain is taking over your lashes again, and you have to shake your head to clear them as you reach your friendâs side and let out a shout that blasts droplets of water off your lips. âWhat the Hell are you doing here!?â
In hindsight, you suppose you could have worded it more gently.
Bowserâs almighty chest wheezes out a thin, rattling breath as he instinctively pushes his nose towards you, eyelids thick and heavy. Yet even still, his muzzle manages to lift into a weary smile just at the sight of you.
âSârry,â he wobbles out in a voice like churning gravel, blinking unevenly at the ground when you duck beneath one of his arms and hoist it across your shoulders, buckling under a metric ton of muscle, âDiânât⌠know whâre else tâgoâŚ.â
Red flag number two.
Far from the scaley power-house youâve known for half a decade, now heâs trembling like a sapling in a hurricane.
It frightens you.
What happened to him?
Grunting with effort, you hold your tongue until youâve cajoled him over the threshold and into the warmth of your home, stretching your leg backwards to kick the door shut behind you, at once muffling the noise of the storm that still rages on outside.
Then, and only then, do you finally offer your exasperated response. âHome!â you wheeze, manoeuvring the Koopa under the cramped doorframe into your living room and trying not to wince as chips of wood are scraped off by the spikes protruding from his shell, âYou could have gone home. To your castle! To Kamek!? Instead of traipsing your sorry hide all the way here in the middle of the night, in a thunderstorm, no less!â
If you knew how little attention heâs paying to your apparent anger, and how much attention heâs paying to the softness of your body pressing up against his solid, leathery side, youâd probably be even more miffed. And rightly so.
Still, he at least catches the gist of what youâd said. Heâd be a fool not to listen to your voice when you speak, even with a fever running rampant beneath his shell. It would be like plugging his ears to a beautiful aria.
âCanât,â he mumbles through rubbery lips, vaguely aware of the fireplace youâve stopped at, âSâcon-⌠contay-jusâŚâ
And thereâs red flag number three.
Well, less of a red flag and more a blaring claxon.
âContagious?â you parrot, extracting yourself from under Bowserâs arm and moving to stand below his chin, earning a reedy whine of protest from the King, âYouâre sick?â And without waiting for permission, you reach up and press the back of your hand first to his leathery cheek, then to his forehead, pursing your lips at the heat radiating off his scales and missing the flutter of his eyelids as he nudges forwards into the touch.
âStarsâŚâ you hiss, âYouâre hot.â
When his drooping features struggle to lift into a very self-satisfied grin, you cluck your tongue and amend, âYouâre running a fever, Shell-for-brains⌠And you say itâs infectious?â
Even in his addled state, he must have caught the frown that troubles your brows because heâs suddenly dipping his snout down to you and trying to whuff softly through fluttering nostrils.
âKoopas,â he croaks raggedly, halfway drunk on the bliss of your skin easing the heat out of his blistering face, âOnly fâr Koopas⌠Wouldnât⌠do that⌠tâyouâŚâ
As if you give half a damn about that, but his voice seems to wane with the last of his strength, and you barely have time to dart forwards, splaying your hands against the soft underside of his chest and giving him a solid shove until he sways upright again.
He blinks, flaming eyebrows crawling apart in something like surprise when he drops his nose and peers blearily down at the spot where your palms connect with his sternum, as if heâs mystified by the simple, steadying touch.
You, in the meantime, are a little distracted by the rainwater dripping steadily off his scutes, hair, and chin to form a slowly-growing puddle on your hearth.
âFor goodnessâ sake, youâre soaked right throughâŚâ Biting on your lip, you frown up at the very damp koopa shivering in front of you, and begin cobbling together the vaguest structure of a plan.
Right. You have a friend whoâs⌠undeniably ill in your home. With something that only affects koopas, apparently. Heâs quaking from the horns on his head to the tip of his tail. Heâs far hotter to the touch than is typical for him, this in spite of being outside in the icy rain for an indeterminable amount of time⌠You donât know all the ins and outs of koopa biology. But having one for a best friend has given you at least a little insight into the species.
And you donât need to be an expert to recognise the signs of a fever when you see them.
âOkay, stay put. Iâll be back in a second,â you tell him urgently, giving him another once-over to make sure heâs adequately stable before you draw your hands away and turn to make a dash for the staircase at the opposite end of the room, leaving Bowser to peer after you in a daze.
Wait⌠His expression crumples as you disappear around the corner.
Where are you going?
Of its own accord, one of the Kingâs legs carries him forwards, and he stumbles heavily onto it, gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut until the room around him stabilises once more. When he wrests his eyelids apart again, heâs standing at the foot of the staircase, his clawed hand crushing a finial that cracks and splinters under his grasp as he tries using it to haul his entire bodyweight up onto the first step, intent on following you.
Beneath the sluggish muddle of thoughts clomping around inside his skull, thereâs a tiny inkling of coherency thatâs berating him for showing weakness, for getting sick in the first place, for coming here â to your home â and letting you see him vulnerable and clumsy and as far from dignified as a king could possibly get. But that inkling is small, and lost easily under the tides of instinct and impulse, both of which were what led him here in the first place, seeking comfort in a familiar space with familiar smells and his most treasured friend who he knew would always open the door to let him in.
And now, youâre gone again, taking the majority of that comforting scent with you, and Bowserâs body is desperately attempting to track you down once more.
He slumps in palpable relief when you suddenly reappear at the top of the stairs like a vision descending from the heavens, with your arms engulfing a tower of blankets and towels that are stacked high to your chin.
âThought I told you to stay put,â you say without a lick of heat behind your words as you navigate the steps, peering around your stack at the Koopa gazing up at you from below.
He simply rumbles a hum in the affirmative, giving you an adoring look that you easily chalk up to the fever running its course and leaving his head in a daze.
As you meet him at the foot of the stairs, you spare the briefest grimace at your ruined finial before squeezing past Bowserâs immense bulk and bumping your shoulder against his elbow, guiding him to turn with you, back towards the inviting hearth.
Itâs easy enough to coax him after you, and you almost wish he was this biddable when heâs not running a fever. He seems inclined to follow you, at least, hovering a little too close as you dump your armful of blankets onto the floor and begin spreading them around, bunching some up and smoothing others out until youâve made a decent enough little bed for him in front of the hearth.
Evidently, he finds it more than suitable, trying to step into it with an approving thrum from deep in his chest.
âHold on, hold on!â you admonish him lightly, grabbing a towel from the mess and pushing yourself back to your feet, âLetâs dry you off a bit first. Then you can lay down.â
The Koopaâs shoulders sink as he snorts out a petulant huff, but all the same, he wavers obediently in place for you to start towelling him off, starting with what you can reach.
Your hands, comparatively tiny in just one of his own, scoop his palm up as you begin to gently glide the towel up and down the length of his hefty arm.
Something solid thuds on the ground behind him, a sound that you simply ignore⌠until it happens for a second time. And then a third.
You bring your ministrations to a brief pause, leaning sideways and glancing at the floor near Bowserâs feet, only for your brows to gradually creep back up your forehead when you make an⌠unexpected discovery.
In slow, sleepy motions, the Koopaâs yellow tail is lifting itself from the ground before slumping back down again, repetitively thumping at the carpet beneath him.
It seems youâve found the source of the strange noise.
âWow,â you observe, hesitantly returning to your task and sweeping the already-damp towel up the inside of his forearm, careful to brush lightly over his spiked wrist band, âYou really must be out of it.â Â
You donât think it needs to be said that heâs usually very controlled about wagging his tail.
Bowser just hums a distracted note in response and exhales hot air over the top of your head.
Worriedly, your chest bobs with a sigh as you hurry on to his next arm, stretching the towel up towards his shoulder before drawing it back down to his wrist and gathering water from the too-pale scales.
Thereâs a sudden, soft pressure on the crown of your head, and you flick your eyes up to find Bowser has pushed his snout into your hair, snuffling gently through his nose.
âFeelâsânice,â he slurs, as if thatâs explanation enough.
With a well-meaning roll of your eyes, you flip the towel over to its drier side and step back, stifling a tiny smile at how his head suddenly dips at the unexpected loss of his chin-rest.
âAll right, plop yourself down here,â you tell him, gesturing at the pile of blankets that are slowly gathering warmth by the fireside, âAnd Iâll dry your-â
A heavy âwhumph!â shakes the paintings hung on your walls as the King drops like a two-ton boulder onto his front, shoving a colossal lungful of air through his parted lips.
â⌠- hair,â you finish flatly.
Dull, doleful eyes turn up to peer at you, and one of Bowserâs hands untucks from his chest, creeping towards you and delicately curling around the back of your ankle, giving it a light tug.
Itâs a silent, entirely unsubtle request. One you oblige without much hesitation.
