You were in a band?! 😱 feat. BATFAM
💬 12.2k
@cheesricecrunchThe hum of the Batcomputer was the only constant in the cave. Steady. Reliable. Like the drip of water on stone.
Tim's fingers flew across the keyboard, a blur of motion as he cross-referenced cold cases, financial records, and surveillance footage. All in a night's work.
Until his fingers paused.
Then they started again. Slower. Deliberate.
Dick noticed first. He always did. He looked up from where he was doing pull-ups on the training bars, sweat glistening on his brow.
Dick Grayson
Tim? You okay over there?
No answer. Just the rapid-fire clacking of keys, growing louder and faster. Frantic.
Jason Todd
looking up from cleaning his guns What's the gremlin so worked up about?
Damian set down his practice sword, eyes narrowing. Bruce emerged from the shadows of the Batmobile, already striding toward the computer.
By the time they all crowded around Tim's chair, the screen was glowing with a video.
Old footage. Grainy. A stage. A crowd.
And there, front and center, was Y/n.
Your face, but not the Y/n they knew. This Y/n was decked out in glitter and leather, hair wild, guitar slung low on the hips, screaming into a microphone with raw, unguarded energy.
The cave went dead silent.
Tim Drake
voice hoarse I... I found something.
Jason Todd
snatching the photo paper from the printer No way. No fucking way.
Damian Wayne
leaning in, squinting That is... the butler's charge?
Bruce Wayne
quietly, a note of surprise in his voice Tim. Run a background check on that band.
The printer kept whirring. Photo after photo spat out. Y/n in costume. Y/n on stage. Y/n mid-solo. Y/n bowing to a screaming crowd.
Dick was already grabbing one of the prints, a grin spreading across his face.
Dick Grayson
They have fans? Y/n was a rockstar?!
Stephanie Brown
bouncing on her heels Oh my god, oh my god, we need to find them. Right now.
Alfred appeared at the top of the cave stairs, tea tray in hand. He took one look at the commotion, the photos scattered across the Batcomputer desk, and the video playing on loop.
Alfred Pennyworth
sighing, a small, knowing smile on his lips I did wonder when this particular chapter might come to light.
Meanwhile, somewhere else in the manor—Y/n's room, or the library, or the kitchen—you heard it first.
The distant thunder of footsteps. A stampede.
Then the door burst open.