#DC reader inster

[watchtower-feed]

Loaded Silence

Anon:  So could you maybe write something where you're a part of the batfam and Bruce is your father figure but you aren't related, and he finds out you have an eating disorder and he's really supportive of you? And just helps you through recovery pretty much? Note: Angst / Mental illness Words: 1,236

     “Y/N, please don’t put your finger down your throat again,” the hard rap of a single knuckle stuns you in the bathroom.

     You can hear his deep breath and the way his voice quivers for a second before he speaks again, “There are other ways, safer ways.”

     Slowly you take out your finger but your mouth stays open and your lips are shaking against your teeth. He’s not supposed to be home. No one was supposed to be home today.

     “Y/N, please,” Bruce’s voice sounds so broken and hurt that you grip the toilet bowl tight to keep yourself from opening the door. “Please come out.”

     You’ve been living with the Wayne family since you left your old life. Your family, school, and friends are all part of your past now and you’ve never looked back on that decision. Because you weren’t just running away from them, but from who you were.

     You didn’t like the person that you were, physically and mentally. Your emotions were of no help either. You were constantly plagued by ideas that you’re not good enough. That you need to be more than you are. And so you tried.

     You tried everything. Everything you never thought you would. Things you knew in the back of your mind were bad but it was such an easy way out that you couldn’t help it.

     You studied hard to get good grades but it ostracized you. So you failed them on purpose and it earned a raised hand hanging in the air as your mother narrowed her eyes with such contempt and disappointment.

     You gussied up and let your hair down but all you got were hands grabbing and pulling. The comfortable clothes were no better at keeping their leers and whistles away.

     In the end, none of it was enough and all that was left to do was run away. From home. From school. From the person in the mirror who was always so sad and angry.

     But after a few days on the street, you ran out of money. You were in a convenient store, desperate for food when Richard caught you tucking a candy bar in your bra. He decided not to turn you in because to him, you didn’t seem like a bad kid.

     No. To him. You seemed like someone who needed help. He told you this and you cried. Your tears spilled onto the eggs and sausages in the diner where he treated you. You still remember the way he looked at you with sadness but relief at the same time. Why was that? Why that look?

     You never got to ask him because you were too busy listening to him tell you about his family in the car, and as soon as you were thrust into the Wayne Manor, you froze up at the sight of so many calculating stares. So many dark-haired individuals standing tall and powerful all in one room. It made you feel small.

     Suddenly, a strong hand gently rested itself on your shoulder. You turned and met eyes with a towering figure in a black suit. His intimidating demeanor was quickly softened by his eyes. Half-lidded and brimming with hope.

     “Welcome.”

     The first weeks were odd at best. Richard doted on you like a helicopter parent while Tim reprimanded him. He doesn’t like that you dropped out of school or that you ran away from home, but he doesn’t ask about your life in the past so how would he know?

     Tim gave you a schedule you had to follow. It was a comprehensive list of things to study, sets for exercises, and allowances for short moments of free time. He also made sure everyone in the manor would keep you from straying from the list. Especially Alfred, who spent half of his days tending to the manor and the other half to its occupants.

     You’ve never known what it was like to have a butler but surprisingly, it was a lot like having a friend and a father at the same time. He watched over you during your study sessions and offered advice even if you didn’t ask, something you never knew you would appreciate. So you thank him always and he smiles. But Damian hates it, always reminding you that he’s just doing his job.

     Next to Alfred, the other person who spends the most time with you was Damian. He was still in school and studied at the same time as you. He found it a lot more useful to study himself when he had to teach you. He found it an actual application of what he deems was a waste of time for someone like him. Other people would say ‘how arrogant’ but you know better because sometimes Tim goes to Damian for answers as well. Much to Jason’s amusement.

     Ah. Jason. Definitely the scariest out of all of them. Like Richard, he doesn’t live in the manor but he always bursts in sporadically. You always found him bleeding, wounded, half-naked, or even completely naked a few times when he does his surprise visits. You don’t really spend much time together but after his visits, you always find a new book on your nightstand, each one always worn out and folded at some corners.

     Cass snickers each time she sees a new book, saying ‘how fast does Jason think you can read’ and then always follows it with ‘with Tim’s schedule I’m surprised you even have time to shower’. You tell her that you had to scribble that in yourself with a red marker just so he’ll remember for next time. You always laugh with Cass or sometimes spend your free time in her room and lay in silence.

     Silence.

     So empty yet daunting.

     No matter how happy you are in the manor, it creeps toward you from the shadows, traveling along the cracks you are yet to mend.

     You never really grasped how enormous the manor really was until everyone is gone for the night. When Alfred is in the cave and there’s just you in the house. Each room that had once been filled with laughter, smiles, and banter were all crammed full of silence.

     Like walls closing in, it suffocates you and pushes down on your lungs. You struggle and heave in breaths but nothing eases the pain because it feels like there’s a heavy stone lodged in your throat. You have to get it out. You have to grab it and--

     “Y/N,” Bruce’s voice breaks through the silence. “Come out for me, please.”

     You don’t want to. You don’t want to be swallowed by the monstrous silence that drags memories of your past with it. You don’t want to get up. But he said it’s not for you. This is for him. And it’s easier when you’re doing it for him, for them, because they matter.

     With shaking knees, you stand up and walk towards the door. As you turn the knob, Bruce stands outside in his whole costume, hands at his side, waiting for you to open the door fully.

