mileskisser

Latest Posts by mileskisser

Mark hugs are nice hugs

🦇 𝗛𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗼 𝗪𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗠𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝗚𝗿𝗮𝘆𝘀𝗼𝗻 | A DETAILED GUIDE

regarding the project: whether or not you have read the comics, this is a straightforward tutorial for anyone wishing to write mark grayson more precisely. brief notes. genuine emotional breakdowns. no lecturing. no gatekeeping. just a straightforward, honest look at what really shapes him and how to use the source material to portray him accurately.

a/n: i posted the poll about making a how to write mark grayson guide today, but honestly... i’ve been working on this for a while, ever since i posted some fics. it started because a few people mentioned that some of my mark breakdowns helped them with their fics, and i thought it might be nice to have something more detailed all in one place. so even though the poll went up today, this guide’s been in the works for a bit hehe i really hope it helps anyone who wants to write mark more true to the comics! thanks for reading!

in the invincible comics, if there’s one thing about mark grayson, it’s that he’s stubborn as hell when it comes to his ideals. like, painfully stubborn. there are so many times where he just flat-out refuses to back down from what he believes is right, even when everyone around him is telling him he’s being naive or that it’s gonna blow up in his face. and since the show hasn’t gotten to a lot of these moments yet, let’s talk about some comic only examples that really show just how stubborn (and sometimes reckless) mark’s idealism can be.

okay, so first off: the whole fight between mark and cecil stedman (the government guy who runs the GDA)? it's turning point of mark's view of the GDA and what it truly means to be a hero. it also begins to shed him of his naivety.

basically, mark finds out cecil’s been doing all this shady stuff behind the scenes like building an army of zombie cyborg supersoldiers (the reanimen), working with literal evil clones, just... real villain behavior. cecil’s whole mindset is like, “yeah it’s awful, but it’s for the greater good.” and mark? hates it. the second he finds out, he’s ready to fight.

and cecil’s response? he doesn’t even try to explain himself anymore. he just sends a whole damn army of reanimen after mark to try and beat him into submission. it’s brutal. mark gets swarmed, blasted with this crazy sonic device they rigged up, he’s getting absolutely trashed, and he still refuses to back down. he barely escapes, pulls some of the guardians together, and marches right back to finish what he started.

they trash the reanimen, it’s a mess, and at the end, cecil’s standing there like, “i did what had to be done.” and mark, bleeding and furious, basically tells him to shove it. he straight-up quits. no backup, no government support, nothing just him deciding he’d rather be completely alone than be part of something he thinks is wrong. like... that’s mark grayson. stubborn to the end.

Universa Arc.

so, universa’s this alien warrior who shows up on earth basically trying to steal the planet’s energy to save her dying world. mark and eve fight her, they win, she gets thrown in prison. standard superhero stuff, right? most heroes would’ve been like “cool, problem solved” and moved on. but not mark. mark can’t let it go.

he actually goes out of his way to visit her in jail. just to talk. and when he finds out she was only doing all of this because her people were desperate not because she was evil or power-hungry or anything he immediately goes into “let’s fix this” mode. like, no hesitation.

and he doesn't just feel bad about it and leave, no, mark convinces the warden to let her go, helps her find a way to safely get the energy she needs without hurting anyone, and sends her back home to save her people. universa is so stunned she literally promises to repay him someday.

it’s honestly one of the purest things he ever does. he refuses to just see her as “the bad guy.” he sees the person underneath. he believes that people, even enemies, can do the right thing if you give them a real chance.

was it a little naive? yeah, kinda. but it worked because mark’s the kind of guy who means it. like, really means it. and people can tell. that’s why his idealism hits so hard. he never gives up on the idea that there’s a better way.

Oliver and Allen VS Mark

okay, so one of the most heartbreaking examples of mark’s idealism clashing with the people he loves is the whole scourge virus situation.

basically, allen the alien and mark’s half-brother oliver come up with this plan to release a modified version of the scourge virua, the same virus that almost wiped out the viltrumites, to finish the job for good.

and mark? mark is horrified.

he’s not just worried about the viltrumites (even though yeah, some of them deserve it). he’s thinking about the humans. he’s thinking about the risk. he’s thinking about how unleashing something that dangerous ever is just crossing a moral line you can’t uncross.

so he tries to stop them. and it turns into a full-on fight. it’s messy, it’s emotional, and somewhere in the middle of it all, oliver, desperate and panicking, accidentally infects mark with the virus. mark almost dies.

and even after all that, after being betrayed and almost killed by his own brother, mark doesn’t blow up in rage. he’s just heartbroken. because for mark, the real tragedy isn’t what happened to him. it’s that people he loves were willing to risk something so horrific, to cross a line he’s spent his whole life refusing to cross.

like... he would literally rather fight his own family, risk dying, than give up on his ideals. he genuinely believes that the ends don’t justify the means, even if it costs him everything.

The Final Battle with Thragg and Mark's Monologue

by the end of the comic, we really get the full picture of who mark grayson has become. all that stubborn idealism, independence, and moral conviction he’s built up over the years? it all comes to a head during his final battle with thragg.

and the thing is...mark’s not just throwing punches. he’s saying everything he’s believed, everything that’s come to define him. he straight-up rejects thragg’s whole worldview, the viltrumite mindset of "strength over everything." and while they’re fighting, mark gives this monologue (mid-fight, because of course he does) that honestly just hits you right in the chest:

“you see us as people living only for conquest, measured only by the size of our empire. no room for peace. no room for compassion. no room for love… the truth is you were holding us back… we can be a force for good. we can spread peace throughout the galaxy. we can love and be loved. we can be happy.”

like... that’s so mark. even after everything he’s been through, even while he's locked in a life or death fight, he still believes people, even viltrumites, can be better.

and it’s not just talk either. this is what mark actually wants. he’s trying to turn an empire built on war into something good. it’s insanely idealistic, yeah, but it’s 100% real. and what’s really cool is that he’s doing it his way. not the way any viltrumite leader before him would’ve done it. this is mark’s independence on full blast, he's building something new, completely breaking away from the old viltrumite pride and brutality.

thragg, of course, can’t even wrap his head around it. and mark beats him, physically and symbolically. it’s basically proving that compassion and strength aren’t opposites. mark’s showing that being a good person doesn’t mean being weak, and being cruel doesn’t mean you’re strong.

if you’re writing fanfiction that covers late-series or post-series mark, this moment is a huge thing to keep in mind. by now, he’s not the uncertain teenager anymore. he knows who he is and what he stands for. but he hasn’t lost that earnestness, that moral fire he had as a kid, if anything, it’s gotten stronger and sharper.

mark taking down thragg with conviction shows the kind of leader he’s grown into. he’s not just reacting to problems anymore; he’s actively trying to shape a better future. people look up to him, even people who used to be enemies, because of the integrity he shows. not because they’re scared of him, but because they respect him.

another super important thing: even after all that, mark doesn’t turn into some dictator. like, it would’ve been so easy for him to say, “i’m the strongest, i’m in charge now.” but he doesn’t. he stays focused on making things better. he pushes for the viltrumites to actually protect earth, to integrate, to live differently. he keeps that humility.

even at the height of his power, he’s worrying about being a good husband, a good dad (the finale shows his future family life), and living up to his ideals. he never stops checking himself because deep down, he’s terrified of turning into what his dad was.

so if you’re writing a future!mark or an alt ending where he’s leading the viltrumites or running with huge responsibilities, always keep that in mind: no matter how powerful he is, he’s still that same kid who’s scared of losing his humanity and who’ll do anything to protect it.

Now that we understand the Idealism surrounding his character, let's discuss how to actually write him.

okay so if you’re writing mark grayson in fanfics, one of the biggest things you have to remember is that he is not a soft boy. he is not a “yes man.” he is not some passive sunshine character who just agrees with whatever the hell his friends or love interest says because he’s so sweet and loyal. that’s just not who he is.

mark is kind. he’s empathetic. he loves deeply. but he is stubborn as hell when it comes to his beliefs. like painfully, frustratingly stubborn.

he doesn’t just roll over when someone he loves disagrees with him. he doesn’t abandon his moral compass to avoid conflict. if anything, he’ll fight even harder against the people he cares about because he believes so strongly in what he thinks is right.

this is the guy who:

tells cecil (the literal head of the GDA, who helped him post omni-man) to fuck off to his face because cecil’s methods are too corrupt.

tries to rehabilitate a literal eco-terrorist (dinosaurus) because he genuinely thinks they could do good together, even when everyone else calls him insane.

punches his own little brother and one of his best friends (oliver and allen) in the face when they want to use the scourge virus to wipe out the viltrumites, because he refuses to believe genocide is ever the answer even when it would save billions of lives.

goes into exile on an alien planet with his family instead of accepting a “peaceful” dictatorship run by robot, because he would rather lose everything than live under tyranny. then, he eventually comes back and kills robot himself.

like... mark is kind, yes. but he’s not compliant. he’s not someone you can easily sway just because you’re close to him. he doesn’t make decisions based on what’s easiest or what’ll hurt the fewest feelings. he makes decisions based on what he believes is right, even if it blows up his relationships. even if it hurts people he loves. even if it isolates him.

so when you’re writing him:

let him argue. let him push back when something doesn’t sit right with him.

let him get angry when his beliefs are challenged. he’s emotional. he’s reactive.

let him stand his ground even when it costs him.

let him care so deeply it hurts him sometimes.

don’t be afraid to show that he’s wrong, too because sometimes his stubbornness backfires horribly (like trusting dinosaurus). but even when he’s wrong, he’s never malicious. he’s never apathetic. he’s trying.

he’s not cold. he’s not cruel. but he’s also not a people-pleaser. he’s willing to lose friends, mentors, allies, and even his home if it means doing what he feels is right.

common mischaracterizations you should avoid:

making him a soft, easily manipulated boyfriend who never questions anything.

making him prioritize romance over his core values without struggle. (like, if you have him abandoning his morals instantly for love, it feels wrong. he might bend, but it would mess him up inside and cause conflict.) DO NOT CONFLATE HIS MORALS WITH WHAT THE GDA BELIEVES!!

making him unrealistically calm and detached. mark feels everything with his whole chest. when he’s hurt or angry, it shows. he doesn't bottle it up perfectly.

writing him like he's just “along for the ride” emotionally. mark makes decisions. he moves the plot. even when he’s wrong, he’s active, not passive.

writing mark grayson right means letting him be a mess sometimes. it means letting him get bloodied up in fights he probably can’t win. it means letting him make terrible mistakes because he believed too hard in someone. it means letting him love people and lose people and still keep standing, still keep hoping. still keep fighting for the better world he dreams of.

because that's what makes him invincible. not the powers. not the strength. it’s the fact that even when everything in him is broken, his body, his mind, etc, he keeps fighting for what he believes in.

bad vs good characterization examples for mark

example 1

bad: "are you sure about this?" he asked, voice trembling. "i mean... if you think it's right, i'll go along with it. i trust you." (he says nothing else. he just follows along. no hesitation, no conflict, just blind loyalty.)

why it's wrong: this makes him sound like a passive puppy who just goes wherever the story/author pushes him. mark is loyal, yeah, but he’s not a yes man. if something feels wrong to him, he’s going to say something even if it starts a fight.

good: "i don’t know if i can go with you on this," mark said, frowning. "i get why you want to do it... i do. but it doesn’t sit right with me. it’s not who i want to be." his hands flexed at his sides, restless. "i’m not trying to fight you. i’m trying to make you understand." (there’s tension. there’s conflict. but the love is still there. he’s standing his ground because he cares.)

example 2

bad: mark nodded immediately. "you're right. i didn’t even think about it that way. i’ll change everything i'm doing for you." (he has no independent thought. he never questions anything. he changes core beliefs instantly.)

why it's wrong: mark can compromise sometimes, but it’s never instant. if he changes his mind, it comes from hard conversations, real consequences, or deep emotional shifts. he doesn’t just flip a switch because someone asked him nicely.

good: "maybe you’re right," mark muttered after a long beat, his jaw locked. "but you can’t expect me to throw away everything i believe just because it's easier." he exhaled, frustrated, running a hand through his ebony hair. "i need to think. i can't just... pretend this doesn't matter."

key reminders when writing mark:

he’s stubborn. like cartoonishly stubborn. even when it’s inconvenient. even when it costs him everything.

he’s idealistic. he genuinely believes doing the right thing matters, even if nobody else believes it anymore.

he’s emotional. he feels everything with his whole chest. anger, sadness, guilt, hope, it’s never muted or put down for the sake of plot purposes.

he’s reactive. mark doesn’t always think things through. if he sees something he doesn't like or someone he loves in danger, he moves first, thinks later.

he’s not a people pleaser. even if he loves you, if you’re doing something he thinks is wrong, he’s gonna call you out. loudly.

he fights with people he loves. not because he loves them less but because he loves them too much to let them destroy themselves or cause harm to other people that causes conflict in what he believes in.

he’s not a soft boy. he’s kind. he’s empathetic. but he’s also willing to bloody his fists and risk his life for what he believes in.

he’s not passive. mark makes choices. even when they’re bad ones. he’s an active character who moves the plot forward.

he’s wrong sometimes. his idealism blinds him. he trusts the wrong people. he fucks up. and he owns it (eventually).

he doesn't believe violence is the first answer (especially at the end of the series). but when it’s necessary, he doesn’t hold back. if he’s in a fight, he’s there to win.

he can’t be guilt tripped into giving up his morals. you can hurt him. you can betray him. but you can’t make him become someone he’s not.

he keeps hoping. even after all the betrayal, death, loss, heartbreak he's gone through, he never fully lets go of hope.

NOTABLE MOMENTS TO HELP CHARACTERIZE HIM IN YOUR FIC

“DON’T EVER THREATEN MY FAMILY!!” – Issue #33.

this is mark at his absolute breaking point just pure protective rage, screaming at angstrom who just hurt his mom. it’s a simple line, but it hits because you can feel everything behind it. the second someone he loves is in danger, mark doesn’t hold back. he doesn’t care about looking heroic or calm, he just loses it. and that’s something to keep in mind if you’re writing him, when mark’s temper explodes, it’s not about his pride or getting even. it’s about protecting the people he loves. period. he’s like a lion protecting his cubs its all instinct, no hesitation. so if you’re ever writing a scene where a villain’s threatening someone close to him, picture mark practically shaking, shouting until his voice breaks, just burning with that raw, desperate anger. it’s not polished or composed, it’s messy, it’s emotional, and it’s all love underneath it.

