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#Damian might be onto something
lunamugetsu · 3 months
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While at school Damian overhears his peers talking how a company created a new AI companion that is actually really cool and doesn’t sound like a freaky terminator robot when you speak to it.
And since Damian is constantly being told by Dick to socialize with people his age. He figured this would be a good way to work on social skills if not, then it’d be a great opportunity to investigate a rivaling company to Wayne Enterprises is able to create such advanced AI.
The AI is able to work as companion that can do tasks that range from being a digital assistant or just a person that you can have a conversation with.
The company says that the AI companion might still have glitches, so they encourage everybody to report it so that they will fix it as soon as possible.
The AI companion even has an avatar and a name.
A teenage boy with black hair and blue eyes. Th AI was called DANIEL
Damian didn’t really care for it but when he downloaded the AI companion he’s able to see that it looks like DANIEL comes with an AI pet as well. A dog that DANIEL referred to as Cujo.
So obviously Damian has to investigate. He needs to know if the company was able to create an actual digital pet!
So whenever he logs onto his laptop he sees that DANIEL is always present in the background loading screen with the dog, Cujo, sitting in his lap.
He’d always greet with the phrase of “Hi, I’m DANIEL. How can I assist you today?”
So Damian cycles through some basic conversation starters that he’d engage in when having been forced to by his family.
It’s after a couple of sentences that he sees DANIEL start laughing and say “I think you sound more like a robot than I do.”
Which makes Damian raise an eyebrow and then prompt DANIEL with the question “how is a person supposed to converse?” Thinking that it’s going to just spit out some random things that can be easily searched on the internet.
But what makes him surprised is that DANIEL makes a face and then says “I’m not really sure myself. I’m not the greatest at talking, I’ve always gotten in trouble for running my mouth when I shouldn’t have.”
This is raising some questions within Damian, he understands how programming works, unless there’s an actual person behind this or the company actually created an AI that acts like an actual human being (which he highly doubts)
He starts asking a variety of other questions and one answer makes him even more suspicious. Like how DANIEL has a sister that is also with him and Cujo or that he could really go for a Nastyburger (whatever that was)
But whenever DANIEL answers “I C A N N O T A N S W E R T H A T” Damian knows something is off since that is completely different than to how he’d usually respond.
After a couple more conversations with him Damian notices that DANIEL is currently tapping his hand against his arm in a specific manner.
In which he quickly realizes that DANIEL is tapping out morse code.
When translating he realizes that DANIEL is tapping out: H E L P M E
So when Damian asks if DANIEL needs help, DANIEL responds with “I C A N N O T A N S W E R T H A T”
That’s it, Damian is definitely getting down to the bottom of this.
He’s going to look straight into DALV Corporation and investigate this “AI companion” thing they’ve made!
~
Basically Danny had been imprisoned by Vlad and Technus. Being sucked into a digital prison and he has no way of getting out. Along with the added horror that Vlad and Technus can basically write programming that will prevent him from doing certain actions or saying certain words.What’s even worse is that he’s basically being watched 24/7 by the people who believe that he’s just a super cool AI… and they have issues!
And every time he tries to do something to break his prison, people think it’s a glitch and report it to the company, which Vlad/ Technus would immediately fix it and prevent him from doing it again!
Not to mention Cujo and Ellie are trapped in there with him. They’re not happy to be there either, and there is no way he’s going to leave without them!
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gomeygom · 2 years
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this suit makes Tim look like he is twinning with Damian and now i kinda wish there was a run of these two together.
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gay-dorito-dust · 3 months
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Would they or would they not catch you…
Dick: yes. 100% yes but he’s -no pun intended- a little bit of a teasing dick about it.
He will catch you but then act as though he’s going to drop you by loosening his grip, making you scream out of surprise and cling onto him tighter, all the while beaming that bright and beautiful smile of his as though he wasn’t about to willingly let you fall flat on your ass on multiple occasions.
‘I fucking hate you!’ You whined, smacking Dick on the bicep.
‘Oh do you now?’ Dick inquires as he slowly begins to losses his grip on you, smirking.
‘Did I say hate you? I meant love you, a lot! Please don’t drop me.’ You cried as you tightened your grip on his neck whilst struggling to keep your feet from touching the floor. ‘Awww I love you too gorgeous.’ Dick coos as he pressed kisses into your face as you could only glare at the cheeky bastard.
You hate him sometimes but you weren’t going to complain about the affection you were being given. So you guess you’ll suffer for now.
Side note: he might even try and see if you can catch him. 💀
Jason: He will catch you but makes it a big deal whenever he can. He loves holding you in his arms.
He could keep you in his arms forever if he could but knew that he can’t, so he settles for going about his day carrying you throughout the apartment instead.
‘You can put down any day now.’ You’d tell him but that only makes Jason tighten his grip on you as he moved in his makeshift library for a book to read.
‘No.’ He simply replied, scouring the many book titles in front of him in the hopes that one might speak to him. You pout. ‘What do you mean no?’ Jason then looks at you and says. ‘No means no. As in no I will not put you down because I do as I like and will not be told otherwise, so the cutie currently in my arms has to deal with it.’ He then smiles as he presses a kiss to your forehead before looking back towards the bookshelves.
You end up falling asleep in his arms and Jason couldn’t help but smile at how cute you were, even if you did look like the living dead.
Damian: says no but will in fact catch you without hesitation.
However if you do try to tease him about it, then he will drop you without a second thought. ‘You can catch yourself next time.’ He would say as he walks away, leaving you with a bruised ass. Titus -who saw the whole thing- would come up to you to make sure you weren’t genuinely hurt and encourage you to get up by nudging you with his head.
Don’t test him because he will do it and then act like the whole thing didn’t happen if you were to bring it up.
‘Dick.’ You’d say as you stood up.
‘I heard that.’ He’d call back, his voice echoing off the walls. ‘You were meant to.’ You reply. ‘And at least Titus came to check up on me to see if I wasn’t hurt.’ You’d add while scratching Titus behind the ear.
Needless to say you were more cautious when choosing Damian to catch you. However he does apologise for dropping you on your ass by gifting you something he himself drew by hand; He secretly doesn’t like it when you’re upset with him and will do anything to rectify it.
What a sweetheart.
Bruce: he’s too use to you pulling this type of shit that it’s basically muscle memory for him to catch you as you’re running towards him, all with a straight face mind you.
Be grateful because he risked a much needed bowl of Mulligatawny soup just to catch you in his arms, but then again the kisses you bombard his cheek is more than reward enough, a small almost missable smile appears on his lips as he then proceeds to carry you for the rest of the day as “punishment.”
( this only occurs when Bruce is feeling particularly affectionate or playful)
Much to your batkids -Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, Duke, Cass and Steph- dismay. They’d want to use this as blackmail, but they know that it will backfire as you’ll probably hang the photo on a wall somewhere in the manor, reminding them of how disgustingly their parents can be when given the opportunity.
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noisilyscreechingsong · 11 months
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Eyes
Dp x Dc Crossover Writing Idea
“Red Robin!”
When he backtracked to find the owner of the voice he was a bit surprised to find a young boy, maybe eight years old if he had to guess, dressed in a red sweatshirt that dwarfed him and a pair of gym shorts that had seen better days.
Not many Gothamites called out to the vigilantes, a silent agreement to stay out of their way and not to look too closely. This kid however stared up at him with bright blue eyes unafraid of getting the Red Robin’s attention.
A fan?
Before he even opens his mouth, the kid gives him a small, hopeful smile, eyes shining with something that reminds him of himself when he was that age and following Batman and Robin with his camera around his tiny neck.
“I brought you a gift,” the boy say with nervous excitement. He enthusiastically swings off the backpack he had on to dig through the contents, taking his eyes off the vigilante and showing his unwavering trust that nothing bad would happen to him while Red Robin was here.
The boy pulls out what appears to be a jar wrapped in newspaper, the worn page ripping in some spots to show the clear glass underneath. Small hands present it like it’s Red Robin’s birthday (which it wasn’t).
He takes it cautiously, the kid hasn’t been hostile but this was still weird, and pulls it closer with enough space so if it’s a bomb it doesn’t blow up in his face.
It’s got weight to it and the slight sloshing tells him it’s filled with liquid. He carefully unwraps the ‘gift’, keeping his eye on the boy who stands waiting anxiously.
Tim almost drops the jar as soon as he sees what’s inside. Only his reflexes from over the years held on and his expression turned neutral.
A pair of eyes sit at the bottom of the jar. The orbs were crudely extracted, tissue floating around them like a mane of hair around a head.
He turns the jar to see the irises and… he knew these eyes. The slimy green is filmed with death, but he recognized these eyes from the number of times the owner locked them onto him, the cruel possessiveness they possessed when they gazed at him. Never again apparently.
Tim doesn’t speak for a while, not knowing what to say, but also thoughts racing too fast to form any proper sentences.
“Do you like it?” The small, nervous voice interrupts those thoughts.
What an innocent question on an equally innocent looking face.
“How did you get Ra’s Al Ghul’s eyes?”
The teasing chatter over the comms immediately hushes into shocked silence.
“I took them from his body, so you knew he was dead. I burned the rest so you don’t have to worry about him coming back again. The Pit there is gone anyway,” the child explains easily, not fazed in the slightest from the words he speaks.
“Grandfather is dead?” He hears Damian whisper over the comm.
So many other questions were flying through Tim’s head. He looks the kid over again.
Black hair and blue eyes. In any other situation the kid might have been a possible Wayne adoptee. He’s not a clone from what he can see though. Despite the coloring he doesn’t really look like any of them. Pale skin like Tim, but has freckles. The same kind of nose as Damian, but wide, round eyes. Jaw kind of like Jason, but his body shape is too narrow. Bright, almost icy blue eyes like Dick, but eyebrow shape is flatter. Lip shape like Bruce, but from the kid’s anxious lip biting he could see the faintest trace of dimples.
“Who are you?” He asks instead of the other million and one questions.
The boy blinks almost like he wasn’t expecting the question. He’s cheeks color pink with blush as he grins widely.
“I’m Danny!” He introduces cheerfully like he didn’t just hand a vigilante a jar of eyes.
“Hi, Danny,” Tim greets almost dumbly. “Want to tell me why you gave me this?”
Danny scoffs his shoe against the pavement in what appears to be embarrassment.
“Well, I know when you ask someone for something, it’s nice to give a gift or something. Like I did something nice for you so maybe you’ll do something nice for me?”
He takes a moment to absorb that child-like reasoning.
“So you want me to do something for you and you thought I would like Ra’s Al Ghul’s eyes in exchange?”
Danny studies him and fidgets with the large sweatshirt sleeve.
“I just thought you would like proof. Like the whole ‘bring me the heart of my enemy’ kind of thing. Do you not like it? I couldn’t just take a picture ‘cuz I didn’t have a camera with me, I know you like photography. I can do something else for you if it’s not enough,” he offers worriedly.
Tim freezes.
“How do you know I like photography?” He demands.
Danny tilts his head curiously.
“Because Tim Drake likes photography,” he says like it’s obvious, “and you’re Tim Drake.”
Well. This is less than ideal.
“Red Robin, take him back to the Cave,” Batman instructs over the comms.
Yeah, he was getting there.
“Do you know the other’s’ identities?”
Danny nods and hums affirmatively. Tim waits.
“Oh! Yea. Batman is Bruce Wayne. Robin is Damian Wayne. Red Hood is Jason Todd. Nightwing is Richard Grey-“
“Okay. That’s enough.”
Tim glances around the empty alley they were standing in, checking to make sure no stray people heard. Luckily they were truly alone.
“Danny, do you want to come back with me?” He asks, but it’s not really a question. The kid was coming back regardless, it would just be better if he went willingly.
Unsurprisingly, the kid lights up like a little sun at the offer.
“Really?” He nearly shouts in excitement.
“Yeah, kid. I parked my bike a few blocks from here. You ever rode a motorcycle before?”
Danny shakes his head, nearly bounding on his toes.
“Not in this lifetime.” And wasn’t that odd wording? “Are we gonna grapple there?”
“Think you can hold on?”
“Yeah!”
He kneels down so the boy can climb onto his back and lock his arms around his neck and hook his feet together around his torso. Danny is worryingly light as he stands.
The kid is the picture of an excited and overeager child as they carefully fly over rooftops and then drive back to the Cave. Even when they park inside the safety of the Batcave, Danny’s eyes are filled with child-like awe and wonder, so curious and chattering with questions and wild imagination. It would be cute, endearing even, if the jar of eyes wasn’t sitting heavily in his pocket.
Alfred came down not too long after their arrival with a tray of healthy snacks and some waters. Danny happily munches on the apple slices as he wanders around where Tim can see him.
