#batfam x reader series

[cas-backwards-tie]

Heiress Of Gotham Masterlist

Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Summary: After the sudden loss of your mother to mysterious circumstances, you’re claimed by a father you didn’t know you had: Bruce Wayne. If it isn’t bad enough that you’re complete strangers to one another, your world is flipped upside down with all the changes said to come with the Wayne name. What’s worse is that you’re not so sure your mother’s death was an accident.

Warnings: Angst, Anti-Police themes, Cursing, Depression themes, Negativity, Numbness, Disassociation, Depression, Existentialism, Cursing, Misandry, Crying, Suicidal Thoughts (if u squint), Yelling, Outbursts, Injury, Blood, Catcalling, Threats, Funeral, Knives, Fighting, Panic Attacks, Shame, Guilt, Fight or Flight, Spying, Voyeurism, Flirting

Mentions of: Death, Suicide, Body Fluids, Bodies, Sex Trafficking, Criminal Activities, Drug Busts, Prostitution, Assassins,

Part One Chapters: Seed Uprooted | Cruel New World | Memories Embarked | Desolate Days | Threatened to Reset | Summer of a Lifetime | Uncharted Territory | Reckless Decisions & Dancing | Fake Dates & Milkshakes | Revenge and Retribution

[gotham-daydreams]

Not Here

[Yandere! Platonic! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]

[Warnings: Mentions of neglect, Mild Yandere Behavior, Batfam being hella stupid.]

(Not really proofread. The birds and bats seeing that y'know- maybe not paying attention to people and neglecting them isn't a good thing. Chaos ensues. More of a development thing. Might be a little ooc?)

Tags: @bigcandlesmolbrain

Chapter 2 of this post. Chapter 3 Pt. 1, Pt. 2. [Series Masterlist]

๑۩۞۩๑—————————————————————๑۩۞۩๑

Bruce liked to think he was a good father, for anything that was worth. Or at the very least, a decent one.

He wasn't perfect by any means, but he felt like he raised his children the best he could, and had made them into responsible and diligent adults. Dick was a great example of this, and even if Damian was still growing up, Bruce had hope that he'd turn out to be good as well. The hardships his current Robin had to face would pay off in the end, Bruce was almost too sure of that.

Those he decided to take under his wing had their flaws, yes, but even if he didn't say it out loud or point it out often. He did believe that they were good at what they do, or at least were on the right path to becoming good vigilantes. Bruce couldn't help but be proud and prideful of where his children and sidekicks were, and could only look forward to how they would continue to develop as time went on. Despite their feelings towards him, and his own faults, mistakes, paranoia, and so on. Along with how he felt about them, and their flaws — he couldn't help but respect the people those in his little mess of a family where becoming, and turning out to be.

Or maybe he was both overestimating and underestimating himself, and the true effects he had on those he decided to look after.

Since, for a few days now, he felt like something was... off.

The Manor seemed quieter these days, and even if he couldn't remember a time where it was particularly loud, the detail felt misplaced to him. Sure, he hasn't hosted a gala or party in a while, but that didn't feel like it was the reason why the silence suddenly bothered him.

Bruce tried to think of all possible reasons, a little surprised himself that this feeling of his was bothering him so much, but the more he thought about it the more confused he became. There didn't seem to be a particular reason for this... and yet, just as he was about to put this feeling aside, he heard it.

["I, um, I was just wondering..."]

["Oh, uhh, that's quite alright! Oh, one moment please... oh! Second chorus... T'was brilling, and the slithy toves, did gyre and gimble in the wade..."]

It sounded like some sort of... play? Bruce wasn't too sure, but still decided to check it out regardless, wondering why something like that was playing in the first place.

So, allowing the sounds of the play to guide him, he continued on.

["Why- why you're a cat!"]

The voices grew louder as Bruce drew closer, interest peaked as he tried to recall and see of he knew this play. The lines sounding familiar, now that he was really listening to them.

["A Cheshire Cat. All mimsy were the borogoves..."]

Once Bruce rounded the corner he saw a... familiar face on the screen.

A student play was being filmed, and the play itself was Alice in Wonderland.

Whereas Bruce didn't recognize the actor for Alice, he did recognize the actor for the Cheshire Cat, but couldn't quite put his finger on it...

Was... was that...?

"Y/n?" He whispered your name, voice barely above a whisper.

No, it couldn't be. You didn't participate in any plays, and surely if you did he would've known about it. Even then, that didn't explain why he was seeing this now. The play itself had to have been a recording, since you looked so young...

How long ago did this take place?

["Oh, wait! Don't go, please!"]

["Very well. Third chorus..."]

["Oh no, no, no... thank you, but- but I just wanted to ask you which way I ought to go."]

["Well, that depends on where you want to get to."]

["Oh, it really doesn't matter... as long as I g-"]

["Then it really doesn't matter which way you go! Ah-hmm.... and the momeraths outgrabe..."]

Bruce was staring so intensely at the screen that he hardly noticed how the lines and voices faded into the background. His focus centered on you, disbelief gnawing at the back of his head.

He had never seen you smile like that before, not during all the times he's seen you anyway. Even if those moments themselves were small and short from what he could remember, the smile you wore during your performance felt... new in a way. Like something he hadn't seen before — not on your face anyway. Though that wasn't the only thing that made Bruce feel weird as he watched the play.

It wasn't anything to do with your acting skills. They were fine for the most part — and honestly considering the age you probably were during the time of the play, they might've been above average, or even a little higher than that. Not even the girl who played Alice, who also did relatively well, was the source of this odd feeling.

It wasn't the costumes or the set up, or even the lighting, and how he could faintly see the silhouette of other actors and such just behind the curtain, because of the camera angle. No, it hardly had anything to do with anything like that, but, how should he put this...

... How come he didn't know about this? How come he wasn't aware of this play before? Let alone that they had a recording of it, and that you were even a part of it... but Bruce still felt bothered by this whole realization because, well.

Why didn't you tell him about this?

"Master Bruce?"

The sudden voice snapped Bruce out of whatever trance he was stuck in, as he whipped his head around to face the source of it.

He huffed softly, "Oh, hey Alfred." Bruce greeted calmly, acting as if the butler hadn't caught him off guard.

Alred couldn't help but raise a brow at that.

Almost in a silent, embarrassed way, Bruce glanced off to the side only to notice that the recording was still playing, and so he decided to ask about it. Since, if someone knew anything about anyone in this Manor, it would be Alfred.

"Say... what's this playing on the TV?"

"It's a recording of one of Master Y/n's plays, Master Bruce." Alfred answered simply, almost as if it was common knowledge. "Apologies if it's too loud, I decided to play it while cleaning. I can change it or turn it down if you'd like."

"No, no it's fine... but since when has Y/n acted in plays? I don't remember hearing about this." Bruce stated, confusion growing as another emotion began to swell in his chest. One he was all too familiar with, but ignored for the moment.

"Since middle school, if I recall correctly, but it was only while they were younger. Having only been in three school plays in total, I believe." Alfred moved closer to Bruce as he looked at the screen, eyes softening for a moment as he watched you move along the stage. You had grown up so much since then, and the stage fright you used to have felt like nothing more but a faint memory now.

You wouldn't believe how incredibly proud of you he is.

"It's a shame they didn't do any more afterwards, since it would've been nice to have a few more recordings of their performances, but I suppose that's what happens when you find a new passion." He looked back at Bruce. That previous softness in his gaze nowhere to be found.

There was a certain way how his eyes looked at the billionaire, as if expecting something. As if expecting this.

Alfred had higher hopes, but you had left for a reason. Even if he knew what that reason was, it was only now did he see it more clearly. Especially as he witnessed Bruce's face shift into one of shock and surprise.

"They've always told you, Master Bruce, but you're schedule has just always been too full." Alfred handed Bruce a piece of paper, and Bruce took it wordlessly, looking it over.

It was a flyer promoting a play — the Alice in Wonderland play that was still going in the background — with the dates and times listed below, along with some of the cast members. Your name stuck out like a sour thumb compared to the rest.

Bruce did remember seeing this before, but one thing did still confuse him as he looked back at Alfred.

"I'm pretty sure you gave this to me at the time, not Y/n."

"That I did, sir, but that was only because Master Y/n was having some trouble with catching you attention, because they had wanted to give you the flyer themself. So I offered to give it to you for them." Alfred replied truthfully, cleaning up a little more while he was at it, and leaving Bruce to his thoughts for the moment.

He didn't remember you trying to catch his attention... but if what Alfred says is true then that makes sense, even if it made Bruce feel bad in a way. The feeling growing a little more when he realized something Alfred had said.

"And this happened all three times?"

"You sound surprised, Master Bruce."

Bruce ran a hand through his hair, eyes pinned on the flyer as he pressed his pursed into a thin line. Countless thoughts floated around in his head, all of them jumbled up and messy as he just didn't know what to make of this. Missing one was probably fine, and maybe two at a push, but all three? How could he have missed every single one?

Sure he was busy, but he didn't think it was this bad. Did he just forget? How did he not notice such a thing had slipped right past him?

All Bruce could do was sigh. There was nothing he could do about it now, and even if there was a way to make it up to you, he didn't know where to start, or if that would change anything to begin with. Besides, he didn't even know how long it's been since these performances had happened.

...

Wait a minute-

"Alfred, how long ago was this?"

Alfred just looked at Bruce, brows just barely creased before he took a breath of his own.

"A few years ago, sir."

What?

At the look of disbelief on Bruce's face, Alfred could only stand and straighten himself out as he calmly asked, "How old do you think Master Y/n is, sir?"

"Oh, well, they're..."

... Bruce couldn't even think of an answer.

Obviously you had to be in highschool since it had been years since you've performed in a play, with the Alice in Wonderland play being one of them, but how old were you exactly? What year were you in? Were you a sophomore? Junior? Surely you weren't a freshman, but even then — what high school did you even go to? Bruce didn't think you were home schooled, or else he'd definitely notice that... or would he?

Oh no.

What if you already graduated? What if you already had gone and done something that not even Alfred knew about? Did you have a job? Where would you even work? Were you already in college? What college would you even go to? Did you manage to get a scholarship? What would be you major? Where would you be studying? Would you even stay in Gotham? Were you even old enough to be out on your own? Could you even drink yet? Could you drive? Did you own a car? Or even a motor bike? When was your birthday? Did it already pass? What's the month? The day? The year?

How old are you?

"I... I think I'm going to go and just check up on them." Bruce couldn't answer, and while he had a vauge idea. That's all it was, an idea. So he moved the subject along, and made his way up the stairs, leaving Alfred behind. Just watching as the world's greatest detective left the room, all because he couldn't figure out the age of one of his own kids. One he had chosen to take in and watch over like all the rest, and yet left behind all the same in the process.

Alfred could only sigh to himself as he paused the recording of the play. Ejecting the disc and putting it in its respective case, and placing it in its usual spot.

This was the only way, he decided. This was the only way.

--------------

Bruce didn't feel much better by the time he reached your room. It took him mistakenly stumbling into two guest rooms before he finally reached it, and honestly he felt more regret over that alone.

Most of this time he hardly remembered that the room before him now was even occupied, let alone that you had claimed it as yours. What didn't help was that it was only now that he remembered introducing this space as your own, and yet he had forgotten that small detail so quickly.

Regardless, Bruce just pushed that all to the side as he knocked on the door, taking in a breath.

"Y/n?" He called out, only to get no respose. So he tried knocking again, but he still got nothing.

Sure, he was getting a little confused, but just pushed that to the side with everything else, as he stared down at the door knob.

... Should he?

He had to talk with you eventually, especially considering what he just figured out and how little he actually knew about you. He needed to talk with you. He couldn't just let this slide, not with what he knew now. He couldn't. He wouldn't.

So, be tried the knob, and was kind of surprised that it was unlocked. Though besides that little strange detail, he gently pushed the door open, and took a peak inside.

Oh. You weren't even here...

Bruce didn't know how to feel about that.

Regardless of that, however, he opened up the door a little wider, and stepped inside. What he saw only made him more confused, but also feel so much worse when he looked all over the room. How could this be...?

Various things were on your desk, shelves, and hung on the walls. Your room looked surprisingly clean, but honestly Bruce doesn't know what he was expecting. After all, he didn't even know your exact age or hardly anything about you, and even then — by the looks of things, he had missed out on so much more than he originally thought.

Trophies, awards, medals, and certificates were littered about your room. The very sight of them made the paper in Bruce's hands feel so much heavier, and yet he still held onto it as he further inspected the awards, and few pictures hung on your walls.

Every color was here, from bronze to silver to gold, and at some point it seemed you were able to get a consistent amount of silvers and gold. The awards themselves were from various events and activities that barely corresponded with each other. From fencing to swimming, and dance to pottery. From track and field to literacy, and gymnastics to cooking.

It was like you had tried to do so much of everything, and were trying to collect all of these awards from all of these different activities, rather than earn them because you deserved it for all your hard work and dedication to do that particular activity, but Bruce just couldn't understand why. Why go through all of the effort just to move on to the next thing? It... didn't make sense.

Right next to you black belt for martial arts, you had hung up the few medals you had gotten from track, and right below that were some awards you had for gymnastics. Beside your soccer trophies you had some kind of art award, and beside that was more awards and things you had received from playing and participating in other sports and activities. Bruce had no idea you were even into some of these things, but just from looking at your room, he could tell you weren't all that into or interested in some of the activities you did. Seeing as some activities and such had more awards when compared to others, but one thing in particular seemed to really catch your interest.

Music.

Not only did you have a whole wall and section of your room dedicated to it, but it felt more organized, and the placement of awards and such seemed more thought out in a way.

Countless awards littered the wall, and from the placement alone he knew you were proud of them. The pictures hung on the wall showed you shaking someone's hand as you either held up an award or album cover. You smiled, and Bruce could see how genuine it was as he felt like he could feel your happiness radiate off the photo itself. The people you were shaking hands with looked pretty happy themselves, and Bruce was a little surprised that he recognized them, but that made him feel more conflicted.

The people in those photos with you, were famous, and you had gotten those opportunities to meet them and shake their hand all by yourself.

All of these awards — they were only the finishing products of what you had spent all of your time doing. They were only small glimpses into the person you truly were, and as Bruce looked at the records you had hung on the wall, he could feel his own regret spilling out of his bleeding heart.

He wish he was there with you.

He wish that he had been there to see you even get half of these rewards that you undoubtedly deserved. He wish he got to hear the music you played, and what kind of songs you wrote. He wish he had been there to see you go on, and work your way up, with him being there as your support, and yet...

He had missed everything.

From the plays, to the matches you had, to the games you played in and competitions you participated in, and how could he forget your performances that even earned you such big, important awards. Awards that probably meant so much to you, because of how far it showed you had grown.

Bruce missed it all. Every little thing.

... He had to find you.

No if's or but's this time. No more excuses. He had to find you. Bruce needed to.

