#half-demon reader

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Fortunately, you kept your promise to visit often.

But breakfast at Wayne Manor was never peaceful.

Not because of villains or alarms—though those happened too—but because every morning seemed to turn into a competition.

Damian sat rigidly at the table, fork in hand, pretending not to watch as you leaned over Dick Grayson's shoulder to read something off his phone.

You laughed. Actually laughed. And Grayson, the insufferable fool, looked pleased about it.

He's doing it on purpose, Damian thought, glaring at his cereal as if it had personally betrayed him. He knows exactly what he's doing.

"—so then I told Babs that if Bruce ever upgrades the Batmobile again, I'm calling dibs on the old one," Dick said between bites. "Right, Y/n? I'd totally rock it."

You hummed thoughtfully, lips twitching. "You'd total it within a week, Grayson."

"Hey!" Dick protested, mock-offended. "I'm an excellent driver."

"Mm. You've also crashed five motorcycles."

"Four." He corrected.

You raised a brow.

"...Okay, five," Dick muttered.

Damian's fork hit the table with a clink, and all eyes turned toward him.

He crossed his arms, expression carefully blank. "This conversation is ridiculous."

Dick grinned. "Jealous, little man?"

"Tt. Of what? Your inability to operate a vehicle safely?" Damian shot.

"Ouch," Dick pouted, clutching his chest dramatically. "You wound me."

"Not yet, Grayson."

"Boys," You said lightly, tone carrying that calm authority that made even Jason pause mid-retort. "No homicide before noon."

Damian turned his head away, muttering under his breath about Dick starting it.

You didn't miss it. You never did.

A faint smirk tugged at your lips. "Finish your breakfast, Dami."

And just like that, the tension drained. He grumbled, but he obeyed. You had that effect on him—an easy command that didn't demand fear, only respect.

Dick noticed it too.

Later that morning, the three of you were in the training hall. You had agreed to run a sparring exercise, though 'exercise' was generous. It was mostly you standing between a bickering acrobat and a pint-sized assassin, both vying for your attention.

"Okay," You clapped your hands once. "First to land a clean hit gets bragging rights for the day. No cheap shots."

Dick stretched, all cocky charm. "Sounds fair."

Damian rolled his shoulders, eyes narrowing. "I'll make this quick."

It wasn't.

The sparring session turned into chaos—Dick flipping over Damian, Damian sweeping his leg under Dick, both of them moving with trained precision and petty vengeance. You leaned casually against the railing, arms folded, expression unreadable.

It ended with Dick flat on his back and Damian pinning him triumphantly with a knee to the chest.

"Yield," Damian said smugly.

"Fine, fine," Dick wheezed. "I yield, tiny demon. Get off me before you bruise my ribs."

"Perhaps next time you will remember your place, Grayson."

Nah. Dick held back. Damian is, after all, a kid.

You stepped forward, crouching beside them. "Both of you fought well."

Dick grinned up at you. "Does that mean I get a gold star?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Do I look like I hand out stickers?"

He chuckled, rubbing his sore shoulder. "Worth a shot."

Then you turned to Damian. "And you—good form. Watch your stance, though. Your right foot was too far forward."

Damian adjusted automatically. "Like this?"

"Exactly."

You gave his shoulder a quick pat—the same way you used to after a perfect hit in the League's training halls.

And Dick saw it.

The shift. The tiny softening in Damian's usually sharp expression. The way he seemed to stand just a little taller when you acknowledged him.

So that's what it looks like, Dick thought, quiet for once. That's what having a father really feels like.

He didn't begrudge the kid for it. Not really. But he couldn't deny the ache of envy settling somewhere in his chest.

It wasn't that Bruce was a bad dad—he'd been there when it counted. But Bruce's love was heavy, guarded. Conditional on understanding pain and purpose. Y/n's? It was different. Easier. You didn't make them earn it.

Over the next few days, Dick found himself hanging around you more—helping with missions, asking your opinion, cracking jokes just to see if he could make you laugh again.

And Damian noticed.

You offered Dick a sip of your drink? Damian suddenly wanted some.

You called Dick 'champ' after a mission? Damian was at your side ten seconds later, deadpanning, "And what am I, then?"

"My headache," You answered without missing a beat.

He didn't even argue. Just frowned and sat closer to you anyway.

By the time the family gathered in the living room that evening, the rivalry had reached absurd levels.

Bruce walked in to find Dick and Damian wrestling on the carpet while you sat on the couch, scrolling through your phone.

"Do I want to know?" Bruce asked.

Jason, sipping coffee beside you, snorted. "Big D versus Little D. Been going at it for fifteen minutes."

Bruce sighed. "Shouldn't you stop them?"

You shrugged. "They'll tire out soon."

"Are they fighting over something important?"

"Your definition of 'important' may differ from mine, Wayne."

Right on cue, Damian shouted, "He touched my Father first!"

Bruce blinked. "...Oh."

Jason was wheezing. "Man, if I had a dollar for every time I heard that—"

"Don't," You warned, and Jason wisely shut up.

Eventually, both combatants collapsed in a heap of exhausted limbs and bruised egos. You finally stood, walked over, and crouched down.

"You two done?"

Dick groaned. "Define done."

