#Batfam x reader

[oddlylovingaddiction]

Okay someone needs to write about this, you know those neglected batfam reader stories?? Hear me out on this…

You’ve grown up with the batfam, an accidental one night stand your mom had with Bruce, she died (as one does) and you get sent to live with your father Bruce.

It takes a bit but you quickly get used to being ignored after years of it happening. It’s more like you are a stranger to all of them, you were a regular civilian so you couldn’t relate to their secret bat duties, I mean when your entire family fights crime but you, you’re gonna miss out on bonding opportunities.

As you get older you spend time out of the house more, nobody cares cause nobody gives a fuck. And the more you get older the longer you spend outside, 1 day, 3 days… 1 week…. 5 months, 1 year etc.

Until one day you come back after 2 years, 8 months pregnant. Hell breaks loose.

“What’s that?” Damian says pointing to your very obvious pregnancy bump scrunching his face up confused.

“An alien, no use your head. What does it look like?” You reply annoyed, everyone is staring at you like you’re some sort of alien that just started speaking English. To be fair, it was kind of like you were. A male dominated family, where only the father was the only one bringing home biological and nonbiological children left and right, now all of a sudden you come home pregnant? That’s probably pretty alien to them.

“Listen I’m only here because I had a fight with my husband.” You sigh before Dick squeaks out “HUSBAND?” Like that was the most shocking situation.

Actually the most shocking part was who your husband and the baby’s father is, which you deliberately avoiding telling them about him. Until one night your husband breaks into the Wayne residence determined to win his lover back. 🤭

[sangunary]

YANDERE BATFAM x NEGLECTED READER

-Hush now crybaby.

SYPNOSIS: When your family only cherish you after your death.

Warning: Child neglect, bullying,violence, gore, death.

\\ Part 1 // \\ Part 2 //

You were the blood daughter but not the same as how Damian was, you were from a simple one night stand your father had... A mistake.

Ever since your mother left you behind with your suppose Father your life took an unpleasant turn.

Your life with your father was supposed to be colourful and exciting afterall you've been watching the other kids playing with their Fathers in the park. You remembered how envious you were back than, how everybody have a sibling to talk about, but for you? It wasn't that much of a talk on your end and you felt boring.

It broke your little heart when you realised that... Family really suck.

If it wasn't true than you wouldn't be standing alone on the stage while everyone else have their father's by their side.

It was supposed to be a father daughter day.

You inform him yourself even picking out a new dress for the special occasion with Alfred but your Father wasn't even near sight.

You were holding back your tears, gripping onto the end of your new dress looking at the ground.

Each time your heart pounds against your ribcage you could feel the agonizing pain that sent shock throughout your whole body.

The tears in your eyes were filling, dangerously close to bursting out. Yet you tried your best to not spill even a drop of tear.

Everybody called you a crybaby, but you weren't a crybaby just- it's hard to understand why you even cry ay times.

It wasn't your fault your poor heart couldn't handle their harsh word... It's not your fault your heart is fragile, it just needed some love and maybe a tint of understanding to fix it.

"Im sorry kid, I can't bring you to the park on Tuesday, me and little wing made an arrangement that we would go to the museum" Dick words ring inside your ears.

"But you said- you promised me that you'd bring me to the park... last sunday, I ask first" You replied, your hand's wrap around the little bear that you were going to give to your older brother... To thank him for bringing you to the park.

You couldn't help but feel a terrific ache inside your heart.

It wasn't fair, Damian asked today and you already asked last Sunday! And Dick and Damian already went to the museum together last monday...

"Im sorry but... Damian you know how he is, he's just cold and opportunities like this never come often, you have to understand. You're a big girl" Dick reminded you.

You couldn't help but let out a little huff. Damian that Damian this when was it ever about you. Even on your birthday Dick always brought present for him!

You remembered how Dick gave you a silly bunny doll abit chewed on, said it was his dog old/favourite doll... While Damain received a literal book signed by the very author on your birthday!

"You... promised first!" You spit back.

You were on the verge of crying spilling it all out. You grip onto your doll as you looked at the ground a drop of tear fall from your eyes and land on the marble floor.

And that's when you heard the disappointed sigh from your older brother.

The floor was clean enough to the point you could see your own pathetic face... Face red and eyes watery... You look ugly.

"Kid look... See this is why I choose Damian, you're too... spoiled, you can't just cry to get what you want. If you don't change this behaviour I won't go out with you"

"I-"

"No 'I', you're extremely spoiled and Damian isn't. This is why I don't want to go out with you, Damian is somewhat more shameful than you"

You swallowed your Saliva, staring into the marble. Tears began to rain as you couldn't stop them from spilling, you wipe your tears with your hands which wasn't helping.

You sniff and hiccup not daring to even look at Dick.

It was very clear who the favourite was from the beginning. Even if you were to get stab Damian would be the first they check on for any scar or scrab.

Every night you would weep inside your room or bathroom, grabbing onto anything and wrapping it around you to envision the warmth of comfort.

"Jason?" you called out. You only called out because you were on the verge of crying and you could smell the cigarette and you knew only Jason smoke.

"Jay?" you called out again, walking towards the balcony, you're in desperate need of comfort now. It was your birthday yet nobody remembered even Alfred forgot it.

It was terrible, the only thing you asked for was a little family dinner together having fun not everyone forgetting your own existence.

"Ja-"

"I heard you the first time"

Your hand's were twiddling with eachother, showing a clear sing you were somewhat anxious.

"Could you hug me? Please"

You cried out looking up at the older male.

You could never forget to say please cause last time it didn't end up well for you. They called you mannerless and even insulted your mother! You couldn't quite understand what Damian was speaking but he called a shame saying you ruin the perfect blood! to your face! Infront of everybody... Just because you forgot to say something!

"You're too old for one"

"I don't mind, just once please... it's my-"

"not everything have to be about you, princess"

Your smile flattered into a frown, when Jason first started calling you princess you were excited and extremely happy thinking he saw you as an amazing princess... Turns out that he only see you as a spoiled little girl... You heard it yourself.

"Just- it's my birthday and I thought a hug would be a very nice gift"

You spoke bravely again, maybe if you were persistent he might give up and hug you?

"...I don't want to hug you or acknowledge you, I don't want to hurt your little feelings but, do not indulged yourself with me. Is that clear?"

"Yeah... sorry"

Without a word you left the room, walking towards yours... Jason was compared to other's very good to you: he usually ignored your presence which was alright.

Before your reached your room you had to walk pass tim's and he was home but locked up again doing whatever he wished.

You could hear him mutter something from outside and you had a very nice idea.

After abit you knock on his door, your hand's wrap around a cup of coffee which you made yourself!

You knocked again. Nothing happened.

You knock thrice... Not even a sound.

Just than you decided to invite yourself in, afterall everyone in the family can definitely do that. You've never seen them knock to enter Tim's room.

"Tim?" you called out poking inside you check if he was there. Cause last time when you enter his room he went out the window, you found it funny.

The room was dark and the only source of light being the computer in which he was so absorb into.

Without thinking you went inside not forgetting to close the door.

"I made you coffee!" you announced to him.

"Thanks"

"...What are you doing" you asked hoping to atleast have a little conversation with him...

"Adult stuff" Tim was very vague.

"Can I se-"

"Im busy, put the coffee on the table and leave"

"Alright..."

You did as he asked and went towards the door and before you could even leave you watch as Tim throw the whole mug into the bin.

He definitely knew you were still in the room afterall he was smart he should know that. But, you didn't even speak up just suck it up and leave the room.

And as soon as you close the door, from the coner of your eyes you saw Damian. Looking at you directly.

Damian was bold and said lot's of bad stuff to you, as a result you spent half your day's avoiding him and as usual you tried avoiding him but... he stopped you.

"Where have you been?" His tone was surprisingly calm.

"Urm... I- was ugh..." You didn't know what to say? Told him that you were avoiding him and getting grounded or just yourself more of a victim than ever.

"You can't speak now?"

"I... sorry"

"Happy Birthday"

You couldn't even contain your shock face. Damian remembered your birthday? That's odd but very nice.

"Thank you!"

You couldn't help it, Damian of all people remembered your very existence... You felt important and that's all you need.

"There's a gift for you... Inside your room."

"Thanks! Im so... I thank you so much! I'll go check it!"

Before he could speak you ran towards your room all your tears gone now and you were filled with joy and excitement.

The moment you open the door to your room your heart dropped.

"..."

Your room was in ruined... Your heart dropped as you walk inside, your bed was wrecked your clothes were gone... most importantly the only picture of your mother was gone.

"What did you do?!"

You turned back, Damian was leaning against the door frame with that cocky grin on his face.

"Im helping you grow out your crybaby phase."

"What...?"

"See, crying again. Is that your only talent to cry until you get attention? Pathetic"

Without thinking you launched at him, it turn into a brutal fight but with Damian skill you were no match. He wasn't not going to pity you and you knew.

It took atleast two family members to seperate you two and stop the fight.

Jason was holding you by the hair but he wasn't pulling on it just silently threating you.

Everybody else were checking on Damian completely ignoring the fact that Damian punch you so hard your nose was bleeding.

And ever since that day everybody in the family saw you as the troublesome kid and whenever anything bad happened it was always your fault.

Not to mention how they even take a step further in ignoring you.

Every family movie night you would sit alone while everyone else sit in this big couch cuddling and giggling together. Even during Tag they completely forgot about you... Saying you were too old to play tag with them which made no sense...

Alfred was suddenly busy whenever you needed him and sometimes you had to walk home during a cyclone/rain because Alfred was busy.

Bruce become more strick and because of that your friends at school didn't even want to talk to you. Saying that as much as they wanted to be friends it to them it seems as you were ghosting them. You tried explaining even crying and begging humiliating yourself further... They never even dare to looked at you.

Everyday kept getting worse and you didn't even know what you did wrong.

You finally snapped out your thoughts and looked around... The same stage and same faces just- Bruce was still not present.

Salty tears stream down your face as you couldn't hold it in anymore. Everybody just stared at you and before your teacher could even ask you aside you ran.

You didn't know where or what your destiny was, your leg just moved on their own.

And before you knew it something hard hit you and your light were cut short.

From that day you found out you died, unfortunately you didn't went straight to haven and instead forced to stay on Earth.

You watched as your family finally acknowledged you. Always visiting your grave and even crying when nobody were around.

You felt happy, they finnally loved you!

But all it took was your life for them to realise their fault.

This Suck So MUCH.

[voxslays]

[hattersrabbit]

Can you do Jason Todd x Fem Reader?

Imagine Jason inviting her to dinner at Wayne’s manor

WARMTH OF A HOME

jason todd x reader | sfw

CW! fem reader, good parent bruce supremacy, fluff all around, attempt at humor

Summary! Jason makes a promise to take you to Wayne’s manor for dinner to meet his family. He feels he may regret it (spoiler he does until he doesn’t)

thank you for the request! the drama and chaos is on the horizon 🙌

“I wanna meet her Little Winggg!”

“Fuck off-“

“Don’t be like that!”

Jason pushed Dick off of him. He hated that his face was flushed red as Dick boasted how they should meet his girlfriend, you.

“I would too like to meet this woman you’ve acquainted yourself with, Todd.” Damian asked, while looking like a gremlin.

“C’mon Jaylad!” Steph mused with teasing smile with bright teeth.

“Fuck off all of you!” Jason seethed. Looking redder than ever which caused a laugh out of everyone.

“I’d like to meet her if that’s okay?”

Jason stilled and turned to find Bruce with Alfred and hopeful smiles on their faces. “I’d love to meet the girl you’ve so dedicated yourself too. From what you’ve said it sounds like she’s a very sweet girl.”

