Robin one shot part 3!

Welcome to the glass ceiling

-Zinnia-chan- here is your request from forever ago for a mtf Dick Grayson

There's no transphobia here but I will put some lovely helplines and supportive stuff here if you're also trans 

UK: MindLine Trans + 0300 330 5468

USA: Trans Lifeline: (877) 565-8860

Canada: Trans Lifeline – 1-877-330-6366

https://translifeline.org/

When Diana thought of coming out, she always thought of the finality of it all. You couldn't really take back what was said when you came out. You could pretend it didn't happen along with everyone else, everything could go well and you didn't have to pretend like it never happened or shit hit the fan and before you knew it everything was upside down. Fearing the latter of those outcomes, she remained Dick to everyone around her. She could play the part very well so no one suspected that she'd come to understand she wasn't a boy which she was rather proud of considering her family was made up of the best detectives Gotham could offer and her friends were well-known heroes with a knack for finding secrets. The very fact that the Dick Grayson he/him pronouns haver act had gotten her so far since her realisation was almost incredible. But with the act came consequences. There was guilt when she stole make-up from Steph or Barbara, the name she no longer identified with felt like knives against her psyche when she heard it and the clothes that only accentuated the parts of herself she couldn't correct with contour alone reminded her everyday that she was hiding. That could only go on for so long. There was one thing that brought her joy without the hang-ups of gender and that was being Robin. The name itself was gender-neutral and even the villains kept it gender-neutral with brat, little birdie and other unoriginal spins for pain in the ass. It helped that she was surrounded by powerful women too so she knew she could make it as her true self but she didn't know how true that self would be. None of them was trans like she was. It was one thing to be a woman who protected the city yet there was another hurdle she'd jump through as a trans woman. Was thirteen the right time for that weight on her shoulders? She supposed the weight of the world she'd been carrying there since nine couldn't get any heavier. Besides, she was plenty capable of handling herself if things didn't go right when she told the truth to everyone. She wasn't like other thirteen-year-olds. She could handle herself, forge a few records here and there to say she was moved into somebody else's care if worst came to worst. She just couldn't live under the false pretence of Dick Grayson anymore. At the very least, the person she named herself after should know but she couldn't very well tell her and expect it to remain a secret. No, she had to go all out. Rip it off like a plaster. One big massive plaster because she apparently had to be adopted by everyone in a five-mile radius. Damn her adorable features and likeability! 

Nevertheless, she woke up that morning and sat through breakfast decidedly unhappy with who she was remaining a secret. She heard her name one too many times which wasn't too surprising given just how many people were living there. There were even more due to the family mission that weekend. The pieces were lined up for her and she wondered if this was her sign. Even if it wasn't, she was taking the chance. When things got quiet, she chewed on her bottom lip and pushed some food about her plate. There was another sign. She glanced around the room to gauge the mood of that morning. Damian was stoic as was Bruce. Tim was chatting to Steph, Cass carefully pitching in with glances. That's all she ever needed to get her point across. It was amazing. Jason was eating his food fast as usual. She wondered if it came from the fear of never knowing where his next meal would be. They never asked, he never told. Not in the time she'd been there at least. Barbara kept sending her looks that represented their own little language. She kept asking if it was okay to take things to put on her plate. Alfred moved around the table every so often to replace or take things away. Always taking care of them. She'd miss him if things changed. She shifted in her chair and took a deep breath. "Uhm, I'd like to uh say something," she announced before she could truly take in that this was it.