"Good enough." You offered him a hand up first. He took it, wincing slightly.

Then you turned to Damian. "You too, Dami."

He hesitated before accepting your hand—because that's what pride looked like in a ten-year-old trained to kill.

"Now shake hands," You instructed firmly.

They didn't. But they also didn't lunge at each other again, which counted as progress.

Later that night, you found Dick sitting on the manor steps, nursing a bruise and staring out at the gardens.

"Can't sleep?" You asked, joining him.

He smiled faintly. "You know me. Too much energy."

"You fought well."

"Not well enough to win."

"Winning's overrated."

He looked at you then—really looked. "You're good with him, you know."

"Damian?"

"Yeah." Dick's voice softened. "He listens to you. Trusts you. That's not something he does easily."

You didn't answer right away. "He reminds me of myself. Angry kid trying to make sense of two worlds that don't fit."

Dick laughed quietly. "Guess that makes sense why he clings to you."

"And you?"

"What about me?"

You smiled. "You've been sticking around a lot lately."

"Yeah," He admitted. "Guess I just like having someone who feels... safe to talk to. You don't make it weird."

"That's because I'm used to chaos."

He chuckled—a real, genuine one—and leaned his shoulder lightly against yours. "Thanks, Y/n. For, you know... being here."

You rested a hand on the back of his head, ruffling his black hair gently.

"You're welcome, champ."

Behind the curtain upstairs, Damian's eyes narrowed as he watched from his window.

Unbelievable.

Downstairs, you looked up suddenly—sensing the faintest pulse of that demonic awareness prickling at the edge of your senses—and smirked.

"Think he's glaring holes through the glass again?" Dick asked.

"Oh, absolutely."

"Should I be worried?"

"Nah."

You stood, stretching. "He's just territorial. He'll grow out of it."

"...You sure?"

You glanced toward the window, where two green eyes glowed faintly in the dark. And smiled. "Eventually."

Note

I want to clarify something: I don't dislike Bruce Wayne. Nor do I plan to make him an antagonist or anything like that.

The reason some members of the Bat-Family may find a father figure in Y/n isn't because they don't love Bruce. Rather, it's because they kinda crave a connection that he cannot give them.

Bruce is not a bad father in the sense that he's not uncaring or abusive (in the real world raising child soldiers is clearly abusive, but he is from a comic book). However, as a character, he struggles to ever prioritize his family over his mission. He's frequently absent, is emotionally distant, and has trouble relating to kids. He really has no idea how to raise children, and is very dependent on Alfred to do most of the emotional lifting.

I'd also add that Bruce can be an okay father, even a good father at times. But as long as he's the Batman, he can never truly be a great father because being the Batman requires one dedicating their entire being to fighting evil and saving the innocent—whereas a great parent always makes their children priority number one. Being Batman and being a parent don't really go together, like at all.

Bruce is not a normal father and never can be. His relationships with his Robins are multi-layered and complex. He is a fiercely protective figure, but his work as Batman often keeps him at a distance, making him a less present father than some of the Bat-Family might wish.

That said, I don't plan on Damian jumping straight to accepting Bruce as a father. It will be slow, because I want their relationship not to be rushed or forced. Acceptance takes time.

The steam seeped through the molten cracks of the ground around Totosai's Forge as you stood there with a glare on your face and the sword in your hand clenched tightly as you got into a crouch-like stance, your other hand slowly reaching for the handle of your new sword. Before you stood your eldest brother - The Demon Lord, Sesshomaru - and from what he told you, he was not going to let you get away from him again. His hand hovered over Tokijin's Handle just as you hovered over your own blade; you could feel the power of the Demon Generals you killed radiating off the blade, and your brother felt it too. He looked at the sword with golden eyes before looking into your eyes with a small smirk on his face. "I can feel the power in that sword - the power of the demon generals you killed, Little [Brother/Sister]. But even with that power, you can't hope to stand against me. Just come quietly and join me on my journey." Sesshomaru said as he placed his hand on the handle of his trusted sword. You scoffed at his order. "You might be my elder brother but I told you and Inuyasha that I grew up with you two and I can survive without you. I don't want to travel with you or him, so leave me the hell alone, 'Brother'." You spat out the title. "Well then..." He pulled out Tokijin and held it ready with the tip pointing at you, "I shall make you yield." He vanished. Your eyes widened as your instincts made your body move to the right, just in the nick of time as Sesshomaru reappeared with the sword stabbing in the spot where your shoulder would have been, he looked at you with displeasure in his eyes as you jumped into the air and floated there as you pulled your sword from the sheath, sliding the sheath into the sash around your waist. You held your sword ready with both hands as Sesshomaru flew up to your level. "Last warning, Sibling. Join me or I shall not hold back." He warned you again as his body began glowing a dangerous crimson aura; he wasn't playing around but neither were you. "I'm not going to join you. Not now. Not ever." You snarled as your ears darted back. "I'll make you swallow those words of yours." He charged at you as he swung his sword at you, which you countered with your own. The demonic power of the blades clashed and fought against each other, making lightning spew from the area where they touched. You pushed Sesshomaru back before you raised your sword again with both hands and roared out. "Raging Vortex!" You swung the sword downward as a vortex of powerful wind shot from the sword's blade and hit Sesshomaru, sending him crashing to the ground but he landed on his feet and just looked at you through the raging winds before he swung Tokijin - breaking the winds apart. 'Shit!' You cursed in your mind. "Channeling your power to amplify it through the sword. Interesting. Show me more, Little Sibling." He said as he charged at you again but at rapid speeds, you barely had time to brace yourself before Tokijin slammed into your sword, the power knocked you across the sky before you managed to slow yourself to a stop. "Alright." Your blade began glowing blue with the force of lightning, "Taste this." You raised the blade again and called on the power of the Lightning Hound before it appeared behind you with blood-red eyes. "Lightning Hound!!!" You slashed your sword downward and the Lightning Hound roared and darted at Sesshomaru, whose sword began glowing as well as he called out... "Dragon Strike!" A Dragon made of Lightning came from the sword and charged at your lightning hound - the two of them crashed and exploded, and the winds of the backlash sent you and Sesshomaru away from each other. You grunted in pain as a stray bolt of lightning hit your shoulder as they faded away. You panted as you looked at Sesshomaru, who just looked up at you with what you could guest was interest on his face. "Powerful enough to cancel out my Dragon Strike... That's interesting, but I know that you aren't showing me all of your power." Sesshomaru said in a questioning voice.