Curse Bruce and his sweet talking ways.

So now he found himself dressing up quite nicely and you in a beautiful red dress. The same color as his mask.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” He asked slowly with a grimace on his face. You simply blinked and smile. Your hand curving to cup his face to turn towards you.

“Yes. It’s your family and they love you. Despite whatever you’ve done or they’ve done you still love them and they love you. Made you into the man I love now and today.” You mused him. With a kiss of the lips Jason felt like he fell in love with you all over again.

Once again he asked himself how he got someone like you in his arms.

So there you have it. Jason stood with you hand in hand at Wayne Manor and in front of those humongous doors.

“You’re shaking.” You commented with a sly smile. “You’re nervous.”

“So are you-“ Jason mused back with a scowl. A teasing one as he came to look at you. Once again feeling as if he was undeserving of such a beauty like you.

“You’re scared too. I may have been a crime lord and may have died young but I can still see that you’re nervous too.”

“Damn you caught me!”

He chuckled seeing you act so dramatic. Your hand on your head and other on your chest. Eyes closed where he could see the glitter of your makeup.

His eyes gravitated to your lips which were a shade of red. “Always trying to tempt, dont’cha?” He pulled your waist. You giggled in response.

“Anytime I wear red it’s got you acting up. Behave yourself or you’re getting nothing tonight.”

“You little minx-“

The door opened after Jason rung the doorbell to reveal Alfred. “Good evening Master Jason, and you should be his girlfriend.” Alfred spoke carefully with a raised brow. Pride in his eyes when looking over at you and Jason’s arm around your waist.

“Yes I am. It’s great to meet you.” You bowed slightly with a smile. Jason could see that your smile was a bit tightened.

“It’s joy to have you here for dinner. Now come in before any of you catch a cold.” He opened the door further. Jason took your hand and let in you. The manor magnetic and beautiful; and stars in your eyes.

Perhaps Jason wanted to die right there because all of his siblings, whether or not they considered themselves Bruce’s children, were staring.

“What the fu-“

“Master Jason.”

You giggled watching the exchange between him and Alfred. His sibling’s eyes widening watching you laugh. The one to get up officially was Dick.

“Hello, I’m Dick. Our sweet Little Wing’s older brother.” He dramatically assessed to you. You smiled big and introduced yourself to him and everyone else.

“I wouldn’t use sweet…”

“Shut it Tim!”

“Yeah shut up Drake.”

“Hey! You promised you’d behave!” Dick attacked back with his pointer finger at Tim and then Damian.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Richard.” Damian crossed his arms looking away pouting. His ears red surely from embarrassment.

“Yeah what the demon said.” Tim grinned as he stepped up to you. “It’s great to meet the woman who will hopefully make him more tolerable.”

“I’ll shoot you.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Tim and Jason!”

You blinked with a blank smile on your face. Joy evident on your face while the three seemed to argue. It wasn’t bad and simply baseless banter.

“So how did Jason score you?” Stephanie came strolling up with Duke, Cass, and Damian at her side.

“He saved me from being mugged.” You replied with the shrug of your shoulders.

“Wow. Of course he did.” Duke laughed. “Always so protective.”

“Yes he is. I’m assuming you’re Duke? Stephanie? Cass, and then Damian? Am I correct?”

“How did you know?” Stephanie asked with wide eyes. The rest of the siblings had shocked looks (w/ exception of the three og robins who were still arguing).

“Jason always talks about guys. Praising and bragging about you guys.” You laughed seeing their faces. “You didn’t know? He’s funny like that.”

“Hey! Are you making fun of me?!” Jason caught on to what was going on. His arms pulled away from you and in the air. His face flushing red which caused a bright laugh from you.

“Oooh! What did he say!”

“Yeah what did he say!?”

“Todd, what did you relay to her?”

A clap silenced you all. Belonging to Alfred who has an amused smile on his face. “Dinner is served. Master Bruce is awaiting.” He bowed and allowed you all to follow.

“I just know B will love you.” Stephanie giggled.

“Now why would you say that?!” Jason shot back. The blonde ignored him and continued to skip down the hallway in her nice purple dress.

“God damn…”

“I like your siblings. They’re funny.” You mused into his ears. His face got redder as he turned to look at you. “You need to lighten up, baby. They tease you because they love you.”

“I hate that you’re always remind me.”

“It’s my job.”

When entering the dining room there was the man, Bruce Wayne. Dressed nicely in a navy blue turtleneck and black slacks. He turned to greet each of his kids as they filed into their seats.

Alfred aside to serve dinner which all looked delicious.

“Old man.” Jason walked up to him with you. Your hands tightening on his hands as Bruce looked at you with a blank face.

You greeted yourself to Bruce with smile.

The man smiled and grabbed your hand, and with a smile; “I’ve heard very good things about you. I’m glad to meet you.”

Ever the charmer.

“B.” Jason glared and Bruce didn’t seem bothered by it. “Yes Jason?” He seemed challenge the younger with just a single glare.

“Nothing.” You giggled and patted his shoulder. His face got even redder when Bruce ruffled his hair.

“You picked a good one, son.”

“Screw-Screw you old man!”

Bruce and you laughed at his reaction. Even behind him he could hear his siblings laughing. Even Alfred seemed amused beyond all hell.

“Let have dinner shall we?” Bruce asked with a wave of his hand.

“Yes we shall!” You pulled Jason along. His face red as his mask especially when he could hear and see Stephanie gossiping into Cassandra’s ear and her quietly giggling.

Absolutely humiliating.

But despite that Jason found himself smiling. You were smiling as you found yourself in a conversation with his siblings about how you guys met.

You knew everything and anything about what was wrong with him, and every dysfunctional familial moment and yet you loved him.

You loved his family.

Jason felt content.

Bruce was proud of him. He made it clear with a toast.

“To Jason and [__]! A bountiful future for them!” Out of his seat Bruce raised his glass. His siblings, and even Alfred joined in with a clinking of glasses.

He felt you on his shoulder, and red lips against his ear once again, “I told you everything would be alright.”

He huffed a laugh, “Of course. You’re always right.”

[spocks-husband]

Consider: One of the Batfam starts dating a civilian who happens to be a crime/mystery/horror/detective writer, eventually they know the vigilante identities of the family after things get serious, and yeah it's a lot to get used to but overall everything is pretty great!

Until at one point, y/n gives their partner a scene from a book they're working on for some feedback, and their partner is like "hmm. Yeah, it's pretty good, but your description of being stabbed isn't super accurate."

And then they go into this whole explanation of how it feels to be stabbed, which eventually is overhead by other Bats who are VERY offended because OBVIOUSLY all of that is wrong, and it starts this giant family debate over which adjectives best describe a stab to the kidney because all of them have experienced it at some point, Alfred comes in and adds his input because of course he's also been stabbed before, Damian and Jason have to be physically restrained from performing a demonstration-- and the entire time y/n is just sitting there like 😦

[cottencandy443]

#love this #jason Todd

Guard Dog vol.I

jason todd x fem!reader

aka don’t fuck with jason’s girlfriend

4 in 1 blurbs

vol. II

warnings: mildly creepy guys, standard protective bf methods

Jason’s good at shutting people up very quickly. You’d almost call it a talent.

He shuts you up with a kiss when you get stuck in a rant, or with a hug to calm your worried rambles.

And when you’re in an incorrigibly teasing mood, he’ll throw you over his shoulder and carry you back to your bedroom to really shut you up.

With other people though, he has…different methods.

You sit atop your kitchen counter, trading lazy kisses in between giggles with your boyfriend. He stands in front of you, hands massaging your thighs as he leans in for another. You happily oblige.

You break off the exchange to lay a series of sweet kisses on that spot under his jaw.

His head tilts back, letting out a groan so low you nearly miss it. “Sweetheart…” he warns.

“Sorry…” you resign with a sheepish smile.

A knock at the door bursts you out of your shared reverie. You press a kiss to his knuckles and hop down to start setting the table.

Jason gets the door, greeting the pizza guy with a nod as you shuffle around the kitchen. The delivery guy hands him a receipt, asking for a signature.

Jason uses the door as a surface to sign, giving the delivery guy an apt view into your apartment, where he sees you getting out plates in the kitchen. More noticeably, he sees you in your boyfriend's shirt, which rides up just a little bit when you stand up on your toes to reach the top cabinet. The lift of the shirt exposes the bottom of your underwear, though it falls back into place again just as quickly.

Now, lucky for this guy, Jason’s facing the door and does not see him checking you out in your own home. Unlucky for this guy, he has wildly misread the vibe of your relationship. Or at least your boyfriend.

“Man, how do you get anything done around here?” He jests.

Jason looks up at him, and the pizza man’s eyes tear away from your legs to meet his hard gaze. It does not take him long to realize his mistake.

“Try again.” Jason behests, arms crossed in front of him.

The pizza boy’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head, stuttering. “I—uh, I said have a good night.”

“Mhm.” He grumbles.

The pizza guy hands Jason the box with shaky hands and scuttles back down the hallway.

Thankfully, you didn’t seem to notice the exchange, but even so, your boyfriend still glowers down the hallway after him.

“Jay?”

His attention snaps back to you, demeanor changing instantly. “Yeah, baby?”

You’re sitting in your usual spot at the table, his chair empty and waiting just around the corner from you.

“Come sit.” You say, with eyes that might as well be hearts.

He gives a reassuring nod and kicks the door shut behind him.

You and Jason are sitting on the floor in his old room at the manor, your legs thrown over his. You lean up against his bed, asking him about posters on the walls and trinkets on the shelves.

His knee is propped up and your arm dangles across it, his hand in yours. He plays with your fingers and periodically leans forward to leave a kiss on them.

You’d just woken up less than an hour ago after spending the night post-gala, and it’s a peaceful, if not unusually quiet morning.

Dick shouts your name from another room, audibly booking it towards you. Yeah. That’s more like what Jason remembers.

He grumbles some annoyances, dropping his head against your intertwined hands.

Dick bursts into the room, clearly incredibly excited.

“What’s up, Dick?” You ask, calm as ever. Jason lets an unseen smile creep up, head still down.

Dick’s practically jumping up and down, “You gotta see the shit that Tim just found in the cave!” His face drops as he directs his gaze to Jason, “You’re not invited.”

“Thank God.”

Dick ignores him and grabs your wrist, yanking you up from the floor. This is one place where he differs from Jason—he’s not always quite so aware of his own strength.

His grip doesn’t hurt really, but it’s firm enough that you imagine there’ll be bruise marks there later.

“Hey.” Jason calls out, nodding his head to where Dick is holding your arm. “Ease up.”

Dick follows his gaze and immediately loosens his hold, apologizing to you before pulling you along once again (this time much more gentle).

You grin at Jason as he tugs you out the door, him returning it with an endeared smile as he watches you go.

Fuck he loves you.

Jason had a decent break from his night job for once, and was happy to let you drag him out to a bar for a little date. You’d been linked at the hip for most of the night, his hands maintaining their ever present home on your waist with yours rested on his thighs as you told him about your hectic day.

He’d usually prefer to stay in bed with you for as long as possible when he gets time off, but you’d looked so excited asking him to go out with you—he never stood a chance.

You look up into the mirror as you wash your hands, a strand of hair falling into your face as you do. You push it back behind your ear and smile to yourself, recalling the several times Jason had wordlessly done the same throughout the night as you rambled.

You make your way back to the bar, smile immediate on your face when you see your boyfriend. It gets replaced rather quickly though, when a man slides in front of you, cutting off your view of him.

“Hey there.”

You have to take a step back because of how close he decided to stand to you. He looks sober (enough) but wildly overconfident in whatevers about to happen.

"Let me buy you a drink, pretty thing."