     The first thing you search for are his eyes, and even after months of this, they’re still half-lidded and gentle. You reach out and hug him across his chest, your tears staining the kevlar where the bat symbol lies.

     “It’s okay,” he says, voice deep like a declaration, “It’ll get better.”

[watchtower-feed]

My Gift To You

Anon:  I was wondering if you could write an older Damian (maybe in his early twenties) celebrating his s/o's birthday?...  Genre: Fluff. Words: 1,006

           “Damian, please answer your phone,” you mutter into the receiver but it was his answering machine that replied.

           It’s your birthday today and you’ve been getting calls and texts from your friends and family, but none from Damian. You kept your schedule free, hoping he got your message about dinner at your place. He’s been away since last week and you miss him.

           You’re heading home from the store with a brown paper bag of ingredients. You’ve been calling him all day but he’s not picking up. You try to call him again just before you turn the last corner to go back to your place. You stop walking because he finally picks up.

           “Hello. Dami-”

           “Y/N, where are you? You’re not at home.” He sounds agitated.

           “I was buying groceries— wait. How do you know I’m not at home?”

           You hear him click his tongue, “Because I’ve been knocking and no one’s answering.”

           You grin, “You’re at my place?” You’re excited and walk quickly around the corner.

           He sighs, “Yes. I’m here to pick you up. My family insists I bring you home for dinner.”

           You immediately stop in your tracks. Damian just said he was taking you home. To his family. To the Wayne family. The most scandalous and powerful family ever featured in Gotham Gazette. You instinctively want to run but you've already bounded the corner and Damian sees you.

           He grins evilly because he knows exactly what you’re thinking. He talks into the phone, “You can either come peacefully or arrive thrashing on my shoulder.”

           You quirk your lips, “Option two sounds more entertaining.” You see him shake his head and he walks over to you. You continue to talk through the phone, “and it sounds like I get a hug in the process.”

           He smiles down at you. He’s taller than you and much bigger. Throwing you over his shoulder would probably be a piece of cake for him

           Damian leans down and kisses you, “Sample incentive. For the first offer.” He smirks.

           When you arrive in the manor, it was just as big and as intimidating as you thought. There’s a number of heads peering through the window as you walk towards the door. Damian sees them and starts grumbling cusses under his breath while his cheeks flush red, making you smile.

           You suddenly remember all the times when Damian complained about his siblings. The backtalk, the teasing, and the violence. You couldn’t help laughing at times because you’ve never seen Damian look so defeated but there was always some mirth in his eyes when he talked about them.

           Before Damian could turn his key, the door slams open and a barrage of confetti hit Damian in the face. You didn't feel it only because he instinctively moved you behind him before the assault happened.

           “Surprise!”

           You didn't know what to expect but it definitely wasn’t an evening of childhood photos and Damian furiously blushing next to you. After dinner, his brothers and sister immediately took out an album that they've hidden under Dick's seat.

           “—such a brat when he was younger. Like you wouldn’t believe," groaned Jason while Damian squeezed your hand under the table. You give Damian a squeeze back, calming him.

           “Oh look at this, Y/N. This was his first Halloween. Look at the little bat." Dick hands you a picture of Damian when he was 12 years old. You quickly let go of his hand to grab it.

           You coo, “Aww, Damian." You turn to him with wide eyes and furrowed brows, as if asking why he's hidden such a gem from you, "You look so adorable.”

           His siblings watch the two of you carefully, wondering how Damian would react to being doted on. But Damian just smiles at you and grins, "I'm always adorable." His siblings gape.

           “Jason, did you see tha-”

           “We all saw it, Dick.”

           “Maybe it’s a Christmas miracle, Cass.”

           “It’s not Christmas, Tim.”

           “Everyone, please. It’s the first time Master Damian has brought home a girl and I wish to see them visit again in the future.”

           “Father,” Damian's voice steals all the attention in the room. Bruce has been sitting in the center, listening to his children. You all watch them and there seems to be an understanding between them. “May I?”

           “Of course, Damian." Bruce watches Damian lead you off the couch. "It was nice meeting you, Y/N.” You return the gesture and let Damian carry you off into the study.

           “Where are we going, Damian?”

           “To your gift.”

           “Oh ok— Wait what? I said where.." Your eyes widen, "I don't want an island, Damian."

           Damian just smirks at you as he opens the face of a grandfather clock and shows you a secret staircase. You find yourself in the cave with Damian. But it wasn’t just a cave. It was the Batcave.

           “Please, tell me you’re not giving me Batman for my birthday.”

           Damian smirks at that, “In some sort of manner, I guess I am.” You raise your eyebrows in question. “Y/N, I am Batman.”

           You stare at him for half a minute before you burst out laughing, “Oh, you almost got me.” Damian purses his lips and frowns, making you cease your laughing, “Oh, you’re serious.” You immediately turn to all corners of the cave, “you really are Batman?”

           Damian straightens himself and takes your hands in his, “Y/N. This is my gift to you. My secret. My family’s secret... Because I trust you and you deserve to know.”

           You gulp. This is a big secret. A very dangerous secret. Damian squeezes your hands and smiles at you as if telling you not to worry. He always can tell what you’re thinking.

           You take a deep breath and smile at him, “Dami, thank you.” You stand on your toes and kiss him. "This is crazy, and I  probably still don't believe you," he laughs at that, "but this means a lot."

           He leans down for another kiss, “Happy birthday, Y/N.”

           You smile against his lips, “You finally said it.”

A/N: Happy Birthday! I hope this isn’t too late, and too haste. I tried to finish it faster.