"Well, I don't want to be responsible if something happens to Totosai's Home." You said with a light pant in your voice.

"This isn't what I want." He sheathed Tokijin and began walking away, "I want you at your strongest. When I feel like you have reached that point, we shall fight again and I shall take you with me once you lose."

Jaken began running after him as you watched your brother walk away from the fight site.

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Bruce Wayne was not an unkind man, but he was a stranger in all the ways that mattered. He tried—Damian could admit that. There were sparring sessions, discussions about morality, endless talks about restraint.

"No killing," Bruce repeated for what felt like the hundredth time one night, as Damian glared at some criminals in an alley.

"It's what I was taught," Damian snapped. "You can't unmake years of training because of your 'morals.'"

"I'm not asking you to forget what you learned," Bruce replied evenly. "I'm asking you to choose who you want to be."

Choose.

That word had always been a luxury. The League never offered choices. They gave orders. And yet you—half-demon, half-legend—had given Danian more choice than anyone else ever did. You never told him what to be. You only asked him to try.

And he did. For you.

The days stretched. Alfred tried his best to make life easier. Grayson dropped in with too much charm and way too many questions. Drake was insufferable in every imaginable way. And Todd was rarely on Wayne Manor.

But nothing filled the space where you had been.

At night, Damian would sit by his window, Gotham's skyline sprawling in the distance. The light pollution drowned the stars, but he still looked for them anyway. You once told him that demons could navigate by starlight alone. He wasn't sure if that was metaphor or fact, but either way, he found himself whispering to the sky.

"I miss you..."

Once, he swore he saw a faint red glow on a rooftop miles away. A flicker of something not human. Maybe you were watching. Maybe you were just busy.

He told himself it didn't matter.

"No. No. No." Damian shook his head, feeling pathetic for depending on you so much. "I don't need him."

He was lying.

Then, one morning, Alfred opened the door, and the entire manor seemed to exhale. The butler's polite composure didn't falter, but Damian caught the flicker of something dangerously close to relief in his eyes.

And then he heard your voice.

It wasn't dramatic. You didn't emerge from a shadowy portal or crash through the window in a blaze of fire (though, knowing you, that would've been entirely possible). Instead, you simply walked through the front door.

"Nice place," You said, stepping inside like you owned the building. "A little too shiny. I give it two weeks before you start sneaking bloodstains into the carpet."

Damian's head snapped toward the door so fast it was a miracle he didn't strain something. The air shifted around you. Bruce had presence; you had gravity.

You looked exactly the same as you always did—annoyingly perfect. Your hair fell in a lazy mess that looked intentional, your clothes far too casual for someone who could level a city block if provoked. And that demon aura that made even shadows hesitate around you? Still there.

To Damian, though, you were just... you.

"My Father has arrived," He declared without hesitation, his fingers twitching as he held back the urge to run up to you. "Finally."

Bruce froze mid-step from across the hall. Dick choked on his coffee. Tim blinked so hard it looked painful. And Jason—Jason was grinning like he'd just won the damn lottery.

"Father?" Tim repeated slowly, eyes flicking from Damian to Bruce, then to you.

You raised a brow, taking off your sunglasses. "...What, you didn't tell them?"

Bruce's jaw clenched. "Tell us what, exactly?"

"That your kid already has better taste in father figures," Jason snickered from the kitchen doorway.

Damian folded his arms, dead serious. "I see no reason for the confusion. My Father raised me."

Dick pointed his cup toward Bruce. "But that's your biological—"

"Do I look like I require a biology lecture, Grayson?" Damian interrupted him.

Tim muttered, "Guess we found out who the sass gene came from."

From you, obviously.

You stifled a laugh behind your hand, clearly amused. Damian's ears burned. He'd missed that sound—low, warm, and a little mocking.

You crouched down to his height, your tone softening just slightly. "You look taller, Dami."

He proudly straightened. "I am taller."

"Mm. Barely."

"I've grown three inches."

"Two and a half."