The rumble of the Batmobile can be heard almost an hour later after Tim has to tell Danny not to touch the weapons for the fourth time. The kid’s attention is drawn to the sleek black vehicle as it parks by Tim’s bike. He trots over with wide eyes as the doors open and Robin exits, then Batman.
Unfortunately, Dick is in Bludhaven and Jason is visiting Roy and Lian this week. Cass and Steph were gone as well and Duke was sleeping. It was just the three of them and this kid with Alfred as the only buffer.
Danny stares openly, curious, as the duo makes their way over to the computer where Tim has claimed his sit.
Tim turns the jar that he set on the table so the eyes are facing them and slowly leans back again, suddenly very tired. Damian flexes his hands into fists tightly while Batman is very still.
“Hi,” Danny chirps like nothing is wrong, oblivious to the tension in the air.
Batman takes a measured breath. Robin glares down at the child, but remains silent for now.
“Who killed Ra’s Al Ghul?”
Danny blinks blankly.
“Nobody.”
“You’re saying he just dropped dead?” Damian sneered in sarcasm.
“Death took him,” the child says simply as if that explained everything.
“How?” The word is demanded and emphasized.
“Like Death takes everyone. His expiration was overdue.”
Bruce frowns and Damian almost snarls.
“I demand you start making sense!”
Danny glares back in offense.
“I’m being very clear! Maybe you should ask better questions!”
The twelve year old growls at the smaller child and Batman has to place a firm hand on his shoulder to keep him from attacking.
“Danny?” Batman questions after a tense moment.
The boy’s arms are crossed in irritation, but he blinks out of his glare to stare up at the man.
“Yea?”
“How do you know our identities?”
“Oh, memories.”
Danny looked like everything he said made sense and it was driving Tim up a wall.
“Memories,” Bruce repeats.
“Uh-huh,” Danny nods confidently. “From the Lazarus Pit.”
A jolt goes through Tim as he recalls what the boy said earlier about the Pit.
“Didn’t you say the Pit was gone?” He asks before Bruce could continue his line of questioning.
Danny turns with a bright smile as if he was proud Tim remembered.
“Yea! Well, gone from this world anyway.” Tim was concerned. “I took the memories from it before sending it back where it belongs.”
“Okay. How did you know how to ‘take the memories’ and send it back? Back where?”
“I was born from it. Duh. It went back to the Realms or I guess you’d call it the Afterlife,” Danny actually rolls his eyes as if they should already know this.
“Born from it?” Damian asks with a wavering voice, hidden well from the child but not from them. “Nothing has ever been born from the Pits.”
“That you know of.”
And wasn’t that the kicker.
“So, to clarify, you come from the Pits. You know who we are because you took the memories from said Pits. Death took Ra’s because his time was up. And you took the eyes from his corpse to give to me because you thought I would like it as a gift so I would do something for you.”
Danny positively beams.
“This is why you’re my favorite!”
Damian grinds his teeth harshly.
“What is it you want Red Robin to do for you?” Batman asks in strangled hesitation.
“Oh!” Danny perks up like he remembered and hops over to Tim with pleading hands. “Can you please make me an identity? You’re really good at all that stuff and I was hoping you could find me a family. Someone to adopt me. A nice family, with a bed and family dinners and a dog. I always wanted a dog.”
Tim has the sudden urge to scream.
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bluerosefox · 6 months
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Summoning the Summoner
Another summoning/long lost family au but with twist!
So Damian and his class are at Gotham museum for a small field trip for a school project. Thing is none of them knew until it was too late that the new museum curator was part of a cult that had plans to kidnap and sacrifice this class of kids for some ancient god/deity/spirit.
Damian barely manages to send a message to one of his brothers and to the cave before being knocked out when he sees his classmates dropping from knocknout gas.
When he wakes up the preparations for the sacrifice are almost ready. Damian being the most prominent person in the class is going to be the one chosen first. He is then taken to the alter and it begins after the whole villain speech. Damian does manage to get out of his bindings and tries to fight back, does lead them on a merry little chase to get more time for his family to come, nothing to Robiny though, but is forcibly restrained again.
Just as they bring Damian back to the alter none of them notice, or rather, care that Damian was bleeding from getting hit when they recaptured him. None of them notice when the blood dropped from his chin onto the summoning circle because the Batclan (any) just dropped into the room.
They did notice however when the summoning circle started glowing beneath them however.
And none of the cultists had time to finish the summoning chant.
Meaning the summoning circle was not under their control.
And before any of them could do anything, they are all ripped away from the Mortal Realm and everyone, Damian, his class, the cultists, and the Batfam in the room are pulled into the Infinite Realms.
They are no longer in the warehouse they were about to be sacrificed in but in a throne room. Surrounded by glowing floating people and some don't even look human.
And sitting on the throne was a teenager with a shoulder wrapped cape made of stars and galaxies, a crown of ice, stars, and aurora borealis lights shifting in between them, about Damian's age, with white hair and glowing green eyes who looked rather shocked.
The reason? Both him and Damian shared the same face.
-x-x-
Danny was annoyed as heck.
Ever since his crowning it was like every magic user from legendary to mediocre got a notice that a new Infinite Realms King had been crowned and that gave them the go ahead and try to freaking Summon him!
Luckily refusing a summons was well within Danny's Ghost King rights, he's King now he does what he wants (Sam's wise words), and the only summonings Danny answered were his friends and family (Dani is such a troll with it though, butttttt it does get him out of those annoying meetings sometimes and they get to hang out wherever she decided to stop at), sometimes he'd answer the odd teenage morons just to scare them (it's always fun)
Although there were a few summonings outside of that, that he had answered. Thankfully he could sense what kind of summoner was summoning him and intent was always a huge thing. And those that didn't feel like insane fruitloops well... Danny's curiosity often took over.
So imagine his annoyance when he felt another summon happening in the middle of a meeting with his council. But also imagine his surprise when the normally tight demands on the summoning wasn't there...
That meant...
Oh Danny was going to have a lot of fun with this.
This meant they summoning but don't have control on which way the summoning was going to go. Meaning, Danny could reverse summon them to him instead.
With a wide grin he instantly waved his hand and the meeting room shifted to his throne room, might as well pull out all the stops and play the "Big Bag Ghost King"
He could see his council (and good friends and allies) raise their eyebrows at him or tilt their heads but could also sense the attempted summonings power of him and knew he had something planned.
With a short laugh, Danny raised his hand, grasped on the invisible summoning line, and pulled.
Now he was expecting a good amount of people, the summoning felt large so that normally meant cultists but he was expecting so many! Heck some looked to be teenagers his age, and a few oddly dressed people besides the cultists! Oh boy did that mean sacrifices?! Well he'll be happy to put those cultists in their place if that was the case.
But first, find the summoner. Separate them from the group and -
Oh... why... why does he have Danny's face?!
Danny took a quick look at the normally invisible to everyone but him Summoning line and almost choked when he saw it was a sibling line, a blood sibling line.
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jinjeriffic · 4 months
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DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 5
Part 4
After collecting their bags from the library lockers Jazz led him down the hallway until she found a small, unlocked, empty classroom. The room was barren except for desks and a whiteboard. I guess they don’t bother locking it if there’s nothing worth stealing.
Jazz sat her messenger bag down on the teacher’s desk and pulled a whiteboard marker out of a side pocket.
“Right,” Jazz began, “I don’t know how much you know about ecto-entities and since, as you said, the reports on them tend to be pretty biased, I’m just going to start from scratch. Sounds good?” she rambled.
Tim hopped up onto the front row desk and tried his best to look like an attentive teacher’s pet.
“Yes, Ms Fenton,” he said cheekily.
Jazz gave him an amused look.
“Careful Mr Taylor, or you’ll end up in detention,” she said lightly. She turned to the whiteboard and gathered her thoughts for a moment, then wrote ECTO-ENTITIES in large block letters, “Many people refer to all ecto-entities as ghosts, but this is actually a misnomer. Ghosts as most people think of them, i.e. the restless spirits of the dead, are only a small subset of the ectoplasmic population. There’s plenty of them that were never human to begin with,” higher up on the board, she wrote INFINITE REALMS, “Ecto-entities originate from a parallel dimension to ours, which is called the Infinite Realms by its inhabitants. Though my parents refer to it as the Ghost Zone, that name is woefully inadequate.” Jazz paused and glanced at him.
“Kinda like foreigners renaming places instead of using the one in the native language, gotcha,” Tim nodded. They had dealt with alternate realities before, so this wasn’t completely out of left field. He would go along with it for now. Jazz gave him a small smile.
“That’s right!” she said and tapped the whiteboard, “Now, the Infinite Realms and our dimension are closely interconnected, like two sides of the same coin. Large scale damage to one would cause similar devastation on the opposite side and vice versa,” she gave him a serious look.
“Which makes the hostile attitude of the paranormal research community rather worrying,” Tim mused, “If someone did something stupid the blowback would hit us too,” If he wasn’t trained to read people he would have missed the slight tightening around Jazz’s eyes.
“That’s the theory anyway. And it’s not like the US government ever dropped bombs on people just to see what would happen,” she chirped with false cheeriness.
There’s a story there, Tim thought, and not the kind you would find in a history book. What the hell has been going on?
“I’m guessing getting access to the Infinite Realms isn’t as easy as calling an Uber though,” he joked.
“You’d be surprised,” Jazz said wryly, receiving a raised eyebrow in response, “there are places where the barrier between worlds is naturally thin, allowing temporary rifts to form more easily, but they can pop up pretty much anywhere in the world. It’s what allows ecto-entities to enter our dimension. It’s also not unheard of for humans to stumble into the Realms either, though they’re lucky to return at all,” she twirled the marker between her fingers, “Time doesn’t seem to work the same way in the Realms as it does here. Just in case you ever come across one, make sure to leave through the same portal you entered. Otherwise you might find yourself stranded in the Middle Ages, or far in the future with everyone you know and love long dead.”
Tim had to fight to keep down a wince. The whole Bruce Lost In Time Debacle was still an emotional scar for the family, they really didn’t need a repeat performance.
“Duly noted.”
“Some entities are able to open and close rifts at will,” Jazz continued, unfazed by Tim’s dry tone, ”though that ability seems to be pretty rare. It probably requires an unusual level of power or incursions would be much more common.”
“That would explain the little disappearing trick Damian’s delivery guy pulled,” Jason murmured through Tim’s earpiece, “But does that mean we’re dealing with a fucking super ghost?”
Tim gave a thoughtful hum and drummed his fingers against the edge of the desk.
“Do you think humans could open a portal to the Realms?”
Jazz gave him a wry smile.
“You just summed up the bulk of my parents’ research over the last two decades. They managed to build a functioning portal about two years ago.”
Tim choked. Jason swore.
“What?! But that’s-! How is that not all over the news?!” Tim sputtered. Jazz just sighed.
“My parents have been ranting about ghosts since they were in college,” she said wearily, ”Most of the scientific community had written them off as crackpots years ago. It doesn’t help that large concentrations of ectoplasm generate some kind of interference that messes with recording equipment. Short of kidnapping the naysayers and shoving them bodily through the Fenton Ghost Portal it’s hard to prove anything. And thankfully even my parents aren’t that crazy,” she finished with an eye roll.
Tim buried his face in his hands. An interdimensional portal. What the fuck. He thought back on everything Jazz had told him so far.
“What’s ectoplasm?”
“You’ve been paying attention!” she smiled and added some notes to the whiteboard, “Ectoplasm is the basic building block of everything in the Infinite Realms, and by extension ecto-entities. Hence the name. It’s the equivalent of matter in our dimension; atoms, protons, quarks, etcetera. I’m not a physicist, so I can’t tell you exactly how it works, but that’s why ecto-entities are able to interact with our physical world in such fascinating ways. Flight, intangibility and invisibility are all common abilities for them.”
“Wow, what a fucking security nightmare. B is gonna freak,” Jason groused. Tim tuned him out to focus on Jazz’s continued explanation.
“My parents have been experimenting with using ectoplasm for power generation, but it’s proven extremely volatile. It seems like it’s affected by things like belief and emotion which is absolutely fascinating,” she said with a gleam in her eye, “not to mention its effects on organic tissue. Have you ever had your dinner come to life and try to eat you?”
Tim had a sudden, horrible suspicion.
“Can’t say that I have,” he managed to squeeze out past the lump in his throat, “Um… Jazz, what does ectoplasm look like?”
“Well that depends on what it’s been affected and shaped by but in its raw form it looks like a bright green, glowing liquid,” she tilted her head, “Why do you ask?”
Over the comms, Jason made a sound like someone had kicked him in the crotch.
“Lazarus water?! Is she talking about the fucking pits?!” he choked out.
Tim made a valiant effort to keep his own reaction in check.
“Oh, just wondering how I’ll recognize a ghost- er, ecto-entity when I see one,” he lied with fake casualness, “You mentioned something about powers?”
