#and the family is looking to bruce. because what did you do.

[kenwio]

Joker's kid! reader and how they life in manor started

Author's note 1: This part is huge, and it was a huge struggle for me to write (and rewrite), so I apologize if it feels crumpled T^T and there will be other author's notes

Warnings: long read, grammar mistakes (English is not my first language), mental issues, abuse

Bruce knew that eventually you will leave the madbay, you were there long enough to heal, but he had no idea how to bring you to the manor and he can't predict your reaction, seeing your reaction of everything in medbay, your confusion and fear that you showed looking at the simplest things. But other things concerned him even more.

Firstly, he knew that taking you to manor would include revealing of his identity to you, and identities of rest of the family. Secondly, the family.... he was worried about how they would react on you being there. So far, non of the kids interacted with you, and only Dick visited you while you were in the medbay, but he never saw you awake, thanks for the side effects of medicine that made you incredibly sleepy. And thirdly, you were a child of a villain, who knows what you are capable of? So what if you seemed harmless in the madbay? Plus, Bruce knew Tim and Jay expected only bad for you and Damians opinion of you was as bad if not worse somehow. Bruce knows it's going to be tough and he is not sure he can deal with it

Today was the day he would let you see his face and lead you up to the mansion. So, why did the world greatest detective was feeling icky? Was he afraid of you? No, you are just a kid, yes Joker's kid, but still a kid. Was he afraid your potential reaction? Not really, but he was troubled that he could predict it.

Maybe you didn't really show emotions, which was concerning, but also was made him feel more at ease, since you didn't show any signs of acting like your father.

You were sitting at your bed in medaby staring at your blurred reflection in the mirror. You couldn't clearly see yourself, but you were sure you looked a bit different and the clothes you were wearing now, simple t-shirt and pants, were much more comy and much more suited for a child, unlike that horrible suit.

- Hey, little one, how are you feeling? - he asked with strained gentleness

- I'm okay - you answered simply

- Since you are mostly recovered you will have to leave the medbay - he started saying. You were expecting something like that to happend, because why would he let you stick around? He alredy done much for you. As you were staying in the medbay you remember that Batman had a rule - a rule of not killing. Maybe that's why he helped you and healed you up, he probably just didn't want to let you die. You knew your father wouldn't really care of something happened to you, and he wouldn't even avange you, because why would he? You are just a pawn and he has bigger cards to cards to care about.

- So you will bring me back? -you asked, simply, which shoked Batman. You just now simply and dully asked him if he will bring you back to the crime alley ? How? Why? He felt his heart stinging at your emotionless reaction.

- No, I want to give you your new home

- New home? - you asked, confused. What did he meant by that?

- Yes. You will live with me, Alfred, and my sons. - he said calmly, looking at you, studying your reaction, he moved his hands closer to his mask. - that means you will know who I'm, and who are my allies are, which brings me to the point, before we could go to your new home, you must learn few rules, you understand right? - you only nodded in response. You were really confused. Why he wants you to live with you? Why is he okay with it? What was his reasoning?

The rules included: do not reveal our dentities to anyone, no wepons, no sharp object, no violence, no disobedience, mandatory emotional check-ins, mandatory seek of help when you need it, respect of boundaries and few other. You listened carefully when he explained every rule, trying to remember every detail, but you couldn't really understand that all. And you didn't really understood what will happened if you break the rule, but you didn't wanted to take chances.

After he explained the rules and you nodded to confirm you got the idea, he finally took his mask, and his face seemed to be familiar, and after few sections of thinking you said

- Oh, you are a man from newspapers - you remember seeing his face on some of the newspapers you used as blankets back in the crime alley.

- So I guess you know me? And you know my name - he asked, a bit confused by your reaction and use of wording

- uh.. I saw you, I don't really who you are - and it was true, you may saw him on newspapers, but you didn't really read them, there was too much words you didn't understand

- My name is Bruce Wayne, you can just call me Bruce. And since I introduced myself, it's time for you to introduce yourself too - he gave you a slight, gentle smile, encouraging you to speak up

- my name is (your name)

- Follow me, (your name)

So now you were following Bat...uh Bruce into various corridors of ... giant house? Castle? You didn't really know, but it was. You looked around, trying to take in at least some of the surroundings, but it was too much for you to remember. All you could say, the place was really luxurious... really like a castle, like one you saw in story book you manage to found one day.

Finally you arrived at the corridors there you assumed lived residents of the place. If you understood correctly while listening to Bruce, here manor two of his sons lived permanent: Tim and Damian, and two others, Richard and Jason, occasionally payed a visit. As you looked around corridor, you suddenly heard unfamiliar voice

- Father, you really decided to let them live here? - that voice sounded annoyed and angry

- Damian, we've talked about it - answered Bruce. You looked to father and son, who started conversation, taking in the appearance of short boy with spiky hair, and bright green eyes. So this is Damian.... as you looked at him, you noticed that his angry gaze never leaving you. His cold anger mixed with with annoyance made you visibly flinched.

- and I still stand my words, they are dangerous - young boy said, walking past his father, stopping in front of you - I was raised by assassins, don't think I won't see through your games - he said closing walking in his room and closing his door. You looked at him go, you expected this kind of greeting.

- Damian can be a little hostile at first- Bruce tried to soften up the atmosphere Damian created

- oh, it's fine, I understand -you answered calmly.

- so, most of those rooms are free so, feel free to chose one.

You walked through the corridor, checking if the room was taken or not, and you stopped at the far away room in the end for the corridor. Knowing that you would probably annoy others with your existence in the manor, you decided to choose exactly this room. You understood that your life here depended on how Batman, or how he told to call him Bruce, and his sons, and if you wanted to live peacefully you needed to try hard and not make him angry.

Bruce wanted to encourage you to take a room closer to others, but decided not to, so he would not discourage you

As you and and him walked in, you couldnt stop looking around. You would be living here now, and it felt like a dream.

- if you need anything call Alfred, and if you need me, just say so to him. - said Bruce as he left you to settle down. You looked around, taking in a surroundings by a bit empty previous guest room that just became yours. You sat down on the bed, feeling it's softness. You were still a confused, you felt fear as always, but also there was something else in the mix of your feelings, something much more lighter.

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In the morning you was woken up by the rays of sun. You didn't figured out how to close the curtains. Previously you didn't feel like going to dinner, so Alfred brought you sandwiches in your room so you at least could have a bite.

You looked out if the window, seeing beautiful geen garden. The sight was new to you, who grew up in the surroundings of dirty bricks and broken concrete. You watched sky, which looked more clear than in crime alley, clouds, birds, trees. It felt surreal, and it made this light feeling in your chest become stronger.

Alfred knocked soon after, he reminded you to wash your face and brush your teeth (something old butler had to explain you how to do) and said that he would lead you to the dining room.

Damian was already there, he tensed up once he saw you. You sat far away from him, sinking in your chair under his gaze.

Soon after you heard yawning coming form the way you've just walked in.

-Morning, Dams, morning Alfred - you heard the sleepy voice say - B left already?

- yes, master Tim - said the old butler putting coffee on place on the table near Damian's one.

- Drake - Damian said through teeth

- oh, look someon in a bad mood since morning, how - the boy sat down, suddenly stopping when he noticed you. He looked at you, not a word leaving him as he quietly staredat you for a few seconds with unreadable expression. Not knowing you decided at least to try to make the situation more strange

- hello? - you mumbled. And he just nodded. His gaze lingered a bit longer on your hair, before he looked away, looking visible uncomfortable. Alfred served the food soon after. It was one of the most tasty things you've ever ate, even if you could feel tension in the air that could be cut with the knife.

After Alfred was lead you back to your room and Bruce made a quick check up on you few hours latter you were left alone. You didn't really had anything to do: the books that were in the room were a bit difficult for you, and you didn't really had an idea what to do with crayons, because all the paintings that came in your mind were ones that were present on your father's "show scene". As you were loking at the window, you heard a sudden knock on your room's door. You turned around, awaiting too see an old butler, but was greeted with the sight of tall young man with wavy black hair, blue eyes, and slightly akward but nonetheless friendly simile.

- Hey, little one - he greeted - what are you up to.

- Hello - you mumbled rather shyly, looking at the window, when back at him.

- Oh, good-old window watching huh - you nodded, soon after adding

- You are?

- Right, I'm Dick, and what's your name?

- (your name)

- Nice to meat you. So, how are you here so far - he tried to striked up the conversation, before you heard familiar annoyed voice of Damian

- Grayson, I require your presence, now!

- Dami, just a minute - he answered

- now! - Damian repeated

Richard gave you an apologetic look - sorry, gotta go, but I would like to hang around you next time, if you Don't mind.

-I do not mind - you mumbled as you watched him left. The way he talked to you was unusual for you. It reminded the way how Bruce or Alfred talked with you, but it was warmer. It made that light feeling in your chest stronger for a bit, until it was taken away. It was strange to be talked with like that, but it was nice. Suddenly, you couldn't help but wish but to be talked with like that more.

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As day went by, you started slowly getting used to the life in here and rutine. You mostly spend your time around Alfred, following him as if you were a little ducking. He helped you around, explained how to do one or other things, helped you to find books you could read through, also old butler introduced to tw, but you quickly found out that cartoons were a bit much to you, so insted you settled on nature documentaries.

So here you were in the living room watching about life of animals in tropical jungle, when you heard heavy footsteps behind door, after that you hears how doors were heavily pushed open, you turned around, and saw tall and built tall and muscular guy, with short black hair with few white strands on them and book in his hands. Judging by his looks and what Alfeed told you so far you guessed it was Jason. Though, he seemed somehow familiar to you, yet you couldn't understand why...

- hello - you mumbled, looking at him.

He instantly frowned, you could see the same expression of anger on his face, the one you noticed on Damian constantly.

- what, old man really had his sanity kicked out? - he grumbled.

You were unsure of how to react, what to do. On one hand you could clearly see that Jason was mad at you the same way Damin were, so the plan was ether to hide in your room, or to stay quiet. On the other hand, even if you really didn't understand how to interact with others, in a short time you've been in the manor Alfred told you some basics of social interactions and politeness, one of which was to iniciate conversions, which made you want to give it a go.

- I just found out that some animals pretend to be dead so they wouldn't become a prey - you mumbled quietly, you really just learned that fact so you decided to share it. But it.your words seemed to make Jason even more mad.

- tsk, I see you, little psycho, are not so different from your crazy Dad - he spat out angrily, leaving you feeling down. You weren't like your dad, were you?

- I uh - you struggled to say, but you couldn't form your thought. What to answer to that? You weren't sure.

- don't even try, I don't like clowns -he spat out. Before you could say anything or he could continue saying things that left you sad, Alfred walked in.

- Master Jason, master Bruce awaits you in a batcave

- thanks - he said as he walked out, leaning you alone with your confusion and sadness, or so it was until you heard Alfred's cautious voice

- Master (your name)? Are you feeling alright? You seem to be a in your thoughts.

- I'm okay - you answered immediately, not wanting to worry old butler

- I see. - he answered, a bit thoughtfully, before speaking again - would you like to have some tea with cookies? - you nodded eagerly, remembering their sweet taste -when follow me to the kitchen

While you were enjoying tea with cookies, and looking how Alfred was busy preparing lunch, cutting greens with cooking scissors and chopping vegetables. He done this all fast and gracefully, leaving you amazed by his skills. In the middle of him cutting yet another green leaf, Alfeed was asked to go down to the cave by Jason, who walked away immediately after. Old butler put scissors near the edge of counter, and asked you if you knew how to get back to your room, before leaving. You just finished eating last cookie, when you heard metallic ring of fallen scissors. You walked to pick them up, but seeing your blurred reflection in them gave you an idea difference of original idea. Now you were on the way in your room.