"Tt." Damian turned his head away, but his lips twitched. He couldn't help it.

He's insufferable, he thought.

Your presence filled the room easily. You talked with Alfred, tolerated Dick's overenthusiastic hug, ignored Jason's smirk, and even complimented Tim's organization system in the cave—something no one had done before.

Bruce watched the entire exchange like someone trying to solve an equation that wouldn't balance.

Damian saw it in his eyes: the subtle tightening around the mouth, the confusion, and the flicker of envy he tried to hide.

Bruce asked, carefully, "Will you visit often?"

"Every day, if I can help it," You replied smoothly. "Someone has to make sure my baby doesn't dismantle your entire moral code by breakfast."

Jason snorted. "Oh, he's already halfway there."

Damian shot him a glare that could've peeled paint.

Bruce's tone stayed level, but Damian caught the edge. "He's my responsibility now."

You smiled. The kind of smile that didn't reach your eyes. "Of course he is. I'm just here to make sure he doesn't kill your responsibility."

A tense pause.

Then Dick, trying to play peacemaker, piped up, "Sooo... family bonding trip? Ice cream? Anyone?"

No one answered.

The day went on like that—equal parts chaos and disbelief. Damian shadowed you for the rest of the visit, ignoring the knowing looks his brothers kept throwing his way. You didn't mind; you never did. You talked, trained, shared stories. You even corrected his stance mid-spar like old times, fingers firm on his shoulder.

For the first time since coming to Gotham, Damian breathed properly.

When you left that evening, he walked you to the door. The sky outside was washed in orange, the manor lights stretching long shadows across the floor.

"Do not vanish again without warning," Damian said, quieter than usual.

You looked back at him, expression unreadable. "Missed me that much, huh?"

"Tt. I simply don't appreciate being left behind without explanation."

You chuckled, soft but sincere. "Alright, little one. I'll keep that in mind."

You ruffled his dark hair—he let you, though he scowled through it—and stepped into the night.

As the door closed, Damian's reflection glimmered faintly in the glass. His eyes caught the light. For a moment, the green reminded him of the Lazarus Pit—and of how you'd stood beside him each time he came out trembling.

"Come back soon..."

He must call Bruce 'Father' now, he reminded himself. That's what's expected. That's what's... proper.

But even in thought, the word felt so utterly and completely foreign. Because for him, there was only one person the title truly belonged to.

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Affection wasn't something you could quantify. You couldn't graph it, measure it, or chart its growth on a timeline.

But if you could? Tim Drake would probably have a spreadsheet for it.

He liked things that made sense—things with patterns. Crime scenes, digital trails, behavioral tells. All neat, predictable, logical. Which is why you threw him completely off his game.

You didn't fit.

And it wasn't because you were some half-demon ex-assassin with enough power to turn Gotham into a crater (though that was a contributing factor). It was because you didn't act like someone who could do that. You were quiet, patient, grounding. You talked to Damian like a kid instead of a weapon. You listened to Dick's endless tangents without looking like you wanted to die. You even had Jason—Jason—almost behaving like a normal person when you were around.

Tim noticed that, of course.

He also noticed that every time he tried to finish the contingency plan labeled 'Y/n Al Ghul (Potential Threat – Level Omega),' he ended up rewriting it. Then deleting it. Then rewriting it again.

He wasn't sure if that was because you were genuinely difficult to predict or because he didn't want to predict you. Probably both.

It wasn't that Tim disliked you. Far from it.

You were... tolerable. Okay, maybe more than tolerable. It's just that he didn't know what to do with you.

He'd spent years learning to read people—to map their behaviors like algorithms. Bruce was logic over empathy. Dick was empathy over logic. Jason was trauma duct-taped to anger. Damian was ego shaped into a sword.

But you? You didn't run on a single code. You were both terrifying and gentle, lethal and reassuring. A contradiction with a pulse.

That made you unpredictable. Which made you dangerous.

And yet—when you were sitting in the Manor's kitchen one evening, leaning back with your hands around a mug of hot chocolate, listening to Damian explain something about sword technique—you looked safe.

That didn't make sense either, and Tim hated things that didn't make sense.

He'd been halfway through rewriting the contingency file again when the memory hit him—the moment you agreed to become a vigilante.

He still wasn't sure if that was a good day or the start of another logistical nightmare.

Flashback — Two Weeks Earlier

"Come on, Y/n! You'd be great at it!"

Dick's voice had that pitch it got when he was dangerously close to pulling out a PowerPoint.

Tim looked up from his laptop in the Batcave. Damian stood beside you, chin high, clearly backing up Dick's argument like a tiny lawyer defending his case.

"I already told you," You spoke calmly, hands tucked in your coat pockets, "I don't do capes."

"But you wouldn't need a cape!" Dick countered. "You could go minimalist—sleek armor, maybe a hood—oh, and a cool emblem. Like a flame or something!"

"Richard." Damian cut in, unimpressed. "My Father is not auditioning for Project Runway."

Tim snorted. "Yet."

You gave him a look—amused, exasperated—and somehow that made Tim want to smirk harder.

"I appreciate the enthusiasm," Your voice was even, "But I don't think Gotham needs another masked figure running across rooftops."

