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ellana-ravenwood · 2 years ago

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From parents to babies - Batfam x fem!reader

Synopsis : You and Bruce got turned into toddlers !! Shenanigans ensue, of course.

This is part of a little “series” I guess, here’s the first part with Jason : Jason Todd(ler). I’m planning on writing a lil story for all the kids hehe, but I thought : “hey, what about Batmom and Bruce ?” and here we are. Hope you’ll like this !

Please, do not repost my stories anywhere else, under any other form. Do not translate and then repost them either. Thank you.

My masterlist : @ella-ravenwood-archives

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“Bruce !”

“(Y/N) !”

You manage to scream each other’s names before-

Before a white flash engulfed the both of you, and you suddenly disappeared, only a pool of your clothes remaining where you once stood.

“Nooooo !!” is the last thing you hear before your mind goes blank, and you recognize the voice as being your youngest son’s, Damian. The sound of his scream greatly distresses you, but alas, you cannot do anything to help as you feel yourself slowly fading away and-

Footsteps. Running fast to reach the place you stood on merely seconds before. But you’re not there anymore, you’re not there !

“It’s not possible !”

That’s Jason. His voice breaking at the end of his sentence, as he approaches the bunch of clothes left on the floor, a lump in his throat as the inevitable is starting to be clearer and clearer, and he cannot refuse reality anymore.

Vaporized. His parents just got vaporized by that wannabe-magician’s laser !

In the mess of it all, that asshole even escaped ! Which was a good thing, in a way, because Jason promised you and Bruce he would never kill again, but he wasn’t sure he could hold that promise if he was faced with the man who took away his beloved parents.

You all only just made peace with each other, only just became a family again ! How was he suppose to go on losing you once more ?

Dick was the first to reach the spot in which you were. He had always been the fastest of them all. His heart beats too fast in his chest, and he has this horrible thought that it’s the second time he sees his parents being killed right in front of him when-

Movements. Small movements. There, amongst his father’s suit. And there, amongst his mother’s clothes. And then-

Little hands. Fighting to find an exit in this labyrinth of fabrics. Little grunts of frustration, like when a child is trying to do something but doesn’t quite manage to do it. Finally finding an out. And-

“Oh shit.”

Dick says, as he stares at- Two kids ??

One, a little boy. who couldn’t be more than two years old, black hair, bright blue eyes. The second one, (E/C) eyes and (H/C) hair and-

“Oh shit.”

Tim says, as he’s the second one to reach the place and he immediately understands that his parents aren’t dead, but rather...

They’ve been turned into toddlers !

“Oh shit !” You exclaim happily, giggling.

“Oh shit !” Baby Bruce repeats, and you both look at each other and giggle even more. Damn it. They’ve been in the care of children for only a second, and they already taught you bad words !

Bruce reaches for you, and there’s no doubt now that those two kids are indeed you and your husband ! Because immediately, you move closer to each other, your clothe much too big for you now being like blankets on you.

Dick picks the both of you up, wrapping you in the cloths, and turns around to greet his siblings.

Slowly, all your children reach you and-

“Oh shit !” You and Bruce say in unison, proud to show everyone (whomever those people were) that new word you just learned.

And “oh shit” indeed, is on all of your kids’ mind.

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

Of course, it had to happen when Alfred was away on his one vacation a year...Of freaking course.

It wouldn’t be funny otherwise, right ?

Only Alfred, could find a solution to this problem ! Your kids were totally lost !

Evidently, neither you nor Bruce remembered who you really were. You were clearly just two two years old.

And it seemed you didn’t mind being picked up by people you didn’t know, as long as you could stay together (you two downright SCREAMED so loudly, when Jason tried to take you from Dick’s arms so his brother wouldn’t have to hold the both of you).

It was as if that, at least, remained. Your bond.

As if you were just- Instant friends, or something.

They got you home, and :

“Ok, any of you ever took care of babies ?”

“Me not baby !” You say, glaring at your oldest son. It’s true, you knew you were two (somehow), you were no baby anymore !

“I’m sorry mom, I just- Oh gods this is so weird.”

And it truly was, weird, to see their parents, the two people they knew they could always count on if they had a problem, being literal children.

They couldn’t call them for help, you guys barely knew how to properly walk ! And had a very small vocabulary, too...Dick shook his head. This wasn’t a time to diss babies, this really wasn’t the time !

“Ok, first things first, we need to find them clothes. Duke, Jason, go the a shop and get them some stuffs to wear. While Cass and I will go buy some food for them. Damian and Dick, stay here and take care of them.” Aaaah Tim, ever so pragmatic. In a matter of seconds, he had gotten over the shock of the situation, and was taking matter in his own hands.

And it was good. It was a start. They had no idea what they were going to do after, except the fact they had to find a way to get you back to normal. But at least, they had the beginning of a plan.

They knew they could all count on Tim for plans. From A to Z, he would find a way. He had no idea how to take care of babies, of course, but his mind could find solutions to every problems.

Yes. Yes. They only had to start moving. And things would be alright. They could do this.

They could do this.

They had to do this, for both your sake.

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

Officially, Bruce and (Y/N) Wayne went away on a surprise vacation. Your disappearance had to be explained.

None of your kids called Alfred, the butler deserved his annually vacation after all, and they knew he would come right home if he heard. So they let him be, and started to take care of their “baby parents”.

Brucie ish scared

Before being the way Gotham’s media, models and such, called him when he still had his playboy persona, and not his “family man” one that he now had, “Brucie” was the nickname his mom gave him.

Never in public, of course, but when they were home. When she was telling him bed time stories or singing lullabies to him. When she woke him up, gently, in the mornings. When she told him to come home for dinner, as he was playing in the garden.

“Brucie”, was a name Bruce always associated with his mother’s affection and love. Which is why he hated how the media, and certain people, self-appropriated that name, and associated it with that persona who wasn’t even himself.

It’s not like he could do anything about it, though. He had a role to play.

And so, “Brucie” became that “other him”, while initially, it was his true self...

It had been years, since anyone had called him that. He wasn't a playboy, anymore, and your little nickname for him (aside from “my heart” and other term of endearment) was “my Broosh”.

And so finally, this name came full circle.

Brucie.

That’s how he called himself. Toddlers had that tendency to talk about themselves in the third person, sometimes. And Bruce, was referring to himself as “Brucie”, not “Bruce”.

Your children were a hundred percent sure it was because even if he didn’t seem to ask for his parents, a part of him remembered them, and how his mom called him.

Even turned into a toddler who didn’t remember much of his own life, Bruce still had his parents in mind.

And so he called himself Brucie.

And Brucie was a scaredy cat !

The irony of which didn’t escape any of your kids.

What, the “fearless Batman” was afraid of literally everything ? That was funny. Dick made sure to take PLENTY of videos (just if he needed leverage for something one day).

Brucie got scared of the vacuum cleaner. Brucie got scared of the dark. Brucie got scared of any noise that was too loud. Brucie got scared whenever (Y/N) wasn’t around. Brucie-

“Brucie ish scared !” He’d whimper, and run towards the closest “adult” he could find (any of your children, though over half of them were far from being official adults), seeking comfort.

Every time, and it was the most adorable thing to witness, you’d rush to him, and hold him saying : “No scared Brooshie, no scared, me here. Me here.”

First, “Brooshie” = so darn cute, a toddler adaptation of the traditional “Broosh”. Second, the way you’d shield him in your little arms, and how he’d hide his face and close his eyes, how he’d hold onto you and calm down as you told him to not be scared, it had to be peak adorableness.

And in a way, toddlers you were a good reflection of adults you.

Bruce was no longer scared, in the strictest sense of the term. He had shunned all his emotions, locked them away deep in his heart, for years. Ignored his pain, and the remnant of his fears.

And then you came in, and forced open his heart, shattering all the walls he build for years, and making it impossible for him to live without you (and vice versa).

Just as Baby Bruce found comfort and safety in your arms, just as he was soothed by your voice, Adult Bruce knew he could always be safe and warm in your embrace.

Nobody, when witnessing such scenes, could even dare say you weren’t made for each other.

DICK

It was so weird.

Dick just couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that you two were turned into kids. Like, what ?

His...parents were now younger than him. How weird was that ??

Of course, he knew he should be used to weird things by now. After all, over the years, from when he first became Robin to now, he had seen his fair share of strange stuffs. But this-

This was really, really odd.

“Ick !” was the name you and Bruce decided to give him. No matter how many times he made you repeat it, you could never truly manage to say his name properly. And so, he was now “Ick”.

And “Ick” had no clue how to take care of children.

Was this how Bruce felt, when he officially adopted him ? Was this how you felt, when you became his mom while being so young ?

Of course, Dick was older when he first arrived. But he was also a lot more traumatized. And he knew he could be difficult, at times. He could be so damn angry, back then.

While you and Bruce ? You were adorable kids. You’d listen to him, and never talk back. What, you were supposed to be in your “terrible twos” era, yet it seemed like you were just good kids.

Of course, the fact that your eldest son let you do absolutely everything you wanted might’ve been a reason as to why you two were so “nice” with him, and didn’t throw any tantrum.

No tantrum needed, when the person taking care of you would let you do whatever you wanted.