âOkay, okay,â you tell the impatient Koopa when he begins to paw at you in earnest, lowering yourself down in front of him on crossed legs and bending forwards to take one of his horns in each hand, âCâmon. Up here.â
Churring out a lazy rumble, Bowser allows you to guide his head into your lap with only a little effort on his part. He settles contentedly, his nose pressed to the soft roll of your belly, and his eyes slipping shut as he exhales a warm breath over the hem of your shirt.
Placing the towel between his horns, you begin to gently rub at his sopping-wet mane.
âSo,â you huff by way of conversation, âCan I ask you something?â
Bowserâs voice is low and rich, buzzing through you when he responds with a blissful, âAnythinââŚâ
For just a moment, the word gives you pause, but you eventually purse your lips and dismiss his excess sappiness as a symptom of his affliction. âWant to tell me why you thought it was a good idea â if youâre already sick â to walk all the way through a storm to get here? Youâll give yourself pneumonia if you arenât carefulâŚâ
As soon as you voice the possibility into existence, you bite down on the inside of your cheek and try to envision the contents of your medical cabinetâŚ
Bowser only grumbles a noise into your stomach whilst you card your fingers through his tousled strands, working water to their tips so they can be soaked up by the towel.
âHonestly,â you admonish after a minute of oppressive silence, unaccustomed to your larger-than-life friend being so still and quiet, âWhy you didnât just hole up in your room âtil the infection passes⌠or y'know, go to an actual healer, is beyond me.â Distractedly, you use your free hand to thumb at the furrow between his brows until the line softens. âNot that it isnât great to see you. And you know you're always welcome here-"
The Koopaâs mouth tilts up into a wan smile at that, at least until you add, â-but this wasnât one of your better ideas.â Not to mention that seeing him in this state has effectively frightened the life out of youâŚ
But saying as much out loud might be a little too familiar, even among friends, so you keep the admission tucked away behind your tongue, in safer waters.
Heaving out a very unapologetic grunt, Bowser burrows his snout even more firmly into your stomach and mutters, âWâs missinâ youâŚâ
Ah, well... So much for too familiar.
You resist the urge to blurt out a fond laugh, privately flattered that the great King of Koopas would admit to something so sentimental, feverish or not.
âItâs only been a few weeks since karaoke night,â you point out.
âLong enough,â he grumbles, rolling his weight forwards slightly and purring out, âNâyouâre safeâŚâ
You blink. It takes you a moment to realise heâs offering another excuse for his being here.
âSafe?â you echo, leaning over to reach down the back of his thick, muscular neck and drying the scales just beneath the lip of his cumbersome shell, âOf course Iâm safe. This isnât exactly a dangerous place to live.â
Due in no small part to Bowser making sure of the fact before he even allowed you to step foot on the island, let alone build yourself a home out here. It took you months to reassure the nearby village of Toads that, no, Bowser would not be burning their homes to ash if they so much as looked at you the wrong way. Took even longer to get the Koopa himself to promise you he wouldnât.
Did he really drag himself out here in a thunderstorm to check that youâre safe? When a simple letter would have sufficed?
Idiot⌠Â
An idiot whoâs loyal to his friends though, youâll give him that.
But in your lap, Bowser is quick to roll his head gingerly from side to side and lets out a contradicting huff in response.
Apparently, youâve misunderstood something.
ââŚTrust ya,â he presses insistently, peeling apart his crust-coated eyelids to gaze up at your downturned face, âYer safeâŚ. Kamek knows⌠Jânr knowsâŚ. Yâr safe⌠One ofâusâŚâ
One of-âŚ.
And suddenly, it clicks.
The hand youâd been smoothing over the top of his skull goes very still.
⌠Oh.
Swallowing thickly, you meet his eye, and though the fire is dimmed by fever, his typical sincerity is still there, blazing away behind a glassy sheen.
It makes⌠sense? You suppose.
Heâs sick. And although heâd rather die than admit it, heâs vulnerable. He left the fortress to protect his fellow koopas, and came to the only place he could think of where he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that heâd be safeâŚ
He came to youâŚ
You're safe...
Itâs a humbling thing to realise.
Absently, you sweep a thumb up and down his temple, pulled from your thoughts when you register the heat pulsing there.
Right⌠Not out of the woods just yet.
Heaving a sigh, you drop the towel and scoot backwards, sliding Bowserâs chin from your legs, much to his chagrin.
âAll right, stay here,â you tell him, rising to your feet and stepping deftly over the paw that tries to recapture your ankle, âIâll be in kitchen. If I have it my way, youâll be sweating this fever out tonight. And youâre gonna need to keep your fluids up when you do⌠And try to stay put this time!â
Bowser tries to say something, but his eyelids fall shut, and when he finds the strength to pry them open again, youâre sliding down in front of him once more, setting a glass of water on the floor behind you and pressing something under his nose that immediately overwhelms his nostrils with the potent scent of boiled ginger.
Tea⌠he registers dimly, inhaling an enormous swathe of gingery steam into his train-carriage chest. Youâve made him teaâŚ
Not for the first time, he wonders if now would be the right moment to finally ask for your hand in marriageâŚ. Oh, but he left the ring in his bedroom⌠Damn.
âHhh. Love you,â he urgently rasps instead, the words getting lost around the rim of the cup as you tip it forwards, letting him take a tiny sip that immediately tingles in his throat, âLove you⌠sâmuchâŚâ
âYeah, I love you too, Big guy,â you tell him innocently, drawing the cup away and laying a cold, damp cloth across his forehead to draw the fever out. He shudders at its presence, but then he settles, blinking with a scrunch of his eyes for a few seconds before drowsily gaping up at you, his pupils blown wide in apparent wonder.
âYâmean it?â he whispers hoarsely.
Quirking your lips at him, you hedge, âOf course?â
You donât expect the vast Koopa to so suddenly peel his head from the blankets, shove himself forwards and drop his chin heavily into your lap once more, grunting like it had taken all of his remaining strength to do so. His eyes are squeezed shut, and the blankets behind him rustle as his tail swishes from side to side across the fabric. âOh, thaâs⌠good,â he gushes reverently through an exhale, like youâve just told him the greatest news of his life, a trembling smile pushing at his pallid cheeks, âBeen so worried⌠âbout tellinâ yaâŚâ
Bemused - and confused - you angle your head to one side and squint down at him, a small, awkward smile tugging at the corner of your lips. âIâm⌠sorry?â
âNotâchâyer fault,â comes his weary reply. He sounds seconds away from falling into a dead sleep. âDiânât wanna scare yaâŚâ
âBowser? I think youâre delirious, youâre not making any-â
âYâre best thingâsâever happunâd tâmeâŚâ
â⌠Now Iâm sure thatâs not true,â you try to dismiss, reapplying the cold cloth and daubing gently at his temples.
âLove you,â he repeats stubbornly, with startling resolve. And as if it wasnât getting hard enough to refute his conviction⌠âLoved you sânce thâday I saw yaâŚâ
⌠AhâŚ
âIs⌠is that right?â you swallow a little breathlessly, staring into the flames dancing and twisting behind his shell as if youâre trapped in a mystified daze.
You feel him give a pathetic nod, then the resonance of his hum pitches through your stomach like a roll of thunder. âMhmâŚâ
Oh, BowserâŚ
He starts to say something else, but you hush him softly, pressing the cloth over each of his eyes and wiping the crust away with gentle motions. "You need to sleep," you whisper through a tight throat, "You'll feel more like yourself in the morning..."
You're curious to know if he'll remember what he's just said to you... If he'll think it bears repeating....
In your heart of hearts, you really hope he does.
"I... c'n stay?"
Like he even needs to ask...
Heart wedged uncomfortably in your neck, you lean down, and after settling the flutter of nerves that pulses against your sternum, you finally lay the ghost of a kiss to the very tip of his snout.
At the feather-light touch, his entire body jolts from the force of a sudden rumbling purr thatâs kicked out of his chest.
Youâre⌠not so certain that this is all just the fever talking anymore.
Danny is in Gotham (yes, that Gotham, different universe, long story) to finish his education before moving on with his lifeâor afterlifeâand eventually ascending to High King status. Itâs a good reveal AU. He still has his parents. He still has his friends. Clockwork just strongly suggested that if he wanted to rule the Infinite Realms one day, maybe he should get some cross-dimensional academic experience first.
So now heâs here.
The problem? Everyone is rich. Not âmy dad owns a companyâ rich. More like âwe have generational trauma and private islandsâ rich. Danny tries being friendly. Smiles. Makes conversation. Offers help with homework. It does absolutely nothing. These people only care about connections.
Which would be funnyâif it werenât so isolatingâbecause they have no idea he is, objectively, the single most powerful networking opportunity in the multiverse.
So yeah. Heâs a little lonely.
Enter Damian.