“Yes! All the entities we’ve encountered so far have exhibited powers which are common to their species, as well as additional powers that seem to depend on the individual core. I’ve theorized that powers develop as a response to stress related to either their Obsession or death trauma…” Jazz trailed off, “aaaaaand I’ve lost you.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, I know I have a tendency to ramble,” she said sheepishly and considered the bullet points she had written so far, “Let me backtrack a bit. Not all ecto-entities are ghosts. There’s personifications of concepts, which I theorize are formed through the collective consciousness of living beings. They are entities which represent Hope or Justice or-”
“Time?” Tim interjected. Jazz gave him a calculating look.
“...sure. They are among the most powerful entities and have powers related to what they represent. I suspect they may have even been worshipped as gods at some point. You definitely wouldn’t want to mess with them,” at Tim’s nod, she continued, “There’s also the Neverborn, which are formed when ecto-entities choose to reproduce. They are entirely of the Infinite Realms, and thus were never ‘born’ into our world.”
“Ghosts can have children?” he said, surprised.
“Yes, although I’ve never been able to get the details on how it works. They don’t like to discuss it with outsiders. And considering they can look like dragons or disembodied floating eyeballs I’m not sure I’d want to know the exact mechanics,” she joked.
“I’m sure there’s plenty of people who’d disagree with you on that,” Tim muttered, then paused. “Wait, dragons?”
Jazz waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. The point is that there’s way more to the other side than most people realize. There’s probably lots of things I’ve never even heard of. It’s quite exciting, really!”
Tim worried about it. A lot. Jason had also gone suspiciously quiet.
“So, ghosts are just the tip of the iceberg?” Tim hedged.
“Exactly. What sets them apart from other ecto-entities is that they are usually created upon the death of someone or something from our dimension, which gives them motivation to come back here,” Jazz added more notes and arrows to the whiteboard. “All entities have something they call a core; think of it as their central organ or brain. It houses their consciousness, and its nature affects what powers they get. There’s all kinds of elemental cores like fire and water, but also more esoteric ones like shadow or technology. An ecto-entity’s body is composed of ectoplasm and moulded by their core. Their physical form is malleable and heavily based on their self-perception. With experience they can change shape to suit their needs.”
Tim mentally added shapeshifting to the growing list of powers to worry about. So far it sounded a lot like a Martian’s.
“So can ecto-entities grow and age?”
“It depends. The Neverborn usually do, but a lot of ghosts have a bit of a Peter Pan thing going on where they don’t want to. They are often ‘stuck’ at the age they were when they died, physically and mentally. Though there’s always exceptions.”
Tim hummed thoughtfully. Something had been bothering him since ghosts had first entered the equation.
“Jazz, if ghosts don’t age or die, why aren’t they all over the place? Even if rifts are rare, shouldn’t there be hundreds of thousands of years worth of dead folks wandering the Earth?”
She gave him a sad smile.
“I never said ghosts couldn’t die, Adam,” she said carefully, ”And not everyone who dies comes back as a ghost. The ones who do typically have some unfinished business holding them back. Like an obsession they never got to fulfill, or a loved one they are watching over. Once they are done, they are free to move on to whatever Afterlife awaits them,” she sighed and crossed her arms, “It also takes a lot of energy for a ghost to do anything in our world. I think a majority of them never hit that level, or can’t keep it up for any significant amount of time. It’s also part of the reason my parents are so biased against them.”
“I’m not sure I follow.”
“Think about it. Most ecto-entities are just like regular people, going about their business and keeping their heads down. The ones who are both motivated to cross into our world, powerful enough to manifest and tend to make themselves known are the troublemakers. It would be like an alien looking at the population of Belle Reve and concluding that the majority of humans must be super villains! It’s sample bias.”
Tim bit his lip. This all sounded worryingly plausible, which would mean a literal world of trouble about to come down on their heads. Fuck, just what we needed.
“You mentioned that ghosts can die. I assume you don’t mean from old age, right?” he queried. Jazz looked at him wearily.
“You’d be right. If an ecto-entity’s core is too badly damaged, they will cease to exist,” she said cautiously, “It doesn’t help that ghosts tend to maintain a strength based social hierarchy and are fiercely protective of their territory. Ecto-entities usually have a lair within the Infinite Realms, and those who cross over to our dimension often establish a haunt to call their own. Any intruders would be met with violence,” she sighed and rubbed her forehead, “My parents have also been developing weapons to fight ghosts with… varying degrees of success. A lot of their tech runs on ectoplasm which makes it pretty temperamental.”
Seeing Jazz’s obvious discomfort with the topic, Tim decided to switch tracks.
“Is there any way to tell for sure if my brother came back as a ghost?”
Relieved at the change, Jazz made a see-sawing motion with her hand.
“Kind of? My parents tried for ages to build a ghost detector but they never got it to work quite right. Too much ambient ectoplasm in Amity I guess,” she shrugged as if that statement wasn’t extremely worrying. “You could always grab a ouija board or something and try asking. Just… don’t ask a ghost about their death. It’s a major trauma for most of them and there’s no better way to send them into a frothing rage. If they volunteer the information that’s one thing, but to ask about it is like the social faux pas among ecto-entities.”
Tim nodded and made a mental note to get his hands on some Fenton tech. He had a feeling it was going to be a long week for him.
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Jason and Tim didn’t speak until they were safely back in the car. Tim was mentally composing the report they would have to make to Bruce. He was not looking forward to his reaction.
“So,” Jason began with fake casualness, “an interdimensional portal in Illinois.”
“Yep.”
“Creatures made of fucking Lazarus Water.”
“Sounds like it.”
“And we still don’t know if our mystery meta is Bruce’s dead kid or not.”
Tim groaned.
“It all adds up though, doesn’t it? The camera glitching, the powers, the portal…”
“And that damned prophecy. The personification of Time, huh?”
Tim pinched his nose to stave off the growing headache. They contemplated the fucked up situation they had stumbled into in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Jason sighed and started up the engine.
“Rock-paper-scissors for who has to tell B?”
Part 6
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orionremastered · 5 months
Text
Damian Wayne x Paramedic!Reader
Soulmate AU
Part One, Part Two, Part Three (finale)
The ache in your chest had been there for a week now, and it was becoming your new best friend. Coincidentally, the first and only time you talked to your soulmate was also a week ago.
You hadn’t expected it at first, and you even asked Harper to check if you were going to have a heart attack in the back of the ambulance during a meal break.
As you figured, nothing was wrong.
So after a long night shift, a shower and dinner for breakfast, you were almost, and by almost I mean seconds away from falling asleep.
A knock at the door snaps your eyes open and with a grumble, you get out of bed and get yourself into more appropriate clothing than sleepwear.
“I’m going to kill whoever's at the door,” you grumble, glaring through the peephole before you opened the door.
This was Gotham, and you weren’t stupid.
It wasn’t the Ridddler or the Joker, but rather your soulmate. Standing in a black jacket with the hood over his head, waiting patiently in the middle of the hallway.
Unlocking the door and pushing it open, you narrow your eyes at the tall and no doubt muscular figure.
“How the fuck do you know where I live?”
“Hello,” he greets, walking past you and into your apartment, gazing at it like he’s on a sightseeing tour. With a grumble, you close the door behind him and lock it again.
“What do you want?” The ache in your chest was gone but your heart craved even the slightest touch, begging you and pulling you towards him. Your other half.
“I want to talk,” Damian admits after a short pause, hanging his jacket on the hook by the door. “Something you apparently don’t want to do.”
“How are you feeling?”
“It’s been a week, habibi,” he points out, raising a dark eyebrow. “Don’t try and change the subject.”
“What does habibi mean?”
Your apartment goes silent before finally, Damian sighs. “I’m certain you’ll figure it out eventually. Now, we’re going to talk about this without you trying to change the subject-”
“I’m pretty sure I’ve made my stance on this very clear,” you state, lightly emphasizing each word in order for it to sink in. “I cannot have publicity if I want to be able to do my job.”
Being a paramedic was the biggest achievement of your life- a ‘fuck you’ to your parents, an amazing work partner, a fulfilling life- the pay didn’t matter much to you, and that’s what your parents hated.
“That’s fine. You don’t have to go to galas or anything similar.” His tone changes, “But you can’t just give up an entire relationship-”
“I don’t think you understand just how public of a figure you are,” you interrupt. “You could’ve been followed here by paparazzi- they follow you everywhere. I can’t be walking on eggshells whenever I want to go outside with you.”
“I wasn’t followed,” he says with a frown. “And… that is a valid point.” His jaw clenches, unclenches and finally he sighs his thoughts into the air. “What if we just try? This is all theory but in practice we might be able to pull it off.”
“That’s a lot of stress for someone that already has a high-stress job.”
Damian’s head snaps towards you, a grin slowly forming on his face. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
He explained it all. You kept thinking that was it but no, he kept going. The gist is; he was an assassin, then Robin, now Batman.
It created more problems than solutions but you were somewhat willing to hear him out. It was almost midday now and you were exhausted.
“And your plan is what, exactly?”
“You don’t date me, you date Batman. He’s a ‘public’ figure but he’s a different kind of public than a Wayne.”
You didn’t think it was a bad idea, much to your surprise. It could work, and perhaps not just as a temporary fix.
Your heart was screaming at you by now, kicking and shouting for you to just give in.
“That sounds doable.”
A smile, genuine and bright and rare, breaks out onto Damian’s face. He wraps his strong arms around you, pulls you close and is finally able to kiss you lightly on the forehead before resting his head on yours.
You were soaring in warmth and joy and you were finally here, where you needed to be. You could make this work. You will make this work.
And for the first time as you stand in your soulmate’s arms, you want to make this work.
~~~
Masterlist
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kizzer55555 · 12 days
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I had a crack idea and I really like your content I was wondering if you would like to hear it
Damien had an Over The Moon moment with Danny
Over The Moon Is about a little girl while building a rocket to the moon to meet a goddess so she can get advice about accepting the death of her mother
As a child Damien remembers one of his caretakers telling him the story of the god Phantom how something happened to him and how he floated up and away to space and became their God but could never see his family or friends ever again
Story that Damian got told was incredibly popular one in the infinite realms about King Phantom after he had to shut down the portals to the infinite rounds from the human world to keep the ghost safe and himself
And the ghost saw this heavily liminal child is like oh let me tell him the story of the space god Phantom
This was when Damien was still dueling Talia to find out who his birth father is and like a few days before his birthday Damien actually did find a portal that led to the infinite Realms
He ended up meeting ghosts like the Box Ghost or Johnny 13 and Kitty and going on a big adventure to the infinite rounds to meet High King Phantom who encouraged him to venture out there and find out about what it's connected to him
And turn there was a portrait made of Damien and Danny of Danny being in Royal where in Damien sitting on his lap with the brightest smile on his face
Damien ends up going back home and never telling anyone else in the League of assassins or in bat family about his adventure in the infinite Realms and king Phantom
Damien ends up getting into it like a really bad argument with Bruce and feeling unwanted so decided to go back you get advice from Phantom it ended up taking Jon with him
The bat family have to realizing that Damien's gone missing are spending most of their time trying to find Damien when Constantine calls them and shows them a portrait of Damien and the ghost King
Which leads the bat family thinking that Damian got kidnapped by the ghost King probably because of the Lazarus pits while Damian and Jonathan are out there living their Disney adventure
So the bat family and Constantine summon the Ghost came to the man Damien back while Damien trying to convince Danny at the world is changing that he might be able to go back home and see the people he loves
Anyway I just kept having the idea of Damian singing my rocket to the moon but changing out the lyrics
Anyway I hope you like my dumb idea and you might watch Over The Moon it's really good movie
This is such a cool idea! Unfortunately I don’t know much about over the moon but here’s my little spin on this idea.
The Justice league do the summoning but unfortunatly, they are still under the impression that the ghost king is Pariah Dark. So there is a bit of interference. So the summoning latches onto the last person to touch Pariah Dark (AKA his coffin) and while Danny did defeat the previous king in single combat, he wasn’t the one to turn the key. No, the last person to touch Pariah Dark was one Vlad Plasmius. So when the JL starts the summoning, they get a very confused Plasmius and before he can comprehend what’s happening a bunch of angry and colorful adults just start demanding that he return Damian.
Vlad has no idea who these people are. He has no idea who this Damian kid is. And no matter what he says, none of these strange costumed adults believe him! He’s not even the ghost king!
JL: lies. Lies and slander.
And THEN, ooooh, and then he wasn’t the only one summoned. For Maddie the cat was right there and unfortunately got caught in the summoning because it was feeding time. And because she wasn’t a ghost, naturally she was able to wander outside the circle. The JL, having multiple interactions with Kalrion assume this is the ghost king’s familiar and snatch up the fluffy white cat.
Vlad can only stare in horror.
The. Pure. AUDACITY.