"Correction," Dick interrupted, still smiling. "Gotham always needs another masked figure running across rooftops. Preferably one who doesn't shoot at cops or talks in a creepy voice."

Damian crossed his arms. "Bruce would approve."

That got everyone's attention.

"Would he?" You questioned.

"He tolerates Jason," Damian answered flatly. "And you are far superior."

Jason, who had been cleaning his gun nearby, laughed. "Gee, thanks, kid. Real confidence boost."

"I speak only facts, Todd."

Tim watched the whole exchange from his desk chair, pretending to type while listening carefully.

He wasn't sure how he felt about it. On one hand, you'd be an incredible ally—efficient, lethal, methodical. On the other hand, the risk factor skyrocketed. You were already powerful enough without a vigilante license (if such thing even existed).

And yet...

You looked at Damian then. The kid was practically glowing under your gaze—this quiet, proud sort of light that softened every sharp edge in him.

Tim caught himself smiling. Just a little.

You sighed eventually. "Fine."

"Fine?" Dick perked up instantly. "As in—"I'll think about it fine' or 'I'm in fine'?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Is there a difference?"

Jason barked a laugh. "You just signed your soul to the Bat, buddy."

Tim remembered the way you tilted your head then, like you didn't quite understand the gravity of what you'd just agreed to. Or maybe you did, and you just didn't care.

"Guess I'm in, then," You replied.

And that was that.

Damian smirked triumphantly, Dick practically vibrated with joy, Jason muttered something about 'another one for the team,' and Bruce—standing quietly in the background—nodded once, approval hidden behind stoicism.

Tim didn't say anything. He simply watched.

Because somewhere between your calm acceptance and Damian's rare smile, something in the air shifted.

It felt like balance.

And maybe Tim hadn't realized how much the Manor needed that until right then.

Back to the Present

Tim closed his laptop with a sigh.

He leaned back in his chair, rubbing at his eyes, listening to the faint hum of the Batcomputer. The cave was quiet now, save for the distant sound of the elevator whirring. You'd been here earlier, talking strategy with Bruce and Dick about patrol zones, your voice low and measured, the kind of tone that made even Bruce pause and listen.

Tim couldn't remember the last time someone made Bruce listen.

That was... impressive.

He glanced toward the small mug sitting near the monitor—yours. Still warm. You always left it there, like some unspoken ritual, as if marking your place in a house you didn't live in.

Tim wasn't sentimental, not really, but something about that tiny habit made his chest feel too tight.

"You overthink," You'd told him once, weeks ago.

"I plan," Tim had corrected. "That's what thinking ahead looks like."

You'd just smiled. "There's a difference between thinking ahead and running from what's behind you."

He'd hated how that sentence stuck with him.

Even now, sitting in the dim glow of the Batcomputer, he thought about it. About how easy you made it look—living with everything you were and not letting it crush you.

You had every reason to be bitter, dangerous, detached. But instead you were... gentle. Like you'd made peace with the darkness in ways the rest of them hadn't.

Tim envied that.

He didn't want to admit it, but he did.

Suddenly, the elevator door opened softly, and your voice drifted down.

"Still awake, Timmy?"

He turned in his chair. You stepped into the light—no armor tonight, just a jacket and that calm energy that somehow filled every space you entered.

"Couldn't sleep," He answered. "Working."

You raised an eyebrow, walking closer. "On me again?"

Tim froze. "Define 'on you.'"

You laughed quietly. "Contingency plans, countermeasures, whatever you call them. You always look guilty when I ask."

"I don't look guilty," He muttered.

You leaned against the console beside him, arms folded. "But you do look tired."

Tim hesitated, fingers hovering above the keyboard. "Occupational hazard."

"You know," You began softly, "You don't have to carry all of it by yourself."

He wanted to scoff. He almost did. But the sincerity in your tone disarmed him.

"I'm used to it," He said instead.

"Doesn't mean you have to like it."

For a second, he didn't know what to say. The cave felt heavier somehow, quieter.

Then you nudged a coffee mug toward him. "Drink. It's still warm."

He took it reluctantly, sipping once. It was bitter—exactly how he liked it.

"Thanks, Y/n."

You just smiled and headed for the elevator again. "Goodnight, Timmy."

"Goodnight," He responded automatically.

When the doors closed behind you, Tim sat there for a while, staring at the monitor, the taste of coffee still lingering on his tongue.

He scrolled through the document open on the left monitor:

"Subject: Y/n [Codename Pending] — Status: Ally (Tentative) — Threat (Omega Level)."

Tim's fingers hesitated above the keyboard.

Tentative.

He'd written that word months ago. There weren't many people who could throw him off balance. But you did. You and that infuriating calm that made every calculated risk feel irrelevant.

You come from a world that should've made you the perfect threat—League of Assassins, trained by Ra's himself, half-demon hybrid, physically superior, overwhelming magic, and practically immortal.

You should have been a red flag.

A walking contingency.

However...

Tim exhaled quietly, and typed the final note on your file:

"Status: Ally (Confirmed)."

He hit save.

He then turned off the screen, and the Cave went dark except for the faint hum of servers.

He'd never say it out loud, but... maybe you weren't a contingency after all.