So he did a more thorough search of your room. Finally placing the flyer down on your desk as he looked around. He checked your closet, your bed, even under the picture frames, and moved some of the awards around, in order to better check and search for anything. Any hint that could point to where you had gone, and or where you might be. Any clue, any thing that could tell him about you.

He even made sure to take a mental note of the people in the photos, just in case he had to reach out to them and ask if they knew where you were by some off chance. Though that was only if Bruce was convinced that you weren't even in the Manor, and getting some extra information on you never hurt anyway. Seeing as he had a lot of catching up to do.

As he searched, he ran into various things. From equipment, art pieces — most of which were unfinished — and old notes, to other random items. Like an airsoft gun, some glass beakers, various ties, a pair of shades, a glasses frame, and a sewing kit next to a first-aid kit? Bruce didn't want to think about how the first-aid kit both looked used, and was empty.

Bruce even stumbled upon a fancy looking tuxedo he didn't remember buying you at all, but a small tag caught his eye and-

Oh, it was a gift from someone else, and with the note you left behind the tag — most likely with the intention of giving the tuxedo back — it was safe to assume that you and this person knew each other quite well...

Bruce just put the tux back. He would've gotten you a better one anyway if you had just asked, or if he even knew you needed one in the first place. Though regardless of that, he kept looking.

Eventually, he looked under your bed, and found a single box under there. Undisturbed... sitting innocently in the darkness.

Bruce didn't waste much time as he reached out and grabbed it, and placed it on your bed. There was a thin layer of dust on top of it, which Bruce found a little strange but kept in mind as he opened the box and looked inside. There, he saw a variety of notebooks and papers, and from the looks of things, the items in here had been collecting a bit of dust too...

When was the last time you touched these?

It seemed a little strange that these were tucked away from everything else, and clearly you didn't want other people going through it or even seeing them since you kept it so out of view. Were they diaries? Bruce would rather learn anything personal about you from yourself, he didn't want to go through your things like this, but considering the situation...

He sighed, and just picked up a random notebook. If this could help him find you, then so be it. He didn't want to do this but he couldn't leave you alone either. Not again.

Yet, he was so focused on looking through your things that he didn't even realize that someone had passed by, and noticed the odd room Bruce was in. A room that they themselves haven't seen before.

"Woah, what's this place? An old childhood room or something?" Dick asked as he invited himself into the room, mindlessly looking around, not really paying attention to anything in particular as he waltzed around.

"It's Y/n's room." Bruce stated bluntly, still looking over the dusty notebooks in the box. Some simply labeled 'Notes' or 'Practice', while one in particular was called 'Ideas/List & Progress' with little drawn sparkles around it. Another two weren't labeled with titles or words, and instead with small music notes doodled onto the cover in your favorite color. Though Bruce didn't know the color was your favorite.

Nevertheless, Bruce decided to look through one of the notebooks with music notes on it, completely missing how Dick had froze, and turned to look at him as if he was crazy.

"What? You've got to be kidding, right?" Bruce just gestured to one of the records on the wall, flipping through the notebook in his hand as he read through it quickly but carefully.

Dick, still not entirely convinced and honestly just really confused, looked at one of the records Bruce had gestured towards, and felt like he had just gotten ran over by a truck with how hard reality hit him. There your name was, signed and everything, with a well-known producer listened as well.

His eyes even darted to the other records, only to find the same thing, and for just one final check, he looked at one of the awards on the wall.

Your name was engraved on it.

"Holy-" He covered his mouth, more than shocked as he looked around the room again, hand falling from his face, "but that means-" Now Dick was paying more attention to the room, moving from one thing to another as he looked over everything now.

"How did they- there's no way they did all of this? And- what. They even did gymnastics?!" To say that Dick was in absolute disbelief and shock was an understatement. Yet he hardly had any time to recover or process anything as another person popped into the room, albeit only temporarily.

"I'm afraid it is quite possible, Master Dick." Alfred spoke up, catching the attention of the oldest sibling as he moved into the room, and set a stack of papers on your desk, right next to the flyer Bruce had set down.

Confused and curious, Dick looked at the stack once Alfred had pulled away from it, and picked up the first paper.

It was another flyer, but this time for some kind of solo event or concert you'd be doing. The date written down was a few days ago... a week or so having already passed since then, but how could this be?

Dick hesitated, but took another one as he looked it over. Again, it was for some kind of concert or performance, but the date and time was further away. Three weeks to a month having passed since, but how did they not notice? Didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell them?

"This doesn't make any sense... why didn't Y/n tell us about any of these things?" He asked, mostly to himself as he continued to look through the various flyers.

"Why don't you tell me, Master Dick?" Alfred quipped, looking at Dick in a knowing way before stepping out of the room, "Now, I'll be heading off, but I do trust that both of you make the right choice this time around." With that, he simply left. Leaving Dick confused but feeling worse at the same time as he looked back at the flyers, mind racing until he spotted something.

Carfully, Dick pulled out another flyer out of the pile as he placed the others to the side. He recognized this one, but where had he seen it before? Was it...

... Oh god.

Dick whipped out his phone and checked his messages. He had to scroll down a bit, but he quickly found your contact and tapped on it. He flipped through your messages, hundreds upon thousands of which he never responded to, and even if that alone made he feel bad. When he found what he was looking for, he felt even worse.

He found a message of you sending him a photo of the flyer, and said how you hoped you'd see him there. The message itself had been sent almost a year ago, and as he looked back at the flyer, he didn't know how to feel. Yet he kept looking, especially as he spotted another familiar poster.

Some of them he was able to connect back to another message you had sent, and the further back he went the more he responded... but it wasn't much, and he seemed to leave you on read more times than not. He had made an effort, but clearly it wasn't enough.

Dick couldn't imagine how that must've felt for you, and he almost didn't want to. Yet he still continued to search through the flyers, and came across one he had an odd memory of. He did remember seeing a text for it, but also remembered hearing about it somehow? He wasn't too sure, but just incase he did decide to look through his voicemail. He didn't know what he'd find, but he decided to just have a little look, even if he wasn't sure he'd even find anything.

So, he matched the date of the message and scrolled until he found it.

The voicemail innocently stared at him, and Dick couldn't help but hesitate before he tapped on it, and let it play. Heart already heavy as he stared down at the flyer. The kind of look someone gave when they already knew it was too late, and Dick didn't know what was worse. The fact that he basically missed out on your entire life at this point, or that he had nothing to say for it besides that he was sorry, and had just forgotten about these things one too many times.

["Hey, Dick! I, um, I hope everything is going well and that patrol hasn't been too bad." Your voice wavered as you spoke. You were clearly nervous but you tried to push on anyway, and cleared your throat before you tried again.]

["How are you, though? I heard that you had a rough night the other day- and I know I'm not really into all this crime-fighting stuff like everyone else but... I just hope you're okay, y'know?" You chuckled nervously before you cleared your throat again, "An-anyway, um, yeah. I just- hope you're okay." The sound of a paper being fiddled with could be heard, and you took in a small breath.]

["So... I have this performance I'll be doing next Saturday- it's more of a competition really, since other musicians and stuff will be there too. It's at 7 o'clock, and I know you guys mostly work at night and everything- but if you could drop by or even just quickly come around at 8:15 that would be great! Since, um, that's when I'll be performing..."]

Dick looked at awards you hung on the wall as the voicemall continued to play. Based on the date of the performance he was able to find the award. You had gotten second place.

["It's um, it's a piece I wrote that's a tribute to your family- the Flying Graysons, that is, since we're allowed to play songs we wrote if they were approved beforehand, and it was! So, um, I really hope you don't mind. Your family is cool! Not that Bruce and everyone else isn't or anything- um, I'm going to stop talking about that before I say something stupid. But! I couldn't help but feel inspired so I, y'know-" you cleared your throat again. Clearly nervous.]

["Sorry for my rambling- but, yeah. You can pass by if you want or have the time, and it's right by that one place Bruce had that whole charity announcement on Monday. You can't miss it, there will be lights and all this other stuff- not to mention that it'll probably be loud considering things, but uh, yeah."]

["So if you think you can make it or pass by, it's at 7! Next Saturday! And if you can't make it by then, I play at 8:15! So, yeah. Remember that! If- if you want to. Hope to see you there! And if I don't, that's okay. I just hope you enjoy the piece if you hear it. Have a good night! Or-! Or day! Whenever you listen this- um, bye!"]

What? You had wrote a song for him? For his parents? For them?

Dick's heart swelled. He didn't even get to hear it either, he wasn't able to. He didn't have time, and he forgot, but that didn't make things better, did it?

You had gone through all of that effort, and not only made a song for him but even played it during a competition and got second place. Yet he couldn't even put a few minutes to the side to listen to it. He didn't.

Now Dick definitely felt awful.

However, he did notice that there was another voicemail left by you just a few minutes after the last one. So, he decided to play that too before his guilt and regret could fully settle in, as if it'd make him feel better somehow.

["8:45! IT'S 8:45! THAT'S WHEN I PLAY! NOT- Not 8:15, sorry! I mixed up the times- that's when a friend of mine plays, not me! Sorry! Uh, but yeah. I play at 8:45- stop by if you can! I hope to see you then! Buh-bye!"]

Okay, well, Dick officially felt worse now. So much worse.

You had all this character and personality, and yet he was never able to fully see it — to hear it like he has now. Not like this, not while he was paying attention.

Your voice was so much different than what he remembered, and despite your nerves you really tried to tell him because you hoped he'd be there. You tried to tell him in hopes he'd actually show up, and he never did. Even as he listened to your other voice messages, he could hear how his own actions, or lack thereof, were affecting you.

The messages grew shorter, more to the point, and while you did still sound enthusiastic — it's like he could hear the hope dying in your voice. The hope that'd he show up. That any effort would be made, but that didn't happen, and it didn't help that Dick was listening to some of the voicemails he was going through right now, for the first time.

He could only imagine the pain he caused you, and Bruce was thinking the same thing.

Bruce was still looking through your notebooks as Dick was regretting everything he had done to you in the past.

The notebook Bruce was reading now was one where you had written down majority of your more recent song ideas, along with things you wanted to try and melodies you were trying to mix together. It was mostly full of lyrics and small notes to yourself about certain things you wanted to keep in mind, and though there was a lot of things crossed out, Bruce couldn't help but be... charmed in a strange way.

How you talked to yourself was adorable, and seeing your excitement for your own performances and such through each word you wrote, just made Bruce feel so happy for you. He could almost picture your smile and how giddy you felt when you were writing some of these things down, or how focused you were when trying to figure out how to continue the chorus of a song you were making — or if there should even be lyrics to begin with. Along with how you wanted the song itself to sound, and what emotions you wanted to capture in it.

With each page turned it's like he could see the entire process you went through when it came to your song composition. Like he was almost there with you in the moment, watching you do your thing, and honestly? Just by that alone he couldn't help but grow... softer.

Bruce loved seeing how your mind worked when it came to music, and your thought process behind each and every little thing. He just... he felt like through each line and little note he read and looked over, he was falling in love. The kind of love that he couldn't quite describe, besides just the love only a father could feel when they really see their child for who they are for the first time. The kind of love Bruce hadn't felt in a long while, nor this intensely.

You were so creative and passionate, so driven to achieve your dream and do what you loved. You were just so... you, and there was just something about the way you expressed that in the notebook that felt charming. The deeper Bruce got into the notebook, the harder it was to not love you, and each time he saw one of your little notes, he could feel himself smiling. You were so precious, how could he not see that before?

Though, besides all of that, he did notice a small pattern.

Every performance you had, you mentioned in the notebook and would express your feelings about it, and every time you did — you'd write something beneath it. Just a small paragraph about certain hopes you had. Hopes that made Bruce's heart squeeze tighter.

It was you hoping that they'd get to see you perform, that they'd show up, and suddenly Bruce was reminded of why he was doing this in the first place. So, he started to flip through your book, shaking out of whatever trance he was in.

With each performance that passed, the little paragraph got shorter, smaller, simpler. Like a quiet prayer that was dying down, as the believer slowly lost their hope and faith. It even came to a point where only one sentence was written for a while.

"I hope I see one of them."

Bruce's heart broke a little more each and every time he saw it, but the page that really got to him was when the sentence was smudged, small wrinkles and creases were on the page, and you couldn’t even finish writing the sentence as the end of the 'e' in 'them' dragged out.

What didn't help was when he flipped a few more pages, and found the last performance you had written about. It was a few months ago, but the date didn't immediately catch Bruce's eye. No, no, no, what caught his attention at first was the change of that single sentence.

"I hope the audience enjoys it."

His heart shattered at that, smile fading as he took in a breath. A moment passed, with Bruce just stating at the writing. Wishing for the impossible, and to change things that had already been done. It was too late, but he somehow refused to believe that now.

Finally, he noticed the date and paused.

That... couldn't be right. You used to write in this notebook all the time from what he could tell, why did you stop? Did something happen that day?

If months really have passed... then that would explain all the dust on the box and contents within it, but still, it didn't make sense. Weren't you still here in the Manor? Bruce honestly couldn't think of why'd you would stop writing unless you somehow couldn't reach the notebook, but you couldn’t have left, right? Surely, above everything else, he would've notice that, right?

...

Bruce finally looked at Dick, seeing the oldest just staring at old flyers from various events and such you had participated in throughout your life. A life they never got to see.

"When was Y/n's last performance?" He asked bluntly, getting straight to the point.

Dick glanced at Bruce for a moment before looking back down at your desk. He moved some of the papers around before he found the most recent one and looked over to his father with a raised brow.

"About a week ago, why?"

Bruce looked back down at the notebook in his hand, eyes scanning over the date again before he closed it. Looking back at Dick, he asked another question.

"Have you seen Y/n around?"

Dick grew quiet at that, and after a moment he just sighed and shook his head.

"No, I can't say I have." It was only then did he catch what Bruce may have been thinking, "You don't think they-"

"It's a possibility. We can't be too sure just yet," Bruce just wanted to hold onto his hope that you were still here, and even if the chance was small he was willing to take it. He didn't want to believe that they had pushed you so far away that you would not only consider leaving, but actually went ahead and did it. He wanted to be doubtful, but he couldn't rule out anything. Not yet.

"Just keep looking, I'll go ask the others." Bruce stated as he placed the notebook back in the box and headed out the room.

"Keep looking? For what?! Other events we missed? More ways we ignored them? Things they did without us?!"

To say Dick's guilt was eating away at him would be an understatement. It was practically devouring him at this point, and he could just barely take it.

Bruce paused at the doorframe, sighing as he looked back at Dick, "Any hints or clues to where they could be. Favorite spots they might frequent, places where their lessons were held, people they know, anything." He left him with that, causing Dick to just run a stressed hand through his hair as he took a breath.

Worry and regret heavily weighed down on him, but all he could do was carry it for now. He'd make it up to you somehow. He would, and he'd finally get to hear that song one way or another.