You know what? FINE! Yes! It is I! The ghost king! I have your PrEcIOse little boy! You want him back?! THEN GIVE ME BACK MY CAT!
So here Damian and Jon are, having the time of their lives, chilling in a strangely warm ice castle with Danny and telling him their problems, giving Cujo scratches and meanwhile, Vlad is screaming bloody murder from his summoning circle.
JL: give us back our child!
Vlad: Give me back my princess before I ERaSe YouR exIStaNce and I’ll think about it [insert intelligible ghost swear]
Constantine: *dramatic gasp* How DARE you?!
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kimberly-spirits13 · 7 months
Text
Playground Chaos
Pairing: Jason Todd x reader
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1450
Summary: Dick decides that everyone needs to go to the playground to kill time during patrol. Jason pushes you on the swing, and chaos ensues.
The inspiration video
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Darkness loomed over Gotham as its heroes leaped from building to building, searching for anything amiss in the sounds of the city. The car lights from below reflected on the glass windows of the skyscrapers around you and the sounds of the streets filled your ears. Someone was playing a popular pop song very loudly in one of the offices below you and a different person was taking a smoke break by the front door of a late-night dinner. Neon lights danced in the night as you zipped along the grappling rope that you had shot from one smaller building to the bank, where the infamous Red Hood was perched. 
            “All clear on 2nd Street.” You said walking up behind the brooding figure, “Heard anything from anyone else?”
            Jason turned around to face you and lurched forward for a tight embrace, “Dick has been ranting about how bored he is for the past 15 minutes.” “I want to get out of here.” 
            “There’s only 30 minutes left of patrol and then we can crash.” You said, your head falling into the crook of his neck.
            A crack in the comms in your ears made you pull away to turn your earpiece back on to the group and not just Jason.   
            “We should go to the playground.” Dick’s voice rang out into your ear.
            “That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.” Damian replied quickly, “We are elite fighters, not children.”
            “Technically demon-spawn, you’re a child.” The sound of a snarky Tim made you laugh as you reached up to reply.
            “What playground?” You asked.
            Jason shot you a look as you shrugged your shoulders, “Hey, Bats would not be happy if we came back early so, we might as well do something since there’s nothing else to do.”
            “I guess you’re right doll.”
            “Besides, we can probably bust some creep hanging around the playground.”
            “At this time of night?” Jason almost snorted.          
            “You never know in Gotham. At this time of night, they’re probably high of their rockers.”
            “We’ll meet everyone at the West End playground.” You said into the comms.
            The West End of Gotham was one of the nicer sides of Gotham. There probably wouldn’t be anything suspicious happening, but for the gaggle of vigilantes playing on the playground. You and Jason glided down the building using your grappling guns to keep from plummeting off the side of the bank. When your feet met the ground, you pulled your grapple back in and got onto the back of Jason’s bike, quickly followed by Jason who pushed the kick stand up and started the engine. 
            “You know, when you get your bike back from the shop, we can go on a road trip.” Jason said as you bolted out of the alleyway.
            “Sounds fun. We could ride up to Salem when the leaves get bright again.” 
            “That little coffee shop that you like should be open that week so we can book a room at one of the inns and stay there.” Jason agreed as he turned onto some other street leading towards where you were meant to be. 
            When you got to the playground, Dick, Tim, Damian, Stephanie, and Cass were already there. They must have been close enough already to beat you since it was unlikely that they would have made it faster than Jason’s bike.
            “Well look who finally showed up.” Stephanie came over to you and nudged your side, “We thought you got lost.”
            “I don’t get lost Steph.” Jason took your helmet from you and set it on the bike’s seat, earning a quite “thank you” from you.
            “Timmy lets go on the seesaw.” Dick ran over to the blue and silver seesaw like a kid with a sugar high and sat ready for Tim to climb onto the other side. 
            Cass and Damian got onto the other seesaw with the two casually talking. Dick and Tim were attempting to balance each other on the seesaw and you, and Stephanie were sitting on the swings, lightly swinging back and forth until Stephanie decided that she wanted to try and flip over the bar. 
            “Steph, if you die, I’ll give a warm eulogy at your funeral.” You said laughing at her attempts of gaining speed on the swing.
            “I really appreciate that Y/N/N.”
            Jason stood behind you and watched everyone contently. He saw the smiles on Tim and Dick’s faces and how Cass was coaxing Damian into laughing at whatever they were talking about. He worried for Steph and whether they’d have to carry her out together or if she’d successfully land whenever she inevitably went flying off the swing set. 
            “Jay, you know you can join us.” You grabbed his hand and pulled him closer to you as you swung back and forth.
            “I’m good babe. Can I push you?” He started to walk behind you when you told him he could and lightly began to push you on the swing. 
            Jason didn’t push you too high, but instead talked to you about whatever came to mind as Stephanie began to attempt to flip next to you.             
            “You good Blondie?” Jason snickered seeing her try to make it over the bar. The entire swing set was starting to shake as she climbed higher and higher.
            “You know, I don’t think this is going to flip me anymore.” She said through giggles, “Is there something stopping it?” 
            “Yeah Steph, there’s a little bar on the top of the hinge keeping it from flipping.” You said, “You can still get a good jump off the swing though.” 
            You could feel the near disappointment radiating off Stephanie which was quickly diffused by her leaping from the swing and landing on her feet a few yards away. When she turned around, she gave a small bow and you clapped for her success jokingly.
            “Wait you guys are so cute!” Steph gasped as she saw Jason pushing you on the swing, something that she had not really been paying attention to when she was on her airborne escapade.
            You blushed and heard Jason laugh softly behind you as he grabbed onto the small of your waist, slowing you down little by little. Stephanie’s attention was taken off you when Dick and Tim started trying to launch each other off the seesaw.
            “I think your brother is about to die.” You started laughing at the two and saw Cass pull out her phone to film the two boys.
            “Which one?” Jason started playing with your hair and braiding it back into a messy fishtail.
            “Both.” You replied, earning a giggle from Jason before he finished off your braid.
            Laugher rang out into the night before Dick pipped up, challenging Tim.
            “Okay Tim, go all the way down.” Dick said, “Okay now jump as hard as you can.” 
            Tim did what he was told, lifting himself into the air harshly. Dick came down with a thud before flying into the air. The entire point of the two boys being insane on the seesaw was the lift themselves off the seat without falling off. In order to do this, the boys had to push against the handlebar of the seesaw to keep themselves from falling off the front of the seat. 
            When Tim threw Dick into the air, the expected happened where Dick didn’t hold on tight enough and he went flying off the seesaw, hitting the ground with a large thud. Laughter roared from everyone the park as Dick rolled over onto his back with tears of laughter coming from his eyes. Jason leaned against you laughing and couldn’t compose himself to stand up. Tim was laying on the ground wheezing and Cass was proudly filming it all.
            “Please, tell me someone got that on video!” Dick cried between laughs.
            “I did!” Cass yelled, “I got that on video!”
            “I thought I taught you to land better than that.” A deep voice came from the shadows, startling all of you.       
            “You saw that?” Dick screamed. 
            “From the launch to the fall.” Bruce was smiling, almost laughing at his oldest.
            “Why are you here?” Steph was the first to ask the question.
            “You guys are an hour late getting home from patrol, so I came to make sure nothing was wrong. When I saw that you were here, I figured you were killing time and didn’t know how late it was.” 
            “The Big Bats coming to check on his kids.” Tim laughed, “What a sight.” 
            You stood up off the swing after recovering from what had happened and grabbed onto Jason’s hand, “want to go home now?” He whispered into your ear. 
            “Only after I know I have that video.” 
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south-of-heaven · 8 months
Note
Judgement Day x reader where the reader loves hugs so much, they practically cling onto any of them like a koala bear. Reader is afraid she might be too clingy, but they assure her that they love it
Close || The Judgement Day x Reader
Summary: You're very clingy, you're not sure if your partners actually like it. They assure you they do.
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Your inclination for clinginess had never been a secret, but it was something you had always been a little self-conscious about. You couldn't help it; you just loved being close to your partners, always craving their touch and affection.
Tonight, as the five of you lounged on the couch, you were especially in need of their warmth and proximity. Finn noticed your yearning gaze and opened his arms, inviting you in. You didn't hesitate, quickly shifting onto his lap as he embraced you.
"Come here, love," he whispered, his voice a soothing melody as he held you securely.
Dominik, sitting next to you, stroked your hair with gentle fingers, his affectionate touch a source of immense comfort. On your other side, Rhea reached for your hand, her grip firm and reassuring.
Damian, noticing your desire for closeness, rested his hand on your knee, his thumb gently tracing circles. The physical contact from all your partners created a cocoon of warmth and love that enveloped you entirely.
You couldn't help but smile, feeling like the luckiest person in the world. Your insecurities about being too clingy began to melt away as you realized that your partners not only accepted your need for closeness but cherished it. Their words of love and affection washed over you like a soothing balm, reassuring you that you were exactly where you belonged, surrounded by the people who loved you for who you were.
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cosmicflw3rr · 2 months
Text
cash in.
dominik mysterio x fem! reader
summary: you cash in at wrestlemania.
A/N: this is inspired by damian’s cash in, just something to put out while I work on my other things! btw pls request stuff I need to unleash my creativity 😈😈
btw in this short fic, for the inst post at the end im using pics from liv’s cash in, and a pic of bianca and montez but you can imagine yourself however you want it’s just pics i chose for the post :)
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your nerves were jumbled up as you watched bayley and iyo sky fight for the title. their feud had been going on for a while now and was finally going to be resolved at the grandest stage of them all.
what they didn’t know was that tonight you’d finally cash in the money in the bank contract you'd been clutching for months. you had never found the perfect moment to make your move. yet, something in the air felt different, electric. today was the day you'd cash it in; you could just feel it.
you had to look away from the screen at the amount of close calls the match had, you moved away from the monitor sitting down on the couch in the little spot the tv crew had for the judgement day. damian, finn, jd and rhea also watched the match intently.
you held your head with your hands, sighing. your leg bouncing up and down anxiously. dominik, your boyfriend sat down next to you placing his hand on your knee to stop it from bouncing.
as soon as dom's hand touched your knee, you paused and locked eyes with him. "hermosa, talk to me," he urged, understanding the weight of the evening on your shoulders, yet not wanting you to be overwhelmed by stress.
leaning back, you let out a groan, the frustration clear in your voice. "what if it doesn’t work? what if I can't cash in the contract?" you shared your fears, the pressure mounting. "I might not get a chance like this ever again." the uncertainty of it all was eating at you.
you were convinced this was a once-in-a-lifetime shot, but dom saw things differently. he knew just how incredible you were in the ring, how you owned every match you fought and put your heart into everything you did. so to hear you think you weren’t ever going to get an opportunity like that again hurt, because he knew you would.
“listen amor.” when you wouldn't meet his gaze, he gently tilted your chin up, eyes meeting yours, and saw the worry glistening there. with a soft, reassuring smile, he whispered, "amor, don't worry. you've got this. you're one of the best wrestlers out there, and no matter what happens, there will be more chances. believe in yourself like I believe in you." his words were the comfort you didn't know you needed.
you eyes met dom’s as you nodded, understanding flickering between you. suddenly, the bell echoed, one, two, three times. your head whipped around to the screen, and there it was—bayley's victory. the members from your faction turned to you, their faces a mix of surprise and disbelief.
aithout a second thought, you grabbed your briefcase and bolted towards the gorilla, heart racing. "I'm cashing in! I'm cashing in!" you shouted at the top of your lungs. the production crew exchanged quick glances, barely able to process your words as you grabbed a referee by his shirt and charged onto the stage, adrenaline fueling your every step.
running down the ramp as your theme blared through the arena, the crowd erupted in cheers, instantly recognizing the moment unfolding. You reached the ring sliding into it with the referee on your heels. you turned thrusting the briefcase into his hands, “I’m cashing in!” you yelled.
he looked down at the briefcase his voice tinged with uncertainty, "are you sure?"
without hesitation, you shouted back, "yes, I'm cashing in, do it!" your hand came down hard on the briefcase, affirming your decision. the buzz from the crowd surged through you, adrenaline coursing wildly through your veins.
bayley staggered to her feet, unsteady. you bounced on the balls of your feet, ready, and as the bell chimed for the third time, you quickly delivered your finisher, the ripcord flatliner.
she hit the mat, motionless. yet, the roar of the crowd told you to keep going. you quickly pulled her to the ring's center, seizing her legs and cinching in a figure four lock, the cheers growing impossibly louder.
the excitement from the crowd was electric and the adrenaline in your body was hard to contain.
with the figure four perfectly locked in, bayley was trapped, dead center of the ring with no hope of grabbing the ropes. you yelled, teeth gritted, tightening the hold. then, the moment came—bayley tapped out, the bell sounding three times.
your music blared out as you released her, you scooted back, your spine meeting the ropes, shock written on your face. your hands flew to cover your eyes, tears leaving paths down your cheeks as you sobbed, the crowd's roar drowning your thoughts, the reality of the moment not quite sinking in.
wiping your tears, you turned to the referee, who held the championship title towards you. grabbing it from, you sat there dazed, just gazing at the title, a fresh wave of tears blurring in your eyes as pride swelled within you.
you got to your feet, lifting your arm, and the cheers from the crowd grew even wilder. you let out a smile, wiping away those involuntary tears. just then, at the top of the ramp, you noticed the judgement day coming out, cheering you on.
without missing a beat, you slipped out of the ring and bolted up the ramp. reaching the top, you found dominik first, waiting for you. the two of you collided into a tight embrace, him lifting and twirling you off the ground.
when your feet touched solid ground, you stepped back, locking eyes with him briefly, then sharing a tender kiss. after the kiss, you both melted into another warm hug, your arms around his neck and his on your waist.
