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When he stepped into the office, the secretary behind the desk practically tripped over herself at the sight of him. Not that he minded, he knew how good he looked, however, the appointment at hand voided the desire to flirt with her. “I’m here to see the headmaster. I’m Timothy Wayne’s older brother.”
For a moment, she started to nod, looking down at a stack of papers, then seeming to remember something, she asked, “I’m sorry, what’s your name?”
“(Y/N). (Y/N) Wayne.”
“I’m sorry, your name isn’t on the list of people here to see or check out Timothy Wayne.” She blinked. “I thought Mister Wayne was coming to get him.”
“My father is busy. I’m the only sibling available at the moment.” He glanced towards the headmaster’s office. “Tim called me. He said he needed me.”
“I’m sorry, but unless your name—”
“Tim!” he yelled at the door.
“Sir, please don’t yell in the office.”
“Timothy!”
The door suddenly opened, the headmaster appearing, and there was Tim in the back. “(Y/N),” the teen breathed in relief, and he looked at the secretary.
“I don’t need permission to collect my brother.” He walked past the desk and into the headmaster’s office; he sat down in the chair next to Tim. “What’s up, kiddo?”
Tim suddenly looked at his hands. “I…I messed up, (Y/N).”
His eyes narrowed at the boy, then looked at the headmaster. “What happened?”
“Timothy struck another student. The boy was sent to the ER after the nurse assessed that his nose had been broken.”
“What?” he glanced back at his brother, then down to his hand; the boy’s knuckles were red and swollen. “Why?”
“We’re in the process of seeing what punishment to give him for—”
“I didn’t ask you what punishment you were giving my brother. I asked him why he hit someone,” he shot back. “Tim, why?”
His brother exhaled and he quietly said, “Evan called me a name…”
He trailed off and (Y/N) repeated, “What’d he call you?” Tim didn’t say anything. “Tim, what did he say?”
“He called me a fag.” His shoulders slumped and he repeated weakly, “He called me a fag. I just…I just got mad and before I knew it, I punched him.” His brother sat back and watched him for a moment; Tim’s eyes welled with tears. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I didn’t mean to, it just happened.”
Still silence drifted from his brother, until the headmaster said, “Unfortunately, because Tim struck another student and broke his nose, we will have to suspend him from school.”
“The student my brother struck, Evan,” he started, keeping his eyes on Tim. “What punishment will he be receiving for using a homophobic slur against my brother?”
“With all due respect, Mister Wayne—”
“My name isn’t Mister Wayne,” (Y/N) interjected and pulled out the dog tags from underneath his shirt. “I’m a Captain in the United States Navy. Mister Wayne is my father.”
“Captain Wayne,” the headmaster corrected, then swallowed, adjusting the pens on his desk. “Perhaps Mister Wayne should come down and talk to us.”
(Y/N) leaned forward and met his gaze, calmly stating, “Well my dad isn’t here, is he? I am. So, unfortunately, I’m the one you’ll be dealing with right now.” He stared the man down. “Evan used a slur against my brother and yet you aren’t going to punish him because he has a broken nose? Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.”
“But he—”
“Tim, did he hit you first?”
“No,” he answered.
“Then you drew first blood.” He looked at the man. “You can put them in in-school suspension, but you will not punish my brother only.” His gaze narrowed. “Or…we can agree that this was an unfortunate accident that took place, my father can donate a substantial amount to the many sports programs at Gotham Academy, and we can just overlook this. Your choice headmaster, but rest assured, if you don’t take this deal, I’ll make your life a living hell.”
“Is that a threat?”
“It’s an assurance. I’d take the deal, headmaster.”
The man looked between the two before he sighed. “…Fine…we await Mister Wayne’s check in the mail.”
“Good.” (Y/N) rose from his chair. “Tim, get your shit.” As his younger brother rose from his seat, he pointed at the headmaster. “I want Evan removed from any classes with Tim and his schedule reworked so he doesn’t interact with my brother. If it isn’t changed by this evening, you’ll witness my assurance firsthand.”
“Yes, Mist—Captain Wayne.”
“Don’t let this shit happen again. With any of my siblings.” (Y/N) put his hand on Tim’s shoulder and walked him from the office and to the parking lot.
As they climbed in the car, Tim muttered, “I’m sorry.”
“Are you hungry?” he asked. “I’m hungry.”
“I shouldn’t have punched him.”
“I’m thinking Batburger but then again, Big Belly Burger sounds great.”
“Aren’t you mad at me?” Tim blurted out. “I broke someone’s nose.”