You didn’t wanna wear pants ? No problems. You didn’t want to eat your vegetables, but wanted sweets instead ? All good. You didn’t want to take a nap ? Then he could play with you a little longer.

Yes. It became quite apparent that Dick could not resist you, at all.

Which wasn’t much of a surprise, really. Because he was the same way with his siblings. They could make him do whatever they wanted to (outside of work, of course. When they were vigilantes, it was an entire other story, but it was because he often had to take the “leader” job, and a mistake could cost a life).

And so, even though he found it extremely weird, and couldn’t quite call you “mom” and “dad” anymore (and who would blame him ?), he didn’t hate taking care of you.

He sort of saw it as “payback”, for all the years you put up with his moods. For all the time you didn’t give up on him, and all the moments you were there to catch him when he fell.

The reason he found it so hard to accept and fathom the situation, was because you and Bruce had become such “safety nets”, for him.

You were his parents. He couldn’t think of a life without you. Without your guidance. Without your soothing words. Without your scolding, when he needed one. Without-

He couldn’t accept this turn of event, because he needed you. He had pushed you enough, in his teenage years and early adulthood. Now, he realized he absolutely needed his parents.

He had to find a solution, and fast. Because although he didn’t mind taking care of you as you were nice kids, he just wanted his parents back.

JASON

Jason was the most responsible one.

Which, when people knew your children, wasn’t that surprising.

He’d always been a responsible kid, despite what anyone could think.

He was a really good big brother, always looking out for his little siblings, and being there to be their voice of reason (Dick being his...he had a "decent teacher”).

And so he became the “mom” of the house (it’s a nickname Tim, Duke and Damian gave him, when he wasn’t there).

He had always loved cooking, ever since he was a kid. So he took it upon himself to cook healthy meals for both you and Bruce, and would scold Dick whenever he’d caught his brother red handed giving you candies and other ice cream right before dinner !

Bruce hated carrots, and you despised spinach. Other than that, it seemed you were willing to try everything he made for you two.

Jason spend hours on the internet searching for recipes fit for two years old, for things you should feed kids this young. And he came up with quite a diet for the both of you.

The food he made was delicious (and more than once, he caught one of his sibling eating from your spoon instead of feeding you !).

Jason would be the one to remind everyone of yours and Bruce’s bed time. After all, “bed time” in the Wayne household had always been a little;..different, to say the least. But with toddlers ? It couldn’t be. It had to be regular, or they’d be too tired.

Jason made a carefully planned sleep schedule for his “parents”. And when he wasn’t the one babysitting at night (they all took shifts so they could still do their vigilante jobs), he would call his sibling when it was bed time to make sure they’d respect it. He would genuinely harass Dick, because he knew his older brother was “weak” and could never refuse puppy eyes (after all, he abused of that technique to get him to do whatever he wanted, when he was younger), and he had to be reminded that a regular bed time was important !

How odd it was, for thugs, being downright beaten down by the scary Red Hood, while the latter would talk in his income and say things like : “I can’t believe you gave them ice cream before sleepy time again !” and others : “They’re babies, they need at least ten hours of sleep !”

Jason didn’t let any tantrum through. Where Dick would just let you and Bruce do whatever you wanted, Jason had clear limits.

Because that is how you raised him. Sure, Bruce could be a little too strict sometimes, especially with Dick. But he had grown as a father, and slowly learned the difference between being too rigid and allowing his kids to be kids.

Jason often joked that Dick was the “trial and error” era, but he wasn’t too far off. With Dick, you and Bruce made plenty of mistakes. You did with your other kids too, of course, but with your eldest most of all. Because he was your first child, and you had no idea what you were doing at the time.

But, yes. Jason knew the importance of limits, for children. Kids needed boundaries, so they could feel safe. He knew, because it totally worked on him.

And so, you’d have a tantrum ? Too bad, you’d just have to calm down and ask again nicely. Jason was intransigeant.

He was, though, the first one there if you or Bruce woke up crying during the night. And he’d take you in his arms (always the both of you at the same time), and sing to you. Or tell you stories. Up until you’d fall asleep again.

Jason, although he had strict schedules and food diet, was such a gentle soul. Such a gentle carer. You knew that one day, he would make a great dad. And if that experience taught any of you anything, it was that yes, yes.

Jason told would one day make a wonderful father.

TIM

"I think he doesn’t like me...”

Tim said, deflated and defeated, as, once again, his dad (in baby form) cowered away from him as he approached.

You ? You enjoyed being taken care of by Tim. You liked him very much. But for some reasons, “Brucie” seemed scared of him.

“Don’t say that. I think he’s just- shy.”

“Conner, honey, I appreciate you trying to comfort me, but if he was truly shy, he wouldn’t just- Oh come on !”

Of course, Bruce chose that exact moment to jump in Conner’s arms, and to hide his face in his chest so he wouldn’t see Tim anymore. Superboy chuckled uncomfortably, trying to act as if it wasn’t because Bruce was scared or anything, but Tim couldn’t be fooled.

Tim could never be fooled.

And so he sighed, and held you a little closer. At least, his mom always loved him, no matter what age she was.

You seemed to understand that Bruce’s actions made Tim sad, and even as a toddler, it greatly distressed you to see one of your “kids” sad. So you wiggled to signify to Tim that you want him to put you back down and-

“Oh, not you too, mom ?”

You walk towards Conner, and Tim looks even sadder, as now, both of his “parents” seem to like others better than him...Even if they were just kids, and that Tim knew they weren’t doing it on purpose, his feelings were still hurt.

But then-

You shake Conner’s pants, signifying for him to crouch down to your level. Baby Bruce is in his arms, and beams as he sees you.

“’Own, ‘own !” He says, meaning “down”, and Conner puts him next to you.

Immediately, Bruce takes your hand, and smiles widely. Which comforts Tim a little. At least, even as toddlers, it seemed you two were inseparable.

But then, you drag him towards Tim, and it’s obvious Bruce only follows because he seems very attached to you. The little boy does not want to be there, in front of Timothy Wayne-Drake.

And Tim looks down, sadly. He ruffles your hair affectionately, and says :

“Good try mom, good try. But I don't think he likes me, at all.”

You look at Tim, and then turns around towards Bruce, who was currently hiding behind you (how cute it was, that you always seemed to protect him when he was scared). But this time, you’d have none of it.

Very much alike when you were adults, and you took none of your husband’s shit. You’d always set him back on track. Always.

And so, toddler you said :

“Bwooshie, Tim nice ! Tim good ! Tim fwiend !”

You let go of Bruce’s hand, and the boy whimpers and tries to catch your hand again, but takes a few steps back because he doesn’t want to get too close from Tim. But then-

Then you hop in Tim’s arms, and you snuggle against him. You smile at Bruce, and nods at him saying again : “Tim fwiend ! Tim nice !” and your son cannot help himself and hold you tight.

Even turned into a toddler, he could count on his mama to cheer him up, it seemed...

Slowly, unsure, Bruce approached Tim. The boy was still obviously wary, but those were first steps.

After a while, Bruce finally came towards Tim, and laid his hands on your son’s knees.

He looked deeply into Tim’s eyes, and must’ve finally decided that he wasn’t so scary, because then, he climbed into his laps and everything was resolved.

And oh, oh how much this meant to Tim...

DAMIAN

“Father, you need to give her some air. I swear, even as children you two are impossible !”

“AAAAAAAAAAH !” is Bruce’s response, as Damian tries to take him away from you. Apparently, young Bruce seemed to think screaming was an appropriate response to show his unwillingness to do something.

And it frustrated Damian greatly.

You had fallen asleep on the floor. Laid on your back, you were in a deep slumber, a pacifier in your mouth, your breathing regular. And Bruce was sitting next to you, your head was in his lap, and he was watching TV as one of his hand was on your head, the other one on your cheek.

He too, had a pacifier in his mouth, and although he was focused on the TV show he was watching, it seemed like he had absolutely no intention on letting you go.

When Damian entered the room, he found the both of you like that, and decided it would be better if you slept in your bed. So he went to pick you up, gently taking his father’s hands off of you and-

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAH !” The pacifier falls from his mouth, as he tightens his grip on you, and glares at a bewildered Damian.

You’re so deep asleep that you don’t budge, and then Bruce, after glaring some more at Damian, turns back to watch the TV.

But Damian will have none of it. “Be firm, sometimes.” Jason told him, and he was going to take his big brother advice to heart ! And so he made Bruce let go, and took you into his arms.

After a pause, as Baby Bruce was too shocked to react, his mouth slowly turned down into a frown and-

The little boy bursted into tears. Big, real tears. Ugly sobs with lots of snots running down his nose.

And it made Damian panic.

He hated that. He hated those cries. It reminded him of so many bad memories. He couldn’t handle it, he couldn’t bear it.

Even less so knowing this was his dad !

And so he quickly went to the floor, and took little Bruce in his arms, soothing him expertly as he was still holding you in his other arms.

His shirt was wet from Bruce holding onto it and burying his face into it. But eventually, the boy’s sobs died down, and-

Asleep.

Bruce was fast asleep, too. And his little face looked so at ease.

There. In Damian’s arms, a hand holding one of your hand.

It reminded him of his father as an adult, in fact. How sometimes, he would surprise you and him as you fell asleep on the couch in each other’s arms. And how his father’s face would look the most relaxed and pleased, when you were holding him...