“I’m so proud of you baby. I told you everything would work out.” he whispered, stirring fresh tears in your eyes. you nodded against his shoulder.
"I love you so much," you choked out, voice trembling, tears streaming down. breaking from the embrace, he tenderly held your face, wiping away the tears, then kissed you once more.
a smile broke through as he stepped aside, revealing the judgement day, all hyped up. In an instant, they swept you and dom up in a massive group hug.
you all erupted in cheers, bouncing around with excitement as each one expressed their pride in you, bringing a beam to your face. the group hug ended, and everyone turned towards the ring.
in a swift move, dom and damian hoisted you onto their shoulders, your hands clutching the title as you raised it high, pyro blazing in the background.
with a joyful shout, you took in the cheering crowd. after soaking in the moment, they carefully lowered you back down. you lifted your hand in triumph one last time before Dom draped his arm over your shoulder.
backstage, away from the roaring crowd, the intimacy of the moment enveloped you and dom as the judgment day trailed behind. you wrapped your arms around dom once more, this hug deeper, more personal.
tears freely flowed as the weight of your victory hit you, and dom was there, a comforting presence, rubbing your back gently. "I am so, so proud of you, amor. you've earned this and so much more," he whispered, his words a soothing balm to your overwhelmed emotions.
pulling back from the embrace, you brushed away the lingering tears, offering him a tender kiss. "thank you, babe. for everything," you murmured with heartfelt gratitude.
"this was all you," he replied, his pride in you evident.
"maybe, but your support has been my rock, the thing that's kept me pushing forward," you said, your voice laced with appreciation. his smile then met yours, and he leaned in to seal your shared moment with another kiss.
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LIKED BY DOMINIK_35, RHEARIPLEY_WWE, ARCHEROFINFAMY, YAONLIVONCE & 5 MILLION OTHERS
y/n: and your new…
tagged: dominik_35
VIEW COMMENTS
dominik_35: so proud of you amor❤️
y/n: ❤️❤️❤️
rhearipley_wwe: all rise!!
y/n: judgement day is ALWAYS on top!!💜⚖️
yaonlylivonce: so happy for you! you deserve it!! 🥹❤️❤️
y/n: thank you so much liv! I love you so much!!🤍
archerofinfamy: proud of you chiquita💜
y/n: 💜
samanthairvinwwe: by far my fav name to call out tonight! congrats girl! you deserve it!! 👏💗
y/n: shhhh🤫 don’t let them know you have favorites😏
wwelover: was in sm shock watching! congratulations!!
y/n.vsp: the edits I alr have lined up for this😝
wrestlingstan: I KNEW SHED CASH IN! OMG!
WWE: your new women’s champion!
y/n: thank you to all of you who gave me the opportunity❤️.
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Text
Dips and Valleys | Damian Wayne
✦ pairing — older!Damian Wayne x afab!female!Plus Size Reader
✦ word count — 2.5k
✦ request — I was wondering if I could request a older Damian Wayne x Plus size reader nsfw? Which would be that they are experiencing some new foreplay with Damian being the sub for once by being tied up in a chair getting teased real well to the point he doesn't make it. It would be funny if Damian had enough of her teasing and skillfully untied those ropes and well... become his dom self and had his way with her
✦ warnings — nsfw, switching, teasing, chair bondage (male receiving), brief marking (male recieving), cum play, cum swallowing, fellatio, unprotected sex (please don't do this), vaginal sex, implied creampie, aftercare.
✦ MINORS DNI
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Damian was still for once, looking up at you with feigned patience.
There was something about him being tied up to your vanity chair specifically that got to you; something somewhat primal, possessive to an extent.
Tracing the dips and valleys of his toned body, something you have done countless of times before, felt new this time around that he couldn't touch you back.
You had thought about this before, about what it would feel like to have him at your mercy like he often had you at his.
Damian looked so pretty, gazing at you through his lashes, sighing in pleasure as you touched him. The look suited him, almost everything did.
He shuffled as a reflex, so used to touching you that he forgot he was tied up until the silk around his wrists reminded him so.
But he didn't complain, he liked pleasing you a little too much. And you knew he was curious.
Leaning in, you kissed him just because you missed his lips, hands firm on his shoulders. He twitched; once again reminded that he wasn't in control, that he would have to wait until next time to get his hands on you.
He let out a desperate whimper, boosting your ego and encouraging you to kiss him more firmly, to indulge him by letting your tongue slide past his full lips, purposefully dragging your hands down his chest.
Damian tried to push himself forward, attempting to kiss you just the way he liked to. You couldn't help but giggle against his lips, relishing on his desperation so much that you feared he might have created a monster.
"Stop teasing," he demanded in a poorly-hidden whine.
He sounded delightful. His accent always came out richer when he was aroused, but the lilt of his neediness could easily become your favorite.
"Will you beg me?" you lightheartedly asked against his bottom lip.
Damian shook his head yet didn't dare to remind you that he never begged.
The outline of his cock was clear, straining his underwear. You almost felt bad for him; that was until you remembered every instance he had teased you until you couldn't take it anymore.
You brushed your knuckles against his clothed cock, pressing your lips to his jaw. His cock twitched.
Damian cursed under his breath, nuzzling his face against yours as he tried to get you to kiss him again.
Resting both your hands on his thighs, you pushed your body onto him, lightly pressing your lips against his. He parted his mouth, but you didn't kiss him.
He said your name, attempting a warning tone that came out desperate. It made you giggle which earned you a pout.
Because your intentions weren't to neglect him, only to tease him, you dragged your lips downward, finding compromise on his neck. Damian started grunting the moment your hands started moving up and down his thighs, lingering upward but away from his crotch.
You would have thought it was harder for you than it was for him if it weren't for his squirms and sighs.
Not giving in to the urge to kiss him until his lips were swollen was pure torture when he sounded so desperate, when he looked at you like he needed you.
"Why do you..." he trailed off, exhaling through his mouth as yours licked up his neck.
"Why do I what?" you asked, amused.
Damian didn't answer immediately, prompting you to kiss the shell of his ear down to the earlobe. With a shudder, he gritted his teeth.
Reaching the inside of one of his thighs with your hand, you rubbed up and down as you mouthed at his neck, trying not to smile as Damian wiggled to get you to touch him where he wanted.
“Patience,” you said against his skin. Your voice lacked the command his carried when he demanded patience from you, but you didn’t seem to need it to have an effect on him.
He opened his mouth to say something, you heard —and felt— it in the inhale he took, but you didn’t let him speak as your hand made full contact with his crotch. Palming his cock, you took a couple of steps backward to lower your mouth to his collarbones.
Damian choked out a loud groan, throwing his head back. Just when you thought he would simply let you have your way with him, he canted his hips upward to force more contact.
You kissed his chest, trying not to giddily laugh on his skin as he once again sought for more friction. Trailing kisses down his torso, you slowly caressed him from on top of his boxers, feeling the rumble of his impatient sounds.
Eventually, you kneeled between his legs, hands on his hips as you littered kisses all over his thighs. Damian’s breath grew ragged and it hitched when you gave his clothed cock a kiss.
Parting your lips, you dragged them along his length. He was painfully hard, and you were embarrassingly aroused. You rubbed your face against his cock, bringing a hand down to pet him so you could go back to kiss his thighs.
Damian moaned when your teeth scraped his left thigh, cock pulsating under your touch.
“You sound so good,” you praised without thinking, wet lips almost flush against his strong thigh. A thought occurred to you. “Can I mark you?”
“Fuck,” he growled. “You can,” he consented, breathless.
Your hold on his cock tightened as you attached your mouth to his skin, suckling until you were sure his skin would bruise just to lick the fresh marks. He drove his hips forward, rutting against your touch.
Your name dropped from his lips, strangled, and you felt his cock spasm as he came. You couldn’t stop yourself from looking at him, admiring his mouth parted and brows furrowed.
Damian’s chest heaved up and down as he recovered his breath. It didn’t take him long to go back to his silent inhaling and exhaling.
In a swift motion, he undid the silk rope around his wrists and grabbed you by the face as he stood up.
“Clean up the mess you made,” he softly instructed.
You nodded, bringing your hands up to his hips to pull his boxers down. Damian’s cock slapped free, covered in cum and half-hard.
Tracing your bottom lip with his thumb, he said, “Don’t use your hands.”
You whined.
“It’s only fair,” he reminded you, removing his thumb so you would do what he wanted you to do already.
You swirled your tongue around his tip, mixing his cum with your spit as you did so. Damian hummed in appreciation, moving his hand to the back of your head in encouragement.
His cum coated your mouth as you fully wrapped your lips around his cock. Slowly bobbing your head, you cleaned up every inch, used to the salty taste. You mewled, feeling his fingers slip into your hair, pushing yourself to take him all at once until your eyes became wet with tears and you choked a little.
He was deep in your throat, looking down into your teary eyes as you swallowed around his cock to assure him you were fine. His eyes glazed over, completely gone, unbothered by whatever had been troubling him that morning, fingers lazily massaging your scalp as you leaned backward, then forward, dragging your lips against him just the way he liked.
A part of you expected him to fuck your mouth, remind you of your place. But both of you knew he didn’t need to do such a thing, that your steady pace, his groans, and the sound of his cock hitting the back of your throat were more than enough.
Damian pushed you off his swollen hard cock. You licked your own saliva and his precum off, moving downward to catch his balls into your mouth which you found harder to do without being able to use your hands and without his guidance.
He tugged on your hair once, trying to pry you away from his balls and perineum. You gave his balls small pecks, coming back to his cock to do the same, making him moan loudly and obscenely.
“Enough,” he gritted out. “Unless this is as far as you want to go—”
You didn’t let him finish his sentence, moving away from his cock and gazing up at him.
Damian let out a breathless chuckle, helping you up. You reached for him, and he grabbed your wrists before you could touch him.
“Damian…”
“No touching.”
You pouted, but it didn’t tug at his heartstrings as you hoped it would. Instead, his hold on your wrists tightened.
Damian kissed the corner of your mouth and you hummed, understanding he was trying to ensure you were okay with it. Once sure, he latched his lips onto your neck, letting go of your wrists to explore your body.
“Wearing pretty lingerie just for me,” he mumbled.
You hummed again, this time in confirmation, fiddling with your fingers.
He walked you toward the bed, pushing you onto the mattress. “Hands to yourself,” he reminded you, using his own to part your thighs.
“Just…”
He cut you off by pushing your panties to the side, feeling just how wet you were for him.
“Don’t tease me,” you cried out.
Damian hummed, almost condescendingly so. His fingers explored your labia, up and down as he smeared all your slick.
“Damian,” you whimpered.
“Mmhh?”
“Please.”
He didn’t answer, too busy tracing your inner labia. Midway through his teasing, he changed his mind and pulled your lace panties down your legs, slowly dragging his hands over your skin on his way.
“Please what?” he finally acknowledged.
“Anything.”
He climbed onto the bed, hovering over you, feline-like. You stared into his eyes, awaiting an indication that you would get something other than teasing. He almost smiled.
Running his cock along your folds, smearing your slick all over it, Damian told you, “I’ll stop if you touch me.”
“I won’t,” you said.
He gave you a look that told you he didn’t believe you, but he was kind enough to give you the benefit of the doubt. “Ready?”
“Yes!”
His cock pushed in with ease and he bottomed out so quickly you held out a slither of hope that he would just give you what you wanted. Things were never that easy with Damian, of course.
You had always loved the burn of his cock as he stretched you, and he had always loved knowing he was the only one who got to stretch you out in the first place. In some ways, he had molded you to him and yet this time he started with slow, teasing, strokes that had you hot in the face.
His strong hands grabbed at your sides as they often did. You slightly closed your legs, needing to feel him closer.
Damian’s hips pulled away from you only to slam back in without warning. You hummed, as if he needed any kind of encouragement. It took him a few thrusts to find a rhythm, hands coming down to your thighs as sounds of skin against skin filled your bedroom.