As Dick started his search, so did Bruce.

Bruce did a general search around the house, looking for anyone he came across while also trying to look for you. He thought that if he was lucky, he'd run into you. Even if the possibility was small, it could still happen — or he hoped so anyway.

Just this once, Bruce really hoped for the best.

Though, he did end up running into someone, even if it wasn't who he was looking for.

"Woah, someone looks serious. What's got your bat panties in a twist?" Jason asked, amused, "Actually, wait, don't tell me. I don't c-"

"Have you seen Y/n?" Bruce cut Jason off, getting straight to the point.

The sudden question confused Jason as he gave Bruce a weird look, some of his amusment still remaining but it began to die down a bit.

"No... why?"

Bruce took a breath, fingers twitching, "Do you know where they could be?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Jason's own confusion began to take over, his amusement continuing to die down, "Seriously, did something happen? Why are you suddenly looking for them?"

Bruce took a moment, just looking at Jason before he sighed.

"When was the last time you saw them?"

"... A few days ago..." Jason glanced off to the side.

"Jason."

"Okay, okay! Fine. I don't fucking know! A few weeks ago? Maybe?!" He answered, getting agitated already. "I'm barely here enough as it is, how am I supposed to know where they are!"

Again, Bruce took in another breath, but there was something about it that Jason didn't like. Maybe he inhaled too sharply or deeply — Jason wasn't sure, but all he knew was that he wasn't going to like what Bruce was about to say.

"Dick hasn't seen them either."

"And that's supposed to be a surprise, how? He lives all the way in Bludhaven, of course he isn't going to see Y/n. 'Cause they live here-"

"I haven't seen them."

"..." That was a little more surprising, but just a little more. It still couldn’t mean anything... right?

"With all the shit you do, I would be surprised if you even saw them on a semi-regular basis." Jason crossed his arms, still not convinced — not entirely anyway. Yet Bruce could only exhale softly, the action bothering Jason even more.

"It's just a possibility. I'm trying to find them. Think you can help out?" Bruce clarified before asking. Additional help would definitely be great, especially because it meant that they could find you faster. He could find you faster.

"What makes you think I'm gonna do that?"

"Did know that Y/n wrote a song that's a tributed to you?"

"... What."

Bruce sighed, "You don't have to do it because I asked you to, or even because I want to find them. You can do it for yourself, Jason. But I'll leave that decision to you." Then, he just walked off to continue his search for you, and the other occupants of the Manor. Leaving Jason by himself, alone...

"That bitch-" Jason cursed under his breath as he walked off, deciding that he'll help look. Though only so he could ask you if Bruce was bullshiting him or not, and not for any other reason...

... Wait, you wrote songs? Like, actually?

Jason just shook his head, already upset enough as he shoved the thought to the side. When he found you he could ask, and how hard could that be? The Manor was only so big, and besides, you were just one person. He could probably find you before Bruce if he just looked in the right places, but the only thing now was finding those places...

Okay, so maybe he saw the problem, but still. This couldn't be too hard. You were the only one in the whole family who wasn't a vigilante, and so it was only about a matter of time.

Nevertheless, Jason began looking around as well, trying to figure out where he should look as he mindlessly checked every other room he came across. Where would you even go anyway? He'd probably check your room first but he figured that Bruce had already checked there, and it wasn't like Jason knew where your room even was. Though he just chalked that up to how infrequent his incredibly short visits were.

Still, he didn't even know where to start, and would rather avoid searching the entire Manor if he could. He tried to scratch his brain for anything but he just... had no idea.

Well, okay, he had one idea, but that was only because of one night. Even then he's still not sure it was you who he saw on the-

["Master Y/n? Are you alright?"]

Jason's thought process was cut off by a sudden voice. He immediately recognized it as Alfred's, and a realization hit him. Right! He should look for Alfred first, he'd know where you are. Alfred practically knew everything about everyone in the Manor, so he'd lnow something for sure.

So, he followed the sound until he stood in the doorway of one of the lounges. The television was on and playing some kind of recording, but Jason paid no mind to it.

Confused, Jason called out, "Alfred?"

When he didn't receive a response, he huffed as his eyes drifted to the television. What was playing, anyway?

You — a smaller, younger version of you — stood in a door way, looking out in the hall before turning back to the camera. Big, innocent eyes looking up. Looking at Jason.

You couldn't have been no older than eight or nine.

[You gave a little nod with a small hum, "I'm okay, Alfred. Just... waiting, like you said."]

A small, soft huff could be heard from the other end of the camera, and the camera moved to be placed down a counter of some kind. Which revealed Alfred to be the one having been recording everything so far.

["Yes, well. How about we do a little something while we wait, hm?" Alfred asked, moving a stool closer to the counter — moving the camera again to be placed on the kitchen isle this time.]

Ingredients and tools used for baking could be seem on the counter. The stool Alfred had place was next to where he was standing, and a good distance away from the stove.

[You looked at Alfred curiously, "What are we going to do?"]

["Oh, nothing too much, Master Y/n. But... I do require a bit of assistance baking this cake, that is if you'd like to help, of course." Alfred patted the top of the stool as he spoke, "Though you can always just watch, if you'd like."]

[You perked up at what Alfred said, climbing up onto the stool enthusiastically with a smile. "I wanna help!" You exclaimed, looking over the ingredients before looking back at Alfred, "But... what cake are we making?"]

[Alfred hummed, pretending to think before be looked back down at you, "Well, what kind of cake would you like, Master Y/n? It is your birthday after all."]

["Really?" When Alfred nodded, you gasped excitedly before suggesting your favorite flavor at the time.]

["Well then, let's get started, shall we?"]

From there, the rest of the recording was of you and Alfred baking. With Alfred helping you when he had to, and laughing lightly when you would inevitably make a mess.

Laughs and jokes were exchanged, and it was probably the happiest Jason has ever seen you... which made him feel weird in a way. He didn't like it, not one bit, and yet he continued to watch the old, wholesome memory play out before him.

Jason watched as you got a bit of flour on your nose and how Alfred wiped it off. He watched as while Alfred was deciding on the shape of the cake, you gathered all the different colors and types of sprinkles you could find, and was looking at a particular color of food coloring. How you nearly fell trying to grab the food coloring, and how Alfred just narrowly managed to catch you. How after that, Alfred visibly recovered from the near heart attack he had gotten from watching you fall, and just watched you add the food coloring to the frosting after you had thanked him for catching you, and apologized for falling.

... It got Jason thinking, if only a little bit.

He didn't know much about you, not really anyway. Even if his visits were few and far inbetween, not to mention incredibly short, someone would think that he'd catch onto a few things about you, or just generally have more interactions with you, but he didn't. All he really knew was that you knew how to play the violin really well, but that was assuming that who he saw that night really was you. Even if he doesn't know who else it'd be.

Jason still remembered that one occurrence despite how long it's been since then... but that was for a different time. He had to focus now, but he still couldn't help but watch the little version of you trying to frost the cake without being too messy, but failing miserably.

It did get him thinking about how many small moments he had missed with you, and just... how little time he had actually spent around you.

Obviously, you weren't a little kid anymore. After all, the last time he remembered seeing you — you were already a teenager. Though was that really a good thing? Jason did remember having some kind of interaction with you in the past... but it wasn't much of anything, and even then he probably forgot half of those moments. What definitely didn't help is that you both didn't have each other's phone numbers, and the only form of communication you had was seeing each other in person.

.... Okay, maybe this whole 'finding you' thing was definitely a lot harder than Jason had originally thought.

["... Are they going to come, Alfred?" You asked, sitting in front of the cake you and Alfred had just made together, looking up at the camera that Alfred was holding once again.]

[Alfred didn't respond right away, but did eventually say, "I'm afraid not, Master Y/n, but if you'd like we could wait a little longer."]

[You shook your head, looking at the cake before looking back at the camera, "It's okay. We can blow out the candles now, but..." you hesitated, looking down at the table, "could you... stay with me? Please?" You looked away, embrassed for asking but didn't take back what you said.]

[Again, a soft huff came from the other end of the camera. "Of course, Master Y/n."]

After a short happy birthday song, the camera was placed down on the table as Alfred cut the cake. It was only after Alfred had given both you and himself a slice did the footage cut out.

Nothing could describe the face you made when Alfred said that no one was coming. Just like how Jason couldn't even begin to describe what it made him feel.

Even when a new recording started, he could hardly pay attention to it as all he saw was your face staring up at the camera. Expression not necessarily sad or upset, but it was easily the most heartbreaking thing Jason had ever seen. A kid shouldn't have a face like that. You shouldn't have a face like that.

Jason was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even notice Cassandra trying to get his attention, nor did he feel her even pull on his sleeve. All he could think of was you, sitting at that table all by yourself. Alone.

He just turned the other way, practically stomping down the hall as he looked straight ahead, glaring.

He had to find you. Now.

Cass, on the other hand, was just confused. Watching as Jason stormed off before looking back at the recording that was playing on the television. What about it had made Jason sp upset? She didn't know, but she was a bit curious.

Bruce had already confronted her and asked her where you were, and of course she didn't know either. He did mention something about how Damian was trying to help a little, which was a surprise in itself, and how Jason might be trying to search for you too, and had asked her if she could do the same. She agreed, of course, just wanting to help out, but having run into Jason just now? That was... odd. Especially when he suddenly stormed off like that, but that wasn't her main focus right now. She still had to-

["Are you still trying to record this, Alfred?"]

Wait... was that your voice?

Cassandra turned back to the television, only to see the camera pointed towards the floor.

["Of course, Master Y/n. Just give me one moment, I almost have the camera set up."]

Oh, Alfred was there too? What was going on?

[Light laughter was heard before you spoke again, "Here, let me help you."]

The camera began to move, and as it paned up, there you were. A soft smile on your face, shining colored hues looking at the camera as you made a few more adjustments before stepping away.

Now, you definitely looked like a teenager or young adult. Voice more matured and settled, almost calm in a way.

["There. That should be good, what do you think?" You asked Alfred, tilting your head to the side a bit, most likely looking at the butler.]

["I have to agree, Master Y/n. Everything should be working properly." Alfred then came into frame, moving towards the counter as you moved around the kitchen isle to follow him. "Now, what is it that you wanted to make this year?"]

["Oh! Right, well..." and you told him, already grabbing a few necessarily ingredients from around the kitchen.]

It wasn't long before the two of you started baking again, but this time around you were clearly more experienced than your younger self — not that Cass was aware of that anyway. You both did your own parts, working exceedingly well together as the conversation between the two of you was nothing but natural.

Cass never saw you talk so naturally, or even knew you could bake, but there were a lot of things she didn't know about you.

She could see that in the footage, you were really relaxed and happy. Almost at ease as you skillfully moved about, as if knowing the necessary steps to make what you were hoping to bake by heart, and how you navigated the kitchen made it look as if you almost knew it as well as Alfred did. It was almost refreshing to see you just be so... in tune with your surroundings, and Cass almost wished she had been there to see you bake for herself. Though she could settle watching footage of you bake for now.

Even if she didn't know why you were even baking in the first place until Alfred mentioned something about a gift for your Birthday, and how that led you to talking about some of the things your friends had given you.

This was... your birthday? Just you and Alfred?

That didn't feel right... but then again, she didn't even know when your birthday was to begin with — and now that she thinks about, had you ever celebrated Christmas with everyone? As a whole family?

... She wasn't sure.

["Are you certain that you don't want to wait, Master Y/n? You never know, someone could show up this time." Alfred asked, looking at you with slight concern.]

[You only smiled, "I'm sure. Besides, even if any of them did come, we both know that it'd be on accident." You laughed lightly to yourself, looking down at the pastry both you and Alfred had made together. "I doubt they even know when my birthday is, but that's okay." You looked back at Alfred, your smile still happy but... there was something off with it.]

["I've told you before, haven't I? You're all the company I need in this house. I'm happy just spending my birthdays like this with you." You took a piece of the pastry and ripped it off before holding it in the air, as if doing a toast, and held it toward Alfred. "So, happy birthday to me?"]

[Alfred sighed softly, but could only smile as he took his own piece of the pastry, copying your actions as he held the piece toward you, "Happy birthday, Master Y/n."]

The footage cut right after, and suddenly Cass found herself in a similar position that Jason had been in just a few moments ago. Just staring at the screen, unsure what to do with this new information, the weight on her chest growing.

Had you really spent every birthday like that? If so... then why didn't you tell anyone? Or had you tried, only for nothing to come of it?

The thought alone hurt, strangely enough, and all Cass wanted to do was... well. She wasn't sure.

She wanted to do so many things, and yet she didn't know if anything would work. Or if anything she could do would fix... well, anything at all.

She wanted to try your baking and... and celebrate a birthday with you. Or maybe she just felt obligated to do so after having seen the recording, but a big part of her did mean it. Especially because she didn't want you to feel alone or anything ever again, not after seeing the extent it went to. Though perhaps there was some irony in that thought that Cass failed to realize.

Regardless, Cass found herself walking off too. Completely missing the figure who turned off the television, and unplugged the camera from it that held all of the footage both her and Jason were shown.

Cass was practically speed walking as she checked the library — remembering have seen glimpses of you in there before — while Jason checked the music room, only for both to turn up equally empty. Yet they kept looking. Everyone did.

Dick tried calling and texting you while trying to see if there was anywhere you could be outside of the Manor. Tim ended up helping as he ran into Dick, and was basically locating and tracking down all the places you've been to with the help of your notebooks and awards in your room. All the while listening to some very earlier pieces you've wrote and played on the mp3 player he found in your box.

Bruce was still looking all over the Manor for you, each minute that passed making him more paranoid and worried. What started as a small possibility was growing into a certainty and he did not enjoy that at all. Damian had decided to search for Alfred, since it seemed like the smartest choice if they wanted to end this quickly. Yet when he did find Alfred and asked him where you were, it turned out that Alfred didn't know where you were either.

While yes, he did know some of the teachers and coaches you've had in the past, he didn't know where you were at this exact moment. How could that be? It was simple, really.

Alfred hadn't seen you in a while either, and once that little piece of information spread around the family... what followed after could only be described as chaos.

The Manor was practically flipped upside down as Bruce, Damian, Jason, and Cass searched for you. Not a single room went unchecked, and when they still came out empty handed, their own worries began to fuel each others.

Dick was the first one to suit up and head out, already calling Barbara as night fell on Gotham, with Tim beginning to suit up — yet Jason had beat him to the punch and was out the second the Manor was cleared. Cass was next to follow, with Bruce and Damian not following too far behind. Tim only left after informing Stephanie — and after downloading some of your songs — and telling Alfred to keep a look out just in case you came back home.

In just a few hours, what started as an unusually uneventful and calm, quiet day for the family, quickly turned into one of the most panicked induced searches and painful night of their lives.

All because of you.

