#Batman AND Bruce Wayne are Gotham’s saviors

[v3lvet-midnight]

"𝖌𝖔𝖉 𝖌𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖓 𝖘𝖔𝖑𝖆𝖈𝖊"

God-given solace refers to the comfort and assurance provided by God But Bruce Wayne doesn't believe in a god, only you. small tw: brief mentions of god and religion sorta

living in Gotham can have two different effects on its people, some can become religious in order to develop faith that maybe one day the crime ridden city will be no more, others see so much bad they don't believe there is even a god not with all the terrible things they witness in their home city...

Bruce Wayne was in the second group of people. After all, for the most part he was the one stopping the evil. He's fought the joker on multiple occasions, the man who was an embodiment of evil himself how can he be expected to believe there even is a god? being left on the altar was probably his final straw in believing there isn't one. The words his ex-fiancé wrote to him practically engravened in his mind, how he shouldn't be happy. If Bruce Wayne is happy there can't be a batman. Lady Gotham needs her watchful knight after all. The idea of him being unable to be happy and be batman at the same time repeats in his head like a sick mantra he can't unlearn, and it repeats more and more each time he feels any sort of joy or love.

That however didn't stop him from falling for you, you came into his life so easily and effortlessly and he just couldn't bear the thought of telling you to leave. Not when you became his safe space, not when you gave him so much comfort and affection so effortlessly without expecting anything in return it's rare that he gets to experience that. given his reputation both in and out the mask.

after so much pain he was allowed to indulge himself at least once, right? Well, he thought he should. Thats why you're in his arms right now. After a long light of patrol all he really wanted was this moment. you in his arms, his head buried in the top of your head as he lightly squeezed you in attempts to feel your soft warm body against his while letting out soft hum while feeling utterly euphoric for having you in this moment, in his room away from the bat cave away from his duties of batman. Here its just you and him. Nothing else, no worries, no duties, just him and his lover. Thats all he'll ever need.

No Bruce Wayne doesn't believe in a god or a savior. Except you, you are his comfort his reassurance in this dark world, in this crime ridden city. He doesn't believe in god, but he could swear there were shortcuts to heaven in your eyes. you were his angel, his god given solace.

[frownyalfred]

the thing about Bruce Wayne is that, no matter what mask he wears, he looks at Gotham and sees something worth saving. something dark and dirty worth pulling up into the light, and damn the consequences.

in a city where so many other influential figures have given up, or given in, Bruce sees something worth making holy again. despite all that it’s taken from him.

[batgeance]

god bruce fucking hates talking to wayne execs and financial advisors

[solar-wing]

⚣ Shadowing Nightwing 🌗

🌃 Nightwing & Shadow 🌃 | 🌙 Nightwing's Shadow 🌙 |

⚣🌗 A/N → yall... i- i have no words for this. Final installment of the rewritten Nightwing & Shadow series. Hard to believe I first did this story over a year and a half ago and I'm just now finishing the third installment of the new version of it. And since it took so long, I decided to go all out...and I do mean all out. Someone get me to a church. ANYWAY, I hope you guys enjoy this! no i seriously do cause this right here is NAAAUUSSSSTTYYY! WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI | Omegaverse | Yandere Themes| Heavy Themes of Dub/Non-Con | Coercion | Finger Play | Oral Play | Full Smut | Manhandling | M-PREG | Knotting | Captivity | Mild Descriptive Violence | Mentions of Abortion | Heavy Implication of Gender Roles | ETC |

⚣🌗 Summary → Shadow, once a beacon of justice and independence for Omegas everywhere, has been reduced to nothing more than a subservient house Omega under the suffocating control of Dick Grayson. Living beneath the relentless gaze of Nightwing and Batman isn’t for the faint of heart—but they’re about to learn the hard way that Gotham’s Omega Savior is far stronger than they ever gave him credit for. After all, a shadow doesn’t just follow—it leads, outpacing those who underestimate it.

⚣🌗 Words → 15.4K (Post) | 45.3K (Total)

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🌗

Y/N lay on his side, staring blankly through the window from the grand canopy bed in one of the many guest suites in Wayne Manor. The sheets were soft, expensive, and suffocating. Dick had insisted on carrying him all the way up here after their first heated "reunion" in the bathroom. Even now, Y/N’s body ached from the aftermath—his abused genitals throbbing with soreness and unwanted arousal.

The bedroom door creaked open, breaking Y/N from his haze. Dick strolled in, his casual confidence evident in every step. He was dressed down now, only in a pair of sweatpants with no shirt, but his presence was no less oppressive. His smile was soft, but his eyes were filled with that familiar, possessive hunger.

“How are you feeling, baby?” Dick asked, his tone low, almost tender.

Y/N clenched his jaw, refusing to respond. He’d learned that silence was his only weapon in this warped power dynamic. But the Omega’s silence didn’t seem to faze Dick—if anything, it seemed to amuse him. He approached the bed, settling himself on the edge beside Y/N, his hand reaching out to stroke Y/N’s hair.

“You’re still mad,” Dick observed with a chuckle, his fingers trailing down to caress Y/N’s cheek. “But that’s okay. You’ll get used to it here. To me.”

The Omega's skin burned under the Alpha's touch, and his stomach twisted in a mix of anger and disgust. Y/N jerked his head away, his voice strained. “That’s what you think. If you think abduction and holding me hostage are elements of a loving relationship, you and your family are more delusional and detached from reality than I could believe.”

Dick’s smile faded slightly, but his eyes remained dark and determined. “I know you think that now, but things change, Y/N. You’ll see. You just need to accept it.”

Y/N felt a surge of defiance swell within him. “Accept what? Being your prisoner? Your breeding stock?”

Dick’s expression hardened, and he leaned closer, his lips hovering near Y/N’s ear. “Accept that you’re mine, Y/N. You were always meant to be.” He pulled back, his tone softening again, almost coaxing. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to make you see that.”

Y/N's eyes narrowed, feeling a fierce determination flaring within him as he stared into the Alpha’s cocky gaze. He knew he couldn’t react, couldn’t fight back, at least not yet. As much as everything inside of him wanted to be anywhere but where he was at that moment, he was well aware that things would not be that simple or easy.

This was of course the Dark Knight, and his long-time sidekick he was dealing with.

The door opened again, and Bruce entered, his presence as commanding as ever. Speak of the devil…

“I trust you’re settling in,” he said, his gaze shifting between Dick and Y/N. His voice was calm but authoritative—a reminder of the invisible chains that bound Y/N to this manor.

“Oh, it’s an adjustment,” Y/N replied tersely, his voice betraying the dull, persistent ache in his lower regions—a testament to the rough "welcome" he'd endured just minutes ago on the cold porcelain counter. The soreness was mingled with an irritating warmth, a reminder of the Alpha’s invasive presence still lingering inside him.

Dick’s eyes glinted with pride as he picked up on the Omega’s resentful arousal. He said nothing, but his hand found its way to Y/N’s thigh, his fingers pressing down firmly. Y/N’s body tensed instantly, a sharp breath escaping him as he fought the urge to pull away. Bruce’s eyebrow arched at the sight, but he remained silent, satisfied with the subtle exchange.

Bruce nodded, his expression a mix of stern authority and old-fashioned pragmatism. “Good. We’ll give you time to settle in. I’ll have movers bring over your belongings from your apartment, and you can make this room your own. It’s important that you feel at home here—both for your own adjustment and for the future we envision.”

He turned to Dick, his tone shifting to that of a strict father setting boundaries. “Dick, you’ll be returning to Blüdhaven for a while, to give Y/N the necessary space to process his new surroundings. I expect you to sleep in your own room tonight and not push things too far, too fast.”

Too late for that.

Y/N’s chest tightened with a mixture of relief and dread, knowing that Bruce’s orders were likely temporary and primarily symbolic. It was less about respect for Y/N’s needs and more about enforcing his own twisted version of order. Still, he forced a nod, keeping his face neutral.

Bruce’s gaze returned to Y/N, his eyes sharp but not unkind. “As for returning to the field as Shadow, that won’t be happening right away. I believe it’s best for you to focus on adjusting to your role here—accepting Dick as your Alpha and, in time, embracing your place as an Omega. I know it’s not what you’re used to, but there are certain… expectations when it comes to family, structure, and tradition. I want you to take this time to understand that before we reintroduce you to the dangers of vigilante work.”

Y/N's stomach churned at Bruce’s words. The idea of being kept away from the field, especially under the pretense of “adjusting to his role,” was suffocating. It wasn’t just about him being Shadow—it was about keeping Y/N contained, trapped in a place designed to break him down and remold him to fit their desires. This was as much about control as it was about protection—protection from what, Y/N wasn’t even sure anymore. He simply nodded again, knowing full well that compliance was his only path forward.

“Fine,” Y/N agreed, his tone deliberately flat.

Bruce’s gaze remained steady as if assessing the Omega’s compliance. Satisfied, he nodded. “Good. I’ll see you both in the morning. Alfred starts breakfast by 7 so I’ll expect you both down there promptly. Dick, behave..”

Dick’s jaw tensed, a flicker of defiance flashing in his eyes, but he nodded, though it was clear the agreement was reluctant.

After Bruce left and closed the door behind him, Dick, seemingly content with Y/N’s outward submission, stepped closer. “Come on, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice layered with false gentleness as he extended a hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Y/N resisted the urge to pull away, but he took the offered hand, letting himself be pulled off the bed and led into the adjoining bathroom. It was lavish and expansive, much like the rest of the manor, with a large marble shower already running, steam billowing around them.

Dick sat Y/N gently on the bathroom counter, his hands lingering on Y/N’s thighs, thumbs tracing the flesh possessively. Y/N clenched his jaw, trying to ignore the ache in his groin—a mix of soreness and lingering arousal from earlier. The Alpha’s scent was thick in the air, mingling with the steam, amplifying Y/N’s conflicted arousal. Dick’s touch was deceptively soft, as he helped Y/N out of his ruined suit, peeling away the fabric to reveal marked skin.

Once Y/N was fully exposed, Dick’s gaze lingered over the bruises and love bites scattered across the Omega’s body. He leaned in, pressing soft kisses to each mark, his voice low with a mix of apology and pride. “I know it’s a lot, but you wear them so well, baby.”

Y/N remained silent, his body tense, as Dick lifted him from the counter and carried him bridal-style into the shower. The water was hot, stinging against the sensitive spots on Y/N’s skin. Dick began to wash Y/N’s body with deliberate care, his hands rougher than necessary as they explored every inch of the Omega’s form. Y/N’s body responded, unwillingly, a traitorous heat pooling between his thighs. Dick’s fingers lingered there, massaging the slit between his legs slowly, his thumb teasing the slits while his other hand groped the small phallus organ that pulse slightly under his large grip..

Y/N tried to suppress a gasp, but the soft sound escaped him, earning a pleased hum from Dick. “See? You can’t help it. Your body knows who you belong to,” Dick murmured against Y/N’s ear, his voice filled with possessive satisfaction.

Y/N bit down on his lip, his hatred for Dick intensifying. He hated how his own body betrayed him, responding to the Alpha’s touch with a mix of desperation and resentment. The humiliation of it all only fueled his silent resolve: he’d find a way out of this, no matter what.

When the shower was done, Dick carried Y/N back to the room, giving him a rare moment of privacy. “You can dry off and lotion up,” he said, stepping back and out of the room with a promise to return swiftly.

Y/N took the opportunity to quickly dry himself and apply lotion, his movements efficient but hurried. As he finished, Dick returned with a pair of boxers and one of his shirts, laying them out on the bed. “Here, put these on,” the Alpha instructed, a smirk forming on his lips as his eyes roamed over Y/N’s vulnerable form, his gaze filled with an obsession that felt suffocating. “I want you to smell like me.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, suspicious of the Alpha’s intentions, but he took the clothes without argument. Dick turned around to give him a semblance of privacy, though Y/N could see the Alpha watching through the reflection of the large window in the room. Y/N quickly changed, the shirt and boxers feeling too intimate against his skin, the scent of Dick overpowering.

When he was done, he cleared his throat, signaling to Dick. The Alpha turned, his expression softening slightly as he approached Y/N. He leaned down, their faces inches apart, pressing a slow, possessive kiss to the Omega’s lips, his hand resting possessively on Y/N’s knee. Y/N didn’t return the kiss but maintained eye contact—an act of defiance that Dick acknowledged with a knowing smile.

“I humored you this time,” Dick said, his voice low. “But remember, I don’t need permission to look at your body. It, and you, belong to me.”

He suddenly yanked Y/N down onto the bed, positioning himself between Y/N’s legs. Y/N gasped at the unexpected motion, his legs spreading involuntarily, the heat of Dick’s body radiating against his own.

“Got that, babe?” Dick murmured, his lips pressing against the junction of Y/N’s neck and shoulder, right where his scent gland pulsed. He nipped at the skin, his teeth leaving a small, possessive mark.

“Got it,” Y/N gritted out, his fingers clenching into the sheets, his anger growing alongside the persistent, frustrating arousal.

Dick chuckled, his mouth curling into a cruel smile. “That’s my good boy.” He pulled Y/N up toward the head of the bed, positioning himself between Y/N and the door as he tucked them both under the covers, clearly disregarding Bruce’s faux order to sleep in his own bed. “Tim and Damian will help unpack your things tomorrow. Jason’s keeping an eye on your old place, so nothing goes missing—and maybe, in the future, we can go back there. Invite your old friend over, just so he can hear me fucking you against the door.”

Despite the crude words, a traitorous pool of arousal gathered in Y/N’s stomach, his body responding against his will. But beneath that, simmering beneath the surface, was a cold and calculated rage—a plan slowly forming in his mind.

Dick’s eyes flashed with a dangerous mix of victory and excitement as they lay on the soft, expensive sheets. “This is all I need, baby. Just you… here, with me.” He reached out, his hand resting possessively on Y/N’s thigh, his grip firm and claiming.

Y/N’s skin crawled at the touch, but he forced himself to remain still. He would endure this for as long as it took—until he could finally break free.

He’d get out of this. He’d get his revenge. And when he did, it would be slow, humiliating, and thorough.

Days blurred into weeks, and weeks into months. Y/N settled into a strange routine, with Dick constantly shifting between obsessive affection and domineering control. Whenever Dick was around, he oscillated between being tender and aggressive—bringing Y/N flowers one moment, only to pin him against the wall and rut into him the next. Nights were filled with rough, claiming sex, where Dick alternated between slow, sensual thrusts and raw, relentless fucking, always asserting dominance over Y/N’s body.

Whenever Dick left for Blüdhaven, Y/N felt a fleeting sense of relief. The days alone in Wayne Manor gave him moments of reprieve, but they were never truly free of surveillance. Alfred, true to Bruce’s orders, kept a watchful eye, making sure Y/N stayed within the designated rooms and didn’t do anything “out of line.” Meanwhile, Bruce’s strict regimen remained unwavering. He reminded Y/N of his role—both as Dick’s Omega and as a future asset to the Bat-Family.

Y/N’s introductions to the rest of the family were tense and calculated. Tim approached him with clinical curiosity, often observing Y/N’s behavior while trying to maintain an air of aloofness. Damian was less subtle, his disdain evident but mixed with a strange fascination—curiosity, perhaps, about how someone could challenge Dick’s claim so defiantly. Jason, surprisingly, was the least invasive, only stepping in occasionally, as if the whole ordeal bored him.

Despite the façade of family acceptance, Y/N’s presence remained a source of underlying tension. Everyone noticed that the bond between Dick and Y/N wasn’t taking hold as expected. The Omega’s stubborn resistance to Dick’s advances was palpable, his hatred simmering just beneath the surface. It wasn’t lost on Bruce, who often reminded Dick of his responsibility to “tame” Y/N, using the Omega’s reluctance as fuel to justify the invasive measures to come.

As time dragged on, it became clear to Dick's family that Y/N wasn’t relenting. His resistance gnawed at Dick’s patience, and the Alpha’s attempts at romantic gestures grew increasingly desperate. His frustrations were visible—every unreciprocated kiss, every empty “I love you,” only fueled the darkness within him. And as Y/N remained indifferent, the seed of an idea began to take root in Dick’s mind—one that Bruce subtly encouraged: ensuring Y/N’s loyalty by breeding him.

Though, it wouldn't go as expected.

Dick had been gone in Blüdhaven and for other missions for some time, far too long in his own head while Y/N would argue that it wasn't long enough. The night of his return, he'd opted out of patrol for that night, instead volunteering to give Alfred of reprieve from monitoring the Bat-Computer and the comms along with the Omega. Bruce figured it was a good idea as a way to start getting Y/N acclimated to their operation and procedures even if he still hadn't relented on letting him return as Shadow yet.

That's when it began.

Y/N had reluctantly accompanied Dick, who insisted that he wanted to “spend time together.” Dick was stationed at the Bat-Computer, coordinating comms and responding to Batman’s orders while Y/N sat beside him, scrolling through his phone. The space was dimly lit, filled with the soft hum of machinery and Dick’s occasional typing.

Dick, sensing Y/N’s boredom, pulled him closer, grinning when Y/N tried to inch his chair away. “Why do you always do this, baby?” Dick teased, his hands tugging Y/N onto his lap. Y/N squirmed in protest, but the motion only seemed to excite Dick more, as the hard length beneath Y/N’s thighs made clear.

“You know,” Dick began, his voice low, almost tender, “I can’t wait for when we have traditions like this—monitoring the city together, planning missions side by side.” His words dripped with longing. “Maybe our kids will take after us someday, running comms while you and I are out in the field.”

Y/N stiffened, his back rigid against Dick’s chest. The Alpha’s words struck a chord, one filled with implications Y/N wasn’t ready to face. “I’m serious,” Dick continued, pressing soft kisses along Y/N’s neck. “We’ll have a big house, kids who’ll inherit our skills. I’ll be the best dad—always making sure you’re happy and safe.”

Y/N tried to ignore the warmth pooling in his stomach, a traitorous reaction to Dick’s fantasies. He focused on his phone, willing himself not to respond, but Dick’s hands began to wander. Gentle caresses turned into possessive strokes, and soon Y/N found himself pinned against the Bat-Computer, his thin sweats pulled down to his ankles.