You knew who your father was from the very start - he left letters along with the sword when you reached a certain age. You had the snow-white hair but yours had black tips from your mother, your eyes were amber just like your father's and brothers', your skin was tan like theirs too and you had the face markings but only one on each cheek, and of course, you had the ears on top of your head - you were a Half-Demon, after all.

When you told your mother that you wanted to travel and see the world, she gave you a [Favorite Color] Robe, the Fang your father left you called the [Fang Name], and some cash along with a horse to get around.

When you traveled, you would do odd jobs in the villages you visited to earn some extra cash - you didn't care what the job was, so long as it paid you well enough to feed your horse and you until reaching the next village.

There were some villages that were harder to deal with than others - like some priests & priestesses wanting to exorcise you for the fact you had demon blood in your veins, regardless of you not being hostile. You didn't act violent towards them and just did jobs for those that were willing to have a Half-Demon's Aid.

[Dealing With Inuyasha]

It was a complete chance that you met one of your elder brothers. You picked up a contract on a demon that was causing trouble for the village and went hunting him down at his hideout. You killed him and when his body split open, you found a small pink jewel shard. You knew what this was, your mother told you stories about this - it was The Shikon no Tama/The Jewel of the 4 Souls/The Sacred Jewel. You didn't know much about the origin of it but you knew that both demons and humans would kill for just a fragment of this thing.

That's when it happened.

Your nose caught the scent of people and you looked down the path to see a group of people coming: A Half-Demon - he looked just like you and he was wearing a red robe; he even had a sword similar to your own, a woman with a strange outfit but you can tell from the spiritual pressure that she was a priestess, a monk, a demon slayer, a small fox demon child, and a two-tailed cat demon.

"Inuyasha." The woman in strange clothes said as she pointed at you, "They have the Jewel Shard."

"Looks like they killed the demon that had the shard first." The Demon Slayer said.

"Did they kill the demon to get the shard for themself?" The Fox Demon Cub asked from his place on the woman's shoulder.

"I don't give a damn how they got it." The Half-Demon said as he pulled the sword from its sheath - the katana-shaped blade grew into a massive blade and the sword around your waist began pulsing as if reaching to the sword's presence. "Hey, hand over the Jewel Shard & I won't have to take it from you." The Dog Demon demanded.

You looked at the shard shining in your hand and placed it in your robe - you weren't gonna keep it, maybe, but you wanted to see where this would go. "I was hired to kill this demon and I happened to find the shard in my kill's body; the way I see it, this Jewel Shard is mine by right of conquest." You said as you turned to face them.

"I don't a damn about that! Hand over the shard or I'll tear you to shreds." He demanded - you could see wind dancing around the blade.

"Try it." You welcomed.

"Your Funeral! WIND SCAR!!!" He roared as he banged the sword on the ground and yellow blades of power charged at you. You pulled your sword out of its sheath and with a swing of your sword - a vortex of wind charged into his attack and they cancel each other out. He was shocked and you placed your sword back in the case.

"You really are as hot-headed as the stories tell, Inuyasha." You explained.

"How the hell do you know my name?!" He barked.

"Long story short, I'm the youngest of Toga's Children & I'm a Half-Demon, like you." You said.

After collecting prove of your bounty, you and Inuyasha's group went back to town where you received your payment but you kept some of the demon horns and fangs for your own purposes. You purchased a small room to rest where Inuyasha began asking you questions and you answered them without fail.

Kagome - the woman in strange clothing - made the comment that you seemed calmer than Inuyasha and not as cold as Sesshōmaru. You explained that's just how you were. Sango - the Demon Slayer - asked if you were going to travel with them from now on, looking for the Jewel Shards & Hunting Naraku, but you said that you weren't interested in things like that. Inuyasha tried to pull the big brother card and said that you had to come with him so he could keep an eye on you but you said that you didn't need a brother then and you didn't need one now.

You also stated: "I have no need for a brother that can't even decide if he wants to give his heart to his present or his past."

You reached into your robe and took out the Jewel Shard and tossed it to Inuyasha before standing up and walking away, he was gonna stop you but Kagome stopped him with a 'Sit' as you mounted your horse and rode away.

[Dealing With Sesshōmaru]

You were traveling through a region that had forests on mountains and decided this was a good place to rest for the day, maybe do some training. You found a spot where the river flowed and had fresh fish - you tied your horse to a tree so it could have a drink and gave him a bucket of food while you hunted for your own.

You caught 5 fish and began cooking them ever the fire when a scent hit your nose and you explained. "I know you are hiding there, behind the tree at my back. Come out - both of you." You called out.

The shocked gasp was followed by a little green demon with a staff with 2 heads stumble from behind the tree and a much larger man stepped from behind it with a stern look in his amber eyes. He walked out from hiding and [Fang Name] began to shake, just as it did when you first met Inuyasha.

"Let me guess - Tōga's First Son & Wielder of The Tenseiga: Sesshōmaru, right?" you asked without turning to look in his direction but your ears picked up on him coming closer.

"That's Lord Sesshōmaru to you!" The small green demon said as h waved his staff at you with tiny angry but his rant was cut short as the back of his head was hit by Sesshōmaru's fluff as the tall demon looked down at you.