---------

You were tuning your guitar calmly, tapping your foot to the melody playing in your head as you hummed. The silence surrounding you was peaceful for a chance, and didn't feel suffocating or as unnerving as the silence in the Manor did.

Honestly, it took a bit of getting used to but after a few weeks you had grown to love it. Waking up everyday and having someone there to not only greet you, but actually acknowledge you also took a bit of getting used to, but you managed much more easily with that.

Sure, there were other things as well, but you eased into it and had come to accept these small things as just parts of your new life. Yet, you still found yourself appreciating and noticing the smallest things, and almost crying over them too.

It had been a few months since you had left the Manor, and honestly you couldn't be happier.

You now shared an apartment with one of your closets friends, and your career helped you cover your half of the rent, as well as other expenses. You had truly found comfort with this new lifestyle, and even if you'd like to move out of Gotham one day — you could settle for this for now.

This, you believed, was what peace truly felt like.

Even when your phone started to go off like crazy — you just took one look at who it was and rolled your eyes, putting your phone on silent as you placed it face down on the table in front of you. You didn't know what Dick and Tim needed so badly, but you were sure they'd be able to figure it out themselves. After all, they were the sons of the world's greatest detective, right? They could handle themselves.

So you just leaned back into your couch, sighing softly as you mindlessly strummed away at your guitar, smiling a little to yourself when the tune was just right. Creating a melody came all too naturally to you, and all you did was carry it on — humming softly as countless ideas filled your head. A small song beginning to form, even if unintentionally.

A song that went on — with the suffering of Gotham going on in the background. The city being cleared out and searched by the vigilantes that dared to protect it, all of it being done just to look for one person. You.

The shouts and screams served as the base, with the shattering of glass and bones being the lower kick, perhaps. The heart beat serving as the tempo, and so on.

So, just as you had years ago, you played on. Calm and happy in your own little world, unaware of the horrors to come — and destruction being made in your name.

–––––

Well, that's long, isn't it?

Might be making a another post that kind of details what some of the others did before everything went to hell? We'll see. Maybe.

Sorry again for any mistakes, especially towards the halfway point/end there.

[reveluving]

batfam + batmom + hugs 💗

warnings: pure fluff! (I just wanna give hugsss)

check out my batmom m.list!

your face squished against bruce's greek god pecs before melting his heart when you arms can barely accommodate his sheer size and with your pretty sparkly eyes as you shyly look up at him. not finding it enough, he gently tilts your head up by the chin to return your gaze

having a literal competition on who hugs the best between you and dick—he always says that your hugs are equivalent to your best-selling cookies

jason stopping by the manor and immediately giving you a hug, relishing in the comfortable silence and his mother's presence after a rough night

kneeling next to tim's seat before wrapping your arms around his tired frame, hoping to convince him to turn in for the night. you know he finally gives in when he leans in your hold

returning duke's hug with a tighter one despite getting caught off guard, but then getting over it when you feel his body tremble and tears staining your shirt

unable to resist squishing your cheek against cass' when she comes up to you without a word, only to open her arms in anticipation for a big ol' mother-daughter hug

damian not only tolerating your sudden need for hugs, but embracing it as well, which some would find the sight funny, for you would emit an aura of flowers and bubbles while his comprises daggers and death and yet, he returns your hugs with zero shame

giving steph a bear hug just after you returned cass', finding amusement in the former's pout for she, too, wants to be attacked by your motherly affections as well

terry glaring at his classmates who either whisper to their buddies about wanting a hug from you too or openly ogle at you—if the family heard about this, it's over for these idiots

giggling with matt as you swoop him up for a hug and twirling with him in your arms, filling the manor with the sounds of your joy—bonus if ace and titus joins your fun, running in circles and barking in excitement

babs comforting you by letting you hold her tight after finally being able to get ahold of family who's out patrolling after a heart-stopping moment when the connection somehow gets lost

alfred celebrating yet another milestone as your café reaches the targeted earning with you, always honoured to be a part of your life, for you have not only saved his, but the entire family in general

kate greeting you with a hug whenever she's invited for a big family dinner/holiday, always jokingly thanking you for keeping the family and especially her cousin in check

always making the mistake of kneeling whenever ace and titus runs up to you before falling onto your back when they literally jump into your arms, giggling as they lick your face as an apology

nuzzling your face into alfred the cat's soft fur as he purrs and curls in your arms, his tail swishing in annoyance if anyone tries to pry him off you

overall: batmom's hugs are a 12/10, would recommend 🤌🏻

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🦇 ݁˖ ݁𖥔 . |Webs And All|.𖥔 ݁ ˖🦇 ݁˖ ݁𖥔 .

《When a Spider falls into a new world, she didn't expect it to be so.. "Batty" than the others she's been in.》

-

Hurriedly swinging on rooftops and walls, you gaze in awe of the night sky. Warmth filling your body as the night air floats on your suit. Taking in the night sky...

Before smog and gas cover it as you jump down on the roof top. Pouting at the loss of the clear sky as you frown.

"I forget how polluted this city is.." You grumble, going to the ledge as you place your arms on the railing. Gazing down at the city lights and billboards.

Blinking innocently at one of the paid advertisments, you squint at it curiously.

"Wayne Enter.. Prizes? Technology.." You giggle at the guy on the board. His charming smile and flirty wink was not something you've seen often for an ad for tech.

Well...

You start re-calling a few worlds that did, but with a another billionare..

"Hmm, well. That's enough day-dreaming!" You shake your body, wanting to get your jitters out before taking a deep breath... Shooting out one of your webs to a near by ledge as you run and jump off.

Feeling your body pulled downwards, you pull your web as you glide through the air. Twirling slightly as you smile underneat your mask. Laughing once more as you swing forward.

..Let's do things differently this time.

Your name is (Y/N) (L/N), you were bitten by a radioactive spider..

Yet you weren't the only one.

But now.. Your on your own, though you weren't the only one.

With a fleeting glance at you, the supposed.. Dark Knight: pays you no mind. Eagerly taking down villians left and right, as the two of you finish them off together.

You were supposed to be back at HQ.

Things didn't go as planned.

You made it work, with this "new" life of yours.

Stumbling over your shoes in a hurry, you place down the box of donuts on the big fancy board meeting table. Glad that the stairwell was open, sighing in relief, you miss the eyes that watched you leave the building. While you headed to your next job!

In this Au, Spider!(Y/N) is a temp-worker and delivery girl. Just an odd young gal doing jobs around Gotham, ordinary and sweet.

She has a multiverse-watch, handmade specifcally for her by Miguel. Being one of his first recruits to the Spider Society, yet with the new Multiverse-Canon she's stuck in, the watch forms within her body to make it more acceptable to deal within the world.

Due to this, she doesn't "glitch" is the best term

"Welcome! Lord Hades!" The man dressed in a toga greeted cheerfully. You squint in confusion. Glancing at your companion as you walked closer to his side.

"Ah.. And fair Persephone, it seems you've taken form as garden spider. How quaint!" He spoke jovially as he held out a golden goblet to the two of you.

"Be serious Max! That's Batman and-"

"But Batman is a mere mortal! And what mortal has reached the summit of Olympus and survied!" Placing a hand on Batman's shoulder, the man gestured to his cup.

"Come! Brother! Unveil yourself and your bride in the nectar of the gods!"

-Batman The Animated Series 1992 Ep: Fire From Olympus

Spider!(Y/N) doesn't know Batman's idenitiy, and funny enough. He doesn't know hers, in the beginning. I'd like to think maybe down the line there's a possibility! I just think it's silly-er.

I'd like to think the dynamic between the two is Batman served as a comedic foil to Spider!(Y/N). Sorta, "brooding guy-and happy guy". Also, I like to point out, they can both can be silly in their own ways!

Just them figuring it out with Batman is hilarious in itself.

Biting into the dish, you beam in joy! It tasted so sweet! And.. Tangy, with a bit of sour. Invested with the tasty dish, you fail to notice the striking blue eyes glancing at you from a distance. Naively standing alone in your waiter uniform as you nibble on the treat.

"Ah, Mister Wayne, good to see you." Jim Gordon, dressed outside of his usual detective get-up greets. Flattening down his suit before grabbing one of the fancy champange glasses from one of the servers.

"Oh, Commissioner!" He spoke in suprise, greeting him as the two started to chat. "-And there it was... Mister Freeze and that giant lizzard."

"Dinosur." Gordan corrected.

"Whatever, doesn't make any sense. What does Victor Freeze gain by destroying a bunch of bones?" The billionare huffed.

"That's the question alright, I wish I had the answer." The Commissioner sighed, brows lowering in thought.

-Batman The New Animated Adventures 1994 Ep: Cold Comfort

-

[This was a small personal project for me, I had this idea since Into the Spiderverse! I would honestly love some feedback for this! I also would love to hear your guys own ideas in the aak box!]

[clangrogu]

DC x Reader Fic Recs

It Got Worse by @hannibals-favourite-meal (Clark Kent x Reader, F!Reader, Wayne!Reader, SFW, Pregnancy, Bruce is overprotective)

Office Crushes by @hannibals-favourite-meal (Clark Kent x Reader, SFW, A/B/O Dynamics, Omega!Reader, Plus size!Reader, Slight angst, Protective!Clark)

Playground Chaos by @kimberly-spirits13 (Jason Todd x Reader, GN!Reader, SFW)

At the Stitches by @kimberly-spirits13 (Jason Todd x Reader, Black Widow!Reader, F!Reader, SFW, Reader has magic)

To the Paparazzi by @innerwomen (Bruce Wayne x Reader, F!Reader, Batmom!Reader, Husband!Bruce Wayne, SFW, Slight angst, Body shaming, Mild swearing, COVID-19 mentions)

Keep the Doors Locked by @hannibals-favourite-meal (Bruce Wayne x Reader, Batmom!Reader, Batboys x Batmom!Reader F!Reader, NSFW, Smut, Getting walked in on, Bi!reader mention)

Just a Couple More Minutes by @innerwomen (Bruce Wayne x Reader, Batboys x Batmom!Reader, F!Reader, Batmom!Reader, Husband!Bruce Wayne, SFW, Slightly Suggestive)

Illegal by @hannibals-favourite-meal (Batmom!Reader, Damian Wayne x Batmom!Reader, Bruce Wayne x Reader, F!Reader, SFW, Implication of smut, Puberty mentions)

What Is A Mother, But The Woman Who Loves Us Most? by @ragingbookdragon (Batmom!Reader, Batboys x Batmom!Reader, Bruce Wayne x Reader, F!Reader, SFW, Angst, Hurt/Comfort)

I Have Too Many Children by @ragingbookdragon (Batmom!Reader, Batboys x Batmom!Reader, Bruce Wayne x Reader, F!Reader, SFW, Implications of sex)

I’ve Finally Found Something For My Shelf by @ragingbookdragon (Batmom!Reader, Batboys x Batmom!Reader, Bruce Wayne x Reader, F!Reader, SFW)

"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me" by @allysunny (Bruce Wayne x Reader, F!Reader, SFW, Pregnancy, Bale!Bruce Wayne)

A New Beginning by @hannibals-favourite-meal (Bruce Wayne x Reader, Plus size!Reader, F!Reader, SFW)

Slumber Party by @bippot (Adrian Chase x Reader, F!Reader, SFW, Reader is kidnapped and kinda traumatised, Canon typical violence, Minor injuries)

Now or Never by @whirlybirbs (Adrian Chase x Reader, F!Reader, SFW, Mild depiction of injuries, Reader is a retired hero)

[helpfandom]

Yandere Batman (TAS) x Platonic Reader HCs.

I will say this, there is some Robin which is to be expected since he *is* Bruce's son canonically, but I dont think its enough to mention him in the title. I only finished the first season today (there are 60 episodes in the first jeez).

Hcs under cut.

He originally took an interest in you because of Robin. Robin was talking about how there was this new friend of his that had a cool sibling [you], and what kind of father would Bruce Wayne be if he didn't check out his son's friends? You just happened to be one of the people he investigated and he took an interest from there.

He saw that for a large portion of your time, you spent it alone. He felt bad, but he figured that everyone's trying their best, and maybe you spend it alone because that's what you like.

He would, of course, never tell Dick Grayson that he's stalking his friends and their [The friend's] family, but... he does mention you a couple more times than he should.

Robin mentions that the only reason he beat "the Riddle of the Minotaur" was because of you. Robin is slightly a yandere as well, but to be expected when his adoptive father is a yandere as well. Dick [Robin] likes to talk about you to Batman when there is some free time between the two, and this serves to further fuel Batman's yandere-ness. "Y'know, Batman, there's this friend of mine who..."

As Bruce watched you, he started noticing more and more things that made him pity you. He noticed that you would penny-pinch (you were saving up for something, but he chooses to ignore that in order to think you need him to finance your life), you would be different around adults versus people your age, (Adults get mad when you don't treat them with respect and you learned that very early one.) And so, as such, he started being a little delusional and thinking that you needed him (you've never even met him).

Alfred is slightly disappointed in Bruce for one, his delusions, two, for stalking you, and three, for impeding on his son's personal space.

Bruce, however, knows that Alfred would do whatever. Even if it meant keeping you here, in your new 'home'.

He would kidnap you at some point after a villains scheme that happens to have hurt you. It could be Joker's gas, a Penguin scheme with a bird that hurt you, or anything of the sort. Once you're hurt though, he brings you to the Batcave under the guise of 'I just need to heal them from [insert injury you got]'.

That would be how he kidnaps you. He just uses your injury to bring you to his house and then he won't let you leave, which is likely disorienting because it's either Batman, or Bruce Wayne who happens to be your friends dad and yet, now he claims you be yours?

He would never let you outside since he thinks you'll get hurt.

Robin would find out, but instead of being mad, he's slightly happy about this because now it means he has a sibling!

"C'mon Y/N, are you still mad about the kidnapping thing? Don't you wanna hang with me, Dick?"

"Kid. Why do you insist on making this difficult? If you would just accept that I can keep you safer than anyone else, you wouldn't be in this situation."

[batman-dc-imagines]

𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘰! 𝘔𝘺 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘈𝘥𝘢𝘭 𝘞𝘰𝘭𝘧𝘨𝘢𝘯𝘨 (𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘈𝘥𝘢𝘭 𝘰𝘳 𝘞𝘰𝘭𝘧𝘺!^^) 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘧𝘰𝘦𝘴! 𝘍𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘮 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘣𝘰𝘹 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘭 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘣𝘮𝘪𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴!^^

𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦: 𝘐'𝘮 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘎𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘮, 𝘈𝘳𝘬𝘩𝘢𝘮 𝘎𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘉𝘵𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦!

𝘊𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 3/3/24 𝘓𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘜𝘱𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 5/24/24

🔞𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘸 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘦!🔞 🫂𝘴𝘧𝘸 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵!🫂 🕊️𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘋𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵!🕊️ ❗𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘴❗

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨!