Dick thrust into Y/N slowly at first, relishing every inch as he filled the Omega, his hands gripping Y/N’s thighs to keep him in place. The slick sounds filled the cavernous room, mingling with Y/N’s soft whimpers as Dick’s pace gradually increased. Y/N tried to focus on the dull glow of the monitors, tried to detach himself from the overwhelming sensations, but it was impossible. Dick’s voice was a constant murmur in his ear—equal parts loving and possessive.

“You feel so good, baby,” Dick groaned, his movements becoming more forceful. “I love how wet you get for me.”

Y/N’s body reacted despite himself, his insides clenching around the Alpha’s cock. The humiliation only fueled his anger, but it also fed into his arousal—a maddening mix that left him trapped between hate and want. Dick’s thrusts grew erratic, his desire for control evident in every rough stroke.

Dick paused suddenly, leaning back just enough to observe Y/N’s body. His gaze darkened, a smug grin curling his lips as he noted something amiss. “You know, you haven’t leaked for me in a while,” he taunted, his voice dripping with cruel amusement. He ran his thumb teasingly over one of Y/N’s nipples, as if to draw out the desired response. “Not a drop. What happened, baby? Are you so mad at me that your body’s forgotten how to be a good little Omega?”

The mockery in his tone only added to Y/N’s humiliation, but before he could respond, Dick’s demeanor shifted, and the Alpha pulled back just enough to look Y/N directly in the eyes, a dark intensity replacing his earlier gentleness. “You’ve been keeping secrets from me, haven’t you?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, confusion and fear mingling in his gaze. “What are you talking about?”

Dick’s hand suddenly moved to grip Y/N’s arm—one that housed the small contraceptive implant. He squeezed it roughly, his fingers digging into the flesh. “This,” he growled, the word dripping with accusation. “When were you planning to tell me about this little device, hmm?”

Shock and dread washed over Y/N. Shit. He tried to pull his arm away, but Dick’s grip was unrelenting. “How—how did you know about it,” Y/N managed to ask, his voice barely a whisper.

Dick’s smile was cruel, filled with both satisfaction and anger. “Oh, baby, did you forget whose family you're part of now? Did you really think you could hide something like this from us, from me?”

Y/N’s throat tightened, and he struggled to find the words. “It’s not—”

“Not what?” Dick interrupted, his voice cold. “Not something meant to keep you from giving me what I want? From fulfilling your role as my Omega?”

Y/N’s eyes burned with unshed tears, a mix of rage and helplessness. “It’s my body, Dick. I get to decide.”

But the Alpha wasn’t listening. His free hand moved to Y/N’s throat, holding him firmly but not enough to restrict his breathing. “Not anymore,” he hissed. “You belong to me, Y/N. Every part of you.”

Dick’s thrusts resumed, but this time they were brutal, driven by a need to reassert his control. Y/N gasped at the intensity, his body jolting with each thrust, the computer’s edge digging into his back. Dick’s hand moved from Y/N’s throat to his jaw, forcing Y/N to meet his gaze. “I’m going to have it removed,” he declared, his voice filled with dark promise. “And then we’ll see how long it takes for you to accept your real place here.”

Y/N’s hatred for Dick solidified in that moment. This wasn’t just about domination—it was about breaking him completely, about taking away even the smallest semblance of control he had left. But Y/N vowed silently: he wouldn’t break, not like this. He’d find a way to use even this violation to fuel his escape, to strengthen his resolve.

But it was a bitter comfort in the face of what was to come. The weeks following the discovery of his contraceptive implant would be some of the darkest Y/N had ever endured. Dick's anger was palpable, simmering beneath every interaction, his obsessive need to dominate Y/N now mixed with betrayal. The Alpha’s desire for control grew more aggressive, his touches rougher, his demands more insistent. Where once there was the occasional hint of tenderness, there was now only a relentless, violent hunger.

Dick’s need to assert dominance over Y/N became brutal and unrelenting. He fucked Y/N whenever and wherever the urge struck—against walls, across tables, even in the middle of the night while Y/N slept. Dick's hand would clamp down over Y/N’s mouth, silencing any protest, and his hips would thrust with a single-minded need to remind Y/N of who owned him. Y/N’s body bore the marks of this unending battle: bruises, bites, and the ever-present soreness that followed each rough encounter.

At first, Y/N fought back fiercely, swinging between rage and disgust at the Alpha’s behavior. But resistance only seemed to heighten Dick's obsession, making him more desperate, more cruel. Dick’s eyes glinted with a dark satisfaction whenever Y/N struggled, as if every ounce of defiance was just further confirmation of the Omega’s need to be “broken.” Eventually, Y/N's resistance waned—not because his spirit was crushed, but because he understood that biding his time was his only option. He could no longer afford to waste energy fighting back physically; he needed to play the long game.

But a near breaking point came with the decision to remove the contraceptive implant. After discovering it, Dick wasted no time in making arrangements. Within days, Bruce had called in a favor with one of his surgeon contacts, setting the wheels in motion for a rushed, unsanctioned surgery. Y/N’s protests were loud and filled with rage—this violation was a line even Dick hadn’t crossed before, a forced act that stripped away the last shred of Y/N’s bodily autonomy.

“You can’t do this!” Y/N shouted as he was restrained by Bruce and Tim, the sterile scent of the operating room mixed with the sickly sweet smell of his own fear.

Dick’s expression was cold, determined. “You don’t get to decide that anymore,” he said flatly, his eyes devoid of their usual playful arrogance. “Not when you kept this from me.”

The procedure itself was quick but traumatic, the pain both physical and symbolic. As the surgeon removed the implant, Y/N felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness wash over him, like a final tether to his autonomy being severed. Tears burned at the corners of his eyes, but he refused to let them fall, biting down on his lip so hard that he tasted blood.

In the days following, Y/N was a mix of raw pain and seething rage. But amidst the anguish, there was a small, bitter hope—a sense that this forced change might actually work in his favor. Behind his flushed cheeks and angered breaths, the embers of his hatred burned hotter than ever. He would use this moment—this twisted, unwanted intimacy—to stoke his plan for revenge.

After the removal of his IUD, it wasn’t long before the familiar, overwhelming warmth flooded his veins, turning his thoughts hazy with lust. His scent, which had been muted and suppressed for so long, became potent—thick, heady, and impossible to ignore. The air in the room turned cloying with pheromones, the distinctive musk signaling his vulnerability as an Omega.

The scent reached Dick almost immediately, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled the potent aroma. The Alpha’s reaction was instant and primal, his pupils dilating as a rush of possessive desire surged through him. Y/N’s heat had triggered an impromptu rut, the feral side of Dick emerging with brutal force. His muscles tensed, every instinct urging him to claim Y/N thoroughly and completely.

Dick wasted no time. With a guttural growl, he grabbed Y/N and effortlessly hoisted him over his shoulder, his grip firm around the Omega’s thighs. Y/N let out a startled gasp, his body trembling from the sudden shift in position and the Alpha's dominating hold. Dick’s hand landed possessively on Y/N’s ass, a rough squeeze meant to both assert control and savor the Omega’s helplessness. The position only intensified Y/N’s arousal, the heat of his slick seeping through his underwear as he was carried like prey by his captor.

The room spun in Y/N’s vision as he dangled over Dick’s shoulder, the Alpha’s hand stroking the back of his thigh possessively. “You smell so fucking good, baby,” Dick rumbled, his voice thick with desire. “I’m going to take you apart.”

Every step sent jolts of stimulation through Y/N’s channel, his arousal heightened by the rough handling. His hands instinctively clutched at Dick’s back, his fingers digging into the taut muscles beneath the fabric of the Alpha’s black shirt.

“Put me down, Dick,” Y/N managed to protest weakly, but the heat-induced haze made it sound more like a plea than a demand.

“Oh, I will,” Dick replied darkly, his grip tightening as he crossed the room. “Right after I’ve got you exactly where I want you.”

Dick strode confidently toward the bed, his steps purposeful and filled with possessive intent. He tossed Y/N onto the mattress, the Omega landing with a soft thud, legs splayed as he tried to regain his composure. But the moment his back hit the bed, Y/N knew there would be no escaping the Alpha’s determination—no mercy, no reprieve. Only the raw, primal force of Dick’s rut colliding with his heat.

For the next several days, the bed became their battleground. Y/N’s slick drenched the sheets, his body leaking copiously—more than it ever had before, as if making up for lost time. The resurgence of his body’s natural lactosecretion only added to Dick’s fervor, his dark satisfaction evident in every claiming thrust. Outside of heat, Y/N remained stubbornly dry, a fact that gnawed at Dick’s psyche, intensifying his obsession with conquering the Omega completely.

“Fu-FUCK… a-ah, D-Dick hurry u-up… FUCK… pl-please,” Y/N groaned, his hands balling into fists as he pounded them against Dick’s sweaty back. Each teasing, agonizingly slow thrust left Y/N on the brink of insanity. He could feel the soreness in the junction between his neck and shoulder—a place sore from the numerous times Dick had sunk his teeth into it.

Y/N had lost count of how many times they’d fucked over the past week. The air was thick with sex and sweat, a stifling combination that blurred the line between pleasure and torment. The first heat after suppressants was always the hardest, the body’s natural rhythm disrupted, leaving Y/N’s mind fogged by lust. Dick’s anger seemed to vanish the moment he caught the first whiff of Y/N’s scent, his dark eyes gleaming with unbridled hunger.

Y/N wasn’t permitted to leave the bed except to shower or use the toilet. Even those brief moments of respite were often interrupted by Dick’s spontaneous urges, pressing Y/N against the shower tiles or fucking him on the cold bathroom floor. Each time, Y/N’s brain fogged over with carnal need, even as his resentment simmered beneath the surface.

“What's that baby?” Dick taunted, his voice thick with satisfaction as he continued his torturously slow thrusts. He barely grazed Y/N’s prostate, making the Omega whine in desperation. “You want me to fill you up, huh?”

“Do that again!” Y/N begged, wiggling his hips to create friction against Dick’s swollen cock. His walls clenched tightly, trying to keep the Alpha inside, desperate for the fullness that was constantly being denied.

Dick chuckled, the sound dark and low. His tongue flicked over one of Y/N’s leaking nipples, drawing a sharp gasp from the Omega. “You want my knot, little Omega?” he whispered against the sensitive bud, sending shivers down Y/N’s spine.

“Please…” Y/N’s voice broke, his body trembling with need.

“You gonna give me what I want?” Dick murmured into Y/N’s ear, his words like a dark promise. He released Y/N’s hands, allowing the Omega to scratch at his back—an act Dick encouraged by having Alfred remove all nail clippers. A testament to how much Dick liked being marked by the submissive just as much as he liked seeing the Omega marked by him. Even when Y/N had tried to bite his nails, Dick cuffed his hands behind his back for two days as punishment.

“Yes, yes I will! I promise!” Y/N cried, his words spilling out in a haze of desperation.

A guttural growl rumbled from Dick’s chest. He grabbed Y/N’s hair, yanking his head back to expose his throat while his other hand wrapped around the Omega's painfully engorged phallus member. The hot and throbbing opening between his slick-covered slits beneath the small shaft of his penis was in no better state with the Alpha's girth stretching the rim.

Dick pumped his fist, the motion rough and unforgiving. Y/N whimpered, his body arching as the dual sensations threatened to overwhelm him. His walls tightened around the Alpha's cock, the pressure increasing with each stroke.

“You’re gonna look so good carrying our baby,” Dick growled, delivering a punishing thrust against Y/N’s prostate at the mention of pregnancy. “I can’t wait for everyone to see your round belly, knowing it was me who knocked you up.”

The words, meant to be a show of dominance, sent Y/N into a spiral of pleasure and loathing. He screamed, his body shaking with overstimulation as Dick’s knot began to swell, locking them together. The Alpha’s teeth sank into Y/N’s shoulder, marking him again as his semen flooded the Omega’s insides.

“You’ll always be mine, no matter what,” Dick muttered, his voice filled with raw possessiveness. Y/N could feel the Alpha’s triumph in every word, his body still throbbing from the intense knotting.

The following 21 days were a blur of sex and psychological torment. Even after the mating cycles had broken, Dick continued to fuck Y/N relentlessly, determined to cement his claim in every way possible. The bed became their primary battlefield, but it wasn’t the only one—walls, tables, and the floor were all fair game in Dick’s obsessive pursuit of dominance.

Despite the physical exhaustion, Y/N’s mind remained clear—even with the consistent clouded mentality: this was all part of Dick’s attempt to establish complete control. And while his body couldn’t help but respond to the Alpha’s touch, his mind remained fiercely resistant.

Dick’s excitement to confirm a pregnancy grew with each passing day, and he became increasingly impatient. He refused to settle for a drugstore pregnancy test, insisting on seeing a doctor for definitive results. Bruce, as always, called in a favor to make it happen.

For the Alpha, the waiting results were not what he was expecting, much less hoping for. But for the Omega, it was a sign that there was a chance, a small window of opportunity.

When the doctor confirmed the negative result, Y/N could see the rage and disappointment flash across Dick's face. The Alpha's grip tightened around his arm, his fingers digging into the flesh. "How is that possible?" he demanded, his voice laced with anger.

“You didn't deliver on your promise,” Dick seethed after receiving the news.

The doctor’s explanation was simple: Y/N’s body was actively rejecting Dick’s mark and his sperm. The emotional turmoil Y/N harbored was severe enough to trigger a physiological response, preventing pregnancy. It was a rare but possible occurrence among male Omegas—one that worked in Y/N’s favor.

Dick was livid. His hands clenched into fists, his eyes flashing with a dangerous mixture of hurt and fury. “You promised me!” he shouted once they were back at Wayne Manor. The echo of his voice filled the grand hall, adding to the oppressive atmosphere that had settled over the estate.

“Well, you should know better than to believe anything we Omegas say when we’re that frustrated and horny,” Y/N retorted, a smug smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Dick’s rage was palpable, but so was the growing tension between them. Y/N’s resistance had driven the Alpha to desperation, and the failure to conceive only made Dick more aggressive. He abandoned any pretense of kindness, reverting back to the cocky bastard Y/N had first met on that rooftop—only worse.

Dick made good on his earlier promise. One evening, he drove Y/N back to his old apartment, the sight of the familiar building pulling a pang of bittersweet nostalgia from the Omega. Y/N’s heart ached as they approached the entrance, the memories of a life he’d once known flooding back—moments of freedom, fleeting happiness, and a time before Dick’s suffocating presence.

But this wasn’t a visit for sentimentality. As soon as they stepped through the door, Dick’s demeanor shifted from quiet control to something darker, more menacing. He pressed Y/N roughly against the front door, his hands gripping the Omega’s wrists and pinning them above his head. His body loomed over Y/N’s, his voice a low growl that vibrated against Y/N’s ear.

“Do you know why I brought you here, baby?” Dick’s tone was a mixture of mockery and raw desire. “Because I want to remind you and someone else of who owns you now—who you belong to.”

Before Y/N could respond, Dick’s hand slid down to yank at the Omega’s clothing, tearing the fabric away in his haste. Y/N shivered, a mix of fear and unwanted arousal surging through him. The Alpha’s scent was thick and oppressive, making it hard to think, to focus on anything other than the heat of Dick’s body pressing against his own.

With one hand still pinning Y/N’s wrists, Dick used his other to fumble with his own pants, freeing his hard length. The desperation in his movements was palpable, driven by a primal need to assert his claim in the most degrading way possible. He aligned himself at Y/N’s entrance, his voice dripping with possessive lust as he taunted, “Let’s make sure Leo hears every fucking sound you make, sweetheart.”

Dick’s thrusts were brutal from the start, his pace unrelenting as he forced Y/N’s body against the door. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the small apartment, accompanied by Y/N’s unwilling moans and Dick’s deep, guttural grunts. Each thrust was a punishing reminder of the power imbalance between them, of the dominance Dick sought to enforce not just over Y/N’s body, but over his very soul.

“Make sure he hears you, baby,” Dick ordered again, his voice low and harsh. He drove into Y/N with renewed force, his hips slamming against the Omega’s ass, each thrust calculated to elicit the loudest possible reaction. “I want him to know exactly who’s inside you right now.”

The mixture of pleasure and humiliation tore at Y/N’s sanity. His walls clenched reflexively around Dick’s length, slick pooling beneath them as his body betrayed him. He hated the way his voice rose in a series of helpless cries, hated how his body arched back to meet Dick’s brutal thrusts, but the Alpha’s relentless rhythm and taunting words left him powerless.

“You like this, don’t you?” Dick growled, his voice laced with both anger and twisted satisfaction. “You love being fucked like this, knowing your old flame is on the other side of the door, listening to every moan, every scream.”

Y/N’s response was an incoherent mixture of sobs and gasps, his mind too clouded by sensation to form words. But his silence wasn’t enough for Dick, who wanted more—who needed more. He leaned in, his breath hot against Y/N’s ear as he whispered, “Tell him, baby. Tell Leo who you belong to.”

The words struck Y/N like a physical blow. He tried to resist, tried to bite down the humiliation, but Dick’s hand found his throat, squeezing just enough to make him gasp. “Say it,” Dick demanded, his voice dripping with possessive fury. “Or I’ll make you say it.”

“Y-you,” Y/N finally managed to choke out, his voice breaking with the effort. “I-I belong to you, Dick.”

A dark, triumphant grin spread across Dick’s face, his pace becoming even more punishing as he reveled in Y/N’s forced confession. “That’s right, baby,” he murmured, his voice a mixture of cruelty and satisfaction. “You belong to me. Not him. Never him.”

Dick’s eyes flashed with a sudden, darker fury. He paused just long enough to lean in close, his breath hot against Y/N’s ear as he hissed, “If you were actually trying, you’d be pregnant with my child by now.” The words dripped with cruel mockery, each syllable soaked in bitter resentment. “Maybe you just need a reminder of what happens when you disobey me, hmm? Maybe that’ll teach you not to break your promises.”

Dick’s thrusts became rougher, driven by a wave of possessive rage. “And knowing he’s out there, listening to me fuck you senseless… maybe that’ll finally make your body accept me,” he spat, his voice dripping with twisted satisfaction. His words weren’t just directed at Y/N—they were a deliberate, taunting jab at the Alpha waiting helplessly on the other side of the door.

“Did you ever leak for him like you do for me?” he sneered, his voice loud enough to ensure that every word carried beyond the walls. “Did you let him knot you, or did you save that privilege for me alone? Because you and I both know who really owns you, don’t we?”