"I was wondering why Tenseiga was acting strange since we entered this region." His glared looks down at the sheathed sword secured in the sash around your waist, "That's another of my father's fangs. So, he made more than Tessaiga, Tenseiga, and Sō'unga?" He asked you.

"That's correct. This is [Fang Name] and I know you can tell by the smell of my blood - I am his youngest spawn & a Half-Demon, you knew that before even coming here." You said, still not turning to him.

"Smart." He said.

"Then tell me - why have you not attempted to attack me and take [Fang Name] for yourself?" You questioned.

"Why would I?" He questioned.

"I've heard of your dislikes of Humans & Half-Demons, mainly the middle brother: Inuyasha, since he got the fang you wanted. You can sense the power in [Fang Name], I could feel your gaze on it; so why don't you try to take it?" You questioned.

He was silent for a moment before he walked over to you and sat beside you - now in your peripheral vision - but he kept his eyes to the flowing river. You both just sat there - listening to the river and the fire crackling. The fish was done, you took -ff and offered to your eldest brother.

"You're wasting your time. Lord Sesshōmaru doesn't eat human food and...HUH?!" His jaw fell open as he watched his lord take the fish in his hand before taking a bite from it; even a muttered thank you.

You both ate in silence for at least a few hours before the sun began to sink over the horizon & he rose to his feet and began to walk away - he stopped halfway in the field and you knew.

"I shall not follow, Sesshōmaru; as I have told Inuyasha - I didn't need brothers then and I don't know." You said.

"You shall not follow me today but one day you will - it's my will that you stay close to me. The next time we meet, you shall travel with me." he walked away, into the darkness of the forest.

You stood outside of Totosai's Forge - feeding and giving water to [Horse Name] with an enchanted bucket that wouldn't evaporate in the harsh climates of Molten Plains.

It didn't bother you because of the new robes you were wearing - Made from the fabrics of the pelts from the Elemental Demons you killed on your travels and tucked away in the shirt pocket was the pouch of Sacred Jewel Shards.

Today was the day that Totosai was going to be finished with your sword - all you had to do was wait for a while - but for some reason, you were on edge...and the reason why came when you felt someone approaching you to find behind, mumbling to himself. You stood to see Sesshōmaru's Little Demon Ally - Jaken - you believed his name was.

"Hello, Jaken." You called out, startling him, making him look in your direction.

"WHO?! Wait, I remember you - you are the middle sibling of Lord Sesshōmaru - Lord/Lady [Your Name]." Jaken said as he pointed his staff in your direction.

"That's my name...but don't call me Lord/Lady; it doesn't suit me." You asked before walking over to him, "Now, what brings you all the way out here?" You asked him with folded arms.

"Oh - Lord Sesshōmaru was here a few weeks ago to command Totosai to commission him a sword and he was going in this direction when he felt a massive power coming from this direction - It must be the sword that was made for my master." Jaken said.

"I'm afraid that is where you are wrong. The power you and Sesshōmaru were sensing was the sword that Totosai is making for me. I killed the Elemental Demon Generals and collected their remains and asked Totosai to make me a blade." You explained, leaving Jaken's jaw hitting the ground.

"I thought something as off." A familiar voice made your eyes narrow before you turned to face your eldest brother, "I was wondering why I no longer sensed the Elemental Demons Generals' Powers...you killed them, My Sibling. How incredible." Sesshōmaru smiled - wait, smiled? Since when did he smile?

"Why are you here, Sesshōmaru?" You asked with your arms folded.

"I was coming to kill Totosai for refusing to make my sword...but now that you are here; I have a better reason to be here." He said.

"I already told you that I have no interest in traveling with you, Elder Brother." You glared.

"And I told you that the next time we meet, you would surrender to my will, Younger Sister/Brother." Sesshōmaru said with a smile still on his face.

It was at that moment Totosai came with the finished sword in his hands but was silent when he found Sesshōmaru there, you reached out and he placed the sword in your hand before he ran to his cow and flew into the skies.

You glared into your elder brother's eyes as you placed the sword in the sash around your waist before placing your hand on the handle, showing your brother that - regardless of him being the eldest of all 3 of you - you were not afraid to face him.

But...could you survive his attacks?

After weeks of traveling and stopping to deal with demons terrorizing towns, priests & priestesses wanting to execute you for being what you were, or running into Inuyasha, Sesshōmaru, or Koga - You finally reached the volcanic plains that lead to the Forge of the Famous Sword Demon - Totosai.

Using the Molten Protection Charm Totosai gave you for your horse, the two of you began walking along the black and lava-pit ground to reach the skull with 3 bags full of spoils of war...as well as 3 dead boars tied behind the bags.

The last time you talked to Inuyasha - he sniffed you out - you heard that Totosai ate an entire boar in one bite and acted as if he was still hungry. 3 boars should be more than enough - 2 for him and one for you...unless he decided to take yours too. Hopefully not.

The sound of [Horse Name] neighing snapped you out of your daydreaming to see the two of you had reached the large skull - the smell of brimstone & ashes. You jumped off [Horse Name], giving them a loving stroke on their snout - getting a snort in approval - before taking the bags of demon spoils under one arm with the boars under the other arm.