Jason calls you pretty thing sometimes. It makes the blood rush to your cheeks and an inescapable smile creep up on your lips. When this guy says it, it makes you literally frown.

"Oh no, I'm okay, my—"

"You seem like a dirty martini kinda girl." He expertly ignores you, clearly trying and failing to make some kind of innuendo there.

Jason's sitting back against the bar, watching the interaction carefully. You still can’t see him, but he’s close and you can rest comfortable knowing he’s looking out for you.

With that reassurance, you don’t play this out quite as carefully as you would if you were alone.

"Look, I don't want a drink from you, thanks."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say to him because his face contorts quickly to mock-disgust that you figure is really just embarrassment.

“Hey, don’t be a bitch just ‘cause—”

You try to sidestep around him, thoroughly done with this interaction, but he grabs your upper arm harshly, pulling you to an abrupt stop.

Jason stands up real quick, yanking the guy backwards by his collar before you can even process what's happening.

Now, you know that Jason is an objectively intimidating guy. There's not many people that will come face to face with that absolute unit of a man and still decide to keep on trying him. However, you tend to forget that when you're so used to your gentle giant that only ever speaks to you kindly and touches you softly.

But his intimidating status becomes very apparent when the guy spins around, looks up at Jason, and immediately takes four steps back. He actually almost bumps into you in the process, not doing anything to tame Jason’s acute distaste for this man.

"Listen to me—back the fuck off before you get hurt."

“She—”

“I don’t give a fuck. Leave.”

The guy hesitates.

“Now.” Jason adjusts his posture to stand at his staggering full height, clearly with no qualms about putting him back in his place.

That does it for him, the man stumbllng away with half-committed mumbles of “whatever” or “something something lame anyway.”

Jason watches him until he walks out the door, before turning back to you.

He delicately takes your upper arm in his hand, pulling your sleeve up to search for bruising. But as harshly as he had grabbed you, it didn’t have the time to cause a bruise before Jason intervened.

“What’d he say to you?” Jason asks, brow furrowed as he inspects your arm.

“Nothing very interesting.” He looks at you mildly.

You smile and comb his hair back from his forehead, “Don’t worry about him. I’m good.”

He lets your arm go, and exchanges it for holding the back of your head, planting a kiss on your forehead.

You take his other hand and guide him back to your seats.

“Besides,” You look over his shoulder and let out a little shocked gasp. “Guess who just walked in.”

He gives you a questioning look before his face slacks, eyes widening in realization.

“No…” And you smile so brightly it almost makes up for what's coming his way.

You redirect your smile over his shoulder and give a wave to the door. Jason swigs down the rest of his drink, hand finding your waist once again.

“Jaybird!”

Jason’s still exhausted from patrol last night but he’d insisted on going with you to the bar to meet your friends. You’d tried to convince him that it was okay to stay in and rest tonight, you’d be fine. But it was a losing battle.

You suspect it has something to do with him not liking when you go out in Gotham at night, especially when you’re drinking.

So he hangs out in the background of the buzz, with you sat in front of him, in between his legs.

You’re talking it up with Roy, who’s been making jokes about how Jason’s “moody ass�� tricked you, “the ray of sunshine” into this relationship somehow.

You laugh, taking a sip of your drink. “Right, ‘cause you and Kori were in love at first sight.”

"Oh, fuck off." Roy jeers.

He doesn't say it with the cadence of a joke, but it is.

You know he's joking, he knows he's joking.

Jason, who very well may have been tuned out of the conversation up to that point, does not seem to know he's joking—or he doesn't care.

You don't need to look behind you to know that your boyfriend is in defensive mode, though the look of regret mixed with amusement on Roy's face gives a solid hint.

You hold your hand out to block Jason his path as he moves forward. He lets you stop him, though you're certain he could get past you without so much as blinking, no problem.

"Right. My bad, forgot your guard dog was here. Don't fuck off." Roy backtracks, hands up in front of him.

Jason just rolls his eyes, slouching back down. You reach behind you for his hand, giving it two squeezes. You know he’s tired, so much so that he almost punched his best friend for making a typical joke.

“Five more minutes, okay?” You say softly over your shoulder.

He nods at you blearily, and ducks his head down to rest on your back. You adjust your posture a little bit to make it more comfortable for him and continue on talking, his hand still in yours.

If he hadn’t fallen asleep so quickly, five minutes would’ve been five minutes, but instead it became something more like fifty.

He goes through patches where sleep isn’t always so welcoming, a phase he’s been in for the past couple of weeks. You’d been waking up to find the bed half empty, your boyfriend resigned to doing research on cases in an attempt to at least be productive while he’s awake.

You can’t protect him in the same ways that he protects you—you’re not a fighter or necessarily “intimidating.” But you can protect him like this, in these little ways. Letting him nap on you, making him close the case files and rest with you, holding his hand throughout the night so that when he inevitably has nightmares, he knows immediately that you’re still with him. That he’s safe.

So if he can get some much needed sleep while only costing you a stiff back tomorrow, you’ll happily take that deal as many times as he needs.

vol. II

[knuiui]

Guys i just have a thought..

What if a batfam w a neglected! Dress up reader?

BEAR WITH ME OKAY, What if Neglected! Reader being this uninteresting, boring and overshadowed Wayne child for the majority of their life. Their either ignored, brushed off or totally looked down upon *cough* Damian *cough*

Then suddenly they wake up then BOOM suddenly they see in front of them 【 Welcome to Bonnie's Dress up Dreamland 】 and reader is like looking at it like "wtf? Who's Bonnie?" and was suddenly thrown into PK and Dress up battles all through out their day and even worse? It gave them side quests to complete or else they die (lmao)

Like imagine, neglected! reader outfit battling it out in a dark alley, clearly crushing their enemies w their styling capability (infinity Nikki style) and to the outside perspective it's them talking and suddenly the gang leader dropped to the floor.

Reader: 【PK Victory】 .. *leaves after defeating the latest outfit battle they randomly triggered for the seventh time today*

Jason, observing from the shadows as the gangster that was threatening reader randomly drops to the ground: ????

[bunniotomia]

Hello fellow Batfam enjoyers.

I have a story idea that I want to leave open for anyone to use and it’d be batfam x neglected reader in an infected au.

I made a long ass post that was 90% rambling and 10% the actual idea and even the og story idea I had. It’s messy but I needed everything out.

Point being of anyone wants to write it please do. I’d love to see it come to life.

It’s a neglected reader that had enough and ran away from the manor at 16. She had started planning her departure 2 years before after a bad argument and knew she needed time to find somewhere else to live and cover her tracks after all her family are vigilantes and she believes they’d track her down only because she knows their identities. But she also thought she’d have lots of time before they realized she was gone.

The original plan was to linger in Gotham until she turned 18 and could legally change her last name and thus be completely free to do as she pleased. However the day after she settled into the abandoned warehouse she turned into a reinforced condo, the apocalypse kicked off.

There had been an infection of some sort going around but it wasn’t serious until then. So much so that the league can’t risk themselves due to reports of infected metas being able to use their abilities still and they already lost contact with some hero’s.

So Bruce calls the Batfam to the manor, which is reinforced and on its on power and water grid due to his paranoia long ago when he decided to be Batman. All the kids are home and arguing about whether or not they should be out there helping a dying world. Bruce has done many a headcount but all his children are there, are safe. None are still out on the streets. The house is reinforced to survive a lot. They’re all trained and have been checked. And yet that same paranoia is screaming. He’s forgotten, something important. What is it?

[sourcherrybites]

blurb …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ

Blurb abt teen Jason and teen! Fem Reader because I like silly stuff, and I don't want you to think I died. Both are around 13. Reblog if u like.

Puppy love! Jason who was crying in a janitor's closet. Why? Some kids in his class had pushed him in the cafeteria, making him trip and bump into his crush, which ended in her trail falling over her — mashed potatoes and gravy staining the perfectly ironed white blouse of her uniform and her shiny, brand-new shoes.

Puppy love! Jason who was so mad and embarrassed he just ran out of the cafeteria, hiding in the first place he found to let out all the building emotions in choked sobs and again once he was back in the Manor.

Puppy love! Jason who almost had a heart attack when Alfred told him his crush was calling the manor's phone to check up on him and told him she wasn't mad but she was worried about him.

Puppy love! Jason who stumbles with his words while apologising for ruining her uniform, making a nearby Bruce chuckle.

Puppy love! Jason who loses his mind when his crush asks him out.

[sirxaibs]

Batfamily X Batmom! Reader

ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ Someone Thought Of Meཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ

I feel like Tim has very little love. So how does he feel in a family thats so weird?

masterlist

Timmy timothy tim likes to journal his problems

ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ Journal entry- Shes always there. Written from the point of view of Tim Drake. In Tim Drakes Journal. Which Is my journal… Tim Drake… because it’s my journal?

When people think of Bruce Wayne, they think of Gotham’s crowned prince brooding, rich, charming in a suit. Maybe they even think of Batman if you’re one of the few people that actually know him, the knight in Kevlar, Gotham’s relentless protector. They forget, more often than not, that behind the cowl is just a guy made of jagged edges. The kind that can cut even the people he cares about most.

But her?

She was warmth. A reporter with fire in her blood and sharp questions at her lips. That’s how Bruce met her chasing down a story she didn’t know he was part of yet. She wasn’t intimidated by his name or the shadows that followed him. And when she found out he was Batman, she didn’t run. She pivoted. She didn’t want to be used by the Gotham Gazette to milk a headline about their relationship. So she left. Started something new. Told the stories of villains not to glorify them, but to show their truth. The people they used to be. The cracks that made them break. That was her power.

I didn’t meet her until later, of course. But I always knew of her. I still stayed with my parents at the time and since she stayed at the mansion i never really saw her. she was the one everyone talked about. Not just in passing, but with reverence. Even Bruce, in his own quiet way, would drop her name like it meant safety. And to Dick and Jason? She wasn’t just a stepmom, or “Bruce’s wife.” She was Mom.

Dick talks about her like she’s the sun. When he visits he always visits, at least once a week no matter where he is you can see it. How his whole face lights up just stepping into the manor and hearing her voice from the kitchen. You’d think he was back in the circus and just found his net again.

“She used to stay up for me, no matter what time patrol ended,” he told me once. “I’d come in through the balcony, boots muddy, bruised up, sometimes bleeding and she’d be in the kitchen heating soup. Always that look on her face like I’d just come back from war. Never lectured me like Bruce. Never told me to be more careful. Just… held me. Like that fixed everything.”

Dick never stopped calling her “Mom.” Not even during the rough years when Bruce pushed him too hard. Not when he moved out. Not when the Batcave felt colder than the Gotham River in winter. If anything, she was the reason he kept coming back.

When she got that small publishing deal to write about Harvey Dent’s past, Dick flew back from Blüdhaven just to take her out to dinner. No press, no big celebration. Just a booth by the window at her favorite Thai place and a bouquet that barely fit through the door. He said he owed her everything. “I don’t care if I’m not hers by blood,” he told me once. “That woman taught me how to hold on to who I am, even when everything else was falling apart.”

Then theres my other older brother. Jason’s love is different. It’s quieter.

Harder to see unless you’re looking close. He’s not good at the soft stuff. Not anymore. But with her, he tries. He never says “I love you.” I don’t think I’ve ever heard the words leave his mouth. But he’s always fixing stuff around her house. Not the manor her place, the little brownstone Bruce bought her because she hated the echo of the mansion. The place with the bookshelf she filled herself, the mismatched mugs, the heavy desk where she does her interviews. Jason comes by when she’s out running errands. Patches the leaky sink. Replaces the light in the hallway. Leaves a bag of her favorite tea on the counter. No note. No credit. But she always knows it’s him.