Honestly speaking, you understood why your father was hated in this house, and you could understand why they hated you too, Joker is your dad after all, but you didn't like him to. In fact, he only brought you suffering. And you knew there wasn't a way to undone it,

But there is one thing you could do.

You walked in your room, I'm your bathroom, and in mirror you saw that one thing that reminded you of your father's the most. Your damaged green hair. Although while you were staying here, your hair grew longer and you could see your original color of hair, but green was still there and you hated longer green parts of your hair, his parts of your hair. Damian, Jason and Tim probably hated them too.

Chop.

You started cutting the green parts, leaving only strands of YOUR hair. It took awhile, it was hard. But few minutes after you were without them, and with fluffy uneven mess of a haircut on your head.

Putting all your green hair in a trash, you hurried back to kitchen. To your surprise, Alfred wasn't there yet. You put scissors in the sink, and returned to your tea, happy thay now you didn't had reminder of your dad on your head.

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After your sudden haircut, scolding, and another, but more professional haircut latter, Alfred decided to keep an eye on you. He had to admit that your desire to show difference form your dad finally made him warm up to you. But he was even more surprised when you said that you wanted to help him with tasks around the house and managing requests of boys and Bruce. Bruce found it a welcome change, but not all boys agreed with him

Which leads you to the present moment, you were cautiously carrying tray with coffee and snacks for Tim, since he skipped lunch yet again making Alfred worried yet again, when you were walking past Damian.To avoid him, you took a little to the other side, almost kicking off some sort of sculpture, which he caught, stopping in front of you, glaring at you

- Tt... use your eyes when you are going anywhere, pay attention - he grunted.

- I'm sorry - you said calmly, - cool move by the way - you said in attempt to soften the move

- I wasn't asking for your opinion. - he said, glaring at you one more time and saying - One false move and you'll find yourself dismantled faster than these figurines could hit the ground. Touch anything else in Father's collection, and you'll be practice dummy for my katana.

You tried not to flinch at Damian words, but did so anyways. It took you few minutes to calm down and continue your way towards Tim's room. You prepared to knock, but door was slightly agape.

- Tim? - you called, imitating Alfreds tone of voice. You saw how his hand gestured you to come in, so you did. You placed tray with coffee and snacks on his table. He glanced at you only for a second, before his eyes returned to the screen of his laptop, in that moment some sort of text appeared there, making him jolt, put laptop down and run away. You just stood there, not knowing what to do, you looked between door from which he left, and screen of his computer device, when another text appeared on it, and this time you could read it - "low battery. connect the charger"

Thanks to Alfred, you already knew what charger is, you just have to find it! You looked around, seeing too many wires around the room. You looked at the laptop, and saw too many ports. As you were unsuccessfully trying to find the right wire and right port, laptop's screen went dark. In that moment Tim walked in.

- What did you do?! - he asked almost yelling. Immediately going to the laptop

Nothing! - you panicked, and stepped away. He raised a hand and wave it. Not noticing yor flinch.

- just go, go away! You are messing all up!

If you thought you were shaky after encounter with Damian, this one definitely did.

Judging by Tim's reaction, you broke his computer. You didn't mean to, and you didn't knew if anyone will believe you that you didn't mean to do so. Maybe you'll need to apologize later, but right now, all you wanted is to talk with Alfred or to use up Bruces offer and talk with him if you needed it. In the state of panick you must have took the wrong turn, and bot seeing clearly before yourself, you bumped into Jason, after what you was pushed back and fell down in the process.

- you, little psycho! Don't you dare to touch me! - he yelled, making you flinch. For a second you felt like you was back with your father, pushed around, beaten and yelled at. As you were processing what happened, you didn't hear soft footsteps,

Jay, it was an accident. They just didn't not you - said Richard, trying to calm Jason down -yes, little one? - he said turning to you, but you were already running back to your room.

You cruled up in your blanket, hiding from the world and trying to calm down. You felt like crying. You probably did cry. It was all your fault. You almost broke figurine from Bruces collection, you probably broke Tim's computer, and you made Jason angry, so , Dick too was probably angry at you. Why had you just break thing, make everything worse. Maybe you should talk to Bruce.

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You didn't even notice how you feel asleep for a short time, but when you woke up, you decided to see Bruce, if anyone, he should know how to get allong with boys. And that's what you really wanted, to get along with them, just to feel safe.

The problem however was to find Bruce. You remember Bruce showing you where his cabinet and room was, however, you don't remember where exactly they are. You managed to find Alfred, who gave you a concerned look, but explained you where he was. He also said that all of them were having a movie night - Richard decided that everyone needed at least one bounding day a month, where all of them would gather and do something together. That got you a bit worried, because what if you ruin their movie night just like how you ruined everything today. But maybe you could apologize in front of everyone for being inconvenience and making them angry? You'll have to brace yourself . While thinking about it, you walked through various corridors, until you reached movie room.

There they were: While movie were playing on a big screen they sat on cozy sofa and armchairs. Bruce sat in the armchair, occasionally looking on the boys. You could see smile on his face. Dick sat in the middle of the sofa, watching with enthusiasm and actively commenting on the plot, eating popcorn. On one side if him, putting his head on Dick's shoulder, sat Tim, who was lazily laying on sofa. He sometimes corrected Dick or commented on CGI, whatever it is. On the other side of the Dick sat Damian, who tried to make an impression that he didn't like being here, yet even you could see through his act, and who tried to keep Tim's and Jason's hands away from popcorn. And near Tim, in the corner of sofa sat Jason, who teased Damian and Tim most of the time, argued with Dick on which character is better and successfully stole Dick's popcorn.

You've never seen a sight, that was as warm as this. It felt so warm, so cozy, so homy

It felt like family.

And here you were: in the shadow, not daring to make a step, to come in to join them, to afraid to ruin this perfect moment

You've never had a family in that sense of word, and what you had as a family, you wouldn't dare to call as such. In your family was no warmth, no care. There weren't a moment like this. But you needed them.

After you were taken in my Bruce you found out what care was, but even so it felt like it still was too far away from you, so far that you couldn't reach it. Maybe you didn't deserve it, but you wanted care you wanted love. You wished you could be a part of family you see right now. You want to come in. But you know you can't, you know you will ruin the moment if you will walk in now. You know that Damian will add another threat to a previous one, Jason will yell, Tim will shoosh away, and probably Dick and Bruce will silently agree with them and will say to you to come another time.

Your father is Joker, that's instantly makes you undeserving of care and attention. Well, whay to say if your own mother left you. And as for the batfamily, it's only natural to hate a child of their main enemy.

But what if you can prove you are not like your father? What if love and care are earned, and that's exactly why you didn't get them. When you will have to try and earn it. But for now, all you could do now, is to hide behind the door in another room, listen intently on every sound they make, cry silently, afraid of making any noise so you couldn't ruin the moment and wish you could be with them. Wish you was loved at least once in your life. Wish you were a part of their family.

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Thank you for reading and feel free to share your opinion 💖 have a good day

Author's note 2: I really badly wanna draw Joker's kid. I'd you are interested in my artworks , please let me know

Author's note 3: (1) In one of anonymous asks (here) one user had similar idea of what I had in mind. I hope I've done it good > - < (2) And I wanted to fit this idea from another ask (here) in the plot to, but I couldn't done it fully, I'm sorry T^T

Author's note 4 : to be honest, I have no idea what is tag list and how it works (I'm really sorry, but I'm not active social-media user), but few amazing people asked to tag them, and i hope I'm doing it right: @socially-embarrassing , @leovergurl , @deathbynarcisstick , @cryptic-arr0w , @lynns-cornerr

[writing-flower]

“ Between life and death, death is tempting ”

First act: “From the roots”

Prologue: “Happy fifteenth birthday! (Again?)”

WARNING: Mention of blood and death.

My memory had never been the best, it was good, but not exceptional. Nothing out of this world.

I wasn't as smart as Damian or Tim, I wasn't as strong as Jason or Dick, nor was I as sharp as Bruce Wayne.

I wasn't exceptional, but I was good, but not good enough for them. For him.

God, I was so focused on getting his attention, playing sports, try to pass every subject with the highest grade, join any club like debate or math.

Anything, but all that never leads to anything.

Well, almost nothing, everything I did only caused Damian to see me as a desperate for attention, which, he wasn't wrong.

But still, it didn't make it hurt any less, every insult, malicious insinuation even the occasional threat flying through the air, each one was the result of three years of trying to get someone to look at me.

Sometimes that attention only appeared with Dick, on the few times that he came to visit and came across a scene of me with Damian, He immediately stopped him.

Forcing him to apologize, spoiler, he never apologized.

The first time it happened I thought that my attempts had finally yielded good results, but no, I dare say this was worse.

As if he gave me hope and then suddenly he snatches it away without any fanfare.

Oh wait, that's literally what happened.

And about the others, I didn't even have the chance to talk to them, simply because I was already tired and also because if Damian continued he would have more reasons to screw me.

And let's face it, nobody wants to feed the wolf because you know it bites.

In this case, the bird.

It didn't help that almost the entire family was going on patrol, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't interested in being part of that, but then I remember Jason...I immediately got that idea out of my mind.

Mm, but if I stop to think, or rather, remember, another thing that I learned in my attempts to get my family's attention, I fell in love with dance.

It was the only class that I didn't drop like the others, I genuinely loved it.

Once in her class, the teacher made us all dance with large, long, and thin fabrics. She made us dance what we wanted, in her words: “Dance as if you were free”.

My companions danced with joy, I just stayed silent for a few moments watching them without knowing how to start.

But then I sighed to close my eyes, letting my body move as it wanted.

“Dance as if you were free” I thought, I started to imagine the music in my head. It was nice, I love it.

I went from knowing what the hell to do to starting to laugh with my classmates, I turned around and then curtsied, feeling how almost all the fabric covered my body.

I open my eyes and see my entire audience applauding, not just me, but also the rest of the dancers.

As soon as I turned eighteen I followed my teacher's advice. I didn't do it before because I was a minor, I needed my tutor's permission and blah blah blah...

Contact with my family at this point was zero, except for the new member, Duke, a sweet and kind boy.

Just looking at him made prayers come to mind for Bruce.

“If you let this kid end up like Jason, I’ll take care of throwing the Joker at you myself, you unhappy idiot.” I was thinking but also listening as Duke energetically told me what his first patrol had been like.

I used to have a certain respect for Bruce, I mean, he's Batman and he does everything in his power to make sure Gotham isn't in such a shitty place.

But then I remember that he keeps adopting children as if they were dogs to give them "A better life" by turning them into human weapons.

Sooooo, yeah, I wish that every day he wakes up with a backache and a headache.

"[Name]"

"Yes dear?" Through the mirror I watched Duke looking at me hopefully as I put on my makeup for the upcoming performance in an hour.

Oh no, I already know what he's going to ask.

"Why do you never come to the mansion?" God, I swear he does that look on purpose, brat.

I sigh as I turn around to look at him.

"You already know my answer, I have no reason to do it and I don't want to either." I said as I turned back to the mirror to continue.

"Yes! I know, but why exactly don't you want to?"

A silence reigned in the room, putting on my makeup but at the same time thinking about what to answer him.