The dark emphasis in his tone was unmistakable, each declaration a bold, deliberate statement of his claim over Y/N—a challenge meant to wound not just the Omega but the Alpha outside, forcing him to hear the brutal, carnal proof of Y/N’s submission.

“No, no, no, no,” Y/N sobbed, his body shuddering under the assault of Dick’s words and the punishing rhythm of his hips. Every vicious thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure and humiliation through him, his slick gushing between them, amplifying the lewd sounds of their bodies colliding.

“Good,” Dick growled, his voice dripping with sinister satisfaction. “Because you’re mine—every inch of you, inside and out. Only I get to breed you, fill you up until you’re swollen with my kid.” His hand tightened around Y/N’s throat, not cutting off his air completely but exerting just enough pressure to make him gasp. “You hear me? You’ll only have my knot, push out my children. Only me.”

As if to emphasize his claim, Dick angled his hips sharply, driving into Y/N’s prostate with brutal precision. The force of the thrust ripped a guttural scream from the Omega, his body convulsing with overstimulation. The wet squelch of his slick filled the air, mixing with Dick’s guttural groans, creating a cacophony of raw, primal lust that echoed off the apartment’s walls.

“Say it,” Dick demanded, his voice a low snarl. “Tell me you’re mine, that you’ll give me what I want.”

“I’m yours,” Y/N choked out, tears mingling with the sweat on his flushed cheeks. “I-I’ll give you everything, just… just stop.”

But there was no stopping. Dick’s final thrusts were wild and merciless, each one accompanied by a surge of possessive triumph. His knot began to swell, locking them together in a forced bond that marked his victory. Y/N’s body trembled uncontrollably, his own orgasm ripped from him as the Alpha’s knot throbbed and expanded, pushing his seed deep into Y/N’s depths. Slick and cum oozed down the Omega’s thighs, a messy testament to the sheer force of Dick’s claim.

“Fuck, yes,” Dick groaned, his voice raw with satisfaction. “You’re gonna look so fucking good pregnant, baby. I want everyone to see what’s mine—round with our child, dripping with my cum.”

With his knot fully seated, he bit down victoriously on Y/N’s shoulder, his teeth sinking deep into the sensitive flesh, a searing reminder of ownership that burned both physically and emotionally. “He’ll never have you,” Dick declared, his voice low and raw. “You’re mine, now and always.”

The words were as much a declaration as they were a threat—a dark promise of more to come, a twisted vow that hung heavy in the air long after the final echoes of their coupling faded.

It was now going into six months—six months since Y/N’s arrival at Wayne Manor. The constant battles for dominance, the brutal sexual encounters, and the psychological warfare had taken their toll. But Y/N’s resolve remained unbroken. Beneath the façade of compliance, he was carefully laying the groundwork for his escape, gathering allies and resources while subtly manipulating the tensions between Dick and the rest of the Bat-Family.

And with Bruce finally sensing the strain between his son and the Omega, he began to question whether Dick’s approach was truly effective. The cracks in their control were small but significant—moments of hesitation, shifts in focus, brief concessions that Y/N seized upon with all the desperation of a man drowning.

Y/N had started to sow doubts strategically. He knew Bruce respected order above all else, and he used that to plant seeds of uncertainty. During seemingly harmless conversations, Y/N let slip mentions of his “adjustment difficulties,” emphasizing how forced compliance was hindering any real bond between him and Dick. He portrayed himself as malleable—capable of genuine acceptance, but only if given the opportunity to heal.

It was subtle, careful work. Y/N knew he couldn’t afford any mistakes; one misstep could shatter everything. But as he watched Bruce’s stoic expression shift into contemplation during one of their tense discussions, Y/N felt a flicker of hope he hadn’t experienced in months.

At night, Y/N lay awake, replaying each step of his plan in his mind. He could see the path ahead with a clarity sharpened by months of suffering. He knew it wouldn’t be easy—Dick’s possessiveness had only grown more suffocating, his surveillance more intense. But the cracks were there, visible in the way Bruce hesitated before issuing orders, in the way Alfred’s cold disapproval softened into the barest hint of pity.

Soon, Y/N told himself, the word a silent promise. The Bat-Family’s fortress of dominance was beginning to crumble, and Y/N intended to be the force that brought it down.

He would escape. He would reclaim his freedom. And when he did, he would make sure the world knew the truth about the Wayne family's dark, twisted control.

But for now, Y/N remained patient—like a predator watching for the perfect moment to strike. Because the longer he played his role, the deeper he burrowed into the Bat-Family’s trust. And the deeper he got, the more power he would have when the time came to tear it all apart.

Y/N’s life at Wayne Manor had shifted in unexpected ways since the last doctor’s visit confirmed the ongoing rejection of Dick’s bond. Bruce, accepting the expert’s recommendation, realized they were going to need a more measured approach. The stark realization that aggressive dominance wasn’t working led to a change in strategy. And while Dick remained desperate to cement a bond, Bruce encouraged him to ease off—give Y/N space to “heal” emotionally. It wasn’t a gesture of kindness, but a calculated move to reset the strained dynamics and, hopefully, break down Y/N’s resistance.

And it was just the calculated move the Omega was patiently waiting for.

Gradually, Dick loosened his grip. Y/N was allowed to leave the manor as long as he had a chaperone—Bruce, one of Dick’s brothers, or Alfred. He could also return to his old job at Wayne Enterprises, a move intended to “normalize” his captivity under the guise of giving Y/N more autonomy.

His return to Wayne Enterprises marked his own calculated step forward in his plan. With Bruce's suggestion to allow Y/N more freedom in hopes that it would get him to start letting down his guard, he could start to see the small little cracks in the oppressive intensity that had defined his existence at Wayne Manor since he'd arrived. Yet Y/N knew better than to actually let his guard down. The Wayne family was still watching, and he had to move cautiously, maintaining a balance between compliance and covert rebellion.

Every morning, Y/N followed a well-rehearsed routine: waking up to Dick’s possessive embrace, enduring his aggressive attempts at bonding, and then donning the façade of a compliant Omega as he prepared for work. He exchanged curt nods with Bruce at the breakfast table, endured subtle yet protective gazes from Damian, and caught Tim observing him with clinical curiosity. Alfred remained watchful, a silent sentinel who noticed every detail, no matter how small.

As Y/N made his way to Wayne Enterprises each day, he carefully crafted his persona—a seemingly resigned Omega who had accepted his place in the family. It was an act designed to lull the Bat-Family into a false sense of security. The truth was far more sinister: Y/N was navigating a deadly game of deception, one that required every ounce of his cunning.

The familiar scent of coffee and corporate politics would greet Y/N every time he stepped into the building. He kept his demeanor casual, but his mind was constantly alert. His co-workers welcomed him back with a mix of curiosity and genuine warmth—though a few appeared overly interested in his apparently public relationship with Dick Grayson. Y/N wasn’t naive; he knew that among the seemingly harmless smiles and greetings were likely a few informants, keeping tabs on him for Bruce or Dick.

The cautiousness didn’t extend to everyone. Among those Y/N was genuinely happy to see was Wyndall. The Omega’s soft-spoken nature had always been a source of comfort amid the high-pressure environment of Wayne Enterprises. Wyndall had been one of Y/N’s closest friends before the fateful night when Y/N, as Shadow, had intervened to save him from Nightwing's scheme. Thinking back, it'd made sense why Dick chose to target Wyndall when setting his trap for him.

Wyndall was a kind, gentle soul, and Y/N knew he could trust him. Obviously, he couldn't just jump in and tell the Omega everything. He had to wait it out, knowing Dick and Bruce were keeping eyes on him. But, as one of Y/N's only friends in the company, their friendship is rooted in shared experiences as Omegas navigating the power dynamics of Wayne Enterprises, he knew he could trust Wyndall.

“It’s good to have you back,” Wyndall said during their first lunch together. His eyes reflected both warmth and worry. “This place just wasn’t the same without you. Too many stuffy Alphas trying to boss us around.”

Y/N forced a smile, masking the darker memories that Wyndall’s words unintentionally stirred. “Yeah, I missed the banter too. It’s been… a long six months.”

In the weeks that followed, Y/N fell back into a predictable routine at work. He was careful with his questions and subtle in his interactions, knowing that any misstep could raise suspicions. He made sure to blend into the background when necessary, never drawing too much attention. It was crucial that he appeared content—another cog in the Wayne Enterprises machine. Yet, beneath the surface, Y/N was working tirelessly, each day bringing him closer to freedom.

Y/N and Wyndall continued their interactions with the kind of ease that came from years of shared experiences, but there was an underlying tension to Y/N’s behavior—an anxious edge that Wyndall was quick to pick up on. Though their conversations seemed casual, Y/N’s eyes would constantly dart around, his voice lowering to hushed tones whenever the conversation veered toward sensitive topics.

“Are you okay?” Wyndall asked one afternoon as they sat in a quiet corner of the office cafeteria, concern etched across his face. He leaned forward, his brow furrowed. “You’ve been… different since you came back. Always on edge, like you’re expecting something bad to happen.”

Y/N hesitated, eyes darting around the bustling cafeteria. He knew he had to be careful—he couldn’t risk even a single misstep. The looming presence of Dick and Bruce was still very much a reality, and he couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, even in this seemingly casual setting.

“It’s… complicated,” Y/N finally whispered, his voice barely audible. “There’s something I need to tell you. It’s important, and you’re the only person I can trust.”

Wyndall’s concern deepened, his voice gentle but insistent. “What is it? You know you can tell me anything.”

Y/N swallowed hard, feeling the weight of what he was about to reveal. “Do you remember that night here at Wayne Tower? Last year, when you were cornered by Nightwing?”

Wyndall stiffened at the memory, a mix of fear and bitterness flashing across his face. “Yeah, I remember. I sent a distress signal, but the police thought I was just a hysterical Omega making up stories. No one followed up on it.”

Y/N’s jaw tightened, a surge of anger rising in his chest. “I know they didn’t,” he said quietly. “Because I was there.”

Wyndall’s eyes widened, his confusion palpable. “What do you mean, you were there?”

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice steady. “After you sent that distress signal, Shadow showed up to help you. He fought Nightwing off long enough for you to escape, but… you never saw what happened next, did you?”

“No,” Wyndall admitted, his expression growing more bewildered. “I just assumed Shadow got away. No one’s heard from him since then.”

Y/N’s gaze dropped to the table, his fingers fidgeting restlessly. “He didn’t get away, Wyndall. Nightwing caught him and delivered him straight to Batman.”

Wyndall’s face shifted from confusion to shock, his voice incredulous. “Wait, how do you know all of this? Did Shadow somehow get a message out?”

“No,” Y/N said, his voice low and pained. “I know because… I am Shadow.”

For a moment, Wyndall simply stared at him, his expression a mix of disbelief and astonishment. “What? But… how? Shadow was an Alpha. He fought Nightwing and held his own—”

“Because that’s what everyone assumed,” Y/N interjected, his voice urgent but steady. “Everyone believed Shadow had to be an Alpha because no one wanted to imagine that an Omega could stand a chance against someone like Nightwing without being one or even a Beta. But I’m telling you the truth, Wyndall. I am Shadow.”

The room seemed to hold its breath, and Wyndall’s eyes were wide, his mouth slightly agape. “Why are you telling me this now?” he finally asked, his voice a mixture of awe and disbelief.

Y/N leaned closer, his voice barely above a whisper but heavy with desperation. “Because I need someone I can trust, Wyndall. And right now, you’re one of the few who can help me.” He paused, taking a shaky breath. “Those vigilantes—Nightwing, Batman, Red Robin, Robin—all of them, they aren’t the heroes everyone thinks they are. They claim to protect everyone, Alphas, Betas, Omegas alike. But behind the mask, they’re just like the people we’ve had to fight against all our lives—using their power to control, to dominate, all in the name of the so-called ‘greater good.’ They see us Omegas as objects, as lesser beings meant to be used and owned.”

Wyndall’s eyes widened, a mix of shock and horror etched across his features. “I… I don’t understand. How could you know all of this?”

Y/N’s voice turned bitter, the words laced with the pain of everything he’d endured. “Because I’ve been their prisoner for the past seven months, Wyndall. That night, when Nightwing attacked you, it was all a setup to lure me in. He ambushed me, forced himself on me, and then dragged me straight to his ‘leader,’ Batman. They didn’t care about right or wrong—they just wanted to control me.”

The horror in Wyndall’s expression deepened, and Y/N pressed on, his words filled with raw emotion. “Batman forced me to join his little band of vigilantes, but that wasn’t even the worst part. He handed me over to Nightwing, made me his breeding stock, his Omega—forcing me into a role I never wanted. They used my biology against me, calling me a ‘liability,’ and made it clear that if I didn’t comply, I’d remain their captive indefinitely. I was stripped of everything—my freedom, my autonomy, my very identity—just so they could break me into the ‘doting husband’ Nightwing wanted.”

Wyndall’s face paled, his voice trembling with disbelief. “But… why would they do this? They’re supposed to be the protectors, the ones who fight for people like us.”

“They’re just as ruthless as the worst Alphas we’ve faced,” Y/N replied bitterly. “They justify their actions as ‘necessary’ for Gotham’s safety, but it’s all about power. They took everything from me, and now I need to take it back. I need your help to get away from them, Wyndall. I need to be free.”

Wyndall’s face was a storm of horror, shock, and overwhelming guilt. The hero who had once saved him—the Omega who had answered his call for help, risking everything—had been reduced to a prisoner, punished for simply wanting to protect others. Y/N’s revelation struck him deeply, each word a painful reminder of the countless Omegas Shadow had saved, only to become the one who needed saving most.

The fallout from Shadow’s disappearance had been swift and brutal. Without the Omega Savior patrolling the streets, crimes against Omegas surged. Alphas and Betas, unrestrained by fear of reprisal, resumed their abusive behaviors with a renewed sense of entitlement. Wyndall himself had narrowly escaped several attacks, each incident making him wonder where the vigilante who had once been their shield had gone.

Now, knowing the truth, anger burned within him—an anger fueled by betrayal. The same heroes Wyndall had once looked to for protection were nothing more than hypocrites, preying on the very people they claimed to protect. It was a story Wyndall knew all too well; he'd seen it before, but this? This was the breaking point. They had used him as bait to ensnare another Omega—his own friend.

But the family of vigilantes had miscalculated. They didn’t know that Wyndall had connections of his own. Many of those Y/N had saved had become allies and friends, loyal to the vigilante who had risked everything for them. One Alpha in particular—Leo—had been frantic over Y/N’s sudden disappearance, even more after an apparent incident at Y/N's apartment. When Wyndall told him the truth, Leo would be more than ready to act.

Wyndall’s eyes blazed with fierce resolve. “What do you need me to do?” he asked, his voice steady and filled with unwavering determination.

Tears stung Y/N’s eyes, seeing his friend's absolute support. He knew it wouldn't be easy, had witnessed how resourceful and and calculating the Dark Knight and his entourage of so-called heroes were. But, he could also feel that small spark of hope, a flame that was so tiny, but all he had to hold on to for the seven six months he was in that manor by himself, get just a bit bigger. It was a reminder that now, after so long being ioslated, he wasn’t fighting this battle alone anymore.

Tears pricked Y/N’s eyes, a mix of relief and gratitude overwhelming him. He hadn’t expected such unwavering support, even from Wyndall, and the weight of it settled heavily in his chest. Y/N had seen firsthand how calculating and ruthless Bruce and his so-called heroes could be. He knew escaping them would be no easy feat. But in this moment, he felt a small spark of hope—a spark that had kept him alive through the six agonizing months of captivity.

It wasn’t much, just a faint, flickering flame that had been his only source of light in the darkness. But now, that flame burned just a little brighter, fanned by the knowledge that he wasn’t alone anymore. For the first time since his capture, Y/N felt a surge of genuine hope.

Over the following weeks, Y/N's life at Wayne Enterprises fell into a careful rhythm. He balanced the act of appearing compliant with his covert plotting. Each morning, he endured the routine of waking up in Dick’s suffocating embrace, forced smiles and empty pleasantries with Bruce and the rest of the Bat-Family. At work, however, Y/N found a semblance of freedom—a familiar but cautious sense of normalcy.

Bruce seemed genuinely pleased to have Y/N back in the corporate fold, which worked to the Omega's advantage. One afternoon, Bruce invited Y/N to lunch under the guise of a business meeting. Y/N kept his face neutral as Bruce droned on about Wayne Enterprises' future and potential joint projects with the city’s police department, but internally, he was calculating how to extract more information that could aid his escape.

"I’m glad you’ve come back to us," Bruce said earnestly between bites of a gourmet salad. "I’ve always believed you were a good fit here, even before things... escalated. You’ve always had a strong sense of justice, Y/N. And I know that’s something Dick admires in you too.”

Y/N forced a small smile, hiding the unease that gnawed at him. He nodded politely. “I appreciate that, Mr. Wayne. I just want to make the best of things, you know?”

Bruce’s expression softened, and he leaned in conspiratorially. “You know, I’m very fond of you. You’re strong, resilient—an excellent match for my son. It’s not easy being part of this family, but you’re handling it well.”

Y/N felt a bitter laugh claw at the back of his throat but managed to keep it suppressed. “Thank you, Bruce,” he replied simply, knowing full well that pushing back or showing resistance would only complicate things further. He needed Bruce to believe in the facade he’d carefully constructed. Even if the billionaire was aware of his scheming which he wouldn't be surprised by, the smartest thing for him to do would be to continue the act. It'd gotten him this far.

After the lunch meeting, Y/N made his way back to his office, his mind already buzzing with plans. As he stepped inside, he found Wyndall waiting, holding a stack of documents that were mostly for show. Wyndall’s eyes held a flicker of excitement, a silent acknowledgment that their plans were advancing.

“Everything go okay with Bruce?” Wyndall asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Same as always,” Y/N said dryly, then added with a teasing smirk, “I noticed he’s been laying on the charm with you lately.”

Wyndall’s cheeks flushed slightly, but he rolled his eyes. “Please. The man flirts like it's part of his job description. But hey, if it keeps him distracted and off your back, I’m not complaining.”

Y/N chuckled, but his eyes were serious. “Keep playing along, Wyndall. The less he suspects, the better.”

