Batboys Oneshots

Happily Ever After Part 1- Dick Grayson

"Come on, it'll be cute!" (b/f/n) exclaims while holding up the puffy, baby blue ball dress. "Why can't I just go as a crackhead or something?" You complain, not wanting to wear the heavy thing all night long. You flop on their bed, already exhausted from all the commotion from that day.

"Because you would just be yourself." You hear from the closet, (b/f/n) standing up with a shoe box in their hand. You roll over letting out a loud groan.

"What if I don't want to go to this Halloween party? We should just stay home and watch horror movies like Bloodline or Eli."

"You said a week ago to me, that you would come, I'm going as a butterfly. And you, are going as Cinderella. Because, for some reason you didn't think to get a costume." You get up and take another gander at the dress.

Starting from the top, the completely tulle puffy sleeves. Sewn on small glittery butterflies, blue and white ones. The smooth bodice, simple stitching down to the skirt. The poofy layers, which went down to the floor.

"It's based off the Lily James movie, not the original 1950 one. Fun fact, the dress was supposed to be white and silver. The quality of the VHS made it look blue, fans liked it, so Disney never changed it." (b/f/n) states, looking at the dress proudly. They were the one to make it.

"I'll make you a deal. I will wear the dress but I'm not wearing a wig." You say with a serious look in your eyes. (b/f/n)'s eyes light up with excitement and they nod, grabbing your hand to drag you to your shared bathroom. Automatically springing into action, grabbing makeup.

"You're lucky, Cinderella has natural beauty therefore we don't need heavy makeup." They say, applying light foundation, concealer and setting powder. Followed by blush, eyebrows, mascara, a nude shade of eyeshadow and lip gloss. They hold a highlighter in their hands before looking at you. You nod, and they proceed to make you shine.

"Pretty as a princess." They say before letting you look in the mirror, it was a lot calmer than what they have done to you before. It was elegant and most importantly, you still looked and felt like you.

"Put your arms up and I'll put the dress on." You do as your told, slight pulling and tugging to put the dress into place on your body. A small corset at the back, more secure than a zipper and easier to let different people wear the dress. (b/f/n) stands back and looks at you, then nods in approval before waving to go back to the bathroom.

Beginning on your hair, braiding 2 sections on each side of your head before meeting them in the middle at the back with a ponytail. They curl bits and pieces of your hair, teasing a few before adding butterfly clips, along with bobby pins.

"Voila." They say before leaving to start getting ready. You stand up, the dress being lighter than expected. Walking to the bedroom to pick up the previously placed shoe box on the bed, then taking a seat on the couch.

"How did you even get us invited?" You shout out to them, looking up from your phone to see them pacing into the bathroom.

"I know somebody, and not just met them once and say they are my friend. Her name is Dinah, she was there the day the attack happened. We kept in contact after that, she's pretty cool. I'll introduce you two tonight. She is married too so maybe she can help us." You huff in response; dating was the last of your concerns.

You look down at the shoe box, hesitant to open it. How does a person make or find a pair of heels that resemble and feel comfy to Cinderella's? You open it and to your surprise they were close to the real thing.

"Holographic tape, that's the beginner version of how I made them." They shout from their room; the shoes were beautiful. They glistened in the light that was in the apartment, the crystal-like shoes with a butterfly on the front of each. Not too steep of a heel either so no early feet pain in the night.

(b/f/n) runs out with their costume, a crimson rose butterfly. A headband with antennae on it, a plain black body suit, red and black streaks in their hair, black, white and red makeup to match colour scheme. On their back, the intricate pattern in the shape of the wings. 2 bands attached to their wrists, free to flow and be opened.

"I wanted to stick out and be a different kind of butterfly." They say looking down at their outfit, happiness spread across their face. You smile, they looked quite spectacular.

"Time to go?" You ask, they get a purse to throw over. Keys, money, phones, pain killers and tissues stuffed into the purse. You never know what may happen, along with a few extra bobby pins.

"Why are we at a rich person's house?" You ask, the ride had been the normal so far. Chatting about nerves, the people who will be there, different costumes, until you noticed the neighbourhood that you went into. (b/f/n) looks at you with a smile that said 'surprise?', your shoulders and face drop with annoyance.

"How would you feel if I said that the people at the party are very professional and own like really expensive and popular companies." Your eyes widen in panic, before you can say anything (b/f/n) starts talking. "If I told you, you would've chickened out and I want you to have fun. Plus, we can make fun of posh people when we leave!" They say with a fake hopefulness, trying to lighten your mood.

"Is that why you dressed me up?"

"Maybe."

"I hate you."

"You look very wealthy and like a princess (y/n) so win win." You guys arrive at a house where dozens of paparazzi are standing outside to take pictures.

You see people in different costumes, some as parts of mafia, or some as royalty. Most of them just had some plain masks, like the purge but fancy. A few angels and devils, most people held their head up high in confidence, no one though had a huge ballgown with butterflies. Sure, some as Disney princesses but it was a cheaper and lazier version of it.

"Whose house are we at?" You ask, (b/f/n) buzzing with a need for adventure turns and replies.

"Oh, I have no idea!" They say, bouncing with delight. Extroverted energy coursing through their body. We pull up to the gate, where (b/f/n) talks to the security guard on how we were invited and by who. Magically, we are let in.

"Please don't trip when we first get out of the car." (b/f/n) pleads, knowing your clumsy side which paired up with your nerves. I mean how could you not be anxious, attending a party with rich, snozzy people that you didn't even plan on going to.