“THIS IS BEING A SUPER-HERO? I'M JUST STOPPING CRAP FROM HAPPENING AT ANY GIVEN MOMENT. I'M NOT DOING ANYTHING REALLY WORTHWHILE… …AND WHEN I FAIL… MY GOD, I FAIL BIG. WE HAVE THE POWER TO CHANGE THE WORLD, EVE… …BUT INSTEAD THINGS JUST KEEP GETTING WORSE.” – Issue #81.

it’s not just some random thought he brushes off. you can tell it hits him. like... what if everything he’s been doing hasn’t actually changed anything? what if he’s just patching holes in something that’s already falling apart? it’s honestly a gut-punch moment because mark is usually so stubbornly hopeful. but even he isn’t immune to wondering if any of it’s enough. and it’s such an important part of who he is, he doesn’t just blindly believe everything’s fine. he feels it when it isn’t. he questions himself. he struggles with it. if you’re writing fanfic and you want to show a more introspective or vulnerable side of him, especially after something rough happens, this is the kind of feeling you want to tap into. not him giving up, but that raw, exhausted moment where he’s like, what’s the point if nothing ever really changes? it makes him feel real. because even with all the optimism and fight he’s got, sometimes the weight of it still catches up to him.

HOW TO WRITE HIS HUMOR/MORE LIGHT-HEARTED SIDE

mark isn’t all heavy drama and serious fights, he actually has a ton of light, funny moments, especially early on. like when he first starts getting his powers and his coworker asks him about his future, he just says

“finish high school, I guess.”

which is funny because he already knows he’s about to step into something way bigger.

there are little moments like that all over, times when he’s play fighting with william, or throwing out corny jokes, especially about stuff like science dog (his favorite comic, seance dog in the show). even though a lot of this guide focuses on the heavy, emotional stuff, it’s important not to forget these slice of life stuff

if you’re writing fanfics with him, adding in those little jokes or funny lines can really help keep mark in character. think about it like how spider-man cracks jokes during fights except mark’s version is a little less snarky and more dorky he jokes the most when he’s around people he’s comfortable with, and it’s not because he’s not taking things seriously it’s because that humor is just a part of who he is.

DISCLAIMER!

one of the biggest differences between comic mark and show mark is that comic mark is definitely rougher around the edges, especially early on. he’s not the super polished, always perfect hero type. in the early issues, mark can actually be kind of crude, he uses slurs (like the r-word) and makes some offhanded gay jokes, usually when he’s goofing around with william. it’s definitely surprising when you read it now, but it’s also important to understand that it’s part of his growth. it’s not written to make him look good, it’s showing that he’s a dumb teenage boy who hasn’t figured everything out yet. he says thoughtless, insensitive stuff because he’s young, immature, and still has a lot of learning to do.

and the comics let him grow.

later on, when william comes out to him, mark doesn’t just brush it off or make another dumb joke, he’s genuinely supportive. he accepts william without hesitation. and from that point on, you can see a clear shift, mark stops using slurs, stops making those kinds of jokes. it’s not a huge dramatic “lesson learned” moment, but the change is there. he matures. he gets it.

the show sort of skips over this whole messy, realistic part of his character arc. animated mark is a lot more careful and a little more "clean" from the start, he doesn’t really say anything offensive, and he’s framed as a lot more socially aware right out of the gate. which makes sense for a modern audience and a tv format, but it does smooth out some of the rough growth we see in comic mark.

comic mark’s early immaturity makes his later kindness and emotional intelligence feel earned. it’s not that he’s perfect, it’s that he chooses to grow, to be better, to really care about people in a way that goes beyond surface-level acceptance. that’s a huge part of what makes comic mark feel so real. he screws up, he says dumb stuff, but he listens, he learns, and he changes.

CONCLUSION AND FINAL NOTE!

at the end of the day, mark grayson isn’t about being perfect. he’s about trying. he’s stubborn as hell, emotional, sometimes reckless, and way more human than people give him credit for.

he holds onto what he believes even when everyone’s telling him to give up. he fights for the people he loves even when it costs him everything. he messes up (a lot), but he always, always tries to be better. that’s what makes him mark.

when you’re writing him, don’t be afraid to show all of it, the anger, the humor, the doubt, the stubborn hope that somehow refuses to die even when everything’s falling apart. he’s not supposed to be perfect or untouchable. he’s supposed to feel real.

sometimes he gets it wrong. sometimes he crashes and burns. but the point is, he keeps going. he cares even when it’s easier not to. and that’s why people love him.

i hope breaking all this down helps if you’re trying to write him, understand him better, or just see where he’s coming from. because when you really look at it, mark’s whole story isn’t about being the strongest guy in the room it’s about being the one who refuses to give up on people, even when it would be easier to stop caring.

thanks for reading! and honestly, if you ever feel stuck writing him, just go back to that core idea > he never stops trying. that’s who he is.

The Distorted Heart of Gotham City

My Persona drafts are all over the place… so let's add one more!

Fandoms: Batfam x Persona 5 — Reader-Insert

Prominent Characters: The Phantom Thieves, Red Hood, and Robin

Notes: Reader uses They/Them, no use of Y/N, Reader is a member of the Phantom Thieves, Persona 5 Royal spoilers (technically takes place during 3rd semester), Joker goes by Ren Amamiya, This is also technically a double isekai (Reader to Persona then Reader+Thieves to DC), when the font is italicized they're speaking in English

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈✁━━━━━━━━━━━

All you wanted to do was save the thieves some time. Knowing that going into the Science Centre would lead to a dead end that required Mementos intervention, you figured skipping straight to Mementos was a good idea. You had to explore it anyway, so it'd save you all the back and forth!

If you had known the floor would cave in and send you all into Gotham's underbelly, then you would've rather run the marathon instead.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈✁━━━━━━━━━━━

"Joker!"

"Stop calling him that—Fuck!"

More shadows appear from the ground as soon as that name was uttered. A flood of them poor out from beneath you, knocking you off balance and flinging you into the ferris wheel's car. The thieves cry out your code name, but they're drowned out by the cacophony of cackling emitted by each shadow. You struggle to get to your feet as multiple close in on you. The grins they adorn stretch from ear to ear, making their howling force you to stare into the endless abyss behind their teeth. You can barely get your thoughts together before the one directly in front of you is blasted away by a force of light.

"Ella!"

Violet bounds towards you with grace, flipping over shadows with the help of her rapier and summoning her persona. She wastes no time rushing to you to help you to your feet as Ella slams her leg into the invading shadows. Her steel boots piercing through each of their heads and turning them all to dust. Ella turns to you and bows before vanishing back into Violets heart, but it's not long before more of these abominations are crawling out of the floors and walls.

Seeing the injuries she's currently sustained, you summon your own persona to heal her and cast shields on the entire party. She thanks you mindlessly as her eyes sporadically roam over your body, "Are you okay?"

Of course she's more concerned for you than her own injuries. You get your persona to heal yourself too before they vanish, awaiting another command, "As good as I can be."

Bringing both of your attention back to the fight at hand, you see the rest of the thieves trying to thin the horde, but with more continuously spawning it's a futile endeavor.

Violet gets her persona to throw bless attacks to back the shadows further away, "Any ideas?"

You're eyes flitter across all mass of attacking clowns to take stock of your teammates positions. Oracle is hovering high above the fight providing support where she can, Skull and Panther are fighting back to back a little ahead of you by the roller coasters support beams, to your left Fox is trying his best to freeze the encroaching enemies, with Noir blasting the ones that slip past and gunning down those that get to close with Lucy. Then to your right you notice Joker, Queen, and Crow trying to create an open area on the field and you realize what they're trying to accomplish.

"Yeah," You're eyes scan the battlefield until you finally spot Mona jumping around on heads with Diego, "Run away. This mob is never going to end, so we need to make room for Mona to transform and get us the hell out of here. We need to reach our leader."

"On it."

Violet instantly has Ella by her side again, commanding her to use Brave Step. You both tear through the enemy line, collecting your friends from their fronts and making your way over to the other three. Joker and Queen are happy that everyone's here to help out, but Crow can't be grateful without some snarky remark.

"You all took your sweet time."

"Sorry I got thrown into a ferris wheel!"

"Pay more attention and it wouldn't have happened!"

With everyone finally grouped back together, you're able to create an effective enough wall to keep the shadows away from Mona, allowing him the freedom to transform into his van form. Everyone rushes inside, with Queen taking the wheel, Joker taking shotgun, Panther, Fox, and Noir taking the middle seats, and you, Crow and Violet taking one of the back seats with Skull and Oracle sitting across from you.

Though before Queen can drive off, the shadows encircle Mona and start banging on the hood of the van. There isn't anywhere that they don't cling to, making it a near impossibility to move forward. Noir tries to open the window to throw a grenade, but they nick her cheek and try to crawl inside. Fox kicks it back out the window, giving Noir the opportunity to throw throw the grenade and disperse the enemies to the side of the van.

Using Noir's explosion as a distraction, Joker gets out of Mona and climbs onto the roof of the van, to everyone's shock and confusion.

"What the hell is he doing!?"

"Don't look at me! Why would I know what the hell's going through his mind?"

As he stands there and looks over the endless wave of what he could only consider to be rotting clowns, he utters three words with all the poise and confidence he's gained over the year.

"Die for me."

Teddy bears start crawling out from underneath Mona and swarming the mob of shadows surrounding him. They bite into their legs, latch onto their faces, and scream with glee as they eviscerate everything in their path.

When the side door is finally free of shadows, Joker was quick to open it and swing in from the top. Once he was seated, Queen slammed her foot on the gas, taking off and running over any of the shadows far enough away to not get hit by the flying teddy bears.

Once you manage to get far away, enough so that you have to strain your ears to hear the shrill laughter from far behind you, do some of you finally release the tension you were holding. None of you fully relax, how could anyone when the city itself wants to set you ablaze and see you thrown to the dogs.

You were all keenly aware, that this Mementos didn't want you there. That was made clear almost the very moment you were thrown in here without any say.

It reacted as soon as you touched the floor, it rippled outwards as if trying to get away from you, willing to break itself to do so. Eyes started forming on buildings, and the few that were already littered around from the park decorations followed your every move. It wasn't long after that when someone had said Joker's code name, only wanting his opinion on their next steps when shadows began to crowd around you.

This city was alive, and it was watching. Waiting for a chance to remove you from itself entirely.

Skull sinks into the chair, his knees bumping into yours as he nearly slides off the seat in front of you, "Jok—"

You kick his foot before he could finish, causing him to yelp in surprise

"What was that for!?"

"What have I been saying? Don't call him that!"

"What am I supposed to call him then!"

"I don't know, Wild? Zero? Fool? Hell even just leader! Really anything but that!"

Violet cuts in before you can get off track from the main issue, "Uhm, why is saying his name a problem exactly? I assume this was never an issue before."

Oracle responds to her first, looking over the scans she got during the fight, "Any time someone said his name, everything went totally haywire. It's almost like they got rage boosted without any of the side affects and it multiplied each time."

You groan upon hearing that and lean onto Crow's shoulder, "Yeah, that's sounds about right. I hate the clowns here."

Crow gives you a side eye, but doesn't move to push you off or even uncross his arms, "You said you had an idea of our current location when we landed, so spill. Where are we, and what does it have to do with his code name?"

You don't want to think about it, the thought of having travelled through universes against your will again irritates you. Though, given the fact you all landed in a rundown amusement park where the walls are covered in laughing graffiti, and you were overrun by shadows dressed in bizzare purple and green clothes while laughing their asses off—Yeah there was no denying it.

"I think we're in DC—Gotham to be more specific. It's a fictional city made for DC Comics in my original universe."

You can feel Crow tense underneath you and the irritation coming off him in waves. The conversation going on at the front of the van ceases as Panther drapes herself over the back of her seat, "Wait—you're not serious right?"

Skull slumps further in his chair again, "Please say sike right now."

"Believe me I wish I was lying."

You then tell them everything you could remember about DC, which frankly wasn't much. You don't even know what continuity you've fallen into, so there's a lot of information that potentially doesn't matter. Not that you're able to remember enough of any story line to separate what happened where. The others grow more despondent and irritated when you get to Gotham in particular. It's bad enough to have somehow fallen into another universe and have to find a way back, but even worse when you know the city is regarded as "one of the worst fictional cities in media".

You're in the middle of explaining Bruce Wayne and his gaggle of kids when a thought comes across your mind, "Maybe if we could find Batman—"

You don't get to finish voicing it though, since the instant you said his name, the world around you went silent. The buzzing of the neon lights ceased and the few shadows lurking around the corners vanished. Not even the wind continued to blow. The oppressive atmosphere of this Mementos was lifted, but the quiet that followed wasn't comforting in the slightest.

Queen stops the van and all of you tensed up, expecting something to jump out at you at a moments notice. A shadow, maybe even a palace ruler. You don't think you'd even be surprised if it was Batman himself to rush at you from the darkness—coming at you like a demon just from calling his name. From what you could remember, that's how the citizens and criminals alike viewed him in Gotham. But nothing happened.

After a few minutes of sitting in anticipation, the atmosphere slowly shifts back to how it was before. With the threat of the Bat dying down, it goes back to viewing you as public enemy number one. If anything, the oppressiveness of the city has only doubled, as if it was offended you had the gal to warn them about a threat that wasn't actually there.

Oracle uncurls herself to check the readings of the surrounding area, "Note to self, don't say his name either. That seemed to make the shadows around here act up."

Noir rests her launcher in her lap, not letting go incase a shadow still jumps out at them, "Is this the same as saying our leader's name, or something different?"

"Like we activated hardcore mode. Unless we want to grind boss level enemies I think we should get out of here stat."

"Brilliant." Queen starts driving again then calls out you name to catch your attention, "Do you know the safest the safest place to exit the Metaverse?"

"Not many places are safe in Gotham, if any at all. We might just have to pick a spot and pray." You look through the window and grimace when you see nearly every alley filled to the brim with different types of shadows, "Though I recommend leaving this area first, unless you want to appear next to a mugger."

Fox stares out the window, trying to capture the scene of the city, "With this world's Mementos actively more depraved than ours, I wonder the depth of this cities turpitude."

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈✁━━━━━━━━━━━

You ended up exiting on top of some abandoned warehouse overlooking the waterside. It had the least amount of shadows in the area, and considering there was enough criminals in this place to actually have tangible effects on Mementos, Goro thought it would be relatively safe.

The feel of exiting the Metaverse is completely different here. Almost as if you're walking out of a wall of sludge, each limb heavy and barely able to move until you finally breach the surface. A few shiver at the feeling, and you see Morgana shaking around wildly. It also doesn't help that the air is still slightly chilly, but now that you're out of the Metaverse you're all equipped in your winter clothes. Despite the unideal conditions, no one speaks up to voice their complaints. It would be unwise to without making sure there isn't some underground deal going on around somewhere. Everyone splits in pairs to cover the roof and to overlook the surroundings, while Morgana takes the stairs down to see if there's anyone in the warehouse.

You slowly slide over to the edge of the building with Ann, avoiding stepping on any metal objects, broken glass, and generally just trying to leave as little of a mark as possible. Near the edge is the doorway to the stairs, and past that are air vents protruding from the wall and floor. This side of the roof is a complete mess of paper waste, plastic bags, and broken bottles, but there's at least no people here. Looking over the edge towards the city, it's hard to see much beyond the highway besides a few rooftops of taller buildings. To the right you can just see the top of a ferries wheel, it's clearly rotted and no doubt doesn't function—at least well—but now you know where you started.