One of Damianâs brothers (who will not be named but absolutely thinks heâs hilarious) jokes that Damian has never had a normal civilian friendship in his life. That if he had to, he wouldnât even know where to start. He offhandedly gestures at Danny like, there, that one looks harmless.
Itâs a joke.
Unfortunately, Damian takes it as a challenge.
Not because Danny is a âtarget.â He isnât. Damian just fully decides he will prove he can form a normal, healthy, civilian friendship. Out of spite.
There are misunderstandings, but somehow, despite everything, they start⌠getting along.
And Damian, internally victorious, decides to present Danny to his family as evidence that he can, in fact, maintain a normal friendship.
Danny is delightful.
He charms Alfred. He debates with Tim. He listens to Bruce. He somehow gets Jason to laugh. He and Dick vibe immediately. He treats Damian like an equal without even trying.
For months, the consensus is clear:
Danny is the only normal person at this table.
And then they find his admission essay.
Titled:
âWhy Clowns Are Not to Be Given Human Rights.â
I have brought offerings for you :] @asleep-in-the-keep-sideblog
Thank you for writing one of my fav dp/mha fics
(Spoilers ahead)
Midoriya and Danny:
I only noticed after finishing the line art that I changed the brush I was using halfway through lol, they have similar names (â ´â  â .â  â .ĚŤâ  â .â  â `â )
(I can't make things better for you, author, but I hope I can make you laugh. Take care, hugs from Brazil)
I was laughing at this so hard but now Iâm crying reading the end! đ
Thank you so much! This is exactly what I needed. The art is fantastic and hilarious! Aizawa holding Danny as he claws him is definitelyďżź my favorite! (Thatâs legit what happened!! đ)! Theyâre all so funny!
Hold my appointments, I will be staring at this for the next several days, thank you. And truly thank you so much for the message at the end. I feel so sappy for saying this cause I donât know you, but I feel like I do. With every comment I learn about you and now this.
You have gone above and beyond for me with the only intention of making me feel better. Thank you đĽšđ
Edit: I JUST NOTICED THE COOKIES ARE ON THE TABLE!!!!
Bruce has been pressured by Dick and Tim to try and put himself out there romantically. After multiple failed attempts, he wants to give up, but he meets a certain forensic investigator who changes his mind.
W/C: 6.8k
Tags/Warnings: reader doesn't show up til well into the story so sorry about that! slight ooc but I tried to not let it be too much, fluff!, slow burn ish, insecurities about dating (bruce), incorrect forensic science info, bruce is also like early 40s in this and reader is late 30s (trust that's important to note), lmk if I forgot anything!
Notes: finally finished this!!!! I got back into my sims 4 phase + my dance practice schedule started to ramp up so ive been neglecting my writing </3 dividers by @cafekitsune
âHonestly, I get kind of sad looking at you,â Dick mentions offhandedly during one of the rare shared rides in the Batmobile. Through the carâs intensely tinted windows, the Gotham night lights faintly illuminating Dickâs face.Â
 Bruce simply scoffs, his eyes stay put on the road. Dick begins to hum to himself, ignoring Bruceâs silence.Â
He taps his fingers on the car door to the tune of whatever generic pop song is stuck in his head, which begins to annoy Bruce.Â
He states his name in a warning tone, âDick. Stop.â Dick heaves out a heavy, dramatic sigh.Â
âI donât mean it in a bad way. Youâre you! Thatâs great! We all need to be ourselves!â Dick turns towards Bruce, who, despite only the bottom half of his face showing, looks visibly annoyed.Â
He continues speaking, ignoring Bruceâs annoyance, âButâŚmaybeâŚyou should be putting yourself out there moreâŚâ His voice drifts off at the end as he looks off into the distance.Â
Bruce just sighs as he continues focusing on the road.Â
Dick looks back over at him, but only for a quick second before snapping his head back towards the car window.
 He opens his mouth to add on, but Bruce stops him, âIâm fine. You shouldnât worry about me. That wonât help you.â
Dick sighs but ultimately lets go of it.
At least openly.Â
Dick: Bruce is sad and I canât take it so we need to find him at the very least, a hook up
bbldrizzy: ew
Dick: Tim please, youâve seen him
I didnât know it was possible to be that lonely
bbldrizzy: he has us
kind of
Dick: Yeah, okayâŚâŚ.
Dick looks back over at Bruce, trying to gauge anything out of him. He knows Bruce isnât good at relationships, but thatâs never stopped anyone.Â
Dick and Tim sit side by side in Bruceâs main office. Damian sits in the cornerâ there solely to make fun of the two of them. Tim stares intently at the laptop screen as Dick flips through miscellaneous newspaper articles.Â
From his lax position on a chair in the corner, Damian quips, âYou two are worrying too much over this. Father will be fine. Heâs not a good boyfriend, oh well.â
Dick rolls his eyes and speaks to Damian from over his shoulder, âHe could be, heâs just like scared or something. We just need the right person.â Damian nods slowly and just resorts to his book.Â
Tim perks up, âWhat about her? She owns some huge law firm thing, he would like that, right?â Dick scoots over to him and inspects the screen in front of him.Â
A page about a woman, Julianne Watts, is pulled up on the screen. Sheâs well accomplished and has her own non-profit organization; Bruce would definitely have at least a good conversation.Â
Dick slowly nods his head, and a smirk begins to appear on his face. He turns to Tim, who has a similar look on his face.Â
âGood job, Drake. Good work⌠but I dunno, I think my candidate is better.âÂ
Tim scoffs at this and shoves his shoulder, âYou asshole, whoâd you find?â
Dick leans over to grab a news article he found. Tim grabs it out of his hand and holds it out in front of him. He reads it out loud:
âNaomi Evergreen,â Tim interrupts himself, âanother lawyer, real original.â Dick rolls his eyes, and Tim continues, âShe works with troubled youth in Bludhaven.âÂ
Tim looks over at Dick with an annoyed look, âDick, thatâs boring.â
Dick lets out an offended noise, âItâs similar to yours! Okay, here.â He turns towards Damian.Â
Damian immediately responds, âNope.â
âOkay, no. You need to choose. For a first date, which one should he go with?â Dick motions to the two articles.Â
Damian rolls his eyes, âYouâre talking about them like theyâre objects.â
Dick and Tim go silent at this.Â
They look at each other, then towards Damian.Â
Dick speaks up, âIf you choose mine, then Iâll take you to the animal shelter.â
Bruce stands in front of a full-length mirror with Dick by his side. âThis is stupid. How does she even know me?â He turns towards Dick, who is pretending to help him freshen up.Â
âShe runs some like a non-profit and wants your approval on it âcause thatâll boost it! You love doing good things like that!â He brushes the imaginary specks of dust off of Bruceâs shoulders, âPlus, itâll make you look good!â
Bruce raises his brow, âSo Iâm doing this for publicity? I donât know, DickâŚâ
Dick panics for a second, âNo! Itâs fine! Youâll be fine! Itâll be fun, I promise.â He stands next to Bruce and clasps his hands together, a big (forced) smile on his face, âBatman can do anything! Right?â
Itâs hard to have a good date when your young adult sons are pretending to be bartenders and keep awkwardly staring at you.Â
Itâs also hard to have a good date when you didnât even know it was a date to begin with.Â
Bruce liked Naomi; he liked her smile, the way her passion bled through her words, and how she genuinely seemed like someone who wanted better for Bludhaven.Â
The only problem neither Dick nor Tim realized: She was nearly 20 years younger than him.Â
Dick must have skipped the part that mentioned she had graduated from high school early and was one of the youngest students in Gotham to be admitted into their law school.
Not his fault!
You canât be a great detective all the time!
Bruce didnât seem to mind; to be fair, he wasnât even aware this was supposed to be a date.Â
His voice comes out in a practiced smoothness when he compliments her, âI admire your ambition. My son is similar to you; youâve probably seen. I could set you up with him for a meeting. Iâm sure heâd love to discuss these topics.â
Naomi blushed slightly before letting out an embarrassed laugh, âOh, Iâm not sure. Heâs the one who put me on this date with you. I feel it would be awkward to go to him now.â
Bruceâs eyebrow shoots up, âHe what?âÂ
He looks over and spots a bartender who looks eerily similar to Dick standing next to another bartender who, frankly, looks too young to even be behind that counter.Â
Bruce exhales a small laugh and shakes his head, âMy son is definitely someone to do that. You said he set this up as a date?â
Naomiâs embarrassment skyrockets, âIâm sorry! I thought you knew! He had reached out to me, stating Bruce Wayne wanted to meet and discuss my plans over dinner! Then he added that youâor heâsaid it was a date!â
Bruce nods slowly and turns his head back towards the counter where, mysteriously, the two men (boys) had disappeared.Â
He apologizes to Naomi and reiterates that he does genuinely see potential in her, and he would love to have a real meeting about her plans.Â
She leaves, but not before nearly fangirling over Bruce giving her a small peck on the back of her hand.Â
âYâknow, I told her that she should probably try to get a date with you. Sheâs closer to your age anyway.â Bruce states in a teasing tone.Â
Dick and Tim are sitting on the couch in the library, both are overly embarrassed about what happened. Dick sits with his hands covering his eyes, and Timâs face is fully planted into one of the throw pillows.Â
âSo whyâd you do that?â He grabs a chair and drags it over to be seated in front of them. It almost looks as if heâs interrogating him, which isnât far from reality.