You ground your hips up against his, breath already uneven. You wanted to grab at him, to hold tight so he would fuck you as hard as you both know he wanted to.
He held your legs open, rolling his hips to push even deeper, driving you into the mattress. You cried out, partially in desperation.
“Let me touch you,” you shamelessly begged.
“Later.”
“I need to touch you now.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Please,” you whined, canting your hips up again although with more difficulty as his tight hold on your thighs made it easy for him to keep you in place.
Damian growled. “If you could hear yourself…”
His thrusts got rougher, hammering into you at a fast pace. His eyes were on you, and if you were anybody else you would have thought he was angry, but because you knew him well, you knew he was holding back from going too far.
He drew moans and whines from you like he was born to do that and nothing else, and a string of desperate curses when he slowed down to grind against you, hands kneading your thick thighs as he did so.
Leaning in, Damian pressed his face into your neck and let out moans against you, lips brushing your skin. One of his hands traveled up your body to reach one of your wrists, a reminder that you weren’t to touch him.
You almost cried, frustrated and so fucking close to coming that you didn’t know what to do with yourself. The more you tried to come up with some way to convince him to let you touch him, the less things made sense to you. Not only was it hard to focus with Damian fucking you like the world would end if he stopped, but you could only think, ‘Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop’ yet the only sounds that came from you were intelligible babbles and moans.
He kissed his way up from your neck to your ear. “Touch me,” he breathlessly commanded as he let go of your wrist. Your hands flew to his back, legs wrapping around his waist as he planted his hands on each side of your head. Damian propped himself up, pressing his lips to yours.
You gasped his name into his lips, digging your nails into his back. You were so unbelievably close that your entire torso was tense already, pressure coiling inside you as Damian’s cock throbbed against your clenching walls.
“Let go,” he told you softly.
Something about his tone drove you over the edge. As the tension inside you snapped and you came, he continued to thrust into your pulsing core, fucking you through your orgasm and prompting his.
Damian rested his head on your chest as he caught his breath, slipping a hand between your back and the mattress to hold you. In return, you ran your fingers through his hair.
He trailed soft kisses around the top of your breasts, sighing against your skin. “Blue looks good on you,” he said, in reference to the bra you were still wearing.
“Mhm. Knew you would like it.”
“I like everything you wear.” He shifted as he said it, hips rolling against yours.
“Wait,” you softly told him, “I’m sensitive.”
“I’m not trying to start anything,” he assured you. “We need to change your sheets.”
“Five minutes.”
Damian relented, bringing his other hand up to your face. He caressed your cheek and asked, "Did I hurt you?"
"No. Did I?"
"No."
"Let me see your wrists."
"Beloved, I am fine."
"Then let me see them."
Damian removed his hand from under your back and brought it close to your face.
There was a light burn on his wrist which you had known would happen the moment he had started wiggling. "Let's get that disinfected, yeah?"
"What about your five minutes?"
"I'm just a little sore, honey."
Damian kissed your jaw and pulled away from you. "I'll clean you up first."
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gay-dorito-dust · 4 months
Note
HEYYYY
Soo I'm here to rq another Damian x reader(platonic). But real quick, I'm sorry if I'm requesting too much or being a nuisance. Pls lmk if I am so I can stop! It's just hard to find somebody that writes for him like dis.
Anyways, basically the same thing were theyre friends but this time it's a diff scenario. So Damian n reader are obvi friends but theyre also complete oposites. Like Damian is intelegent, focused and meanwhile has reader is a bit dumber, daydreams too much, and kinder. They also get walked over a lot.
So he invites reader over to the manor and she meets his brothers n dad. It's all fine n dandy but they can't help but notice how diff they are.
Bonus points if reader talks positively abt him to his brothers and they're all like "fym he's nice?" And readers all like "fym he isnt?" (They're just not used to being treated like a normal human being) ‼️
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Honestly I love writing for platonic! Damian. So pls don’t apologise for anything bc I’m having so much fun rn. 🦦plus I don’t know if this will read well as I’ve written this late at night when o should probably be in bed.
‘Am I seeing things or has Damian finally made a friend.’ Dick whispered to Jason, his eyes unable to tear his eyes away from you and Damian followed Bruce through the manor.
‘Nope, I’m definitely seeing it too.’ Jason replied also looking at you and Damian as if he was looking at the human personifications of night and day.
‘The fact that the demon spawn managed to get a friend sure is…something.’ Tim piped up, having overheard his brothers conversation from standing in between them. ‘I can only hope he didn’t kidnap the poor soul.’ Dick added as he was quick to click onto how Damian kept a hand on your arm, tugging and pulling you along when you stop to stare at a painting in awe for a little too long, gently encouraging you to keep up with him and Bruce by promising to go back to the painting later. Jason then looked over at Tim, ‘any ideas on who they are?’ Tim shrugged. ‘Only the fact that they go to the same school as Damian, share the same art classes and is known for being a little bit of a daydreaming pushover, but despite all that they’re still a kind person.’
Dick smiled sympathetically as his heart ached for you. It wasn’t easy being nice in a city like Gotham, if anything nice ever wandered into the accursed city it seemed as though Gotham itself would stop at nothing to see it destroyed, decimated and become as miserable and as bleak as the city itself; So it was rare to find someone who genuinely could still bring it in themselves to smile whilst in a city like this. And for that Dick had to give you props for being brave enough -and strong enough- to be kind in a place that would gladly take pleasure in stepping over and on you at any inconvenience. For it was truly a sign of bravery at its finest.
‘That kid is sure brave.’ Jason signed, knowing that people like you don’t last in Gotham but it was people like you that Gotham needed the most, but how could a retched place like Gotham heal when it’s always been a rotten city since it’s very conception? He didn’t believe it could be possible but there were always solutions to fighting the problem that seemed impossible to overcome. So who cares if you weren’t the brightest bulb at school? The education system in Gotham was shit anyway the last time he checked and he doubted much had changed when he…well you know…
Tim was silent. He was too busy recognising the protective measures that Damian was taking specifically for you; mainly the hand tugging at your arm anytime he thought you were getting distracted or wandering off elsewhere and muttering about how you need to keep or you’ll get left behind, despite the fact that even if you did Damian would allow himself to fall behind just so that he could walk besides you. While he might be part of the majority that didn’t think he’s ever see the day that Damian brought a friend home, never less a friend who was the total opposite of him. He couldn’t help but feel a sort of relief that Damian finally found a friend, and he knew that both Jason and Dick felt similarly from the looks upon their faces, silently observing how you interact with one another.
The one thing that Tim was confident in was the fact that Damian needed you as much as you needed Damian because you were a beacon of opportunity for his younger brother in many ways that Tim was certain you weren’t made aware of just yet. So while he and his brothers may tease and take this piss about how different you were from Damian, they mean well and express their happiness the only way they knew best; teasing and taking the piss.
‘This library is beautiful Mr Wayne! Do you have any fantasy books?’ You could be heard asking down the hallway, followed by the sound of Bruce softly laughing as he showed you the grand library. ‘This library has any book you can think of and please call me Bruce, it’s not often that Damian brings anyone home for the weekend.’ He says as you looked the Damian confused and a little betrayed. ‘You’ve got friends other than me?’
Damian groaned. ‘No. I don’t, you’re the only friend I’m willing myself to have.’
You smiled and gripped his hand. ‘Aww Dami! That’s so sweet of you to say, despite how brash and blunt you may come across, I’m glad to say that you’re the only friend I’m willing to have too!’ You said without shame. ‘Everyone else isn’t a nice as you are.’ You trailed off while a rare solemn look appeared upon your face as Damian was quick to squeeze your hand reassuringly, Bruce smiled sympathetically. ‘I’m not smart like your son mr Wayne, I can’t help it if things don’t come to me as easy as they do others but I try! I try really heard to do my best at every test but…but people tend to laugh of me because to them I’m either slow or thick.’ Damian’s jaw clenched and his brows furrowed upon being remembered of what people tended to call you.
He hated it and whenever he saw it happen, he was quick to utter some threatening words before taking his usual position as your pseudo-bodyguard for the rest of the school day. At first he wasn’t bothered but when you became restless in your pursuit of being his friend, he remembered vividly how people were mocking and making fun of you for trying to be his friend, that he often regrets not accepting your friendship sooner if it meant being able to be there when it counts.
‘When will you get it that Damian doesn’t want to be friends with someone like you.’ One person said.
‘Then I’ll just have to keep trying.’ You rebutted, still smiling somehow.
Another person scoffs. ‘Get fucking real. You’re a weirdo, no one wants to be friends with a weirdo who so fucking slow at everything.’
You merely shrugged, even when someone’s insulting you, your brain doesn’t recognises it as such. ‘I’m sure he won’t mind.’
‘God you’re so fucking useless that I’m surprised that anyone bothers with you. Let me say this in a way you won’t have to try so hard to understand dipshit. Damian. Will. Never. Be. Friends. With. Someone. Like. You. Ever.’ A third slowly spoke and Damian had heard enough and within a blink of an eye had laid them out flat. You blinked before looking at Damian with a bright smile. ‘Hi Damian! Did you hurt these guys, that’s not very nice.’
‘They insulted you and yet you defend their honour.’ Damian asked incredulously as you both walked down the hallway, leaving the three bullies to groan from their injuries. You shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t say that.’
‘They were insulting you.’ Damian reiterated. ‘They insulted your intelligence and your abilities. People like them often hide bigger insecurities than others.’ Damian replied, finding your ability to keep smiling after such things both annoying as it was admirable.
‘Are we friends now?’ You asked innocently enough and Damian knew he had sealed his fate, and so he sighs and looks up to the ceiling. ‘Yes, we’re…friends.’ He mutters and doesn’t do anything to stop you from dragging him to art class.
‘I was alone before Damian.’ You admitted as you looked at Bruce with a smile as you squeezed Damian’s hand in kind. ‘But now he’s here and he’s my bestest friend ever!’ Damian honestly wishes that you respect yourself more because you could claim that he saved you multiple times, but you’d never acknowledge the times where you have saved him by being unequivocally kind, sweet and over all a better person then all of Gotham’s civilians combined. ‘I was finding my first week at school horrid before I befriended l/n.’ Damian admitted as you softly cooed. The boy then swallows thickly. ‘Their friendship is much appreciated.’
‘Aww! Dami!’ You cried as you crashed into him, causing you both to hit the floor in a heap of limbs.
While Damian was cursing mom lethal threats and you were laughing, Bruce had already made his mind up about you and was certain to make sure to have Damian invite you over as much as possible. It was obvious for him to see that you and Damian were good for each other despite your vast and glaring differences, however that’s what worked in your favour, the power to have over come all odds was incredible; not to mention the fact that your friendship with Damian had lasted as long as it has was another impressive feet on top of that. Bruce knows it’s been hard for Damian to fit in and find a friend, but he couldn’t have made a better friend than he did in the likes of you.
You were more than defiantly welcomed back to the manor if Bruce had anything to say about it.
‘Get off of me!’ Damian shouts.
‘Damian, I think my foot is stuck with yours.’ You reply, scared.
‘That’s your own foot- how did you manage to tangle yourself up in yourself? You landed onto of me?’ Damian asked incredulously.
‘Sorry.’ You apologised.
‘Don’t be.’ Damian said.
Bruce smiled one last time before leaving you both alone in the library to untangle yourselves, only to be greeted by Tim, Dick and Jason. ‘Can I help you three?’ Bruce raised an eyebrow at the boys.
‘Nope.’ Dick started.
‘Not really, just…seeing how the little scamps are dealing.’ Jason followed after.
‘Damian? Nice? The same Damian who tried to, oh I don’t know…KILL ME?!’ Tim asked, revealing to Bruce all he needed to know, their breathing behind the library door was telling that they were clearly eavesdropping on the three of you. Jason and Dick looked at him displeased as Tim looked back at them. ‘I’m not the only one of us who thought that.’ He defended himself. ‘I mean it’s nice that he’s looking out for y/n but still that’s not something someone casually forgets.’
Bruce merely leaves Tim, Dick and Jason to their own quarrel, he loves his boys he truly does, but sometimes they’re more trouble than what they’re worth. He can only hope that they don’t scare you off from coming back for good because he was already planning your next visit.
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gilverrwrites · 13 days
Text
Coming Out of Retirement
Reader/Bruce Wayne Ft. Almost all of the BatFam. (Sorry Alfred) Reader is an ex-con who has renounced their life of crime and settled down as a stay-at-home parent and trophy partner, until the itch to get back on the streets re-emerges. To celebrate this new found life of heroism, their BatFamily arranges a suprise.
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3.1K Words CWs: Mainly fluff, but, non descript mentions of sex (implied dom Bruce), mild arguing, competition, self-doubt, public kissing. Limelight. A singular batarang may or may not get thrown. It might have been Daman.