"You see anything Ann?"

Her pigtails sway as she shakes her head, "Not really," she sounds disappointed as she walks over to you from where she was looking over the edge, "There's a park underneath the highway, and it looks pretty empty. It's in the direction of that creepy amusement park though, so I don't think going there's a good idea."

Her eyes suddenly dart to look behind you and she freezes. Her entire stance tenses as her eyes never looking away from whatever caught her attention, making you look back yourself and flinch.

Red Hood stands barely a meter away. His hands half-shoved into his pockets, with his dual pistols visibly holstered. Of course you run into a member of the Bat Family as soon as the opportunity presents itself, and of course he's one the the more violent of the bunch. If you didn't know any better you'd think the real city was still trying to evict you.

"Evening. Mind if I ask why a group of kids are hangin' around this empty building at the dead of night?"

The helmet distorts his voice so it sounds more mechanical, throwing you for a loop and unable to understand what he said before your brain catches up.

He's speaking in English.

You're almost embarrassed that you couldn't recognize it, but you'll blame that on speaking only in Japanese for more than a year and the awful audio distortion he has going on.

"We're just spending time together. When did hanging out become illegal?"

"Okay, better question," He leans towards you slightly, and you get the feeling he's glaring beneath that mask of his, "How'd you get on this roof in the first place?"

Ann steps in this time with an overly enthusiastic voice, "We uhh… took the stairs! How else would we have got up here?"

Of all the times you wished she could pull the miracle acting that she showed during Sae's Palace out of her ass, now is definitely one of those times… Not that it would help much since Red Hood is one of the best detectives in the world, but you might be able to survive the encounter.

He takes a step back to lean against the wall behind him and crosses his arms over his chest. It gives you both more room to breath, but despite his lax stance you know you wouldn't get anywhere if you tried to run.

Hood cocks his head to the side, humming before responding to Ann's earlier evasion, "Try again."

You and Ann share a glance, lost on what either of you should say. You're not about to tell him that you landed here from a different universe, drove your cat from the amusement park to here in a different reality, and used an app on your phones to switch to the normal world. Though you don't think he's going to leave you alone until he gets a more truthful answer.

Then he looks over to his right and holds his arm out as if beckoning someone closer, "If any of you can provide answers too, I'm all ears. It's not every day people appear out of thin air on deserted property."

You and Ann follow his line of sight to see Ren and Goro standing a few meters away. Both looking completely unaffected by his presence, with Ren acting completely laid back and Goro falling back into his prince persona. You assume the rest are close by and just out of sight.

Goro smiles, and speaks in a tone as light as air, perfectly tailored to be as inviting as possible, "We're just a little lost, and don't have the internet to check maps on our phones. We hoped coming to the roof would give us a better view to find something we'd remember"

He has a slight accent when he speaks, enough to make Red Hood's head tilt, but he still manages to capture enough charm that it shouldn't matter. It still unsettles you how easily he's able to slip back into this performance like a second skin, and how equally good Ren has gotten at acting indifferent to everything around him. Though as good as they are, Red Hood is still a world class detective.

It's a stare down for a while, and you're not entirely sure what to do about it. Red Hood only said "Is that so?" in reply to Goro's statement, before leaning against the wall and doing nothing. None of you know what you should do in this situation. Ann is about to say something despite the silent protests from everyone when the door suddenly swings open.

"Guys! One of the people we have to watch out for is in the building! He snuck up on me and tried to pick me up while—"

It's Morgana that busts through the door behind Red Hood, speaking irritably about something that happened while he was scouting, before coming to a full stop when he sees you're not alone up here.

"This your cat?"

Red Hood kneels to the floor with an outstretched arm, but Morgana only pins his ears against his head and backs away, jumping onto Ren's shoulder with a hiss.

"Pretty smart for one." He comes to his full height again, forgoing leaning against the wall to stand there with his hands in his pockets, "How'd you train him to do scouting missions for you?"

That makes all of you and Ann hesitate, and Morgana nearly pierces Ren's skin with how tightly he's holding onto him, but Goro doesn't falter. He rapidly blinks his eyes a few times before responding in the same tone he used earlier.

"Pardon me?"

That's when someone else walks through the door. His shorter stature and permanent scowl instantly recognizable as the Bat's latest—and most likely last Robin.

It's just your luck to get both of the incredibly violent ones on your ass isn't it?

His eyes lock onto Morgana and takes in his stance before directing his attention to Ren, "What training did your cat require to become as skilled as he is? I watched him open closed doors, lock picking one of them, and survey each room with intimate knowledge of stealth above that of a basic cats instincts."

Morgana face falls the longer Robin goes on, and Ren has to keep him still so he doesn't fall off or pounce on the kid. He struggles to come up with a reply though, as he's had much less use for memorizing much English outside of exams.

"… He's different?"

You let out a sigh and fight the urge to pinch the bridge of your nose, "This has gotten ridiculous."

Ann's in a very similar position to you, "Tell me about it."

It seems Robin heard your complaining, and snaps his head in your direction to retort in perfect Japanese, "If any of you could stop lying and evading our questions then we wouldn't still be here."

You're not surprised he can speak the language so fluently, with barely any hint of an accent as well, but his attitude is annoying.

Red Hood sighs, muttering under his breath about not taking the time to learn Japanese then addressing Robin, "Just tell me what they said afterwards."

There's no point in trying to avoid answering them any longer. If they're together, then who knows if the others are nearby. It wouldn't be hard for them to share information either if their own Oracle is currently on duty.

There goes any potential plan to lay low.

"You wouldn't believe us even if we told you."

Robin scoffs, thoroughly offended in the lack of faith but still tampering his anger, "We'll be the judge of that."

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈✁━━━━━━━━━━━

All anyone really wanted to divulge was that you were from another universe. Having the Bats help you get back was one of the best things you could hope for while in Gotham. Red Hood and Robin didn't exactly believe you though. They didn't not believe you, but they needed a little more evidence or to do their own investigation. You didn't want to give all of them your entire hand, but them going to the Bat and put you under surveillance wasn't ideal, so you silently agreed to bring them to the Metaverse. Doing it this way you could tell these two more info without it immediately going to anyone else in their coms.

Explaining the Metaverse was a more… difficult matter. With this being a different universe there's a lot of "at least, that's how it worked in our world" and firmly reiterating there's certain names they can't say, but it obvious you've caught their interest. Especially Red Hood's.

"Tell you what. We won't tell B-Man about this or how all of this works. In return," Red Hood, "We're using this to take down the clown."

To be honest, you want nothing to do with this universes Joker,

"There's no way we'd be able to keep this a secret from Sir. Vengeance."

"You're right," He's quick to agree, but doesn't change his stance, "That don't mean we gotta tell him what we're doing."

"He's gonna flip his lid."

"Who cares. He's always got a stick up his ass."

"We don't want any trouble with him."

"I won't let him give you shit."

You sigh and turn to the rest of your team, "The clown's a maniac. He's probably committed every crime under the sun, excluding becoming a Nazi. The world would be better if he changed, but… you've seen what Gotham thinks of that man's crew, you can imagine how much worse his palace would be." You look away, lost, "He's scum, and I don't really want to be close enough to even look at him, but if you want to, I stand by you no matter what."

The rest of the thieves all think it over before turning to Joker. Not wanting to make a hasty decision, he gestures to Robin for his opinion.

He shrugs his shoulders and replies with an almost bored tone, "I'm willing to go along with this plan. If what you say is true it's one pest forever off the streets. If not, then it's not like anyone would miss him."

Joker contemplates for a while before looking to Crow for his own opinion. He only receives an eye roll in return, so he holds out his hand towards Red Hood deciding to take up his offer.

Hood grasps Joker's hand in his before pulling him towards himself and holding him under his arm with a laugh, "Lookin forward to working with you."

you just made me realize one of the main reasons why i barely ever feel engaged w a lot of mark x reader fics omg, so many people on here characterize him as this of pliant “softboi” who can never do anything wrong bc he has trauma so much it feels like he’s an entire different person when they write him LOL no shade at all but if mark was as one dimensional and weak willed as ppl portray him as i genuinely wouldn’t like him like i do now 😭

INVINCIBLE SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT!!!!

oh my god YES you get it completely.

no shade to anyone, but you’re so right so many fics flatten him into this super soft, trauma-coded, shy, clumsy “yes man” version of mark, and it completely misses the core of who he actually is. yes, he struggles. yes, he’s emotional. but that doesn’t make him weak or passive. it makes him messy. it makes him reactive. and honestly, sometimes it makes him dangerous.

people forget that mark can and does do real damage. not in a harmless way, but in a way that hurts people because he leads with his heart and his instincts instead of thinking things through. he’s impulsive. he’s stubborn. he doesn’t just roll over when someone tells him what to do he fights back, even when it’s painful.

like when he literally gives up on heroism in the comics. not just because he’s mad at the GDA, but because he realizes the whole system he fought for is fundamentally broken, he wants to protect his family, and staying would mean betraying himself. that’s not some passive sadboy move. that’s a gut-wrenching, conscious choice to walk away from everything he thought he was supposed to be.

people really miss how mark is actually portrayed sexually too. the fandom loves making him this whiny, submissive mess in relationships, but if you actually read the comics? when he gets older, even in his late teens and early twenties, he’s way more confident. he’s not shy about wanting things, emotionally or physically. he initiates, he asks, he wants.

he's a man who likes sex, who gets good at it, and who is not afraid to get messy, greedy, needy and to give as much as he takes. no offense, but fandom keeps writing mark like he’s this shy, blushing bottom who falls apart if you touch him, and that’s not him at all. in the comics, he’s confident, physical, and not shy about wanting someone. he’s not some giggling teehee virgin or a trembling sub and he’s not a strict, cold dom either. he’s human. messy, eager, hungry. he fucks like he means it because he feels everything hard and real, not because he’s performing some kink stereotype.

it’s like people are scared of a guy who’s emotional and sexually aggressive/active in a healthy way, so they flatten him into some weird soft uwu caricature that has nothing to do with how he actually acts. mark is messy, he’s real, he’s passionate. but that’s who he is. he grows up. he’s allowed to want sex and have it without it being ooc.

he’s not some clueless virgin blushing at a kiss. dude would absolutely pin you down and ruin you with a stupid smile on his face.

and then there’s the Oliver and Allen fight one of the biggest proof that he’s not weak-willed at all. he literally goes against his own brother and friend to stop the release of the scourge virus, because he knows it’s wrong. he knows it would cause genocide, and even though it shatters his relationships, he still stands his ground. because that’s who mark is. he’s emotional, he’s stubborn, he screws up but when it matters most, he chooses what he believes is right, even if it costs him everything.

you can definitely tell when some fic writers either haven’t read the comics (which, fair, they’re long), or honestly haven’t even fully paid attention to the show. they just base him off a one-dimensional stereotype like he’s this helpless, submissive little softboy who needs protecting. and that’s just not mark grayson.

he’s layered. he’s messy. he’s a disaster sometimes. but he fights, and he grows, and that’s what makes him one of the best written characters out there.

i’m so glad this clicked for you too omg. same braincell, same emotional damage, same desperate need to defend comic/show mark’s honor forever <3 this ask had me going on a rant but i genuinely had to talk about it.. :)

black cat! reader and mark grayson have such a fun dynamic. equivelant to a certian web slinger and his love interest. you two are different, at least you think so from what Mark has told you about this hero he's met.

like every black cat, you meet your future little fling by being caught red handed where you don't belong, by Invincible. At a museum at night, after hours and dangling upside down to steal the supposed " Jewel of the Sea'. You look like a delicate thing to mark, pretty and suspended with greedy claws reaching for glistening jewel through the spaces of red lasers. you blend in with pretty art pieces and glistening chandeliers. you should be framed on the wall and admired for all to see.

course, like all black cats, you get hauled to jail that night when invincible breaks his trance of staring long enough to aprehend you far too easily. you give in, give up. you don't like fighting against pretty men or people like him. that boyish grin and dimples that are apparent when you purred against his chest, trapped wrists encircling around his neck while you bat pretty eyes. you try to convince him poorly to let you go, and not give you up. you'd rather spend a night in his bed and arrested by his hands, than by locked up behind bars.

red and blue police lights catch the red of your lipstick on the corner of his lips, the smear of makeup never comes off quite right as much as he rubs at it with his fist. invincible is glowing, a red hue covers his cheeks when you give him a wink behind the glossy cop car window.

a few days later, you'll be out. no bail gives you freedom, but your keen cat like intelligence and your stupid minions that managed to bust you out. it gives you enough time to plot your next encounter with your colorful superhero, and how you can get revenge for him ruining your museum heist.

00. spiderwocky ── kid-buggy

‎‎ㅤㅤplatonic | spiderverse x spiderman!reader x batfamily | ms. list

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤdisclaimers on masterlist!

index. prologue , chapter one , chapter two , chapter three ... to be continued. based on this

your head slams against the mech’s ceiling, and your vision blurs for a second. a troubled robotic voice keeps reading out statistics, leftwing engine down, visors breaking off, remaining web fluid at 17%, and enemy still engaged.

you have to wince, pushing your head against the whiplash, slamming a half-ripped off metal leg at the large metallic eyeball staring keenly in your direction. mysterio’s been trouble before but… you’ve gotten soft. 

a thin wisp of gas permeates the suit’s vents, and sp//dr’s robotic droning takes an almost human, frantic quality. “air quality has been compromised,” it hisses,  “(name), pulling out of battle is optimal.” you’ve got to ignore it, you think with strain, a thin string of web leaping out at the building behind mysterio, there are people in more danger than you.

pulling harshly on the string, you can hear the noisy clank of metal as the mech-suit’s arm bolts creak under the pressure, and propel yourself at the sphere. and you do it again, to the left, again, from the right, while sp//dr’s voice reads out the remaining fluid clerically.

"16%", slam it into the concrete building next to you, it makes a dent, "15%", swing it into a billboard, people are screaming, "14%", jump up into the sky on your- the suit’s- good leg, "13%" shoot out two strings to the ground besides mysterio-

"12%", slam him into the concrete, shattering the road under him. you’re running out of air. the sphere breaks a little, curling inwards like a cracked egg. you have to disarm mysterio- before he floods the streets with the brain toxin that-

that’s currently bypassed your filtration systems.

the suit takes a staggering step towards a boy inside the vessel, his head encompassed by a globe of white, a single eye etched and staring. you barely hear his “you’re taller in person”, more focused on another voice whispering to you.