“She used to sit on the fire escape with me,” he told me once, when we were staking out some arms deal in the Narrows. “I’d be pissed off at Bruce, just raging. And she’d just sit there. Didn’t ask questions. Didn’t talk me out of it. Just sat and sometimes smoked a cigarette. One time I cried. Don’t remember why. But she didn’t flinch. Just put her hand on my back. Stayed until I fell asleep.”

He’d die before saying it out loud, but I think in a way… he’s more hers than he ever was Bruce’s. And when he came back when he was the Red Hood and he was full of grief and rage and bullets she was the only one who hugged him. Everyone else flinched. Even Bruce. But she opened the door, saw what he’d become, and said, “You look like hell, baby. Come inside.” And he did.

I remember the first time I met her. Bruce had just taken me in. I was still flinching every time he walked into the room, still unsure if I belonged in this broken, stitched up family. And then she walked in breezy and fierce, like she’d just come off a battlefield with coffee in one hand and her phone in the other. “You must be Tim,” she said, giving me a once over like she could see right through to my spine. “You eat?”

I hadn’t. She fixed a plate, sat with me, asked me about everything except my parents. I had just lost them at the time and that’s when I got it. Why Dick lights up around her. Why Jason will move heaven and earth to fix her sink. She’s home. Not the kind with walls and Wi-Fi. The kind with presence. With knowing how to say just the right thing without ever saying too much. With safety, and warmth, and late night soup and hair ruffles and sitting on fire escapes even when the kid next to you’s got blood on his boots. I think that’s why even Bruce… softens around her. She’s the one person who makes him feel safe.

When she got her first daughter, you can tell something changed in her. Cass didn’t talk much. Not in the early days. She was quiet in the way shadows were quiet always there, always watching, always slipping through cracks without a sound. Most people assumed she just didn’t want to talk. Or couldn’t. But I saw it different.

Cass spoke just not with her mouth. She spoke with her hands, her eyes, the way she’d tense or soften when you entered a room. But with her? With Mom?

Cass bloomed.

She’d lean on her shoulder when they sat on the couch. She’d grab her hand subtle, small, but full of meaning and lead her to the garden out back just to sit in the sun. I watched Cass laugh once, like actually laugh, cheeks lifted and eyes crinkled. I didn’t even know she could laugh like that. But it was because Mom had made some dumb joke about a rogue penguin at the zoo stealing someone’s purse. Cas used to flinch at affection. Now, she hugged her. Without hesitation. Leaned into her side. Signed things with soft smiles and the rare, quiet “Love you,” if no one else was around. She didn’t even say that to Bruce. Not really. But Mom? Mom got everything.

She knew how to talk to her. Never pressed. Never coddled. Just existed beside her with a kind of understanding that didn’t require words. I think Cass clung to that someone who didn’t need her to be anything but herself. Someone who didn’t treat her like a porcelain weapon. I’d never seen Cass so… safe. So full.

Then there was Damian. God. When Bruce brought him to the manor, I thought maybe we’d finally seen the worst of it. Turns out a ten year old assassin with an ego the size of Arkham was the cherry on top.

From the minute Damian showed up, he was a walking migraine. Arrogant. Condescending. Entitled in the way only someone born and bred to believe they were superior could be. But the worst part? He was cruel to her.

Not in the loud, tantrum way kids can be cruel. No. Damian was sharp. Precise. Calculated. His insults were surgical targeted and clean like a blade to the gut. “I don’t see the point in you,” he said once, arms crossed in the foyer, looking her dead in the eye. “You’re not my mother. You’ll never be her. Father had real women in his life before you.”

It wasn’t the first time he said it. Wouldn’t be the last. she….God, she just took it. Not because she agreed. Not because she was weak. But because that’s who she is. She let him be angry. Let him lash out. Let him burn himself on her because she knew what was underneath it all. But I saw it. I saw the way her shoulders slumped when she turned away. The way she stirred her tea a little too long in the kitchen. The way she lingered in front of Bruce’s old pictures of Talia that he put up for Damien. didn’t touch them, didn’t say anything, but looked like someone standing in a war zone, wondering if the ruins were prettier than she’d ever be. She never said it aloud. Never asked if she measured up. But we all knew the weight she carried. Bruce’s past wasn’t just shadows it was legacies. Legacies she was never meant to compete with. And Damian made sure she felt that.

I don’t know when that started to change. Maybe when she helped patch him up after his first solo patrol and didn’t say a word about the busted ribs. Maybe when she sat in the library and helped him with his handwriting because even deadly assassins have messy cursive. Or maybe it was when she found his sketchbook. hid it from everyone else, never mentioned it, just left him new pencils on his desk with a quiet, “You’re very talented.”

He stopped being so sharp after that. Still rude. Still Damian. But less… venomous. Like the poison had burned itself out and he was left kind of confused by the fact that she was still there. Because she always was. For all of us.

And then there’s me. The extra. The late one. I was never brought in because Bruce wanted to be a father. I was brought in because I figured out his secrets and then wormed my way into the cave, into the suit, into the family. I don’t know if I was ever really meant to be here. Not the way the others were. Me? I had parents. Not great ones. But they were there… until they weren’t. I didn’t grow up in an alley, or a pit, or the League. Sometimes I wonder if that’s why I feel so… replaceable. But she never made me feel that way. She saw me. She knew I overworked myself. Knew I never slept. Knew I spiraled when I wasn’t useful. And instead of pushing me to be better or telling me to slow down, she just… met me where I was. Once, I found a note in my backpack. Folded between mission plans.

“Youre the most amazing boy that i know, You my boy are going to do amazing things. I love you so much!!”

I never told her I found it. But I kept it. Still have it, tucked into my journal like armor.

I don’t know if any of us would’ve survived this family without her. Bruce taught us how to fight. How to fall and get back up. But she taught us how to rest. How to breathe. How to love without blood and history binding us. She fixed all of us. Bit by bit. Even when we didn’t know we were breaking. I don’t feel broken enough to deserve that kind of care. But she gave it anyway. Because that’s who she is. Because she was always there.

I heard her once, talking on the phone to someone. Maybe a friend. Maybe a source. “They’re not mine by blood,” she said. “But God help the world if they ever needed me. I’d burn down Gotham to protect any one of them.” That’s when I knew she meant me, too. if I had to tell this story about the Batfamily, about the ones who wear masks and hide pain and throw themselves into the fire night after night I’d start with her. Because Batman might have saved Gotham but she saved us.

ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ

Tim closes the journal with a soft thump, fingers lingering on the worn leather cover. His hand hovers just a second longer before pulling away. The room feels too quiet now like his thoughts are echoing louder without the scratch of his pen to distract him.

He pushes the chair back, the legs creaking on the old hardwood floors, and stands. His back cracks. How long had he been writing? Hours maybe. It’s dark out, the kind of heavy Gotham dark that presses against the windows like it wants in. The manor groans quietly in the silence, pipes murmuring and the wind brushing tree branches against the windows like fingers tapping to be let inside.

He walks out of his room, bare feet soft on the carpet as he pads through the hallway. The air feels heavier at night in the manor. Like all the ghosts that live in the walls are finally breathing.

I turned the corner after walking mindlessly and stared. There you were.

Back facing towards me, wearing one of those oversized, faded shirts Bruce always swore he didn’t miss. Standing in front of the stove, hair pulled up, humming something under your breath as you stirred with a wooden spoon like you were crafting alchemy and not just soup. And beside you, leaning against the counter, arms folded but eyes softer than I’d seen in weeks. Jason. He wasn’t wearing his jacket. Which was rare. His boots were off. Rarer. And he was smiling. Not the cocky half grin he used when he was about to pick a fight, but something quieter. Warmer. Something like a son sitting in the only place in the world where he felt safe.

You said something to him I couldn’t hear what but you reached up on your toes and smoothed his hair out of his eyes like he was five. He rolled his eyes, said something sarcastic, but didn’t pull away. If anything, he leaned into it. that was when Alfred walked by, hands behind his back, chin tilted slightly in amusement as he passed me. “You know the rule, Master Timothy,” he said, low enough not to disturb the moment in the kitchen. “She is the only one allowed in there. The rest of you have forfeited that right after the last… incident.”

I groaned.

“That was Damian’s fault,” I hissed back.

He raised a brow. “Was it Damian’s idea to flambé a Pop Tart?”

“Okay. Fine. That part might’ve been me.”

It was one of our dumbest ideas maybe not the dumbest, but it’s a crowded race. It started with a challenge. Damian, fresh off a smug streak and newly obsessed with culinary documentaries, claimed that my “American palate” had “eroded my taste and motor skills.” I told him I could cook circles around him. Neither of us could cook.

It escalated quickly. An Iron Chef style duel. Secret ingredient: eggs. Only, I dropped mine. Three times. Damian misread the baking powder as flour. Then I panicked and tried to “smoke” the scrambled eggs for flavor using a packet of incense from the guest room and a lighter.

Within ten minutes, the fire alarm was going off, Alfred had activated the emergency sprinklers, and the kitchen looked like something between a crime scene and a culinary apocalypse. Mom was the one to find us.

Standing soaked, flour covered, blinking through smoke. Damian holding a spatula like a sword. Me covered in what I hoped was yolk. You didn’t yell. That’s the worst part. You just… looked at us. Long and hard. Then let out a breath, pinched the bridge of your nose, and said, “Alfred, I assume this is why you told me to ban them from the kitchen.”

“Indeed, madam,” he replied grimly.

And that was that. Kitchen rights revoked. Except for you. Always you.

Now I stood there in the hallway, watching you and Jason from the doorway, unseen. He was telling you about something he saw on patrol a gang trying to smuggle rare books, of all things. You were laughing, that full body laugh that makes your shoulders shake and your eyes close, like the world could still be beautiful if you just tried hard enough. And Jason?

He was drinking it in. Like he’d been starved of this kind of love for years. Ever since he came back, you were different around him. Not overly careful like Bruce. Not tense like some of us had been. You just loved him. Loudly. Freely. kisses to the temple, touching his shoulders like you had to convince yourself he was still solid. Like you had to remind him that he was still wanted. Jason never said it but he melted under it. His edges dulled. His anger slipped. When you held him, when you gave him that smile that said “you’re home,” he softened. He belonged.

I swallowed hard. Stepped back, just a bit. Let the shadows take me. Because I’d never had that. Not in the same way. You loved me I knew that. But it wasn’t the same kind of fierce, smothering love. And maybe that was fair. I wasn’t broken in the way Jason was. Not born in blood like Damian. Not carved out of grief like Dick. Not silenced like Cass.

I was just… me. Smart. Quiet. Stable, mostly. I��d always felt like a thread sewn into someone else’s tapestry. Useful. Strong, even. But not the reason anyone stayed warm. in moments like this seeing Jason melt under your hands, seeing you pour every ounce of your soul into making him feel alive I couldn’t help but wonder if I was ever going to fit here. So I stepped away from the kitchen door.

ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ

The house was quiet again. The kind of quiet that only happens after everyone’s gone to bed or pretended to. I was curled up in the corner of the library, one leg slung over the arm of the chair, a thick old book cracked open across my lap. It wasn’t for patrol or mission planning. Just something to read. Something to fill the quiet so I didn’t have to think too much.

It was peaceful, until muffled voices filled the room. I blinked, tilting my head just enough to catch the low murmur threading in from the hallway. At first, I thought maybe Bruce had wandered into the Batcave again, but then I heard my moms voice. Whispering like someone trying not to wake a sleeping baby. Bruce responded, and you both laughed, low and secretive. I rolled my eyes and went back to my page.