As much as I resent the Waynes, they didn't do anything to Duke, until now, they treat him as he deserves and the last thing I want is to plant that seed of hatred towards them in Duke.

Because I know him, as soon as I tell him what my childhood was like in that mansion and those responsible, the first thing he will do is complain.

And at this point in my life I don't want any unnecessary drama with them.

I lowered the lipstick and looked at him.

"I never liked being in that mansion, since I was little I was always afraid of those giant, dark hallways, and I still am."

Duke stared at me in bewilderment. "Is that the only reason you don't want to come to the mansion?"

I nodded. "It sounds stupid, I know, but every time I walk down those halls it brings back bad memories."

That wasn't a lie.

Duke was silent for a few moments before coming up to me and hugging me.

"Aww, honey you are such a sweetheart sometimes."

"Sometimes?"

"Yeah, because you can be a brat sometimes too." I laughed as I ruffled Duke's hair until it was disheveled.

"A white lie won't hurt anyone." I thought while Duke laughed and tried to pull my hand out of his hair.

Without realizing it, it was already time to start. I said goodbye to Duke, telling him to go back to the mansion, but he insisted on staying.

Something I allowed, GOD, I should have begged him not to do it.

Because from one moment to the next while I was dancing, all the lights went out and when they came back on I felt like blood was flooding my mouth, like everyone was screaming in fear.

What happened? Why am I bleeding?

Duke, he was next to me trying to keep me awake, to not close my eyes.

It got to the point where I couldn't hear anything he was saying, it was complicated while I felt like a part of my body was bleeding non-stop.

I hate to see him cry, please look away... leave me here.

Please...

I don't want the last thing I see to be you crying...

Please...

She opened her eyes calmly and confusedly, all she could hear was the ringing in her ears. She thought she was in a hospital because of the light.

But when her vision stopped blurring, she realized that the light was not from a hospital spotlight, but from the skylight in the wooden ceiling.

"Wait...Skylight?" She muttered, feeling her voice raspy and her throat sore.

The bed wasn't that soft, it was really hard and uncomfortable but still [Name] didn't want to get up, after almost dying...

[Name] sat up in bed right away.

"I ALMOST DIE!" She literally jumped out of bed and ran to the closet to get her clothes.

She needed to see how Duke was doing, his desperate face and the way he held back the urge to cry and couldn't, broke her heart.

But it was when she pulled out a t-shirt that she realized.

"This isn't my size..." Confused, [Name] walked over to the mirror.

If Duke broke her heart, now she's literally having a heart attack.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?" [Name] could swear that any living thing that was near her would have run away in less time than it takes a rooster to crow.

She touched her face carefully, as if it would disappear or break if she touched it hard, this is so weird...a woman in her late twenties trapped in her fifteen year old self, god, what a hell.

[Name] She stepped back without taking her eyes off the mirror while she sat back down on her bed.

On the other side of the door, she heard someone knocking on it two or three times. Accompanied by a soft but direct voice calling her name.

"Miss [Name]"

[Name] immediately turned around to stare at the door, for a few short moments no one said anything, there was only silence.

"Are you okay? You didn't come down to breakfast. That's not something usual for you." Alfred said once he got no response from her.

"Yeah, I'm fine Alfred...I just stayed up late last night that's all..." She didn't know what to say, obviously it wasn't okay, but she didn't want any more problems in her head, she just wanted to focus on the main problem.

She literally just got younger, which would be a good thing if it weren't for the fact that she also came back to this damn mansion.

"Okay, miss, I'll be waiting for you with your breakfast, you need to eat something before you start the day." [Name] was about to reply until Alfred stepped in. "Also, Happy Birthday Miss."

She didn't say anything, she didn't want to.

Alfred walked away from the door, [Name] could hear his footsteps moving away through the hallways and down the stairs.

"Was it always this quiet?" She muttered in her mind as she turned her gaze back to the mirror.

She thought about her life before coming back here, it wasn't good, she didn't earn much from dancing, but... it was her life, a life that took her time to perfect.

And now, I go back to the beginning? Shit, no.

"Alive or dead, I don't care, either way I'm getting out of here..." She said with some frustration and tiredness. "Happy birthday to me...that's new."

With nothing left to lose, she gets back out of bed to find some clothes to change into.

It was her birthday and she had to look good.

And hopefully, it would be the last birthday she would spend in this mansion.

NOTES: Hi, I hope everything is okay, even if it's better than me, I had finished the 'prologue' a while ago but I was feeling a bit unsure that something felt out of place or "weird".

I repeat and reiterate, I can understand English but in terms of speaking/writing it I am still learning. Until I feel completely confident for now I will continue using the translator (my savior).

But if there are any errors (probably some, I hope not many) let me know, I want everyone to be able to read comfortably and as long as I can I will make it happen.

Anyway, I hope you like it, I love you! Muak muak💋💋

TAGS:

@crazycaoticsimp @closetreader1864

[ignoringmyexams]

jason is in the kitchen after patrol the night before halloween, wondering if he should get some takeaway, when his phone rings.

"who the hell calls this late at night? its 4am.."

its your name. he picks up at once.

"hey, you awake? can i come over?" , by the tone in your voice, it seems like you wont take no for an answer.

"it doesnt matter" you continue, "im already standing outside of your door"

this is the only safehouses you know about, and jason has been careful to make you think that he lives there all the time. usually he wouldnt risk you seeing his red hood gear, but at 4am, he thought it was safe to head here, as it was his nearest and largest apartment. he really didnt want to run 10 minutes through the cold and rainy october night to get to the next safehouse, and so now he finds himself rushing to hide his gear someplace you wont find it.

"uh, sure, just wait and ill let you in" he manages to stammer out, feeling nervous not only because he didnt want you to find out his secret identity. he never thought he would end up in this situation that night he met you at that dive bar on the outskirts of crime alley. you were so obviously out of place there, hanging out with your friends, anybody could see that you were students from gotham university, on the hunt for a cheap beer. he and roy had quickly stepped in under the guise of being friendly drunks, to protect you from the leer of some of gothams underbelly.

since then, youd kept coming to the dive bar, and jason kept coming to look out for you. after a while he just accepted that youd managed to work your way into his life, and now hed drive halfway across the city to meet you for lunch after your lectures. at some point, he noticed that his gaze seemed to linger longer that it had used to, and by now he had realized that he was mad about you. something he hoped you still were oblivious to.

"i promise you, you wont regret it. ive brought takeaway!" you chirped back at him.

jason lets you in, and hungrily takes the bag from you. by now youve learned that dumplings are a quick way to get him to do your bidding.

"shouldnt you be sleeping right now? i remember you saying that you have an early lecture tomorrow, or, today i guess." jason asked you. in fact he knew you had an early lecture, because he had your schedule memorized by now, to be able to suprise you with lunch. at this point his brain blocked out other dates and appointments to be able to remember more about you, someting that got him in trouble with bruce every time he forgot training sessions, or family meetings.

you were sat on the sofa, taking up as much space as you possibly could, something you did every time you came over. jason watched as your face turned deadly serious.

"jason, what im about to tell you cant leave this room. you have to promise me."

"of course" he reassured, worried now, "you can tell me everything",

"you sure?" you shot back, "i dont want this to change our relationship, or the way you view me, ok? im still the same person ive always been."

now he was really worried.

"im batman." you said with a completely straight face. "vengeance never sleeps, and so neither can i."

he looked at you with the most deadpan expression he could manage at that point. you held out in silence for what seemed an impressive amount of time before you cracked.

"its true" you wheezed out, "my friends want me to be batman at the halloween party tomorrow, but the costume hasnt arrived yet. and so ive got to use last years costume instead."

the infamous costume of halloween last year. the one jason never got to see you in, as he didnt know you at the time. he hasnt even seen a picture, but the thought that you own it is enough to drive him crazy.

"and so i wondered", you continued, "if i, pretty pleeeasee, could borrow your leather jacket, you know, the one that maches red hoods perfectly?"

now usually, jason would have said no. no one touches that jacket. but its you. and jason was also invited to said halloween party. and if youre going to make him socialize, he might as well have something to look at while doing it. and so he throws the jacket at you.

"try it on", and you do.

although jason is taller and broader than you, you still have some muscle on you, that fills out the arms and shoulders of the jacket in a way that makes it look just oversized instead of akward.

jason almost wants you to keep it. the smile he receives when he lets you borrow it is all he can think of the rest of that night, as he eats the dumplings you left for him.

[writing-mlm]

We’re alike… aren’t we?

Summary: Jason gets help getting bandaged after being stabbed, you get help after your fear of needles stops you from taking your HRT Pairing: Jason Todd & Trans!reader Wc: 960 tags/warnings: gender neutral reader, can be nb/ftm/mtf, stitching jason up, taking HRT, mentions of being tortured, trans blues, no romance but can be seen as such

based on a tiktok by @/blood_converse

—

Jason doesn’t understand why you stay around even after everything he’s done. You know his past, you know his present, and for fucks sake you probably see where his future is heading. But fuck, you’re still there. You’re still letting him in at one in the morning after he crashed through your window for the millionth time that month, all with open arms. 

You’re still giving him the good blanket because it’s the middle of winter and his suit isn’t all that good at keeping him warm. You’re still lowering the music because he’s bordering on a concussion. You’re still staring at him as if he isn’t a serial killer, crime lord, zombie!

He doesn’t understand that you get it. 

In your own way, of course. 

You know what it’s like having a family that mourns you even though you’re right in front of them. You know what it’s like to feel as if you’re in the wrong body, missing parts that you’ll probably never get no matter how hard you work because it’s not the same. It just isn’t. You understand all too well what it’s like when your family looks at you, not looking at the adult you’ve grown into but the child they once had. The child you can no longer be. The adult that cannot bear to accept because it’s not what they had in mind for you. 

You know what it’s like to be set aside, to be considered wrong. 

You both don’t like mirrors, broken enough that you’ve gotten bad luck for the next three lifetimes. You both get nervous when getting intimate with partners because what if they think your bodies are gross? You’ve both gotten fucked over by your fathers. 

“Did you take your shot?” He asks as you hand him a water bottle and a pill for his pain. 

“No,” You sigh, looking away from him. “I chickened out again.” He doesn’t laugh, but you see the twinkle in his eyes as he takes the pill without the water chaser. He still drinks it, though. It’s non-contaminated water, it’s like the holy grail for fucks sake. 

“Get it, I'll do it.” It’s no use putting up a fuss, he’d just get up and find it himself. Besides, you could really use the help. The needle thing still freaks you out and your insurance is moving slow to move you to something better like gel or auto injections things. 

When you return, he’s washing his hands and putting on a pair of gloves. Not to mention in one of his shirts he keeps at your place, something about having too many germs on his clothes to be next to medical equipment. He’s forgotten pants, you note. Probably because he’s bleeding from his outer thigh. 

“I’ll get the medkit,” Setting your box of HRT supplies on the coffee table, you ignore his protest. Getting the kit you’d gotten after the first time he crashed at yours needing medical attention but refusing to go to a hospital or Bruce’s. Which, for the record, is more often than you care to think about.

When you return he’s sitting on your floor, a small pool of blood collecting on his discarded shirt. You replace it with an old towel and clean the spot. He doesn’t wince, but you see his thigh tense as you wipe the area and begin stitching him up. He’s used to getting stitched up, it hardly affects him these days unless it’s a bad wound. Thankfully this is a small stab wound, it’ll heal in under a week if he doesn’t open the stitches. And he probably will at some point. 