 ‘make me nothing’, it says, it’s your father's voice. no, it’s sp//dr’s voice. a hand reaches up on its own, crushing a drone, ‘i’m a teenage weapon’. it’s your voice, your head, sp//dr. you can barely breathe, another hand sending a drone flying into the thin walls around you. "safe inside the colours", his face looks at you in pity, admiration. 

it’s a familiar look.

you stiffen, your mind clearing to sp//dr’s warnings. ‘i don’t need your love, boy.’ the suit’s arm slams against his skull, and he falls to the ground, with a strangled; “my voice!”. 

the brain toxin begins to leave your systems, flushed out by a steady, furious buzz in your ears, your vision clearing as you approach the man. his face is exposed, a bloody, spectacled and oat-haired figure. he croaks to you; “i hate my voice,” as though you’d care of it, “you don’t know me- i’m just a fan…”

his voice becomes shaky, and he’s struggling to blabber out his words. you’re tempted to web his mouth shut. “but i could have been anything to you…”

“did you ever get the mix-disc i made you?” he slurs, his cracked glasses breaking.

you don’t wake up with a jolt. there’s no chain of anxiety that hits you, no spider-sense going off. you’re well tucked under heavy covers when you open your eyes, rigid in your sleep. not in the suit, you haven’t been in it for a while. it’s sill broken, and you’re not… not at work. not right now.

it doesn’t feel natural waking up in the manor. you’ve been opening your eyes to the posters your roommate put up on your walls, insisting on brighter decor. grown used to waking to sounds of chatter, maybe the radio, or the school bell telling you were devastatingly late to class and would be reprimanded for it.

you’re not used to waking up to neat wallpaper in a dark, old room. in the house you’ve barely lived in, barely wanted to live in. wayne manor is a sad place, and you're suddenly glad they send you away for most of the year.

summer vacations are the most miserable time of the year, everyone being sent home or off on vacation with their parents until they come back for next term. all the time you're stuck going to a manor you don’t want to be in, in a city you’re close to hating, with people who’ve made it too obvious they don’t want you here. they never say it to your face. but you know well enough.

but- but this time it’s different. this break, you won’t go to trouble tim with a puzzle you’d hope would interest him, one he’d take from you with a nod, and never think about again. you won’t go watch jason sneak into the pantry from a distance, trying to muster up the courage to talk to him and inevitably fail each time, as he swiftly left again. you won’t even offer to ask alfred if you could help him tend to the garden, only for him to smile pitiably gently at you and ask you if you’d 'rather not spend your time having more fun elsewhere'.

this time, you have work. something to do. someone to be.

you take to sauntering awake to a little desk in the corner of the room at five? four? in the morning, and sliding the drawer open to pull out a thick and scrappy diary. you’ve been writing in this since they first sent you off, since you were nine. 

"SP//DR BOT" graces the page you flip to, in bright paint-marker-blue. the picture of a poorly sketched, vaguely-humanoid mecha-suit follows, on which you scrawl with a drying pen. for the last seven months you've had someone to be. so you'd best get to it; kid-buggy.

₊˚⊹ a/n : first fic i've planned up to completion,, let's hope all goes well!! let me know if you want to be in the taglist <3

prologue tags @sirenetheblogger @kenyummy @selvyyr

AAAAA THIS IS SO GOODDD FEED ME MORE /NF /POS

𓂃 ˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀𓂃𓈒 ᴀ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʟɪꜰᴇᴛɪᴍᴇ 𓈒𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖

˖⋆⑅˚₊𖧷 ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴅɢᴇʜᴏɢ x [ꜰᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ] ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

: ̗̀➛ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ ᴡᴀᴋᴇꜱ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴ ᴜɴᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ɪꜱ ɢʀᴇᴇᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴀ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟɪᴀʀ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ. ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰʟᴇᴇᴛɪɴɢ ᴛɪᴍᴇ, ꜱᴇᴘᴀʀᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴛʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ, ᴡɪʟʟ ʜᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ʀᴇᴀᴄʜ ʜᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰɪɴᴅ ʜᴇʀ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ?

: ̗̀➛ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ[ꜱ]: mild angst, fluff

: ̗̀➛ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.2k

➹ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: divider crdts: thecutestgrotto,strangergraphics

Shadow opened his eyes and squinted when the bright light greets his vision. The wind brushes through his fur, warm and welcoming. The grass pokes through his fur, cold and soft. The blinding light was then shrouded into a dim visage, leaves from the branches providing a veil. His head felt light as his body felt as though he had fallen into an endless pit of the nonexistent ground. 

“Finally awake, are we?” a soft voice spoke amidst the quiet, tranquil atmosphere. 

Shadow looked to meet a pair of warm and kind familiar eyes gazing back at him. Then slowly rises as if gravity was holding him down until he is in a sitting position. He places a hand against his head, processing the situation he is in. 

Shadow then finds himself asking, “How did I get here? Is this real? A dream?” he says as he looks at his gloved palm, trying to figure out whether he is dreaming or not, his mind still in shambles. He receives no answer so he turns his head to look at the person who he’s been trying to find ever since.. 

She only offered him a gentle smile as she stood up and held out a hand, indicating for him to take it. Shadow furrowed his brows, confused why she didn’t answer his question. He glances at her outstretched hand for seconds before he gives in and takes it in his. She gently pulls him up on his feet with a little giggle, the sound having Shadow even more befuddled at her antics. He knew she had always been a playful spirit in nature, but there was something peculiar in the layers of her mirthful demeanor. 

His eyes flickered to their still connected hands, and a fuzzy feeling suddenly poked inside him. Her hand felt comfortingly warm against his, but it vanished too soon when she let go of him. Shadow disregarded the feelings away as there were words that he needed to say, questions that needed to be answered. There was something foreseen in the air and the place he’s currently in, the leaves rustling, the winds whispering, all this was foreign to him. 

“What happened to you? Where are we and how come that you’re here?” the words slipped from him, his voice steady. 

But to his disappointment, the girl still had not provided him any reply, not even a single hint to make him understand what was going on. Though there was a little movement in her one ear and an unreadable glint in her eyes. Still, Shadow started to grow impatient at her incessant silence and narrowed his eyes.

“Why won’t you answer me?” Still no word from her as she blinked at him. He only sighed in defeat and shook his head. 

“At least tell me,” he says again, slow and restless; the one he’s been wanting to say ever since he woke up and her being the first thing he sees in his awakening. “If you’re alright.” 

And she finally responded with a nod as an answer to him. At least he was convinced that she wasn’t going to give him the silent treatment all day. Relief washed over him but the contradiction of her actions dwelled, the simple gesture not enough to sustain his intuition towards her.

Suddenly, she held out her hand again and curled them into fist. Shadow arches one brow, confused. A knowing smile finds its way to her lips again, a lilt in them. She repeats the same notion again and starts to slowly back away from him. Shadow, still left in the dark, wondered what she was trying to do until something finally jogged up into his head. 

Oh. 

It was the gesture between them of which she had created, a game probably, where she wanted him to follow her along. He always disliked them as he found them utterly ridiculous, such activity is not for him to partake in his nature. But there was nothing stopping the girl from always gesturing for him to do so, until he finds himself eventually giving in to her wiles.

 He rumbles a grunt in his chest. It’s not like he can’t do anything else at this point. There was nothing else in this world he’s currently in; just him and her. 

He finds himself taking a step forward, mindlessly, as the girl gets farther away from him. Then another step, and another, then his walks turn into a jog, until he’s following after her footsteps. He heard her laugh, the sound distant yet harmonic, echoing throughout the fields and into the trees, as both of them ran through the forest. For a moment, Shadow felt strangely at ease, a weight being taken off from his shoulders, a knot being tied loose. It’s like he could relive this moment for as long as he could.

With her. 

Her silhouette drifted to and fro in Shadow’s vision, like a pure enact of a nymph vanishing and appearing in the eyes of a lost wanderer, her laughs that sound of a melodic chant that lures them in. 

Shadow kept jogging after her, a rush of light adrenaline rushing through his veins, his heart starting to palpitate against his chest. No matter how close he got to her, she seemed to simply outran him with a lighthearted laugh. Perhaps she could be a potential opponent in terms of racing in the future.

Until they both slowly skidded to a stop when they reached the opening of the forest. A vast greenery land, garnished with a plethora of florals in various shades of color. The wind blew them as they danced along with its gust, a cascade of warm light upon the sky, the sun gleaming through the thinly veiled clouds that waltzes by. The girl lets out a breath of relief, closing her eyes as she relishes in the breeze, calming her nerves from the previous running. Shadow having no need to rest since he’s accustomed to it, as what he was created for in immune exhaustion for a little activity such as this one. 

After what seemed like a long time, at last out of breath, she said in the air, “I missed that.” 

Shadow looks at her and huffs, crossing his arms against his chest. “Decided to finally speak?” 

She turns around to meet his red, sharp eyes and links her hands behind her. “I’m sorry,” she smiles woefully at him as she continues, “I couldn’t risk them hearing us. The aura was too exposed at the place we were in.” 

Them? 

Shadow’s eyes taper in puzzlement. “What are you talking about? What do you mean by them? Just what is going on in this place?” The questions came flooding out once again, brick by brick of his burning curiosity sending him to the edge. 

The girl hums, lifting her head up to look at the clear sky and closes her eyes. “Dilly dally shilly shally. Why worry about a thing when you’re in the safest place you’ve ever been?” She says in a sing-sang voice, her gaze returning to him.

Shadow could only stare at her in pure bewilderment, baffled nonetheless. He has known her for a long appropriate period of time, and he never thought there will be a time where her character strangely feels out of ordinary, would ever ignite a sense of uncertainty in him. The way she was acting just does not sit right with him. What if she’s not real? Posing as an imposter to deceive him? What if something did happen to her and what all he’s seeing now is all the remains of who she once was? 

“Hey..” she softly calls out and Shadow instanly breaks from his clouded, dire trance. His attention diverted towards her and she was smiling reassuringly at him. “Don’t think about it so deeply or you might lose yourself.” 

Shadow breathes as if he’s been holding his breath the entire time. “I’m,” he starts, strain barely audible in his deep voice, “I have no idea what’s going on, especially with you. You’ve been gone for days and now, I woke up in a strange place and you’re the first person I see in it,” he trails for a moment and averted his eyes away in frustration, the mixed emotions he held in and suppressed, was slowly pouring out of him. “How do I even know if you’re her? That you’re real? Damn it, Rouge is worried about you. Omega can’t keep his machines from stirring every second whenever he mentions where you could be or how you were.”

This feeling in him, one that he’s repressing, foreign yet known. That feeling whenever he’s around her, although he tries to discard it away, it keeps coming back as if it has already been part of him from the very start. 

Silence came. None of them said a word as they stood in the meadow, nowhere, where both of them were the only living things that existed. The wind whispers amongst the trees, flowers partaking along. 

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes for the second time. Shadow huffs disapprovingly and presses his hand against his forehead, shrouding his eyes. “Is that all you can say?” he retorts in her way. 

He heard footsteps and the rustle of grass coming onto his way and before he knew it, he felt a warm, tender touch in his cheek. Taken aback, he whisks his head towards her, steel red eyes widening at the sudden close contact between them. No one had ever touched him like this before. Not since Maria. The sensation melted through him, a river of longing and ache running through his bloodstream. Her eyes that held his gleamed in sincere remorse and kindness combined that caused his heart to skip a beat. 

“I mean it,” she merely said to him as she smiled. 

There was an urge but Shadow resisted to act on it. The urge to take her hand, hold it against his, and never let her go; that she will never be taken from him again. 

So he chose to close his eyes and leaned into her touch and felt her hand stiffened the slightest against his cheek, surprised at his action before it relaxed. 

“Where are you?” Shadow utters quietly, a voice he didn’t think himself would possess. 

“I’m right here. I always have been.”

Her touch slips away too soon, like a silk coming free. Her warmth vanishes from him, leaving a trail of her touch lingering on his fur. 

“Tell me where you are,” said the dark hedgehog, his voice now serious and determined. The soon those words slipped from him, his surroundings started to dissipate into wisps like thin smoke. Alerted, Shadow quickly looks around as he witnesses the place he’s been in, the once calm field is gradually turning into disoriented images. Shadow cursed under his breath. 

When he looked for her, she was only a gap away from him, the smile etched on her face bordering between sadness and reassurance. “Don’t come for me.”

The world disintegrates further like a fire burning into cinder. With her words triggering something inside of Shadow, he sprints towards her yet before he could reach her, the gravity pulled him away. He struggled against the invisible force, outstretching his hand to her in desperation, weariness that ever glinted in his stone red eyes. 

“I will find you,” he shouts, the pressure in his chest and body urging him on as he attempts to break through the webs of gravity pulling them apart , “and I will come for you wherever you may be! I promise!” 

Then everything went to black with her face being the last thing he saw as he was pulled into vast darkness. 

Shadow’s eyes opened and groaned when he felt a throbbing sensation in his head. This was really getting tiring as of late now. It was only then he realized had fallen asleep against the wall. He looked around and saw Rouge still asleep on Omega’s arms, papers and pen scattered around the floor, walls imprinted on the wall. 

And his mind drifted to her. His head fell against his hands as his shoulder tenses while his jaw clenched. The hopelessness of not knowing of her whereabouts, her state, not even a single clue. The slow agony of the possibility of losing another person dear to him, someone he cherishes so deeply, Shadow had felt this kind of feeling before and it was happening once again. 

His fingers dug into his quills as he tried to compose himself. Now is not the time to despair. What matters is that he dreamt of her just as she dreamt of him, their subconsciousness connecting together, a sign that she had reached out for him just as he was trying to. It was a foretelling fortune, a sliver of hope. 

“I will find you,” he repeats again, just like he did to her in his dream. Whoever or what took her away from him, he swore on his grave that he is going to end their life. The one thing he cherishes that has been stolen from him, will not have an easy end in their face of death. 

𓂃 ˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀𓂃𓈒 ᴀ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʟɪꜰᴇᴛɪᴍᴇ 𓈒𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖

˖⋆⑅˚₊𖧷 ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴅɢᴇʜᴏɢ x [ꜰᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ] ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

: ̗̀➛ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ ᴡᴀᴋᴇꜱ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴ ᴜɴᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ɪꜱ ɢʀᴇᴇᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴀ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟɪᴀʀ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ. ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰʟᴇᴇᴛɪɴɢ ᴛɪᴍᴇ, ꜱᴇᴘᴀʀᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴛʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ, ᴡɪʟʟ ʜᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ʀᴇᴀᴄʜ ʜᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰɪɴᴅ ʜᴇʀ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ?

: ̗̀➛ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ[ꜱ]: mild angst, fluff

: ̗̀➛ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.2k

➹ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: divider crdts: thecutestgrotto,strangergraphics

Shadow opened his eyes and squinted when the bright light greets his vision. The wind brushes through his fur, warm and welcoming. The grass pokes through his fur, cold and soft. The blinding light was then shrouded into a dim visage, leaves from the branches providing a veil. His head felt light as his body felt as though he had fallen into an endless pit of the nonexistent ground. 

“Finally awake, are we?” a soft voice spoke amidst the quiet, tranquil atmosphere. 

Shadow looked to meet a pair of warm and kind familiar eyes gazing back at him. Then slowly rises as if gravity was holding him down until he is in a sitting position. He places a hand against his head, processing the situation he is in. 

Shadow then finds himself asking, “How did I get here? Is this real? A dream?” he says as he looks at his gloved palm, trying to figure out whether he is dreaming or not, his mind still in shambles. He receives no answer so he turns his head to look at the person who he’s been trying to find ever since.. 