I stopped caring about that kind of thing a long time ago. You and Bruce were always, in a word, gross about each other. Not the clingy, PDA gross… well yes the clingy PDA way but the kind where he’d brush your cheek mid conversation like it was instinct. Or the way you’d make him coffee without asking, and he’d pass you reports to look at because he trusted your opinion more than the board’s. It was… sincere. Intimate. Kind of annoying, honestly, when you were trying to eat cereal and Bruce kissed your temple like it was some kind of reflex.

But it was comforting too. Something solid. I was just starting to lose myself in the book again when

“Boo.”

“GAH!”

I launched the book about a foot into the air and nearly twisted my entire spine trying to figure out what demon had possessed the room. My heart rocketed into my throat as I whipped around, hand halfway to a batarang that wasn’t even on me. You stood there, grinning ear to ear.

“Tim,” you cooed, covering your mouth to stifle a laugh, “you should’ve seen your face oh my god, I think you levitated.”

“I almost hit you with Tolstoy!” I hissed, breath still catching up to my body. “Don’t sneak up on a guy in this house! I was ready to throw hands with a ghost.”

“Well,” you teased, “if it was a ghost, you’d be the only one I’d trust to outsmart it.”

I gave you a flat look, still massaging my neck. You sobered a little, stepping forward and tapping the top of my head gently. “Come on, kiddo. There’s something we want to show you. In the dining room.”

I blinked. “We?”

“I’m here too,” came Bruce’s voice from the hallway, in that terrible deep gravel whisper he clearly thought was somehow sneaky. You and I both turned to look at him as he peeked around the corner, trying very hard and failing to look inconspicuous.

I squinted at him. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he said too quickly.

You sighed and gently smacked his chest. “Why are you like this?”

“I’m building intrigue,” Bruce said with what I assumed was supposed to be a straight face. “It’s part of the plan”

“You’re ruining the surprise,” you whispered, dragging a hand down your face.

“There’s a surprise?” I asked slowly, eyes darting between the two of you.

Bruce’s expression didn’t change, but I could see the micro tension in his brow. He was lying. For the world’s greatest detective, the man couldn’t lie to his children to save his life. Every time he tried, he got this weird stiffness, like someone who’d never used human emotions before. You groaned again and took my wrist gently. “Come on. Just come to the dining room. Please?”

I stood up slowly, abandoning my book on the chair. “What’s going on?” I asked again, warier now. “Is this, like… an intervention? Did Damian break into the Tower again?”

“Nope.”

“Did Jason get arrested for vigilante loitering?”

“Not this week.”

“Are you going to make me touch grass?”

You snorted. “God, no.”

I sighed. “Alright. But if this is a trap, I want it on record that i died saying my parents were weird.”

Bruce just grunted. So I followed them. These two weird, overly affectionate, semi cryptic parents of mine one with crows’ feet from smiling too much and the other still pretending he didn’t smile at all. Down the hallway. Toward the dining room. Still completely, utterly confused.

The hallway to the dining room wasn’t long. It just felt long. Partially because Bruce was still trying to act like this wasn’t suspicious at all, and you kept elbowing him in the ribs every few steps. Partially because my nerves were starting to twitch under my skin. mostly because I could hear whisper yelling coming from the dining room.

“I said put the banner up, not strangle the chandelier with it!”

“That wasn’t me! It was Damian! He climbed up there!”

“I was fixing your poor attempt at symmetry, Grayson!”

“Why is the pie we made lopsided Jason what did you do to the pie?”

“It’s good. Shut up.”

“You burned it.”

“I call it caramelized flavor.”

“…It smells like regret.”

“Can someone…. Cass, what are you doing with the glitter glue?!”

“Decoration.”

I paused just outside the door and looked up at Bruce and you with raised eyebrows. You just smiled softly and gave a little shrug, while Bruce tried to maintain whatever shred of dignity he had left. It wasn’t working.

You both looked so stupidly in love standing like that his arm around your waist, yours looped casually around his. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like this was normal. Like this whatever chaos was waiting behind the doors was ours.

Bruce leaned in toward the doorframe like he was assessing a mission room, and I swear I saw his eye twitch.

“I gave them very simple instructions,” he muttered.

You patted his chest. “Your children are as smart and emotionally constipated as their dad”

The door swung open before anyone could knock. Dick stood there with his usual too big grin and remnants of glitter on his cheek like war paint. “Timmy! You’re late to your own surprise party!”

“It’s not my birthday?”

“Not that kind of surprise party!” he said, reaching out to drag me in with too much enthusiasm. “It’s Appreciation Day!”

“That’s… not a real holiday.”

“Sure it is,” said Jason, appearing from behind a mess of mismatched plates and aluminum foil wrapped disasters. “We just made it real. Sit down, Nerd Boy.”

Cass waved from the head of the table with a little toothy smile. Damian was on a chair next to her, arms crossed, already pouting like he hadn’t been helping just ten minutes ago.

The table was atrocious like someone had thrown a home economics final exam and a kindergarten arts and crafts project into a blender. The centerpiece was a crooked sign that said “WE APPRECIATE YOU” in bold, messy handwriting (clearly Dick’s). There was glitter on everything. The cups didn’t match. The pie looked like it’d been in a fight. it was perfect. All of it.

Dishes were stacked, uneven and mismatched. Cookies were slightly burnt on one side. Jason’s so called “caramelized” pie was visibly cracked. Cass had made what looked like finger sandwiches shaped into little bats. Even Damian had contributed begrudgingly with a plate of sliced fruit that had been carved into vaguely threatening shapes.

And in the middle of it all was a small card in your handwriting.

Tim,

We know things have been hard.

We know it sometimes feels like you’re overlooked.

But you’re not. Not here.

You’re brilliant. You’re loved. You’re ours.

Love,

Your Family (a bunch of idiots, but yours)

I couldn’t speak. Not really. Because what was there to say? This… this wasn’t some big show. It wasn’t polished. It wasn’t perfect. But it was real. it was for me. I glanced down the table.

Dick was beaming and already scooting over to make room for me. Jason was pretending not to look at me too hard, but his expression was softer than usual. Cass gave me a small nod, the kind that said more than words. Damian looked away when our eyes met but I could see the tiniest hint of awkward approval in the way he pushed a napkin toward the empty seat beside him. I took it. Quietly. Still blinking a little too fast. I didn’t cry. I didn’t. But I felt it thick in my chest. That weight. That feeling. Because my biological parents had never done anything like this. They didn’t see me, not really. I was a project. A prodigy. An obligation. But you and Bruce, in his awkward gruff way you saw me. You made this happen. I looked up once more and saw you and Bruce still standing near the door. Arms still around each other. Watching. Bruce’s eyes met mine. He gave the smallest nod. You just smiled. I mattered here. not always loudly. not in the same way the others did. But I mattered. And this this was home.

[yueebby]

his better half — dick grayson 

synopsis. how the world’s greatest detectives found out about dick grayson’s secret relationship with his sworn enemy (aka the progression of your relationship with dick grayson).

contents. fluff, whipped!dick (5k words of him pathetically pining), he’s robin then nightwing, catgirl!reader, parallels to cat/bat, 4 times the wayne family swore that there was something going on between you and dick and the 1 time they found out

notes. return of the cat/bat dynamic with dick! prequel to another fic but can be read as a standalone.

It had started back when he was Robin. No matter how many times he outmaneuvered you, no matter how many times he thought he had you cornered, you always slipped through his fingers like smoke, only to reappear with another scheme, another trail of mayhem across Gotham’s streets.

Tonight had been no different. Another failed heist, this time at the Gotham City Museum. But the encounter had turned nastier than usual. 

Now, back in the sanctuary of the Batcave, Dick sat rigid on the medical table, blood still drying on his suit. He hissed as Alfred’s hands stitched his side with a steady rhythm, each tug of the needle igniting a flicker of pain. Still, it was nothing compared to the fire simmering beneath his skin.

He clenched his fists, jaw locked tight. The pain was familiar, but the frustration was harder to swallow. It was you. The way you moved. The way you smiled through a fight. The way you never made it easy for him.

And worse than all of it, the part he hated most— He wasn’t even sure he wanted you to stop.

“She’s so—!” A groan tumbled from his lips, raw and exasperated.

Alfred barely spared him a glance, humming in mild disapproval before fixing him with a withering stare.

“Master Dick, may I ask why you’ve been picking at your stitches from your last encounter with Catgirl?” His voice was patient, but his raised brow was anything but. “These should have healed months ago.”

Dick’s face heated. He ducked his head, hurriedly muttering an, “I know!”

Alfred held his gaze a beat longer, the look in his eyes making it clear he knew more than Dick would ever admit. But, mercifully, he didn’t press.

Dick let out a breath, a fleeting sense of relief settling in, only for it to vanish the moment he felt another presence in the room.

“I see some things haven’t changed,” a deep voice observed from the shadows.

Dick didn’t need to look up to know who it was. The low timbre, the quiet authority, Bruce had perfected the art of making a simple statement feel like a verdict.

Still, he forced himself to meet the man’s gaze. Bruce stood behind Alfred, arms crossed, his expression carved from stone.

“B—” Dick started, but Bruce cut him off with a single, measured look.

“You let her get away. Again.”

It wasn’t an accusation, not really. There was no anger in Bruce’s tone, just a sharp-edged assessment, as if he were dissecting the situation piece by piece, searching for a truth Dick wasn’t ready to face.

Dick bristled. “Her arsenal’s expanded since last time. I was caught off guard.”

Bruce didn’t so much as blink. His eyes, naturally cold and unreadable, locked onto Dick, searching, measuring, stripping away every defense with quiet precision.

“One could assume you’re letting her—”

“No.” The denial came too quickly, too forcefully. Dick knew it, and from the way Bruce’s gaze sharpened, so did he.

It was absurd. Robin was a beacon of justice. He didn’t let criminals go just because they happened to be…

Unnerving.

His stomach twisted.

Because they were unpredictable. Reckless. A constant thorn in his side. Because they always seemed one step ahead, because their smirk made his blood run hot, because their laughter had an edge to it that echoed long after they were gone. Because they moved with the kind of sharp, deliberate ease that set his teeth on edge—

Damn it.

Dick clenched his jaw, forcing himself to focus. This wasn’t about her. It never was.

But the irony wasn’t lost on him. Bruce, of all people, had no right to talk. His own history with Catwoman stretched back long before Dick had ever worn the mask.

They stood in silence, neither willing to be the first to break it.

Bruce’s gaze flickered downward, landing on Dick’s freshly closed wound. His posture eased, just a fraction.

“Just be careful, Dick.” The words were quieter, softer.

Dick swallowed the lump in his throat and managed a smirk, the kind that felt more like armor than anything else.

“Yeah. Thanks, B.”

Dick’s just glad no one asks about the wounds you left behind—he likes keeping those for himself.

At the time, everyone brushed off Dick’s strange fixation with Catgirl as a childish rivalry. In fact, Bruce even thought that it was endearing. Everybody knew about Bruce and Selina’s back and forth dynamic, so it wasn’t out of the ordinary for Dick to have something similar. It was normal for heroes to have nemeses. 

However, it was not normal for Dick Grayson to hold on to the strange obsession years after his time as Robin. 

“Funds in the orphanages in the East Ends seem to be mysteriously disappearing,” Bruce said. “Catgirl is requesting for backup in the investigation.”

Tim piped up, “I can–”

“I’ll do it.” Dick had declared.

Everybody looks at him quizzically but doesn’t push it. If Dick was on a case, he usually got the job done quickly and efficiently, no questions asked.

However, something about tonight felt... different. More than a few eyebrows were raised when everyone watched across the comms as you two fought together during the mission. Nightwing and Catgirl, back-to-back, moving in sync as if you'd been rehearsing for this fight your entire lives. It was a fluid, almost practiced rhythm that made the rest of the team pause and wonder—had they missed something?