𝘐𝘯𝘣𝘰𝘹 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘋𝘮'𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯!

𝘐𝘯𝘣𝘰𝘹 📥 22/♾️

𝘙𝘶𝘭𝘦𝘴: 1. 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 I 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘷𝘪𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 2. 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴, 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘪𝘴. 3. 𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳(𝘴) + 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦 (𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘵) + 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳/𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘦𝘵𝘤. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵: 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘐𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 (𝘦𝘹. 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘑𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘴 𝘛𝘦𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘢 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦) 𝘈𝘯𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘢𝘭𝘭. 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴 (𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴 9) 𝘐𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩…(𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧) 𝘓𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 (𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴 4-5)

(𝘋𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘺: @𝘤𝘢𝘧𝘦𝘬𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘦)

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳(𝘴): 1. 𝘚𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯(𝘴) 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳(𝘴) 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭. 2. 𝘔𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘤𝘶𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘢𝘵 𝘍𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺, 𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴.

𝘈𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭: 𝘒𝘦𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 1. 𝘒𝘦𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐’𝘮 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘺. 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰�� 𝘧��𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦. 𝘐 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘦𝘸𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵, 𝘐 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘳. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘵. 2. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘐 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵. 𝘈𝘯𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥. 𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘦𝘴. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 (𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘮𝘪-𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤) 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘐'𝘮 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨/𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘵. 3. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘴𝘮 𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘥𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘱𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘢 𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘴𝘮 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘦𝘹. "𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦. 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘰𝘣𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘦𝘧𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘵." 𝘰𝘳 "𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳. 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘸𝘧𝘶𝘭, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦." 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘶𝘥𝘦.

[babyyoda234]

The Intern: The Laughing Fish

Gotham harbor buzzes with energy this morning. Fishermen compete for the best catch. Dozens of workers prep the yachts for their bosses rich escapades. Even the seagulls are hard at work today, eagerly searching the docks for their next meal. A perfect image of regular people living their lives. Unfortunately if we've been called, then something must be going horribly wrong. Judging from the crowd of distressed fishermen forming towards the end of the boardwalk, my gut feeling was right.

As I draw near the distressed crowd, a familiar voice rises above the rest.

"We are sending our best people to look into this. Keep an eye out for a press conference by the end of today." Commissioner Gordon addresses the crowd.

The crowd erupts in a chorus of anger.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"I'm going to brutalize that clown!"

"God, I hate this city."

Behind the greying commissioner stands a very sour looking Dr. Harris. I maneuver my way through the crowd next to him.

"Dr." I greet from behind.

Dr. Harris says nothing while attempting to catch a slippery fish.

"How adept are you at evolutionary biology?" He eventually asks through the sweat beating down his face.

"I dabble..." I respond growing closer to peer over his shoulder.

Dr. Harris grabs a fish with his bare hands. Before I can move the wiggling vertebrate leaps from his hands directly at my face.

"Catch it!" Dr. Harris hisses.

The flying tang leaves a wet trail across my cheek before dropping into my hands. The poor fish fights with everything it has to get away. Against all odds, I manage to wrangle the wiggle worm into a somewhat sturdy position in my palms.

Once the fish slows a bit, I notice something. The fish is smiling. A big yellow toothy smile with a red outline that one could mistake for lips. The external scales have turned a peculiar, yet familiar shade of pearly white. Both the pelvic fin and the pectoral fin have developed into a contrasting shade of dark green.

If I didn't know any better, I would say it looked like-

"Joker..." A voice growls interrupting my thoughts.

Turning to face our new arrival, I almost laugh at what I see. Batman's suit looks a little goofy in the morning light. Maybe even a little warm in the humid air. The cowl has a slight shine to it. Dr. Harris immediately begins explaining our situation to the Caped Crusader.

"This batch came in last night. We don't know how or why. The working hypothesis is that this may be a side effect of the Jokers latest toxin."

"Is it deadly?" Batman questions eyeing the gasping fish in my hands.

"Not to the fish. We should get the test results back by noon if we start soon."

Batman nods.

"Let me know what you find out."

I take pity on the fish and throw it back with the rest. Most of my life I've struggled with asthma: I know the feeling.

"What would he have to gain from this?" I wonder aloud.

Turning to the Dark Knight, I am stunned to realize there is nobody there. Batman disappeared. Doing a 360, I notice a dark figure hiding in the shadows on the nearest boat.

Huh.. Maybe the dark suit doesn't look so dumb in the daylight after all.

Dr. Harris smiles at me for the first time. My heart pounds. This can't be good.

"Didn't you say that you liked smoothies?"

I do like smoothies, but why does this feel like a test? I nod slowly.

"I hope you didn't eat anything too heavy this morning. We'll need to prep quite a bit of samples."

I narrow my eyes. Samples are typically liquid. How would we make fish.... Oh my God... This cannot be happening.

"Don't we need to test the water for excess nutrients? We don't want an algae bloom to form from the toxin."

There's a glint that forms underneath his unnecessarily large glasses.

"All in good time dear. We can worry about that after lunch."

Hoisting the barrel of Joker fish into the bed of his pick up truck, Dr. Harris teases down at me.

"After we prep those samples, how about fish and chips? I'm having a craving."

[stephstars08]

Monster ~ Chapter One

Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: Adult Language, Weapons, Threats, Mention of Death, Mention of Nudity, Violence, Angst, Some Fluff, Dark Themes, and Possible Grammar Errors.

Word Count: 2,501

Y/N was peacefully sleeping in her bed till she was awoken by tapping on her window of her bedroom. When she opened her eyes, she saw a familiar face standing on the fire escape that was connected to her window. She sat up and looked at her alarm clock on her nightstand that read two in the morning. She let out a sigh as she pulled off her soft and comfy blanket off her body and stood up.

She walked over to the window and opened it up. She did it as quietly as she could, so she didn’t wake up her parents that were sleeping in the room next to her. Let’s just say this window has been noisy ever since she was a baby. No matter how many times she told her parents it needed to be fixed it just went through one ear and out the other. They probably leave it like it is on purpose so they can hear when she is sneaking out. But jokes on them since she has learned if she opens the window as slow as she can, it won’t make any noise.

“Jason, what are you doing here?” Y/N whispered to her long-time best friend. “I was wondering if you were up to do one of our early morning strolls.” Jason whispered back to her in a curious tone. “I would but you know if my parents find out that I sneaked out with you they would have you arrested just like they did the last time.” Y/N whispered to him with a tired sigh. Let’s just say that Y/N’s parents aren’t very fond of Jason. “Don’t worry, I have a plan this time.” Jason whispered to her as he quietly climbed inside.

Y/N watched Jason grab all of her pillows that were sitting on her comfy chair and laid them out on her bed. He pulled her blanket over the top of the pillows, so it now looks like someone is laying in the bed. “I don’t know Jason, I’m still worried about getting caught.” Y/N whispered still very unsure. “Y/N don’t worry. We’ll just be out for a couple hours. I promise I’ll have you back in time when they come in here to wake you up for school.” Jason whispered to her in reassurance.

“Okay.” Y/N whispered finally giving in as she slipped on a pair of shoes. Jason’s lips curved into a smile as he grabbed one of her jackets and handed it over to her. She thanked him and slipped on her jacket as she followed him over to her open window. Jason was the first one to climb out of the window and onto the fire escape. As always, he helped her climb out of the window and safely onto the fire escape. She quietly closed her window and followed Jason down the fire escape.

“So, what are we stealing tonight?” Y/N asked him as she walked out of the alleyway with him and walked down the sidewalk with him. “Car tires.” Jason answered. “Car tires?” Y/N said in a confused tone. “Yeah, I can make good money selling them.” Jason told her as he walked into the next alley way from Y/N’s apartment building.

Their eyes went wide when they saw a nice-looking car parked in the alleyway. “Holy shit! Look at this baby!” Jason said walking over to the car and putting one of his hands on top of the hood. Y/N knew she’d seen this car before on the news. “Oh my gosh!” Y/N gasp remembering. “Jason, this is the bat mobile!” Y/N told him. “So, that means it will be double the price for the tires.” Jason said taking out a wrench from inside his jacket that has a pocket inside. “Go be the look out.” He told her getting down on his knees and started to take the screws out of the front tire.

Y/N turned around but before she could take even take two steps, she ran into someone. She looked up to see who she bumped into. “Oh, crap!” Y/N said when she noticed who she ran into as her heartrate sped up. “What is going on here?” Batman growled which made Jason freeze. Jason looked over and there he saw him, Batman standing right in front of Y/N. “Um, we were just leaving.” Jason said dropping the wrench. “Hold it!” Batman hissed it a warning tone before Y/N and Jason could run away. “First, you are going to fix my tire.” Batman told Jason in a stern tone. Jason let out a heavy sigh as he picked his wrench back up.

“When you are done fixing my tire, I am going to drive you two home since you two are way too young to be out here this late by yourselves.” Batman told them which made Jason roll his eyes. “You can take Y/N home. I don’t have a home.” Jason told him as he finished fixing the tire. “Do you have a parent or guardian?” Batman asked him which Jason shook his head no. “My mom died early this year and I don’t know where my dad is.” Jason said standing back up and putting his wrench back into his jacket. “I’m the only person he has. I’ve tried to have him live with my parents and I, but they don’t like him.” Y/N added.

“I know someone who can take you in.” Batman offered which made Jason let out a harsh laugh. “Yeah, no thanks.” Jason snapped turning to walk away but got stopped by Y/N grabbing his arm. “Jason please take his offer.” Y/N said in a pleading tone. “I’m better on my own.” Jason told her in a stern tone. “No, you’re not!” Y/N said matching his tone. “Ever since your mom died you have been having trouble supporting yourself.” She told him. She knew he still wasn’t on board. “Please Jason! It’s not safe for you to be out on the streets!” Y/N begged him with a worried look in her eyes. She knows he hates when he worries about him, so he knew he had to take up the hero’s offer. “Okay, I’ll do it.” Jason said in a soft tone finally giving in.

********************

Two years have now passed since Jason has been adopted by the one and only Bruce Wayne. Jason had only been living with Bruce for one month when he was told that Bruce is Batman. Bruce has seen much potential in Jason, so he decided to train him into becoming the new Robin. Training only took one year. Ever since Jason became Robin, he hasn’t been able to visit Y/N. Ever since becoming the Boy Wonder he’s been busy. During the day he’s doing home schooling with Alfred and during the night he’s on patrol.

It was pasted midnight when Y/N was walking home to her apartment. It was a chilly night in Gotham, so she snuggled closer into her jacket. “Hey cutie!” She heard some whistle at her. Y/N just ignored the voice and kept on walking. “HEY!” The voice called out to her louder this time. “LEAVE ME ALONE!” She yelled out as she kept on walking.

Suddenly she was pulled down onto the cold sidewalk by her hair. “Don’t you ignore me you little bitch!” A man snapped at her standing over top of her now shaking body. Y/N was going to try and get back up but quickly halted when the man took out a gun and pointed it right in front of her face. “Give me your fucking money!” The man told her in a demanding tone. “I don’t have any money, I swear.” Y/N told him in a shaky tone. “Fine, I’ll just take your fucking life instead!” The man snapped with anger. Y/N closed her waiting to hear the gun go off but instead she heard the man groaning in pain.

When she opened her eyes, she saw a gloved hand offering to help her up. Her heart skipped a beat when she noticed that the hand belongs to Robin, Batman’s side kick. She put her hand in his and let him help her off the cold sidewalk. “Are you okay?” Robin asked her with concern in his voice. “Yes, thank you so much.” Y/N told him so thankful. “It’s no problem. That bastard is knocked out and tied up. He can’t hurt you.” Robin told her in reassurance.

The more Y/N stared at him the more he felt very familiar to her. “Have we met before?” She asked him which made his heart skip a beat. Jason wanted to take off his domino mask, but he knew he couldn’t. “No, sorry.” Robin said with a lie which killed him inside. This isn’t the first time he’s lied to his best friends face but he knew it was the right thing since it’s going to keep her safe.

“Why are you out here all by yourself?” Robin asked quickly changing the subject. “I snuck out to go to a party which started to get out of control, so I left by myself which was obviously a dumb decision.” Y/N explained with a sigh. “It’s okay, you just didn’t want to get into anything you would end up regretting.” Robin reassured her.

“Thanks again for saving me. I really should get back home.” Y/N said with sincere. She went to go walk away but he quickly stopped her. “Let me walk you home.” Robin offered to her. “But what about the robber.” Y/N asked in confusion. “Don’t worry, the cops are already on their way to get him, and he’ll be out for a while anyways.” Robin reassuring her with a smile as he offered his hand to her again. “Okay.” Y/N said with a smile as she put her hand into his again.

Ever since that night Jason has been visiting Y/N as Robin. Since he couldn’t find the time to see her as himself, why not visit her as his other identity. Of course, he never told Bruce about it since he knows he’ll chew him out for it. He wants to tell her the truth but every time he mentioned it to Bruce, he would immediately shut him down saying it’s too dangerous for Y/N to know. However, after two years the visits suddenly stopped which made Y/N confused till she finally found out why. The Joker had murdered him which broke her heart into a million pieces.

********************

*One Year Later*

Jason slowly opened his eyes from a deep slumber. He slowly sat up in the mattress he stole and took of the blanket he also stole off his body. He looked over in the corner of the small bedroom where his red helmet and suit just lying on the floor in a small pile. Flashbacks of last night started to flash through his mind.

Jason broke out of his flashbacks when he heard his phone ringing on the floor next to him. He picked the phone up and answered the call putting the phone up against his ear. “Hey Babs.” Jason said into the phone. “Hey Jason. I called to let you know that I tried everything but unfortunately, I couldn’t find anything on your childhood best friend.” He heard Barbara tell him in a sad tone. “Oh.” Jason said in disappointment trying to hide it but didn’t work. “I’m so sorry Jason.” He heard Barbara’s tell him still with a sad tone since she really did feel bad. “It’s fine.” Jason said into the phone with a heavy sigh as he used his other hand to run it through his messy raven colored hair. “I can try something else. There has to be something that can tell us if she’s still in Gotham or not.” He heard Barbara tell him which just made him shake is head. “No it’s fine. I’m sure Bruce is giving up a lot of shit to do anyways.” Jason said into the phone. “I’ll talk to you later.” He said and ended the call before she would say anything.

When Jason put his phone back down on the floor, he saw the framed picture of him and Bruce just lying there on the floor. The picture was from the days when he was Robin. He was in his suit and Bruce was in his Batman suit. The picture was taken in the bat cave by Alfred. Jason knew that the photo taken the day he wore his suit for the very first time. As he stared at the photo, he noticed the big smile he had on his face. He hasn’t smiled like that in a very long time.

He felt his blood start to boil in anger, so he quickly stood up and made his way to the bathroom so he could take a shower. After he turned on the water he stripped out of his dirty clothes and walked into the shower. He let the warm water come down onto his sore body. He washed his hair and body and then washed off the soap. Once he was done, he turned the water off and pulled away the shower curtain to grab his only towel. He wrapped the towel around his waist and made his way back to his bedroom.