She only offered him a gentle smile as she stood up and held out a hand, indicating for him to take it. Shadow furrowed his brows, confused why she didn’t answer his question. He glances at her outstretched hand for seconds before he gives in and takes it in his. She gently pulls him up on his feet with a little giggle, the sound having Shadow even more befuddled at her antics. He knew she had always been a playful spirit in nature, but there was something peculiar in the layers of her mirthful demeanor. 

His eyes flickered to their still connected hands, and a fuzzy feeling suddenly poked inside him. Her hand felt comfortingly warm against his, but it vanished too soon when she let go of him. Shadow disregarded the feelings away as there were words that he needed to say, questions that needed to be answered. There was something foreseen in the air and the place he’s currently in, the leaves rustling, the winds whispering, all this was foreign to him. 

“What happened to you? Where are we and how come that you’re here?” the words slipped from him, his voice steady. 

But to his disappointment, the girl still had not provided him any reply, not even a single hint to make him understand what was going on. Though there was a little movement in her one ear and an unreadable glint in her eyes. Still, Shadow started to grow impatient at her incessant silence and narrowed his eyes.

“Why won’t you answer me?” Still no word from her as she blinked at him. He only sighed in defeat and shook his head. 

“At least tell me,” he says again, slow and restless; the one he’s been wanting to say ever since he woke up and her being the first thing he sees in his awakening. “If you’re alright.” 

And she finally responded with a nod as an answer to him. At least he was convinced that she wasn’t going to give him the silent treatment all day. Relief washed over him but the contradiction of her actions dwelled, the simple gesture not enough to sustain his intuition towards her.

Suddenly, she held out her hand again and curled them into fist. Shadow arches one brow, confused. A knowing smile finds its way to her lips again, a lilt in them. She repeats the same notion again and starts to slowly back away from him. Shadow, still left in the dark, wondered what she was trying to do until something finally jogged up into his head. 

Oh. 

It was the gesture between them of which she had created, a game probably, where she wanted him to follow her along. He always disliked them as he found them utterly ridiculous, such activity is not for him to partake in his nature. But there was nothing stopping the girl from always gesturing for him to do so, until he finds himself eventually giving in to her wiles.

 He rumbles a grunt in his chest. It’s not like he can’t do anything else at this point. There was nothing else in this world he’s currently in; just him and her. 

He finds himself taking a step forward, mindlessly, as the girl gets farther away from him. Then another step, and another, then his walks turn into a jog, until he’s following after her footsteps. He heard her laugh, the sound distant yet harmonic, echoing throughout the fields and into the trees, as both of them ran through the forest. For a moment, Shadow felt strangely at ease, a weight being taken off from his shoulders, a knot being tied loose. It’s like he could relive this moment for as long as he could.

With her. 

Her silhouette drifted to and fro in Shadow’s vision, like a pure enact of a nymph vanishing and appearing in the eyes of a lost wanderer, her laughs that sound of a melodic chant that lures them in. 

Shadow kept jogging after her, a rush of light adrenaline rushing through his veins, his heart starting to palpitate against his chest. No matter how close he got to her, she seemed to simply outran him with a lighthearted laugh. Perhaps she could be a potential opponent in terms of racing in the future.

Until they both slowly skidded to a stop when they reached the opening of the forest. A vast greenery land, garnished with a plethora of florals in various shades of color. The wind blew them as they danced along with its gust, a cascade of warm light upon the sky, the sun gleaming through the thinly veiled clouds that waltzes by. The girl lets out a breath of relief, closing her eyes as she relishes in the breeze, calming her nerves from the previous running. Shadow having no need to rest since he’s accustomed to it, as what he was created for in immune exhaustion for a little activity such as this one. 

After what seemed like a long time, at last out of breath, she said in the air, “I missed that.” 

Shadow looks at her and huffs, crossing his arms against his chest. “Decided to finally speak?” 

She turns around to meet his red, sharp eyes and links her hands behind her. “I’m sorry,” she smiles woefully at him as she continues, “I couldn’t risk them hearing us. The aura was too exposed at the place we were in.” 

Them? 

Shadow’s eyes taper in puzzlement. “What are you talking about? What do you mean by them? Just what is going on in this place?” The questions came flooding out once again, brick by brick of his burning curiosity sending him to the edge. 

The girl hums, lifting her head up to look at the clear sky and closes her eyes. “Dilly dally shilly shally. Why worry about a thing when you’re in the safest place you’ve ever been?” She says in a sing-sang voice, her gaze returning to him.

Shadow could only stare at her in pure bewilderment, baffled nonetheless. He has known her for a long appropriate period of time, and he never thought there will be a time where her character strangely feels out of ordinary, would ever ignite a sense of uncertainty in him. The way she was acting just does not sit right with him. What if she’s not real? Posing as an imposter to deceive him? What if something did happen to her and what all he’s seeing now is all the remains of who she once was? 

“Hey..” she softly calls out and Shadow instanly breaks from his clouded, dire trance. His attention diverted towards her and she was smiling reassuringly at him. “Don’t think about it so deeply or you might lose yourself.” 

Shadow breathes as if he’s been holding his breath the entire time. “I’m,” he starts, strain barely audible in his deep voice, “I have no idea what’s going on, especially with you. You’ve been gone for days and now, I woke up in a strange place and you’re the first person I see in it,” he trails for a moment and averted his eyes away in frustration, the mixed emotions he held in and suppressed, was slowly pouring out of him. “How do I even know if you’re her? That you’re real? Damn it, Rouge is worried about you. Omega can’t keep his machines from stirring every second whenever he mentions where you could be or how you were.”

This feeling in him, one that he’s repressing, foreign yet known. That feeling whenever he’s around her, although he tries to discard it away, it keeps coming back as if it has already been part of him from the very start. 

Silence came. None of them said a word as they stood in the meadow, nowhere, where both of them were the only living things that existed. The wind whispers amongst the trees, flowers partaking along. 

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes for the second time. Shadow huffs disapprovingly and presses his hand against his forehead, shrouding his eyes. “Is that all you can say?” he retorts in her way. 

He heard footsteps and the rustle of grass coming onto his way and before he knew it, he felt a warm, tender touch in his cheek. Taken aback, he whisks his head towards her, steel red eyes widening at the sudden close contact between them. No one had ever touched him like this before. Not since Maria. The sensation melted through him, a river of longing and ache running through his bloodstream. Her eyes that held his gleamed in sincere remorse and kindness combined that caused his heart to skip a beat. 

“I mean it,” she merely said to him as she smiled. 

There was an urge but Shadow resisted to act on it. The urge to take her hand, hold it against his, and never let her go; that she will never be taken from him again. 

So he chose to close his eyes and leaned into her touch and felt her hand stiffened the slightest against his cheek, surprised at his action before it relaxed. 

“Where are you?” Shadow utters quietly, a voice he didn’t think himself would possess. 

“I’m right here. I always have been.”

Her touch slips away too soon, like a silk coming free. Her warmth vanishes from him, leaving a trail of her touch lingering on his fur. 

“Tell me where you are,” said the dark hedgehog, his voice now serious and determined. The soon those words slipped from him, his surroundings started to dissipate into wisps like thin smoke. Alerted, Shadow quickly looks around as he witnesses the place he’s been in, the once calm field is gradually turning into disoriented images. Shadow cursed under his breath. 

When he looked for her, she was only a gap away from him, the smile etched on her face bordering between sadness and reassurance. “Don’t come for me.”

The world disintegrates further like a fire burning into cinder. With her words triggering something inside of Shadow, he sprints towards her yet before he could reach her, the gravity pulled him away. He struggled against the invisible force, outstretching his hand to her in desperation, weariness that ever glinted in his stone red eyes. 

“I will find you,” he shouts, the pressure in his chest and body urging him on as he attempts to break through the webs of gravity pulling them apart , “and I will come for you wherever you may be! I promise!” 

Then everything went to black with her face being the last thing he saw as he was pulled into vast darkness. 

Shadow’s eyes opened and groaned when he felt a throbbing sensation in his head. This was really getting tiring as of late now. It was only then he realized had fallen asleep against the wall. He looked around and saw Rouge still asleep on Omega’s arms, papers and pen scattered around the floor, walls imprinted on the wall. 

And his mind drifted to her. His head fell against his hands as his shoulder tenses while his jaw clenched. The hopelessness of not knowing of her whereabouts, her state, not even a single clue. The slow agony of the possibility of losing another person dear to him, someone he cherishes so deeply, Shadow had felt this kind of feeling before and it was happening once again. 

His fingers dug into his quills as he tried to compose himself. Now is not the time to despair. What matters is that he dreamt of her just as she dreamt of him, their subconsciousness connecting together, a sign that she had reached out for him just as he was trying to. It was a foretelling fortune, a sliver of hope. 

“I will find you,” he repeats again, just like he did to her in his dream. Whoever or what took her away from him, he swore on his grave that he is going to end their life. The one thing he cherishes that has been stolen from him, will not have an easy end in their face of death. 

The Misteryous Visitor IV

Batfamily x batsis (platonic!)

Synopsis: Bruce finally confronts Damian, and hates how tonight's events seemed to turn out just to remind him what a terrible father he is. He felt like he didn't deserve you, and he wanted at all costs to avenge the injustice Talia committed with you two.

Warnings: Family discussion; maternal overprotection; Bruce has psychiatric problems and is mentally unstable, besides being very angry; mentions depression, post-traumatic stress and the like.

Word count: 3.7k

Note: I apologize for taking so long to post the fourth part. I was looking for inspiration to continue in other fandoms. Now I feel engaged again to continue posting

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV

"She is not a secret." Damian tried to sound firm, looking Bruce in the eyes to avoid suspicion. But no matter what he did or how long he tried to maintain the lie, his father had already decided what to think about this enigmatic and strange situation.

"Hmm..." He let out a disheartened murmur, and the boy never thought something like this would happen, but he frowned with worry as he saw Bruce pour another drink. It wasn't like his father to act this way.

When Damian first met him in person at ten years old, he could have sworn Bruce and Talia were somewhat enjoying themselves that day, even with the barbs hidden in some exchanged sentences. Or maybe he was mistaken; after all, it had been so long. Perhaps he had preserved a false memory.

"How much have you drunk?" The boy asked with a disdainful voice, trying to hide that he was truly concerned.

"Why have you never talked about her? She is your sister, Damian." Bruce ignored the question but in a kind of silent acknowledgment, he rested the glass on the side table, preventing himself from getting drunk.

"Why are you acting like this? As if it's a big deal." He made a face of confusion. "Why do you care so much about this? She isn't even your problem. I won't stay here being interrogated because of her." Damian got up, taking hurried steps to the front door. He was running away, and he knew it.

"Where are you going?" Bruce stood to follow him, finally showing some kind of emotion beyond stoicism since they had been alone in the room.

"I'm going to wait for my mother outside. And when she appears, I'll come back to fetch S/n. Then you won't have to see her anymore, ever again." Damian said, and although Bruce didn't know if in the last part his son was referring to you or Talia, he didn't dare ask for the detail.

"Why didn't you ask any of us for help when you found out she was missing? If she is someone so close to you, you could have talked to us." Bruce was speaking in that strange way again, like when he found out Jason was the Red Hood. He was hurt, and as if a whistle had snapped in his mind, Damian understood that his father was like this because of him. It wasn't Talia or how she always ended up causing problems; it was him. "You hid from me that you were still talking to your mother."

"And did I need to inform you that I talk to my mother?" The boy tried to maintain a haughty tone, repressing the urge to shout so that Bruce wouldn't see his conflicting feelings.

The truth is that it hurt to lie like this. It hurt even more to lie to you. Damian didn't show or openly say what he felt; his mother once told him that was weakness, but honestly, now he was disgusted with himself.

"You didn't need to inform me, but you made an effort to hide it!" Bruce didn't shout. His voice was grave, authoritative, and deep down had a tone of betrayal that had twice the impact of a shout. He seemed to reflect on something, and patiently Damian awaited a lamentable outburst, but just as he himself would do, Bruce was avoiding becoming emotional.

"I don't understand why, but you came to live with me and seemed to exclude her from your life because of us. She is your sister and didn't even know I am your father! You sent letters, which I'm sure you hid not just from me but from her too. And she ended up here in the middle of the night like a fugitive. Will you tell me again that all this has no reason?"

"Even if there were a reason, it wouldn't be your business." The young man replied harshly, and once again: it was a lie. It was his business. Seeing Bruce's angry scowl turn into a defeated look made one of his fingers tremble. Realizing only after saying something that what he did was wrong made a panic arise in his chest.

Bruce sat back in the armchair, giving up on the discussion once and for all. He felt so stupid for thinking he was succeeding in freeing his son from the League of Assassins' clutches, that he was doing a good job showing him he didn't need the blind loyalty Talia taught him to have. He feared that Damian would succumb to a villain's life, exactly as Ra's al Ghul wanted Bruce to be: cruel and ruthless.

Talia stirred bad reactions in him, and his sense of justice hammered in his head. How could he simply hand you back into her hands after you came here tonight? That woman was a bad influence on anyone, and it didn't matter if you were her daughter; you were a child. And wasn't that what he did with all his children? Took them from the streets and bad parents?

He wanted to vomit at the idea of allowing you to continue being raised by someone like her, among those people, but if he couldn't even change Damian, what could he do for you? Bruce couldn't force you to stay, but at the same time, he grappled with the internal conflict of corroborating that one day you would become like those people. He is Batman, his duty is to protect. He should protect you too.

Bruce rubbed his eyes, feeling an intense headache and he day was already dawning again"Your mother isn't coming, Damian." He asserted, noticing that a long time had passed since they started waiting, getting up to return to his own room.

"You said we had a lot to talk about." Suddenly, the boy felt the need to prolong the conversation, if this could even be considered a conversation. It was as if they would never speak again if he allowed his father to leave.

"We don't anymore." Was cold, and that made the boy swallow hard. Bruce knew he would regret being so harsh, but at that moment, he wasn't thinking straight. The rational part of his brain was being dominated by his impulsive side.

Bruce opened his bedroom door with unusual violence. Lately, these episodes of anger were frequent, perhaps due to interrupted sleep; this damned insomnia was worse than in the last months. Alfred had already suggested he see a psychiatrist, but Bruce was sure he would leave there with a worse diagnosis than expected, so he avoided it as much as possible.

The butler once dared to mention that he might have some type of post-traumatic stress, but Bruce was stubborn and that led to an argument. He was a controlled man, but that day he shouted. The reaction was not unexpected, considering the tension from the chaos Scarecrow was causing in the city at the time, but Alfred was observant and knew the problems went beyond that.

The death of his parents was a delicate subject, and combined with the pressure of being Batman, Alfred saw Bruce become more obsessive, anxious, and even depressed over the years. Fortunately, the emergence of Dick was a break in the sad loneliness for him. And then came Jason, Tim, Damian, and things improved for a while, but the relapses still existed.