“Yeah? And?” he said. “I would’ve beat the shit outta the kid if it was me. I’m mad I had to come up here when I was busy, but I’m not mad you defended yourself against some kid being a homophobic asswipe. And dad won’t be either.” (Y/N) reached over and wrapped his hand arm around Tim’s neck, kissing the crown of his head. “I love you, kiddo, and nothing is going to make me feel anything less than that.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.” He kissed his head again. “But seriously, I’m starving. Where do you wanna get food?”
Little, fluffy crime fighters are doing everything to protect the city! This is the first washi I designed. There are a lot of tiny details in the background and the Robins. I'm so glad the tiny details look good 😭💕
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I read a fic the other day where Tim gets turned into a Dragon and it made me wonder what kind of dragon each of them would be so heres some quick sketches of what that pondering produced.
Jason lie on his side, crimson blooming across the white shirt he wore over his body armor, trying to force himself to get to his feet. His brother was still fighting, still slamming thugs onto the pavement left and right and managing to stay upright even with broken ribs and a fractured collarbone. The Joker was simply laughing, that cackle that haunted Jason’s dreams, watching the fighting until it was just the three of them.
He watched his brother stand up straight, white slits beneath the black cowl angered, as he stalked over to the Joker, all the while the man was raising his hands in mock surrender.
Black gauntleted hands wrapped around the pale man’s throat and that cackle slipped into chokes as he shouted, “You can’t kill me, Batman!”
Jason held his breath, wondering if his brother was going to choke the life out of his worst nightmare or not.
He let him go, shoving him to the ground. “You’re right. I can’t kill you.” He slammed his heel square into the juncture between the Joker’s shoulders, a crackling force that erupted with broken vertebrae, glaring down at him. “But the old man never said anything about taking you out of commission.”
The Joker lie there motionless, and he turned, stumbling over to Jason where he quickly lifted him up into his arms and started making his way back to the Batmobile.
“Dad’s not going to be happy,” he muttered.
“I don’t care. He deserves worse.”
Jason shifted his head, resting his cheek on his eldest brother’s arm. “Thank you.”
In The End, There Are Sins We All Take To Our Graves
A Batbro One-Shot
Word Count: 1.2K
Warnings: References to Abuse, Allusions to Abuse *PLEASE UNDERSTAND THIS FIC IS NOT VAGUE IN IT'S REFERENCE TO WHAT WILL HAPPEN. THIS FIC IS DARK AND WHILE NOTHING IS INHERENTLY EXPLICIT, THE MENTIONS OF WHAT WILL OCCUR CAN AND WILL BE TRIGGERING TO SOME. IF ABUSE, ANY AND ALL KINDS, ARE TRIGGERING TO YOU, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE BE VERY CAUTIOUS WHEN READING.*
Author's Note: Quote the ask, "Let the bitch die."
In the end, there were sins that the eldest Wayne would take to his grave. To others, he was a hero, a knight of justice, humility, and kindness. But shade of gray had shades of blue, and he himself be the first to admit he wouldn’t be stepping foot into kingdoms of white and gold when he met his end. But he would stand before whatever maker and admit unashamed what crimes he’d done, what horrid things he condoned to keep his family safe and sound; he would do whatever it would take to keep their demons dead.
***
Vitsina watched the eldest Wayne sit before the woman chained to the wall, arms above her head. She hung limply, strands of dark hair covering her face. The man leaned forward in the chair and pushed her head up, leaning it back against the wall; her eyes were open, wide with terror and he simply smiled at her.
“I see you’re finally awake Miss Flores.” He leaned back and slouched slightly, resting his elbows on the arms of the chair. “I bet you’re wondering where you are and why you’re in this position?”
She couldn’t nod or speak. Something…was keeping her from it.
“For starters, let’s explain why you can’t move or talk. You see, my lovely partner here, Vitsina,” he gestured to the blonde behind him. “injected you with a neurotoxic peptide concoction we like to call SCO. It stands for Speedster Clock Out. Now, what this SCO is made of, is conotoxin. But, the reason we name it after Speedsters is because it’ll take one out of commission for ten minutes. Which, is a pretty long time to remain completely still for someone who’s faster than light.”
She stared at him, all she could do.
“If it’ll take one out for ten minutes, imagine how long it’ll take you out?” he smiled. “But you don’t really care how you got here, you want to know why.” His smile dropped. “My name is Wayne. (Y/N) Wayne. Dick Grayson is my younger brother. My first, brother.” Shifting, he leaned in close again. “Karma has come calling for your life, Miss Flores. And I’m your judge, jury, and executioner here to carry it out.”