You called out to Totosai - who smiled to see you (Or maybe he was happy to see you brought him food). You cooked all the boars and sliced them into steaks so that Totosai could enjoy them instead of inhaling them while he looked through the bags of demon fangs and claws, asking you what you wanted for your weapons and armor.

You told him you wanted an extra sword - made from the 5 fangs of elemental demons you slew during your travels: A Fire Cat, A Water Dragon, A Earth Ogre, and A Lighting Warlord. You asked him to use the fangs into one blade since you already controlled air and [Fang Name] was a spirit blade.

As for armor, you asked him to make a robe made from the fur of the fire car with gauntlets made from the claws of a demon with claws of steel.

You also asked him for a bow made from the steel claws as well so it would last longer and your vortex control wouldn't break it.

After dinner, Totosai said it would take a week and offered you to stay with him for the time being but he asked you to hunt for the both of you. You agreed and unpacked a bedroll - spending your time meditation before it was time to hunt and get [Horse Name] some food.

One week. Why did you feel like something was going to happen during your stay here?

[Around 3-4 Weeks After Meeting Sesshōmaru]

Another bounty in the bag - more demon fangs and horns added to your collection; you were certain that this amount was enough to bring to the Demon Swordsmith - Totosai. You met him before, when you first began your road to independence, he approached you on his flying 3-eyed and introduced himself, you were respectful to him and bowed before you thanked him for crafted the sword that you now wield.

His response: "I'm surprised you're polite - both your brothers have tried to kill me when I first announced myself." The old man exhaled.

"As you can see, I am nothing like my brothers. So, is there something I can do for you?" You questioned him.

"Actually, there is something I can do for you." He said. He explained that he knew you would engage in bounty hunting as a way of making a living and - if you were willing - he would craft you a new weapon, armor, or whatever you wanted if you brought him enough fangs and armor.

He told you the location of his forge and you offered him to stay for dinner - which he devoured the most of - before you wished him a safe journey back home.

Now, you were riding upon [Horse Name]'s back with 4 large sacks containing the spoils over your bounty while your clawed fingers held the reins and your amber eyes looked at the path ahead - the road to the volcanic field where Totosai lived. It was a rather quiet day, not too much was goining on and you half-expected to run into Inuyasha and his Gang; after all, you did have something he wanted. One of your hands released the reins and reached into your robe's inner layer, then you pulled out a small [Favorite Color] pouch, smaller than the palm of your hand and looked at it - the aura of 5 Sacred Jewel Shards radiating from inside.

That's right - you had 5 Sacred Jewel Shards in your possession but you didn't use them; they were nothing but small spoils of battle or backups in case something happened and you needed a little bit more power. You knew that Inuyasha's stangely dressed priestess could sense the shards so you knew that they would find you eventually, but these were your shards and you weren't gonna let anyone take them from you. That's when they began glowing again then the scent of...wolf?

'Where's that smell coming from?' You questioned as you placed the pouch back into your robe when a wind vortex came flowing down the path in your direction - you covered your eyes while [Horse Name] closed his eyes and turned his head to the side. The wind pressure suddenly disappeared and the smell was more powerful. You opened your eyes and came face-to-face with a humanoid wolf demon.

He had tanish skin, long black hair in a ponytail, armor and patches of brown wolf fur on his forearms, shins, shoulders, around his head like a headband, and his tail; he also had a sword but you didn't smell a lot of iron on it, so he must not have used it much. He glared into your amber eyes with his light blue eyes that had a glare but you weren't fazed.

"Is there something I can help you with?" You asked with an uninterested tone.

"You're not that mutt, and here I thought I was gonna get to see Kagome again." He groaned in disappointment; that name made you raise an eyebrow.

"Kagome? You mean Inuyasha's Preistess Companion?" You asked, this made him look at you with confusion in his eyes.

"You know Kagome? How? And how do you know that damn mutt's name?" The wolf demon questioned.

"I know that 'mutt' because he is my elder brother & I recently met Kagome and the other members of Inuyasha's party when I took down bounty that had a jewel shard." You explained.

"Wait, you're that mutt's brother/sister?! I thought he didn't have any other siblings other than his older brother!" The wolf demon said with wide eyes.

"He didn't know I existed until we met that day. The name is [Your Name.]." You introduced yourself.

"The name is Koga the Wolf Demon. Just where the hell are you going?" He questioned.

"That's none of your business." You glared at him, making him raise his hands.

"Hey, no need to be hostile. Just a question." He said. Then he felt his the jewels in his legs and you felt the jewel shards in the pouch in your robe began glowing again, addition of a warm feeling. You both looked at each other before he spoke, "You have jewel shards?" He asked.

"They are spoils of war and - just like my jounry - none of your business." You said but he narrowed his eyes.

"See, that's where you're wrong - I need to find as many jewel shards as I came so I can take out Naraku and I can feel you have a lot so..." He raised his hand, "Give them to me." He demanded.

"No. Now, get out of my way so I can leave." You demanded.

"No, either you give me those shards out I will..." He was cut off as you held out you open palm in his direction, "Hey, what are you...?"

"Vortex." You spoke and a powerful vortex of wind shot from the palm of your hand and charged at Koga, carrying him away in its strong currents until it was out of your sight. You exhaled and continued on your path - to tired to deal with anything else that day.