âIâm honestly asking; why did you set me up on a date with a girl whoâs younger than you?â He points at Dick, who is now slowly dragging his hands down his face.Â
The two boys look up at him, their faces a mixture of fear and curiosity.Â
Bruce takes a deep breath before laughing, âYou two are something else, you know that?â The two boys smile at his positive reaction, but theyâre quickly cut off by his next sentence.Â
âYouâre both grounded for two weeks.â He looks at Tim, âNo video games,â then at both of them, âand only supervised patrols.â
They both shoot up, but Bruce has already begun to make his way towards the door to the library.
They both protest over one another.Â
âSupervised patrols?! I donât even live here!â
âYou canât take away my video games, you tried, and last time it didnât work!â
Bruce simply tunes them out as he leaves.Â
They both stand there in shock, but Dick quickly composes himself and thinks of a plan.Â
âOkay, okay, fine.â He begins to pace back and forth. âSure, weâre grounded. You more than me.â
âHey!â Tim lets out in offense.Â
âBut Iâm not giving up.â He stands in front of Tim, âWhat if we gave him an ultimatum?â
Dick and Tim stand behind Bruceâs monitor with their hands outstretched, literally.Â
Tim sighs dramatically, âBruce, you literally donât get it.â
Without looking away from the screen, Bruce answers, âYouâre right, I donât, because itâs not a big deal.â
He pushes away from the desk to look them both in the eyes, âI understand why you boys are doing this, I really do, but Iâm fine. I told you, worrying about me wonât make you better.â
Dick groans, âIf not for you, then for us! We need entertainment! When I come and visit, I want to hear exciting things, not that Tim failed a math test that he cheated on.â
Timâs face appears offended, but he quickly changes topics, âJust hear us out. Weâre grounded for the next two weeks, cool, whatever. How about, during that time, if we can find you a true date that you at least go on a second date with, you canât ground us for the next three months.â
Bruceâs eyes retreat to his monitor, and the room is silent for a moment besides the tapping on his keyboard.Â
âWhatâs in it for me?â
Dick smirks, âA date, duh! AndâŚâ
He looks at Tim, who has no clue what heâs thinking.Â
âIâll get Jay to come over for dinner. Willingly.â
Jayemi Crawford was among the many socialites that Bruce had been surrounded by his entire life. He never liked her and her familyâs gouache displays of wealth (and thatâs coming from him).
The Crawford family had an unconventional rise to fame, but once they got a taste, they never looked back. Her mother was a world-renowned supermodel, and her father was a highly respectable journalist.
Bruce wonders where it all went wrong with her.
They sit across from each other over a meal that costs triple the waitersâ salaries combined and then some. Jayemi had been non-stop talking aboutâŚsomething. Bruce wasnât too sure.Â
âOkay, so, yeah, so okay. Itâs not my fault that Dad basically told everyone that he was going bankrupt! Just because Iâm 32 years old does not mean that I have to stop interacting with gossip articles!â
Bruce just hums, disengaged.Â
Completely oblivious to this, she continues.Â
He doesnât mean to be rude; he really doesnât. But he couldn't care less about the drama that goes on around Gotham. He sees enough of the bad side; he doesnât need to know about the annoying side.Â
For the first date, he let Dick and Tim send him on a wild card.Â
Looking at it now, heâd prefer going on a date with Clark.Â
When his brain comes back to Earth, he realizes sheâs still on the same topic. Something about her family going bankrupt, but sheâs not?
âThat sounds like a difficult situation, Jayemi.â He delivers in a monotonous tone.Â
âI know, right? Those assholes! Anyways, Iâm probably boring you, arenât I?â She looks up at him through her lashes.Â
He hides his grimace and offers a small, simple (fake) smile, âNot at all. Howâs your meal?â
She smiles brightly, âSooo good.â She bites her lip before speaking; her eyes now have a certain sparkle in them.Â
âDo you know another meal that would taste so good?â
Dick and Tim scream-laugh at Bruceâs retelling of the date. Bruce sits in the chair, visibly embarrassed, but also slightly amused by their reactions.Â
Bruce grumbles out, âItâs not that funny.âÂ
Dick wipes the tears from his eyes, âOh, trust me, big guy, itâs funny.â He continues giggling through his next sentence, âAt least you have the wild card out of the way!â
Bruce rolls his eyes, âYeah, and now I have James Crawford calling me and asking me if Iâm going to marry his daughter.â
The two laugh harder at this, and Tim nearly falls off the couch.Â
Bruce shakes his head, and if you look close enough, you can see the faintest smile.Â
He sighs heavily, âSo, what now? I have tabloids talking about the date, and I really donât want to be known for that for the next two weeks.â
Tim and Dick take deep breaths to calm their breathing and look at each other for guidance.Â
Without saying a word, Dick crosses the room to the computer and pulls up a local politicianâs portfolio.Â
Bruce hovers over his shoulder and reads the profile carefully.Â
âShe sounds intelligent.â His sentence drifts off.Â
Before any of them can confirm a date, Alfred enters the room with news for Bruce.Â
âMaster Bruce, you are needed at Gothamâs Forensic Center. A case came in that theyâre unsure of.â
Tim perks up, âIs Robin needed?â
Bruce begins to answer, but is cut off by Alfred, âThey need all the help they can get. Bring Master Dick along as well.â
Dick and Tim smile at each other, while Bruce groans.
Bruce shows up with Tim and Dick, who are overly excited just to see gory body parts.
Secretly, they knew why Alfred had made them come with him: to meet the new forensic investigator. Someone Bruce hadnât met yet, but trust, she was on the boyâs radar.Â
The head investigator walks up to the three of them, âBatman,â he turns to Dick and Tim, âNightwing, Robin.â They all nod back at him.Â
âI asked for your assistance on this because Iâm not sure this is even human.â
Bruce looks at Dick and Tim with a questioning look, which they reciprocate. Bruce steps up in front of the two, âShow it to me.â
The investigator leads him through the halls to a lab, occupied by only one other investigator.
When Bruce steps into the room, his eyes immediately lock on her figure.Â
She sits at a desk with her tongue slightly poking out due to intense concentration. She goes back and forth between staring at the specimen and typing on the computer.Â
The multitaskingâŚ
The concentrationâŚ
Her eyesâŚ
âHello? Batman?â
She snaps her fingers in front of his face, which causes Dick and Tim to try to suppress their snickers.Â
Bruce clears his throat, but she introduces herself before he can answer, âIâve been told that you would have some intel on what thisâŚthing could possibly be.â
She guides the three of them over to her desk and directs Bruce to look through the microscope. The room falls into a comfortable silence as Bruce takes his time.
In the midst of Bruceâs short investigation, Tim sparks up a conversation, âSo, how old are you?â
Her eyebrows crease in confusion, and Dick snaps his head towards him.Â
Dick speaks before Tim can explain himself, âIâm sorry.â He grips Timâs shoulder, tightening his hand with every word, âWhat he meant to ask was how long have you been in this for?â
Tim pushes Dickâs hand off of his shoulder, mouthing: âOw, asshole.â
She breathes a laugh out of her nose, âItâs fine, itâs been about 15 years now. I was a PI at first, but I was always interested in the hands-on side, one could say.âÂ
She leans over Bruceâs shoulder, âI guess Iâm not the only one who finds it interesting.â
Bruce backs off from the microscope and looks at her, âComes with the job; Youâre right, this is weird.â He picks up the petri dish and slowly turns it, âWould you mind if I took a sample to do my own prodding?â
She smirks, âYou think I canât do it on my own?â
Bruce tries to answer quickly, but she just laughs.Â
She says through light laughter, âIâm kidding, Bats. Let me see if I can get you clearance.âÂ
She reaches into her bag and pulls out a card. She holds it in between her fingers, and Bruce reaches out for it. He inspects it closely and realizes itâs her business card.Â
He appreciates the details of the card. The paper was nice and sturdy, with gold lettering adorning the cream color. Only someone serious about their profession would have a business card this nice.Â
Or at least, thatâs what Bruce told himself.Â
Because itâs not weird to get lost in how detailed someoneâs business card is.