Red Robin made a snide remark. Oracle went quiet. Even Bruce didn’t say anything at first. He didn’t have to. The comparison was already there, unspoken but heavy in the air.

The shock wasn't that both Nightwing and Catgirl were working together. Rather, it was shocking how well they worked together. 

The way you anticipated his movements before he made them.  The way he covered you like he’d done it a hundred times before. 

At first, everyone chalked it up to familiarity. The two of you had been fighting each other since your teenage years, after all. History breeds rhythm. But there was something else lurking in the way you spoke to each other—something warmer. Something that had less to do with old grudges and more to do with the kind of intimacy that didn’t fade with time.

“You’re getting rusty, Nightwing,” you called, sidestepping a swinging pipe and landing a clean kick to the thug’s chest.

Nightwing scoffed, flipping over a crate and landing beside you with infuriating ease. “Rusty? I’m the deluxe, high-performance upgrade of Robin. Go ahead, test me out.”

“Tempting,” you said, snapping your whip around another guy’s ankle and yanking hard. “But I don’t test-drive antiques.”

“Ouch,” he winced, slamming his escrima stick into a goon’s ribs. “You wound me.”

“Not as badly as I should,” you smirked, ducking behind him as he blocked a blow meant for you. “Still letting me use you as a shield, huh?”

“Only because you look good doing it.”

There was a brief pause, half a second too long, before you clicked your tongue. “Flirting during a fight? You really have gone soft.”

“I multitask.”

And as the last of the smugglers dropped, groaning on the concrete, the two of you stood back to back, catching your breath. The comms were silent, but only because the rest of the team had gone completely speechless.

“…Do they always fight like that?” Tim finally asked.

“No,” Barbara muttered. “That’s new.”

“They’ve definitely fought before,” said Damian, deadpan. “But I’m starting to think it wasn’t always on rooftops.”

The line went dead with Bruce’s exhale.

And when the mission was finally over and all of the missing funds had been recovered, the smugglers were zip-tied and unconscious— Dick doesn't leave immediately.

He soaks in the quiet thrum of distant sirens and the pulse pounding in his ears.

You were breathing heavily beside him, leaning onto him for support. Your hair was tousled, mask slightly askew, but your smirk was intact, taunting and tired and entirely too irresistible.

“You gonna thank me for saving your pretty face back there?” you asked, arms crossed as you leaned just a bit too close.

He turned to you, one eyebrow raised. “I had it handled.”

“Oh, sure. You ‘handled’ it right into a tripwire.”

“That was strategy,” he said, looking down at you with a grin. “I was drawing them out.”

“You were stalling. Badly.”

“You were watching my back.”

“I always do.”

The air between the two of you tightened. Your usual banter softened into something quieter, something awfully familiar. His hand brushed your wrist, and you didn’t pull away.

“You ever think,” he said slowly, voice low, “maybe we’re better on the same side?”

Your smile flickered. “Dangerous thought.”

“Isn’t that your specialty?”

His hand found your waist, gentle, steadying. Your fingers curled around the edge of his suit. You tilted your head up, lips inches from his, breath warm against his skin.

And then—click.

Static buzzed softly in his ear.

Your eyes widened. “Your comm’s still on.”

He blinked. “Sh—”

“—Nightwing, please tell me we did not just listen to you try to make out with Catgirl mid-mission,” Barbara’s dry voice cut through.

Tim's snort followed immediately. “Can we mute them next time? I’m scarred.”

“Disgusting,” Damian added flatly. “He’s smiling. I can feel it.”

Dick groaned and reached up to yank the comm from his ear, but you were already laughing, backing away with a teasing glint in your eyes.

“You’re cute when you’re caught.”

“And you’re evil,” he muttered, grinning despite himself.

You winked. “You love it.”

And with that, you were gone, leaping off the rooftop like the night belonged to you. Maybe it did.

Dick sighed, still smiling as he turned off the comm and ignoring his family’s bewildered accusations at the interaction.

The next time everyone’s suspicions flared that there was something more going on between Dick and you was during a stakeout.

It was supposed to be a standard nightwatch.

Gotham’s skyline was quiet— by Gotham standards, anyway. Dick was posted up with the rest of the family, patrolling in sync from different rooftops. Chatter filled the comms. Nothing urgent. Nothing personal.

Until he saw you.

Not as Catgirl. But just a regular civillian. Draped across the ledge of a mid-rise rooftop in Old Town. Laughing and relaxed.

With some guy.

Dick’s posture stiffened immediately.

He zoomed in with his scope. Tall. Sloppy smirk. Leaning way too close. And the worst part? You were laughing. Like really laughing. The kind that made your shoulders shake, the kind you used to reserve for those rare post-fight rooftop chats with him.

“Hey, what’s Nightwing staring at?” Tim asked, mild and bored over the comms.

“Target,” Dick replied too quickly. “Suspicious interaction. Female known associate, male unknown. Possible criminal connection.”

“Known associate?” Barbara echoed. “Or—oh wait. Let me guess. Catgirl?”

Silence.

Damian sighed. “He's compromised.”

“Shut up,” Dick muttered, already moving across the rooftop.

He didn’t even wait for backup. By the time he reached them, the guy had just handed something off to you—small, shiny, probably stolen. But before Dick could assess, he was moving. On instinct.

“Step away from her,” he barked, landing hard between them.

The guy barely got a word out before Dick grabbed him by the collar and slammed him into the wall.

“Hey! What the hell—”

Dick didn’t let him finish. One hit. Two. A sweep to the legs. Too fast, too brutal for standard interrogation. The guy went down hard.

“Nightwing!” You shouted, stepping between them. “He wasn’t even fighting back—what the hell is your problem?!”

“He’s a known smuggler,” Dick snapped. “And he had his hands on you.”

“Wow. Jealousy looks great in blue.”

“Don’t make it worse,” he muttered, his eyes still locked on the guy groaning at his feet.

Back on the comms, silence settled in, thick and awkward, before it cracked.

“Wait…” Tim started, his voice laced with confusion. “Why do you care so much that she’s with him?”

“Yeah,” Barbara added, her tone now unusually sharp, “since when is this personal?”

Damian’s voice was almost too quiet, but cutting. “Did I miss something, or is this a... thing?”

Nightwing didn’t respond. His jaw tightened as he turned away, fists still clenched in the aftermath of his uncharacteristic outburst.

And you? You stood a few paces behind him, watching him closely, not angry, not amused. Just curious. Like you were seeing something new. Something that he hadn’t meant to show.

The next night, the Batcave was quieter than usual. The soft hum of the computers and the click of keys filled the air, but there was an underlying tension that none of them could ignore.

Dick sat at the computer, his focus fixed on the screen in front of him, but his thoughts were far from the mission at hand. His mind kept drifting back to that moment with Catgirl, to the way you’d looked at him after he’d snapped on the smuggler. He hadn’t meant to act so... possessive, but it felt almost impossible to push the feeling down.

“Everything’s quiet tonight,” Tim said, breaking the silence. “Guess that’s good news.”

Dick barely responded, just a distracted grunt.

Barbara’s eyes flickered to him, then back to her screen. “You’ve been awfully quiet, Dick. Everything okay?”

“Fine,” he muttered. “Just focusing.”

Tim raised an eyebrow, exchanging a quick look with Damian. “You sure? You’ve been acting weird ever since that last mission.”

Dick stiffened, but he didn’t look up. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” Tim said slowly. “You were... different when you were with Catgirl last night. Not just on the mission—before and after. You looked like you were protecting her, but you were also way too harsh on that smuggler. And don’t even get me started on how you acted when you saw her with that guy earlier.”

Barbara tilted her head, clearly intrigued but trying not to push too hard. “It’s not like you’ve never worked with her before. And you’ve never been this... invested. What’s up with that?”

Dick felt his pulse quicken. He didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to acknowledge that his jealousy had gotten the better of him. But here they were, picking at the cracks.

“I was just making sure the mission went smoothly,” Dick snapped, a little more forcefully than he intended. “Nothing else.”

Damian, who had been unusually quiet up until now, finally spoke. His voice was as sharp as ever, but there was a flicker of something behind his words. “You know, I’m not blind. You don’t usually get this... involved with any of our targets, let alone Catgirl.”

Tim leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. “Yeah, and what was with the whole thing earlier? You looked like you were about to break that guy in half just because he was talking to her. And I’m pretty sure you’ve never gotten that mad about anyone else on a mission before.”

Dick’s hand clenched into a fist on the desk. “It’s not what you think.”

“Then what is it?” Barbara asked, her voice soft but firm. “Because whatever it is, it’s affecting the team. We don’t need Nightwing going rogue.”

There was a brief, uncomfortable silence. Dick could feel everyone’s eyes on him, each of them waiting for an answer he wasn’t ready to give. He opened his mouth to respond, but the words didn’t come.

Instead, he stood abruptly, pushing away from the desk. “We’re here to stop criminals, not gossip about my personal life. Let’s focus on the mission, alright?”

Tim’s eyes narrowed as Dick turned away, but he didn’t press further. The tension in the room, however, remained thick, unspoken.

Damian exchanged a glance with Tim and Barbara, his smirk still present, though his gaze was sharper than before. “This is far from over.”

Bruce, who had been silently observing the entire exchange, spoke up from across the room, his tone unreadable. “Keep it together, Dick. Whatever’s going on, it’s not going to help anyone if it affects the mission.”

Dick’s jaw tightened, but he nodded, refusing to acknowledge the way his heart was pounding in his chest. The family wasn’t entirely sure, but they were starting to connect the dots. And once they did... there’d be no hiding it.

But for now, the only thing he could do was deflect and move forward—hoping the questions would die down. Hoping he could keep the secret a little longer.

Despite his family's gradually growing suspicions, Dick doesn’t exactly make an effort to hide it when you two finally start dating. In fact, if anything, he becomes even more obvious. The room was dim, the only light coming from the soft glow of the city outside the window. Inside, the atmosphere was a world apart from the chaos of Gotham.

Dick was lying on his bed at Wayne Manor, his head resting on the pillow, eyes closed in a rare moment of peace. You were beside him, your fingers gently threading through his hair, the soft touch sending a calm shiver through his body.

"You know, you're making it really hard to keep my cool," Dick murmured, his voice low, almost a hum as he relaxed under your touch.

"Oh, please," you teased, voice light but laced with mischief. "You’re practically radiating smugness. The whole ‘perfect vigilante’ act is getting a little old, you know?"

Dick let out a dramatic sigh, his lips curling into a playful grin. “I can’t help it if I’m a natural at this.”

"Yeah, sure," you said, raising an eyebrow. "Just don’t get too used to it. I’m not gonna make it easy for you."

“Good,” he replied with a wink, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “I like a challenge.”

You both fall into a comfortable silence, the kind that only came when you were together, when the world seemed to fall away. But that peace was shattered with an abrupt, deafening knock on the door.

“Dick!” Jason’s voice boomed from the other side. “Open up! I know you’re in there.”

Dick groaned, pulling his arm over his eyes as if trying to block out the inevitable.

You, unable to resist, sat up slightly, your lips curling into a grin at his frustration. Nonetheless, you shuffle away in the bathroom connected to his bedroom to stay away from Jason’s prying eyes.

Dick sat up quickly, running a hand through his hair in a half-hearted attempt to look more put-together. “I swear, if he barges in here—”

Another knock, louder this time. “You’ve got company, don’t you?”

Dick froze, caught in a moment of shock and embarrassment, but he couldn’t quite hide the flush creeping up his neck. He tried to act normal, shifting on his feet when he finally opens the door. “What are you talking about, Jay?”