As the weeks passed, Wyndall became Y/N’s lifeline, relaying coded messages to trusted contacts on the outside. Y/N’s old college friends, the ones who had helped him build his vigilante persona from scratch, were still well-connected and resourceful. They had provided Y/N with gear, information, and safe houses back when he was still able to operate freely. Now, Wyndall was reconnecting with them, subtly conveying Y/N’s situation and gauging their willingness to help.

“Good news,” Wyndall whispered one morning as they met in the break room under the guise of grabbing coffee. “I’ve reached out to Leo and some of your old allies. They’re all in. They’re ready to move as soon as you give the word.”

Y/N’s heart lifted, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to feel hopeful. “Thank you, Wyndall,” he murmured, his voice sincere. “I owe you more than I can ever repay.”

Wyndall shook his head, his voice equally quiet but firm. “No, Y/N. We owe you. You saved us all when no one else would. It’s our turn to save you.”

Despite the growing sense of hope, Y/N knew he couldn’t afford to get complacent. Every move had to be calculated, every interaction with the Waynes carefully managed. He continued to play the dutiful partner at Wayne Manor, enduring Dick’s increasingly desperate attempts to bond with him. Though the sex was no less aggressive or possessive, there was a desperation to it now—a frantic need to solidify a connection that simply wasn’t taking hold.

His obsession with impregnating Y/N persisted, though the physical intensity of his efforts varied. Despite Bruce’s suggestion to ease off, Dick remained fixated on the idea that a child would be the ultimate bond between them. He believed that Y/N's resistance could be overcome through sheer persistence and frequent sexual encounters.

His desperation was rooted in the unique nature of bonding itself. It’s not just a bite or a single act of marking; it’s a series of connected actions—intimacy, emotional vulnerability, and a deep mental connection that needs to be nurtured over time. Bonds that form willingly tend to be stronger and healthier, but forced bonds are often unstable, marked by volatility and strain. It is why mating bonds hold a higher status than legal marriages; the physical and psychological ramifications of breaking one can be devastating, even fatal, to one or both partners.

The theory that pregnancy could facilitate bonding has persisted for years, though it has never been definitively proven. Researchers have long speculated that a pregnancy between an Alpha and an Omega, or even a Beta and an Omega, could help solidify a bond—even in cases where one partner is unwilling or resisting. The rationale is that the hormonal and biological changes triggered by pregnancy may influence the subconscious bond between partners, making it more difficult to resist.

For Alphas like Dick, this theory isn’t merely speculative science—it’s a lifeline, a desperate bid for control. The idea that a child could finally cement the bond between him and Y/N has become an obsession, a relentless pursuit driven by his natural dominant Alpha nature, paired with his possessive attitude and fear of losing Y/N entirely. To Dick, a child isn’t just about family or legacy; it’s the ultimate means of tying Y/N to him permeanently, both physically and emotionally.

Despite Bruce’s insistence on a more measured approach, Dick continues his efforts to impregnate Y/N. The physical intensity of his encounters varies—sometimes brutal and aggressive, other times slow and almost pleading—but the end goal remains the same: breaking Y/N's resistance and establishing a bond that has so far eluded him.

For Y/N, each encounter is a twisted blend of rage and resignation. He knows exactly what Dick is trying to achieve, and while the physical invasion is brutal in itself, the deeper violation is the attempt to force a bond that could have devastating consequences for both of them—especially for the Omega.

The safest way to dissolve a bond is gradual separation, letting it fade over time. Abrupt breaks or disruptions, however, can be severe. Infidelity, abuse, emotional strain, or even minor conflicts can weaken a bond, causing mild depression, anxiety, and a lingering sense of emptiness. But with a stronger, more established bond, the fallout is far worse: severe trauma, debilitating illness, and, in extreme cases, even death.

This is Dick's ultimate goal and the reality Y/N faces—control through leverage. If he succeeds in cementing a bond, any chance of Y/N escaping the Waynes' grasp would be shattered. Y/N's resistance isn't merely about preserving his autonomy; it’s about protecting what little remains of his mind and spirit, still unbroken.

Every time Dick’s efforts fall short, it only fuels the Alpha’s resolve to try again, believing that persistence will eventually wear down Y/N's resistance. Dick’s actions are driven by more than just possessiveness—they're also fueled by a deep-seated fear. If he fails to bond with Y/N, he risks losing him entirely, and that’s something Dick is determined to avoid at all costs.

Even Bruce, as calculated as he is, understands the stakes. He knows that Dick’s obsession is not just about Y/N as an Omega; it’s about what Y/N represents to Dick—an unfulfilled desire, a sense of ownership that remains incomplete. Bruce’s suggestion to ease off on the intensity was not out of compassion, but strategy. He recognizes that forcing a bond could backfire, potentially breaking Y/N’s spirit beyond repair or even driving him to further rebellion.

But for now, Dick remains undeterred, holding onto the belief that Y/N’s body—if not his mind—will eventually submit. The desperate cycle continues, each encounter a brutal mix of possessive lust and forced intimacy, leaving Y/N with the bitter understanding that Dick will not stop until the bond is made, one way or another.

Whenever Y/N was at work, Dick would often show up unannounced, using the guise of a lunch date. But those visits, once casual, quickly escalated into increasingly aggressive displays of possession.

After one particularly disruptive incident, Bruce had to intervene. “Dick, you need to control yourself,” Bruce warned, his tone stern but not entirely unsympathetic. “Your behavior is affecting Y/N’s work—and the company’s reputation.”

Dick’s response was defiant. “I’m just trying to solidify our bond, Bruce. You of all people should understand that.”

But even Bruce’s reprimands couldn’t completely curb Dick’s obsessive behavior. He found ways to maintain his hold over Y/N, even outside of work.

One night, Dick’s patrol had taken an unexpected detour. With the city quiet and most of Gotham’s rogues either hiding or licking their wounds, there was more than enough time for him to indulge his carnal desires. It was the perfect opportunity to take Y/N for a spin—both literally and figuratively. As Nightwing, he often let his impulses run wild, and this night was no different.

The Batmobile’s interior was dimly lit, the blue glow of its dashboard casting dark shadows over Nightwing’s form. His muscular frame, clad in the iconic black and blue suit, exuded raw power. The sleek, black leather hugged every inch of him, making his presence even more intimidating, yet undeniably alluring. His signature bird emblem gleamed against the dim light, and his grin was nothing short of devilish.

Y/N was thrown onto his lap the moment the autopilot was engaged, forced to straddle the Alpha in the cramped vehicle. “Let’s see how fast we can go while you ride me,” Nightwing taunted, his voice deep and filled with lust, the heat of his breath fanning Y/N’s cheek. It was a dangerous game, but one that had become all too familiar between them.

Y/N's body tensed instinctively, trying to maintain the last fragments of resistance. “You’re insane,” he managed to whisper, but his tone lacked conviction. His Omega instincts were betraying him, responding to the heat and the primal energy radiating from Nightwing.

“I might be,” Dick admitted with a smirk, his hands already moving to slide up Y/N’s thighs, feeling the taut muscles beneath. “But you love it, don’t you?” He continued his teasing touches, rough hands squeezing the Omega’s hips possessively before pushing up Y/N’s shirt, exposing his chest.

Y/N shivered at the contact, torn between defiance and the undeniable pull of his biological instincts. His body betrayed him, slick starting to pool beneath him, dampening the fabric of his pants. It was humiliating to be so responsive, but it was the truth—his Omega nature couldn’t resist the call of a dominant Alpha, especially one who wielded power so effortlessly.

Dick noticed immediately, a satisfied chuckle escaping his lips. “See? I knew you couldn’t help yourself. You were made for this, Y/N.” He shifted his hips upwards, grinding against Y/N’s entrance, the bulge in his suit pressing insistently. “You can try to fight it, but we both know who’s in control here.”

Y/N tried to maintain his composure, his breathing shallow and erratic. He could feel the hard press of Dick’s arousal against him, the thick heat promising both pleasure and domination. The confined space of the Batmobile only added to the intensity, making it feel as if there was nowhere to escape—even if he wanted to.

“Remember the first time we were here?” Dick whispered into Y/N’s ear, his voice dripping with sinful nostalgia. “You were so stubborn then, trying to push me away even as your body begged for more. I told you then that I’d make you mine, and look where we are now.” He nipped at Y/N’s earlobe before tracing a line down his neck, the touch both possessive and tender.

Y/N whimpered, torn between pushing Dick away and giving in to the overwhelming desire. His slick was embarrassingly copious now, dripping down his thighs, betraying his internal struggle. Dick’s touch was rough, his fingers sliding into the wet heat with a confidence that spoke of ownership.

“Feel how wet you are?” Dick taunted, pumping his fingers inside Y/N with slow, deliberate strokes. “All for me. You’re practically begging to be fucked.” His voice was thick with lust, his blue eyes gleaming behind the black mask as he watched Y/N’s face contort with conflicting emotions.

Y/N’s head fell back against the cool glass of the Batmobile’s window, his body trembling as Dick’s fingers played him like an instrument. He hated how good it felt, how his Omega instincts urged him to submit completely, to let the Alpha take control. The shame was there, but it was drowned out by the flood of arousal that Dick had expertly drawn from him.

“Say it,” Dick whispered harshly, his lips brushing against Y/N’s ear. “Admit that you want it.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, his voice barely audible as he struggled to find words. “I… I hate you,” he choked out, his tone laced with both anger and reluctant desire.

Dick’s grin widened, his fingers thrusting harder in response. “I can work with that,” he said with dark amusement. “But I want more than just your hate. I want you to admit that you want this—that you need it.” He leaned back, his free hand moving to undo his own zipper, releasing the long, throbbing length that had been straining against his suit.

Y/N’s eyes widened, the sight of the Alpha’s cock sending a fresh wave of arousal through him. What he lacked in girth, he made up for in length, the tip already glistening with precum—a sight he had become shamefully accustomed to. “No,” he managed to whisper, shaking his head weakly. But his body betrayed him, shifting forward involuntarily, driven by instinct.

“Yes,” Dick insisted, his voice low and commanding. He positioned Y/N over his lap, the head of his cock pressing insistently against the Omega’s dripping entrance. “Say it, Y/N. Admit I'm your Alpha.”

Tears of frustration welled up in Y/N’s eyes, his body shaking with need and defiance. But the pressure was too much, the thick heat of Dick’s cock against his opening breaking down the last of his resistance. “You… You're my Alpha,” he finally confessed, his voice a mix of desperation and surrender.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Dick growled, and with a sharp thrust, he buried himself inside Y/N, filling him completely. The Omega cried out, his body arching as he felt the throbbing tool plunge deep into his depths, stretching him open. It was both painful and satisfying, a reminder of the power dynamic that defined their twisted relationship.

Dick’s hands gripped Y/N’s hips, guiding him into a punishing rhythm. “Ride me, baby,” he ordered, his voice rough with pleasure. “Let’s see just how fast we can go.”

Y/N’s body moved on instinct, hips grinding down as he adjusted to the fullness inside him. The car’s interior was filled with the obscene sounds of their coupling—the wet slap of skin against skin, the creak of leather, and the muffled groans that escaped Y/N’s lips.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Dick grunted, his hands digging into Y/N’s hips as he thrust upwards, meeting the Omega’s movements with brutal force. He was relentless, his pace quickening as they chased their shared release. “You were made for this, Y/N. Made to take my cock, to be filled by me.”

Y/N’s mind was a haze of pleasure and shame, the desperate need to climax overtaking any rational thought. He hated how much he craved the Alpha’s touch, but in this moment, he was helpless to resist. “F-Fuck,” he stuttered, his voice breaking as he felt the familiar tightening in his passage.

Dick’s grip tightened, his thrusts growing more erratic as he neared his own release. “That’s it, baby,” he encouraged, his voice hoarse. “Cum for me. Show me how much you love being fucked by your Alpha.”

With a final, shuddering moan, Y/N’s body gave in, his climax crashing over him in waves. His slick gushed around Dick’s cock, the wet heat driving the Alpha over the edge. Dick buried himself deep inside, his knot swelling as he filled Y/N with his seed.

For a moment, they were both still, their heavy breathing the only sound in the car. The bond they both sought to forge and resist hung thick in the air, a reminder of the twisted connection that kept them tethered.

“Filthy Omega,” Dick whispered harshly against Y/N’s ear, his voice dripping with dark satisfaction. “Look at the mess you made. Slicked all over my cock like a needy slut.” The Alpha’s words were a twisted mix of degradation and praise, sending a new wave of heat rushing through Y/N’s trembling body. The confined space of the Batmobile only seemed to amplify the raw, primal energy between them.

Dick’s hands gripped Y/N’s hips with a bruising force as he pulled out, letting his spent cock slip free with a wet sound. Y/N’s thighs quivered, slick and cum dripping down his skin, creating an obscene trail of fluids that smeared over the dark leather of the center console. The Omega’s breath came in ragged gasps, the lingering pleasure of his climax mingling with a deep, humiliating shame.

“But don’t worry,” Dick continued, his voice low and possessive, lips brushing against the shell of Y/N’s ear. “I’ll clean you up. Just like I always do.” There was a sinister tenderness in his tone, as if he relished the contrast between his rough dominance and the twisted care he took afterward.

Before Y/N could fully comprehend what was happening, Dick roughly lifted him off his lap, flipping him over the center console with practiced ease. Y/N’s face pressed into the cool leather of the passenger seat, his ass raised high in the air while own his aching, leaking Omega penis was trapped awkwardly against the console. The position was utterly degrading, a blatant reminder of his vulnerability and the absolute control the Alpha held over him.

“Stay right there,” Dick ordered, his grip firm as he held Y/N’s thighs apart, exposing the slick, swollen flesh still glistening with his cum. There was no mercy in his touch, only a possessive hunger that burned in his eyes as he took in the sight of the Omega’s dripping hole.

Y/N’s instinct was to close his legs, to hide himself from the Alpha’s ravenous gaze, but Dick’s hands kept him spread open, fingers digging into the soft flesh with bruising intent. “You taste so good, baby,” he murmured, the anticipation thick in his voice.

And then, without any warning, Dick’s mouth was on him.

The first swipe of the Alpha’s tongue was hot and wet, lapping hungrily at the slick-smeared grooves. Y/N’s body jolted, a shocked gasp escaping his lips as the sensation rippled through him. He tried to squirm away from the overwhelming contact, his instincts telling him to flee, but Dick’s hands were relentless, holding him in place with a force that made it clear there was no escape.

“Stay still,” Dick commanded, his voice a guttural growl as his tongue delved deeper, greedily tasting the mix of their fluids. The sound of his mouth working over Y/N’s sensitive flesh was lewd and messy, echoing obscenely within the confines of the Batmobile’s soundproof interior.

Y/N’s entire body trembled, every nerve ignited by the Alpha’s relentless assault. The shame of being spread and licked clean like this was almost unbearable, yet the sensation itself was maddeningly good. His mind screamed at him to resist, but his Omega instincts betrayed him, sending pulses of pleasure through his overstimulated core.

“Look at you,” Dick mocked between rough licks, his breath hot against Y/N’s slickened skin. “Still so sensitive… still leaking for me.” His voice was a mix of cruelty and dark amusement, each word punctuated by another obscene slurp. “You were made for this, weren’t you? Made to be fucked, bred, and tasted by your Alpha.”

Y/N’s thighs quivered uncontrollably, his breath hitching with each swipe of Dick’s tongue. He tried to press his hips forward, seeking some kind of relief from the intensity, but Dick’s strong grip kept him pinned firmly in place. The Alpha’s mouth was merciless, alternating between long, languid licks and sharp, teasing nips that sent jolts of pleasure-pain through Y/N’s body.

Tears pricked at Y/N’s eyes, a mix of humiliation and desperate arousal welling up inside him. He hated how much his body responded to this, how his instincts pushed him to arch further, to present himself even more to the Alpha’s insatiable mouth. “P-please,” he finally managed to whisper, his voice barely audible and thick with shame.

“Please, what?” Dick mocked, his voice muffled as his tongue continued its sinful exploration. “Please stop? Or please keep going?” He pulled back just enough to let the words hang in the air, the wet, slick sounds of his mouth pausing for a moment.

Y/N squeezed his eyes shut, the shame of the situation overwhelming. “Please…” he choked out, not even sure what he was begging for anymore.

Dick’s laughter was low and satisfied, a dark rumble that sent a shiver down Y/N’s spine. “Good Omega,” he murmured approvingly, before diving back in with renewed vigor. His tongue pressed deep, swirling around Y/N’s entrance, tasting every last drop of slick and cum that still clung to the Omega’s abused hole.

The rest of the patrol was spent with Dick’s tongue buried deep inside Y/N, licking and tasting until he was satisfied. The Omega’s cries were silenced by the Batmobile’s soundproof casing, the outside world blissfully unaware of the depravity taking place within Gotham’s iconic vehicle.

And when it was finally over, Y/N was left trembling and spent, the lingering taste of shame and reluctant pleasure still heavy on his tongue.

It wasn’t just confined to work or the Batmobile. About a month after the apartment incident, Dick fell into another rut—a state that left Y/N bracing for days of relentless, obsessive attention. And the Alpha did not disappoint.

The first night, there was no pretense of gentleness or affection. The moment Dick caught Y/N’s scent, his eyes darkened with raw, desperate hunger. He didn’t waste time with words or coaxing; instead, he moved with urgency, his hands roughly grabbing Y/N’s arms and pinning him against the nearest wall. The Omega struggled instinctively, trying to twist away from the Alpha’s iron grip, but it was useless.

“You know exactly what’s coming,” Dick growled, his voice hoarse and rough, thick with desire and frustration. “No fighting it.”

Before Y/N could even attempt to pull free, Dick lifted him off the ground with frightening ease, throwing him over his broad shoulder. The familiar feeling of being draped over Dick’s muscular frame sent a mix of anger, humiliation, and an involuntary thrill through Y/N’s body. His legs dangled uselessly, and his vision tilted as he was carried down the hall like nothing more than a prize to be claimed.

“Sooner or later, this bond is going to take,” Dick murmured, his voice a mix of satisfaction and lingering frustration. “And once it does, you’ll finally be mine.”

