My second book in my imagines collection. With characters from all fandoms, ranging from Satoru Gojo to Violet Baudelaire, and more! (With stories for both male and female readers!)
The Gotham cityscape stretched endlessly beneath the night sky, its lights twinkling like earthbound stars. Batman and Y/N, the elder Wayne brother, crouched atop the Wayne Enterprises building, their capes billowing in the cool evening breeze. They had just wrapped up a successful mission, thwarting the Penguin's latest scheme to flood the Diamond District with counterfeit jewellery.
Y/N's hand absently drifted to the small velvet box in his utility belt – a compartment usually reserved for smoke pellets now held something far more precious. The movement didn't escape Bruce's notice.
"You seem distracted tonight," Batman observed, his voice softer than usual when speaking to his older brother.
Y/N smiled, the expression visible beneath his midnight blue mask. "I can't hide anything from you, can I, little brother?" He withdrew the box, opening it to reveal a stunning platinum ring adorned with a central diamond surrounded by smaller sapphires – a design that captured the essence of Silver's eyes. "I'm going to ask her tonight."
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Bruce's stern demeanour melted into a genuine smile. "It's about time. You two were meant for each other – anyone can see that."
"You really think so?" Y/N asked, though his voice carried more excitement than uncertainty.
"Silver figured out who we were faster than anyone else," Bruce reminded him. "She understands this life, accepts it. More than that, she makes you better – both as a hero and as a man. Alfred's going to be overjoyed."
Y/N carefully tucked the ring box away. "I've already asked him to help set everything up at the manor. Speaking of which..." He stood, stretching his muscles after the long night. "I should head back. Can you handle the police and Gordon tonight?"
"Go," Bruce urged, clasping his brother's shoulder. "Make her happy."
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Back at Wayne Manor, Silver St. Cloud stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of the library, a well-worn copy of "Pride and Prejudice" forgotten in her hands as she gazed out at the moonlit gardens. Living at the manor these past months had been like stepping into a dream – albeit one where her boyfriend and his brother regularly donned costumes to fight crime.
The sound of footsteps in the hallway made her turn, expecting Alfred with his customary evening tea. Instead, she found the butler conspicuously absent, but noticed something unusual: a trail of rose petals leading from the library doorway toward the garden terrace.
Silver's heart began to race. Setting down her book, she followed the trail, her bare feet silent on the plush carpet. The petals led her through the French doors and into the garden, where Alfred had outdone himself. Hundreds of tiny lights twinkled in the carefully manicured hedges, creating a magical atmosphere that rivalled the stars above.
The path wound through Y/N's favourite part of the garden, a secluded area featuring a marble fountain surrounded by Silver's beloved blue roses – a variety Alfred cultivated specifically for her. There, standing by the fountain in his perfectly tailored suit (how had he changed so quickly?), stood Y/N.