“All done,” Grinning at your work, you wrap it in bandages and then put a pin to secure it. He’ll check on it once he can but he trusts your handy work, it hasn’t failed him yet. 

“Your turn,” He says when you remove your own set of latex gloves. You wince at the idea but begrudgingly let him do it. He moves you to the couch, lifting your shirt enough that he can see your stomach and has you hold it up. You do, knuckles pressing against your skin so much your hand starts to shake.

“You’re a lot better at stitching me up and putting a needle in your stomach,” He humors you as he’s grabbing an alcohol wipe, eyes flickering up to yours. He cleans the vile first, carefully setting it on the table when he’s done. 

“You try getting tortured by needles,” You mutter, blinking down at his hand as he wipes the area. It’s cold against your skin, even more so when he fans it for a second. “Fucking hate Joker,” 

“Don’t we all,” He grabs the bottle and a 1-millimeter syringe that makes you inhale and look away. “You’re good, you got this,” He mutters with his attention mostly on drawing the liquid into the syringe with a careful eye. He switches the needle before checking for air bubbles and pinches at your skin once he’s sure it’s perfect.

“Ready?” He asks. “You can squeeze my shoulder.” You can only muster a nod as you prepare yourself. He works slowly, watching as he carefully slides the needle into your stomach and then watches your face as he slowly injects it. He doesn’t like it when he helps you; the panic in you makes his stomach hurt but he also doesn’t want you to not take your HRT or have a panic attack trying to do it yourself. 

He pulls the needle out and wipes away the drop of blood before putting on a bandaid. 

“All done.” He smiles, snapping his gloves off. You drop your shirt with a sigh, running your hands over your face as you relax.

[alchemistdoctor]

Tim starts off stiff, assuming he's just been kidnapped, but these two are chatting with him like they know him, and not in the Harley Quinn "I talk to everyone like this" way.

And then there is a giant. Fucking. Werewolf.

"Uh, nice to, um. Meet. See? You?" he tries, flustered and stuttering more than usual because he is being sniffed. Being sniffed is weird. Especially when done this intently.

"Ĉi tiu ne Danny," the wolf growls, and the boy beside Tim stiffens. Tim sighs, holding both his hands up.

"Jen kio mi prov dir al ili!"

Danny searches the whole alley before yelping when a shadow drops down behind him. He knows who it is - no ghost sense plus bat shaped shadow, in Gotham?

He rounds on the shadow, fists clenched. "What did you do to my friends?!"

Batman seems surprised at this. And oddly - hm. Danny thinks he may have died before, but in like, a distant way. Alternate time-line, maybe. It's enough for Danny to sense the lack of aggression, anyway, the way the intent-to-fight had immediately lessened upon seeing his face. "I did nothing. Your friends took another child with them. I was asked to find out what had happened and retrieve them."

Danny tastes desperation and love and family on the edges of his senses, and takes a really deep breath, lets it out slow. "Okay, I am gonna ask just one question. Please tell me I'm wrong, but." He straightens, meets Batman's mask. "Do I look like Robin?"

The emotions flickering through the alley make him groan. "Oh god. My friends stole Robin thinking he was me. Fuck. How does this happen?!" He throws his hands up in the air. "How the hell is my life the sort of life where my friends steal Robin on accident?!"

Batman radiates amused and indignant and an edge of panic, and Danny sighs, deflating. "Don't worry. My friends can keep a secret. So can I. And I'll help get him back, but first-" he holds up a finger. "You gotta take care of the anti-ecto acts. He won't be safe otherwise. He's been to the Infinite Realms, he's definitely exposed enough to be liminal at the least."

"Oh," says Batman, and Danny is confused at the tone before Batman's cowl makes some funny chittering sounds, and Danny realizes it's an initial. He panics for a moment, but the sounds are too high pitched to be a man on the comms. He can't help being tense, though.

The chittering goes on for a while. Danny waits as Batman radiates a series of faint emotions: impatience, horror, rage, determination. Finally he nods once. "Make a report to the League. I want Wonder Woman on this right away. Set up a meeting on the Watchtower."

Danny's eyes flash green with sudden excitement. "CAN I COME?" The question wasn't voluntary, it just happened. He squeaks and tries to explain, "I mean, I can answer questions? And I really really like space, like so much-"

Batman grunts and walks toward the alley entrance. Danny skitters after, excited.

Two minutes later, a portal tears open in the alley. A giant wolf-man steps through with three children. The goth girl shouts loudly, "DANNY!! DANNY!!"

The kid with a coffee steps forward, looking at something stuck to the alley wall, and slumps. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

[Bruce left a scratched sigil, just a calling card in case Tim came back, when he jumped from the roof. Tim is exasperated that everyone panicked this quickly- he was gone for FIFTEEN MINUTES, CALM DOWN, HE CAN HANDLE HIMSELF. Oracle is neck deep in AEA stuff so has not noticed their return. Wulf is sniffing. He can scent Danny. And someone who smells like angst and exhaustion.]

Mistakes Were Made

It's always Danny getting mistaken for a Wayne, and ends up getting dragged into the bats' lives. What if instead of that though Tim gets mistaken for Danny, and now has to deal with ghost stuff.

Danny, Sam, and Tucker are in Gotham because Clockwork needs them to get something, talk to Lady Gotham, or whatever reason you want. While there though the three of them end up spilt up with plans to meet up in the alley behind a coffee shop nearby in a couple hours.

Coincidentally, that is the same time Tim likes to go and get himself some coffee from that very shop.

Sam and Tucker by this time have already arrived, and are just waiting on Danny when they see Tim walking past; whom they assume is Danny. The fact that Danny is seemingly wearing different clothes from when they last saw them doesn't even concern them at all. Their friend must have just needed a disguise for something. Obviously!

Tim takes a mental note when he hears people talking in the alley, but when a voice happily calls out to someone named "Danny" he doesn't pay it anymore mind. He has a coffee that's not going to order itself after all.

The voice calls out to this Danny person once more, and the voice is much closer to him this time. Curiosity getting the better of him he stops and looks back only for a teen around his age wearing a red hat to grab his arm. The stranger is talking at him a mile a minute as he drags them back into the alley where a goth girl is waiting. A small glowing marble sits in her hand.

To help Sam, Tucker, and Danny get back to Infinite Realms, Clockwork gave them something that would open a portal wherever they are. All they need to do is throw it onto a large surface, and a portal will appear for a few seconds; enough time for all of them to enter it.

"It's about time you show up, Danny!" The girl says while looking directly at him.

Tim doesn't even have any time to react before she is throwing the glowing marble at the brick wall, and a bright green, Lazarus green, portal opens up and he is being pushed inside of it.

Just as the portal disappears behind the three of them Danny comes rushing into the alley only to see no one there, and that immediately worries him because while Tucker might have been late as well; Sam wouldn't have been.

Meanwhile, Barbara is panicking because every single tracker and electrical device on Tim has simultaneously disconnected. She knows Tim likes to frequent a certain coffee shop at this time, and pulls up all the security cameras with the building in view.

She doesn’t like what she finds, and she assumes the blurry figure that enters and exits the alley soon after will have some more concrete answers for what happened to Tim.

[fanfics-i-find-here]

Do I know You? Part 10

Jason Todd X Reader

Synopsis: Jason takes care of you.

Notes: I have seriously hyped up this chapter because I’m in love with it actually. It’s a very comforting moment after what our girl has just been through. She has one panic attack but it’s okay because Jason’s there. There is some semi-nudity but nothing sexual. This is very, very intimate(again not sexually though). Enjoy!!

Warnings: one Panic attack, semi-nudity

Masterlist

You pick at your hands, trying to scrap the blood from under your nails when your eyes catch movement, glancing up and dropping your gaze when you notice it’s a body bag. In a matter of minutes, you hear a familiar voice questioning several officers.

“Where is she? Is she okay?” You look up and spot Jason quickly following the commissioner towards you. For the first time in what feels like hours you stand up and take only a few steps forward before Jason is hugging you. He cradles the back of your neck avoiding your head. His other hand takes to gently sweeping up and down your back. A well of emotions exploded from your chest and your sobbing again, Jason’s shirt becoming wet with it. Despite the jacket and blanket on your shoulders, you’re suddenly aware of how cold you still feel as you press your face to the warm skin on Jason’s neck. If he thinks you feel like an ice cube, he doesn’t complain

He quietly coos at you, whispering soft calming words. You zone back out again, only focusing on Jason holding you as he slowly leads you to a car. The commissioner stops and talks to him for a moment and if you were more conscious you may have questioned it more.

“Be Careful. Red Hood was here, and she lived to talk about Penguin. News travels fast in Gotham. We don’t want bodies piling up again.” He gives Jason a meaningful nod before returning to police duties. Jason shakes his and continues to guide you to a car (a quick borrow from Bruce out of hidden garage in the area). Even when Jason was Robin, he always had the feeling that the commissioner knew everything about the family’s nightly activities and that for the sake of his own job never vocalized anything about it. Comments like these felt like they proved that point.

Jason takes his time leading you, mindful of icey patches. Your absent stare from earlier was still present and it worried him. He had attempted to wipe as much blood off of you with the sparse medical supplies he had in his belt. Gauze were used to soak up the blood and wipe you clean, but he didn’t want to hurt you by wiping too hard. Streaks of now dried blood remained on your arms, but your face seemed clearer and your nose was no longer bleeding. He was sure you were very uncomfortable.

 He opened the passenger door and helped you slide into the seat. You tense as you sit back, and he can only assume you’re a little more hurt than the mild concussion he was told about. You sit passively in the seat, making no move to do your seatbelt. He squats down and slowly reaches for the seatbelt, pulling it over your lap. However, your hands stop him. You look up to meet his eyes. There’s a pleading look there but he’s unsure what about. He glances back down at your hands and follows the line to your wrist. He can see it now. You had been tied up.  Your wrist, redder than the other exposed parts of your skin. He had thought it was more blood. Now a slow bruising started to show on your skin, darkening slowly. He understands the pleading look and doesn’t fight you over the seatbelt, letting it slide back into place.

“You going to get me in trouble, sweetheart. The cops are right there.” He says softly and he feels like his chest is going to crack open when you give him a weak smile. He stands and your hand latches onto his. He remembers the panicked look you had given Red Hood when he said he had to leave. He has never wanted to carve his heart out and give it someone more than he did in that moment. He knew you had abandonment issues. Way back when this thing you two have had started, you thought he wasn’t going to come back, and he’s seen you have same thought process a few different times. It hurt that he had to be part of the problem. Red Hood had to be part of the problem. Jason, however, was not going to let you feel like that.

“I’m just going to walk around to the driver’s side. You can watch me through the windows.” He offers and your hand slowly loosens up and settles in your lap. He closes your door and moves quickly around the car and into the driver’s seat. He starts the car and blasts the heat. He hadn’t missed how cold your face was pressed against his neck and your hands were the same when you grabbed him. It worried him, like everything in the past four hours had. He gently slides his hand around your nearest hand, squeezing at your frozen fingers and trying to get you to look at him. Your head moves sluggishly but you finally meet his eyes. Your own are bloodshot but you look nearly cried out and on the brink of a well-deserved nap.

“I need to know where you live so I can take you home.” He says, gently massaging your hand. You stare at him but still have consciousness for the barest of warmth to flutter across your cheeks. You had hoped that maybe you would move before you brought Jason to your home. Then you wouldn’t have to admit that he had been parking in front of your building, and you had lied about living further down. You don’t have the energy to be embarrassed now.