The sessions were grueling. Each attempt at conceiving and bonding left Y/N’s body sore and leaking with slick and cum. But despite Dick’s persistence, Y/N’s body continued to reject the bond. The psychological strain, however, was beginning to show. Every time a bite faded and every time knotting knotting that failed in resulting in pregnancy, the Alpha’s frustration became more evident.

“You promised me,” Dick murmured darkly one night, his sweaty, muscular body pressed against the Omega's as his hand possessively stroked his abdomen. “We’ll have a family. I’ll find a way to make it happen.”

Y/N’s only response was a silent, simmering hatred masked behind feigned exhaustion.

Sensing Dick’s growing frustration, the Wayne family attempted to step in. Concerned by the mounting tension, Bruce called the doctor once more, seeking answers to Y/N’s continued resistance. The doctor’s explanation remained unchanged: Y/N’s body was actively rejecting both the bond and Dick’s sperm, a direct result of severe psychological trauma that had created a physiological barrier. It was a rare but documented occurrence, particularly among male Omegas, who were not only the most vulnerable in societal dynamics but also among the most coveted and frequently subjected to forced bonding attempts.

The news struck Dick hard. His confidence, usually unwavering, began to crack. Y/N, however, saw it as an opportunity. The more desperate Dick became, the more vulnerable his family’s control grew.

Despite the emotional toll of Dick’s rut, Y/N continued his secret alliance-building at Wayne Enterprises. His interactions with Wyndall became more strategic, filled with coded messages and clandestine planning. The growing network of Omegas—many of whom were eager to support Shadow—provided a sense of hope, albeit a fragile one.

Y/N’s initial assessment of the Bat-Family, made during his first few weeks at Wayne Manor, had been thorough but cautious. He’d known from the start that escaping would require understanding not just the physical layout of the manor, but also the dynamics and individual traits of its inhabitants. The Waynes weren’t merely skilled fighters; they were highly trained vigilantes, each with a distinct approach to strategy and conflict. It made them formidable as a unit—and unpredictable as individuals.

Despite the varying levels of threat each member posed, Y/N had found ways to navigate their behaviors and interactions. It wasn’t about defeating them outright; it was about identifying who could be manipulated, distracted, or potentially turned against one another.

Damian, for example, was observant but impulsive. His youthful arrogance and quick temper often led him to act before thinking, making him a potential loose cannon. Y/N knew that if it came down to it, he could exploit Damian’s need for validation and his rash tendencies, possibly leading the youngest Wayne into a trap of his own making.

Tim, on the other hand, was far more methodical. The former Red Robin had an analytical mind and an impressive ability to piece together puzzles, making him a significant threat to Y/N’s plans. Y/N would need to be especially cautious around him, careful not to leave any traceable patterns or inconsistencies that Tim could latch onto. Tim’s tendency to overthink was both a strength and a weakness, and Y/N planned to use that to his advantage—feeding him conflicting information that would hopefully slow down any investigations.

Jason, meanwhile, presented a different kind of risk. Unlike his brothers, Jason was less interested in subtlety and more inclined toward direct confrontation. His approach was aggressive, even ruthless, which could be both an advantage and a danger to Y/N. If Y/N could find a way to manipulate Jason’s anger—perhaps by playing into his ongoing tensions with Bruce—he could turn Red Hood’s unpredictable nature into a useful diversion. But it was a risky move, one that would have to be executed perfectly to avoid immediate, violent repercussions.

Bruce himself was a more complex adversary. As both Batman and the head of the Wayne family, he was the lynchpin of their entire operation. Bruce’s reputation as the world’s greatest detective wasn’t merely a title; it was a proven reality. He had an uncanny ability to see through deceptions and understand the motivations of those around him. However, Y/N had noticed one critical factor: Bruce’s loyalty to his sons often clouded his judgment. Y/N realized that Bruce’s greatest weakness was his desire to maintain the family’s unity and ensure his children’s happiness, particularly Dick’s. This vulnerability could be exploited—albeit carefully. It was likely the only reason Bruce had agreed to allow Y/N to return to Wayne Enterprises and to have some semblance of freedom.

Despite Bruce's reputation as the ultimate tactician and the "World's Greatest Detective," Y/N’s real adversary wasn’t the Batman. It was the unassuming figure who, for decades, had stood silently at Bruce’s side, managing the household and, in many ways, the family itself: Alfred Pennyworth.

Alfred was a master of observation, capable of picking up on even the smallest discrepancies in behavior or routine. Y/N had quickly realized that the butler’s quiet presence wasn’t merely a sign of deference; it was a strategic position that allowed him to monitor every aspect of the manor and its inhabitants. Where Bruce’s vigilance was focused outward, constantly searching for threats to Gotham, Alfred’s was internal, designed to maintain control over the household’s dynamics and detect any signs of rebellion or dissent.

Still, Alfred’s vigilance remained a constant threat. The butler’s piercing gaze and unyielding loyalty to the Waynes forced Y/N to tread carefully. Every move, every interaction was carefully calculated to avoid arousing Alfred’s suspicions.

Though, during one late-night conversation, Alfred confronted Y/N directly. “You’re a clever one, aren’t you, Master Y/N? I imagine you’ve considered all the possible outcomes of your situation.”

Y/N met his gaze evenly, refusing to flinch. “I’m just trying to make the best of what I have, Alfred. Isn’t that what we all do?”

The butler’s expression was unreadable, but his words were clear. “Just remember, some battles are won not with cunning, but with endurance. This family is not easily bested.”

If the Bat-Family were a fortress, Alfred was its foundation—unshakable, impenetrable, and always aware.

Y/N had been somewhat prepared for the challenges presented by the Waynes. He’d expected Bruce’s overprotectiveness, Dick’s possessiveness, and even Damian’s unpredictability. What he hadn’t fully anticipated was the sheer extent of Alfred’s influence. The butler wasn’t just a servant; he was the glue that held the family together, the one who managed both their personal lives and their vigilante endeavors with meticulous precision.

It didn’t take long for Y/N to realize that if anyone could see through his carefully constructed facade, it was Alfred.

The butler’s scrutiny was constant, though never overt. He never interrogated Y/N directly, nor did he engage in overt displays of power. Instead, Alfred’s approach was subtle—an innocuous question here, a knowing glance there. It was as if the butler had a sixth sense for deception, able to detect the faintest hint of dishonesty in the air.

Alfred’s presence was pervasive, almost omnipresent. No matter where Y/N was in the manor, Alfred always seemed to be nearby—whether it was delivering a well-timed cup of tea, silently observing from a doorway, or appearing suddenly to provide a neatly folded towel when Y/N returned from a shower. Y/N had once joked to himself that Alfred could probably hear a pin drop from three floors away.

He wasn’t wrong.

It was the incident with the break-in that solidified Alfred’s position as Y/N’s most formidable opponent. Y/N had been in his room, scribbling notes in a coded shorthand he’d developed to document the mansion’s security layout and defenses. The sound of shattering glass downstairs had immediately put him on edge. He was about to investigate when his designated phone rang, Alfred’s voice calm and authoritative on the other end.

“Master Y/N, please remain in your room and lock the door. Master Dick insists.”

Y/N had considered ignoring the instruction, but his curiosity got the better of him. He made his way downstairs, staying low and quiet, only to witness Alfred dispatching one of the intruders with surprising efficiency. The old man’s movements were precise and practiced, each strike deliberate and effective. The sight was both impressive and unnerving, a stark reminder that Alfred wasn’t merely a caretaker—he was a trained operative, one who had likely seen and done far more than most of Gotham’s criminals.

But the true revelation came when Y/N spotted the second intruder sneaking up behind him. Before the guy could strike, Alfred was there, intercepting the attacker with a level of skill that bordered on lethal. The quick takedown was both brutal and controlled, a clear demonstration of the butler’s combat prowess.

It was at that moment that Y/N understood the full extent of Alfred’s capabilities. The butler wasn’t just aware of Y/N’s movements—he was actively countering them, anticipating potential threats before they could fully manifest. If Y/N was going to succeed in his escape, he would need to be more cunning than ever before. Alfred would be the one who could unravel his plans before they even began, the silent force that could keep Y/N trapped indefinitely.

“So...Alfred is the real boss around here,” Y/N muttered to himself one night, staring up at the ceiling in the darkness of his room. It wasn’t an exaggeration. The butler was the linchpin, the one person Y/N would have to outmaneuver to gain his freedom.

As Y/N continued to build his network of allies at Wayne Enterprises, he remained hyper-aware of Alfred’s constant surveillance. Each interaction, every coded message to Wyndall or whispered conversation with a trusted colleague, had to be meticulously planned and executed. There was no room for error. One misstep, one poorly timed message, and Alfred would undoubtedly be there, ready to intervene.

The looming presence of the butler was both a challenge and a motivator. If Y/N could manage to deceive Alfred, he could deceive anyone. It was the ultimate test of his cunning and resolve—a psychological chess game where a single wrong move could cost him everything.

“Don’t think I’ve lost sight of your true intentions, Master Y/N,” Alfred said one morning, catching Y/N’s gaze in a moment of startling clarity.

Y/N’s heart raced, but he managed a small, defiant smile. “You’d be a fool to think I’m not planning something, Alfred.”

The butler’s eyes narrowed, but there was a hint of respect behind the suspicion. “Just remember, Master Y/N—escaping may not be the hardest part. Surviving the aftermath will be.”

He would escape and he would survive. Alfred Pennyworth might be the final boss, but Y/N was prepared to play the long game—one calculated move at a time.

This story concludes on Archive of Our Own...

☀️ | Dick Grayson/Nightwing | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

🌗 | Nightwing & Shadow | 🌗 (this image was generated by Bing AI)

[gonnalosemydougdimmadomedamnmind]

It's literally impossible to read bat fanfiction because it's all based off those ridiculous fanon tropes that spread like crazy and people take as fucking biblical!!!!! Dick was never a jerk to Jason when he was Robin- they got along because Dick is mature as hell and in one retelling- Jason was a jerk to him!! And when he came back as Red Hood he had literally not a single damn reason to treat Dick like shit! Not a damn one! But he did, didn't he? Cause he's the fucking asshole! How dare you make Dick grovel towards that bastard! Dick has only ever tried to help him! Reached out during his Batman run, over and over! Also- Dick never put Jason in Arkham with Joker just a few cells down???? What the fuck! The Joker and all those other fuckers had been broken out of Arkham by Black Mask already for like the whole run??? Jason went to Arkham after losing to Dick, and Gordon put him in there because One he fucking deserved it, Two the literal circumstances?? And at that point!! Arkham was fucking rehabilitated itself!! By Dick!!! Because Bruce had him go undercover there for real, and Dick was actually tortured there before he got out!! So Dick put in the work to get that shit in order to actually help people!!

Dick never chose Damian over Tim- Tim refused to engage with him over his grief, shut him out, and left of his own devices! He never told Dick his suspicions on why Bruce was alive, never! And Tim is not the one to bring Bruce back either, there's a whole team at that point! Dick learns Bruce is alive through tossing his 'dead' body into a pit and the body comes to life as a zombie. Tim didn't tell him shit! Tim is also not a little crybaby- Damian cutting his line was a fucking blip on the page, he was momentarily shocked, that was it! He put Damian on his Hit List, which is why Damian cut his line. And his first attempt at "murder" is just pushing Tim off the dinosaur statue in the cave, he didn't go all assassin on him! Also Dick wasn't even there the first incident and wasn't told about the second incident. Alfred is the one who gave Damian Robin and Dick accepted him because he saw that Damian needed help! He needed guidance! He didn't fucking fire Tim the way Bruce fired him, and fuck all of you for thinking that Tim or Jason or fucking anyone has more right over Robin than Dick Fucking Grayson! He tried to promote Tim and Tim walked off. How dare yall make Dick fucking grovel towards that bastard!!!

Jason did try to kill all three of them!! Why does everyone just gloss over that like what the fuck??? Why does he get a pass for every shitty thing he's done??? "Bad writing" stfu this is the same dude that without hesitation kills random criminals, people who deal drugs, do you know how many random ass people deal drugs??? Jason doesn't give a single shit about being his own type of hero or saving Gotham his own way, nor do the people think of him as their savior!! Are you people fucking delusional?? I saw a post that said citizens would trust Jason over CASS and I cannot Believe the hallucinations yall are seeing???

It is literally downright impossible to find fics about Dick or Damian or Cass or fucking any of them that doesn't include these literal bullshit fanon takes!!! It's impossible!!! This fandom sucks!!!! You don't even need to go buy the comics, all these popular takes have been debunked right here on tumblr!!!! Also Dick can do literally everything!! He's hypercompetent as hell, die mad about it!! Jason doesn't like Wonder Woman???? Where the fuck did that come from??? Wayne Family Adventures is not real!!! Those people could not BE more out of character!!! Look at Bruce for crying out loud!!! Yall know that man ain't act like that!

Edit: leaving this here in case anyone wonders what my hot take is towards this question I was asked: "have you considered tho, that fanon is more fun..."

Well of course fanon is more fun if you're a fan of Jason or Tim. Fanon actively caters towards those two pasty white boys. Fanon actively shits on Dick and Damian though. And for Dick? He literally never did that shit! It is all made up! It's literal character assassination?? But by the fans?? And for Damian? He was 10!!! He grew up as an assassin! He was actively trying to grow with Dick's help! How can yall see him as the bad guy?? And not the literal bad guy, (Jason), and the 17 teen year old who literally fought him back btw, (Tim), like old boy did not act victimized the way you people portray. And Jesus for Cass? Cass is just a prop in fanon. So what exactly about this should be fun to me? Like seriously.

[unadulteratedsoulsweets]

A DC X DP IDEA #1 A mother’s love stretches throughout the realms

Imagine dis…

 What if Danny Fenton is a reincarnated version of Martha Wayne (I’d like to think that she is a badass woman, not your typical rich girl) When the portal accident happened he began remembering the life before Daniel “Danny” Fenton happened. At first, he thought that these memories are nothing more than ‘dreams’, as dreams kept us all day and are often forgotten the moment we wake up but every time he woke up from each ‘dream’ he kept remembering the love and fondness to a man who has the same built to his dad. The care, protectiveness, and love that he gave to Dani to a young male that looked like him, the feeling would cling to him throughout the day. The feeling of protectiveness would amplify his own. He wants nothing more than to find that blurred young boy and make sure that they are right. His core kept aching for that two individuals.

Far worse each year on a specific day. The horror and fear crawled up his spine as well the relief and safety towards the mystery boy.

The moment Danny turned 18 he was crowned as the High king in the Infinite Realm. The moment the crown and ring are within him he is bombarded with information about the information and secrets of the Infinite Realm, he also remembered his son.

He tried to find his husband, Thomas Wayne but was saddened that he couldn’t find his love. But also felt relief seeing that he found peace in his afterlife for him to move on.

After making sure that the balance is restored throughout the realm he wishes to see his son one more time. Using the information he got when he was crowned he navigated through the Infinity realms and entered the DC universe.

He turned invisible to see his son in Gotham, but what greeted him made him fear the worse.

There lay a very injured Batman, how did she know it has his son? Never heard of the phrasing “There is an endearing tenderness in the love of a mother to a son that transcends all other affections of the heart”

She knew that is her boy, and quickly turned to help his son. Learning under the teaching of the yetis, especially through Frostbite’s guidance he is able to make himself stable enough.

Pressing the panic button under his utility belt he can’t help but linger his eyes towards his boy.

His boy who has done much and given much, he who has so much to love to give, who gave all of his heart, body, soul, and mind to those he calls sons and those who he considers his kin, his boy who turned into a fine young man.

All of a sudden, he wasn’t in a grimy alley anymore but at the Wayne manor taking care of a 7-year-old Bruce who fell ill after playing under the rain.

Thomas his love, besides their son, whispers how he is handling that cold like a champ while Alfred is carrying an empty bowl of chicken soup out of the room.

He can’t help but go back to his old habits, rubbing his boy’s chubby cheeks, promising sweet words to his boy that It will be all right. While singing his lullaby for him.

The moment Nightwing appeared, a lingering cold air remained at the spot beside the man he call father.

It's been a few days since Bruce was recovered and healed up in the manor, having Dick fill in the gaps of Batman for a few days.

At the cave, Bruce is trying to recover the audio as well as the recordings through his cowl as he refused to be compromised. His children assured him that when the rest of them have gotten there he was all bandaged up and no one near could have been his savior. He refused to take the such chance.

The video is nothing more than a lost cause but the audio is clear enough for Batman to listen through it.

The situation, the faint feeling of fingers rubbing his cheeks, and the whispering words of reassurance made him remember but it was the lullaby that sealed the deal and made him freeze up

Come stop your crying

It will be alright

Just take my hand

Hold it tight

I will protect you

From all around you

I will be here

Don't you cry

No…

There is only one person who knows that song… that night he knew he looked like a man on a mission.

Who is that person who clearly knows his mother’s lullaby to him?

Somewhere near Crime alley, Danny is thinking of meeting the rest of his grandchildren's booth that was adopted officially and unofficially by his son's booth in and out of their suits.

As well as thinking of ways to heal and avenge his second grandchild looks like Jason got his hatred on clowns.

Hey! He may be Martha Wayne at one point but he is also currently Danny Phantom who is the king of Infinite realms, Champion of Balance but most importantly hates clown with passion as well willing to beat that clown up for killing his grandson.

 PS: If someone out there wanting to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so.

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

Batfam/Batboys with a Yandere S/O

[This is something I wanted to write personally and decided to share with all of ya'll. Please remember this is fiction, since it has come to my attention that it needs to be stated. I do not condone this behavior, I just enjoy writing it. Thank you, enjoy.]

-

Batman/Bruce Wayne:

Yan S/O is devoted to him, would literally kill anyone just to make him happy.

Even if Bruce knows that your love for him isn't healthy, he doesn't let you go. He honestly finds comfort in your love, it's tight like collar on the both of you. Yet, he can't help himself but let your chains keep him together.

You love him to the point of no return. Willing to forsake the world, morals, everything. Even Talia can't do that. You want to hold him and keep him safe in your sickingly-sweet embrace.

Bruce has a case of savior complex with you, thinking he can change you. Where your desires to coat Gotham in red aren't necessary for him to love you.

But to you, it matters that you try to kill anyone in your way to Bruce's heart, or maybe just managing to keep them at arms-length.