Damian tightened his grip on both of you. He was ready to protect you even if it meant he would have to sacrifice himself !

And oh- Oh he felt something growing inside him. Something important.

Eventually, you and Bruce would be back to normal. He knew it, he knew his siblings would figure something out. Yes. You’d become his parents again.

But he-

He somehow wanted a baby, in this house.

CASS

You both clearly adored Cass.

You would walk towards her, and demand for her to pick you up. And then, when she would inevitably do it, you’d both snuggle against her and quickly fall asleep, absolutely content.

Damian mentioned that he read somewhere that children felt people’s calmness. And so he conjectured that you liked falling asleep on her, because you felt calmed and secure.

Which was the truth.

It made Cass’ heart melt. She, for obvious reasons, never held children before. And she definitely never thought that the first kids she would hold would be her own parents...

Physical touch had always soothed Cass.

Before she met you and Bruce, she was never allowed to be touch, and to touch other. She’d never receive a hug, or a soothing kiss.

Never.

So when you adopted her, she swore she’d take every opportunity to snuggle against you. Against her parents. Oh, and her brothers. None of them could resist a hug from her, not even Jason or Damian.

If Cass wanted a hug, she would have it.

So, she felt so fulfilled, when baby you and baby Bruce came to seek hugs from her. As if everything went full circle.

You and your husband gave her the comfort of parental love. Gave her the safety of your arms, and taught her how important it was to have people you loved close.

And here she was, soothing little versions of you, making you stop crying just by holding you.

Yes. It was a full, nice, comforting and warm circle.

And Cass felt so happy, when you hugged her. Whether you were kids or adults.

DUKE

Duke had tons of little cousins.

Cousins he still saw now, of course. None of his uncles and aunts could take him in, for different reasons (the main one being that none of them lived in Gotham anymore, what happened to Duke’s parents being the last straw...And Duke did not want to leave the city just yet). But he still stayed in contact with them.

Before they all moved, Duke, who was the oldest of the kids in his family, used to babysit his cousins all the time. So, he had experience with children.

And it showed.

With you and Bruce, he was nice, yet strict. He (and Jason) was the only one who didn’t let you do whatever you wanted, and who would plainly ignore any of your tantrums.

He was the only one able to detach himself from the fact you were his parents, and viewed you as normal children he had to take care of.

This is probably what saved him. What made him be able to live with that situation. Just like Dick, he really wanted you back to normal. But his defense mechanism was to pretend you weren’t you, but random kids he had in his care.

It was a lot, for a seventeen years old, but Duke was strong.

You’d always known he was strong, from the moment he became your ward, to now, as he was officially adopted and called you “mom”.

For his own sanity, Duke viewed this as a “baby sitter” job, and so, on purpose, didn’t get attached to baby you and baby Bruce too much. He didn't want to, because he didn’t want you to stay like that.

He wanted his parents back too, he needed you still, he was too young to lose parents a second time !

And so Duke shut his feelings away, and took care of you as if you weren’t really you. He gave you lots of care and love, as a child needed, but-

But he pretended you, as his parents, were away for a while. And constantly thought of a plan to get you back to your normal self.

They never sleep alone

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO !!” Baby Bruce screamed, as loud as he could, holding onto your hands for dear life.

“Me not want, me not want !” You say, kicking Dick with your little legs and holding Brucie’s hands too.

Your kids quickly realized that they COULD NOT separate you for bed time.

They had bought two children’s bed, but in the end, only one was used. You’d fall asleep all snuggled to each others, pacifier in your mouth.

“It’s- Kind of like when they’re grown up.” Damian says, and they all nod.

Yes. Yes it’s true that you two found it really hard to find sleep, when the other one was absent. True insomnia would hit you, in the event that one of you couldn’t be here for the night.

What transpired in your toddler form, how you’d scream if separated, also existed with the adult versions of you.

And it comforted your children, in a way.

They knew that their parents were still in there, somewhere.

ACE

“Doggy !” Little Bruce beamed happily, as he ran as fast as he could towards..Well, his dog, actually.

Ace was taken aback, at first, as he recognized his master’s smell, but couldn’t figure out why he was so...small.

Bruce ran to him, and literally fell on the dog hugging him tightly.

“Doggy !” The little boy said, and your children felt their heart melt.

None of them ever thought they’d ever call their dad “cute”, despite you trying to convince them that he really could be cute (some would say you were biased).

But here, in that moment, as their dad seemed so damn happy just because of his dog, no other words came to their minds.

Cute.

Unruly little buggers !!

You two, together, could be...

“Tornadoes !! They’re goddamn tornadoes !!” Jason screams, as he was running after you.

You were wearing only your diaper, managing to escape the grasp of your son by taking sharp turns there and there, and knocking down every single things on your way.

On the other side of the living room, Tim and Damian were trying to catch Bruce, as he was doing the exact same things.

Ten seconds.

They left the both of you alone for less than ten seconds !!

And when they came back, you and Bruce apparently had decided that it was fun to break extremely valuable objects, including vase, and a large array of ornaments.

You were giggling like a little devil, as you slowly devastated the living room.

“Alfred is going to kill us !” Duke says, holding his head in his hands, standing there watching the disaster unfold in front of him. What else could he do, really, when some of Gotham’s mightiest heroes couldn’t even get a hold of you ??

Finally, Jason catches you, just as Tim lunges forward and grasp his dad as well. The two of you wiggle like snakes as you try to get away, but you do not cry.

No, on the contrary, you both laugh way too loudly, probably thinking that “destroying the house” was a great game.

And your kids could swear that your laughs were genuine “evil laughs”.

Later, on the security camera, they’d know what happened.

At first, you were both sitting on the floor, playing with toys, waiting patiently. But then, Bruce got on his feet, and walked that wobbly unsure walk all children have at first towards the coffee table.

Something had caught his attention. It was a small crystal vase, that Alfred had put there years ago, for decoration. It went splendidly with the carpet, and matched the room perfectly.

And it was shiny, and Bruce wanted it.

He tried to climb on the coffee table, wiggling his little butt to give himself some momentum and get on it...but he couldn’t do it. That’s when you came into action, and pushed him so he would get on.

He turned around, and giggled, as if to thank you, and then-

Then he brought you the vase.

It was quite adorable, really. He wanted it, because it was shiny and looked cool. But then he decided to give it to you, instead.

He let himself fall on the floor from the coffee table once he gave you the vase, and you both stared at it for a second. Before, for some reason, you took it and threw it hard on the wall !

Seriously, sometimes, kids were absolutely impossible to understand. What made you want to suddenly throw that vase like that ? Nobody would ever know. But what was known, is that it seemed like both you and Bruce liked that, because you looked at each others, as if conniving, and pushed yourself off of the floor, standing up.

And then, as your children entered the room with some food, you proceeded to start destroying everything you could get your hands on, up until they finally managed to get a hold on you.

And your downright EVIL laughter filled the room.

Your kids were DEFINITELY going to get that security camera footage out one day again, if you ever decided to punish them or scold them about something.

Back to normal

Zatanna, as usual, to the rescue.

When your kids were finally able to reach her. She arrived barely minutes after they exposed the problems to her. She had been in another dimension, and therefor couldn’t be reached for a while.

From her understanding, it’s been almost a month since you turned into toddlers. And finally, she was there (which was good, because Alfred’s one month vacation a year was coming to an end, and your kids really wanted to pretend nothing ever happened).

Ah but she was accompanied by an unwanted visitor...

“What are you doing here, Constantine ?” Damian asks, holding you in one arm, and his father in the other. Protectively.

“What, I learn that the big bad bat got turned into a kid and you think I could miss that ? No bloody way haha. Curiosity got the best of me !”

“I’m sorry guys, I didn’t mean to tell him but he was there when you called...”

“It’s all good aunt Z, it’s all good. To be fair, I was hoping someone else would see this too, so we can NEVER let them forget they had to wear diapers again haha.”

“Grayson !” your youngest son exclaimed. It’s been a while, since Damian called Dick “Grayson”, but he was absolutely shocked about this “betrayal” !

“Ok, ok. Let’s make sure dad never forget he had to wear diaper again !”

Damian thought about it for a while, and then said : “And you’ll leave mom alone ?”

“Yes, promised.” Dick says, and Constantine nods too (he wasn’t about to mock you anyway, he was too scared of you).

“Alright, then it’s acceptable.”

And on that note, Zatanna started a ritual.

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

“What the hell happened ??” Are Bruce’s first words. And then, he sees you, and takes you into his arms, holding you with almost too strongly.

“I thought I had lost you...” He whispers, and you hold him back just as strongly, because you had the same thought. The last thing you remembered, after all, was that laser coming towards the two of you and then-

And then what ?

After letting you hug each other, your children finally tell you what went on.

And oh. Oh you were so damn proud of them, they did so good !

I want a baby sibling

A few weeks went by.

A few weeks, during which both Dick and John Constantine flooded the group chat all the supers had together with baby pictures of the Batman (oddly enough, they didn’t divulge any picture of you...probably because you scared them a little), and embarrassing videos. It was an endless source of jokes, and teasing from everyone.

But you didn’t worry too much though, you knew your husband would have his revenge (in fact, you were more worried for your son and for Constantine than anything else).