“It’s where you park.” You murmur looking away from him. You focus on his hand holding yours. Warm, sturdy, present. He was here. He was real. He was taking care of you. He doesn’t question what you mean, briefly letting go of your hand to put the car in drive before holding your hand again. You easily lay your head against his upper arm, mindful of your twinging back. The car is quiet as he drives, and your eyes flutter closed for what feels like a second before he’s gently nudging you. He’s parked in the same spot he always does, and a moment of awareness crosses your mind that you’re in a car not on a bike. He’s out the door and you’re cold again. But he’s back at your side in seconds, helping you out of the car and up the steps into the apartment building. He guides you to the elevator and you finally sense hesitancy in his movements. You press the 6 for him and settle your weight against his side, sleepiness calling to you again. The elevator dings and it takes him pressing a hand to your lower back for you to start moving again.

 You walk dazed and come to stand at your door, staring at the knob. You didn’t have your keys. They were in your bag, and you had lost that. Jason’s hand comes into your line of vision along with your keys. He tries a couple on the chain before the one for your door meets the lock. You only stare in confusion. He opens the door and must sense your hesitancy.

“They found your bag and keys at the warehouse.” He states before his hand is on your elbow, gently pulling you forward. He closes the door and moves around you pulling the shock blanket and leather jacket from your shoulders and helping you take off your shoes. You shiver and he’s quick to rub at your arms.

“We should get you clean.” Your face scrunches because all you want to do is sleep. His thumb gently rubs at your cheek. “Trust me. It’ll help you feel better in the morning.” He tugs you again, more into your apartment and down the hallway towards your bedroom and bathroom. He turns on the light for the first door and leads you to sit on the toilet in the bathroom. He kneels in front of you with a hand on your knee.

“You want a bath or a shower?” He asks. You stare at him blankly, the terrors of the night starting to creep in your mind. You choose to focus on him, his features, his touch. Your hand comes up and you press the tips of your fingers against the scar on his cheek, following the line of it. He breathes in a strange way that you’ve never heard from him.

“How ‘bout a bath? I don’t think you could stand long enough for a shower.” You nod at his thought process, still focused on his skin. His hand comes up to hold at your wrist, pulling your hand away to rest in your lap again. He stands to turn on the faucet of the bathtub. Soon the room begins to feel warm and humid.

“I’ll be right outside the door if you need anything.” Your hand shoots out to grasp at his tightly despite your weakened state. He doesn’t flinch, just kneels back down in front of you.

“What is it?” He speaks softly, with all the concern in the world and it eats at your chest. You don’t want to be alone; you need someone present.

“Please,” your voice wobbles and you hate it, “don’t leave.”

“I’m going to be just outside the door. I want to give you some privacy.” He says, pushing at your hair. You don’t listen because all you can think about is how Red Hood left you out on the street and you don’t think you could deal with that heartache right now. You stare at him with all the energy you have, hoping he’ll understand. He concedes with a sigh.

“I’ll close my eyes.” He says and your blank stare returns because you’re not cognitive enough to understand what he’s saying. “To undress.” he adds, glancing at the water filled tub. You follow his line of sight, remembering you were in this room for a purpose. You lift your arms slightly and wince. The ache in your back and head doubling at the movement. You hadn’t reached for your shirt, so Jason hadn’t closed his eyes.

“Do you want help?” he asked carefully. Your eyes meet his and you search, worried you’d find that same lustful gaze that the other man had. Jason’s eyes held no such malice. There was no spark of an opportunity to get an eyeful. He just looked concerned. The same kind Jason you’ve been slowly falling for. You nod slowly, with a little shame that you can’t undress yourself.

Jasons hands move slow. They hover over your thighs before settling on your hips. His warm hands skim under the hem of your top and settle against the skin above the waistband of your pants. You watch him and he watches you. You keep waiting for the ball to drop, waiting for a glimmer of want in his eyes. It never comes.

“Is this okay?” he asks and your heart aches from the gentle way he speaks and holds you. You nod, swallowing harshly around the knot in your throat. He guides one side of the shirt up, mindfully keeping his hand off of your skin. He helps you pull your arm out of the shirt, apologizing when you wince. He repeats the process on the other side and finally slides the shirt over your head. You’re wearing a ratty, old bra and feel a little embarrassed for a moment but Jason’s eyes never drift from your face. His hand still holds one of yours. He stands and tugs you with him.

“Think you can do your pants?” he asks.

Your voice shakes as you respond, “yea.” You drop your eyes to the buttons on your jeans. You tug them down your hips, keeping your underwear in place. You feel the heat of his hovering hand next to your arm. As you push the pants to your knees you start to lose your balance, blood rushing to your head from being momentarily upside down. Jason’s quick to steady you, like always. You stand back up. He doesn’t say anything as you blink away the dizziness. You think you should feel ashamed that you can’t take care of yourself at the moment but Jason’s face holds no judgement. You want to cry again from the tender care in his eyes.

“Will you?” you ask quietly. He nods and kneels back down. Despite where his face would meet if he looked forward, he keeps his head ducked respectfully. Eyes on your pants he tugs them past your knees and to your ankles. He taps one of your knees and you press your hands to his shoulders, not wanting to lose balance, as you lift your leg. He repeats the process on the other leg and your jeans join your shirt on the corner of the bathroom. He gives your calf a tender squeeze before he’s standing again, eyes on your face.

“Okay?” he asks

“Yea” your answer is weak, and it has nothing to do with the events prior to the apartment. His ever-gentle hands help you into the tub. You hiss slightly from the heat of the water, body still fairly cold. You sit down and pull your knees to your chest. You rest your cheek against your knee as you watch him ruffle through your cabinets. You feel weepy again, out of gratitude instead of fear, as he comes back with a wash clothe and the cup you use to rinse after you brush your teeth. He settles them on the edge of the tub.

“You should lay back. The heat might help with your back a little bit.” He says as he sits criss cross next to the tub. You nod and slowly tip back, the heat slowly creeping up your back does feel nice. His hand is suddenly at the base of your skull, and you don’t understand why until you rest against his hand and the tub itself. A tickling of pain shoots through your head no doubt dampened by the cushion of his hand. You had a concussion. At least someone remembered. Your eyes slide shut, and you will your body to relax in the heat for a minute.

After a few minutes Jason begins to worry that you had fallen asleep, in the tub of all places. If this had been literally any other situation, he would be losing his mind. You were practically naked in a tub of water. Any other guy would be taking advantage of eyeing you up and he would be too, in a very, very different instance. But he would never do that to you, especially after the night you had. He watches your face and even though the rest of your body seems to have relaxed in the water, your features twitch. Laying in the tub against his hand probably was not the most comfortable position for your injuries. He rubs at your hair where his fingers rest.

“Feeling any better?” He asks you to which you respond in kind with a nod. He is a little worried that he can only get nods and short answers from you but he’s sure you’re exhausted.

“We should get you clean and into your much more comfortable bed.” Your eyes flutter open as he presses you up. Your hand wraps around his other arm that was resting on the edge of the tub as you lift yourself. You curl back in yourself, knees dragged up again. He eyes all the bottles in your shower. He’d rather get what remained of the blood off of you and call it a night, but you had blood in your hair too and a simple rinse wasn’t going to do the job. He finally finds a shampoo bottle. He picks up the cup he found on the counter and scoops up a cup full of water and dumps it on the back of your head. Your neck straightens as you turn to look at him. He can’t read your expression, and it drives him crazy. The entire night you’ve had a blank face, like you don’t have the energy to emote.

“I’m gonna wash your hair, okay?” You stare at him a little longer before turning your head forward and tipping it back. He takes it as your agreement, scoops up some more water and dumps it around the hair faming your face. He squirts a very generous amount of shampoo in his palm. Your lip quirks as you watch him from the corner of your eye. He’ll take it as a win even though he doesn’t know what’s amused you. You turn your head so you’re facing the wall, and he has clear access to the back of your head. He rubs the shampoo in a lather and starts to gently run it through your scalp. He takes his time at the top, working down. Your shoulders tense as his fingers circle near the bump on the back of your head. He works around it and then rubs the shampoo into the lengths of your hair. He hears you sniffle quietly but doesn’t question it. He takes his cup and gently rinses the soap, gently turning your head this way and that way, careful not to get soap on your face. He spots a body wash and soaks the washcloth he had found before rubbing that.

 You watch him with sleepy eyes as he turns your face towards him and rubs gently with the corner of the rag.  For a moment your mind flashes to Red Hood with whatever material he was using to get rid of the blood that had been harsh against your skin. You push the thought aside once again focusing on Jason. His face concentrated. He was handsome, rugged and regal looking all at once. The rag is settled on your knee once he seems pleased with the soap on your face. His hand dunks in the water and then he’s gently caressing your face. Your eyes shut as he wipes at your forehead and down your face, carful touches at your eyes and brushes at your neck.

He pulls your arm from where you hold your leg, and the rag is off your knee. He moves it up and down your arm, starting at your shoulder. You watch as the previously dried blood wipes off easily. He soaked you like a dirty pan. The thought makes a quiet giggle start in you. Jason gives you a strange look and then you can’t stop. You erupt in heavily laughter and tears spring up in yours. It only takes a few seconds but laugh changes to gasped breaths, a harsh weight on your chest. Tears stream down your cheeks again but you’re barely conscious of it because you can’t breathe.

You barely register a harsh squeeze on your knee before there are hands on your face. Thumbs rub at the skin on your cheek, and you can barely make out the blob that is Jason through your blurry vision. You try to focus on him. Your hand wraps around one of his wrists and your nails dig into his pulse point as you try to ground yourself. His voice filters into your ears.

“Breathe, Sweetheart, you’ve gotta breathe. Come on.” His free hand grabs your own and presses your flat palm to his chest. You can feel his heart beating and his chest moves as he breathes. You try to copy him with a stuttering gasp. You slowly become conscious of your surroundings again. His thumb on your cheek. The water you sit in slowly turning warm instead of hot. The hum of the bathroom fan. Your breathing slows but your grip on his wrist remains firm.

“There you go, atta girl. Just keep breathing” You lean against Jason’s hand and close your eyes focusing on his breath and your own. If you thought, you were exhausted before you were wrong.

You desperately need sleep Jason decides. He thinks that’s why you had the panic attack in the first place, exhaustion and stress over taking your sense. He coaxes you to release the grip you have on his wrist so he can clean that arm. You keep a grasp on his shirt though. He rinses you off as quick as he can. He does a once over to make sure you’re as clean as he could get you at the moment. Your wrists have bruised up and there were scraps on your knuckles. Some minor first aid would be smart, but it would have to wait til morning. He pries your hand from his shirt and holds it in his as he reaches back and tugs a towel from its rod. He pulls the plug from the drain and pulls you stand. You’re weak and leaning on him as he helps you step out of the tub. The front of his shirt soaked from where you lay. You shiver and he wraps the towel around you. He gives you a harsher than necessary rub but he’s trying to keep you awake long enough to change into dry underwear and warm pajamas.

He guides you out of the bathroom and into the bedroom and sits you down on your bed. It’s different than the last time he had been in there as Red Hood. No messy piles of clothes, only the cleanliness he was use too. He picks though your drawers and pulls out some fuzzy matching pajamas and he tries not stare at your underwear draw too long. He sets the clothes next to you. He wonders if you’ve fallen asleep sitting up, your eyes closed. He taps at your shoulder and your eyes open, half-lidded.