âIt has my number if you want to meet to discuss the contents of the subject. Is that okay?â
He looks up at her and clears his throat, âYes, thank you. Iâll be keeping in contact.â
He reaches his hand out for a handshake, although itâs more awkward than he meant. She just laughs at his sudden awkwardness and shakes his hand.Â
She speaks, still holding onto his hand, âThank you. Itâs honestly an honor to work with a detective as great as you.â
Dick and Timâs eyebrows shoot up, and they look at each other, then back at the interaction.Â
Bruce continues slowly shaking her hand and simply nods at her words.Â
He lets go and lets out a low âLetâs goâ towards Dick and Tim.Â
As they enter the Batmobile, Bruceâs phone rings, and he reads the contact name:
Tory Banks
He says quietly to himself, âShit, I forgot about that.â
Bruce sits at a table by himself, the candlelight offering a soft glow to his face. He thought he was going to be late, so he got there a little too early.
Tory didnât seem to mind when she arrived. Her voice comes out low yet still bright, âI shouldâve expected Mr. Bruce Wayne to be early to our date.âÂ
He breathes out a laugh and goes to give her a modest hug, âI wouldnât miss this for the world. Please, sit.â
He pulls out her seat and guides her. He sits across from her, and a faint smile naturally appears on his face. He has hope for this date.
The night starts incredibly; she genuinely amuses Bruce, and heâs relieved he can actually relate to her problems. His smile grows slightly, and he lets out modest laughs now and then.Â
She leans closer to him over the table, âSo, tell me. Why is Bruce Wayne on a date with me? I admire your work, but why me?â This causes Bruce to sit up straight, and his face shifts into a contemplative expression
He slowly speaks, âIâŚMy sons want me to put myself out there. I begrudgingly agreed with them.â She laughs.
âI know how it is, my sons will try to convince me to do anything. My youngest convinced me to unground them, and I didnât even realize it!â Bruce earnestly laughs as she throws her hands up in defeat.Â
Bruce adds, âI just grounded them for something stupid, and the younger one already found where I put his game console thing.â He sighs heavily, âTo be fair, he did warn me.âÂ
They both laugh together, and Tory sighs, âItâs nice to go on a date with someone who can relate to what Iâm going through.â
Bruce nods slowly, and his mind begins to work faster than his emotions can keep up with.Â
âRelate to what Iâm going through.â
Itâs in that moment when Bruce remembers that a big aspect of her mayoral campaign is to reveal Batman and his intentions.
Sheâs a wonderful woman, and he hasnât had a conversation like this in who knows how long. But he canât date someone like her.Â
She canât relate to him, and if she found out, she would hate him. She canât run for mayor while also knowing heâs Batman. He doubts she would change her mind for him.Â
Though he knows deep down that isnât the only reason.Â
He canât help but think of the investigator he met earlier that day.Â
There was something about her.
âBruce?â
Heâs knocked out of his thoughts when her hand reaches for his. He looks down to see her soft hand lying on top of his calloused one.
He states softly, âIâm sorry, my mind wandered.âÂ
She just smiles softly, âItâs alright.âÂ
She thinks for a moment, âCan I ask you something?â
Bruce nods, and she sits up, âIf we go further with this,â She motions in between the two of them, âdo you think you could help me figure out who Batman is?â Bruce is caught off guard by her question.Â
She continues, âI know thereâs been rumors of you knowing who he is or even being him.â She laughs at that, âBut, I mean, with your resources, I think we really could track him down.â
Her smile remains on her face as Bruceâs slowly fades from his face. Bruce thinks for a moment before answering. He tries to think of an appropriate response.Â
He lowly states, âI think that should be the least of your worries. Batman helps with the crime in Gotham and remains an inspiration for those who feel alone. I feel to try and get rid of him would be you announcing how you view those âlesser thanâ in Gotham.â
Itâs her turn to be caught off guard. Her eyebrows rise, and her tone rises, âOh, well⌠Thatâs not what I expected.â She laughs in disbelief.Â
Bruce clears his throat and raises his hand to call over the waiter. He turns back to her, âI appreciate this date, but I donât think this is going to work out.â
Tim stands with his arms crossed behind Bruce, whoâs sulking at the computer. Bruce wonât show it openly, but he is disappointed the date went south so quickly.Â
Dick stands next to Bruce; he notices his solemn attitude, but doesnât mention it. Tim leans on Bruceâs chair, âI mean, itâs okay, big guy. You canât win everyone over.â
Bruce huffs.Â
Footsteps echo through the cave, and Dick and Tim turn to see Alfred approaching them. He nods at the two boys and goes to stand next to Bruce, âMaster Bruce, I know youâre busy sulking, but thereâs a call for you. I donât know how you didnât notice it.â
Bruce turns his head and notices his phone buzzing. He looks at Alfred, whoâs smirking, then reaches for the phone.Â
Alfred looks over at the boys who are looking at each other, smiling. Dick turns to look at Alfred and mouths, âIs it that girl?â
Alfred simply nods.Â
Bruce answers the call in a gruff tone, âHello?â
A bright, recognizable voice speaks, âHey, Mr. Wayne! Iâm Y/N, a Forensic Investigator down at Gothamâs Forensic Center.â She laughs lightly, âI know this is so random, but I received an anonymous tip that you had found out what the subject is?â He can hear her clicking her pen in the background.
Bruce straightens his back, âYes, I-â
His hand snaps to Alfred and glares at him.Â
Alfred simply shrugs and leaves.Â
Dick and Tim smirk at this, and Bruce snaps his head towards them. They take the hint and follow Alfred out.Â
He gets up from his chair and begins to pace. He speaks while walking across the platform, âNo, youâre fine. I had a friend of mine look at it, and itâs definitely not from our world. Its chemical structure is nothing like what weâve seen on Earth, but the good news is that it doesnât look harmful.â
He hears her sigh from over the phone, âThatâs good. I was worried about how I was going to explain to my boss that we have a violent alien bug thing on our hands.âÂ
He breathes out a laugh, âWell, you donât need to worry now. If youâd like, you can come by this evening so I can show you the file Iâve created for it.â
She giggles lightly, âYouâre so much more organized than me. Thatâs probably why youâre a CEO billionaire, and Iâm a rookie Forensic Scientist Detective thing.â
She can hear his faint smile through his words, âTrust me, you do more than you realize.â
She stands outside Wayne Manor, the strong wooden doors looming over her. She goes to knock on the door, but they open before her fist meets the wood.
Alfred stands in the doorway and angles his body to invite her in, âWelcome. Master Bruce should be with you shortly.â She thanks him, and he speaks lowly to her, a smirk present on his face, âI must warn you, for whatever reason, heâs a nervous wreck.â
She laughs as Alfred smiles at her, then walks off.
Bruce appears shortly after. Heâs dressed in a casual long-sleeve button-up and slacks. Thereâs not a hair out of place, but his sweaty hands betray him by revealing his nervousness.Â
He extends his hand to her, and she takes it (without mentioning his sweaty palms).
Her sweet voice is a contrast to the dark interior of the manor. âItâs incredible to meet you, Mr. Wayne. I didnât know you worked with Batman, so thisâll probably make this easier. Itâs hard to work with someone who only works past 6 p.m.â
She laughs, and he shakes his head, âIt definitely must be a little annoying.â
He motions for her to follow him, and he continues speaking. âI mentioned on the phone, but the subject appears to be bacteria from a foreign planet. The best comparison my colleague could make was that itâs similar to a cold virus here.â
Her eyes grow wide, âBut I thought you said it wasnât harmless? I donât want to start an alien pandemic!â
He shakes his head and pushes a door open, âDonât worry, he tested it and found that it dies almost immediately when met with our immune system.â
They walk into his office, and thereâs a file pulled up on his monitor. She stares at it in awe, âWow, you really went all in on this.â
He smirks, âI wasnât gonna let you do this on your own. You have to make a good first impression, right?â
She looks at him and nods slowly, âYeah, totally.â
Her gaze turns to admire the room sheâs in; itâs way nicer than her home office. She admires the intricate wood designs and the bookshelves that have to be as old as the manor.Â
âItâs so beautiful in here, and this is just the office.â
He turns around and smiles at her admiration.
He moves to stand next to her. He reaches out and grabs a book covered in dust, âIt was my fatherâs office. I use it for my big cases and such.â
She giggles, âSo you have other offices you use for your other Wayne duties?âÂ
He smiles softly, âIâm organized.â
She laughs and looks at the book in his hands. In white lettering, it reads: A Farewell to Arms.Â
She lets out a soft gasp, âOh wowâŚâ
She reaches out, âMay I?âÂ
He nods and hands it to her, their hands brushing.
She holds it as if itâs a newborn, âThis is my favorite bookâŚâ She speaks in a hushed tone, âI remember reading it in high school, and I was pleasantly shocked when I truly enjoyed it.â
He smiles tenderly at her reaction.