Her eyes didn’t waver from his.
“Dick told me what happened in Blüdhaven that night, did you know that?” he asked. “I held my baby brother as he sobbed and told me what you did. How he told you no, and you didn’t listen. He told me everything.”
Something, something brewed darkly in his gaze. Something so dark it was akin to demonic.
“And I waited. Letting you bide your time in hiding, carrying out your own vendettas wherever you wanted to, until the time was right. And now that that time is now…you will finally get what’s coming to you.”
He snapped his fingers and a metal door swung open, a screech of steel in their ears as two large men stepped in and up behind him. Her eyes widened ever so slightly when she saw them.
“Based on your reaction, I assume you recognize these men, Miss Flores?” he gestured to them. “You remember Alexandrov and Dmitriy, don’t you? The two men you put away when you worked in Quantico a decade ago? Well, when it hit the dark web that your life was up for grabs…these men leapt at the chance to get even with you.”
She stared at them with fear.
“See, they’ve paid me a hefty sum for your head, Miss Flores. Half a billion, to be exact.” He rested his elbows on his knees. “My only condition other than payment was that you were killed before midnight.” he made a show of looking at his watch. “And it’s five-forty-five, now.”
Something cold touched her soul when he stood from the chair and knelt before her, speaking so lowly only she could hear.
“I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, Miss Flores, Dick had nothing to do with this. I’m the one decided to carry this out. I’ll give my brother the justice he deserves.” His eyes narrowed into slits, pure hatred in his voice. “I could care less what they do to you in the six hours they have you. But let me assure you, whatever agony and torture you’ll suffer will be a fraction to the life of trauma and distrust my brother will live with for the rest of his life.”
She felt something bubble in her throat.
“Pl…ea…s…e…”
He titled his head. “Please?”
Her eyes said, “Yes.”
“Oh no,” he murmured. “Mercy is long gone. I’ve none to give you, Miss Flores, and you’ve none to receive from anyone, least of all the people here.” He gazed at her. “You’re going to die tonight, Miss Flores, and I don’t feel any pity for you. And I want you to know that when you take your last breath, that this is the punishment you brought yourself by your actions that night.”
Tears filled her eyes. “Ple…ase.”
He simply stood up. “Que Dios se apiade de tu alma, porque yo no tengo ninguna para ti. Y sólo espero que cuando muera vaya al infierno para poder matarte de nuevo para mí.”
Turning, he walked past the men who enveloped the sight of her as he left.
***
The phone rang exactly ten minutes after the stroke of midnight, and he lifted the device to his ear. “It’s done?”
Mhm. All three of them are dead.
“And their bodies?”
I will have them taken care of within the next few hours. No one will ever know.
He glanced out towards the living room floor, at the pile of siblings strewn out across the carpet and furniture, until his eyes landed on his first brother. His eyes narrowed in something he couldn’t quite name, a sadness, perhaps a shame.
I know what you are thinking, старый друг. I understand your motives and admire the lengths you went through to save your brother. The rage we are both full of for our loved ones is real.
“I didn’t save him, Vitsina,” he muttered. “I let it happen.”
You did not know it happened until he told you, старый друг. You cannot blame yourself for that. What matters is that you took it away. You have killed his demon.
“I know,” he said quietly. “I know…”
Regardless, you did the same for me when my husband and child’s murderers remained alive. You know I would walk through fire for you and your family.
“Thank you, Vitsina.”
Always. But I will go now. I must prepare their bodies for cremation and clean the warehouse.
“Yeah, text me when it’s done?”
Of course. And (Y/N)?
“Yeah?”
Though leaving her to the fate she suffered was cruel, it was deserved, and you were right to sentence her.
The line clicked and he set the phone down, walking over to the group of siblings; gently, he wedged himself between Cassandra and Dick, taking both of them into his arms. Cassandra immediately flopped into his lap and Dick nudged his head underneath (Y/N)’s chin. He softly brushed the back of Dick’s head, murmuring, “I love you, Dickie.”
Dick grunted in his sleep, arms curling against his chest as he hunkered down. “…Love…you, bub…”
In the end, there were sins that the eldest Wayne would take to his grave. For every shade of blue had a touch of gray. But tonight there were no sins to carry. There was simply a family. A family of broken souls. And the eldest Wayne would bear their brokenness and heal what he could by keeping their demons dead and at bay.