He got out a fresh pair of clothes and put them on after he dried himself off. He grabbed his black leather jacket and put it on slipping on an old pair of sneakers. He grabbed his phone and keys that were laying together on the floor. He didn’t even glance at the picture. Jason walked out of his tiny apartment, locking the door and then out the door of the apartment building into the chilly autumn weather.

Jason just stood at the top of the steps and took in his surroundings. As the autumn breeze passed through him people just walked down the sidewalks making their way to their destination wether it was work or school for the kids. Jason took a deep breath and walked down the steps. He started to walk down the sidewalk with both hands into the pockets of his jacket.

He wasn’t watching where he was going to, he accidentally ran into someone. “Oops, I’m so sorry.” He heard a sweet and familiar voice say to him. When he saw the person’s face his heart rate sped up.

“Y/N!” Jason said in a surprised tone. “Oh my gosh, Jason! Is it really you?” Y/N said in complete shock. She almost didn’t recognize him since he looked pretty much all grown up. Jason gave her a nod.

Y/N didn’t say anything, she just gave him a big hug. “I’ve missed you so much.” Y/N said as she rested her head onto his chest. “I missed you, too.” Jason said returning the hug that was bringing memories back to the both of them. It felt so good to be back into each other's arms.

🏷️ @calicocat45 @deimks @k0m0rixminttea @greeniegreengreen

[cas-backwards-tie]

Chapter Four: Desolate Days

Heiress of Gotham

Masterlist | Previous Chapter

Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Summary: It’s time. The funeral has finally come around. While the expected have shown up, will the unexpected lead to loose threads in your life? It'll certainly raise questions, that's for sure.

Words: 3.7k

Warnings: Funeral, Depression, Threats, Crying, Angst,

Mentions of: Death, Bodies, Trauma,

A/N: While this chapter is angsty, and the next one contains some twists and turns, I promise it'll actually start to become more fun around chapter six once the reader gets settled into her new life!

It wasn't easy, not by any means; a week full of setting up a funeral, at fifteen, for your mother... the only real family you've ever had. Sure, there were close family friends in your life, but they weren't a constant presence, not like her. All that flew out the window when you'd been orphaned, and now, who knows what will become of those relationships. You figure, only time will tell.

As for the actual events, tonight is the viewing, followed by a dinner at a nearby Italian restaurant you guys used to love, and tomorrow morning is the burial. While there'd been lots of talk about who would come and what it would mean to them, and you, the conversation never fully came to any certain conclusion.

You don't know and aren't close with your new siblings, and while from a publicity standpoint it makes sense they should come and show their support, your Father is really the only person who knew your Mother. Even then, how well did he truly know her? The question stands. With all this in mind, you know that Bruce is accompanying you tomorrow, and by extension, Alfred too. That much you're clear on.

Money is a tough subject. Isn't it for everyone? While you weren't rich growing up in Bludhaven, you also weren't in the degree of poverty that some are, either. Nevertheless, funerals you quickly learned, cost a lot of money. You'd think it'd be one thing to bury someone in your backyard (if you had one, that is), or even toss them in the dumpster (not that you'd do that), or even set them afloat on the river and nearest ocean (that either), yet, the government wants their money. That's always what it boils down too, doesn't it? Regardless, Bruce had been suspicious when you brought up paying for the funeral. He offered, and while you'd argued for a good half hour, you'd finally compromised with him.

He wants to pay for the funeral, and you can keep the money you--somehow--have for college. Apparently, he expects you to do that now, as well. Not that college was outside of the question before, but... you still have three years to think about it, don't you? All in all, he let you pick out what you thought your mother would like, which, ultimately sort of became what you'd like... right? Besides the preferences in her will, there was still the matter of some sort of plaque or headstone, obsidian or silver... the works. Trying to keep money in mind, you didn't go crazy, but you did let him deal with it while still trying to give her at least something fairly nice.

It all happened so fast, really. Picking out everything, setting things up, and sending out a message so your family friends would know when and where to show up to pay their respects if they wished to do so. Not many people knew about your recent transfer of guardianship, or rather, to who. And while there had apparently been somewhat of a civil kerfuffle with your mother's best friend in an attempt to waive Bruce of his fatherly duties, Bruce apparently decided to claim custody of you. That's what social services naturally thought was the best fit for you.

"You don't have to go in if you don't want," Dick speaks up from behind you.

Standing outside the doors to the funeral home, you know that all too soon the doors will open up for her viewing and you won't be able to escape. Regardless of how many people show up, you'll be met with stories, jokes, emotions, conversation, and things you're just not ready to handle. Staring at the doors, Damian walks past you, soon followed by Tim as they make their way to the door.

"Sure she does. Maybe not now, but sooner or later you have to," Tim offers you with a sympathetic smile, "otherwise you'll never forgive yourself."

"That's just his regret talking," Jason accuses as he straightens the lapels of his black vest and follows the younger boys. "You do what you want, kid." A pat on the back, he too heads inside, leaving you there, Dick still lingering over your shoulder.

"It's your decision," the Detective reminds you with a sympathetic and encouraging smile before pushing open the doors to the funeral parlor.

Standing there in your short black t-shirt dress, the hem whips in the wind as a storm brews in the distance by the Fawcett-Bludhaven border, eventually destined to head your way, closer to the ocean, no doubt. Though you're adorned by a simple black headband, the accessory doesn't keep your hair from hanging around the frame of your face, eyes glued to the fancy sheen of your church shoes: a pair of black mary-janes. 

"Are you second-guessing?" The gruff voice of your Father emanates from your side and you raise your eyes to meet his face. There's a forlorn and distant look in his eyes as he stares ahead at the double doors leading toward the place you know the two of you will be met with a familiar face.

With a subtle nod, he mirrors your action, a clearing of his throat as he straightens his tie. "I can't say I blame you. Though, I can make you an offer," he proposes. As he turns his head, you're met with knowing blue eyes, a hint of what you swear is mischievousness behind them. "If you ever need to bail, why don't we have some sort of code? A code word, what about that?" He expands, the furrowed brows on your face cluing him onto your thoughtful mentality.

"I have to think about it," you respond quietly, eyes roaming the property. While Bristol is an eclectic part of Gotham for sure, this part of town feels somewhat desolate. The nearest and nicest open-plot cemetery to Bludhaven, it was a compromise on everyone's behalf. Not far enough from Bludhaven to feel unlike home and lack a means of public transportation for those in need, and not one of the buildings in the city that are more mausoleum-like, an option you hadn't wanted to consider. She deserved something better. A rumbling of thunder echoes throughout the landscape, the sky growing dark in the distance; eyes brought to the weather, your mind churns. "What about... 'Blizzard'?" It wasn't totally innocuous, yet it wasn't entirely improbable either.

"It'll definitely be interesting to see how we manage to work that into conversation naturally," Bruce jokes, to which you offer him a quiet chuckle, the inkling of a smile working its way onto the corners of your lips.

"Is that okay?" You ask, unsure if he approves.

"Blizzard it is," the Billionaire agrees, stretching out a hand in a semblance of kinship. With a moment of consideration, it doesn't take long for your hand to meet his in conciliation. With a firm shake, you both turn to enter the parlor side by side.

--------

Hand clutching the prized middle-school graduation gift you'd received from your Mother, a golden chain necklace with a teardrop image of La Virgen on it, you subtly run it back and forth along the chain where it rests on your sternum between your collarbones. Despite uncomfortable conversation and questions, you hadn't needed the code word. The attempt to try and visit your Mother before the service was unfruitful, people having shown up earlier than expected, others wanting to set up and you consequently helping like the obedient little girl you often were. Nevertheless, even now with only family members remaining, you still stand at a distance where only her hands propped up on her waist are visible.

Bruce had gotten by through making conversation, trying to get to know you and your acquaintances through their association and knowledge, though their questions often turned on him. Upon the revelation that you're not only now, but always have been a Wayne dawned on them. The natural questions would tend to follow. 'How well did you know her? Were you close to her?' As much as the Playboy would love to admit he didn't know your Mother on the level it would seem most people assumed, he also knew that sort of answer might tarnish any image of your Mother that these people already had in mind. Hence, he tended to use his usual tactics of evasion in a similar manner to any gala he'd attend.

The boys ended up doing recon in some sense, all in their own versions. Damian had intended to simply find a nice corner to sit in and text Jon about the plans for their next hangout and fill him in on the dreadful activities he's been put up to on the behest of his new 'sister'. If he could even call you that. Tim hadn't been filled in on the situation concerning your little expedition with Jason and what the elder had found during that time, so when Dick naturally seemed curious and a little too snoopy for his taste in concern of the event, it was only upon questioning his brother that he found out about the circumstances.

Dick went into this with the hopes of finding out information on your family, on what you all knew, the type of people you were, and what they knew specifically about you and your Mom. That much cash laying around even with the excuse of not trusting banks, in Bludhaven of all places, was ridiculous. Especially for the job he dug around and found out your Mother had. Therefore, he took to subtly interrogating people under the guise of attempting to get to know his new little sister better. 

Jason had intended to go only on the purpose of supporting you, and watching his family in suspect, considering they've all seemed dubious of your Mother and your family's involvement in some sort of criminal activity. While he'd been curious, watching you, talking to you, he's found that there's probably not much further whatever 'secret' your family is hiding goes. Sometimes people do things they need to do to survive, and if he's heard any stories about your Mother this evening, he'd suspect that's it.

Damian eventually caught wind of Grayson's not-so-subtle tactics of questioning people, and decided his evening would be much more fruitful doing exactly what his brother was doing, only in a more professional manner. After all, once he'd rounded the parlor he'd seen his Father doing the same thing in his own fashion, therefore, he can't be mad at them for doing the same when he's the one who's supposed to be setting the example, right?

Oblivious to your new family's motives, you try and work up the courage to say goodbye to her... to her face. Evading the happy images that filter through wild transitions on television's slideshow to the right, you run a thumb over the memorium card you'd taken. Even if they were for everyone else, you still wanted one. Room practically empty, you finally take the leap and close the space between you and the open casket.

Immediately you have to avert your eyes. It's... too painful. Yet, another curious part of you tempts you to take another look. Upon second glance it simply appears as if she's sleeping. Peacefully. There's no lacerations or marks, no sign of any sort of ill-wrought event, and yet, you know the wiser. "I hate this," you whisper through your teeth, jaw clenching in an attempt to keep your tears at bay. "It's not fair. I don't know why... why it had to be you." With a sniffle and a heavy sigh that bobs your shoulders, you reach out and place a small hand on her larger, and eerily cold hand. "I wish I could ask you, that I could talk to you- that you could tell me why- why you never told me! I don't- I don't want to do this but I know I have to, and he's giving me... all you ever wanted for me. I-" Breath coming quicker, you have to force yourself to speak the next words, determined not to break down in front of everyone. "Te quiero mucho, mamá, te extraño, y vas a recordar para siempre." With a gentle squeeze to her hand, you turn and head for the doors, eyes downcast as you avoid everyone.

--------

Somehow, the universe always reflected its events; while it’d been mostly thunder and heat lightning the night prior, this morning the dark clouds have been pouring rain. Alfred had gotten you up, though really you hadn’t slept much in anticipation of what today would hold. Having been dressed for some time now, all you’ve done is sit at the window seat and stare outside, watching the rain pelt the earth repeatedly, unyielding in its triumph. You can’t help but think it’s like life, forceful until the end, when it eventually wanes and succumbs to a stop. Maybe you’re overthinking, but with everything that’s been going on… you don’t think you can help it.

“Hey,” your Father’s voice calls from the door, a gentle knock on the wood follows as he continues to open it and step through the threshold. “Are you ready? Breakfast is waiting, and then Alfred’s gonna take us,” he informs, “the boys are going to join for breakfast, but then it’ll just be us, alright?” 

Before he can get too far into the room you rise from the window seat and tear your attention away from the gardens. With a nod, you meet him halfway and follow downstairs.

Breakfast is mostly silent, as you’re sure no one is quite certain what to say. If they could say anything, that is. Hell, even Damian doesn't have a snarky remark, and Dick doesn't try and make meaningless conversation. It all comes and goes far faster than you'd imagined, though the food was delicious. With your departure and solemn looks from your newfound siblings, Alfred pulls the Rolls Royce up to a gentle stop before the Manor's fancy double doors.

It was hard to believe she was in there. Yes, you'd picked out the coffin, yes you'd seen her at the viewing, and yet... this is your Mother. The woman who birthed you, who fed you, who took care of you year after year, and was there for you no matter what. And now... she's gone.

It doesn't feel real. The rain pattering against the umbrella Bruce holds up over you. All the people who sit and stand opposite of the priest as he goes about his rites. Of course there came time for the eulogy, and while there was the option of making one yourself, you couldn't find it within yourself to do so. Like Tim had mentioned, this could be something you may regret later, but in this moment it feels like too much. There's a dull queasiness that never leaves your stomach as you stand, eyes cast downward as your hands lay clasped before you. Rain, muck, and mud cling to your black mary-jane shoes, the ground now beginning to flood as the soil's beared all it can soak up for the next coming weeks. 

People come and go, they give their well wishes and hopes for your sake, and yet you can't really put any of it to mind or manner as all you can focus on is the growing emptiness within you. This isn't how things were supposed to go. You weren't supposed to be burying your parent... not this soon. That's not how it works! 

It's the call of your name that stirs you from your thoughts. Eyes raising to the familiar face, you can't help but feel your eyes widen with the shock and astonishment that they had the audacity to visit... to stay. Yes, he wasn't a stranger; yet an acquaintance isn't necessarily a friend. The boy lifts his hands to cup one of yours between his. "I'm so sorry to hear what happened, Mi Amor, I'm always here for you, sabes," Saul says. Though there's a sympathetic look in his eyes, you don't trust him one bit. Not after he'd taken one opportunity after another and gotten trapped up with the man behind him: Antonio 'Angel' Marin. Sure, you'd dumped Saul before he'd become affiliated with the notorious Bludhaven mob boss, but it didn't do him any favors holding company like that. 

As Saul leaves you and heads toward the line of black cars along the cemetery road, you dread the man next in line. "It's an unfortunate thing, losing a mother," Angel speaks, "looks like luck had its way with you though, getting you out." From the outside it might seem inappropriate, or perhaps simply a mistaken and poorly judged comment, but you know better. Lips pursing, jaw tightening, you don't dare let your hands form into fists as you meet the man's eyes. 

His oily face and ratty mustache meet your gaze, and you suddenly feel anger beginning to simmer in your gut. Though you're not sure why. While there'd been a time you may have considered him a family friend, a protector, a genius, and a revolutionary... those times have gone. He hadn't done your family wrong, in fact, he'd done nothing but try to help you and your Mom out of poverty, and yet... there were always strings attached. Neither of you had seen them at first and once you'd wanted out, you'd luckily gotten out without too much of a fight. Thankfully, unlike some of the stories you've heard, and yet, somewhere within you the anger persists. Maybe it's the smug look on his face, his taunting words perhaps, but whatever it is, he irks you.