She gently flips through the pages and provides Bruce with her commentary.
Bruce falls into a comfortable silence, occasionally offering a short hum to her commentary.
He could live like this.
He wouldnât mind going on a-
âOkay! We found a date that you will not be disappointed with!â
They both snap their heads to Dick and Tim, suddenly barging in as if they own the place.Â
The boys stop when they notice the moment they just walked into. Dick apologetically looks at the two of them, âSorry, B. Didnât mean to uhâŚinterrupt.â
Bruce rolls his eyes, âItâs fine, we were just wrapping up.âÂ
Tim snickers and says to himself, âHeh, wrapping up.â
Dick looks at him unimpressed, but continues speaking, âWell, if youâre curious, we just got another date for you. What! Isnât that like awesome?â
He walks over to Bruce and wraps his arm around his shoulder, âArenât we the best sons you couldâve asked for?â Bruce grumbles, but from his other side, he hears his newfound crush giggling at Dickâs antics.Â
She hands the book back to Bruce, a teasing smirk evident on her face, âWell, you better get ready for your big date, Mr. Wayne.âÂ
She turns to leave, but then turns back towards Bruce, âThank you for your help, genuinely. I thought I was a lost cause with this.â
Dick and Tim told him this one was going to be good.
He doesnât know why this is when he finally listens to them.
Itâs been about 15 minutes, and neither has said a word. She sits across from him with her nose to her phone. Bruce doesnât know if sheâs avoiding him or just doing work.Â
He clears his throat, âUhmâŚSo, I saw your organization is in the south helping families recover from hurricane season. Thatâs admirable.â
Without looking up, she offers a curt, âThank you.â
He nods slowly and surveys the surrounding area. He notices other couples laughing and talking.Â
He watches one specific table; thereâs a lady who looks somewhat like his new infatuation, and the man looks like a (mentally) healthier version of him.Â
A faint smile forms on his lips as he continues to gaze at them.Â
He doesnât mean to, but he imagines what life would be like with her. Itâs rude to fantasize about another woman while heâs on a date, but heâs not even sure this woman has looked him in the eye yet.
The womanâs head falls back slightly at the man's joke. Bruce wonders if she would laugh that hard at his jokes. He has an unorthodox sense of humor, but he doesnât think sheâd mind.Â
He hasnât seen her long enough to gauge her sense of humor, but he feels she would at least brighten his mood. Thatâs all he could ask for.Â
âExcuse me, Mr. Wayne?â
His head snaps back to see her, an unimpressed look on her face. âLook, Bruce, I also didnât want to be here, but at least tell me instead of oggling at other women.â
His eyes widen, and he clears his throat, âIâm sorry, Dr. Cameron. I didnât mean for it to come off like that at all. But, if we both donât want to be here, thenâŚâ
His sentence trails off as she rolls her eyes, âIs there someone else on your mind?â
He sighs, and she takes that as her answer.Â
She gets up from her seat, and he follows suit.Â
She looks him in the eyes when she speaks, âI feel no malice towards you for tonight.â She faintly smiles, âI hope all goes well for you.â
The batcomputer is the only thing illuminating the otherwise dingy cave. The light blue light cascades over Bruceâs hardened face.Â
Thereâs nothing new on the computer, only the case heâs recently been working on. He stares at it as if thatâll clear his mind.Â
Nothing has changed with the case recently; the subject has been neutralized, but a small part of him wishes something would happen.Â
If something happened, then he would at least be able to hear her voice for a moment.Â
Itâs been a few days since he last saw her and since that last date. Itâs not a long time, but to have a crush on someone, one hour feels like too long to be away.Â
His eyes dart back and forth between the computer and his phone. He could call and see if she has had any revelations on her part, but he bets against it.Â
He sighs heavily and sinks into his chair. He drags his hands over his eyes, and a low groan comes out of him.Â
He gets up and begrudgingly makes his way back to the manor, but he doesnât notice that he left his phone.Â
He also doesnât hear the quiet ding! that rings out from his phone.Â
Hey, Bruce! Itâs me, sorry if this is too random, but I was wondering if Iâd be able to come over and discuss this new case Iâve taken on?
Damian stands over Bruce, whoâs lying out on the couch. He stares at Bruce as if heâs an alien creature.Â
âFather.â
He pokes his head.
âFather.â
He pokes his head again, no response.
He waits for a momentâŚ
âFather.â
This continues for at least another thirty seconds before Bruce slowly opens his eyes. Thereâs a frown on his face as he looks at his sonâs face.
He doesnât get a chance to question anything because Damian immediately begins speaking, âYour friend is here.â
Bruceâs eyes widen, and he sits up, âHow long has she been here?â
Damian answers in a nonchalant tone, âAn hour.â
Bruceâs face shifts deeper into worry as he gets up from the couch and attempts to find something to cover up his makeshift pajamas.Â
He finds a robe thrown on a chair and quickly puts it on as he makes a beeline for the family dining room.Â
His nerves shoot through the roof as he ups his pace, but he slows down slightly when he hears voices coming from down the hall.Â
He can make out Dickâs voice clearly; heâs attempting to shut Damian up from saying something slightly offensive.Â
Under their brash voices, he can also hear a softer, more jovial voice through the cracks. He can hear her laughing at their antics and possibly even egging on Timâs teasing.Â
He slowly enters the room, and all eyes turn to him. Timâs the first one to speak up, âWow, finally. Weâve already eaten breakfast!â
She giggles quietly at this, then in a teasing tone states, âYou got real dressed up for us.â
Dick covers up his laugh with a cough, and Tim snorts, âAt least itâs your good robe.â He turns towards her, âYou should see, he has one that has a bunch of Batman logos on it.â
She laughs at that, not knowing the full reason as to why thatâs so embarrassing.Â
Bruce grumbles as he sits down next to her, âSorry, I was up late in the ba-â He clears his throat, âMy office.â
Damian rolls his eyes far into the back of his head. He takes this as an opportunity to state whatâs been annoying them all, âSo, Father, are you going to ask her on a date as well?â
Timâs eyes grow wide as Dick covers his face, but Damian continues, âItâs been really pissing me off to see you act like a nervous boy whenever youâre around her.â
From beside him, she lets out an earnest, hearty laugh at Damianâs swearing and bluntness. Bruce places his face in his hands and refuses to look any of them in the eyes.Â
Even though itâs muffled by his hands, everyone understands him perfectly: âGet out now.â
The three boys immediately get up to leave, and she follows suit, but Bruce stops her before she can leave.Â
His voice comes out slightly more desperate than he intends, âStay, please. I can explainâŚthem.â
She lightly smiles, âItâs okay, Bruce.â
He looks at her straight in her eyes, and she continues speaking. Her voice is softer than before, âYou donât have to say anything else, but,â she pauses and thinks for a second, âIâd like to go on a date with you.â
His eyebrows crease together, but she stops him before he can speak, âThe boys told me about your wholeâŚsituation. To say the least.â
He breathes out a laugh as she smiles brightly. He turns his head away before turning back to her, his smile reaching his eyes.
âThey really went that far?â
She laughs and nods, âThey told me every detail. Canât believe you went on a date with Jayemi Crawford.â
He smiles, âYeah, me neither.â
They laugh together; this is the calmness Bruce needed. He needed someone whose laugh could wake him up from an awful night of sleeping on the couch.
What he didnât realize, or more so, what he wouldnât let himself realize, is that she needed the same thing. She needed someone who could at least keep a calm exterior to her hectic, unscheduled life.Â
He reaches for her hand and holds it as if she could break. His voice comes out soft, something not everyone has the chance to hear.Â
He takes a deep breath, âWould you like to go on a date with me?Â
She giggles, âOf course, Mr. Wayne. Iâd love to go on a date with you.â
They smile together, and he takes a leap of faith and brings her hand to his lips. He presses a gentle kiss to the backside of her hand.Â
His voice maintains the soft tone, âWeâre having our family dinner tomorrow, if youâre comfortable, youâre more than welcome to join us.â
She smiles and nods her head, âIâd love to.â
Bruce appears more nervous than she. His hands sweat, and his knee bounces against his will.Â
She reaches a hand out to calm him, and he smiles appreciatively at her, but it does little to quell his worries. He grips her hand harsher than he intends, but she doesnât mention it.Â
Alfred enters the room and announces, âThe boys are here,â he takes a breath, âand Jason has decided to come.â
Bruce sits up straight at that. He looks over to her for reassurance, but quickly looks back towards the dining room doors.
Dick comes in first, hooting and hollering over winning this bet.
Next is Damian, whoâs looking behind him while he runs quickly into the room and slams into his seat.Â
Tim comes in right after him; heâs out of breath for whatever reason.Â
Two of the boys are out of breath, and Bruce stares at them quizically.Â
He gets his answer when he hears heavy footsteps in the hallway, quickly running into the dining room.Â
âYou fucking idiots! I know you stole my keys!â
He slides into the dining room and immediately skids to a stop when he notices Bruce.