“Clothes” he offers. You nod but make no move. He remembers your struggle with your shirt. He slips the pajama top over your head as you stare at him. He pulls your hair from where it’s tucked. He pauses before he tries for your arms. You still had a wet bra on. He couldn’t let you sleep in that.

“You need take your bra off.” He tries to be delicate but there’s no way around it. You blink at him. He stares back. Theres a pause before your arm bends back awkwardly and you wince. Jason face scrunched in confusion. You stop your movement and stare at him.

“I can’t” He understands now. What idiot put the bra clasp in the back he didn’t know. He climbs on the bed behind you. He lifts the back of your shirt slightly and stares at the clasp. Jason would hate to admit it out loud, especially to you considering whatever your relationship was, but he had never taken bra off of a girl. This was the first time he was up close and personal to one and he wishes it was under different circumstances. He leans to look closer at it and pulls it off your skin. He folds it slightly and sees the hooks. After a minute he finally gets it undone and you easily slip it off of your shoulders. He pulls the shirt down and pulls your arms through the sleeves, careful not to touch any unnecessary skin.

He stands in front of you again. You still have that dazed, sleepy look in your eye but you still have the towel settled around your hips. He sighs

“Sweetheart, I can’t help you with this one.” You squint at him. He glances at the towel, and you follow his line of site. You nod in understanding. You pat at the bed until you find the pair of clean underwear. You pause before moving the towel and look at him, waiting. He gets the message, turning around, closing his eye and covering them with his hand for good measure. He hears you shuffle around the bed, no doubt sitting to change your bottoms instead of standing.

“Okay” you say, sounding out of breath and exhausted. When he turns around, you’re laid back on your bed, legs dangling over the edge and eyes closed. Your undergarments are nowhere in sight so he can only assume you threw them somewhere.

“Don’t fall asleep yet. Let’s get you under the covers.” He says. Your face scrunches like you’re going to whine about it, but you let him gently man handles you up and under the covers of your bed. By the time he has you tucked in your fluttering between awake and asleep, eyelids staying closed longer than open. His hand presses at your face tenderly and then the warmth of it is gone. Your eyes open to see him drifting to the door.

“Wait,” you call out weakly. He pauses, turning back towards you, you can see a fond look cross his face while he waits for you to speak. “Stay, please” you scoot over in your queen-sized bed. It was large enough you could span out eagle style, but you get the feeling it may be too small for Jason. You just didn’t want to be alone. He concedes without complaint, laying on top of the covers beside you. You turn on your side, curling in on yourself and against him. Your hand pops out from under the covers and curls around his forearm, his own mimics you. You close your eyes and carefully press your face against his arm.

“Thank you” you murmur, already drifting in unconsciousness. He doesn’t say anything, but you feel him squeeze your arm before you’re completely out.

Additional note: Yea so I love him. I hope the comfort lives up to what guys wanted after the last chapter. Also, I would like to apologize, I told a bunch of people it would be out Saturday, and I am posting it Sunday morning. I had COVID all of this last week, stuck in my apartment by myself. So obviously the days don’t exist. Anyways sorry about that. Also the amount of times I had to walk away because I felt like I was witnessing someone else's private moment was insane. Thank you for reading and for loving on this series.

Tag List: @little-miss-naill, @nikilolo787, @joonunivrs, @uzxotic, @qardasngan, @stormz369,  @g4bbi3xx, @iwatobiswimbros, @the-lonely-flute, @elz-xo, @gone-batty-fics, @princessesgarden, @notfckincreative, @love-theangel, @feyres-fireheart, @tetsuroubaby 

[k0nanharv3y]

Alfred who came down after hearing so much noise: What's going on here, Mr. Bruce, Mr. Tim?

And Tim's face turned to Alfred like a rubber band. Bruce's face took a little longer, but he also looked at the old man in pain, seeking comfort or advice from his father

Alfred looked between Tim's heartbroken face and Bruce's wounded face: I don't know what's going on here, but I would advise you both to change and take your conversation upstairs

And Tim only saw red

Tim: This is- I'm so done!, I'm so fucking done, with you!

He pointed aggressively at Bruce

Tim: You!

Damian, who had stood on the sidelines and now seemed personally offended

Tim: And you! And everyone else in this fucking family!

Finally he pointed at Alfred even more aggressively

Alfred, shocked by the open display of hatred towards him, he felt his heart heavy: Mr. Tim- I-

For the first time in perhaps ever, Alfred hesitated

Damian: Hey! You have nothing to yell at Pennyworth for!

He defended

Tim: Shut up Damian, this isn't about you!

He silenced him and turned to both adults now

Tim: It's about you, and what you did to me

Both adults looked at each other and remained silent

Tim: You, you were an abuser and I didn't deserve that, any of this, I've always tried to please you, to live up to what you wanted! And you?! You left him, Alfred, and I wish I didn't hate you like Dick and Jason do, but all I see when I come into this house is an abuser and the person who let him! Don't play dumb, Alfred, you- You're just as bad as Bruce! And even if Bruce was the problem, you never made me feel welcome! Never-! I had to walk home a hundred times with bruised ribs, ribs that you bandaged up and then pretended didn't exist!

His throat was now raw and his voice had become cracked and squeaky. And both adults, when they saw Tim, didn't see the 17-year-old running a multi-million dollar company, they just saw the 12-year-old excited to be Robin and looking for any kind of validation they could give him

And this was what they gave him, a house where he didn't feel safe or welcome, a family he avoided like fire avoids water, thousands of reasons not to return and they robbed him of any kind of childhood he could've had

And the two adults remained silent, unable to deny or say anything, because they had nothing to say. Tim had said enough for them

Tim: You say you loved all the children in this mansion, but guess what, Alfred, I was once a child myself, and the only thing I ever got from here, never came from you. When I came here to become Robin, I thought... I thought I might get something like Jason and Dick got, too, but it seems the only thing I'll get from you is an inscription on my grave. What will you put this time, Alfred? "A good soldier," "A good son"?

Silence was his response

Tim: Fuck you all

He pulled off his cape and threw it on the ground

Tim: Fuck you all. I'm tired of this, tired of-! Of everyone wanting something from me! I quit

He ripped off his tool belt and threw it at Bruce

Tim: I quit your stupid last name, I quit your stupid company, I quit being Red Robin, I quit everything

When he had nothing left to tear off, he kicked things off the floor

Tim: I'm done! And if you ever- And if you ever care even a little, don't look for me! I don't want anything to do with this family, all of you-!

He looked at the people in the cave and seemed about to cry

Tim: I hope you-! Fuck you all, I never deserved this! Fuck you, I hope you all fuck off and-!

His voice broke and his crying intensified

Tim: I hope you die

His voice trailed off as he tried to wipe away the tears that kept running down his cheeks

Tim: I hope you suffer at least a fraction of what you did to me and...! And... And why can't I hate you...? Why can't I hate you...?

His voice sounded so tired

Tim: All I ever wanted was to be... to be enough, for you to love me... and I want to hate you but- but you're my father, and they're my brothers and... and I'm so tired, I want to go home, I want to feel safe and I want to hate you! Why can't hate you?!

He collapsed on the ground, like all his other things, like a pathetic spectacle of a pathetic child. He felt miserable in the eyes of the people who hurt him, he felt vulnerable and naked and... and he didn't care anymore, the weight he had been carrying for so long finally lifted from his shoulders and he felt satisfaction at the heartbroken look on Bruce's face and the pain on Alfred's face, and Tim simply didn't care about being on the ground anymore

He didn't care about anything anymore, just like he didn't matter

///

Part 1 Jumpscare!!!

That awkward conversation I had!!

///

And no one gets any comfort because god knows I don't know how to write about comfort, Tim deserved that breakdown and Bruce and Alfred deserved to have someone point out to their faces that they were, in fact, abusive and ruined a child's life

I would do this with Dick, Jason, Damian and Barb too, but I haven't read many comics about them, fanfics? sure, but I don't know how much of it is canon and what their real personalities are

Bruce ruined his children's futures, but canonically he also saved them. Dick was saved from becoming GraySon, Jason was rescued from the streets, Damian was saved from the League of Assassins, and Barb... Barb made choices

But Dick was also condemned to the superhero life and all the harm that entails, Jason was condemned to die, Damian went from an abusive mother to a neglectful father, and Barb... well, she's now permanently in a wheelchair

There's just too much to unpack there!!!! And my psychology books are begging to be opened again, but Tim is my favorite and that means everything I think of will be about or referring to him

[hopefullyyoursmcg]

Routine!Reader Relationship with the Batfamily(in the beginning):

Bruce Wayne:

The relationship between Routine!reader and Bruce is similar to most of the neglected reader fiction you would read.

You were taken in just a few months after the death of Jason. So Bruces couldn’t emotionally take care of the reader. He did provide for them as they grew. He would have dinner with them. He would give them his card if they asked for it. But that was about it. He just provided financially and had meals with the reader.

As time went on, though, and the family grew, the reader began to stop attending the dinners and, more or less, just stayed on their side of the manor. They learned how to cook themselves through YouTube and TV shows.

Due to the reader's emotionless and stern mind, during those dinners where rountine! reader was forced to attend, the reader doesn’t feel much to Bruce. She just sat and ate, and then she would leave to go and plan her week.

The routine reader doesn’t call Bruce, dad or father, as she doesn’t view him as anything but the man who took her in. That was it.

When she left, Bruce only realized until the next family dinner, as you weren’t seated at your usual spot at the end of the table.

Dick Greyson:

Dick was going through the loss of Jason and was going through all sorts of things at the time, not to mention he was already living in Bloodhaven so Dick didn’t interact with reader a lot in the first place.

Dick didn’t acknowledge Routine reader during the first few years she lived at the manor.

However, as the family grew and he began to visit more often, there were times during the few dinners that the reader was forced to attend by Alfred when Dick would try to talk to them, try to get them to be a part of the family dinner. But the reader would just give him only a few hums and short answers.

The reader reminded Dick a lot about Bruce, as she carried a sort of mysterious and quiet aura. Dick is trying to be a good brother now, he tries his best to be better and be around everyone, but with you, it's like you don’t even see him.

After the reader started Uni, there were times when reader would see dick, walking around campus looking for something, but you just ignored him and quietly walked to class.

Little did you know he was looking for you.

But when you graduated, you were missing from the manor . It was like you disappeared.

“where are you dove?”

Jason Todd

 As I said you were brought in when he was dead.

But after being alive, and coming back for vengeance, you were safe due to the fact of your neglect, as Jason didn’t see you around Bruce and the media did not pay attention to you.

After the vengeance arc, the first time you and Jason are in the library. You were doing your homework.

When I say this was your first meeting, it was more like Jason watching you for the first time. When you heard someone walk through the doors of the library, you didn’t even look up, as you were focused on what you had to do for school so you had time to go and cook your lunch.

Jason was neutral about you at first. Alfred had informed him that Bruce had taken in a biological child of his and was raising them and it wasn't like he went to the manor and stayed for long.

What got him hooked was your cooking.

During one of his occasional fridge raids in the manor, he found you cooking some pork chops.

After some silence, you asked if he wanted any or if he was just going to stand there like an idiot.

After that, whenever he enters the manor, he looks for you and tries to get you to cook for him.

Most of the time you ignored him or just leave the room when he enters.

After he found out that you left, Jason was wandering why. University? Nope. He found out through one of your friends Instagram post that you had graduated months ago.

If that’s the case, why did you leave?

Tim Drake:

Tim is one of the greatest detectives in Gotham if not the world.