Jason raised an eyebrow, smirking. “The I’m getting laid glow. You’ve got it.”

Dick’s jaw dropped, his brain short-circuiting for a second. “What? No—what do you—?”

“Don’t play coy,” Jason said, a cocky grin playing on his lips. “You’re practically walking on sunshine, Dick. You’ve got that ridiculous smile, and the way you’re acting... yeah, I know what’s going on.”

You couldn’t help it; you let out a soft chuckle from your hiding spot, biting your lip to stifle the laugh.

Jason doesn't relent. “So, what’s the deal, huh? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this.”

Dick rubbed the back of his neck, a little flustered but trying to maintain his cool. “I’m fine, Jay. Just... focused.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Uh-huh. Sure. I don’t believe you for a second.”

Before Dick could say anything else, Jason added, “You’ve just got that look. You know, the one you get when—” He paused, letting the implication hang in the air.

Dick’s face flushed even deeper. “This is ridiculous. You’re overthinking things.”

Jason paused, eyes narrowing in a mix of amusement and suspicion. "You’ve been acting different lately, and I’m not blind, you know. Something’s going on."

Dick, who’d been doing his best to look unaffected, now turned his back to Jason, muttering under his breath, “I’m just... not in the mood for your games, Jay.”

He's glad to finally pique Jason's interest, but it was for all the wrong reasons.

Jason, however, was not ready to let this go. “Oh, I’m not playing any games. But you’re acting like a damn schoolboy who’s got a crush. And it’s pretty damn obvious."

You stayed out of sight, peeking your head slightly from the bathroom door, listening to the exchange unfold. Your heart raced slightly from the tension, but you couldn’t help the grin tugging at your lips.

Jason was right—Dick had been acting different. But it wasn’t just his look or his smile. There was something in the way he’d been so much more... himself around you lately. More relaxed. More playful.

And Jason was definitely noticing.

“I’m not a schoolboy, Jay,” Dick finally snapped, turning around to face him again, his arms crossed in a defensive manner. "You’re seeing things.”

“Am I? Or is that just your smug ass trying to cover up whatever it is that’s going on?" Jason leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed as well, but his smirk was all knowing. “Look, it’s fine. But if you’re gonna act like this, I’m going to start questioning things.”

Dick opened his mouth to argue, but before he could speak, Jason raised a hand. “Save it. I’m not here for a lecture. Just know that I see what’s happening.”

There was a moment of silence as Dick stood frozen, unsure of how to keep denying it. He hadn’t realized just how obvious it had become until Jason called him out on it.

Jason’s grin only widened, clearly enjoying his older brother’s discomfort. “Anyway, I’ll let you get back to... whatever it is you’re doing.” He motioned to the room dramatically. “I don’t need to be here for the awkward afterthought phase.”

Dick let out an exasperated sigh as Jason turned to leave. “You better not say anything to anyone.”

“Oh, don’t worry. It’s our little secret,” Jason replied, turning back toward the door. “Just know that if you start dropping hints, I’m not gonna be the one to blame.”

Before Dick could retort, Jason was gone, leaving the door swinging slightly in his wake.

You stepped fully out of the bathroom then, finally walking back into the room with a mischievous grin on your face. "Well, that was fun," you said, leaning against the doorframe as you watched Dick run a hand through his hair again in frustration.

“Don’t even say it,” Dick groaned, sinking back onto the bed. “I swear, he’s got nothing better to do than mess with me.”

“I did try to stay out of sight,” you teased, walking toward him and sitting beside him on the bed. “But you’re just too cute when you’re all flustered.”

He gave you an exaggerated roll of his eyes. "Not cute. Annoyed. Annoyed, embarrassed, and—" He let out a frustrated sigh. "I'm never going to live this down."

You laughed softly, leaning against him. “Nope. You’re not.”

His arms instinctively wrapped around you, pulling you closer. “Why do you make me look so obvious?”

“You’re making it easy,” you replied with a smirk, resting your head against his shoulder. “I mean, you can’t walk around glowing like you just got laid and not expect anyone to notice.”

Dick let out a deep sigh but couldn’t hide the smile creeping up his face. “I don’t know how I let you talk me into this.”

“Because you like me,” you said with a wink, nudging him playfully.

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Yeah. I guess I do.”

Meanwhile, on the other side of the manor, Jason was already halfway to the kitchen, his grin never fading. He might not know everything, but he knew enough. And maybe, just maybe, he'd wait a little longer to see how long it took for the rest of the family to figure it out.

But one thing was for sure: he was enjoying the drama.

It was only a few short weeks after Jason's confrontation that the truth finally came out. How everyone found out was a complete accident. But, as with most things in Dick Grayson’s life, he was painfully aware of how unlucky he truly was.

It started like any ordinary morning. Quiet, uneventful, but peaceful.

Dick was lounging in the common room, sipping on his coffee, savoring the rare moment of solitude. He’d woken up earlier than usual, feeling content and unusually relaxed after the time spent with you. Everything felt... normal. Peaceful. That was, until everything suddenly took a turn for the worse.

The moment the door swung open, the calm atmosphere shattered. Dick’s gaze darted up to see Bruce walking in, his expression unusually serious, his features set in that familiar, unreadable way.

Dick had thought he was alone. Home alone. He’d been looking forward to a quiet day to himself, relishing in the rare peace that the manor offered. But now, as Bruce stepped into the room, and Dick caught sight of Tim, the panic hit him. His heart leaped in his chest, pounding violently.

His stomach twisted in that familiar, sickening way as the reality of the situation settled in. Tim was home. Bruce was home. They’d found out. And now, it was all crashing down at once.

Dick’s body stiffened, and for a split second, he thought about bolting. But instead, he just froze, internally cursing his luck. The one time he’d let his guard down, and of course, everything went horribly wrong.

"Dick," Bruce started, his voice low but carrying that edge of parental authority that Dick could never quite get used to. "We need to talk."

Dick immediately groaned, sinking further into his chair. “I’m not really in the mood for a ‘talk,’ Bruce.”

“You should be. Someone’s been snooping around your room,” Bruce said, his tone even, but his eyes narrowed slightly. “And they found... lady garments.”

Dick’s face flushed a deep shade of crimson. “I... what? Who said that?”

Tim, who’d been in the room pretending to read his tablet, looked up with a smirk. “Oh, I was the one who found them. Couldn’t miss the cat suit, man. A cat suit? Really? Come on, that’s... weird, bro.”

Dick shot a glare at his younger brother, feeling his face heat up even more. “That’s not—Tim, I swear to God, you have no boundaries.”

Bruce was still giving him that look, the one that meant he was both disappointed and extremely curious about how his son had gotten himself into this mess. “Dick, you need to be careful. This is Wayne Manor. It's not exactly private here. If you're—"

“Bruce, please,” Dick interjected, his voice sharp. “You’re making it sound like I’m hiding a body in there.”

"Are you?" Tim asked innocently, clearly enjoying every moment of Dick’s discomfort. “Because that would explain the whole ‘hiding cat suits’ thing. Is it a fetish thing, or just... a weird hobby? Can’t tell, honestly.”

Dick sat up straight, his hands clenching into fists. "I don’t have a cat fetish, Tim. And can we just not do this? Please?”

But Bruce wasn’t letting it go. “You can’t be so reckless, Dick. You have to think about how your actions affect those around you, especially in a house like this. What if someone else finds out?”

Dick panicked for a second. What if someone else finds out?

“I’m not exactly hiding it, Bruce!” he groaned, running a hand over his face in frustration. “Why are you acting like I’m doing something terrible? And why are you acting like I’m the one being reckless? I’ve been a vigilante for years! I think I know how to keep my... personal life... private.”

“Then why the cat suit?” Tim asked, deadpan.

Before Dick could answer—or yell—at his younger brother, the door to the hallway creaked open, and suddenly, your voice echoed from the other side, confused but curious. “What’s going on? Dick, why are you groaning so much?”

Dick’s heart sank. He’d wanted to be home alone, to enjoy a few hours of peace with you. But now... he realized it wasn’t just Bruce and Tim who had ruined that quiet morning. You—the woman of the hour— was standing on the other side of the door too.

The silence in the room became instant and suffocating. Bruce's gaze shifted toward the door, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Is that... her?”

Tim’s grin widened like he’d just hit the jackpot. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the mysterious Catgirl herself."

Dick’s heart sank even further. He didn’t think he could be more mortified, but somehow, it was happening. How? How could he have misjudged this moment so badly? Panic twisted in his chest, and he stumbled for words. “No, no, wait, it’s not like that, okay?” he stammered, his voice cracking under the weight of the embarrassment.

But your entrance only made things worse. You walked into the room, towel wrapped around your damp hair, still drying off from your shower. You had heard Dick groaning from the hallway and were just trying to figure out what was going on, completely unaware that things had already spiraled into uncomfortable territory.

You froze when you saw the three of them in the room, and Bruce’s laser-focused stare locked onto you.

Great, Dick thought, his entire world collapsing in slow motion. This was it. The beans were spilled.

You glanced over at Dick, your gaze flicking to his flushed face, and then back to Bruce, Tim, and the awkward tension that filled the room.

“Oh,” you said, voice light but tinged with humor, crossing your arms over your towel. “So... this is what’s going on? This is... the talk?”

Bruce’s stare was unwavering. “What exactly is going on here?”

Dick immediately jumped to his feet, hands held out in an almost defensive manner. “It’s not—! Bruce, please, it’s not what you think! We didn’t—”

You cut him off with a sly grin, leaning against the doorframe. “I guess I’m the lady who’s been leaving garments around,” you teased, clearly enjoying the shock on Dick’s face. “Maybe next time I’ll just leave a note?”

Dick groaned again, but this time, it wasn’t from embarrassment. It was more like he wanted to just disappear into the floorboards. He couldn’t even look at Bruce or Tim, he was so caught in the uncomfortable web that everyone had just helped weave.

Bruce’s lips thinned, his face unreadable as he slowly processed the situation. “I think we need to have a very different kind of conversation...”

Tim, however, was practically vibrating with excitement. “This is the best thing that’s happened all week. I knew there was something fishy going on with you two.”

You just rolled your eyes, not letting Dick get away with it. “Yeah, well, now that the cat’s out of the bag...” you teased, walking further into the room and giving Dick a playful shove, “... maybe we can all stop pretending we’re completely clueless.”

Bruce took a deep breath, his gaze softening slightly. “I expect both of you to be careful and respect the boundaries of this house.”

You chuckled lightly, but Dick just nodded, feeling utterly humiliated. “Right. Got it.”

As you looked at Dick, you could tell he was both relieved and mortified at the same time. Bruce was still processing the whole thing, but at least it was out in the open. Well, almost. Jason had yet to say anything, but you could already imagine the next round of teasing.

"Alright, well, I’m going back to not doing anything weird," Dick mumbled, his face still flushed as he walked toward the door, clearly ready to leave this conversation behind.

Bruce didn’t follow him immediately. He simply gave a small, almost imperceptible nod to you. “Just remember, I expect discretion.”

“Oh, we know,” you said, already turning to Dick with a smirk.

And with one awkward silence after another, Dick's relationship with you was no longer a secret. It was now part of Wayne Manor’s unofficial family gossip.

thanks for reading!

[sangunary]

- Hush now crybaby.

Yandere batfam x ghost Reader!

IMP: Little scenarios that happened after your death. This is a little scenario from my previous story 'Hush now crybaby' :3.

It was around midnight, Tim was still awake as he was trying to ignore his guilt by over working himself.

*Tim who was drinking coffee for the sixth time after dinner*

GhostReader: "I already told you to not substitute water for coffee!"

Tim screaming at the top of his lungs because not only did his dead siblings suddenly appeared infront of him to scold him... Their voice was.. extremely unpleasant and he was high on coffee.