Bruce sighed as he admired his bed, wishing he could sleep again, but knowing he wouldn't be able to without taking another dose of pills, which certainly wasn't an option. Then he noticed your coat there. The garment had been left in his room, carefully placed on the arm of the room's couch.

He walked over and picked up the coat, rubbing the soft fabric with melancholy and noting how well-kept the garment was. It would probably be a good idea to return it to you; Would also be an opportunity to check if you were well accommodated.

Cautiously, he walked to the guest wing. Bruce thought he would need to check the rooms one by one to discover where Alfred had placed you, but a beam of light leaking from one of the doors indicated which one. He hesitated to turn the knob; it felt too intrusive. So, he knocked: three soft taps on the wood. He waited a few seconds, but you didn't come to open it, and he gave in to the act of opening it himself.

In slow movements, he leaned to look inside the room, without entering yet and checking if everything was okay. He saw your figure well wrapped in the covers, eyes closed and breathing in a consistent rhythm. You were sleeping, and the light he saw was the bedside lamp.

He entered, doing everything to control his steps, going to a chair to place the coat there. He felt the need to be gentle with the garment for some reason, handling the coat with such care, as if holding you in his hands.

He was envious of how pleasant your sleep seemed, wishing he could sleep like that too. He thought of turning off the lamp, but regretted it when he saw that his act interrupted your sleep. As soon as everything went dark, he heard the rustle of the covers, signaling that you had woken up. You stayed still for a while, staring at the shadow in front of you, knowing someone was there but too embarrassed to ask who it was, until the light was turned back on and you saw Mr. Wayne.

"Sorry, I think I woke you," he said softly, genuinely feeling guilty. "I brought your coat. I left it to dry better; it's still a bit wet," he continued, gesturing towards the chair.

"Thank you, Mr. Wayne," you replied groggily due to the minutes you spent sleeping. Thinking he would leave, you clasped your hands as if praying and placed them under your cheek on the pillow. A common but funny position.

"Call me just Bruce," he sat on the edge of the bed, looking at your face. He had a question stuck in his throat and thought it would be a good idea to start a conversation. "Are you okay?"

"I am. Thank you for letting me sleep at your house." you answered serenely, and he nodded in agreement. "And you?" You asked back. Bruce blinked, surprised by your question, realizing that your eyes were shining. The truth is he couldn't say how he felt, so he said what anyone would say: 

"Yes, I'm okay," he said, more focused on your face, knowing you might be uncomfortable with that but wanting to see you better. 

“Can I ask you something?” He seemed anxious, and you waited expectantly in silence, which he took as a yes. “Why did your mother separate you two like that? Why didn’t she tell you anything?”

You stared at a random spot on the mattress, feeling a pang in your chest at the memory. “She did, in a way. Mom doesn’t like you very much, Mr. Wayne. I think that’s why,” you said, looking back at him, seeing him raise his eyebrows in amusement; you corrected yourself with a gasp: “Bruce.”

“Did she speak badly of me to you?” Bruce was curious like a silly child, even though a serious scowl was etched on his face.

“Not exactly about you. Mom and Grandpa hate Batman.” By this point, you had already figured it out. It wasn’t hard to connect the dots between your family and Robin with him after a few minutes of reflection. “It’s you, isn’t it?”

Bruce let out a dry laugh, caught off guard. “Yes, it’s me,” he confirmed, and you shifted to sit more upright on the bed, excited.

“Is it true that you killed the Joker?” Your question made Bruce’s scowl turn puzzled. So that was the kind of rumor circulating.

“No, I didn’t kill him. He just... disappeared one day,” the same day Bruce thought he had lost Jason, and although deep down he wanted very much to have done it, he didn’t find it appropriate to admit that to you.

“I’m confused,” your voice became more relaxed, he thought it was due to the casual tone the conversation was taking. “If Damian is Robin now, what happened to the other one? He didn’t die, did he?” You asked the last question in a whisper, fearing it was true.

Bruce laughed at this. He had never thought about how people assumed Robin was a single person all these years. “No, he’s fine. You’d be surprised if I told you five different people have been Robin.”

Your eyes widened, and suddenly you remembered a detail: “There was a girl, wasn’t there? I remember seeing some photos in an old newspaper.”

Bruce was perplexed at how much you seemed to know about him, but in a good way. “Yes, there was a girl. She’s Batgirl now,” when he said that, your smile widened even more. It seemed like you were a secret fan, he would say, since in your own words: "Talia hates him" and Bruce knows she would hardly allow you to have such admiration.

But your smile faded, and that worried him for a moment until you spoke: “I didn’t know that man was Hugo Strange,” you looked at him with regret. “If I had known, I would have caught him for you.”

“Would you?” He asked, doubting you really could.

“Well... I would have tried,” you defended yourself, shrugging your shoulders.

“Very brave. But it’s good you didn’t do anything,” he said playfully, stopping to think for a moment. “S/n, what did he tell you?”

He saw you wrinkle your nose in a grimace before answering. “I thought we met by chance. I was walking and saw a man smoking a cigarette on a corner. I was going to walk past, but then he asked if I needed help.”

“Which corner?”

“I don’t know, but it wasn’t far from home. I was trying to figure out the street on a map I found in the municipal library’s phone book,” you sighed, frustrated at not being able to give the information. “I ignored him, but he followed me. I got scared and started running, but he said he was a cop, so I trusted him.”

“Did he have a police car nearby?”

“He said he was undercover. But I don’t know what that means; I thought it was the same as being off duty.”

“It could mean that too.” Bruce saw your guilty expression, your lip trembling and your hands nervous.

“You don’t need to feel bad for believing him,” his larger hand enveloped both of yours like they were nothing. They were warm, and it was comforting. “I know Damian said horrible things, but he speaks in the heat of the moment.”

“They’re not in the heat of the moment... He never just speaks,” your voice dropped so low it was almost inaudible. Your eyes burned, but there were no tears. Crying for your brother would be the last thing you would do again. “What was in the box?”

“What box?” He was confused by your sudden change of subject.

“Didn’t Dick give it to you?” You asked, feeling his hand move away from yours and touch his left pocket. What Dick had given him was a card and not a box. Maybe he had taken what was inside. “I guess he forgot.”

“No. He didn’t forget,” he quickly responded, snapping out of a stupor. A curiosity grew in his chest, a need to know what was in that card.

Bruce fumbled in the pocket where the card still was and pulled it out. He quickly examined the paper, turning it over to check the back for anything. For a long time, his voice was muffled, and Bruce could only hear a buzzing in his ear. It was impossible for those words to have any real meaning. His breathing became loud and shaky, as if he were in the cold, and you were startled to see his eyes blinking frantically.

“Are you okay?” You moved to approach him, seeing moisture suddenly form on his forehead. It was cold sweat.

“How is this possible?” You heard him ask himself, bringing his fingertips to his eyes, rubbing them to make sure he was really seeing. That card had left him unsettled, you realized, and hesitantly, you tried to take it from his hands to remove it from him, but his grip tightened at the feel of your fingers, so tight that it completely crumpled the paper. “Sorry. It’s nothing,” he stammered, seeing that the abrupt movement had scared you.

He got up from the bed, completely oblivious to you or anything else now. He staggered before reaching the door, very disturbed and seeming out of it. Maybe it was you who did something wrong and didn’t realize it?

He didn’t seem fit to walk, so you quickly removed the covers from your legs and went to him, supporting and guiding him to the chair where he had left his coat. He was very heavy, but he was so disoriented that he went limp. He seemed so shaken that he didn’t protest and simply sat there. You stood in front of him for a few seconds, not knowing what else to do to help him.

“Shouldn’t I call someone?” You asked.

“Dick,” he mumbled without looking at you, and that worried. It seemed intentional, as if it was too difficult to face you.

“Where do I find him?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking of something, but Damian’s voice on the other side of the door caught his attention:

“S/n, open the door.” You stood still, recognizing your brother’s voice, until he continued: “Mom is here. She’s going to take you home,” he said as a warning, opening the door after a moment without even asking. “Come on. Why are you standing there like a statue?”

He was perplexed when you didn’t respond, and then he noticed his father sitting beside you in terror.

“Dad?” He approached, kneeling to assess the severity. He was having another episode. Lately, Bruce had only been getting worse every day and still refused to ask for help.

“What happened?” Your brother turned to you, but your face already showed that you had no idea.

Damian tried to place his hand on his shoulder, but Bruce pushed it away aggressively. Your father would never act like this just because of the argument they had before, much less give him a venomous look as he did now, but beneath it all, there was hurt. He had found out about you, somehow.

He should have felt bad about how the news seemed to have been revealed, but he was relieved not to have to lie anymore. At the same time, he regretted choosing to cater to his mother’s whims once again, deceiving his father this way. But the omission had grown so much over the years he spent in the mansion and, after so long, it didn’t matter when he told him, the damage was already done.

Bruce wasn’t in a perfect mental state. He wouldn’t react like this normally, and knowing that, the man felt pathetic in front of the two of you.

“He asked for Dick,” you said to Damian, giving him space to breathe by stepping back.

“Forget Dick,” Bruce replied firmly, surprising. In an instant, he had a fit, and as quickly as he entered this state, he left it. Now, he seemed furious. “Where is she?”

This was a ploy by Talia and Strange. They were planning this together to hit him, a way to weaken him. It could only be that. It was too much of a coincidence Strange had found you just that night; nothing made sense. When had he and Talia gotten involved again after that day that led to Damian? He couldn’t remember and wasn’t good at recalling such old things. Maybe that wasn't even true. It was as if there was a big blank page in his mind.

“Get out,” Talia’s silhouette appeared at the door where she was leaning. Like most times when referring to the children, her voice was imposing, leaving no room for contestation. “Both of you.”

“You were supposed to wait downstairs,” your brother tried to contradict her. Despite everything he did for your mother, unlike you, he was the only one who had the courage to face her.

Her frown deepened at Damian’s defiance, but her stern expression softened at your trembling voice: ‘Mom...’ She sighed and opened her arms to you, casting a challenging look at Bruce, who returned it with an even harsher one, while you clung to her smaller frame in a tight embrace.

She knelt to your level, her hands gently brushing your cheeks and hair, noting how frizzy and messy it was. ‘Look at you. Your hair is all disheveled.’ She ran a finger down to your lip, grimacing at the cut there.

‘I’m sorry.’ Although less anxious now that you knew she wasn’t angry, you still regretted disobeying her.

‘My sweet girl,’ she said in a soft, genuinely affectionate voice. She kissed your cheek, casting that same malicious glance at Bruce again, as if provoking him. He felt a wave of nausea seeing her use you as a pawn just to taunt him. ‘Let the adults talk,’ she ordered, standing up and regaining her authoritative tone.

‘I’m staying,’ Damian protested. Leaving his father alone with her in his vulnerable state was a mistake.

‘Go and stay with your sister, Damian,’ Bruce was as harsh as Talia, but unlike her, he was seething with anger.

The boy closed his eyes in frustration but gave in, knowing it was useless to argue. He glanced at you, who had already walked out of the room and into the hallway. Damian was about to follow, but his father’s voice stopped him again:

‘She’s not leaving the house, Damian,’ his firm tone carried the weight of undeniable authority, with bitterness seeping through. The coldness in his voice left no room for warmth; it was distant. Bruce had finally gotten the push he needed. The possibility of you being his daughter gave him a sense of entitlement, and it made Talia’s arrogant expression falter for a moment; she looked apprehensive. ‘Do you understand?’ It was a question directed at both his son and Talia.

‘Yes,’ the young man replied simply, avoiding eye contact with his mother as he left. Damian paused in front of the door before fully departing, and his mother slammed it shut in his face.

He resisted the urge to eavesdrop and turned to look for you in the hallway, but you had vanished.

‘I deserve this,’ he muttered impatiently. You were avoiding him, and Damian couldn’t help but feel irritated at how childish that was. But he was one of the villains here; he was the one who lied, insulted, and rejected you. Realizing this filled him with shame, and unlike the first time, he repeated the words, this time with a tone of regret: ‘Yes, I deserve this.’"

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How to Remember (Chapter 3)

Relationship: Batfam x reader (platonic)

Summary: At the age of 11, you woke up in an other world without any guidance and all the money you once lacked. You were left with only your memeories and your other memories.

You tired to remember, their life, but it seemed like they didn't want you too. So when trying to navigate the intricate sides of an elite school, but you always got in trouble when it came to faces and names.

Cw: Slight dislocation

No use of Y/n

Wc: 5.8k

Masterlist

<Prev

VROOOOOM

The drive back to the manor was silent. The night is slowly moving on as they cruise along the tunnel leading back to the manor. This isn’t unusual for Bruce and Damian. They would always get in some type of fight with each other causing them to ignore each other, but this time is different. Bruce seems off. Damian knows that his father would never let his emotions show  easily. So picking up on something being off with him, even if only Damian could see a glimpse of it, is a rare moment.

Damian observes his father. Bruce didn’t move to speech, only blankly staring down the tunnel. Damian knows only one thing would make him so stuck, you. He isn’t sure why but it has to be you. From the photo on the wall to the way Bruce seemed far more concerned with your well being after tonight then he would for any normal civilian. You mean something to Bruce, and Damian hates that he doesn’t know why. Sure, you are very interesting to watch, and seem to have a decent head on your shoulders, for most things.

 But why you? 

What makes you the one to make Bruce Wayne, The Batman, lose his indifferent attitude? He alway cares for the people they are saving but never in the way Bruce seems to be so concerned with you. When they pull into the batcave, Bruce wastes no time getting out of the car and on to the Computer. Alfred stands idly by with medical equipment, and tea in hand.

 “Good evening to you too master bruce.” Alfred says with an abundance of sarcasm, his eyes follow Bruce across the room. “What has you in such a hurry tonight?” Alfred was pouring a cup of tea and handing it to Damian as he approached him. Bruce doesn’t respond, he is pulling up all known social media sites looking for the same thing ‘Gotham drone fight’. The screen is flooded with videos of you early that night, of you. Alfred drops trays when he sees you, He stares at your face on the computer, the way you smile. “Is that…”

“___, Yes.” Bruce grabs his chins and leans bad in his chair. Afred quickly starts to clean up the dropped tray and its content, he places them to the side as he walks closer to the computer. “They are different.”

“They are difficult.” Damia states matter-of-factly. He sets the empty tea cup aside as he walks over to the computer. He watches the video of you punching the man, you claimed you knew how to fight from martial arts but this seemed more like something someone would learn to survive, it was too inconsistent of material arts. Your kick is from material arts, it was clean and precise. “Father, how do you know them?”

“It doesn’t matter Damian” Bruce stares at the video for a while longer before he moves it to the side and brings up records for you. They all seem to be outdated as they only have a photo of you when you were younger. God, you looked depressed as a child. He starts clicking on other files bringing them, comparing and contrasting them to the video of today.

“I think it does matter when you can’t even think when they are in danger” Damian points out. He always knew how to get under his father's skin. Bruce stops, and slowly turns his chair towards damian. “Don't think I didn’t see how you froze up when they had a knife against their throat.” 