Those finky, so-called, "villians" are apart of your anger. They CRAVE Batmans attention, which should only be for YOU.

Bruce and Batman do their best to keep you from killing villians. Most times failing and trying to cover it up for your sake and his reputation.

I could see Yan S/O just straight up telling Bruce that they are gonna raise his childern..

Which is kinda true, since they managed to get Alfred's approval. 《No clue how...》

Anyway, Yan S/O is around for all of the Batfam. Being the kindest and sweetest parental figure ever. Often threatening and hurting villians when they try to get in the way of family outings or straight up killing them under the guise of "self-defense."

You teach your way of "love" to Dick and then so on and so fourth. Causing a horrible cycle and generation of yandere Batfam. It's kinda funny.

"Just what exactly are you teaching him (Y/N)?" Bruce asked you, his tone accusing as he watched you clean up blood off the floor of the parlor room.

Jason sat on a small armchair, a notepad in hand as he re-reads over his notes. 

Dick strolls up beside the older Wayne, watching the scene. 

"Oh! I remember when you taught me that trick, gotta remember this little-wing!"

Richard [Dick] Grayson:

This man has been emotionally starved, having been raised by Bruce. 

Dick has been in many romantic relationships, but they mostly fall flat and him and his romantic partners become just friends. Which is fine, but he still yearns for a romantic connection.

Or honestly a positive connection that has someone caring for him instead. Yes he's a good brother and son, but Bruce and his brothers mostly depend on him as the "happy-go-luck Dick Grayson".

Not the moody and depressed part of him.

Yet he meets Yan S/O, who is pretty much his personal everything. Cheerleader, bestie, (beside Wally), cuddle buddy, ect.

In your eyes, he could do no nothing wrong. You hold no high standard as how he should be seen.

He doesn't need to be the "Nightwing of Bludhaven" nor the "sweet and handsome Grayson".

He is YOURS, and you are his.

"Hey~ Welcome back," you whisper kindly. Aiding him inside the apartment. More-so dragging him in with strength he didn't know you possess.

Dick smiles at you, his eyes tired and body woozy from working late hours. 

-

Jason Todd:

Jason never really grew up in a loving home, when he did however, it was taken away from him very early on.

So when any once of love he gets from Yan S/O, he tries to push it away. Thinking he'll loose it, somehow.

Yet if Yan S/O proves their devotion, Jason will accept their advances.

He doesn't see you as a total threat to himself, to other's though, that's a different story..

You listen to him, wanting to know every bits and fucked-up pieces of him.

You don't see him as some type of puzzle to finish, you just want to know him. To love him.

Holding his hands in your own, you place them on your forehead. Breathing out a content sigh, tracing his fingers gently. As if he was made out of porcelain and not a monster he saw himself as.

Tim Drake [Wayne]:

Tim is concerned about Yan S/O affections, finding them perfect. Too perfect.

He's afraid to love them, because Yan S/O is all he could imagine as a perfect lover for him.

Kind, attentive, uncaring of his coffee addiction.

Someone who'll listen to him need out about ANYTHING.

It could be the stupid-est thing ever, yet you'll stare him like a love stricken idiot.

Even when he talks about someone he likes, you'll still smile. With clear hurt in your eyes, yet never sabotage his dates or try to change his mind. Just listen with a open heart, hoping for the privilege to let you love him.

He honestly doesn't want to push it, knowing you'd have to have a limit.

But you never crack..

It drives him mad.

To the point where he surrenders himself to you.

There was no one who could be as "perfect" as you.

"Hey! Hey!" You squeak, feeling Tim's cold hands touch your cheeks. Squeezing them together to make a fish-face, leaning in to give you a small peck.

-

Damien Al Ghul/Wayne:

Straight up opposite of Tim.

Damien pushes your button's, wanting to see if you had the guts to kill for him.

Not believing that you were worthy enough for him.

He is a Al Ghul.

A Wayne.

Yan S/O thinks saying a heartful declaration of love will sway his heart. Not even a little.

You have to be persistent for Damiens attention, clingy but not to the point of becoming a annoyance and a bother. 

Hell, maybe even uncaring. Giving up on the chase, which pisses Damien off.

Weren't you the one that wanted to be with him!?

Yan S/O acts like loving him was a phase. Which upsets him even more, he acts like it's not bothering him.

He starts missing your presence, whether if you were happy or timid around him.

"You already stuck around this long, might as well reward your efforts." Damien scowls, opening his hand out for you to take. A big smile breaks onto your face, which makes Damien freeze.

You won.

-

[Hope you enjoyed! Everythings appreciated!]

[tisajest]

Reverse Robins AU but the adoption order stays the same

Bruce had been Batman for around 2 decades when he witnessed the Graysons fall. He takes in little 8-year-old Dick Grayson and they become Batman & Robin a couple of months later.

Jason still tried to steal the Batmobile’s tires, but this time Dick is there with Bruce. And Dick immediately goes: friend?! Because who’s cooler than an older boy who has the audacity to steal your dad’s crime-fighting tires? Bruce doesn’t immediately take him in but he does adopt him soon after nonetheless. A year later, Batman gains a new sidekick partner.

Tim still puts together the Bats’ IDs by recognizing Robin’s quadruple somersault. He keeps this info to himself but his father’s death breaks something in him and he becomes reckless and directionless. He’s saved by one of the Bats, maybe little 11 year old Robin, and he just blurts out his name. He tells him how he was at the Graysons’ last show, how he and his parents were such huge fans. Bruce shows up but it’s too late, Dick’s already attached to his new big brother.

This teenager is obviously a threat, he knows their secret identities, but Bruce can see a bit of himself in the lost young man in front of him. He’s around the same age he was when he made the choice that changed his life forever. And having two young boys in his life, two young heroes, he can’t help but want to help Tim. It doesn’t hurt that the kid’s obviously smart and in good shape. A year later, Batman gains another partner.

Damian was never sent to Bruce, he stayed with the League. Eventually, he and Talia killed Ra’s. He becomes Talia’s right-hand but he doesn’t want it. He’s so disinterested in his own life and Talia, for all her flaws, loves her son. She tells him to leave, to “find himself or whatever it is young people do” and so Damian does. He leaves Nanda Parbat at ~18 and travels.

Damian has many skills, but he feels he’s best at killing people, so it doesn’t take long for him to take up contracts. Traveling’s fun and all but he grew restless. He does this for years, he makes a name for himself outside of being an Al’Ghul. And he’s visited Gotham, of course he has, but he doesn’t long for Bruce’s approval. He isn’t a child, he isn’t good person, and he isn’t a Wayne. Bruce means nothing to him, not really he doesn’t think Bruce would ever want him.

So, he keeps an ear out for news regarding the Bats. He visits Gotham every time he learns of a new child but he never allows himself to be noticed. One day, he hears whispers of the Wayne children being in Ethiopia of all places and he can’t help but seek them out. He gets there in time to put the Joker down permanently and prevent any lasting damage to any of them. They’re all taken by this mysterious savior to varying degrees (Tim’s the most cautious), but Dick is especially enthusiastic.

They manage to distract Damian long time enough for Bruce to get there. The long await meeting occurs and Damian decides fuck it, might as well let his father know about him. Bruce has more than enough children to fuss over and he’s an adult with his own life completely separate from Bruce, no need to make a big deal out of it. It is a big deal and Bruce is in shock and infuriated and heartbroken about his very much adult son being kept from him all this time.

As much as Bruce begs, Damian doesn’t go back to Gotham with them. Regardless, he keeps up his occasional visits and stays out of sight. Surprisingly, or maybe not, Dick is the first to find him out. And Dick, amazing human bean that he is, grows on Damian with time and interactions. He’s impressed by this child his father took in and he can’t help but want to teach him a few moves. Bruce wasn’t as oblivious to these meetings as he made himself seem, but he knows Damian isn’t interested in Bruce being his father. He’s hoping he can bridge this gap between them with Dick.

It works.

[kingtry]

Of Children and Tea Parties

Author:RandomEnglishMajor Rating: General Audiences Fandom: Danny Phantom, Batman Relationships: None Series: Part 2 of The Phantom of Gotham Language: English Stats: 5 Chapters (Completed)

Summary:

Alfred Pennyworth is grateful that the Wayne family wasn't murdered. He is very willing to work with Bruce to lure their savior into a warm and safe home. But does the silent child want to come?

Autor:RandomEnglishMajor Clasificación: Audiencias generales Fandom: Danny Phantom, Batman Relaciones: Ninguna Series: Parte 2 de The Phantom of Gotham Idioma: Inglés Estado: 5 Capítulos (Terminada)

Resumen:

Alfred Pennyworth agradece que la familia Wayne no haya sido asesinada. Está muy dispuesto a trabajar con Bruce para atraer a su salvador a un hogar cálido y seguro. Pero, ¿querrá venir el niño silencioso?

Divisores de  cafekitsune

[renren-006]

No More Secrets | Bruce Wayne x fem reader

plot: The reader already knows he's Batman, but maybe Bruce already knows that you know?

word count: 749

a/n: hey! I know a ton of you enjoyed my other Bruce story but here is a second one to add to the list! hope you enjoy it!

taglist: @rosecentury

You knew Bruce was Batman before he ever told you. After he had almost thrown himself off a building to save your life, you knew. You watched him fake smiles at events, and when he sweet talked the people in Wayne tower, you could see the man in the mask. At every event you saw him itching to get back out to the streets, you felt it when he would excuse the two of you early from parties just to drop you off at your apartment with a kiss and leave into the night. It angered you, how he never told you, so much so that you blew up at him after one of his parties. 

It was another social gathering put on by some wealthy business owner in Gotham, someone you knew you would have to write about for the paper the next morning so you tried to get a few words out of him. You could feel Bruce's impatience as it got closer and closer to 9 o’clock.  When it was at the hour he came up to you, as you were talking to a few of his business partners about their lives and stories.

“I'm so sorry but It's getting late and my lovely girlfriend here has to be up early for work tomorrow” he said, kissing your head as he whisked you away from the businessman. Burice wasn't a jealous type, and you knew that because he would defend you with his mask if anyone ever tried anything. As you were walking away from the party you could feel the slight tugs from him to keep you moving and once you were in the car, not a word left your mouth. 20 minutes later you were on the other side of town way faster than the law allowed and you stepped out of the car with a slam of the door. 

“What's wrong?” Bruce asked over the hood of the car. 

“Nothing. Goodnight Bruce”

“You've been short with me all night, something must be wrong?” He said walking towards you on the street. A light drizzle had started to fall from the sky, dotting his jacket. 

“I can't do this Bruce…” you said, looking away from him. 

“Can't do what sweetheart?” he said, pulling your face to look at him again. You raised your hand over his eyes. 

“I can't date you, and know that there's another side to you that you won't tell me about” you told him as the drizzling rain became harder. You let your hand fall down and he was looking at you with surprise. “I'm not an idiot, Bruce Wayne. You think I don't put together that the man I loved was Batman, savior of Gotham?”

“I did, I just…I didn't think it would be this hard to tell you”

“Why would it be hard to tell me, if you knew I had already figured it out?” You asked. 

“Because what if you left? Or what if I told you the truth for certainty and you would be in more danger because of it?”

“Bruce! You can't protect me from everything” you told him, annoyed his answer was always putting your life above his or the relationship you both had together. 

“I have to”

“No. All you have to do is make sure I can protect myself when your not there”

“What?”

“Just…Bruce just train me to know how to defend myself so if something happens like the roof again, i'll be able to at least fight till you get there”

“I can do that sweetheart” he told you. “Why don't I stay with you tonight?”

“And give up prowling the city”

“For you? Always. I should put you first before the city, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be out in this weather anyways” Bruce said with a chuckle. Knowing that these storms that blow through Gotham never let up till the next day.

“It's alright. Tell me the truth next time when you want to leave”“What if the reason I want to leave has nothing to do with defending the city?” “Then I guess the city can't wait for the night. Right Batman?” You asked as you swished your hips into your apartment building. Bruce smiled, locking the car and heading up to your apartment. Whether you watched a movie and paid attention was anyone's guess, but the rain didn't let up for the entire night. You trapped the Batman in your apartment and blamed it on the weather.

[battinscnz]

𝑩𝑬𝑵𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑯 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑰𝑳𝑳𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑨𝑰𝑹𝑬 // 𝑺𝑼𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑩𝑨𝑻 𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑹𝒀

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: Bruce Wayne (The Batman) , Clark Kent (Superman)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent, SuperBat

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,726 (Ongoing)

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Bruce Wayne (The Batman) , Clark Kent (Superman), SuperBat, Bruce/Clark, Pattinson!Batman, Corenswet!Superman

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Violence/Crime Mentions, Grief/Parental Loss, Emotional Tension/Angst, Eventual Smut

Clark Kent is sent to Gotham to write an in-depth profile on Bruce Wayne, but what begins as a professional assignment quickly evolves into something far more personal. Over shared moments at Wayne Manor, the two men navigate simmering tension, unspoken desires, and their own guarded vulnerabilities, creating a connection that neither fully understands.

𝑩𝑬𝑵𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑯 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑰𝑳𝑳𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑨𝑰𝑹𝑬 // 𝑺𝑼𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑩𝑨𝑻 𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑹𝒀

The office was alive with the faint hum of keyboards clicking and voices murmuring over phones. 

Clark Kent sat at his desk, glasses slipping slightly down the bridge of his nose as he stared at the blinking cursor on his screen. Around him, the bustling chaos of the Daily Planet's newsroom carried on, but Clark had managed to zone it all out. 

He was too busy pouring his thoughts into his latest piece—a scathing critique of Gotham’s elusive billionaire, Bruce Wayne.

“…yet another gala, yet another night where Bruce Wayne hides behind the veneer of wealth and philanthropy,” he muttered under his breath as he typed. 

His fingers moved decisively, every keystroke driven by a quiet frustration that had been building for years.

Clark leaned back in his chair for a moment, rereading the opening paragraph. It wasn’t just the lack of visible effort from Bruce Wayne that irritated him—it was the pattern. 

The man was a ghost. 

He was always in the background, sipping champagne in dark corners at high-profile events, smiling that practiced, hollow smile for the cameras. But did he ever truly engage with the issues Gotham faced? Did he know what it was like to step out of his pristine skyscraper and walk through the alleys of his own city, the ones drowning in crime and despair? Clark doubted it.

He glanced over at the framed photo on his desk: a shot of his parents, Jonathan and Martha Kent, standing in front of the farmhouse in Smallville. They’d raised him to believe in hard work, humility, and showing up for people. 

Bruce Wayne’s entire existence seemed to mock those values. A billionaire born into unimaginable privilege, skating by on inherited wealth and an untouchable reputation. Clark couldn’t understand how someone with so much could do so little—or at least, appear to.

- Clark, - Lois’s voice cut through his thoughts, sharp and teasing as ever. She leaned against the edge of his desk, holding a cup of coffee. - You look like you’re plotting a takedown. Should I be worried?

He smirked faintly, shaking his head. - Just... putting some thoughts together.

- About? - She leaned over, trying to sneak a glance at his screen. - ‘The Myth of the Billionaire Savior’? Oh boy, this is going to ruffle some feathers.

[hollandorks]

haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

chapter twelve

Summary: After the sudden deaths of your mother and grandmother, you’re forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke your heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, you vow to get to the bottom of your former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what you’re expecting. a

a/n: I enjoy this chapter so much, that is all. I also enjoy the chapter I just wrote but you don't get that yet (hehe). This chapter is a little on the shorter side but that's because the next bit is a Bruce POV interlude! Thanks as usual for the comments etc, I love feedback and I love making y'all lose your minds with cliffhangers!

Series Masterlist

word count: 2k

She screamed as hands grabbed her and yanked her off of the motorcycle. 

A primal need to survive rose within y/n as hands dragged her into the smoke. She thrashed wildly, twisting every which way to try and escape the iron grip that held her. Her hands turned into claws and she swiped at whatever she could find. Her nails met flesh and she abruptly hit the asphalt as a man yelled. 

Go, go, go, she shouted to herself, her breath coming in panicked pants. “Help!” she called, but she didn’t have enough air to shout. She was almost to the motorcycle, hands reaching for the key to turn it, when she was grabbed again. 

“Bitch,” the man she had seen earlier snarled into her ear. The fourth murder suspect. Hell, he wasn’t even a suspect. She knew he had killed those two people. She had seen it. 

Pain exploded across her face as his fist connected. 

This time she did scream. 

He laughed. “All this time searching, and you’re right here on our doorstep.” 

She took a swipe at him with her nails again. He moved easily out of the way. She tried to run again but he simply caught her like a cat toying with its prey before killing it. 

Because he was going to kill her. And he was going to do it before Batman or Gordon or anyone else could save her. 

Behind her was the man who’d grabbed her, both of his hands bleeding where she had scratched him. She was between the two men, the motorcycle too far, Batman nowhere to be seen. 

She went still. She looked around wildly for an escape, any escape, but saw none. There was still gunfire from the front of the pub. She could hear sirens now, but they were too distant. They would be too late. 

She closed her eyes. 

“There’s a good girl,” her murderer said. She shivered and almost gagged at the words. “No use fighting it. You saw something you weren’t supposed to, and it’s my job to take care of it, you see. You can’t hide forever, even with your little vigilante friend.” He snorted. “Some good he did you.” 

When her eyes opened, they landed on the gun at his waist. 

She had never shot a gun before, but if she could grab it…

She turned in a slow circle, a trapped animal, wild with panic, searching for a way out under a false calm. 

When she again faced her killer, there was a soft sound behind her. He frowned. 

The smoke was clearing now. 

With another sudden gust of wind, it cleared enough for her to see the man she’d scratched , now unconscious on the ground. 

She ran towards him and the shadow that stood over him. 

The other man grabbed for her but she managed to shrug out of her jacket and get away. 

She was almost to her savior when the shot rang out. 

She gasped and stumbled to a halt. She waited for the pain, the agony, the sudden onslaught of darkness bringing her death. 

When she opened her eyes, the Batman was in front of her. 

The shot had hit him the chest. She could see the mark from it, the bullet perfectly pressed into the armor right over his heart. 

The man pointing the gun stared at them with wide eyes. 

Then he cursed and ran. 

Batman stepped after him, but more shots rang out. He shoved her against the wall and covered her with his body as he took one, two, three more bullets to the chest like it was nothing. He growled and knocked the shooter unconscious as soon as the gun clicked, empty. 