In any case, that episode would be soon behind you, save for a few mockeries there and there. At least, that’s what you thought.

One morning, Damian just casually entered your bedroom and stood before your bed, staring at the two of you, as you were slowly leaving the dream world.

You thought it was an emergency, at first, as none of your children would ever dare to just walk in your bedroom like that (lest they witness something that could scar them for life). But Damian calculated the risks.

It was much too early, for either of you to be awake. So it was safe. And so he came in, without knocking, and planted his feet resolutely in the floor, his hands on his waist, staring the both of you down.

“What is it, buddy ?” You ask, half-asleep. Bruce, his hair a mess, sat up, dazed.

“I came to an important decision. One taken in the light of recent events.”

Confused, neither you nor your husband say anything. Waiting for what your son is going to say next. Slowly, he turns around, and starts to walk left, then right, then left...Pacing in front of your bed, his eyes never leaving you two.

Finally, he stops, and solemnly says :

“I want a baby sibling. Sister or brother I do not care, I just want a little one to take care of, and to be a big brother. I think, I am done being the youngest.”

Bruce stares dumbly at his son, his face blank and expressionless, sure now that he must still be dreaming. And you’re not doing any better. You blink fast a few time, and repeat :

“A baby sibling ?”

Damian doesn’t miss a beat as he says :

“That’s right. Like I said, a little brother or sister, it does not matter to me, as long as it’s mine. My little brother or sister, I mean. Of course, they’ll be their own person, and we won’t own them per se. We’ll just take care of them.”

Silence.

A long silence.

Finally broken by your son :

“Well. I’ll leave you to it then. I expect you will take my request seriously. We will talk about it again another day. Thank you for listening to me, and see you at breakfast.”

And on that note, your son leaves just as casually, as you look at him, astonished.

You turn to your husband and-

You know what he’s thinking. You and Bruce never talked about having biological children, because the kids you already have were always enough for your happiness. You didn’t need more, you already loved them so much.

But you both always told yourselves that if it were to happen...

Of course, you would accept it. You would raise that child with joy, too. It would be quite a bonus, to an already happy life.

And so as your son leaves, and you look at each others you think-

A baby in the house, wouldn’t be so bad.

__________________________________________________

Well, here we are ! I hope you liked this ! As per usual, comments/reblogs are more than welcomed, and always a great motivation to post more :). Don’t hesitate to tell me what you thought of this ! It always makes the time spend on a story worth it, when I hear from y’all :) <3. Thanks in advance, and thanks for reading this, too ! See you soon with another story !

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multi-fandom-enjoyer · 3 months ago

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Superman: Bruce, are you home?

He says while flying into the Batcave only to find Bruce in front of the bat-computer. He addresses Clark without looking up.

Batman: The files are on the table to your right. It's all the files Lex has on synthetic kryptonite.

Superman: Oh, thank's Bruce-

Cass and Y/n pass through the Batcave after returning from patrol.

Y/n: Oh, hey guys!

Cass waves as they walk off and continue their conversation.

Clark watches in confusion before pinching his nose and exhaling.

Superman: Bruce-

Batman: Don't worry, they're not one of mine. They're Cass's partner, both in the field and romantically.

Superman: Good. Now to deal with Luthor.

After a few moments, Bruce makes sure Clark is gone before picking up the bat-phone.

Batman (whispers): Alfred, call the guy!

Superman (In the distance): I heard that!

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monst · 3 months ago

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In love with the Batgirls

When you say I love you and how they respond:

Batgirls x Gn. Reader

Cassandra Cain, Barbara Gordon, Stephanie Brown (In this order)

Cassandra Cain:

You were looking at the mosaic of dried old gum on the sidewalk when a chilly breeze stole your attention. Your eyes squeeze tight as you shiver your hand tightening against warm fingers. Cassandra squeezed back calloused hands warm against your palms. She pulled you forward with her towards a line. The breeze tousles her short dark hair, her scarred fingers moving them from her eyes as she tells you about the jumbo pretzel she wants to share with you on your walk to the botanical gardens.

“You need to try it with the cheese.” Now it wasn’t the most grand confession ever but you don’t think she’d have liked it if it was. So on that line on a random Thursday afternoon, you smiled and said.

“I love you.”

And if you could fall in love all over again it would be because of the grin she sent your way. Cheeks flushed a light pink when she parted her lips to say.

“I Know.”

Barbara Gordon:

You held your breath when you heard the doors burst open. You had just narrowly made it into the vents, your chest still heaving as you listened to the group clear the room below you. You took your chance to inch further away while they turned over furniture. You felt your blood chill when you heard them mention checking the ventilation system. Your pace hastening through the never-ending maze. You could make out the metal thudding behind you, it wasn’t close. Yet. Minutes tick by with your radio still blurting out static, and you’ve had to double out of another dead-end. And with each crawl, it felt as if the noise of your pursuers grew closer. You didn’t know if she could hear you, the signal had been jammed since you entered the building but you just had to let her know. In case…

“Hey uh, not sure if you can even hear me but.. I wanted to let you know… before I die that I. I uh... I love you.” You were met with silence before your comms device crackled, Oracle’s voice ringing through.

“You're not going to die on my watch take the next left and come home to me.”

Stephanie Brown:

Steph has cheese sauce on her lower lip from her cheese steak sub. Her cheek is repping her favorite color, a bruise from a lucky goon last night. Her undereyes are dark with lack of sleep, her curls a bit wild from her shift. But her rosy lips don't stop smiling as she tells you about the service dog she saw at the ER today. Something something the cutest thing! She’s talking a mile a minute about how her mom adopted one that looks just like it. ‘They could be from the same litter!’ She’s got a smile playing on your lips when she pulls out her phone to show you a picture. The dog was cute but your mind wasn’t on her story, it was on the pink bandaid wrapped around her pinky, her purple polka-dot scrubs, and the curve of her eyes smiling as she told you about her day. She's taking another bite of her sub when you take a chance blurting out:

“I think I love you” You see her whole body pause, and you watch with bated breath as she sets her food down on the park bench. Your body relaxes when you see her flushed pout, and you shrug sheepishly when she replies with a groan.

“Seriously dude?! While I look a mess?!”

#cassandra cain x reader #stephanie brown x reader #barbara gordon x reader #uh random bullshit go!#oracle x reader #spolier x reader #black bat x reader #I was craving cheese...

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idyllcy · 1 year ago

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girlhood

word count: 2.4k

warnings: implied attempted rape/assault, but overall fluff

summary: sometimes girlhood is just loving the girl you grow up with

in the beginning of a girl's life, there is little to love and everything to despise.

From the way the toys are created with boys in mind and the only cool things are given to the boys, you had learned to despise what was given to you with a title of 'girl'. You always had to be the damsel in distress, you always had to be the one being saved, and you could never hold a sword and cheer about how you had saved the princess from the tower and loved her to the moon and back. The misogyny you develop as a result of whatever the hell it was that the system taught you is ingrained into your blood, and you despise your girlhood. You hate being a girl because pink is girlish and it isn't strong enough. You hate being a girl because you aren't strong.

then comes trying to stick out— Then comes trying to be different from everyone else, Then comes trying to be one in a million.

Then comes sticking around girls who are tomboyish like you, then comes sticking around people like you, realizing in a cruel dawning that boys would never like you no matter how girlish you came to be, and realizing that boys would only ever see girls as something to play. It didn't matter if you weren't like the rest of them; they would think of you as the same as the rest anyway, so you find solace in the girls like you. You stick with girls like you, girls who are quiet, orphans. You blink at the black-haired girl owlishly on the street, the street light illuminating her, and you open your mouth, but she understands nothing. She doesn't even blink.

You try and motion with your hands.

She understands then, fishing something out of her pocket, and you exhale in relief.

You bow as a sign of thanks as she disappears into the darkness.

The pad in your hand crinkles slightly as you rush to the nearest tent to change.

girlhood is a rollercoaster of things under the rain of society you receive as a result of your biology.

You dig through the back of a Nordstrom rack to find thrown-out clothes you can try and wear, staying vigilant to stay away from cops and not get yelled at by the employees, tossing what you could wear into a bag, tossing what you couldn't into another, some instinctive and part of you desperate to take care of the other young ones on the street who were worst off than you, even if it didn't matter whether or not they survived the winter. You finish in the trash, the smell normalized in your system, the rats no longer bothering you.

You meet her again tonight, her tilting her head at you, you blinking owlishly at her again, and this time, she motions the same with your hand, and you rummage through your pocket, handing a similar wrapper to her, smiling. You settle her hair and draw in the gravel with your broken shoe the way to the bathroom, and she nods at you as a thank you. You watch as she disappears, her black hair fluttering behind her, and you haul the trash bags over your shoulder, looking for the street children.

The bags drag through the gravel as the first snow in Gotham starts, and you change into new clothes and shoes as the children do too, and you smile at them sadly, heart whispering, souring in your chest, and you wonder if you could have a family. Maybe you would have been happy had you been in a family that loved you and did not care to have a son, but it wouldn't have been the same. You wouldn't have been loved even if you did end up in a family that loved you, because that was not a life for you to live.

You tilt your head at the girl who blinks back at you, a candy bar in her hand, handing it to you.

You wonder if she stole it.