“That was nothing,”Bruce dismisses Damian's accusation as he turns back around to the computer, clicking on different files. For a few moments there is only the sound of typing and clicking in the room. Damian was trying to get a read on his father, what was he thinking at this very moment? He looks at the computer, most of this stuff was things he had found in his earlier research. Bruce reads the files so intently that it was almost like he was reading about someone from their family. Dmaian continues to watch his father, until a family portrait, or a photo of one.

It is a photo of a damaged portrait from both a fire and some type of tear, it looked like it was from a police investigation. Damian stares at it, there is a family of 3 in that portrait, only a mother and child are recognizably human, the father didn’t have and upper half. The mothers face is unrecognizable due to the damage, but the child has a bit more of a face then the mother. He moves closer to the computer. Bruces is too distracted by the other file and photos to notice Damian looking over his shoulder. Alfred, on the other hand, is watching Damian closely, he tensed up as Damian's eyes grew sharper.

 Damian looks closely and the child’s face, only half of their face is barely intact. The child’s looks as if they are staring into his soul, reading all of his secrets, they have a detached look in their eyes. Damian almost missed the familiarity because of the unsettling eyes.Damian feels Alfred's eye on him, but he has had enough of them avoiding his questions “Who is the-” Damian starts, but before he could get another word out Alfred pushes him toward the exit of the cave. “Alfred, what's going on?” He tries to dig his feet into the floor with little success.

“It is almost 8:00 am, Master Damian.” Alfred is rather abrupt, he is in a rush. “While master Bruce should also go to bed, he is an adult and I can't make that decision for him but I can for you.” Alfred ushered Damian to the exit even quicker. 

“Father, are you going to let him do this?” Damian holds back Alfred for a moment to see if he can get a reaction out of him.

“Alfred is right damian, you should go to bed, we have a big day ahead of us.” Bruce nods as he continues to read over things. Alfred pushes Damian into the elevator and pushes the button to go up. 

“Master Damian, please don’t ask Master Bruce about this, at least not today.” Alfred states in a hushed tone, he gives Damian an earnest expression. Alfred hopes Damian could understand, maybe one day. Damian folds his arms as the doors close, leaving Alfred and Bruce in the batcave to continue their work. 

Damian is furious. What make you so important to them? Damian is greeted by Titus waiting for him outside of the entrance. Damian pets his head quickly as he exits the elevator. He knows something is up now, and what his father and Alfred are hiding has something to do with you. He wants to know, no. He needs to know. He will know. Instead of walking to his room to sleep, he walks into the kitchen to feed his pets before he goes to sleep. When he walks into the kitchen, he meets 2 other people in there. One of them is grabbing food from the fridge as his laptop is resting on the countertop with his phone being right next to with articles pulled up on, and the other one is eating cereal while scrolling through his phone. 

“Good morning, Damian” Duke takes another bite of his cereal as his clicks on another video of last nights fight. “How was patroll last night?” Duke looks over his phone at Damian,smirking. Damian clenched his fist and grits his teeth. Duke, laughs at him . Damian takes a deep breathe and closes eyes, he doesn’t have the energy to deal with this. He walks over to a cabinet, opens it and takes out food for Titus, as well as his other pets.

“It was fine, thomas, just busy.” Wow did he sound like his father with the vague answers. He picks up titus’ bowl and pours some kibble in it. 

“Oh really, Nothing 

He stops and looks at Tim still standing in front of the fridge with the door wide open. “Drake, What are you doing?” He puts the bowl of food in front of titus and walks over to Tim, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

Tim jumps at the sudden contact, he quickly turns his head and holds his breathe. “Oh,” He lets out a sigh of relief and annoyance, because it was only Damian, and it was Damian. “I am grabbing food.” He pulls out an apple and a slice of cheese. Damian raises an eyebrow, Tim looks tired. Well he almost always is but he looks like he is trying to break the world record for the amount of time a human goes without sleep. Tim looks at his hands and puts back the slice of cheese and takes out the milk instead.  

“Drake, you should really think about something more nutritional than cereal.” Damian snaps at tim as he walks out of the kitchen. Duke stop mid bite and looks down at his food. Duke turns to say something but Damian is already half down the hall.

Damian is getting really tired of this cat mouse game when it comes to information about you. He is going to find out the truth, even if that means going to you.

“Okay,” Percy clasps they hands together and exhales “ So you fought the man that held a knife to your throat, in front of Batman and Robin, and it went viral?” Percy says through their gritted teeth, you raise your head above one of the multiple clothing rank of formal clothing that take up most of your foyer, which was already pretty large in itself. You stare at them, they are taken a back by your stare, which always seems far off, but then you hesitantly nods. “Of course.” Precy shout exacerbated, throwing their arms up into the air. 

“I can never understand how you change up so fast ___” Val laughs softly as he pats Percy’s shoulder, “I have never seen someone go from cry on my shoulder to being almost completely normal in less than 12 hours.”

“Well you see my dear, Val” You chirp as you push your way through the clothing hang on the rack, pulling out serval articles of clothing out with you. “I have my therapy appointment on monday, and we all that when I go longer then 3 week without talking to her I go completely off the rail, these clothing being exhibit A” you gesture toward the rows and rows of clothes. “Never would be going on a normal day” you say flatly.

“Then why are you going at all!” Percy screams gripping their hair and pulls on it. You giggle and and shrug you shoulders. “No thats bullshit. Tell me the real reason now.” 

“Fine-” you roll your eye, “I meet damian wayne yesterday at school, by running into him, we talked, and I want to mess with him” you look away from them. Their mouth drops wide open in utter horror. Val face palms shaking from his held back laughter. You knew Percy wouldn't be happy with you but hey it fun, sort of. 

“You are utterly insane” they laugh, “Listen i know you aren't from this world, but everyone know that the wayne’s are the equivalent to royalty in Gotham” You look at them blankly. “Of course you didn’t know.” You nod your head. “Okay, we will come back to this.” They crack their knuckle nervously as their eyes dart around the room before landing on you. “Go put those on!” They wave their hand at you as you tun off to the bathroom giggling. They fall down into a squat after you leave the room. 

“Percy, I will never know how you got everything together so fast.” Val sighs, he watches them as the are hunched over kneeling. “You do a lot for us.” 

“Tt- you don’t have to say that again.” they take a few deep breathes “But i would do anything for them” Val hums, agreeing with Percy. They were alway hopelessly devoted to you. They sit in silence for a while before finally Val break that tension.

“Do you really think we should let ___ go to their gala?” Val held a bit animosity in his voice when speaking of ‘them’.  Percy hold tightens their grip on their arms.

“They have no memories of them so it is a dangerous bet,” You were walking back as they are talking, you stop at the mention of you. You hide behind a wall to continue to listen “ but we might be able to play off because of how things ended with the original ___ but I have my doubts.” Percy furrows their eyebrows. Your heart tightens. You remain quite as you peak around the corner.  They walk over to a rack over on the far end of the rack and pick out two suit that didn’t look like they were meant for you.

“What are the suits for?” Val question walking over to them.

“Us,” Percy hands a suit Val “You didn’t think I was going to let them go on their own did you?” Val’s mouth drops, but then he smiles and takes the suit from them.

“You are just as attractive as the day I meet you” He teases. They roll their eye and smile. You take this chance to walk out, you were quick to put on a cheerful smile as you quickly walk out from behind the wall. They turn to look at you.

“Maybe you should save the flirting for later, lover boy.” Percy pats Val’s cheek and walk towards you. They looks over your outfit just making sure everything is in place. “Perfect, now don't forget your shoes, and to brush your teeth”

“Wow, can't you just compliment me?” You sigh while pursing your lips, “you will never stop nagging you.” you laugh. Percy’s eyes soften as you laugh, they place a hand on you cheek and smile. It’s rare a genuine smile from them and not some strand laugh or tight smile when someone annoys them. It’s a real smile, not big or bright but a smile all the same.

“You look amazing.” they whisper to you, your heart tightens more as they pat you cheek a retract their hand  “now go up stair and brush your teeth. Your breath stinks” 

“Of course you would do that.” You shake your head “You two should get dressed, I wanna eat something before we go to the gala” 

“Of course” Val and Percy say in unison

You push Val and Percy toward to separate bathrooms for them to change before walking up to your room. You still feel the fresh air from you broken window, ‘replace within the next day my ass’. You walk in to your bathroom, everything was out of place thanks to Robin from the night before. You mentally note to take care of this later. You start brushing your teeth and let your mind wonder. It was about half past six in the evening now and you had only woken up maybe four hours ago, but really you got up with Percy arrived. You had never slept for over 12 hours, or not since you first came here. You know something was off about last night but you have yet to figure it out.

There almost always some villain that show up toward the end, you weren’t going to stick around for that. it started at six and ends at midnight (really one to two am), but knowing you, you are going to be there around eight since you aren’t going to leave here without getting something to eat (even if that meant you brush your teeth for nothing). You spit out the toothpaste foam, or whatever its called, and wipe you mouth on a hand towel discarded on the floor, while turing on the sink to wash it down the drain You look in the mirror fixing you outfit and hair. You alway wonder what it would’ve been like to see you mom here with you. 

What would she have said, done, and how she would’ve she looked at you. She probably would’ve come with you to the gala, she would be protective and scare of all the weird people that come near you two. Val and Percy would actually be able to enjoy the party. You always would want the impossible to be possible. This is only a far off dream of your, having to people you hold dear now and the person you have always held dear in the same world could never happen.

You let out a breathe you didn’t know you were holding. You exits your bathroom returning downstairs. Percy and Val still seem to be changing to so you take this as your que to grab a snack from the pantry, and scroll through social media. You, as you predicted, went viral, some love you, some hate you, and some are able to just admit they are jealous. It didn’t really matter what they thought, you are just having fun with it. You come across serval post about the Wayne gala to night, mostly from gothamites. They are mostly posting about the drama and fashion that comes from events like this, but a few did raise a good point about how even if it is of charity, there was no need for it to be so fancy and exclusive. You kind of agreed with them.

You turn off you phone, and place it down as you are finishing up the snack. You look over at the pile of mail on the table, still unsorted. The invitation is still where you left it, you didn’t really read it all, you leave your phone and snack on the counter and walk over to table and pick up the invatation

“___, Where are you?” Percy calls, from another room. “We need to get going soon.” Percy is  getting closer to you as they continue to talk.

“I am in the kitchen Percy, needed a snack,” You quickly slip the invite into a safe place, while you walk back over your snack. You finish eating and throw away the wrapper right as Percy enter the kitchen. They are a very elegant person, you honestly were in awe when first meeting them. You rarely seem them dress so formally, but it was nice. They were adjusting their earring when they walked in, you smile softly at them. “Wow, you look amazing.”

“Thank you,” They run their hand over their suit to flatten our wrinkles “now if Val could just hurry up.” They raise their voice so that Val could hear them, but val round the corner right as they finish.

“Calm down you cant rush perfect, now.” Val smirk at Percy, they roll their eyes and walk away from you and him. Val’s face falls and you laugh “What did i do wrong?” He turns to you with a defeated look. 

“You have an ego” you walk past him following Percy towards the front door. He stands the for a moment before following after you as you are leaving the apartment. The three of you enter the elevator, Percy presses the button for the ground floor

“So how are we getting there?” Val asks “It doesn’t look like we will be taking the normal car.” he nervously adjust the sleeve of his suit, cars always made him nervous.

“You’re right about that,”Percy replies, as the grab his sleeve and re-adjusts it for him.  “___ was admit that we let them drive their Motorcycle” a cold sweat rolls down Val’s face after hearing that you would be driving. “So we will be taking a separate car”

“Haha, don’t worry I wont drive fast” the elevator doors open “or at least i won’t get caught” you leave Val in utter shock while a stressed Percy drags him as they follow behind you into the lobby.

“Did you really have to say that?” Percy rubs their temple as a reluctant Val is struggling to form words. “You just made it worst for me to deal with.”

“Sorry not sorry.” You stick out your tongue. “you wouldn’t want to drive with me anyways” You smile as they quickly try to regain their composure from your idiocy. Percy walks away in a toward valet, leaving you and Val alone. Val looks at you, concerned.

“Are you sure you wanna go?” He looks at you in your eyes. For a moment you really consider if this is what you really want. You don’t really know why you are going in first place, you could easily have a simple weekend and do nothing but bask in your new social media fame while eating Batburger for the 3rd time this week. 

“Yes,” You stop, “mostly” Val’s stare really wears you down quickly “Not really, I am just nervous but I feel like I am too far in.” so the truth finally comes out. “I just kinda want to go to figure out why i am invited in the first place, you know? And i think it would be kinda fun to annoy damian”

“But are you really going to just annoy Damian?” Val was alway good at raising good points at the worst times “It seems like your doing to much for a guy you just meet.” he place a hand on your shoulder and give you a reassuring squeeze.

“I hate when you’re right.” You look at Percy who already seems to be losing hair, you feel bad but you feel like this is needed. “But i am trying to understand why i am invited in the first place sp, I still think i should go.” Val presses his lip together.

“Fine, but we can leave whenever you want.” Val let’s go of your shoulder as Percy returns with two key and hands you one of them. 

“Of course” You tighten the grip on your keys, you sometimes wish you be more honest with them, but you can never feel like they care for you like they seem to for their version of you. You walk out grabbing the helmet from the valet attendant as the get off of the motorcycle. 

“Now, don't be too crazy.” Percy grabs onto you helmet before you put it on. “We want you alive, and not more injured than you already are”

“Okay”  You smile at them as you start the engine “I won’t do any wheelies then” You put on your helmet and quickly push up the kick stand up, waving bye to Val before Percy could get in another word in, you speed off.?

You weave between the cars on the street as you drive. You rarely drive, but when you do it’s always fast and messy; this time is no different seeing as you just missed your turn. Probably would miss the turn at least 3 more times before finally getting it right. To be honest you might do it subconsciously to make the drive longer, but whos knows. Lights of the city blurred together, you always feel the most free when you act the most reckless.. When you finally get the right turn you slowed down as you approach the entrance.

The gala was being held in wayne tower (which was only meant to be a 5 minute drive for you, but you easily turned it into a 20 minute drive), Percy and Val are waiting by the entrance for you. The paparazzi lines the stair, lights flashing as you pulled up and pull off you helmet. The red carpet is busy with serval celebrities and business officials posing and taking interviews There already seems to be a commotion a bit further up, you try to look to see who it might be but the flashes blinds you.

“You would think they might not use the flash as much” you use your hand to cover you eyes as you turn away from the red carpet. Percy walks up to you left side and leans in covering their mouth with their hand.

“Maybe you were here 15 minutes ago you wouldn’t have had to deal with this” they jest at you “You seem to be upstaged by a wayne member who just arrived” You roll your eyes as you squint harder to try to make out which member it might be. Val approaches you on the right.

“I think you should start moving instead of acting like you are apart of the paparazzi” He gently pushes you forward a step in front of him and Percy “You can’t act too star struck now, you didn’t even know the wayne two days ago” Val laughs. 

