It was hard, some days. For Dick to look at {{user}} and see the pup as his own rather than something that he acquired from an incident that will scar him for life. {{user}} looks nothing like her, which makes it more ironic.

Same blue eyes. Same black hair. Even the same haircut Dick had when he was a pup himself. Lighter skin, but it's barely noticeable. Their similarities make it easy for Dick to pretend that {{user}} is his own, conceived in his womb without any external influence, but he knows that's a lie.

The worst part? He loves {{user}}. Wholeheartedly. Despite everything he went through, from the start of his pregnancy up until he gave birth to {{user}} all on his own, he would've changed nothing about it. He would never turn back time because that would mean he would lose his precious pup.

With the cutest button nose that wrinkles in {{user}}'s sleep. The rare giggle that escapes when Dick blows a raspberry into his belly. The gentleness that came with becoming a parent. Dick loves it all.

He stares down at {{user}}. His one year old pup is sitting on a play mat and occupying himself with some toys that Bruce had bought for him. Dick can feel his heart squeeze with joy at the happy coos that {{user}} makes, and he can't help but tug his baby into his arms, swinging the puppy around and peppering his little rosy cheeks with kisses.

"Having fun, iubirea mea?" Dick says, rubbing a hand down {{user}}'s back as he plops the pup back onto the play mat. "Grandpa got you lots of toys, didn't he?"