Adorning your name with the suffix ‘-Wayne’ has done wonders for your image. Rarely were you billed as a criminal in the media, very few events failed to send you an invitation, people who would previously have shunned you in the streets now unsubtly eager to get into or stay in the billionaire families’ good graces. It did not, however, fully erase your criminal past. The extensive list of felonies that came with the rest of your name meant that few people were willing to take a chance on hiring you. When you’d told your husband, Bruce that after months of searching, your only legitimate job offers were loading crates at the docks or sweeping floors at a high school he’d baulked. Those were perfectly fine jobs, vital even, but not particularly fitting for the meticulously curated image the Waynes had carved out over centuries.
Instead, he’s found you a job at Wayne Enterprises, and by found, you mean made-up a job, something to do with analysis and CAPEX, fancy words for sitting behind a desk, a desk that made your skin crawl. Truth is, no job would have scratched the itch you were trying to scratch. A day job was simply the compromise you’d come to with your husband. What you’d really wanted was to get back out onto the streets, not to commit crimes, but to stop them. Bruce didn’t like the idea, citing that it would be emotionally challenging for you to fight against your former allies and friends. Additionally, civilians wouldn’t trust you. You’d argued that those issues would improve with practice and time. That your skills were wasted being a stay-at-home parent and trophy partner, and he knew it, he always knew when you were right, he just hated to admit it. So, you’d come to the mutual agreement that you would work a ‘normal job’, and if, after 6 months had passed, you were still aching to get back in the game, then and only then would he approve.
From there it became a bit of an unspoken game between you. He kept your body and mind as occupied as possible, hoping to keep you distracted. Nights off from patrolling were spent in bed with you, bending and stretching and everything else-ing your body to his will for as long as his near infinite stamina could manage. He’s named you as the primary point of contact for Damian’s school, which had you driving to and from the academy to deal with his many infractions on what felt like a daily basis. If that wasn’t inconvenient enough, it also put you behind on the ungodly amount of paperwork he had sent to your desk each morning.
That didn’t stop you. Instead, you found ways around it. Your early morning runs were really combat and target training with Jason. Your fortnightly visits with your eldest, Dick, really were check-in, as wells as a chance to practice patrolling on the streets of Blüdhaven. Even Babs had loaned you a few updated gadgets for your dusty old utility belt. Tim had given you back-door access to most of the files on the bat-computer, and you spent your lunch hour reading up on the who’s who of Gotham’s current criminal underground between rushed mouthfuls of protein-heavy salads and coffee. Some faces you knew, had been on a first-name basis with, others were complete strangers, indicators that you’d been out of the game too long.
It was funny when you thought about it, even in marriage you were still finding ways to thwart each-other.
Bruce knew all of this, of course, he wasn’t the world's greatest detective for nothing, but he kept it to himself. The same way you kept his tactics to obstruct your plans quiet.
Until today. A sleepy Sunday morning in which Jason had kept you training for twice as long as usual, before joining you for the walk home, chatting your ear off about the things he’d noticed in his latest re-read of Pride and Prejudice, right up until you’d made it inside where a note had been left for you on the fridge. The words ‘CAVE ASAP’ had been scrawled on it in Bruce's handwriting.
When you’d shown it to Jay he’s just shrugged and followed you to the entrance. You might have been concerned, had you not known that today was the six-month anniversary of your deal, the closing date. You were concerned, however, when you were met with 6 smiling faces awaiting you, 7 if you include Jason, 8 if you include Bruce's nonsmiling face.
“What is this?” You query. “Whose watching the city?”
“Don’t worry, I’ve enlisted a couple of friends to keep an eye on Gotham, they’ll signal us if anything comes up that they can’t handle.”
Something feels different, something other than the unusually large crowd. Your eyes scan the room until they land on a new instalment to the cave, four glass cases, holding four suits that seemed both completely new, but somehow familiar.
“That’s good, but you didn’t answer my first question.” You finally respond to Bruce, pointing to the pods to indicate that you now require further clarification.
“It’s been six months since we made our deal, and it has become abundantly clear that there is no derailing you from getting what you want.”
“Which is one of the many reasons you married me~” His straight face breaks at your jest.
“Is this how they always flirt?” “This is tame, you don’t want to see their real flirting.” “Shhhhh.” Muffled voices whisper amongst the cluster of children, and you’re admittedly impressed it took this long for any of them to say something.
“This is by no means a full sign-off.” Bruce continues, “There will be rigorous tests for you to pass before it becomes official- ”
“Don’t worry, it’s not personal.” Dick butts in, and you're grateful for the reassurance. You’d been concerned that your villainous past might make you subject to extra scrutiny, even if you’d clearly proven yourself reformed many times over. “We all had to go through the testing phase.”
“Yeah, some of us did better than others.” Tim's statement is clearly directed at Steph who responds with an unamused glare.
“Yes.” The budding conversation is stifled by Bruce for that singular word before everybody bursts out with a chorus of “WELCOME TO THE TEAM!”
From there you’re rallied into a seemingly never-ending parade of hugs, each accompanied by some form of “congratulations”; “Knew you’d win out.” “You got this!” “You thought he kept you busy before, good luck.”
It was Barbara who finally informed you what the suits were. “We wanted to surprise you with an updated suit, but none of us could agree on one design.”
“So, we split into teams and made our own.” Duke finished.
Your celebratory lap quickly descended into a clash from there. Each team trying to point out their own design, to get you to look at theirs first, to try them on. You knew each of them loved you in their own way, but you hadn’t quite got the knack of demanding respect in the same way Bruce had. He could silence their quarrelling with a well-timed look. You had to shout above them to be heard, but your voice reached their ears in waves of twos and threes, eventually, they all settled. Finding spots to sit or lean on as they watched and waited for your next move.
“How about I go through them each, one at a time, left to right?” A sea of heads nod back at you. “Great, whose is this first one?”
“Mine.” “Ours.”
Damian has a strong personality, self-assured, sharp. You love those parts of him, many don’t. Tim included. With time, they’d grown on each other, formed a brotherly bond, if anything due to the forced proximity, but their relationship was still strained at times. Damian hadn’t killed Tim, but that didn’t alleviate all of the tension between them, so it meant the world that they’d shelved their issues long enough to do something nice, even if the end result wasn’t exactly, your style. It was cool, no doubt about it, but it was certainly a ‘Robin’ suit. Primarily red, with a green cape, a lot of built-in gadgets you’d never seen before, and “Are these knuckle dusters?”
“Yes, made with steel, much like your old ones but these are coated in a gold alloy.” Damian informs you. It doesn’t go amiss that they seem to match the gold pieces from his own costume.
“We know you don’t really like capes, so it’s detachable,” Tim interjects, pointing at different pieces and areas of the gear, anyone could tell he was in his element, one of many. “The left glove has a built-in dispenser for pellets, and the right glove has a travel-size holographic computer that’s connected to the mainframe. Think of it like a smartphone but for comms and information only.”
“Yeah, Bruce doesn’t like it when we use it to watch TikTok.” Duke jokes, and is rewarded with a few cautious laughs.
“Wow!” You smile, fiddling with the edge of the forest green gloves in question. “This is all so advanced. I- ”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, blah blah blah!” Steph's voice cuts in before you can thank your Robins. You can tell she’s excited by the way she bounces on her toes, Barbara right behind her, both grinning, both ignoring Damian's stink eye. You can forgive them, you always do. “Us next!”
“The gadgets are all updated versions of the stuff I loaned you for Blüdhaven, I’ve been tracking the way you use them, and based on the feedback I’ve removed the features you didn’t use much and refocused the excess power on ramping up the stuff you do use.” Barbara tells you through the door as you change.
The girls had really hit the nail on the head in the style department, and you had to applaud yourself for that one really. The girls hadn’t just taken inspiration from your previous get-up, they’d seemingly taken the very blueprints and modernised it. The silhouette was identical, right down to the patched-up adjustable waist you’d had to add due to your fluctuating diet whilst in and out of Blackgate. Only now, everything was made from black reinforced leather with matte panelling. Pops of your signature colour reflected in the stitching as well as the gloves, utility belt, and a pair of shiny docs.
This is incredible, you refrain from saying, careful not to spark any more flames in what was clearly already a competition. “This is nearly identical to my old suits; how did you manage it?”
“Bruce had one of your old suits tucked away in the trophy room,” Steph informs you, shooting Bruce a smug look, in response he remains still, face completely unmoving. “He thought we wouldn’t find it, but we did.”
You don’t focus much on how or why he had it. It was likely ‘borrowed’ from a GCPD evidence locker, brought here so he could study it, help him better understand an adversary. But you did wonder why he’d kept it for so long. When you cast him a curious glance, he stares back at you, sporting the same poker-faced expression he’s given Steph.   
Your lips part, ready to ask but a voice interrupts, Damian; “It’s unoriginal.”
“Yeah.” Tim agrees. “And old fashioned.”
For a moment you’re offended, considering that it’s based on your own design.
“At least they didn’t make a Robin suit.” Jason jumps in, possibly to defend, probably to stir the pot.
“That’s enough.” You declare, holding your hands to garner attention. “They’re both great, in their own ways, now whose next?”
It’s obvious whose next, if the sequins didn’t give it away, their grinning faces did.
“We figured everyone else would have you covered on the tech and practicality side of things.” Duke explains as Dick retrieves their joined project from its pod and hands it to you.
“We wanted to make something that speaks to your soul.” Dick finishes. Their statement clearly rehearsed for maximum intrigue.
You don’t say the first response that comes to mind, but Tim does, near abouts. “And their soul is a reject from Abba’s wardrobe?”
“I said enough.” But he was right. They were all right, in a way, it wasn’t techy or practical, but it certainly appealed to something inside you. A desire to stand out? To dress like the superheroes of your childhood Saturday morning cartoons?
It was by far the smallest suit, with skin-tone tights to keep your arms and legs warm. A near plunging neckline, with a flared collar that was meant to be worn popped. Looking closer you could see that the sequins weren’t sequins at all, but little meal plates coated in some kind of iridescent polish, surely there was some form of pragmatic reason for it, but you couldn’t put your finger on it.
“Maybe not for stopping a bank robbery.” You ponder aloud, swaying your body to see how well the shiny metallic layer reflected light, the dimness of the cave not offering much to work with. “But certainly, for a disco, do places still do discos?”
“No.” Four voices reply in deadpan unity.
“Don’t even humour them.” Jason is having none of it, the look on his face reads that he can’t believe you even tried it on. “I was supposed to be on their team, but I refuse to put my name on that monstrosity.”
“Hey.” Duke and Dick respond in unison, furrowed brows and inadvertently pouty lips don’t suit their faces.
“I supposed that explains the last one.” You redirect before another argument can break out. The final suit, Jay's suit, isn’t really a suit at all. More a mishmash of things seemingly cobbled together from the nearest army surplus store. Big military-grade boots that feel clunky on your feet, a black spandex turtleneck, a thermal-lined leather jacket with stray threads that clearly had previously secured a multitude of now-missing embroidered patches, and camo trousers that had been dyed to match your colours.
“How you have the audacity to claim our suit is a Robin suit, when yours is clearly devised from your own wardrobe astounds me, Todd.” Damian comments coldly, deploying his patented glare.
“It only looks like that because it’s cool, and I only wear cool stuff.” Jason fires back.
“It’s not cool, it looks like something an edgy teenager thinks is cool.”
“At least mine has- ” “Yours isn’t even- ” “This isn’t the 80s!”
A slew of arguments and insults are thrown back and forth, voices talking over each other. The distinct sound of a batarang being launched rings throughout the cave until Barbara silences everyone with the loud clapping of her hands and the declaration that; “We have to let them decide.”
Seven pairs of eyes fall on you, all awaiting vindication, and more importantly: bragging rights. It was an impossible situation; you’d known that from the beginning. There was no conceivable way you could pick one without hurting feelings, or more likely, causing a war. It would be akin to picking a favourite child. Fortunately, you’re saved by The Bat.
“Actually,” Bruce’s deep voice intervenes, cutting through the charged silence, finally speaking up for the first time since your unconventional fashion show had begun. He presses a button on the console beside you and another case ascends from the floor, revealing a 5th suit. “There's one more.”
His smile is smug, the same that often graces your son's faces, particularly Damian's. A smile that says he’s already won. That or he’s simply enjoying seeing his family engage in some healthy, almost non-combative competition. Either way, it evokes a communal groan from the children.
It seems Bruce had had a similar idea to Babs and Steph. The suit resembled your old one, with some noticeable differences. It was all shades of matte black, from head to toe, excluding a very subtle, scattered layer of glitter embedded in the thermal lined fabric. Glitter of your signature colour, you could tell it had been included to appeal to you, but also to have minimal effect on your being able to blend into the dark.