The two stare at each other, neither knowing who should speak first.Â
Bruce speaks, âJasonâŚâ
Jason clears his throat and looks to Bruceâs side, âWho are you? No offense.â
Everyoneâs eyes widen (some in worry, some in amusement), and look towards Bruceâs right side.Â
She just laughs.
Her laugh turns into giggles as she states, âDonât worry, your brothers have asked me worse.â
After that, the tension in the room fizzles out as Jason takes a spot next to Tim. She engages in conversation with the boys as Bruce quietly sits back and watches.Â
She speaks to all of them as equals. She doesnât judge any of them for their overly violent stories they tell, and she doesnât judge when they bluntly ask questions.Â
He could live like this.
He didnât know this was what he needed.
Notes: I wanted this to be 6.7k words cause I have the humor of a 12 yr old boy
I propose a neglected reader who is taken in by the old ladies of high society.
At first, the poor thing looks quite lost at the galas, and they keep their distance. However, over time, they notice that dear 'Brucie' Wayne doesn't treat her like the rest of his children. In a way, she is like themâfaking a bright smile while concealing the weight of a broken family behind it.
So, they decide to train her to be not just a lady, but a true socialite, a shining star who will one day find her freedom.
They may be trapped in their marriages, but Marthaâs granddaughter will not be.
A/N: Have a psych exam, so I can't put out a full chapter until later this week. Decided to post a deleted scene in the meantime
Part 8/Currently Reading/Part 9 (Coming Soon)
âBRUCE FUCKING WAYNE EVERYBODY.â You swing the wine bottle wildly, gesturing to the crowd of three you have all huddled in your living room.Â
Pamela Isley, Harleen Quinzel, and Selina Kyle, all recent additions to your friend circle, sit with wine glasses and face masks around you. Each of them varying degrees of drunk.Â
âLeave it to the âPlayboy Billionaire Philanthropistâ to rip out your heart and stomp on your self confidence, before fucking off to GOD KNOWS WHEREâ
A golden portal opens up beside you and a single paper drops at your feet.Â
âWhat is it?â Pamela asks lazily, taking another large swig of wine.Â
You pick up the paper and inspect it.Â
âItâs a cease and desist? Issues by Stark Industries llc?â
âFuck that! We got bigger problems to talk about!â Harley yells before throwing her empty glass at the wall. âLetâs find Brucie and cut his-â
âHarley, sit down. Weâre not cutting his dick off. Thatâs not the solution to everything.â Pamela places her hand on Harleyâs arm and pulls her back down to the couch, removing the knife she pulled out of god knows where.Â
âI donât know, Ivy. I feel like Harleyâs got a point.â Selina plucked the wine bottle out of your hand and replaced it with a cup of water, you didnât see her leave to get. âMaybe cut off his balls though. That excess testosterone isnât helping anyone.â
That sent everyone into a fit of laughter.
In all honesty, you really needed this.Â
That whole situation made you feel⌠hollow. He ran out on your date, and didnât have the courtesy to even let you down easily. The only reason you knew he was alive was due to the kidsâ updates.Â
It had been an entire month.Â
An entire month of radio silence from a man who you shouldnât have fallen for so hard. You barely knew him, he was awkward, and blunt, and flip flopped like there was no tomorrow.Â
Were you just starved for affection? Willing to give your heart to anyone who even showed you a crumb of attention?Â
âGod, Iâm pathetic.â You sighed and sunk into your armchair. âI donât even know why Iâm so hooked on him. Maybe⌠Maybe I should try dating again?â
Selina smiled a wide and devious smile, glancing at the other two girls in a silent conversation that you missed in your drunken state.Â
âYou know, darling, a man can never really decide what he wants. Thereâs no reason to put effort in for a man who canât communicate.â
âYeah, doll. If he wants ya, heâs gotta grovel! You deserve bettaâ
âWhat do you think Ivy? Shouldnât our kitten put herself back on the prowl?â
Ivy sighed and glanced into her empty wine glass, as if she were trying to summon more wine with just her mind.Â
âMen are exhausting. Donât put in more effort than they put out⌠I say go for it.â
Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the need to stop giving Bruce power over you, but either way you felt invigorated.Â
âIâll think about it! NO PROMISES.â
Selina seemed satisfied with that answer and raised her glass in solidarity.Â
âPurrfectâ
Everyone groaned except Harley, who seemed to think it was hilarious.
âBooooâ
âSomeone take the wine from Selina, if she gets any drunker sheâll never stop.â
âCareful, this kittyâs got claws.â
âThatâs hilarious!.â
âHarley, you dated a clown. Your opinions are invalid.â
Elsewhere...
Hal Jordanâs phone pinged in the middle of peace negotiations, and being the professional that he was⌠he pulled it out and started texting immediately.Â
âHey Spooky, when did you give Catwoman my phone number?â
Batman barely spared the man a glance, âLantern. This is not the time. Need I remind you that weâre in this position because of your negligence?â
âGeez, no need to be so testy.â Slumping down in his chair, Hal glanced at his phone again.Â
âIt is kind of weird that sheâs trying to set me up on a blind date, though.â
Summary: Selina owes you a spa day and compensation for the psychic damage this date inflicted.
WARNINGS: (Slightly ooc)Hal Jordan, Threats, Dick Grayson's reputation(very briefly mentioned)
A/N: You're lucky I changed the way this chapter was gonna end. I was about to ruin everyone's night.
Expect fluff for the next chapter. The kids have been gone for far too long
Part 7/Currently Reading/Part 9 (Coming Soon)
Blind dates sounded like hell, and the one you were currently on didnât give you much reason to waver in your position.
Selina had seemed to set you up on a date with one Hal Jordan, a very âself-interestedâ man whose confidence was just one more compliment away from being classified as narcissism.
He, at least, took you to a decent, nice restaurant. One of those soulless fancy places with a dress code and small proportions. It was the exact type of environment you couldnât stand. Then he decides to order for you, and you honestly should have left then. Instead, you sat there, poking at the bundle of leaves they called a salad.
âWith light dressing. I know how you ladies are with your figures.â
He was an attractive man, you wonât deny that (You did have to overlook the practically toxic-looking green of his button-up)but the date had been going on for almost two hours at this point, and youâve gotten maybe one word in this entire time.
âSo I tell Spooky, âLooks like someone needs to get laid,â and he throws a knife at me!â Halâs lighthearted story held just a little hint of resentment if the way he was flapping his hands around was anything.
âWait⌠I thought you were a pilot?â
Halâs face turned pale, as he stuttered out an explanation that wouldâve been believable if he werenât so humble(ironically), âWell, yes and no. I was a pilot. Now Iâm more of a⌠government agent? Nothing too special or anything, just classified work since I go to a lot of black sites and all.â
Well, that wasnât weird at all.
âAnyway, contrary to what he says, Spooky really isnât the leader, ya know? Most of my team looks to me for guidance or direction.â
You knew you shouldnât have gone on this date.
You regretted saying yes the moment you hung up with Selina, but then Bruce messaged you.
Bruce: [Could we please talk? I can explain]
You: [Hello there to you, too, Mr. Wayne. Unfortunately, my schedule is completely booked for the foreseeable future.]
Bruce: [Iâm sorry about how I left things. I didnât want to leave, but things came up.]
You: [âThings came up??? Iâd rather you just be honest and say you werenât interested. I wouldnât have been offended.]
Bruce:[I promise Iâm interested. It was an emergency. I still want to keep seeing you]
You: [A month of radio silence doesnât exactly scream âInterestedâ Bruce.
Whatever. I canât do this right now.
I donât know who you think I am, but Iâm sure as hell not your pet broke brokey. Iâm not gonna just sit and wait for you to come back into my life. ]
With that, you didnât block his number, but you did mute his contact.
You refused to let a man play with your feelings.
If he had to deal with a work issue, he could have just said that, like how Hal-
Oh shit
What the hell was Hal even talking about right now?
â-eally creepy child! Takes after Spooky to a ridiculous degree.â
âYou know, you really do talk about this âSpookyâ guy a lot. You sure you donât wanna be on a date with him right now?â
You really hadnât meant to say that. That was an inside thought that shouldâve stayed an inside thought.
Judging by the various shades of red Halâs face was turning, however, you might have just given him a gay awakening as opposed to offending him?
âI- no. No, no, no. I can not be attracted to that man! I- Thatâs a crime against everything I stand for!â
âGay people?â
âWhat? Havenât you been listening to anything Iâve been saying?â No. âI donât have a problem with dating men. I have a problem with being attracted to that emo, My Chemical Romance wannabe, garbage disposal sounding, Dorito built, toned as hell, tall, fat ass having, man!â
Well, that certainly didnât go off the rails there for a second.