"Don't go gettin' into any more trouble, ya hear?" His thin voice lets out a wry chuckle and he lays a pat on your shoulder before you can dodge it. Watching him leave with his trail of two or three choice goons behind him, you can't help but feel like he'd only come here for one thing, and one thing only... to taunt you. Was it a warning? A sign? A way of telling you that without his protection you were doomed? Leading a life toward failure? Only to end up like your Mother? No... no, that can't be it. There has to be something else, that can't be it. 

"Do you know him?" Bruce asks, finally speaking up for the first time since the service ended. He'd seen the whole interaction, he knows who that man was... but he doesn't know if you do. Not truly, anyway. Even if the grimace and shiver that'd run up your spine was visible from the way you attempted to evade the evil man's touch. Eyes peering down at you, he's disturbed by the lack of eye contact you make. Maybe he shouldn't be... you haven't been talking or interacting as much as you had been in the days leading up to this, something that's normal, he can only imagine.

"Once," you respond faintly. Eyes coming back to the rolling hills of the cemetery you watch the rain continue to pour. Life doesn't seem to stir here, no sight of sneaky intruders like squirrels, doves, or robins, no other patrons coming to visit their loved ones on a day like this. Thunder cracks overhead, and the diminishing sound of tires on gravel signals the Angel's departure. With a thick swallow, your hands finally ball up into fists. A single tear finally breaches the confines of your eyelid and slips down your cheek. With a heavy sigh you turn, meeting Alfred who stands a few feet behind the both of you. Stomping over to him, you grab the bouquet of flowers you'd all picked up on the way. "If you want to say anything... here," you announce over the sounds of the thunderstorm. Undoing the plastic and rubber bands from the store-bought bouquet, you hand both the men a single flower. Determined that the rest should belong to you, you head over to the grave, uncaring if you get wet any longer as you're no longer under their umbrellas.

Though your teeth hurt from the way your jaw is clenched, you can't help it as the tears start to flow more freely. With everyone gone, you don't mind being here alone. Placing the flowers atop your Mother's casket, your hand lingers on the polished wood while your free hand hangs onto the necklace your Mother had given you. "I can't do this without you," the words come in a whisper, your head almost meeting the wood before you think better of it. You don't want to appear a broken-down mess in front of the men watching. "I don't know what t-to do."

Raindrops soak your hair, coat your dress and shoes, your socks have splashes of water and freshly cut grass, not to mention that your face is covered in a mixture of raindrops and tears. A few moments of silence is all you need before you finally gather the courage to say one last goodbye and turn away, heading down the hill back toward the car before the storm gets worse.

------

"Dick... there's something you should know," Bruce mentions quietly. It's obvious from his behavior that he's upset, that this won't be a long conversation. "Antonio Marin was at her funeral. He came up to her and spoke something cryptic. I asked her about it and she said that she knew him once. I know I asked you all not to dig around, but, this is in your territory and I thought you should know." Evading his son's eye contact, he straightens his tie and sniffs, still clad in his tuxedo from the funeral. "I'll see if I can get any more information out of her, but... I don't want her caught up in this... I don't-" he sighs, finally turning to meet his son's gaze again with a look he's only seen once before, "-I don't want her getting hurt."