Well, not that it matters. You pat the spot next to you as the two of you sit down by the docks, and you snap the bar in half, handing part of it to her as you stare down at the Gotham waters— waters with so many chemicals that you would probably die if you had a sip (not that it stopped you. Clean water was still a privilege to have.)

She tilts her head at you, pulling on her lips, imitating a smile.

You smile back.

girlhood is forcing yourself not to throw up over despising what you are to others.

The mirror in the convenience store is bloody from Batgirl's fight with a random man who tried raping you in the stall. The man is unconscious in the stall, and you heave, eyes wide, heart ringing in your ears as you try and return to the real world. You feel a hand on your back, a hand too gentle to be a man's, and the hand doesn't move, almost as if there to ground you. You don't have the courage to move, the fear rendering every part of your body unable to, and your final break into reality comes in the form of hot, scathing tears that fall in fat blobs onto the dirty tile, and the cry that rips past your lips ricochets off the walls, the agony causing the ground to shake. You sob into the girl's shoulder as she holds you, slightly worried, unsure if she was doing the right thing. She thinks it's correct since you haven't made a move to shove her off.

You cling onto the black of her clothes, your whole body quivering from the attempt, grounding yourself in the cling of Batgirl herself. She wishes she could speak to you, maybe. She wonders if it would be better if she could speak to you, but she supposes that all you need right now is a shoulder to cry on. The man she's just beaten is going to be dead in the next three minutes if she doesn't call for help, but she finds herself frozen while embracing you.

It's scary. She admits that— and if the man who caused you fear to this degree is going to die because of her, then so be it. You matter more.

You pull away eventually, apologizing for keeping her, voice hoarse. You don't say anything after the first word, everything tumbling past your eyes as you stare at her.

She nods her head, finally calling for backup as she walks you back to your camp, and you wonder.

You type on the broken phone you fished out of the back of a Best Buy, showing her the screen.

you like girls?

Batgirl disappears before you get a response.

You weren't even able to tell her answer based off her body language or eyes because she was covered head to toe.

girlhood is picking up pieces of yourself after a bad day, tucking yourself back into what you have, learning to slowly cherish yourself again.

You stare at the mirror in your apartment this time. The pieces of your life fall back into your hands slowly, the scars from getting into fights on the streets slowly learning to heal. Old wounds start to mend themselves. The scars from when the boys at school would throw themselves at you, the wounds from when you had fought to free yourself from the police when caught stealing, the wounds from everything.

You blink at Batgirl at night on days that she visits, your window unlocked, her wrapped in your bedding, and you don't offer much other than that.

You aren't seeing each other.

You two are... friends? Best friends? Girls?

You don't know. The concept of relationships is far too complicated for your well-being, and they're too much for you to care about. All you care about is how her hand feels rough in yours as you paint her nails black, her gloves pulled off. You wonder if it's a sign of trust between the two of you. You'll never get to see her face-to-face, maybe, but it didn't matter. She looked just as confused as you when the two of you first got the bag of makeup, the two of you huddled on your couch as you watched people teach you how to do makeup on the internet.

Batgirl can't do her makeup, but you can, and you let her do yours as she watches the video.

She tilts your face with her calloused hands, hands stained with so much blood that it could fill a bath, hands rough from everything she's handled up until that point in time, and you giggle, a smile on your lips as the brush dances across your face. The blush is spread, and you stare at yourself in the mirror, laughter spilling past your lips as half of your face is pink with the powder, but there is no malice behind your laugh.

You find your girlhood with Batgirl slowly, lips pulled into a smile, teeth fully out for her to tilt her head at.

She finds her girlhood where she's allowed to cry and smile and scream in you, and you find your girlhood where you have friends that aren't boys and talk about what you love until your ears fall off.

You find parts that you lost in each other, hands laced together under the moon on the roof, the stars visible in the sky, laughter spilling from both your lips, something lost found again.

because once the storm is over, girlhood causes the clouds to clear and one to fall in love with herself again.

You spin slowly in your room, a pair of broken pointe shoes dug out of the dumpster behind a ballet studio, and Batgirl claps enthusiastically as you bow at her afterward. The shoes were scrubbed clean after much hard work from the two of you, and the shoes were fixed with a little google on your new phone.

You find a part of yourself that you lost while dancing for Batgirl, your steps too masculine, your stride too proud, but you're happy. There's something that blooms and spreads through your skin as you spin and spin and spin, your head spinning for you to calm down yet you don't, a laugh on your lips as you continue spinning until Batgirl catches you in her arms, a smile surely on her face from the way her mask was pulled. She stills, you still in her arms, and you smile foolishly.

She tries the shoes on eventually, and your eyes sparkle as you look at her, her spins are much more graceful and elegant than yours, her bows much more dainty than yours, but it makes you all the more in love with her, your cheeks flushing with warmth as you tackle her to the ground with a laugh, smiling down at her with a laugh.

"We should dance together," You click on your phone, showing her as you kick your feet.

She stretches her arms above her head as she takes the phone from you, clicking back.

You rest your head on your pillow as she clicks and taps, and you blink slowly, closing your eyes eventually, a content smile on your face as you think about the two of you. You're happy like this, your heart racing in your chest with her next to you.

You love her, you think.

Batgirl shows you her phone, and you smile cheekily.

Her answer is yes this time.

girlhood may leave, but it will come back. Just as it's ingrained into your skin, you're engrained into its heart as well.

Batgirl goes missing on you for a couple months, maybe even a couple of years— you lose count.

The memory of her stays in your apartment, even when rent goes up slightly and you wonder whether or not to move, you stay there, her black nail polish dried up on your vanity, the makeup long expired and new one sitting in replacement of the old one. You sit in front of your vanity mirror doing your own makeup now, memories of Batgirl's rough hands still on your skin, but a smile on your face as you do, her love still with you.

You sign up for ballet classes eventually, being moved back and forth to play the more masculine characters, sometimes playing the girls, other times playing background characters, but you never once forget the black bat in your room in the dead of the night. You adore her to the moon and back, sure that you'll never find someone as precious as her ever again— and for that moment in time, you're happy you had known her.

Even if she had been nothing more than a cryptic friend of yours, you had found a part of yourself that you denied to own for the longest time because of her, and you loved her with your whole heart, even if it weren't something you could have done with someone else. You found a piece of you back slowly, love for her spilling through the cracks of your girlhood to connect with hers, the two of you only for each other.

But there's something else— You have a ballet to attend.

An anonymous invite to the audition, a generous gift from an anonymous sponsor, and a pair of ballet shoes that you could only dream of having as a child.

Your hair has grown too long for you to play the role of a masculine lead, and your nails are done to look pretty. Your roles are no longer the ones of masculine stride and form, your spins are delicate, and you wonder for a moment while getting ready who the other lead would be. Would you click with them? Even if you don't, it's not a choice.

The ballet ends as you sob with your lover in your arms, the curtains pulled, and your whole body freezes when you remember the feel of your skin on hers.

The girl grins up at you, opening her mouth to speak to you.

"I love you too."

sometimes, girlhood is pressing your lips to the girl you love, smiling against her lips, giggles slipping past your lips as you both gasp for air behind closed curtains—

and that's perfectly fine the way it is.

#I LOVE WOMENNN RAHHHHHH #cassandra cain x reader #orphan x reader #(I think that's her hero name)#black bat x reader #batgirl x reader #cass cain x reader #cassandra cain imagine #cass cain imagine #dc x reader #☾.fics

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dickmedowndc · 2 years ago

Text

When You Come Home - Cassandra Cain x Reader

Word Count: 1,748

Summary: You would never trade Cass for anything – even if it meant anxiety when she came home a little rough from patrol or she needed to vanish for a few days at a time for a more complex mission. It never lessened the worry you felt when she walked out the door. So, when she is gone for two weeks longer, you’re almost a wreck. The reprieve comes when she makes it back in the door, after 3 am, only for you to find out she must head out again soon after for another extended trip. But Cass is facing worries of her own.

Notes: Inspired by a “100 kisses” prompt list – number 39: “everything is going to be okay” kisses.

…★…

16 – that was how many days had passed since your girlfriend had been due back. No messages or heads up on a mission extension. Nothing but silence. She always made sure to come by the day after she arrived back in Gotham, or at least got a message to you.

But this time there was nothing, and the stress was beginning to claw at your skin like a rabid dog.

You understood, of course, after she had finally told you who she was, that sometimes – most times – if a mission was to go longer than expected, there would be no way for her to tell you.

It never stopped the worry.

You had called out of work for the day and the next – too worked up over every possibility that could go wrong. Too scared of what might have happened. And then too scared at the prospect of never finding out at all.

The day had been spent stress cleaning anything you could get to in the apartment. Furniture rearranged so much so that the resident of the floor below you, an older lady, had come up to ask you to stop. You had only been able to give her a half-hearted apology before closing the door and going back to sweeping the small kitchen.

The worry must have been written all over your face, because she came back later with a small plate of food wishing you the best.

Still, after you had cleaned every possible thing that you could, and the gifted food had been devoured hungrily – a blessing since you had neglected to eat in your current state – that left you with nothing to do but think.

That was the last of what you wanted.

But your mind refused to focus on any other hobby, and if Cass had found out you had gone out alone in this state, at 2 in the morning, she might try and lock you inside the apartment next time.