After Tims award winning scream the whole family was awaken from their slumber, hurriedly went downstairs just to see Tim in a fetal position on the ground.

Dick: "Oh God! Little bird what happened?!"

Tim: "It's not my fault coffee taste better!"

Jason: "This is likely the result of being high on coffee, meth is better"

Damian inside his room, a ouija board and your favourite teddy besides him.

Damian: "Listen carefully, You will get inside this Teddy and make us happy again"

GhostReader: "Why can't you just start a conversation like a NORMAL PERSON??"

Minutes later Damian was playfully bullying Reader to go inside the Bear.

Dick who was weeping on his bathroom floor for dramatic effect holding Reader's clothes in his arm's.

Dick: "Oh God, im a terrible older brother... I don't deserve to live... My baby im so sorry it should have been me instead of you..."

GhostReader: "I can't tell if he's mourning me or using this opportunity to rehearse for his acting career...."

Dick who was still mumbling and crying really hard leaving a very visible wet stain onto the dress.

GhostReader: "Even for you this is really pathetic and hard to watch... Im getting uncomfortable I must leave"

Jason introducing the whole family to the outlaws because they kept on insisting.

Jason: "And the my favourite rat... Reader"

Arthemis: "Aw, she's cute... Im so sorry for what happened. I wish I could see her"

Jason: "Oh don't worry... Cause she's right here"

Jason pointing at a random corner of the room with full confidence.

Arthemis whispering to Roy.

Arthemis: "I didn't knew mourning makes you delusional"

GhostReader: "Im actually over there Jay"

Roy: "Oh my fucking God! That was the BIGGEST rat I've ever seen in my life!"

During any celebration or event Reader love's to ruin the photo one way or another... She found it hilarious but it's really creepy.

Bruce: "Perfect... We'll hang it on the wal- We need to retake this"

Reader who ruined the picture by merging with Bruce in the picture.

Tim: "THAT was the sixth time! We're going to die if we have to keep smiling like this!"

GhostReader: "I thought I looked really good in the picture..."

[notsodelirious]

Such a particular niche but I can’t stop thinking about Jason helping you with your hypermobility (or general chronic pain):

(last point is NSFW)

- Jason noticing you wince when you stand, lending you his arm so you can lean against him while your knees get used to the new position.

- Jason offering you piggyback rides when your back begins to ache from standing too long or walking around Gotham

- Jason helping you apply kt tape to all your susceptible joints, large hands rubbing your skin to make sure it adheres to you.

- Jason letting you use him as extra support when trying to find a sleeping position that doesn’t make your entire body ache, letting you toss a leg over his hips or a hand under your lower back.

- Jason helping you crack and stretch joints that are bothering you—he’s always more than willing to help crack your back for you.

- Jason pushing your legs up and out as he fucks into you with bruising force, but holds you carefully, making sure with you that he’s not pushing you past your safe limits.

Just Jason being soft when everything is sore and sucks

•─────⋅☾⊱♰⊰☽⋅─────•

(btw, I know hypermobility/other conditions related to it suck in different ways for everybody and some hypermobile people don’t have chronic pain at all—but I’m a dumbass that does a contact sport (mma) so my body actually doesn’t like me—the pain is also very much based on my experience)

•─────⋅☾⊱♰⊰☽⋅─────•

requests are still open (if you’ve left one recently, I promise I’m getting to it lol)

[thewitchblue]

"Are you wearing fucking heelys?"

Jason asked while shaking his head. He was equal parts amused and surprised. Your shoes even lit up as you rolled along. You grinned and started rollerblading around him.

"Yep!"

It's not really a pair of heelys, but a pair of convertable shoes that can be turned into roller-skates by attaching two sets of wheels. You just happened to always have the wheels attached. You didn't put in the front wheels this time, however, which turned them effectively into a pair of heelys.

You were on the footpath with him, returning from a date night Jason had set up for you both, so you figured you could skate for a little bit.

You were surprisingly smooth in your gliding. It was as if you were practising. He didn't know you could rollerblade, let alone work those death traps.

"You fall all the time. How can you balance like that?"

You grinned at his bewildered expression and began doing tricks.

"I have the power of my heelys."

You know every trick and even invented some of your own. You got heelys originally as a joke, but they were surprisingly convenient, so you bought a pair of easily convertable shoes to make the transition of rolling to walking smoother.

"You're ridiculous."

He grumbled. He can't believe he only recently noticed your improved heelys. He managed to catch you mid-twirl and pulled you into his embrace.

You crashed into him immediately, but he barely staggered backwards. He managed to steady you after the initial crash easily. He murmured softly,

"Sorry, munchkin."

His voice held love, but his eyes were concerned. You gave him a quick kiss.

"Don't worry about it, teddy bear."

He hated that nickname so much, but he's indescribably weak for how soft your expression becomes and the pure adoration in your voice. You look so hopelessly in love, and it takes his breath away every time.

He was in awe at the unconditional love you freely give out. So what if it was a cringey nickname that his family often weaponizes when he gets into a fight with them? It's not like his nickname for you is any better.

You gave him a soft kiss to drag him out of his thoughts. You always know how to bring him back to the present. He's convinced you could heal his scarred soul and jaded heart with your embrace and your kisses. His bleeding romantic heart melts.

"When did this happen?"

He gestured to your shoes. You smiled when he kissed the top of your head. You said,

"I wear my heelys all the time. How have you never noticed?"

That explains why you fall on carpet and trip over your feet sometimes. He's never considered it was your shoe choice causing this problem. People are clumsy and trip. So what if you happen to stumble and trip more often than the average person? He only steadies your body and catches you before you can fall.

He should have known better realistically, but he felt like he was in a romance movie every time he caught you, so he continued to let it happen. He said,

"I was distracted."

You laughed. His excuse was weak, but you humoured him. You were incredibly amused. You said with a small laugh,

"Every day for four years?"

Jason smiled sheepishly. He knows everything about you except these two things. He knew you were good at ice-skating because you went on a date with him to the ice rink, but he didn't bring you to a skate park or a roller rink. The asphalt can actually hurt you, and he never wanted to risk injuring you, even by accident. He knows he's a dangerous and intimidating man, but he goes into a slight panic when you get hurt.

"Yes, every day."

He said dryly. You smiled while shaking your head. He's ridiculous, but he's adorable and soft beneath his tough exterior.

"Whatever you say, teddy bear."

He lightly flicked your nose and said,

"I had all my focus on you, munchkin."

You don't doubt that. Jason always watches you with his bioluminescent eyes that gleamed in the darkness and shined beautifully in the daylight.

"Like how you're staring at me now?"

Jason knows he's staring. He's always staring at you. It doesn't matter to him what you are doing or where you are. He's very attuned to you and what you are doing.

You had already made yourself comfortable in Jason's embrace. You managed to tuck yourself under his arm and circle his torso with your arms. You nestled yourself into his side as if you belonged there the entire time.

You sighed when you heard the familiar knock on your window. That was Dick's knocking pattern. He insisted on having a specific knocking pattern so you will always know it's him and not some random guy trying to get in after you smashing your bedside lamp on his head one night. You mumbled,

"Do you think he'll go away if we ignore him?"

You really didn't want to lose your comfortable position. You had just come home. Why can't he leave you two alone?  Jason groaned. He had just found the perfect position, and he's not going to get up now.

"Fuck off!"

Jason yelled, knowing Dick would hear him. Dick huffed and gestured to Jason's phone, which he made no move to grab. His phone was lying on the table, but he had already migrated you both to the couch to cuddle. He's not getting up for some family drama that likely doesn't involve him. Dick comes over for ridiculous reasons all the time. Why would this reason be any different? It's not like Jason Todd was found kissing his new fiancée outside of a ring store, and it's blowing up all over Gotham.

Dick noticed the engagement ring, and he exploded the group chat. Dick texted,

"It's real. My baby brother is getting married 😭😭😭😭"

Tim ignored the spamming texts while taking a sip from his drink and leaning back in his chair. He doesn't care how they got engaged, but Dick was trying to get any information possible. You make Jason soft, and he is more than content to continue to have soft Jason forever.

When Jason refused to answer even his texts, he added you to the family group chat (don't ask how he has your number).

"How?"

That was the most important question to Dick. How did he propose and how long ago?

You groaned and dug out your phone when the excessive buzzing wouldn't go away. Jason grumbled,

"What about 'fuck off' did Dick not understand?"

You laughed at his pouting expression and gave his ring a kiss. That seems to be a new method to soothe him, to your satisfaction. It brings a sense of peace being reminded you're his for the rest of time. You decided to ignore the texts flooding through your phone in favour of cuddling your teddy bear of a fiancée.

"I love you."

Your voice was muffled as you had your face buried in his chest, but Jason heard you clearly. He rested his head on top of yours.

"I love you too, munchkin."

His love for you has bled into every corner of his life, and he wouldn't change a thing.

You quietly invaded his life and now he can't live without the comfortable pillows and blankets you insisted were necessary, the couple photos along the bedroom nightstand table, the walls of the bedroom that you coverted into a bookcase when he ran out of room for his books, the way you cuddle closer to him when you wake up, and the sleepy smile you gave him after a nap. Every corner of his life had been invaded. You became his home.

He rolled you on top of him and wrapped a nearby blanket around both of you smoothly. You melt into his body and quickly found a comfortable position for both of you. You have at least three blankets in every room in your shared home, and he loved your added weight.

You sighed as your phone continued to go off. Dick is in full big brother mode, and you suspect he won't stop until you respond.

You picked up your phone, but Jason nabbed it immediately and texted, "fuck off," to end the conversation. You only got a glimpse of the word, "How—" before Jason turned it off.

"You need to tell them eventually."

You said with amusement. He grumbled,

"Later."

Later never came until the wedding day, but you have Jason by your side, so who really cares?

[thatrandomidiot182]

Venomous Things

Spider! Varient/Venom! Reader × Batfam × ITSV

platonic pairings (subject to change). neglectful/abusive Batfam.

Series Trigger Warnings: death, gore, suicidal thoughts + actions, grief, child neglect, verbal abuse, underage substance abuse. To be updated...

Hispanic! Reader. GN! Reader (subject to change). Reader suffers from ptsd, paranoia, survivors guilt, and imposter syndrome.

Inspired by: @xan-izme, @cherrrydragon, @rizzanon, @jscrawls, @kenyummy, @acid-ixx, @brawberryz, @gotham-daydreams, @cosmosluckycharms, @l0s3rd0wnt0wn, @onceinamillionposter and others who all have batfam content that I absolutely lovveeee <3

Divider by: @sister-lucifer

You thought your life could only get better after leaving the manor and swapping your suit for civvies (for good).

Apparently, it doesn't matter what you do because you'll end up going down the same path as all the rest of them in the end.

Character Introductions – 1. 2. 3.

Prologue.

Ch. 1 – Bitter Reunions, Sweet Coffee

》 A familiar face appears to disrupt your newfound peace and drag you back to the past.

Ch. 2 – (We Only See Each Other at) Weddings and Funerals

》 Paying respects to the man who made Gotham feel like home proves to be harder than you thought.

Ch. 3 – Blood Ties and Past Lives

》 Who knew all it would take to bond with your little brother was another death in the family.

Ch. 4 – Old Favors

》 Just as things begin to settle, an old friend makes a problematic reappearance.

Ch. 5 – Infinite Universes, Infinite Possibilities.

》 You knew going back to HQ wouldn't end good. You just didn't think it'd end so badly.

Ch. 6 – Voices

》 Between the new voice added to your collection of hallucinations and the increasing reminders of your past, you're beginning to think you're losing your mind...

tbc...