"I... understand." With a nod and a sympathetic look upon his face, the younger man stretches out his hand to lay it on his Father's shoulder in a small form of comfort. He knows Bruce well enough to know that anything too grand would steer him away, and while the thought of another child getting hurt at his behest unburies all the trauma Dick knows Jason's death had brought him, Dick knows they can't change the past. "I- we won't let that happen. I promise you that, Dad."

~~~~~~~~

forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic , @moonlightsolo

hog taglist: @luvly-writer , @clairese1980

[gotham-daydreams]

Not Tonight

[Platonic! Yandere! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]

[Warnings: Mentions of Neglect, Reader generally not having a good time.]

(Not proofread. Not too much Yandere shown. Mostly angst with Reader. Set up(?))

2nd chapter here. Chapter 3 Pt. 1, Pt. 2. [Series Masterlist]

๑۩۞۩๑————————————————————๑۩۞۩๑

How many times have you heard them say that? How many times have you tried to do something with them, to share your passion — or even just have some coffee with them, only to hear them say that phrase time and time again.

"Not tonight."

Well, what if you didn't ask them during the night? What if you asked them in the afternoon, or just when they were already up and about?

"Sorry! I can't right now, patrol reeeally kicked my ass last night. Besides, I have some other things that I have to get done, but maybe next time! For sure!"

Okay, right. That makes sense. Sometimes their line of work can be tough and draining, especially when someone is trying to run Gotham to the ground that night. So what if you just try to ask them when they aren't so busy? It may really limit the times you can ask... but you'd still try. Maybe it could also help if you asked for smaller things, like if they'd just like to spend a little time with you before going out again, or if you could just hang around them for a while? Nothing big, and anything was fine. Even if it was just sitting next to them, and having some small talk. Or maybe just the sitting part if talking was too much.

You'd take anything at all.

"I'm actually heading out right now, so I can't stick around. Go ask someone else."

"Can't you see that I already have enough compang with Titus here? Go bother Drake or something, I don't care."

All you could hear was snores past the door when you went to ask. So you moved onto someone else, hoping for a yes as your heart began to squeeze.

Someone had to agree eventually, right?

You begged the Gods as you traveled down the long halls. The chills of reality creeping up on you.

"Sorry, I'm going out to hang with some friends, but maybe next time!"

"..." She just looked at you before shaking her head, and taking her leave.

"I've got something to do at the moment, sorry, but hey, maybe you could ask your old man? Oh! Or maybe Alfred. That's a good idea."

Dick was out in Bludhaven, and you didn't want to bother Barbara considering how bisy she must've been the other night. So, you had no other choice. You asked, heart bleeding from how hard it squeezed.

"Not now."

Simple, to the point, and sharp.

Bruce's words were as cold as ever, and yet the echo in the cave only seemed to make the gap between you and him feel so much bigger. Even as you just nodded, eyes pointed to the floor. Taking your leave with a soft sigh that barely escaped you.

The elevator ride was longer than you remembered. The cold chill in the air grew freezing even as you stepped out, and now stood in one of the many halls in the Wayne Manor. Portraits and pictures decorated the walls, their painted and photographed eyes staring at you. Their gaze far from soft, but at least it was present. At least they, in that way, felt present.

You swore the only times they ever smiled at you that wasn't faked, or just for the sake of appearances was in those paintings and photos. Honestly, it was also probably the most times they've even looked at you too, and as sad as it is — you did say you'd take anything, right?

A 'no' or 'maybe' was part of that anything, technically. It's just not what you were hoping for.

Sighing again, you stared up at one of the portraits, eyes shinging under the lights as everything you refused to say made itself so clear for a moment. You didn't want much, and never asked for more than what you were given. You didn't think so anyway.

You always followed the rules, you did more than just excel in all your classes no matter how hard it was for you to understand certain things, and you even tried to get into things your family seemed to enjoy without pushing too hard.

You studied up on all the pets Damian had so that you could not only care for them properly, but maybe even take care of them with him some day. You played games and read reviews on games you saw Tim play just for a chance that maybe you'd get the opportunity to play with him. You picked up boxing and have even been practicing your aim with an airsoft gun, and have also been going to certain place when you could to practice using real guns and learn about them just so you'd maybe be able to have a conversation with Jason, and even connect with him in some way. You even read nearly all the books in the library just to have a sliver of hope for something, anything.

You learned sign language in three different languages and tried to find out what Cassandra was interested in, just to have some kind of interaction with her. Even writing on small note cards in serval other languages in hopes she'd give some kind of response, even if you forgot to put your initials and such more than several times. You participated in gymnastics in hopes of getting closer to Dick. You tried to find out what Barbra was into so you could also hold up a conversation with her if given the chance. You've tried to match Stephen's energy and do things she likes and have even taken up material arts as a means to maybe be a little closer with everyone!

Yet it never seems like enough.

Your schedule was so packed and filled with activities and extra lessons of all kinds, just so that you could feel like you had something in common with someone in this family. So that, when given the chance, you'd be able to form a connection with one of them and your efforts and sacrifices wouldn't be in vain. Though that still had yet to happen.

You weren't even a vigilante as you tried to persue your own passion and dreams, and yet that one single thing seemed to be keeping you away from everyone else. The one thing you were unwilling to do for them just seemed to make the gap between you and the rest of the family grow bigger. They're constant and continuous dismissals only seemed to further that point.

Just... what were you doing wrong? Was you not being a vigilante and constantly putting yourself at risk every night really putting that much of a dent in your relationships? Did your dreams really get in the way of that? Just because you didn't want to put yourself in danger? Just because you wanted to pursue music instead?

You took up art despite not being super interested in it before. You've been reading all of your life. Your stretched, ran, exercised, cooked, cleaned, organized, sang, wrote, danced, and even sculpted. You picked up almost any hobby someone could have under the sun, even if it began to feel like a chore and a job to you, just so that you could have something, anything in common with this family.

Though now you've gone through countless 'hobbies', and dropped many more since nothing seemed to be working, it... it still didn't feel like enough. Like you had to be doing something more despite having lost countless hours of sleep, just to go through the list of hobbies you had written down that you had left to try. You even took up some sports you were somewhat interested in, and yet nothing clicked.

Though is that really surprising when no one noticed how many times you snuck out for lessons and practice, or how long you were out? When you'd even forget to return to the Manor sometimes, and anyone still had yet to notice you were even gone in the first place?

... You couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped you. It was broken in every way, and yet empty all the same. Maybe you were finally taking after Bruce, but you wouldn't get your hopes up.

You looked up at the painting as if it'd give you all the answers, and yet dismiss you at the same time. The disappointment you felt was normal to you at this point, but the aching pain that came after was always the hardest part. Yet you still stared at the painted faces as if they were your real family, and the people close to them. Looked at the calculated and skilled brush strokes as if they'd give you what your family couldn't. What they refused to give you at every twist and turn, no matter how much you tried to accommodate to them. To do things for them. To just feel worthy enough to stand by their side. To be closer to them.

Though in the end, it is only that. A painting. A well crafted piece that, no matter how skilled the artist, could never truly capture how distant and vague they felt when you were the one standing to the side. No matter how much experience the painter had, they'd never be able to express and show how this poor excuse of a family felt to you, because they were only like that around you.

Maybe you'd feel special if it didn't make you feel like you were wasting your life living like this...

Eventually, you were able to tear you eyes away from the painting. The moon beginning to rise as you were sure the Manor was becoming more empty than it usually was, as more of its visitors and residents left.

The painting itself was nice even if it was one of many that didn't include you, with the number of photographs without you in them being much higher. Honestly, it used to be one of your favorites despite how bittersweet you feel about it now.

You still remember that day, but that would be implying that you forgot the others.

Regardless, you managed to pull yourself away from the spot you had been stuck in for the few moments you were trapped inside your own head. You tried to make yourself feel a little better, and give yourself some reassurance that maybe tomorrow would be different some how, and if not? Perhaps the day after, and the day after that.

Yet it all failed as you passed by more and more memories. Some were events you had participated in, sure, but the pictures made it look like you were never there in the first place. Heartwarming moments littered the halls, but you only recall seeing them from a distance — or being aware that the moment had even happened only when you saw the picture be put up.

It was like the very universe was trying to send you a sign with your constant failures and your family's persistence, intentional or not, to keep you at a distance. You didn't even know if it was appropriate to refer to them as your 'family', and maybe it wasn't considering things, but you still weren't sure.

You had been fighting for a chance to talk with any of them about anything at all for the longest time, because you wanted to be a part of this family. You wanted to spend time with them and really give this 'new life' of yours a chance, but now that 'new' part of this life had worn off. It was hard and honestly more draining than it was rewarding at this point, but you still wanted to give it a try.

Sure, it had been years at this point and now you were just about to go into college, and when you had first arrived here you weren't even middle school, yet little to no progress had been made — you never gave up. You haven't given up. So maybe you could try for a little longer? Just... a little bit, not too much this time, and figure something out?

You almost felt a little sense of hope return to you, no matter how redundant and helpless this situation felt and seemed. Yet it all came crumbling down again when you passed by one of the rooms, and saw something taped to the door.

It was a flier for your performance. One that would be happening soon.

Since your siblings began to pay less and less attention to you as time went on, with your conversations with them growing even shorter, you opted to just tape fliers of your upcoming performances on their doors. Though only the performances you'd thought they'd enjoy, and just hoped that they would show up, if they wanted to, when you stepped onto that stage and approached the instrument you'd be playing for the evening.

You tried texting and other forms of communication at first, but those quickly stopped working and so you just opted for this, and of course it was just as effective as the others.

Alfred was really the only one who listened to your music when you performed, and you only knew that because you caught him playing one of the live performances you had done on the television one day. He not only going out of his way to record the performance, but also trying to find the channel it was broadcasted on.

Ever since you've tried to give him the correct channel number when you do live performances, but that still didn't feel like enough. You loved and appreciated Alfred from the depths of your heart and soul, but what would it take for one of your siblings or close family friends to notice you like that? What would it take for your supposed father to even care to listen to your music? To watch a performance? To not turn you away?

It was only in that moment did a new emotion fuel you. Crawling it's way up your spine as you carefully took the flier in your hands, looking it over before ripping it off the door.

This. This one small thing was all you wanted from them. Over everything else, you just wanted to see one of their faces, one time when you looked out to the crowd when you performed — but every single time, all you saw were strangers.

Every charity event, every gala, every party- that's all you were surrounded by, strangers. Even when you caught small glimpses of them, they were always doing something else, and completely off in a totally different world than your own. That distance along creating a large void-like gap between you and them, and yet it only ever continued to grow. Even when they stood next to you, it was like you couldn't be further apart.

The reality of everything was crushing. Near deadly as you could feel your chest and lungs tighten, with your fingers digging into the paper enough to tear it apart, and reaching your palms as they formed crescent moons, soon drawing blood. Yet nothing could compare to the weight of your heart, and how heavy it felt to carry in your chest.

As you finally moved on from the door, your mind raced. Memories and flashbacks filling your head as every word and notion flashed before your eyes. Barely even paying attention to where you were going, but not caring enough to pay attention.

Every dismissal and excuse thrown your way. Every head shake and blank look. Every confused look, and realization that you were standing there the entire time. Every birthday that passed with the same wish never being granted. Every celebration spent on your own. Every message left on read. Every note ignored. Every time you were forgotten. Every time you were left behind. Every time you brought yourself home, and every time they never noticed. Every night wasted, trying to come up with different things to do only for all of them to turn out fruitless. Everyday that 'maybe' never cones true. Every time you looked out to that sea of strangers, hoping to see someone you recognized, only to find none. Every hour you wasted trying to do something for them while they never once thought of you.

Maybe you'd cry if you could. Then again, maybe not.

You already had spent too many tears over failures you recovered and grew from, and hardships you faced and fought. You've already cried just a little too much during those night you just couldn't handle being so alone, in such a big place anymore. Besides, you've cried enough over people who've never once thought of you. Who never once tried to make time to even see one of your performances, or even allow you to spend a few minutes in their space.

You've given them enough, you think. Especially since after you spent years trying to just make it two thirds of the way — they couldn't even reach that one third of the gap you couldn't. They didn't even try, at least not anymore, and after you had tried to make it easy. Yet, you only hurt yourself in the end.

They never cared about you, and maybe they did once upon a time, but good does that do now when you're trying to go out of your way to make things convenient and easier for them, only for them to skip out on you anyway. No text, no call, no message, no indication, nothing. Just pure silence.

Maybe you were asking for too much, but was it really so bad to want to be loved? And by the people who are supposed to be your family no less?

Hah, who are you kidding at this point. You've just been living in a house full of strangers, and you're the only one who hasn't seen it yet. They've already long since cast you out, and it's only now have you come to truly realize it.

Especially now, as you stand in front of the foot of the door to the music room. Staring at the knob as if it'll turn itself.

You weren't surprised, honestly. Playing music had quickly become an amazing outlet for you, and you had always come here to seek out what little your family couldn't give you; comfort. So it was no wonder that as you collapsed mentally, you had subconsciously brought yourself here.

And yet, only one thought entered your head in that moment.

'They don't deserve to hear my music.'

Perhaps it was now that you decided they had lost the privilege to do so. After all, ever since you had started having performances, even ones in front of wealthy crowds, your 'family' had seemingly been avoiding them like the plague. Never daring to even attend one, for whatever reason, and sure you could understand why they didn't attend the ones you performed at night — but they couldn't use that excuse anymore. You have strictly been playing during the after noon, and at sunset at a push, for over three years now. You've been playing in front of crowds and releasing music for four.

So, you turned away, walking off to your room as your thoughts still stormed. Anger fueling you as you barely remembered storming into your room, collecting any valuables and belongings you had and stuffing them into a bag or two. Not caring about clothes, and only what you deemed important and meaningful to yourself as you just grabbed and shoved everything into a bag if you could.

You could clearly tell now that you obviously weren't wanted, and that no one here even wanted to do the smallest things with you. That even asking to just spend a few minutes with them was too much. So you were doing the only sensible thing, and getting the hell out of here. Moving so quickly that your breathing became uneven, but you didn't stop until you had packed everything you needed, or was important to you in some way.

You only really had a second thought about all this when you were at your window, just about ready to jump out until you paused for a second.

Looking back at the door to your room, you couldn't help but hesitate. There was only ever one person in this entire Manor who treated you like family, and actually put in effort to not only be with you, but to indulge themself in your passion. That met you at the half way mark, and even went a little over sometimes. Since even if everyone else had ignored you — Alfed was there, even if despite all of his efforts you still couldn’t handle this, and maybe that was also your own fault in some way.

You still didn't want to stay, you couldn't anymore, but shouldn't you at least say goodbye? Maybe? After everything... at least he tried.

...

You settled for second best.

Quickly, you grabbed a flashcard and wrote down something before pocketing it and moving back to the window. You may not have any equipment for this kind of thing, but you still managed to scale and work your way around the wall, and managed to reach the window to Alfred's room.

You took a little peak inside, and when you saw that he wasn't there, you opened up the window just a bit, place the small note on the windowsill, and closed it. Then, you skillfully and carefully made your way down, and snuck off to Gotham City. Making your way to a friend's place as you crashed there for the night.

Never once did you look back.

Nor did you ever feel inclined to.

------

Later that night, when Alfred read the note, all it said was:

I'm sorry, Alfed. - Y/n

Just with that alone, it was like he understood everything despite the little that was said. All he could wish you was luck, and that you'd be safe wherever you went.

Suddenly, just like that. The nights where melodies would lull the residence of the Manor to sleep, and bring a temporary, mellow peace to all who heard such a tune, were long gone...

Guess they'll just have to find it, and bring it back.

--------

Kind of rushed at the end there, hope it isn't too bad for a first post. There's probably a lot of mistakes, so apologies for that.

[reveluving]

mini batmom thought of the day!

🥧 fuck work. i just want to bake with cass.

🥧 if my baby wants me to make a microwave mug cake or some dessert that I can't even pronounce with her, then im not questioning it. i'll put everything down, and we'll immediately be in the kitchen.

🥧 and then when bruce comes home, the three of us would share the dessert together. him still in his work shirt, his blazer laid on the other side of the counter while i feed him a spoonful of the treat. then we can praise our daughter's baking, even if she needed me to tell her what to do from the recipe book.

🥧 i just want to take photos of the final product, then show it to my staff/coworkers and praise my daughter's work like the proud mother i am.

🥧 bonus: making extra batches for when the rest of the family comes home/visits!

check out my batmom m.list!

[wandalfnation]

A Simple Favour

Pairing: Bruce Wayne X Reader

Word Count: 1.5k+

Rating: PG

Summary: This is the story of a budding relationship between a man and a woman. A woman who owes a very dangerous man a very, very big favour. 

Warnings: Nothing so far!

Gotham city. One of the biggest cities in the world. Every second a million different things were happening. Both good and bad. You? You’re almost sprinting down the street as your hand is gripping your hat to keep it on your head. 

You surely look a mess, with your fly away hairs, the steady trickle of sweat running down your forehead and your mislaid clothes. Yet, the second you run into the cafe, his eyes light up. The corners of his mouth turn up into a smile as he stands up from the small table, waving you over. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late, Bruce. You know how hectic work can be.” You’re in the middle of hurriedly apologising when he places his hand on your shoulder. 

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t waiting long.” 

You let out a breath, taking a second to gather yourself as you sit in the seat he held out for you. Sitting back down, he pours you a glass of water. 

“Was it Richard again?”

“Yep,” your words sound more like a groan. “I don’t know what he has against me, it’s like he has a vendetta or something.”

Bruce chuckles, sipping at his own glass. The two of you had met around a year ago at a fundraiser. You’d been loitering around the buffet table when he walked in. You hadn’t been paying attention as everyone’s eyes were drawn to the door. You did, however, hear the murmurs going around the room. 

“Gosh, Bruce Wayne with another woman! Will he ever settle down?”

“Late, as always.”

“You know, I heard he’s going broke! Apparently he gives too much away to charity.”

You’d never seen The Bruce Wayne before but he wasn’t difficult to pick out from the crowd. What, with two Russian models hanging off his arms and a cocky, know it all, smirk plastered on his face, you would’ve recognised him from 100 miles away. 

You wish you could say he glanced into your eyes and you instantly knew he was not what he seemed. That he was putting on a playboy persona. But, he didn’t. In fact, he didn’t glance your way once, not even when he came over to grab something from the table. It was like you didn’t exist. 

Luckily for you, these gatherings had never been your thing. You’d come and stayed for an appropriate amount of time, so it was soon after that you were heading for the exit. 

Saying a quick goodbye to your coworkers, you left through the grand doors. Only, you were halfway down the grand steps when you realised you’d left your purse at the buffet. You resist the urge to smack yourself in the face, how could you be so forgetful?

Turning around, you were about to run up the steps when you ran directly into something. 

Well, someone. 

You felt your breath catch in your throat, as your eye trailed up the wide chest to the blue eyes staring down at you. 

Realising it was Bruce Wayne, you jump back and instantly start to apologise. Now was not the time to get on the bad side of Gotham’s most powerful man! 

“I’m so so sorry, I should’ve been looking where I was going. But I left my purse in there and was so caught up in my th-“

In your rushed words, you’d missed the twitching of Bruce’s lips. 

“Don’t worry, in all honesty it was my fault. I apologise.”

His words catch you off guard. Wasn’t he supposed to be some obnoxious prick? 

Blinking a few times, you direct your eyes down to your shoes. “I-It’s okay.”

There’s a moment of silence but for some reason, it doesn’t feel awkward. 

“So, I’ve been to a lot of these things and have never run into you before.” He says, stepping back slightly. 

“Ah yes, I actually moved here last week. I’m from New York but got the opportunity to come work here for Mr Dwight Halbert.” 

Bruce hums. “Well, I better be going but I hope you settle in well.”

You can’t stop the disappointment from flooding your chest. This is ridiculous, you’ve only just met the guy! So what if he had beautiful eyes? And the most sculptured body you’d ever seen? And a voice that felt like honey?

“Oh, okay. Have a good night Mister Wayne.” You shyly smile, looking away as he turns around and heads down the stairs. 

He just gets to the bottom when he faces you one last time. “I hope to be seeing more of you.”

His words, although simple, leave a smile on your face for days to come. At least you know how he gets all the European models. 

“Y’know, I could totally get him fired.” Bruce says, hiding his smile behind his mug. His words bring you back to the current time, the cafe, your tardiness. 

“If only I didn’t have a moral code.” You sigh, shaking your head. 

Bruce chuckles, handing you a menu. 

Your ‘lunch date’ went well, as usual. After meeting him at the fundraiser, you found yourself randomly bumping into him. Three bus stops, two trains and six aisles later. Places he usually never goes to, but you don’t need to know that. Soon after, he asked you to lunch. Casual, of course. 

You’d been meeting up on a weekly basis since. 

You both order your food and get to chatting. At this point, you feel like you know everything there is to know about Bruce Wayne. Yet, you feel like you’re only scraping the surface. Looking into those eyes, you just knew that there was something underneath. Something that very few people got to see. 

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a tintsy, tiny, crush on the man. What, with those eyes, muscles and big strong arms? He could be a male model. Then there’s the way his eyes crinkle up when he smiles at you. How he gently lays his hand on your back in a crowd, a tiny gesture of public intimacy that makes you feel warm and safe. The way your name rolls off his tongue, like it was made just for him to speak. 

Okay, maybe you’re totally whipped for him. 

You try to stop the tug on your heart as you realise the undeniable truth. He certainly doesn’t like you like that. He merely sees you as a close friend. I mean, after six months of casual lunch meets, he surely would’ve said something if he wanted something more. Right? (models lol)

Lunch comes to an end far too quickly and you’re left already yearning for the next chance you get to see him. Glancing into your handbag, you reach for your purse. That isn’t there. 

“Ah shit,” you sigh, closing your eyes in frustration. “I left my purse at work.”

“That’s okay,” Bruce smiles. “I’ll pay.”

You go to resist but he’s already standing up. “But that means you owe me a favour.”

You suck in a breath as you instantly picture that moment from all those years ago. The green hair, purple suit, manic laughter and the inarguable fear you felt. A shiver runs down your spine as your face drops. For a second, you go white as a sheet. However, you quickly recover. The moment finishes as soon as it starts, as you quickly lift your lips up into a smile. It’s so brief that any normal person would’ve missed it. But not Bruce. 

His eyebrows furrow in worry, as he’s struck off guard. He goes to comfort you when you suddenly stand from your seat.

“T-Thank you Bruce.” You stumble over your first few words but regain your composure swiftly. “I’ll shout lunch next time.” 

“Of course.” 

That’s another thing you like about Bruce. He never makes you feel like less when it comes to money (or anything, really). The first time you met for lunch he tried to pay on your behalf but you denied him, insisting that you were equals and therefore, you could pay for your own meal. He caught on quickly and has happily split the bill with you ever since. You often found yourself forgetting just how loaded he is. He never used his money in a bragging type way and if it weren’t for the expensive cars or luxurious suits, you wouldn’t even know he was the richest man in Gotham. 

After paying the bill, you and Bruce say your goodbye and head off in different directions. It was always bitter when you were forced to part ways but what else could you do? It’s not like you were his girlfriend. You couldn’t just meet him at Wayne Manor and spend the night together.

You’re pulled from your upsetting thoughts when you receive a phone call from an anonymous number. Letting out a quick sign, you pick the phone up and go to speak, when you hear it.

“Hello lovely.”

You’d recognise that voice anywhere.

Stopping your hand from shaking too much, you take in a breath, and try to calm yourself down.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” The question is followed by laughter. A laugh much too dramatic for such a simple joke. If it can even be called that.

“I do have the right number, don’t I?”

You feel a shiver with each syllable. 

“Yes.” You finally get your voice back and reply. “Are you finally using your favour, Joker?” 

[demigoddessqueens]

No because why was he so damn bratty and such a mood 😆 😂

[queenmxkealson]

I’ve decided to change a face claim for my Elizabeth Wayne series….so Jason Todd’s face claim is now jenson ankles, he voiced Jason in under the red hood and he’s hot so a win win.

This pose screams Jason Todd

Then this photo

Also the voice, so for the rest of my fics he’s gonna be face claim, also for my Jayroy lovers im glad to announce that Jason and Roy will be together.

[currymariana]

GUYS, I' AM BACK!!!!

Actually, I never left; I just struggled to find the motivation to write again. I was feeling unhappy with my writing style and constantly comparing myself to others, thinking things like "they're so much better than me" or "that's how you should write" or "you suck," and those kinds of things. I wasn't frustrated with my story, but with how I wrote it.

But after a while, I realized a few things: English isn't my first language (heck, it's not even my third); I'm not a professional writer; this is just a hobby, and if there are people who enjoy it, it can't be all that bad. I was being too hard on myself for no good reason. 'The tear in my heart' is a story I've had in mind for a long time, and I wish to share it with anyone who's interested. I've every bullet point mapped out from the beginning to the end; now, I just need to shake off my laziness and self-criticism and actually write it. And I don't even know if people are still interested.

With that being said, I've decided to make some changes. From now on, I'll be rebranding the entire aesthetic of the story, possibly even reconsidering the title (it started to sound a bit tacky to me - but i would like to hear your opinions) and updating th cover too. I'll be changing some scenes just to ease my mind, but these won't alter the storyline at all.

I don't even know if anyone is even reading this; or if it matters to you. Yet I'm writing this for myself and perhaps help someone going through a similiar thing. Don't be too hash on yourself; this is meant to be enjoyable, so embrace the fun. If you want to write  a cheesy story or a serious one, follow your heart. We're not earning from this; we are fans who write fiction (or make arts) for others fans. If it's not fun anymore, it's okay to let it go. We're not flawless, and neither are our content. But do what's best for yourself —I extend this advice to writers, artists, and all who engage with this form of expression.

I'm sorry for the lengthy text, but I felt it was necessary only to express myself but also to explain  and express my gratitude to everyone who enjoys or has ever appreciated "The Tear in My Heart." You guys are absolutely the best; thank you for everything. And for those still here... I hope you'll enjoy this new phase.