Yet for some reason, he can't get any information about you.

(This is because you don’t use social media at all, but that doesn’t mean you don’t appear on it.)

When Tim first became Robin at 13 and living with Bruce after gaining custody, you were 12. Due to his stalking research on Batman, he already knew that Bruce had a biological child, but he was too busy carrying the title of Robin that he didn’t have time to address you.

After a while, the two of you would eventually meet face-to-face. You were in the kitchen making coffee when Tim walked in. You noticed him eyeing your coffee so you moved out of the way to let him grabb the freshly made coffee pot.

Your first interaction with each other wasn't anything worthwhile, you just ignored him after that.

But to Tim, this was the start of something new. When seeing you for the very first time, he wanted to know more about you. Why did you act the way you did, why you didn’t seem to care about simple matters or big matters, why you didn’t react to the world around you? Why, why why, why.

As you grew up, Tim would gradually try to learn things about you, after failing to find you on social media because you don’t have any, he found your friends and saw that in all of them, you had the same face, same body posture, and no reaction. Nothing seemed to change. Why?

Were you abused before coming into the manor? No. Past reports indicate no abuse of any kind and that you were raised by hard-working mom who didn’t seem to cause any problems.

As he began to observe you more as the both of you grew older, the more of an obsession he had of you. Every day he would try to learn something new about you, and when he was able to find the rare detail, it was like a fucking rush of dopamine.

When you leave without a trace.

Now he wonders, where did you go? What are you hiding now?

Damion Wayne

Many people say that Damion would attack a neglected reader to show dominance as the better heir and blood child.

This does happen. When they first meet each other.

Routine! reader would be 16 when she meets the 10-year-old assassin for the very first time.

Bruce introduces Rountie! reader to Damion after a few days of him living in the manor. The meeting is placed in one of the living rooms where both Bruce and Alfred are present.

The routine reader does raise an eyebrow when she hears that the little goblin that’s glaring at her is her new little biological brother, but besides that, she just nods her head. Damion on the other hand decides to fight for dominance as the better-blood sibling and immediately attacks with a dagger.

Thankfully due to Alfred training the reader in self-defense, she was able to keep Damion from attacking her until Alfred and Bruce stepped in.

After that it was agreed on, for now, Damion and Routine!reader would be kept separated from each other until further notice.

After that, it was rare for the two siblings to be seen next to each other, and if they did happen to be in the same room. Routine!reader would pretty much treat him like everyone else, ignore him. Damion on the other hand would stare at you with a glare.

Due to this kind of relationship, the two of you didn’t know anything about each other.

All Damion saw was a pathetic excuse of a human, an unworthy successor.

And all Routine!reader saw was a green eyed goblin.

When Rountine!reader finally left, Damion didn’t really care that much.

He was confused when everyone started freaking out about you disappearing. So what?

That was until a child was discovered in your arms.

Cassandra Cain and Stephine Brown:

Honestly, these two both admire you.

The way you speak, the way you carry yourself. The way you dress.

Cassandra especially likes you as both of you struggle with expressing emotions. Whenever there's a family dinner or an event where both of you are attending, she tries to talk to you by sign language or through body language.

Despite you like being left alone and not seeing the family as a family, you did see that Cassandra wanted to just talk and to be with you.

The two of you would speak in sign language until the event or dinner was over and you would excuse yourself and leave for the day.

Overall, I think despite wanting to be left alone, Routine reader doesn’t mind Cassandra's presence as she doesn’t bother her with stupid questions or stares. They just sit there and talk with their hands and body language.

Stephine on the other hand, being the loud and head-first spirit she is, wants to talk to you about everything. Where did you get the shoes, clothes, and everything else you have? Do you like to shop? Tries to get you to shop with her. using Bruce's card.

On a deeper level, Stephine likes how elegant and quiet you are I think she had a type,  you don’t let people talk down to you, and come up with the coolest backhanded comments. Legit makes her laugh whenever she sees you put high-end ladies in their place.

When you suddenly disappear, Stephine is freaking out while Cassandra is trying to calm her down. They want to know where you are. Did they do something, why aren’t you in your usual place?

Please don’t leave them.

[mimiiiiiiiiisstuff]

Hi! I'm new to your account, but just binged your "I bet on losing dogs" storyline, and I had a question and concept for you? How much is the reader free to interpret? I'm a theater kid, so I like her hobbies. But is there any specific physical traits you're writing for her? I know you mentioned that we were/are chubby, which is cool, but do you imagine any certain features? Because I'm Mexican American with certain features, so I was curious if you had a certain ethnicity set for her besides being half White/Jewish from Bruce being her biological father.

I also had the same question about Tiffany, because I'm currently imagining the Stereotypical All American girl. Kinda got that Disney Channel actress vibe to her. (Physically). I also had this really messed up though of the reader having to spend YEARS trying to keep in touch her mother's culture and such, learning dishes, traditions, going to local festivals by herself, having to learn how to do makeup and hair styles/products that fit her face and hair pattern. No one bothered to help or teach her. But than, suddenly Tiffany starts to steal those "habits", uncaring if they were very personal to the reader. Than everyone in the family suddenly starts to like the Reader's culture and such. (I had this scene in my brain where the Reader walks in on Tiffany is bragging about some music or dish "she" tried out from the Reader's culture, while the family are all happy and curious about it. Even when the Reader tried to introduce it to the family, everyone declined even trying it.)

I see the Reader so "Your Best American Girl" coded by Mitski.

Anyway I just wanted to ramble, bye!

ok so, I'm trying to be as vague as possible bc reader is supposed to be whoever is reading so there's no in depth description or specific height or build (except chubby in the prologue). i feel like i've basically made reader an OC which i hate but personally when I'm reading a fic, I just ignore things if I don't like them or they don't apply to me which is what i suggest yall do!!

the reader's mother is Palestinian/ Venezualan, like my own mom but you can change it if you'd like. it's important to mention that reader does have Bruce's jaw structure and face shape and shares facial features with Damian as well. It's small things like the ears, the roman nose, even the eye shape, point is that every time reader looks in the mirror she can see shadows of Bruce and Damian on her face. it's kinda like the vibe of "like him" by tyler the creator. I'm middle eastern and hispanic so I imagine reader with darker feautures like tan skin, thick brown hair, arched brows and long lashes but it's all up to you!

reader is very confused because while her dad is white, she isn't. she did try to bond with Damian and learn Arabic with him but he shamed her for not knowing and kicked her out his room, literally. she used to be embarrassed of her heritage when she was younger (courtsey of Tiffany calling her a mutt) but as she got older she realized how interesting her culture is.

she wants to learn arabic but has no teachers and it's a pretty hard language to learn if you don't grow up speaking it .she has no sources to help her and most of the time culture and traditions are things you grow up with and are passed down to you from family. her mom used to speak to her in arabic and feed her dates and sandwiches with olive oil and sugar and make her fried plantians so those things are very special to her, they're some of the only details she remembers about her late mother. so yeah reader is very "Your best american girl coded"

You're so on point about Tiffany, she's your classic all American girl. Blonde hair, blue eyes, long tanned legs and a set of pearly whites. she's the kind of white girl to act like she cares about other races but is secretly racist. you know what girls im talking about! and that prompt you sent with the food eats so hard, I have a scene mapped out with that in the upcoming chapters. I rambled too girl!!! you really got me thinking tbh but let me stop and actually write the next chapter.

[galaxymagitech]

The Symbol of the Bat

For @casscainweek Day 4: Quotes | Comic Panels

Inspired by the panel/quote above where Cass says she's loyal to the Bat symbol, rather than Bruce.

Summary: After finding out that Dick is alive and undercover at Spyral, Cass confronts Bruce.

Characters: Cassandra Cain, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson

Warnings: Some canon-typical violence (a punch and a shove, mentions of blood), referenced abuse

Technically this is Part 2 of a series, but you don't need to read Part 1 to understand what happens.

You can read it here or on AO3!

Dick left hours ago. Cass knows she should stand, but she can’t seem to find it in her. Instead, she sits on her tattered couch, bare toes digging into the soft, faded fabric, and stares at her plaster walls.

Dick left hours ago, but just before that, he returned. Cass had thought her older brother was dead, but it was all a lie. All Bruce’s lie. Because there Dick was in Hong Kong, doing business with an organ trafficking ring on behalf of an organization he was infiltrating. He moved wrong, like a flightless bird, and his face was too fuzzy to read. But underneath the weights on his limbs and the technology Spyral used to obscure his identity, he was Cass’s big brother.

Cass is thrilled that Dick is alive, but she can’t ignore what his body showed her. The hurt, the desperation, the fear. Dick did not abandon his family. Not by choice.

He made her promise not to tell anyone. Said that no one could know he was alive, for the sake of the Mission. Cass had agreed. But Bruce already knows. And Bruce is the one who hurt her brother and—she grasps for the word—coerced him into going on this mission.

Sliding to her feet, Cass shuffles over to the drawer where she keeps her phone and pulls it out, scrolling to Tim’s contact.

I need a favor, she types.

It’s shortly after noon back in Gotham. Tim responds almost immediately.

sure

im going to regret this aren’t I

Cass smiles. She doesn’t think he will.

***

Tonight in Gotham, there are two Batmen. One is Bruce Wayne, the man who saw a bat fly into his window, the boy who made a vow to his father. The other is Cassandra Cain.

She follows Bruce, sticking to the shadows but allowing him to perceive her presence. He ends his patrol early and leads her back to the cave. Then, he turns to Cass, body blank. “Explain.”

Cass removes her own cowl and stuffs it in her bright yellow utility belt. The cowl fits perfectly—Tim must have gotten someone to tailor the suit he stole on her request.

Following Cass’s lead, Bruce removes his own cowl, holding it in his gauntleted hands. Cass wonders exactly how things went down. Dick didn’t give her specifics. Didn’t even confirm Cass’s guess that Bruce hurt him, but she knows that she was right. After all, Dick didn’t try to deny it, knowing he couldn’t lie to her.

Was Bruce wearing gauntlets when he fought Dick? Or were his fists bare? Was that cowl still on? Did he speak, or did he just strike, again and again and again? 

And he did fight Dick. There’s no doubt about it. Alfred had told her that Bruce had wrecked the cave in his grief. But Cass knows now that Bruce was not grieving. She can put the story together.

There was blood on the glass shards of Jason’s memorial case, Alfred said. Bruce wouldn’t show him the injury. He’d worried that this was self-destruction, was Bruce inviting infection.

Cass knows better, now.

“Why are you Batman?” Cass asks.

Bruce grunts. Cass looks at him expectantly until it’s clear she wants a real answer. “To wage war on Gotham’s criminal element.”

Cass nods. “Why did you become Batman?”

“To wage war on—”

“No,” Cass interrupts. It’s not a lie, but it’s not a truth either.

“I took an oath to clean—”

“No.”

Bruce pauses this time before he speaks. “To help.”

“Why?” Cass asks.

“Because I cared,” Bruce says. “And no one else did.” Good. He’s finally listening. “What is this, Cassandra?”

Cass reaches into her utility belt and pulls out a batarang. She runs a gloved hand along its sharp edge, tilting it consideringly and watching as it reflects the Cave’s artificial light. It’s an interesting weapon. Bats don’t kill, but if used incorrectly, a batarang could be lethal. It almost has been. “I am a Bat,” Cass says, tapping the batarang. She waits.

“Hn.” Bruce’s body signals agreement. Cass is a Bat.

“Are you?” Cass asks.