âNot to mention how many kids he has! The youngest one takes after his dad a little too much! There I was, trying to get home to relax after a month-long work trip, and who do I see but that demon child, and the kid throws a knife at me too!â
Wait⌠this sounded a little too familiarâŚ
âIâm telling you! Rich kids are fucking weird. The only thing he said to me was that I âinterferred in his plansâ and to âkeep my near constant stream of failures to myself.ââ
You couldnât stop the giggle that forced its way out of your mouth. That was definitely Damian. So, did Bruce work for the military? That would explain the month of radio silence. Still didnât justify him just leaving you halfway across Gotham without so much as an explanation. But against your better judgment, it made you feel a little better.
âYeah, laugh it up over there, but someone needs to keep that feral creature on a leash.â
You froze.
âExcuse me?â
The man just rolled his eyes at you and kept talking. Not catching the chilly tone of your voice.
âIâm serious! You donât know the kid, so I can understand, but that child is a danger to everyone around him. A kid with his type of training, combined with that horrible temper of his, is bound to snap and kill someone eventually. Itâs just a matter of whAUGHHâ
Your hands moved faster than your brain.
One minute, you were frozen and seething internally at the bullshit this man was spewing about your child, and the next minute, a steak knife was flying out of your hand and embedding itself in the wall above Halâs head.
âWatch your god damn mouth, Harold.â
His mouth twisted up in irritation at the use of his birth name, almost looking more offended by that than the knife.
âListen, Lady, I donât know what your problem is, but first of all, donât call me Harold. Second of all, youâre nowhere near hot enough to be this crazy.â Hal leaned one elbow on the table and pointed a finger in your face, his god awful ring on full display. âYouâre probably a 5.5 on a good day. I was gonna bump you up a few points for the lovely green dress that shows off the assets, but honestly, youâre boring as hell.â
âBoring? Says the man who spent almost three hours talking about either yourself or the guy you have wet dreams about!â
A waiter came up to your table, and suddenly you remembered that you were in a very nice and very public restaurant.
âExcuse me, sir?â That was about as much effort a minimum wage worker was going to put in. So when Hal's hands went up to shoo him off, the waiter promptly turned around and mumbled something that sounded like "I don't get paid enough for this."
Honestly? You can't even blame him.
âHow do you know about my dreams?!â
âOH, like it wasnât obvious, Harold.â
Whether his face was red from anger or embarrassment, you already knew you had gone too far. You were purely speaking out of anger, not having enough foresight to realize that just because you were in a public place, it didnât mean he couldnât do anything to you.
You knew nothing about this man despite having listened to him talk about himself for so long.
âYou fucking bit-â
He reached out towards you, aiming to grab your wrist. You barely had time to blind before your world tilted on its axis, and suddenly you were standing there, in the arms of Bruce Wayne.
âFinish that sentence, Jordan, and Iâll break fucking your legs.â
For a moment, the entire restaurant was bathed in a silent tension. It wasnât uncommon for Brucie Wayne to appear at random restaurants unannounced, especially if he didnât have a reservation and just wanted to pay a table to give theirs up.
But what wasnât common was Brucie Wayne angry.
Brucie Wayne was the fun-loving playboy who got drunk and threw up on foreign politicians. The laid back trust fund kind that stumbled his way to success with models hanging off of him at every turn.
This wasnât that Brucie Wayne.
This was Bruce Wayne.
This man somehow stood taller and more menacing. He held himself with the confidence, not of a fool, but of a man who knows exactly how much damage he could do. His expression was like a storm,and his voice was like the thunder. The coldness in his tone made everyone but you flinch.
Because for all his rage and venomâŚ
He still held you like glass.
He was so tense that he was almost shaking, yet the hand in yours was caressing your knuckles with a comforting gentleness that didnât match this scene in front of you.
âBa-er-Bruce? Hey Spooky, when did you get here? You mind letting go of my collar?â Hal had the de-escalation skills of an unattended nuke, and they were doing nothing to ease Bruceâs temper.
âI will give you one opportunity. For the sake of all of those dining at this restaurant.â
Halâs eyes widened in fear as he continued his pointless attempts to regain his footing. Only succeeded in causing his button-up to strain against the force of Bruceâs hold.
âWhoa there big guy! Iâm sure we can work out an understanding here! What did I do this time? Eat your leftovers? Break something in the supply room? Accidentally flirt with one of your kids again? I swear I didnât know he was 17 at the time. In my defense, heâs built like a tank and I couldnât exactly get a good look at his face.â
The fist holding Halâs shirt only got tighter as the man rambled.
âShut up!â Everyone around you flinched again as he yelled. âYou are well aware of who I am and what I am capable of. Yet, you still think you can come to my city, insult my son, and threaten one of my people, and I wouldnât find out?â
Halâs eyes flickered to you in a brief understanding of the situation he was in.
An understanding that you were also just realizing.
He called you one of his people, but you didnât feel like that was what he wanted to say. The words suggested a business partner or close friend, but the way he growled it out suggested so much more.
He said âmy people,â but what he meant was âmy woman,â and that made your heart race in a way it definitely shouldnât have.â
âDonât look at her, look at me.â Bruce shakes Hal again, bringing back his attention as well as yours. âI expect you to be ready bright and early for some⌠âsensitivityâ training. Do. you. understand?â
The green-clad man looked one second away from pissing himself as he nodded. âY-yes, sir.â
Then finally, after what had felt like an eternity, Bruce threw Hal Jordan onto the floor with a simple âGo.â
Hal recovered relatively quickly and made a beeline for the door, only stopping when Bruce called out to him right before he made it past the threshold.
âHarold.â
Hal gave a glare that morphed into a pretty satisfying fearful smile.
âY-yes?â
âDick and Damian wanted to have a few words. Donât worry about giving them your number⌠Theyâll find you.â
âDick is⌠oh god help me.â
You werenât sure if Hal could look any paler, but at the mention of Dickâs name, he looked like he was seconds away from passing out.
After this whole day, you were pretty sure you were, too.
âHeyâŚâ Bruceâs voice sounded nothing like how it did a moment ago. It held a softness you hadnât heard from him before. He gently caressed your face as his thumb rubbed your cheek, the other hand still holding yours.
âIâm sorry.â
You shook your head, âYou donât need to apologize for Halâs behavior. Heâs a grade A dumbass with zero filter, and thatâs my impression after only knowing him for a couple hours. I couldnât imagine it getting any better with time.â
Bruceâs laugh lit up his entire face as he shook his head at the thought.
âNo, it does not. If anything, he creates more problems than he fixes. Heâs only still employed so I can keep an eye on him. Wouldnât want that out in the wild⌠but no. Thatâs not what I was apologizing about.â
Your head tilted in confusion as Bruce threw a couple of hundred-dollar bills onto the table and led you out of the restaurant.
âIâm sorry for not communicating with you. For leaving you in the middle of our date and for being indecisive about what I want.â
Bruce led you to his car, but didnât get inside. Not yet.
Instead, he looked into your eyes and waited.
âWhat do you want, Bruce?â Your voice was barely a whisper, but he heard you loud and clear.
âYou. I want you.â
You both were lost in each other's eyes. The tense atmosphere dropped as the air thickened with something else. It would be easy to lean in, give up your mind in pursuit of this relationship, but something was tickling the back of your mind, and you just needed to ask.
"How did you know I was here?"
Bruce froze, glancing to the side in an attempt to avoid your eyes. He wasn't telling you something; that was obvious.
"Well, you see-" ACHOO!
He was cut off by a... sneezing bush?
"Oh my god. Timothy Jackson Drake, I swear to god."
"How'd you know it was me?! It could've been any of us!" Tim stepped out of the bush, covered in branches and leaves.
You only returned his question with a blank stare, the one you did every time he misbehaved.
"Okay, fine! We were planning on sabotaging your date."
"TIM!"
"BUT. It was so bad we honestly didn't think we needed to do anything."
Bruce brought his hand up to your cheek again, "Ignore the children, they had good intentions, even if they were a bit misguided."
"I can definitely see where they get that from."
"Now that was just uncalled for."
...
...
...
...
Click...
An explosion can be heard all throughout the building.
WEE-OO WEE-OO WE-OO
They scramble like roaches, away from the blast, through the walls.
They run like the vermin they are.
It was all a joke...
The man turned, hearing the sounds of a radio echo through the debris.
There was someone left...
Someone to hear the punchline.
[Do you wanna hear a joke? I promise it'll be funny...]
The footsteps moved closer at a calm pace. Laughter grew as he got closer.
[-come in! Can anyone hear me? DAMNIT. PLEASE. I need backup! He's-]
A gunshot.
The soft trickle of blood.
Laughter. So much laughter.