Or have one of the other Bats start checking up on you.

But there was nothing to temp you out as is. Not unless you received a call about your girlfriend, or a message from her specifically. Nothing could stop you from flying out that door fast enough to put the Flash to shame if that happened.

But an hour later found you still sitting on the couch, with nothing but the sounds of the city as white noise against the raging tempest of your mind.

There was nothing else you could do for the time, and with the weight of the day wearing on you, the only option you had was to go to bed and try to sleep. Even if it was nothing more than fitful attempts.

So, you did. Hardly even bothering to slip into something comfortable enough to sleep in and crawling under the covers, one of your pillows hugged tightly to your chest as you buried your face against it and tried, just tried, to sleep.

Eventually, the weight of your eyelids and coldness of the room won out, and you drifted off. Deep enough that when the front door was unlocked and pushed open it never even made you flinch.

Of course Cassandra moving through the apartment was not enough to wake you – she was always so quiet and so careful. Years of training and knowing the apartment like the back of her hand left waking you out of the realm of possibility.

Just how she liked it. Interrupting your sleep was something she usually tried to avoid unless something was wrong.

And this time she was certain all she wanted was to get cleaned up and slip into bed next to you. Until the responsibilities of the day could be avoided no longer.

But that meant a shower – she was long overdue for one, and while you would never say a word about it, she’d rather be clean before she slipped under the sheets and curled up against you.

The sound of the running water, even through the closed bathroom door, was eventually what woke you.

The culprit failed to register at first, as you blinked slowly, trying to ignore the sound gently pulling you back to the waking world. Brushing it off as your girlfriend taking a shower after patrol, like so many times before.

Until the water stopped, and you snapped up, head whipping around to look in the direction of the bathroom, because that was when it had dawned on you. She had not been on patrol, because she had not been home.

It’s hardly a minute later before Cassandra slips out of the bathroom and makes eye contact with you, giving a tired smile as she makes her way to the bed and sits on the edge. There’s a look of concern on her face and you cannot place why until she reaches out, putting a hand to your cheek and brushing away tears you were unaware had begun to fall.

Her voice is so soft as she speaks, and you can hardly hear it as you try to reign your emotions in. “Are you okay?”

There is no movement, nothing, for what feels like a lifetime, until you shoot forward and pull her into a hug, burying your face into the crook of her neck and not bothering to stop the tears. You hold on to her white-knuckled, like loosening your grip for even a fraction of a second then she’ll vanish from before you.

Cassandra says nothing, at a loss for words for the pain she feels responsible for, just rubbing what she hopes are soothing circles into your back.

You are unsure how long it has been, but finally it registers that she had asked you a question and to pull back enough to look at her. “I’m better now.” You let out an apologetic sound, pulling back to wipe the rest of your tears away as the crying finally subsides. “I’m sorry, I've just been worried,” you assure her.

The two of you had been dating long enough for you to know when something was wrong, and you can see the way she reacts, like the beginnings of a sentence rest on her tongue – one she bites back. It is enough to prompt you to ask what is on her mind, taking her hands in your own as you move to get more comfortable.

Cassandra seems to pull away, though her own hands tighten their grip on yours.

It doesn’t take much else before the answer dawns on you. “You have another mission?”

She sighs, and her shoulders drop before she finally meets your eyes with a regretful look. “I leave in a week. It will be another month at least, likely longer.”

It isn’t ideal. In fact, it just leaves you with a feeling of dread. She had already been gone so long and now you were going to lose her again? Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest and break at the same time.

Cassandra manages to pull you back to the present, calming you as she gets your attention and seems relieved when you finally focus back on her.

But something is wrong, like she isn’t telling you everything, and it leaves a feeling of unease prickling along your skin. “Is there something else?”

Cassandra hesitates before nodding. “We don’t have to talk about it tonight though.”

“Cass, please, just talk to me.”

It is then that she withdraws her hands from your own, seeming to buckle in on herself. “I’ve been thinking. My life is taking a toll on you, and I'm not sure how much longer this relationship will last because of it.” She pauses, eyes focused on her own hands clasped tightly together in her lap – she had faced so many dangers in her life, taken things head on, but the possibility that her next words could become a reality was terrifying. “And I would understand if you wanted to end things.”

Like a dagger to the heart, her words sink in. “Do you want to end things?”

“No!” Cassandra hushes after her reflexive outburst, embarrassed. “But I see the way you worry. Look at tonight - I made you cry. Why would you want to stay in a relationship like this?”

You can see in her eyes that she expects you to agree, to tell her that everything she said is true and send her away for good – but that she desperately wants it to be wrong. And it is, you intend to assure her of that.

“I knew when you told me you were Orphan that this wasn’t going to be easy. I knew there would be plenty of nights where I wouldn’t know what had happened to you until later, and that one day, if – and I say this as an extreme – you got hurt and never came back that maybe I wouldn’t even get closure on that. That I would never find out.”

She jumps at that, “someone would tell you. If it did happen, they wouldn’t leave you in the dark.”

It’s a small reprieve, if only for a moment, that she had thought of that, but it still terrifies you as well.

“My point is, I’d worry about you even if we broke up, and I’m not willing to walk out of this relationship. I knew what kind of person you were when we started dating, and I could never ask you to give this life up.”

Cass pulls you closer, until you’re in her lap, and you offer no fight as she does. More than happy just to be near her.

Just to be sure that she’s really with you.

Her soft voice only confirms that it isn’t a dream. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“Hey,” you call softly, tilting her head until she is looking at you. When you have her attention, you pull her forward, kissing her like you had been wanting to do for more than a month now. “Everything is going to be okay,” you assure her.

Cass hums, content and put at ease with your answer. Resting her forehead against your own and closing her eyes, you both enjoy the moment, until she shifts, pulling you down with her onto the bed to sleep, unwilling to let go.

You’ll enjoy every moment you get with her, and, you think, maybe you can convince her to take patrols off until she leaves again.

#dc x reader #nicole writes #cassandra cain x reader #orphan x reader #batgirl x reader #black bat x reader #why does she have so many names #i love her but gd

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inkareds · 1 year ago

Note

can you do a cass cain x female reader story?

Rest Your Weary Eyes Cassandra Cain

nav // dc m.list // ko-fi

✧.* word count: 1k (a shortie) ✧.* genre: Fluff ✧.* warnings: The reader is female, that's it

After a long night, Cassandra just wants to be in the arms of the woman she loves

Jesus christ this was requested last year I am so fucking sorry I had like 0 ideas for her so I'm really sorry if she's a bit ooc (also I'm working on everyone's requests starting from the oldest one 💀)

“Black Bat watch your six!” Cass quickly turned around at the sound of Barbara in her earpiece.

Unfortunately, she didn’t turn quickly enough as the moment she did turn around, the assassin had already lunged towards her. Being around thrice her size, the assassin barrelled towards her and shoved her entire body towards a brick wall.

Cass groaned as he landed a punch to her abdomen, disoriented from the crash the assassin was quick to land a few more hits to her. Though once she did regain her focus, her eyes saw opportunity after opportunity within the assassin’s hold against her. Making use of his weak points, she efficiently took him down.

Finally, back on her own two feet, Barbara spoke again.

“There’s four more coming your way.” Cass sighed.

“This is going to be a long night.” She muttered under her breath.

Your tired eyes tried their best to stay awake as you glared at the document in front of you. There were barely any words on the screen, yet you have to finish this four thousand-word essay by the end of the week. A task, at this point, you felt was impossible to do. You shook your head.

“I can do this.” You muttered to yourself as you began to type.

After the first few paragraph and sips of your favourite tea, you finally got your groove for writing back. The words came somewhat easily to you as you progressed into the essay.

In fact, you were so focused you didn’t hear the loud thump on the outside of your fire escape. Nor the sound of the window opening. All you saw was a black shadow in the shape of a bat behind you from the reflection of your computer. Causing you to scream out.

Cass immediately took off her mask and put both her hands up.

“It’s me! It’s me!”

Realising now that this was Cassandra Cain, your longtime girlfriend, you let out a loud sigh.

“Oh my fucking god! Why’d you gotta scare me like that?! I know you’re like trained to be quiet or something! But Jesus, I think you shaved off four years off my life.” You chuckled holding your chest as you heaved, still panicked.

Though, after seeing Cass’ reaction to your statement, you sterned yourself. There was a tired tight-lipped smile on your beautiful girlfriend’s expression. Your brows furrowed together as you looked across her body.

With her standing up and you still sat down on your chair, you could get a good look at her costume. Muck, dirt, and blood greased the surface of her suit. Sweat stuck to the skin of her face and her hair was much greasier than usual after a night of patrolling. Not to mention how tired she actually looked. Her eyes dropped and it would seem that she was begging for a shower.

You sighed and shook your head. Cass was just standing there, her chest rising and falling at the deep breaths she was taking to try and calm her quick heartbeat from the tough patrol she just went through. She came here to just see you. Spy on you for a little bit, as creepy as that sounds, she just wanted to make sure you were okay.

Today’s patrol made her remember how dangerous of a place Gotham could be. She needed to know that you were safe and sound. What she didn’t expect was for her body to not listen to what her brain wanted and snuck into your room.

But now that she was actually in your room, in front of you, she didn’t really know what to do.