The alley lit up in red and blue as the shooter hit the ground with a thud. 

“I’ve got you,” Batman said, his voice almost hoarse. He turned and caged her in with his arms, her own personal bulletproof shield. She stared up at him, still sucking in panicked breaths. Her face was wet with tears, her vision blurry with them.

“You–” she said but it came out a sob. “They shot you. Oh my god.” Her hands fumbled over his chest in a search for blood. No way he had taken four shots and come away completely unscathed. 

“Are you hurt?” he asked. There was something dangerous in his voice. 

“Are you hurt?” she asked then hiccuped on another sob. 

He ripped off a glove and cupped her face with his bare hand.

Her entire body melted into the touch. She whimpered softly and closed her eyes. “I’m okay,” she said, because she was now. His skin was hot, almost burning where he caressed her cheek. He slipped the hand down her neck and angled her head towards the light. 

“You’re bleeding,” he said. 

“I’m okay,” she repeated. He let out a long breath. “He got away,” she said, because that seemed important. 

“But you’re alive,” Batman said. 

“Hey!” Gordon’s familiar voice shouted. 

“I have his picture,” she said. She didn’t want Batman to stop touching her face. The touch was a comfort, an anchor, a safe haven in a storm. His hands were callused but gentle. “A clear picture.” 

Batman let her go. His absence was an immediate ache in her chest. 

“What the hell happened?” Gordon demanded in an almost-shout as police swarmed the alley. “You were supposed to take her to the store or something, not to a gunfight!” 

She realized that Batman had stepped in front of her again. As if Gordon was going to shoot at her and he was ready to take the bullet. She leaned around him. The presence of Gordon calmed her further. For the moment, she was safe, and Batman was safe, and that was all that mattered. Everything else was a problem for later that she shoved into a locked box in her mind. 

As Batman explained what happened to Gordon, y/n clung to his cape like a kid with a security blanket. She wanted his hand on her skin again, wanted the anchor of his touch, but he had already put his glove back on. 

With a jolt, she quickly pulled up her recent pictures with her free hand. 

“Here,” she said, holding it out between the two men, interrupting whatever argument they were having. “I got a picture of him. It’s him. I know it’s him. He admitted it to me and everything.” 

Gordon took the camera. “I need to–” 

“Keep it, yeah, I know. Just don’t delete anything.” She waved a hand and almost tipped over. Now that the adrenaline was fading, she thought she might pass out. 

Gordon cursed and paced in a small circle. When he paused, he crossed his arms, then used one hand to point at her. “I’m putting a police detail on your house. And I’m taking you home and speaking with Bruce Wayne and Alfred Pennyworth both.”

She nodded, but she wasn’t really listening. Batman was watching her, a hand on her elbow, steadying her, his mouth turned down with concern. 

She met his eyes. 

He looked away, as usual. 

“Stay right here,” Gordon said. “I’ll send someone over to get a statement, then I’m taking you straight home.” 

“But won’t they know who I am as soon as they see the police there every day?” she asked. Her brain was finally starting to catch up with things. 

“It’s only a matter of time before they figure it out,” Gordon said, his voice gentling. “I’d rather err on the side of caution. Now stay put, both of you.” 

Gordon strode away, taking command of the scene, having her camera bagged as evidence as he went. 

She didn’t move from Batman’s side. She didn’t want to. Men were being led away in cuffs or on stretchers and she let the movements hold her gaze until she landed on a familiar officer. 

Martinez saw her at the same time and jogged over. “Hey, you okay?” he said, not even bothering to acknowledge the hulking figure that had once again moved to block her view. She thumped a fist into Batman’s armored back to try to get him to move. What, did he think Martinez was a threat? 

“Fit as a fiddle,” she said. She moved to the side so she could see Martinez. “Except for whatever adrenaline and fear do to your brain.” She went to brush hair out of her face and touched the spot where the man had hit her. She winced. “Okay, and the tiny bump on the head.”  

“God, what happened? I heard Gordon’s call come over and we got like, a million calls reporting gunshots and–” He reached out a hand, probably to make sure y/n really was okay, only to be blocked again by Batman. He looked up at him. “Good thing you were here, man.” 

“Good thing,” Batman said in his low growl. She heard the threat in it even if Martinez didn’t. Her brows drew together. Martinez was about as menacing as a puppy. 

“I gotta go,” Martinez said as someone called his name. “Text me later!” 

He jogged away. 

“Friend of yours?” Batman asked wryly. He glanced down at her and away. 

“You always look away from me,” she said instead of answering the question. “It’s like you’re scared to look at me or something. Am I that hideous?” She meant it as a joke but it came out weird, strangled. 

She saw him swallow even as he still refused to look at her. “Because I’m scared to get too close.” His voice was a low rasp. There it was again–that hint of familiarity, like a dream fading upon waking.

“Why?” 

“Because you–terrify me.” 

The words sent a crackle of electricity through her. She opened her mouth to ask why again, but Gordon was back. 

“Let’s go, kid.” He grabbed her by the elbow but she dug in her heels. 

“Wait,” she said, but she didn’t know what for. She pulled her arm away. She went to turn back to Batman, to make him answer her questions, to get him to say why she terrified him. 

But he was gone. 

–

Wayne Tower’s lobby was ablaze with light. The whole security team was there, in a standoff with several GCPD officers. Gordon spoke briefly with Blake and a uniformed officer before escorting her upstairs with Martinez. 

She couldn’t stop thinking of Batman’s words. Because you terrify me. Her? Terrify him? But why? How? She remembered the warmth of his hand on her face, so gentle despite the violence he had just displayed towards their attackers. 

She wondered, albeit briefly, if her mind was focusing on that instead of what had happened to her, like some form of shock. 

As the elevator opened, all thoughts of Batman fled. 

Because standing there, looking rumpled like he’d rolled out of bed, was Bruce Wayne. 

He was lurking behind Alfred, eyes half closed in the bright foyer lights, his clothes baggy and ratty like he was homeless rather than a billionaire. 

He had never looked better, or more far away. 

Seeing him there–even knowing that it was Gordon that had requested he be there and not a concern for her safety–loosened something within her. 

Alfred rushed towards her and gathered her in a hug. “I’m so glad you’re alright, dear girl,” he said into her hair. “Gordon called and explained.” Her eyes met Bruce’s over Alfred’s shoulder. She expected him to walk away like he so often did whenever they were in the same room lately. 

Instead, he held her gaze steadily. She felt like he was trying to tell her something, but she didn’t know what. 

The thought brought tears to her eyes as the night’s events caught up with her. Bruce was so far away from her and the distance had never been more apparent. She used to be able to read him with a single glance and vice versa. Now his gaze was a wall of blue ice, as distant from her as the Antarctic. 

“I’m okay,” she said, but she wasn’t sure she was.

Next Chapter

taglist:

@ktficworld @grunge-n-roses5 @anon-cat-posts @projectdreamwalker @warsaur @lachillona02 @crazyunsexycool @doetic @alexiris @that-girl-named-alex @harry-bowie-mercury @vaniasagitaa @widows-writings @missing-loki @exactlyelegantwizard @miriamnox @mavenmoon @eclipsedplanet

[frownyalfred]

Was Bruce Wayne “always a bit of an insomniac” or was he simply predestined to be attuned to Gotham’s night cycle? Relieved at its sunsets. Energized by the blanket of darkness over his city, from a young age. Feeling the tug of ache in his heart when the sun rises, knowing his time to return home is swiftly approaching.

[yall-batman-fanfic]

Day Off & Double Dates | Batman/Bruce Wayne x Magician!Reader ft. Super-family and Batfamily

Synopsis: Lois Lane gets a day off and decides to spend it with someone who can relate to her predicament of being the wife of a superhero. Wanting to escape Gotham's gloom and the hovering of her family, Vivian takes the invite, and their day off turns out to be an interesting one especially when Clark and Bruce join in later.

Note: Reference to the Spotify series Batman: Unburied and The Riddler: Secrets in the Dark. I absolutely love Hasan Minhaj’s portrayal of the Riddler in that series.

There was chaos in the kitchen. While Vivian normally enjoyed such normalcy in their home and seeing the children act their age and not be soldiers in the never-ending war in Gotham, today was just not that day. 

A week booked from morning till evening, nights that had organized crime doing their work, then there was the incident where Lazlo Valentin or Professor Pyg kidnapped her to transform her to one of his Dollotrons, and then after that incident Damian and Jason won’t stop hovering – she can’t even go to the public restroom without them insisting to check if the stalker was there – she had to bind them outside with her magic just so she could piss. She just wanted some peace and quiet.

Luckily, her savior called all the way from Metropolis.

"Hi, Lois," Vivian sighed.

"Busy day?" Lois asked.

"No, quite the opposite. It's the first time in a while where they get to be their age. Damian's going to school, Cass too, so is Duke, Tim's got something, and Jason and Dick are... who knows." She glanced at the busy kitchen where everyone was running around eating breakfast, looking for their things for school and work, Damian fixing his tie while telling off Tim on something, Bruce sipping his coffee, and Alfred preparing their lunches. And for her a glass of scotch. Bruce saw him give Vivian the glass and raised a brow at her. She only raised the glass at him and took a sip.

"You and Bruce?"

"He's got work. Me... I really don't want to go to campus today. A lot just happened with a serial killer kidnapping me for his experiments-"

"Let me stop you right there because I got just the thing for you. That is if you're willing to drive to Metropolis so we can have a day off."

"You got a day off? That's surprising,” Vivian snuck the laptop from her bag. She made sure to keep the cover facing the family while she scrolled through the browser.

"Speak for yourself,” Lois scoffed. “Ten kids under your roof, and then you’re teaching like a hundred kids a day. You never get a day off.”

“Correction, we only got six kids under our roof. Two of which are full grown adults who should be in their respective apartments but are here – again, I love all of them.” Vivian chuckled. "What do you have planned?"

"How about some yoga at the park, we go shopping using your black credit card - kidding, of course - dinner. A nice girl's day out. What do you say?"

"I'm already checking the next ferry ride there and booking a space for the car. Meet you there in an hour or two."

"Great! Make sure to sneak out so they don't follow you.”

"Too late, they saw me booking the ticket," Vivian sighed loudly as Damian and Jason were on her shoulder asking a million questions. "I'll make this quick."

"This is good, Viv! It helps with their separation anxiety. " Lois joked as she heard Jason and Damian go: "You're going to Metropolis? WHY?!" And "Ma, are you serious right now? You were just kidnapped this week and you're going on a trip?"

Facing the two, she said to them, "Yes, Jason, I am. Why? Because I was kidnapped, strapped to a surgical bed with a man wearing a pig-mask about to carve my face open with an unsanitized butcher’s knife. I need a break," When Bruce came to her side and removed Damian from her back, Vivian said to him, "Lois invited me to spend the day with her."

"Will Clark be there?" Bruce asked.

"She said it's a girls day out. So I doubt it."

"BUT!" Lois called out, prompting Vivian to put her on speaker mode. "Maybe by dinner we could have a couples date. Just for fun."

"I'll head over by then," said Bruce. "Dick can hold the fort."

"Trust, finally! I'm touched," Dick teased him. "Don't worry, Viv, we got it covered."

"Can I come?" Damian asked.

"Sorry, this is an adults only dinner. Even Jon's staying with Conner tonight," said Lois.

"Ha, too bad," Jason had a triumphant look.

"Jason, that includes you," Vivian told him.

He huffed.

"See ya, Lois!" Vivian ended the call and turned to her family, who were now quiet as she addressed them. "I love you, all of you, but please no calls to the principal or the head master's office today. Damian, promise?"

"Why is it only me?" Damian pouted. "But fine."

Glad with his answer, Vivian patted his head but she turned to the next child: "Tim?" 

"What did I do now?!" Tim said. When Vivian only looked at him he sighed and promised.

Vivian turned to Cassandra and Duke.

"Promise, Mom." Cassandra crossed her heart. “Dance practice later.”

Vivian turned to Dick and Jason, expecting one of them to pick up Cass from her practice. It was Jason who took the responsibility and promised to be there on time.

When it was Duke’s turn, he said, "You got it Professor." 

She then turned to Dick and Jason again.

"I'm not even in school!" Said Dick, grinning. "But yeah, I’ll make sure to stay away from hospitals."

Vivian turned to Jason and messed with his hair, "I'll be fine. Nothing to worry about."

Jason sighed and nodded.

"Good."

"But I'll keep watch just in case."

"No."

"Fine..." 

"Mama's boy," Tim whispered to Cass and Luke.

"Yeah, and so what? At least I'm the favorite!" Jason exclaimed. 

"Says who?!" Damian questioned him. "Is that true, Mom? He is your favorite?"

"I don't have any favorites!" Vivian sighed and turned to Bruce. "I'm going out."

"I'll hold them off," Bruce snuck a kiss before she could leave. "Have fun."

"I will!"

Just as Damian was about to run after her, Bruce caught him and said to him, "you know that she doesn't have favorites. She loves all of you equally."

"Then how come Todd's getting all the attention?"

"Because he hoggs her," said Dick. "He tends to do that."

"Stop hogging Mom, Todd!"

"Please, you get to see her everyday!" Jason exclaimed.

As the argument continues, Bruce sighs and envies the sound of Alfred saying goodbye to Vivian as she exits the house and takes her car. He just has to wait until later for their date with Lois and Clark. For now, he’s got a house full of children – literal children and adult-children – making chaos once more. Maybe he should consider making another kitchen on the other side of the manor just for him and Vivian?

~*~

Driving across Metropolis is both relaxing and a hassle. There was traffic, which annoys Vivian since she had a mood to step on the gas a little more than usual, but at least it had something exploding on the pavement or someone running because they robbed a store or a truck crushing the cars on the road. Ah, Gotham, you never fail to make anyone paranoid wherever they go.

Arriving at the Kent-Lane house, Vivian first saw Clark as the man was just about to head inside with some doughnuts.

"I thought I heard a customized car engine driving impatiently in Metropolis," Clark greeted with a grin.

"Hello to you too, Clark. And hello, Jon!" Vivian lets the boy hug her but not too tight to crush her. Yeah, his super strength was coming. He was just a couple of years younger than Damian but Jon was taller than her boy. It always delighted her to see Jon and Damian’s friendship, it reminds her of Bruce and Clark’s friendship to some degree, and she finds Jon’s influence to be good for Damian. Though Damian tends to call off Jon by telling him to “Wonder Woman up, Kent!” whenever they come to Jon’s sports events.

"Professor Pryor, it's good to see you again!" Jon said.

"You too bud, how's school?" She turned the boy’s baseball hat backwards so she could see his cute little face.

"Nope! Nuh uh," Lois came and started to push her towards the car. "You are not going to spend the day helping another student with their homework. We are going to have a day off that we deserve! We'll meet you and Bruce for dinner, Honey!"

"What about yoga?" Clark asked.

"I thought it was just us for yoga?" Vivian raised a brow.

"He wanted to have yoga with me. But, yeah, see you there. Viv and I are just gonna drive around first."

"See you there!"

"Love you both!"

In the car, Vivian and Lois buckled up and then sighed before Lois said, "drive" and she drove out of the parking space. 

"So, tell me all about what happened to you this week," Lois said.

"We'd be in yoga and I'll still be talking."

"Okay. What about the psycho kidnapper?"

Vivian let out a loud groan and began, "His name is  Lazlo Valentin or Professor Pyg and he's a twisted surgeon obsessed with the myth of Pygmalion and the idea of physical perfection. He’s one of those really dark criminals in Gotham, like really dark. Even I get goosebumps just thinking about it. He wears a pig mask on his face and goes about making people perfect by transforming them to his Dollotrons. He’s been running around Gotham for a while, hard to find, and I became his target one time. He said that he saw my photo on the streets and he wanted to make me perfect.”

“Yikes.”

"Anyway, Bruce and the boys came before I could use my magic, and beat the shit out of him. Bruce enjoyed that."

"And the boys?"

"Damian and Jason went overboard. Cass was a sweetheart and took me out of there. It was fun. Really. Fun. What about you?”

Lois shrugged. “I just got a day off after years of working and working. Not as interesting as your reason for one.”

“Trust me, Lois, you deserve this day-off.”

“Both of us.”

~*~

After parking her car in Wayne Tower in Metropolis – she asked Bruce if she could use it for the day and he said, “I don’t even know why I’m even getting this call when you know my answer would be ‘yes’, Viv.” – she and Lois proceeded on foot wanting to enjoy Metropolis and not get a bad start by a parking ticket or a finding a parking space anywhere. This was a city after all, and parking would be war itself. 

Their first destination for their day off was yoga which was being held in Centennial Park. Vivian was a little conscious to walk around wearing her yoga clothes that she wore one of Tim’s shirts that he left in the car, and used Jason’s jacket to wrap around her waist to cover her leggings. But as soon as they arrived at the venue and they were met by Lois’ friends, Vivian took off the jacket, getting more comfortable that it wasn’t just them in the attire.

“Lois!” Jimmy Olsen called out. With him was Siobhan Smythe – also known as Silverbanshee. 

“You made it! I was worried this would be too early for you,” said Lois.

“No way, we’re morning people!” Jimmy kissed Siobhan’s cheek. Making the woman blush.

“Is that?” Jimmy’s eyes narrowed a bit to get a clearer look. “You brought… holy shit – Vivian Pryor?”

Right. They didn’t know that Vivian and Lois were good friends considering they never really hung out much.

“Yeah, Vivian and I kept in contact after our interview years ago,” Lois shrugged. “You can say we’re good friends.”

“It’s nice to meet you both,” Vivian held out her hand to them in greeting. “Jimmy Olsen and Siobhan Smythe, right?”

“Yeah, yes! I can’t believe that we are going to have yoga with Vivian Pryor – you’re practically Gotham royalty now.”

Vivian laughed awkwardly. “A little over the top.”

“Please, Bruce Wayne has been bringing the title of Prince of Gotham since he was a baby,” Lois scoffed. “But yeah, Vivian had a long week and I thought why not I invite her over to have a day off?”

“Oh, I heard that you were kidnapped by some serial killer – it was on the news,” said Siobhan.

“More reason why I needed this. I just wanna get out of the city for a while.”

“Trade one city for another,” Lois jokes.