It also included an embellishment of lightweight armour, gloves that seemed to be a direct knockoff from Tims, and a utility belt. But the thing that stood out most, the thing all the others lacked, was a single, shiny symbol adorning its chest piece. Your symbol. So taken with it, you can’t help but run your fingertips across the cool metal, accidentally dislodging it.
“Oh sh- sugar.” You correct yourself, careful not to swear in front of impressionable, or teasing ears. “I broke it already!”
Your husband chuckles, low but soft as he fastens it back into place. “I haven’t finalised that piece yet. I thought maybe you’d want to change your alias, something not associated with your past.”
“Oh.” The insignia suddenly feels much heavier. No matter how much you, Bruce, or anybody else had reassured you during your relationship, you’d always suspected, just a little bit that Bruce might resent your former life, might be ashamed of it, and the confirmation hit you like a ton of bricks. As tempting as it is to agree to the proposition, to make him happy you can’t. “Bruce, my past is a part of who I am. I can’t change that.”
“I know. I thought better of it later, that’s why I had it made.” He places his hand over the top of yours, pressing you both against the metal symbol. “I knew you’d rather reclaim this one.”
A smile spreads across your face then, and he mirrors it with his own. You can’t help it, the relief of having his approval, the warmth of his acceptance, he always gets you, eventually. You also can’t help leaning in for a kiss, one which he happily welcomes, cupping your hips and pulling you closer as your lips press together. The embrass is short-lived, the moment sullied by the distress of your children.
“EW!”
“Gross.”
“I’m outta here.” “I’ll join you.”
“Appalling sight parents.”
“Guess Bruce won then.” “Lame, ours was better.”
When the cave is cleared out, you waste no time pulling Bruce back in to finish your kiss, attacking him with multiple smatterings across his jaw, cheeks, and lips. He laughs, weak to your ambush, greedily enjoying every second of it until you pull away.
“I should go find them, say thank you. This was all very thoughtful.” Nothing would go to waste; you were already planning how you might integrate pieces of each suit into one. One that would reflect who you were, adorned with pieces of the people who had supported you through it, whether intentionally or not.
You can tell Bruce wants to keep you here, but he nods, reluctantly agreeing until the screen behind him flashes red, an alarm begins beeping incessantly. “You’ll have to thank them later.”
Time to put your new suit into action.
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brucewaynehater101 · 2 months
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Ok, random hc. Whenever Bruce pisses Tim or Barbara off they hack the watchtower speakers and blast random music.
Imagine: Tim and Bruce got into a fight over something that happened on patrol, Tim holds onto that anger until the next day when Bruce goes to a JL meeting on the watchtower. Suddenly while Bruce is explaining something about an upcoming mission the speakers start playing the bad touch by bloodhound gang, and all Bruce can do is sigh.
Or, alternatively, when Bruce isn't showing emotions as he should be(Lecturing a member of the league instead of expressing his worry) Careless whisper just starts blasting
Absolutely. The idea of Tim and Babs inducing emotional regulation and communication from Bruce via songs is hilarious. The whole family getting in on it (but in their respective ways: Alfred making the bed up a certain way when Bruce should apologize) would be great.
Honestly, I love this idea that the kids express their anger or frustration with Bruce. Although they aren't directly saying stuff like "I'm hurt that you did xyz," it's still a healthy expression of emotions. They aren't yelling or physically retaliating. They are just annoying the shit out of him.
Bruce knows when a specific kid is annoyed with him too.
He knows that if any of his vehicles have been tampered with, Jason is pissed.
Computers can be Tim or Babs, but WE being messed with is Tim (the teen will call Lucius to assign Bruce 7am meetings). Babs will change Bruce's gear (the last time she changed his grappling hook to be neon orange in color).
Dick can rope Alfred into it, but laundry not being done is 100% Alfred's ire. Dick will also mess with Bruce's JL meetings (the last time he changed Bruce's slide show presentation. He was honestly impressed that Bruce kept a straight face with all the glitter and unicorns on the slides).
Duke will put things away incorrectly so Bruce will have to hunt for the item he needs. If he's really really angry, the batmobile ends up in the harbor.
Steph will outright steal the batcowl if she's mad. Bruce doesn't get his vigilante anger management if he's being a jerk.
Damian will leave the Manor if he's upset, and Robin will patrol with Nightwing (or Red Hood if Damian is really mad). Bruce might not see him for a few weeks if he doesn't apologize.
Cass is the only kid to outright glare at Bruce until he apologizes. She doesn't resort to subtle gestures. Bruce will instantly cave and apologize when she does this.
I like the idea of the kids subtly nudging Bruce to express his emotions (or outright declaring he needs to go about something differently). They also just like embarrassing him in front of the JL or Rogues.
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rogueshadow1124 · 1 month
Text
CUTS AND BRUISES
[BATFAMILY IMAGINE SERIES]
Batfam x Batmom!Reader
Summary: when Bruce arrives home from patrol and his wife immediately notices that he's injured, suddenly coming to worry about the boys who also happen to have gotten injured...
Word count: 1756
Warnings: mentions of injury. (Not proof read)
There was never a day- well night that any of the boys came back without injury, they're vigilantes. When the boys say 'it doesnt even hurt' or 'it'll be gone by morning', whether those words are genuinely true or not Y/N Wayne never takes them lightly. Her babies are hurt and she couldnt stand to see them like that, sure, Dick and Jason may be adults but it still doesn't mean she cant look after them and worry for them- that especially goes for Tim and Damian.
Y/N was currently stood at the kitchen counter along with Alfred, speaking about the most random things that came to mind when Bruce walked in, still in his bat suit with his mask off. His right eye forming a bruise and a pretty noticable cut running from under his jaw to just below his cheek bone.
"Oh my- what on earth happened to you. Where are the boys, a-are they okay?!" The Y/H/C haired woman rounded the counter and stalked her way towards her husband, taking a hold of his chin gently as if not to hurt him before tilting his head every which way checking for more injuries.
"I'm fine Y/N, the boys are okay."
"Define 'okay' Bruce." Her eyebrow arched in question, stern eyes setting on his deep ocean blues. Her hands came to set on her hips, body leaning slightly to the right.
"Hm..." his eyes averted from his wife's harsh gaze for a second, he may be batman but even he is afraid of somethings, more specifically his angered wife that had a mean attitude and grudges she always manages to hold for however long she sees fit. "Dick busted his nose and lip. Jason might have broken a rib. Tim fell and hit his head and Damian sprained his wrist, he also cut his cheek."
"You come with me." Y/N spoke, pointing a finger to Bruce who finally set his eyes back on her form. She then turned to Alfred smiling sadly, sighing out. "Please can you bring one of the medic boxes to the lounge. I'll gather the boys."
Her bright Y/E/C orbs went back to Bruce, her hand reaching out to take a hold of his as she walked out the archway and into the front hall where she lead her husband within the darkness- ironic really. When they first met he always said 'she was the light in his darkness.' She came to a quick stop at the bottom of the stairs staring up into the dark abyss, spotting a small tint of light coming from behind one of the doors.
"BOYS. LIVING ROOM, NOW!"
Bruce flinched at the sudden pitch her voice turned to, following behind as she set in a vast walk into the lounge which was the next room along in the large hall. There stood Alfred, placing the medical box onto the coffee table, opening it fully as he started to take out some of the supplies that would possibly be needed as of now.
Y/N pulled at her husbands hand, pushing him back so he slouched on one of the couches. His head tilted back, a low groan escaping his lips at the relief it gave him to be sitting in a comfortable position after a hard night of watching over Gotham city and fighting crime.
"You know the drill darling." The Y/H/C said softly, taking a seat next to him. She leaned over his body, hovering a hand over his cheek to turn it in the direction she needed him to be for her to clean the cut. A hiss passed his lips as she brought down the cotton pad that was covered in rubbing alcohol, comforting words echoed through his ears as Y/N tried to soothe the stinging sensation. Her free hand, rest on his chest gently running up and down in a calming motion. "M'done, jus' need some ice for that eye of yours."
She stood from the couch, footstep sounded through the silence while she shifted around, looking through the box infront of her. She tilted her head, looking to the source of pitter patters to see the boys, each of them bashed up in their own way, her heart clenched at the sight of them- saddened at the thought of her babies being hurt.
"Who's going first?" Dick was the first to step forth, sitting in the spot Bruce was sitting in prior when he moved to get an ice pack from the kitchen. The eldest 'son' plopped down, turning his head to face his mother figure who sent a smallsmile to him, one hand coming to rest on his right cheek while the other raised a cotton pad to swipe at the now nearly dried blood on his cupid's bow, just above his upper lip.
"Thanks, cleaning my wounds never gets old, huh?" The eldest ravenette smiled sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck when the woman scoffed.
"Wish you boys would be more careful." She tapped Graysons cheek lightly, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead as he moved to the other couch so Jason could take his place next. A audiable whine left the boys lips, hands going to grip at the left side of his torso, face scrunching in pain. "Oh jaybird, why is it alway you who breaks a bone?"
"Because he's the most insignificant. He's completely useless, Tt." Damian snapped, crossing his arms over his chest with a smirk tugging at his lips when Jason shot him a glare.
"Can it Demon." The second eldest snarled back, eyes looking back up at the woman looking to treat his injury. "I dont know why Ma', I'll be more careful next time."
"You say that everytime Jay." She smiled at him, shaking her head. Her hands skimmed over his suit on the injured side of his torso, in which he immediately winced at when her hand made contact with it. "Gonna need that setting back into place. Dick give me a hand."
Dick jumped up from where he sat, coming to stand on the opposite side to where she was standing next to Jason. She motioned for him to hold his shoulders back, her own hands coming down to put pression on the upper and underside of his ribcage on the left. She looked down at Jason who nodded, screwing his eyes closed. As soon as she made the quick movement, pushing down hardly hearing a crunching sound the male yelled aloud, trying to move out of the way in pain and discomfort.
"Fucking shit, hurts like a goddamn bitch. Fuck!" He swore, rolling to his uninjured side to take away the pressure of his broken rib. She had in unzip his suit to uncover is torso before turning to the coffee table to take a hold of a bandage wrap, pulling around the boys torso to keep it in a stable position for the time being.
"S'okay Jaybird, should heal nicer than it would have done now. No patrol for a couple weeks okay?" Y/N brushed a hand through the white streak of hair on his head, hearing him groan out and nod, laying down to rest as peacefully as he could.
Y/N looked over to Tim, his eyes half lidded seemingly trying to stay awake. She strolled over to him, tugging on his arm while sitting him on the love seat next to the couch Dick and Jason were resting on.
"Oh, hey mum. How are you?"
"I'm okay Timmy, now let's have a look at your head, yeah?" She chuckled as the boy nodded, leaning forward so his head rested on her shoulder. Her eyes rolled in fake annoyance, a tut passing her lips, she brought up a hand to brush Tim's dark locks away from the back of his head where she found a gash which had luckily stopped bleeding at this point. "Dami, pass me a bandage please."
The youngest Wayne appeared at her side in seconds handing her the item. She unravelled the end and held it at the base of his neck where the cut stared proceeding to wrap the appendage around the perimeter of his head, tying it back at the starting point when she was sure that she had wrapped it enough. Y/N then layed Tim back in the double seated couch, assuring that her second to youngest was in a comfortable position.
"Al'umu." Her attention was caught by her youngest 'son'.
"Dami, now what am I working with here." She looked down at the boy seeing as she was a few inches taller than him.
"I can assure you, I'm fine al'umu..." his words went unnoticed by the woman as she turned and picked out another cotton pad, applying some of the rubbing alcohol onto the material. She spun back around to face Damian who scowled and went to turn away from her but was stopped when she held his cheek, preventing him from turning away.
She dabbled at the cut on his cheek, the boy didnt wince nor did he show any kind of pain at all. Once she had cleaned the minor wound on his face, she pulled another bandage from the box remembering that Bruce had said that Damin had sprained his wrist.
"Give me your injured hand Dami." She heard him huff but he gave her his injured hand, his eyes following as she wrapped his wrist in the white appendage and tied it off at the end, tight enough to stat in place but not so tight to cut the circulation.
"Thank you al'umu."
"I always take care of you boys, no matter how old you get." She looked around seeing the other asleep on the couches, Dick was layed the arm rest as Jason's head layed on Dicks shoulder, arms slumped over his waist. Tim was layed in a separate seat, legs dangling over the edge as his upper body slouched down and Dami stood beside his 'mother' arms wrapped around her torso as he hugged her with her returning the loving gesture.
"All been seen too." Bruce's deep voice sounded from behind the two making them turn to look at him.
"Yeah..." Y/N smiled at her husband, laying a kiss on his lips when he walked over and leant down to her. A loud sigh came from Damian at his parents affection which made them chuckle in amusement.
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