“Go shower, my love. I’ll get some of your clothes that you left here then we can rest together.”

At your response, she smiled before making her way towards the bathroom.

Though the two of you didn’t live together, it was almost like your apartment was her second home. Next to your towel was a grey towel just for her. Next to your toothbrush was her own. She even had her face wash and skincare right next to yours. She smiled looking around the bathroom, it was such a simple space.

Something a lot of people overlook, but it was an important part of a home. It was almost like you in that regard, though she chuckled over her mind comparing you to a bathroom.

You were far more than that. But it was true. You weren’t a vigilante, you weren’t a hero, you were just a normal civilian student going by her daily life. You were by no means special in the grand scheme of things and you could be overlooked by many things in life.

But by her? By Cassandra Cain trained assassin and Black Bat? You were everything. You were one of the most important things in her life. And seeing her life slowly merge into yours in the shape of her belongings slowly making a home in your home? That caused her heart to swell.

So much that she couldn’t help but take a quick hot shower so she could cuddle with you on your bed.

When she finished her shower, you were already in bed ready to welcome her.

Cass wordlessly shuffled to your bed and wrapped her hands around your torso as she lay on her side. Her face buried deep in the crook of your neck. You chuckled at her touchiness, who would’ve thought one of the genuinely most terrifying vigilantes in Gotham was such a cuddle bug?

As you kissed the top of her head you whispered.

“Good night Cass.”

Cass hummed back.

“Good night beautiful.”

At the comfortable weight of your love safe and sound in your arms. Her somewhat still wet hair against your hands, you felt yourself drifting into a deep sleep. Though not before you heard Cass mumble.

“Thank you.”

Leaving you to sleep with a wide smile, knowing tomorrow morning you’d actually be able to have a conversation with the woman you loved. Now, though, now, you’d both rest.

#cassandra cain #cassandra cain x reader #cassandra x reader #cassandra cain x you #cassandra x you #black bat #black bat x reader #black bat x you #dc #dceu #batman

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girlkisser13 · 5 months ago

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cassandra cain masterlist

* indicates smut

headcanons

dating cassandra cain would include

nsfw headcanons *

cassandra cain x queen fem!reader

imagines

drabbles

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ramen-flavored · 2 months ago

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my dude is getting Barbie Dolls and a Star

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rainnyydaysworld · 9 months ago

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Tim: Hey, do you know the password to Damian’s computer?

Duke: Fuck you, Tim.

Tim: Hey!!

Duke: No, you misunderstood, the password is "fuckyouTim".

Tim: Oh, no numbers? Not very safe.

—

Reader: Get on my level!

Steph: Unfortunately, to "get on your level" I'd need a boat trip to the Mariana Trench and a pair of cinderblock shoes.

—

*Dick is fighting a monster*

Barbara : Just stay calm! You already have everything you need to beat it!

Dick: The power to believe in myself!?

Barbara : No, a knife! Stab it!

—

Reader: Sorry I'm late, I was doing stuff.

Jason: YOU PUSHED ME DOWN THE FUCKING STAIRS!

—

Damian: Tim, this morning, I called you abhorrent and reprehensible, and I’d like to withdraw that statement-

Tim: Aww, thanks-

Damian: But I can't. Those are the 2 words that best describe you.

—

Reader: So, Steph is no longer allowed to take the trash out at night.

Cassandra: Why?

Reader: Because I've caught her trying to train raccoons to fight five times in a row.

Steph, arms crossed and pouting: You'll be thanking me when the third raccoon battalion saves your ass.

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indulgentdaydream · 3 months ago

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Headcanon about Jason’s and Alfred’s birthday that is five days late BUT:

From any batkid’s perspective other than Dick and Jason’s, it’s just a known fact that Alfred does not celebrate his birthday. No one even knows when it is.

They’ve tried asking him. He won’t budge. It doesn’t help that none of them even know his correct age so they can’t go off of that either.

“Why won’t you let us celebrate your birthday, Alfred?” Steph asked one day while everyone else was around.

“There’s no reason for me to celebrate anymore. I’ve had enough birthdays.”

Not even Bruce will budge on the matter.

Then, long after Jason comes back. Only once he finally reconnects with his family, does anything happen.

Tim walks into the kitchen one day and sees Alfred and Jason at the counter, bowls around them. “What are you two doing?”

“Baking a cake,” Alfred responded. Tim could see the chocolate flavouring from here.

“Can I help?” Cass spoke up from behind Tim.

Jason turned, a stern, cold glare on his face, “No.”

Alfred reached up and tugged on Jason’s ear for a moment before continuing to stir, turning to face the other kids, “It’s a tradition. Best to keep to it.”

That night, they all sat at the dinner table. Alfred set down the cake in front of Jason, who sat at the head of the table with everyone around him.

Damian was the first to notice the writing, “What is this?”

Everyone leaned a little closer. Surrounded by burning candles, in neatly scrawled white icing in cursive font read, “Happy Birthday Jason!"

Then below it, in thick, sloppy, capital letters, read "+ ALFRED"

Everyone’s confused except Dick and Bruce.

“Why is Alfred’s name on the cake?”

“Because it’s his birthday, too? I don’t see what the big fuss is.”

After everything is explained and cake is handed out, there comes to be a mutual, unspoken understanding.

Alfred had lost his reason to celebrate his birthday. Now, after all these years, he had it back.

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shortnsweetsposts · 22 days ago

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Bat!reader: Who eat's the skin of the lemon?

Stephanie: Not me. Oh, but you know *motioning shaving lemon skin with her hands*

Bat!reader: Lemon zest? That's lemon zest.

Stephanie: Yeah!

Bat!reader: Lemon zest is so good!

Stephanie: But that's still lemon skin...

Bat!reader, turning their head towards Cassandra: You like lemon zest?

Cassandra: Ya.

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to-the-stars8 · 1 month ago

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The Waynes' Nanny

Batfamily and Reader/ Bruce Wayne x Reader Chapters Ao3

Book Shop Nanny

It was too nice of a day in Gotham to pass up sitting in the park. So, you packed up a little basket of food, a picnic blanket, and some toys, and rounded up the brood of children to force them into a day of outside activities. They all were enthusiastic about it, in reality, and even Mr. Wayne decided to join you.

Now, you were sat between Damian, who was getting a bit sleepy already, and Mr. Wayne, who looked too pale in proper lighting. The rest of the kids, save for Dick, were running about playing a sham game of badminton. You watched them happily, your heart leaping with every childish giggle or joke. Then, you noticed the eldest Wayne boy sitting across from you.

Dick was torn between paying attention to the group and a fine pair of brown eyes not too far away. You looked to where his eyes were to see a young redheaded girl sitting on a blanket with some friends, giggling away. Like you, they were having a picnic.

Smiling, you said, “You should go talk to her.”

“What?” Dick said.

Bruce glanced down at you, now focusing on the conversation right next to him. He didn’t say anything but listened as you said, “I see you staring at her, Dickie. Just go say hi.”

Looking over his shoulder, Bruce saw Barbara Gordon, Commissioner Jim Gordon’s daughter, sitting with her friends. Dick stumbled over his words, eventually getting out that it wasn’t really an option for him to go up and just talk to her.

“Do you know her?” You asked. When Dick nodded yes, you added, “Then it shouldn’t be a problem. Just go up and say you saw her over there and wanted to say hi.”

The boy seemed a little more interested now. “What if she really doesn’t want to see me?”

“Then get the hint and leave her alone. You’re making this too complicated.”

“What do I say?” Dick said.

Bruce was going to give some advice at that point, just to seem like a parent, but you were quick with a response. “After you say hi, ask her what she’s up to today. Just ask her about herself. People love talking about themselves.” You took a moment to yell to Jason not to be so rough with Tim and Duke before going on. “For instance, if someone asked me about my books, I’d never shut up.”

“But…” Dick paused to think. “Well, okay, I guess.”

Slowly, the boy got up and made his way over to Barbara’s group. She smiled upon seeing him approach and immediately invited him to join. Smiling, you told Mr. Wayne that you knew everything would turn out.

After a few minutes of silence, Bruce finally asked, “I never took you as much of a reader.”

“Oh, yeah,” You said with a bright smile. “I would say I read about as much as Jason, but I think he might have me beat.”

Bruce chuckled. “If reading ever becomes a job, I think Jay would be ten times richer than me...You’re always welcome to the books in the library at home, you know.”

You smiled kindly at Mr. Wayne. “I do now. Thank you.”

“Well, I think a majority of them are law and medical books, but it never hurts to brush up on your STEM knowledge.”

You laughed a little and adjusted Damian on your lap. “Oh, I’d say the books I read are a little medical.”

“What do you read then?”

You smiled before turning back to the kids, and he began to wonder if what you said had a little mischievous double meaning. Bruce stared at you, trying to find something to say, either about books or just about you, but couldn’t find the right question. Finally, he settled on just suggesting that, after the park, maybe they could all go to the bookstore. You agreed heavily, thinking that Jason and the rest of the kids would enjoy it.

“You can get something, too, if you like,” Bruce offered. “I think we can fit it into the budget.”

You laughed a little too hard at the joke, not having anticipated it from Mr. Wayne of all people. “I mean, if we can squeeze two pennies together then why not!”

“But, you do want to go?”

“Of course, I’d do anything for a free book,” You said with a playful wink.