“Trust me, Metropolis is a vacation itself. Actually, getting on that ferry is already a vacation. You don’t get costumed criminals running around you… unless they boarded the ferry and placed a bomb – oh, look at that, Gotham paranoia is following me everywhere. And please, off the record.”

Lois laughed. “Don’t worry, we’re all off for the day now… shall we, ladies?” 

Yoga was nice. It was the first time Vivian got to enjoy yoga in the park and not in a studio or at home. In the studio she never got this calm environment with the outdoor breeze, the smell of grass and soil, and the chirping birds; and at home, Bruce usually interrupts her session by locking the door of the room and distracting her with kisses or touches that would lead to another type of exercise. Not that she was complaining about that.

But this was nice. 

A moment of silence.

Just her and the sound of the wind that resonated with her magic –

“Honey! Am I late?!”

And Clark was there.

Opening her eyes, Vivian stifled a laugh when she saw the huge Clark Kent with his glasses and sweat band, a red Smallville jumper and shorts. Whenever Lois would say Clark was a dork but her dork, she always found it hard to believe – even when he shows his dorkiness – but now, now she believes it. 

“What. Are. You. Wearing?” Lois said to him.

“You said it was for yoga?” Clark shrugged.

God, she was lucky Bruce doesn’t do yoga. But if he does, she mostly imagines him wearing the same thing he does when he works out: most of the time topless and a pair of workout shorts. And she never breaks his concentration whenever he does his gym work – which was pretty unfair in her opinion. 

Okay, she does sometimes, not always.

“Hi Clark!” Vivian waved at him with a small grin. “Nice shirt.”

“Thanks,” Clark smiled, then he turned to Lois. “What?”

“Nothing, let’s just enjoy the day,” Lois sighed and went back to her mat. She turned to Vivian and quickly typed on her phone.

Upon seeing Lois’ speed typing, Vivian got her phone out to read: please tell me Bruce has something the same outfit so I’m not the only one with the dork at yoga.

Vivian bit her lip to hide her laugh and replied: Our yoga sessions are not really yoga. So, we’ll be charged with public indecency if he comes over.

Send.

Lois barked a laugh, which made Jimmy, Siobhan, and Clark look at them in confusion, but both women knew that Superman already knew what they were messaging about.

Lois typed back quickly and sent a reply: Breaking News: Gotham’s Billionaire-Philanthropist Couple Spotted Expanding the Family in Centennial Park!

Vivian burst out laughing which had Lois laughing too. While Jimmy and Siobhan were even more confused, Clark sighed and just watched the two women. 

The rest of the yoga session went well, surprisingly, and by the end of it, Vivian and Lois said goodbye to Jimmy and Siobhan as they had their own plans, and to Clark. But before they went to their destination, which was Wayne Enterprise which had a gym in the building and a shower, Clark said to them, “Don’t think I didn’t see the texts.”

Vivian and Lois shared an amused look at one another.

“Don’t worry, Bruce is coming over later and you can show off your masculinity later, honey,” Lois teased him.

With that they were off. After a quick shower in Wayne Tower’s gym facilities, and a hello to the director running the place, the two women went on with their day. Going to the shopping district, getting lunch, sightseeing for Vivian, and all the while not getting one call or text from their children because they got in trouble. Vivian was surprised when she realized none of her kids were actually messaging her an SOS that day that she wanted to check on them but Lois took her phone from her.

“THEY’RE FINE, VIV!” Lois held her phone hostage. “I swear, it’s you who's got freaking separation anxiety.”

~*~

Meanwhile in Gotham. Things weren’t exactly going so well…

Damian was called to the Headmaster’s office because he said something to his teacher that was both witty and rude. But it was Bruce who was called to the meeting as Dick noted his teachers to call Bruce today if anything wrong happens. 

Tim had trouble on the way to class as a certain villain caught Red Robin’s eye. He was late.

Dick and Jason almost forgot about Cass’ dance lessons and actually forgot who was going to pick her up and ended up at her school at the same time. Cass had to remind them it was Jason.

Duke and Cass were probably the only ones who fulfilled their promise of a peaceful day.

~*~

When dinner came, Vivian and Lois met Clark at the bottom of Wayne Tower where Bruce mentioned he will be dropping off via the plane. Clark mentioned he offered to give him a lift, as usual, but Bruce gave a flat out “no” before he could finish the sentence. Waiting at Wayne Tower’s lobby was relaxing and taxing for Vivian. Relaxing since it has comfortable seats and free coffee, tiring since whenever one of the members of the board or anyone sitting at the very top of the Tower passes her, they would engage in some sort of conversation that felt like they were sucking up. 

Vivian had to keep up the practiced smile and – as Lois calls it – the demure-billionaire’s wife facade the entire time. Not the professor who hates how corporate Gotham University is becoming. 

After Vivian said goodbye to the batch of board members that came to say hi, Vivian got out her phone and called Bruce. Two rings and he immediately answered. “Where are you? My face is killing me from all the smiling,” Vivian said as she smiled and waved at another person who waved in her direction. 

Hell, she didn’t even know that person. The only person she knew there was Mr. Pickles – who was the Manager of this building – and Mr. Porter who was the nice maintenance guy who would always greet her with his wife’s homemade biscuits whenever she came over (today he didn’t have one since her visit was a surprise and he told her, “Professor, you should have told me you were coming!” Mr. Porter said, “Sorry, this was just a surprise trip, but I got you a hot coco since your doctor said no more coffee,” she handed him the warm cup). 

The reason why Mr. Porter would always give her biscuits is because of one incident, when Bruce brought her over to Metropolis to visit Wayne Tower before their date, she heard some women in the restroom whispering how Bruce Wayne was way out of her league. At that time, they had only been dating for a month and the comments got to her. After the two women left, Vivian got out of the cubicle she was in and Mr. Porter – who was about to replace the toilet papers – saw her trying to dry her tears. He invited her to the little room where he had his things and offered her a cookie. Bruce found her – after a while of looking – and was surprised when Vivian was laughing with the older man while sharing cookies and a hot beverage. Since then Mr. Porter would always give her cookies whenever she came, and Vivian would always have him and his family in her gift list.

But back at Wayne Tower’s lobby, Vivian jumped at the sudden hand on her waist and the sound of Bruce’s voice by her ear, “Right here.”

“When did you get here?” Vivian ended the call.

“A couple of minutes ago. I was caught up by Loraine from the Science Department. How’s your day?” He leaned down to kiss her cheek.

“Great, relaxing. Please tell me Gotham is still in one piece and the kids are not in the hospital.”

“The kids are fine, and Gotham is still Gotham. They’ll be taking over tonight’s shift. Tonight, Dick’s calling the shots.”

“Good.”

Coming to join them, Lois and Clark greeted Bruce with a little formality. Afterall, Daily Planet is part of Wayne Enterprises’ companies after the acquisition. But once they were out of earshot, they let out a breath of relief and were able to converse properly. 

Leave it to Bruce to get reservations in one of the fancy restaurants in the area and booked a private table for them. They literally have to ring the bell if they need anything.

“We heard what happened to Viv this week, is everything okay?” Clark asked as they ate their meal.

“Nothing we couldn’t handle,” Bruce answered.

“Why didn’t you just,” Lois used a gesture that was supposed to be Vivian’s magical abilities. “The guy?”

“He drugged me. I couldn’t really do much after that – Cass had to carry me on her shoulder. Imagine, my seventeen-year-old daughter carrying me like a sack of flour,” Vivian answered.

“And the boys?”

“On a murderous rampage. Don’t worry, Damian and Jason didn’t kill him. Dick, Tim, and Duke were somewhere at that time. Handling the other Dollotrons.”

“Ah. And what happened to the guy?”

“He’s in Arkham Asylum,” Bruce answered. 

“You know, I already hated the whole Pygmalion and Galatea myth with its toxic gender role themes – despite others trying to show its romance – Pyg Valentin just made me hate the story even more,” Vivian added. “Like way, way more. I am never going to not think of Pyg Valentin whenever we tackle that in a story in Feminism Lectures.”

“How is he related to Pygmalion and Galatea, exactly?” Clark asked.

“That’s his obsession and inspiration – the idea of perfect beauty.”

“I gotta ask, you basically fight like a hundred criminals a night,” Lois said to Bruce. “You gotta have a favorite one, right?”

As soon as Bruce said, “No,” Vivian answered: “The Riddler.”

“What?” Bruce turned to her.

Vivian winced in guilt. “It’s mostly because he helped us that time to look for you when you disappeared and Ivy was holding you hostage to get some biochemical weapon from Wayne Tower’s vault. It was Oracle’s idea, just so you know, and Tim agreed to it, and so did Dick. Because she really had you hidden really well. And I don’t know. After that incident, the Riddler doesn’t seem so bad? Still a complete asshole –”

“And a criminal.”

“But after that incident – and the times he actually helped you on the field –”

“For his own advantage.”

“He’s not as bad as the others in my personal opinion.”

Bruce sighed. 

“And his Riddles are starting to be really good. I liked the one on the ‘colonizers’ – that was really good,” Vivian chuckled.

(this is a reference to the Spotify series Batman: Unburied and The Riddler: Secrets in the Dark, go check it out. It’s really cool.)

Bruce sighed at that. 

“What about you two? Anything interesting?” Vivian asked Clark and Lois.

The couple turned to each other and shrugged with different answers, such as Jon’s powers expanding, then there’s Superman flying down to greet the people at the stadium, another winning article for Lois, and Clark’s article on some ant research project. 

After their dinner, the two couples decided to go to the pier where a carnival was at the time. 

“Remember the time we rode the ferry’s wheel at the pier?” Lois asked as they came closer to the beach party. “And Clark and I saw your cart moving around despite there being no wind nor were we moving at that time?”

“It was the night Bruce told us that they were both getting married,” said Clark, focusing on the celebration rather than the awkward memory of hearing the creaking card above them at that time.

Entering the fair, they played games – Bruce and Clark winning their wives a Batman and Superman plush from the stand, respectively – and Vivian and Lois winning the archery games.

When Vivian got a bull’s eye, Bruce saw Clark’s surprised look, “Adam taught her all there is to shoot – pistols, rifles, shotguns, and archery.”

“I see,” he said as he saw Vivian make another shot and missed the center by a few inches. Still her form was solid and the way she pulled the string showed someone who has done it before. She wasn’t as good as Green Arrow but it wasn’t what he expected from her at all.

“His words were, he didn’t want his little girl to be easily swayed by a guy brandishing a BB Gun. It paid off.”

“Yeah, what got her is a man juggling knives while wearing a bat costume at night,” Clark teased.

Bruce frowned at him for that, but that frown fell when Vivian gave him the price she won. After winning almost all of the games and getting prizes which Vivian gave to some kids she saw sneaking into the fair and trying to steal some coins, along with extra tickets (but she kept the Batman plush), they decided to go on some rides.

Roller coasters were out of the question since they already have something better than roller coasters with Superman’s flight and Batman’s grappling guns to swing around Gotham, and in Vivian’s case. And Lois and Clark said no to a ferry’s wheel considering the last time they rode one in separate cars, so they opted for the cheesiest ride of all.

The Tunnel of Love.

“I can forgive you for the cheesy prizes and the whole carnival date but not this,” Vivian teased Lois and Clark. “This is just,” she sighed as she entered the ride with Bruce’s help.

“Just enjoy the ride, Vivian!” Lois called out to her as their boat went ahead. 

Sitting on the small boat, Vivian leaned back on Bruce’s arm that was over the backrest and turned to him, “I prefer the gargoyle.”

Bruce chuckled. “It’s their city. This is their version of romance.”

Their boat started to move.

“Man, I miss Gotham. I wonder how things are there… maybe I should check on the kids to see if they’re alright.”

Bruce took her phone and hid it in his pocket. “Just enjoy the ride, Viv. Even when a gargoyle is far better than whatever that is,” he cringed at the sight of the badly painted animatronic that represented Cherub Cupid and –

“That's a little creepy,” Vivian pointed to the animatronic that resembled glass dolls. Dolls, it brought a chill down her spine as she looked at those dolls. “I thought this was a Tunnel of Love?”

“I guess it's supposed to scare couples so they'd cuddle closely… are you okay?” Bruce looked at her as she looked at the dolls in horror. 

The dolls, he realized.

He should have known that the ride would have those kinds of dolls. And Vivian was so close to having become one of Pyg Valentin's Dollotrons just recently. Bruce gently caressed her cheek and led her by the cheek to look at her. “I am so sorry, my love.”

“It's okay. We didn't know.”

“I should have known, though.”

“You can't always know everything, Bruce,” Vivian held the hand that caressed her cheek. “I guess I'll just look at you until the ride ends. It might take a while because I saw how big this is.”

“I don't mind,” Bruce leaned down and kissed her. Then to her surprise, he took her from the seat and placed her on his lap. 

“Bruce,” she whispered in warning. 

“Don't mind the ride, you can ride on something else,” Bruce smirked.

Vivian stifled a laugh and looked around. The boats had a good distance from one another to give couples privacy and feel the moment. Copying his smirk, Vivian tucked back a stray red hair behind her ear and leaned down a kiss but before Bruce could take her lips, she said to him in the most seductive voice that he loved.

“Not too loud, Mr. Wayne.”

“I'll try,” he finally kissed her and pulled her body close to him, and purposely had her grind on his lap. Unbuttoning the first two buttons of her dress, he was able to kiss a part of her breast and hide the groan as Vivian moved her hips on his growing erection. “Fuck, Vivian,” he held her by her ass and squeezed them as he helped her move. “Just look at me, Viv.”

Vivian opened her eyes and looked at him through her lashes. “We need to be fast,” she hastily unfastened his belt.

Bruce chuckled and helped her out and moved her underwear to the side and –

“Fuck,” he groaned at the feeling of her around him. Married for more than ten years, he could say he's memorized what would make her come easily and it would always feel so good whenever he was inside her. “God, just like that, love,” he helped her move her hips, hitting the right spots to get her to finish as fast as they could before the ride ended.

Vivian had to bite her hand as she moved her hips on Bruce and held back the moans. This was the most risky thing they have ever done. More risky than the time they did it in the changing room. Bruce bought all the dresses she tried on that day. Or the time she gave him head while they were driving from a trip, Bruce used his convertible then. Or the many times they had sex on the tower's roof by their favorite gargoyle with the risk of GCPD's helicopters roaming in the skies or any costumed criminal with the means of flight – like Kiteman.

Normally, Bruce wouldn't do something so risky, but with Vivian all logic is thrown out of the window. All that matters was her and for him to see her, feel her, hear her, and taste her. It was hard for him to keep a look out while she rode him there and him trying to stop their moans from getting loud. But Bruce managed to get through the haze of pleasure and love and hear them nearing the exit.

Shit.

He needed to finish this now.

Reaching down between her legs, Bruce pressed on Vivian's clit and hastened her climax. And it worked, he felt her tighten around him and he pulled her to a kiss so she wouldn't moan too loud. Not long after he came. Thankfully it wasn't too much that it made a mess.

Panting, Vivian looked at her husband once again and kissed him to say thank you, before pulling him out of her, making them moan, and then fixed his trousers and belt while Bruce licked his fingers that had some of her release. 

Cleaned and dressed again, Vivian sat back on her seat and snuggled into Bruce's embrace, both acting as if nothing happened. 

“Metropolis has its romantic spots,” Vivian said as they reached the exit.

“You don't say?” Bruce chuckled. “Oh.”

“Why? What's wrong – oh…”

Standing by the exit, Clark and Lois looked at them with narrowed gazes. Right, Clark has super hearing.

Getting off the ride, Vivian and Bruce ran out of the place with Clark and Lois at their tail. At a good distance, Lois said, “Seriously? Again? You don't need super hearing to get a full audio show on that, you know.”

“We tried to stay quiet,” Vivian sheepishly said.

“Not the point.”

As Vivian had Lois to apologize to, Bruce had Clark who couldn't look him in the eye. 

“Can I ask… what even…” Clark began.

“Vivian felt uncomfortable with the dolls. She was almost turned to a Dollotron not long ago,” Bruce explained simply.

“And you couldn't have thought of something else to distract her?”

“What can I say? We like the thrill,” Bruce chuckled as he watched Vivian laughing while Lois told her off for giving them a show that they never wanted to hear in the first place, mentioning that at the first time it was Clark who had to suffer, now she had to go through the whole ride hearing echoes of them having a quickie.

“We should do this again sometime,” Bruce smirked.

Clark turned to him in disbelief, “No!”

[brucewayneweek]

Bruce Wayne Week 2023

Official Prompts!!

Event Dates: August 20-26, 2023

Remember, this is a Character Appreciation Week for Bruce and all your works must be Bruce-centric.

1 Doctor Bruce | Meet the Parents | Saving the Savior

2 Identity Porn | Injured Bruce | Gotham Royalty

3 Batman in Smallville | Jewish Bruce | Bat-Hobbies

4 Cuddle Pollen | Bruce With Pets | Matches Malone

5 Celebrity Bruce | Inconvenient Soulmate Reveal | Bruce Gets Kidnapped

6 Displacement | Magic User Bruce | Competent Bruce

7 Sleep Deprived Bruce | Surprised to be Loved | Brucie Saves the Day

Remember to read the Rules and FAQ before creating, and send us an Ask with any questions!

Please reblog to help spread the word!!

@dc-fandom-events

[crimsonender]

Recently started this conversation on Twitter. Do you think a "wealthy savior" trope exists, similar to "white savior"? And if so can you give a couple examples, right now I can only think of Batman.

Batman is an interesting non-example cause part of the point is that Bruce Wayne CANT solve the corruption of Gotham on his own. One benevolent Billionaire cannot solve the evils of late stage capitalism and cronyism that is rife in the city of Gotham. So he has to take on a different identity and become a freedom fighter. That's why Bruce Wayne and Batman have separate identities. Batman wouldn't work if everyone knew he was Bruce Wayne. He has to operate outside of the wealth system and shirk his status as billionaire. While he does what he can by donating as much money as his shareholders allow without assassinating the guy, Batman and the movement he inspires is what starts to change Gotham for the better.

I think a much more apt example would be Tony Stark. He solves his problems by throwing money at them, and is very public about being Iron Man. His wealth, philanthropy, and the violence he enacts on his enemies are tied together as one.