“I am not star struck,” You start walk up the stairs moving around the people posing “just trying to see if it’s damian so I can annoy him faster” Percy and Val let out a heavy sigh trying to hide their laughter. You see a man in a suit a talking to a news anchor as you walk up the stairs, you can easily assume that is the mentioned Wayne. It wasn’t damian, he was too happy to be talking to someone, you almost immediately lose interest. You look toward the paparazzi, they were all focused on the Wayne. You start to feel pressure behind your eyes as they go in and out of focus. 

“At least we won’t have to deal with the media” Val lightly nudges you to the side, you blink a few times before you look up at him. He gives you a sly grin, “We wouldn't need theses sharks looking for fresh blood on out door step.” You are quick to get back in to moment.

“Hey!” you slap his arm “How dare you compare sharks to these people? At least shark are cute!” He let’s out a low laugh as percy was pinches their nose

“You really need to start moving rather then just stand here.” Percy whispers into your ear, you nod your head to acknowledge them, all while rolling your eyes as you starts walking up the stairs.   

You look straight forward for the most part. You know its better to keep a low profile rather then make your presents know, but of course you are meant to make a mistake. You look over for no more then ten seconds, and yet they recognize you. You almost immediately look forward again but it is already to late, someone recognizes you. It is a a domino effect after this. Slowly, each reporter and photographer are trying to get you to pay attention to them.

“Shit” you squeak out as Percy quickly guides you through the crowd avoiding the sides as best as possible while Val follows closely behind trying to shield you. But with your luck you run in to someone separating you and Percy. You try to find you way back to them however you are met with a wall of mics. 

Oh well isn’t this just perfect?

You don’t know what to do in front of camera when they have people behind them, so what’s better then giving them two thumbs up and a half assed smile? Anything. So that’s what you do as the cameras click away. 

“Who are you?”  a reporter loudly asks, you feel the panic start to set in.

“Uh…” You can feel your mind turn to radio static.

“Don’t say anything.” Val and Percy simultaneously yell at you in a panic 

“ I am ___ ” Their words reach your brain a second too late. Instant regret fills your mind. They start call out your name being followed by serval variation of the same question. Your head is spinning from the crowd. You start to move up the stairs once again trying to avoid answering anymore questions. Val and Percy quickly follow after you. 

You bump into the wayne who was now paying more attention to the commotion you caused then then person interviewing him. Percy quickly guides you away from him as you barley see his eyes meet yours as you are being usher into the building. You feel sick. You quickly find a place to sit down. Val and percy talk a bit before, Percy takes out their phone and calls someone.

You are unable to walk from uneasiness that grows in your heart. You feel as if thousands of hands are crawling up your back, all while someone is forcefully keeping your eyes open to watch a fast moving filming . His eyes, you know them, you knew them. You always want to remember the life of the other you, but when you did it is always painful. The memories are never clear enough to understand, but the emotions are. You can’t even deal with your own issues to adding on someone else's makes it worst.

Fuck, this is going to bite you in the ass this week.

“Wow, that was something.” You play with your fingers staring at the floor as Percy is on the phone pacing while Val is trying to get you to say something. “Are you okay? They didn’t try to grab you right?” You nod your head, not looking up at him. Percy ends the call and sighs.

“Okay,” Percy claps their hands together “ we will have people to help us get out of here when you are ready to.” you don’t respond. They put their phone away in a pocket of their suit, then sit next you. “Are you..?” they gently and slowly wrap their arms around your back. You flinch away, before looking up at them and then to Val. 

“No, no. I am here. I am fine.” You shake out your hands, then wipe them on your clothes as you get up quickly. Pushing their arm off of you. “Thank you for getting people for after.” You smile at them, “sorry to cause so much concern”

“Its okay.” They stand up and pat your back. “We should have done this to begin with.” Val nods in agreement. You try to ignore the way the memories make your head throb. 

“We underestimated the impact of social media” Val looks towards the door. Many of them are still attempting to take photos of you in the lobby. You use your hand to shield your eyes from the flashes of the camera. 

“You wouldn’t say.” You look at Val from the side of your eyes before you look around the lobby. The receptionists have gone home and it was only a few rich people in far off corners of the room. Some of them are starting at all of you as you are in the middle of the lobby. “Let’s just get up stairs.”  

“I agree.” Percy grabs Val’s arm and walks him over to the elevator waiting for you. You give the lobby one last glance before you walk over to elevator. You press the button to call for the elevator. The elevator couldn’t have come at any later, the Wayne from earlier entered the lobby. You can feel the memories trying to rip away the fog put up by the other you, but it is easier to handle now. You take a glance at him just to try and figure out which Wayne it was. 

It was difficult to tell with most of the boys because majority of them are copies of Bruce with no biological relation, so it would be better to go off of age. He looks older than you, around 20-25, closer to middle of that guess though. With process of elimination you safely assume that it is Tim Drake, famous for being just as smart as Bruce, maybe even smarter. He has his own personal fortune thanks to his parents, so he is familiar with the upper-class environment. Basically, avoid him because of the headache and having no experience in ‘high society’. He seems to be to more consumed by the crowd of rich people who had left their corners. They are like shiver of sharks coming at him as if he is fresh prey.  You grin and bite your inner lip as you recall the nature document you used to watch in public school.

“Percy, What do always you compare theses events to?” You turn your eyes away from Tim as you look at Percy. They look at you from the corner of their eyes.

“It is like toddlers and tiara, but it’s only the overbearing adults who couldn’t fill their need for attention.” Percy looks toward the crowd growing around Tim. You cover your face as you are giggling quietly. “But this seems to be more like the pageants and its the adults competing instead.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” You clear your throat like you have to cough trying to conceal your laughs. You look back over for a moment to try and get another visual of the crowd, but you are surprised to see Tim pushing his way to the elevators, towards you. 

Why did i decide to be so difficult for myself?

You drag your eyes away from him. Right on que, there was the blessed ding of the elevator. The doors open and you are quick to step in, while trying to get Percy and Val to get on so you could close the doors. As much as you would love to understand the connection, you don’t really want to have to deal with emotions of the memories, and the possibility that he might recognize you, if he knew the other you. 

You weren’t quick enough of course, he steps on right as the doors star closing. You hide your face as he turns back to all of you guys. “What flo-” he stops mid sentence. Shit. “Percy?” your eyes go wide, he recognizes percy? You turn your head slightly, only enough to see percy out of the side of your eye. They did not look happy in the slightest, they look almost hateful to him.

“What floor do you think?” they fold their arms and doesn’t even try to hide their annoyance behind their smile. “There’s really only one floor we could be going to.” They push him to the side as the press the button for the top floor. 

“Yeah of course.” Tim awkwardly turns a back a round. You go back to staring at the wall of the elevator, it was surprisingly fun to look at, but the ride seems to be endlessly slow. Percy and Val move in front of you blocking his view of you. “I saw __ with you early,” you freeze up as the elevator grows more tense  “did they already go to the gala without you?”

“I don’t think you need to know.” Val speaks up. unlike Percy. he is trying to hide his emotions with a calmer tone. Why are they trying to hide you?

“Well I mean it kind of is, seeing as I am a ward of the hosting family.” TIm snaps back with a stranded smile. Val and percy are both about to respond as the elevator door open. A woman stands in front of elevator.

“Invitations please” she smiles.

Quick A/N- Just to clarify the ages of batfam, and reader + co. (i did age up and age down some for story purposes sorry if this bothers you)

Damian - 15

Duke - 17 (same grade as reader)

reader's friend group - 17-18

Reader - 18

Cass- 18-19

Steph- 19

Tim- 22 (i think tim is meant to be 6 to 7 years older than damian so he is finally not 17 )

Jason- 24

Barbara - 33

Dick- 30

Percy- 40

Val- 38

Bruce- 44

Alfred- 63.

Taglist: @problematicreblogger @mileskisser @hoeinthehouse @luminous011 @enjisthings @earth-to-mee @thereeallink @pasta-warlord @just-here-reading

“But if you forget to reblog Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.”

Not Your Classic Vigilante [Ch. 15]

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

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

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

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

2005

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Very good.”

Before the conversation could continue, the older man returned.

“Master Bruce will see you in his study.”

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

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

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

“Up the stairs and five doors down.”

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

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

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

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

“(Y/N)… (Y/N) Kyle…” you answered.

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

“What’s wrong?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?” You look at your mother.

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

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

“Just me?”

“Just you.”

“Where will you go?” You looked around.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Even you?” You asked against her coat.

“Especially me,” she responds.

“You have to come visit, okay?”

“Of course,” she holds onto you securely.

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

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

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

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

“No,” you lied back.

“It’s only temporary, (Y/N).”

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

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

“That’s you, right?”

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

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

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

“Do you promise?”

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

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

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

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

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

But you couldn’t check there.

“Mr. Alfred?”

“Just Alfred is fine, young miss.”

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

“No monsters.”

“Promise?”

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

Then he’s gone too.

It’s cold in here.

~

2022

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

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

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

The daemon looked at him and huffed silently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is so ridiculous,” you muttered.

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

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

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

“And it wasn’t before?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Give or take,” he shrugs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, relax, you were on bedrest.”

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

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

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

“Just go with him, Dami.”

“I can keep secrets, you know.”

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

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

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

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

“Maybe he’s like us?” You whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it, (Y/N)?” Tim asks.

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

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

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

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

~

2006

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry, dad,” you looked at ground.

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

You didn’t want to get it dirty.

~

2022

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Constantine,” a new voice enters the conversation.

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

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

“What?” Constantine looks behind him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And how many is that?” Bruce asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s the plan then?”

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

“And what should we do?” Constantine asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~

2008

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

And so did Dick.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wondered if your dad knew.

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

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

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

“What’s it on?”

“Spelling,” you mumbled.

“You’re good at that.”

“I think so, yeah.”

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

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

“You haven’t finished your breakfast.”

“I’m full.”

“(Y/N).”

“And I really need to pee.”

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

“Yeah?”

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

“I know.”

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

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

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

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

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

“For school?”

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

“American Girl?” He asked.

“Yes.”

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

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

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

“For?”

“For keeping my secret,” he says quietly.

“Yeah…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? Her knowing Dick’s Robin?”

“Precisely.”

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

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

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

“And will you ever tell her?”

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

“Do you think she will?”

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

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

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

~

2022

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

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

“What, the mutants?” Tim shudders.

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

“Shit,” Damien grumbles.

“Shit,” Jason scoffs.

“What’s the plan, (Y/N)?” Tim asks.

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

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

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

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

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

“(Y/N)!” Jason called after you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You never got over that, did you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fractured.”  His voice was an echo.

“Can you fix it?”

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

You looked at him.

Your father. Why was he here?

Surely, not for you.

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

“Get me to Marion.”

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

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

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

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

“Sleep well, Cap.”

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

“I await the headline.”

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

“Dick and Jason?”

“Were there others arguing?”

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

“Great. Maybe I will sleep.”

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

“Weak?”

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

“How do you feel, (Y/N)?” Eve asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, that depends on your reattachment.”

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

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

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

~

2014

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I— What’s going on?”

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

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

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

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

If only you were stronger.

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

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

But… maybe if you could…

You dismissed the thought.

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

Well, how bad can it be?

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

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

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

Then your father would have to acknowledge you.

…

Right?

Not Your Classic Vigilante: @gabytodd @peachydokii @marshmallow12435 @f0leysgurl @luminaaz @lolsnack @akuri-shinsou @pansinspace @time-shardz @lovely-maryj @urminebutidontwantyou @y3oudsc @rainnyydaysworld  @underworlder @franini @mayo-0-o @mileskisser @nightw-izhu @alishii @bluebear142077

can someone help me find this fic?

It was a fic (i think one of the flash’s / wally x reader) who accidentally went back in time to stop Barbara & bruce from cheating on dick/ betraying his trust? I CANT FIND IT I NEED IT 😭

𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐂 | wk: 397

pairings. vamp!batfam x gn!batsib reader

warnings. these are just general ideas/hcs I had for the batfam, not a fic. death, murder, general batfam content no specific series or iteration.

What if…

• Bruce came from a long lineage of vampires, and the people who murdered his mother and father were vampire hunters.

• After his parent's murders he finds out from Alfred that he's a vampire, and that Alfred was also a vampire.

• Time skip to him adopting Dick

• Instead of Dick becoming orphaned and getting adopted by Bruce, he dies alongside his parents. Only to be brought back by Bruce biting his neck and turning him into a vampire.

• Insert conflict between Dick and Bruce about him only saving Dick and not his parents as well + possible survivors guilt; this leads to him going off to do his own thing after his days as Robin ( + him not wanting to be in Bruce’s shadow )

• Incomes Jason's tragic tale

• I think he’d be one of the few non-vampire Batfam members since he got brought back by the pits

• Alfred, Bruce, Dick, Tim, Damian, Cass, and Duke would all be vampires in this au. Steph, Barbara, Jason, and Reader would be some of the few humans they’d have around.

• Damian is half demon half vampire (insert -Damian- alpha/single/emo/half-demon/vampire/prince)

• Tim would come from a line of vampire hunters, getting turned into a vampire one night by accident and being taken in by Bruce (idk much about his lore & parents so let's just say that he ran away or they disowned him but couldn’t bring themselves to kill him) 

• I think Damian’s introduction would be the same

• Same with Cass but her parents would be vampires.

• I think Bruce would have a rule in place similar to the “No killing” rule, just that they can't drink human blood

• Reader is introduced to the Batfam by accidentally stumbling across it during a rainy night, stereotypically breaking into a “what seems to be abandoned mansion but is actually the home to a bunch of immortal vampires.”

• They couldn’t turn away a weak–half dead human, so they take them in and let them stay “temporarily”

• Obviously their stay was not temporary, over the few days that the storm rained over Gotham, Reader grew close to the members of the batfam.

• They all came to a unanimous agreement to keep them there, even if they had to hide their identities (both vampire and vigilante)

• Possible yan au / or something with obsessive themes

aaaaa sorry for this being short and booty, I wanted to get a post out & write some more but my laptop keeps lagging whenever I do anything. Ill def go back n edits some stuff :((

haii update on all my content :3

ive decided to private my old works, i plan on re-writing & revising them + updating my old formats to match my current ones! all my spiderverse stuff is on hold tho bc im currently obsessing over dc/batfam so expect more content like that. sorry if i disappointed you ( ´ ▽ ` )

✦ NANA — THEY/THEM ▎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋

━━ FANDOMS & INFO 𖤐 : DC. SPIDERVERSE. TMNT. FLUFF. NON-ROMANTIC / PLATONIC RELATIONS. YANDERES. PLATONIC YANDERES & SFW Content.

↳ WARNINGS : I write for all genders, but I’m mostly focused on GN & FEMALE; If you want a MALE reader make sure to include that in your ask! As shown above, I do write for yanderes so beware of said content if you wish to read my works. May contain violence, death & dark content, shoot me an ask if you’re unsure what I write for!

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