Bruce chuckled as he looked back at his kids, thinking that just maybe there was a bit of weight in your advice.

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apocalypse-shuffle · 3 months ago

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JASON TODD | RED HOOD (generalized fanon | maybe wfa)

—

“Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow” (Jason Todd x Fem!Reader)

| Jason and you need to talk, the incident with Robin hanging over your necks like a relationship guillotine, but days later Jason’s realizing that shit is easier said than done.

| SFW, pre-established relationship, secret identity, reader’s hair is long enough to go into cornrows

| pic source: right= Batman Annual #25, middle= Red Hood: The Lost Days, and end= Batman: Under The Red Hood • all comics

| part of the meet the bats series

| 1k+ words

It’s been three days.

Three days of them easing around one another. Of this awkward balance of you not knowing how to best broach the topic and Jason knowing that but being too tense to push. For the last three days he’s been actively fighting the need to cut and run until it was silently agreed upon that you’d both just ignore that night and the appearance of Robin entirely.

That’s what you’re both doing right now actually.

Rarely, in your case, there’s nothing filling the silence around you. No music, no podcast, you yourself aren’t even cutting through the silence with your own voice. The only sounds between the two of you are the drone of the stove vent, the clicking of the oven, and the knife in Jason’s hand clinking against the wooden cutting board he’d gotten you last year as a housewarming gift; the sound of it knocking through his head like a taunt with every cut.

You’re keeping to yourselves in your little corners of the kitchen, a crude facsimile of your usual laughter-filled Sunday Dinner prep.

“Can you chop the parsley for me now, Jay?”

Jason hums and moves to fulfill the request, barely moving an inch to where the wicker produce basket is chilling on the counter and grabbing the herb.

He chops it all in under a minute and turns to swipe the hand full or so from the board to the bowl of ricotta, shredded mozzarella, and seasonings you’re mixing but when you turn to him his brain stalls a bit.

It’s not like he hasn’t seen you before now. This was your place and you’d greeted him at the door, but even the way you’d said ‘hi’ to each other had felt weighted. There’d been a slew of unsaid emotions locked behind both of your words but apparently catching sight of you now - slightly frizzy week old cornrows and a smear of hastily wiped tomato sauce on your cheek - is what finally unlocks his jaw.

You hold the bowl out for him to scrape the parsley in, not looking at him as you talk; your eyes, instead, on the stove top.

“I need you to taste the sauce before I add the ground beef, it’s kinda sour—”

“—Did you mean it?”

When you pause to blink over at him he finally remembers to scrape the parsley in.

“What?” Your face screws up before your head shakes. You put the bowl down on the counter behind you so you can cross your arms.

He does the same with his board, clearing his throat.

“That love and trust stuff you said the other night? That wasn’t just some shock induced rambling, right?”

The way you purse your lips bellies your frustration, but whatever his face is doing ultimately make you sigh.

“Yes, I meant it.”

He nods, doing a horrible job of looking like he’s not on the verge of bolting going off of the stare you’re pinning him with.

“Great,” he murmurs. He shifts, crossing his arms himself and leaning back against the counter. “I meant it when I said ‘love you too’…by the way.”

In response all you do is stare. Jason figures that’s fair and stays still under your scrutiny.

A minute of silence passes, only broken when you laugh a little and Jason can’t help but scoff at himself too.

“Fuck, you’re a mess.” You sigh, “I know, Jason. You wouldn’t’ve said it the first time if you didn’t mean it.” You raise your hand to make a so-so motion. “Run away maybe, but, you know?”

“Sorry,” he offers.

You shrug.

“Uh huh. So we talking about the Robin little brother thing now or…?”

“No, we can talk,” he cracks his neck, “You do deserve to know after everything with Dami and his sword.”

You cringe suddenly and Jason can guess why; waking with a sword to your throat will do that to you.

“I do, don’t I?”

“Hn,” Jason chuckles, but when he holds his hand out to you he’s holding his breath.

For a moment he’s really worried you’ll stare at his hand like it’s some kind of venomous snake and blow him off - he’s been distant, he gets it - but you only hesitate for a second before slipping your darker hand into his.

After that it’s a whole lot easier for you two to gravitate towards each other, colliding like two uncoordinated magnets in your haste.

Jason just holds you after that. Let’s the balm that’s rubbing his cheek against your soft hair and feeling your breathing so close with your arms around his shoulders wash over him as one of you slowly works y’all into a sway.

“The next time one of these things happen it cannot take three days for me to get an explanation, Jay.” Slowly one of your hands runs down his arm till you can tap the back of his hand, immediately he turns it over for you.

“I know,” he murmurs, “I’ll work on the confrontation thing.”

Your hand fits perfectly into his and squeezes once your fingers lace.

“You do that.” You press a kiss into his shoulder, drawing a low hum from him, and he can feel you smile against him before you continue. “I will also try making it more clear to you that I’m open to talk to, okay?”

“Yeah,” Jason agrees, pulling you closer and wrapping you tighter in his arms. He tenses up a little. “Is the stove—?”

“Stove’s good,” you squeeze his hand, “the lasagna noodles are still boiling so you’ve got a good eight minutes.”

You look up to smile at him - only somewhat strained - and Jason goes in for a short kiss. You’d said you weren’t going anywhere but he knows how overwhelming this whole thing can be.

“Alright, but you gotta promise not to freak,” he stresses.

You nod.

“Okay,” he clears his throat and makes sure to very carefully look into your eyes. “Most of my…’family’ are vigilantes. Including me.”

He leaves out the ‘sort of’ that he feels the need to tact on to the end of that sentence. He’s heaping a lot onto you as is and it wasn’t like you weren’t around when he first wreaked havoc on Bruce and overhauled Gotham’s criminal underbelly. He doesn’t regret it exactly, but it was still a point of contention.

“Right,” you nod before pausing. The way you look at him, mouth dropping open with a mixture of awe and something apprehensive, isn’t promising. “You’re not…Batman are you? Or one of them?”

Jason’s familiar with the theories that Gothamites make up about them - it came with the territory - but the way you dropped your voice to whisper that last question throws him. He would’ve never guessed you were such a conspiracist. Let alone a multiple Batmen truther. The theory wasn’t exactly wrong, but it certainly didn’t get the majority of the cowl switches correct.

He starts to laugh, only quelled after a slew of moments by the scowl that flashes across your face.

“No,” he chuckles. He wasn’t in the cowl for long at least. The grin he throws you manages to thaw that scowl at least a bit. “And thank god for small mercies.”

“Ah,” you tilt your head, “well - I mean as long as you’re not a rogue or like the Red Hood or anything then it’s not like it’s the end of the world,” you giggle to yourself.

Jason falls silent

When you look back to him, noticing the way he’s half cringing, your eyes widen and your mouth drops open.

“Shut the fuck up!” The beginnings of what might be a grin curve the surprised ‘o’ shape of your mouth as you take a step back. “You’re lying!”

Your eyes stay wide and your mouth fully forms into a wide grin. You smack him on the arm. Jason fights not to make a displeased sound at you taking your warmth away.

“You’re fucking lying— wait!” Your hands come up to frame your face. “Oh my god. What- what does this mean for our relationship?”

A sting goes straight up his spine and Jason surges forward to wrap his hands around your wrists, shaking his head.

“Nothing hopefully,” he says, “this doesn’t have to change anything if you don’t want it to. I’m still me, you’ll just be privy to a bit more of the inner workings of Gotham, but nothing crazy or too dangerous.” He grimaces. “The last thing I want is to endanger you.”

“Hold on. No, Jay, that’s not what I meant. I promise you this isn’t a deal breaker. Just…” you move to wave your hand still in his loose grip towards the sliding doors, indicating the rest of the city, “…I have something of a standing complaint with the Red Hood for blowing up my favorite bagel shop.”

“Oh?” He practically goes limp against you, letting go of your wrists after kissing the juncture of both to wrap his arms back around you. One corner of his mouth curls up. “Would you like to file a formal complaint?”

“I would, actually.”

He snorts, “In my defense it was a drug front for a group who was conspiring against me.”

You cast him a contemplative look before letting out a wistful sigh.

“Good bagels though.”

Simultaneously the two of you break off into laughter, hanging off of each other before sobering naturally as the timer rings and you’ve got to strain the noodles.

When you’ve got the water drained and are moving to set up the assembly station for the lasagna you throw him a grin.

“For the record, I think you would’ve made a great Batman.”

He laughs goodnaturedly, going over to add a pinch of sugar to the tomato sauce.

“Says you and nobody else but me,” he jokes.

“That’s alright,” you come up to press a kiss to his cheek from the side, using your hip to bump him out the way a little so you can slip one of the towels from the oven handles, “Gotham wouldn’t have been able to handle you, anyway.”

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!

Funnily enough she’s technically meeting the Red Hood in this one to some extent, but I’ll probably write a more costume focused entry later on that is her fully meeting Red Hood similarly to how she meets the other Bats.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

Tagged: @bandshirts-andbooks

#jason todd #red hood #black!reader #black y/n #jason todd x black!reader #•meet the bats (the series)#red hood x black!reader #jason todd x black!fem!reader #jason todd angst #and some #jason todd fluff #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #red hood fluff #red hood angst #x black!reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader

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