“I’m Batman.”

Cass swallows. Her gaze slips to Jason’s memorial as she replaces the batarang in her utility belt. She remembers what Alfred said.

“Why aren’t you in Hong Kong?” Bruce asks.

“I met someone there,” Cass says. Her blow is swift—one moment she’s standing across from Bruce, hands down, and the next Bruce is raising a hand to his cheek in shock. Blood on the shards of glass. Cass can almost see it, even though Alfred meticulously cleaned the Cave floor. “You hurt my brother,” she says. “You hurt Dick.”

Cass clocks the moment Bruce realizes, when his surprise turns to tension and horror. And then, those too are gone, replaced by cold indifference. “I did what was necessary.”

“What about family?” Cass asks. She doesn’t understand how the man who taught her so much has forgotten all of his own lessons. “Care? Love?”

“I love Dick,” Bruce insists. The indifference is cracking, though. “I love all of you.”

Cass believes he believes it. He used to, at least. But nowadays, Batman is more myth than man, more shadow than substance. He is an idea—unkillable, but emotionless too. “He lies for you,” Cass says. “He would die for you. But you’re…not real.”

She places a hand on Bruce’s chest, just over the Bat symbol.

“And you’re not a Bat,” Cass whispers. “Not anymore.”

Bruce’s face twists, and he rips her arm away. Cass lets him. At least it’s an emotion. “I hated it,” Bruce admits. “But I did what I had to do. If Dick doesn’t do this, people will die.”

Cass shakes her head. “Didn’t want to go.”

“It was necessary!” Bruce takes a strong step forward. Cass doesn’t flinch, just tilts her head up to meet his eyes. “It was for the Mission!”

There’s a fire in him. It scares Cass. “Blood on the glass,” Cass snarls. “You hurt my brother. Batman would not do that.”

“I needed to know he was ready! And this Mission—it’s bigger than me or you or Dick. I wish I could have done it any other way, but I couldn’t!”

“You made Batman to give,” Cass says. “This…you did not give.”

“I gave my son!” Bruce shouts hoarsely. “I sent my boy away!”

“No!” Cass shoots forwards, slamming her body into Bruce’s and forcing him back. “Not yours to give. You wanted, so you took.”

“I’ll tell you what I told Dick, when he insisted on playing this game.” Bruce warns. “You got your one free hit.” Cass remembers that. Remembers standing to the side with Tim as Bruce and Dick fought over Bruce’s attempt to abandon his civilian identity. Maybe Cass should have seen something then, but she was still new to the Bats. And the way they fought—there was still care there. Still love. Bruce was still her Batman. He isn’t, now.

Cass lets her lips curl into a smile. “Good,” she says, raising her fists. “Let’s fight.” Cass does not want to fight. The thought of fighting Bruce for real twists her stomach into knots of grief. She fights to stop and to understand. But she already understands. And even she can’t get Batman to stop with force alone. “You hurt my brother. Hit. Beat. There was blood on the glass!”

“It was necessary,” Bruce argues desperately. “And he agreed, in the end. He—“

Cass cuts him off. “Dick isn’t good at saying no. But this time…he did. And you—,” Cass points her words straight at Bruce’s heart, “—ignored him.”

Bruce freezes for a moment, like he’s deciding what to think. Buffering, Barbara would say. “What do you want?” Bruce asks, eventually. He sounds tired. Put-upon. Like Cass is asking something of him. Like she is exhausting him. “To hurt me, like I hurt him? I’m not proud of it, but I did what I needed to do, and I’ll accept the consequences of that. But you can’t tell your brothers. Not about this.”

He's not listening. He’s making this about him. About his pain, his punishment. This is about Dick—and the symbol. Luckily, Cass knows how to fix that.

She lunges forwards, gripping Bruce by the fabric of his Batman suit and forcing him against the wall. Cass is over half a foot shorter than him, but Bruce has the good sense to look wary. She withdraws her batarang and slices the Bat symbol from Bruce’s chest. Then, Cass releases Bruce and steps back, holding the fabric in one hand and the batarang in the other.

“You forgot,” Cass says. “I told you. I am loyal to this. Not you.”

Bruce holds one hand over the hole in his suit, like Cass tore out his heart. His face is twisting into a strange mix of pain and grief. Cass told him he hurt his son, but this is what breaks him.

Batman, as Cass knew him, is gone. She hopes Bruce can find him again.

“You used to fight for…compassion,” Cass says, clenching her fist around the Bat symbol. Her chest aches. “Love. You don’t now. You were…a protector. Now, you hurt your children. You used to be good. You lost that. You…are not Batman.”

“Gotham needs a Batman,” Bruce says quietly.

“It has me.” Cass turns away. Let him attack her. She does not want to read the anger-grief-despair in his body. The emotions she has caused. “You will tell Dick’s brothers. Or I will.”

“Cassandra—”

Cass spins around, pointing straight at Bruce’s chest. She tries to think of something to say, something that will show Bruce what he did. But nothing comes to her lips. Slowly, she turns until she’s pointing at the cases where all of Batman’s spare suits sit.

Each and every one of them has the Bat symbol ripped from its chest. And it’s only now that Bruce notices.

(Cass doesn’t think Bruce has been Batman in a long time. Not really. Not in his heart.)

“It’s over,” Cass says. “We can fight. But it’s over.”

Bruce’s shoulders slump. He does not lunge forwards. He does not open his mouth to speak.

Cass turns around and walks towards the stairs up to the Manor. Bruce doesn’t call out to her as she leaves.

***

Cass will go to her brothers. They will welcome her home with open arms. She will try to smile.

Bruce will lean against the wall, sliding down until he’s sitting on the Cave’s cold floor. He will stay there for a long time.

Eventually, Bruce will stand, walk towards Jason’s memorial case, and run a hand over the smooth glass. He will imagine the daggers of it digging into Dick’s back. And then he will realize that he does not have to imagine, because he saw it. He did it.

Still later, Bruce will tell his family that Dick is alive. Jason will punch him in the face. Bruce will say he deserves it, and Cass will shake her head, because that doesn’t do any good. At dinner, Bruce will announce that he is retiring. No one will believe him except for Cass, who will be clutching a slip of fabric with a Bat symbol under the table.

That night, a new Batman will be seen in Gotham. One who you never see coming until it’s too late, who is never caught on film, who is only spoken of in hushed whispers. He is a demon, they will say, not knowing that the girl beneath the cowl spends Saturday afternoons playing videogames with the older brother she single-handedly rose from the dead.

Dick will try to see Bruce. His siblings will try to stop him, but they will fail, because nothing can stop Dick Grayson. He will stand across from Bruce, and neither of them will know what to say.

“Not yours,” Cass will say solemnly, slipping her hand into Dick’s and turning away. They will leave. And still, Bruce will not call out.

He will leave Gotham the next morning.

[missmarveledsblog]

I gotcha cap ( Steve Rogers x Reader )

Summary: it wasn't lost on anyone that Steve was a technophobe, who wanted to gain a grasp of the modern world, it just didn't help the little infatuation he had on his teacher.

Warnings : none , fluffy, mutual pinning , idiots in love. this is 2 or 3 parts

If anything America's golden boy and one of Earth's most prolific heroes needed improvements on was ...well the technology. Even though he'd be out of the ice long enough, the modern inventions just were something he didn't get the hang of. Of course, he'd asked his fellow Avengers, bucky was just as clueless as he was so was Thor to be fair. Natasha just outright refused her only argument for the rejection was simple

" For my sanity and your safety "

Tony was a no-go for his safety. The kid well he did try but ended up more confused at the slang the kids were using these days needing maybe a whole new lesson.

The best was of course last, Y/n. the newest addition although she'd been there two years now. She was up there with Tony probably even better when it came to anything electronic. She was able to hack the billionaire, only being caught because she wanted to. The company she was working at wasn't fully what she thought but hey it's why she took the job. She was an independent investigator that well noticed the fast rise of a company that seemed too perfect. So she got a job jumping through the hurdles, using her charm and charisma to integrate into the company and earn their trust then slowly she began to uncover the seedy secret they tried so hard to keep away. The wannabes were trying to be Hydra 2.0 only they didn't expect this newbie, the new office pet to uncover it all and drag them down with the click of her keyboard. The rest was history, now here she was living in the compound working in the lab with Tony and Bruce getting them intel and making missions that bit easier. The daughter of a former doomsday prepper and the skills she acquired of being alone well it was all that made her qualify and her enhancements helped to although that was a new title when she was growing up it was mutant. her father was one to hence why he was so paranoid , so ready to live in a bunker for safety of his family only to be the problem.

Y/n was sweet, she was friendly and patient. She was also funny, bold not afraid to speak her mind, strong worker. The beauty was everything and more that Steve Rogers could want so that infatuation had him almost nervous, yes nervous to ask her to help him with his problem. Thanks to Natasha's meddling he didn't have to ask because she took it upon herself to do so for him. A rare day off here he stood at the door of the main living room watching her setting up the various machines on the coffee table. The smile on her face was so bright and warm when she turned it made Shakespeare's words make sense. The way that smile was like a summer day. She was just simply an angel of perfection in his eyes, one that made his old self, the man before the serum who could barely look a dame in the eye or one that made his words jumble or stumble and stutter in a normal conversation. Professionally he was ok although he was still nervous but he was able to communicate clearly. Now here he was for a private lesson in modern technology with a woman who could render him speechless. This was gonna be hell, he was sure of it. Just as sure he was gonna make a fool of himself.

" hey steve ... cap?" she called making him stand straight .

" yes , yep hey " he smiled although forced through the flush of his cheek , in the start of what would be a barrage of self beratement .. internally of course .

" you ready " she smiled looking down at the table slight fixing the things laptop , phone and game console ? .

" yes sorry nats making you do this " he sat near her not too close but thanks to his enhanced senses he was encase in her scent .

" she not making me do it , dont worry cap i got you " she laughed . " ok i know you can write a report on the computer" she asked .

" y-yeah i can do the report but i because it like already there , tony made sure it the only thing so i just click , type and send " he nodded rubbing back of his neck .

" what about texting ? " she asked .

" no really well sort of " he shrugged .

" ok well we can go over the basics, if you don't understand anything don't be afraid to tell me so we will start with the phone from functions to standard apps " she smiled pulling the box out . " here this is for you " she handed it over .

" you got me a phone " .

"yeah, and I got you this ... open it " a mischievous smile on her face as she handed it over. Opened the paper and saw the blue red and white stars. It was like his shield but like a phone case. " I was gonna get you one online but I thought I'd make one a lot more sturdy and super soldier-friendly i got bucky to test it out in the testing phase".

Steve was speechless for maybe longer than he should of and for a new reason. Almost bashful looking down at it in his hand. So touched by the fact she took the time to craft and test this. The fact she took time to personalize it just for him.

" this is amazing thank you really " .

" no need to thank me cap i gotcha " she winked making his cheeks heat up.

The two sat while she slowly helped him set up the new phone, patiently step by step guiding him through what to do. In that time the space between the two, closer and closer while looking down at this device. The way she explained it to him and if or when he got confused she would show him again and again til he did. At one point the team stood at the door out of view of the two all sharing a knowing look. Peter took a few pictures maybe one to show them later in life. The way her attention was solely on the man although she could sense the extra eye and sure that the man at her side could feel them too.

" hey wanna continue this in my office" she smiled softly .

" yeah let's get this stuff " he stood quickly grabbing the different things scattered around them almost dropping them in his quest. Walking side by side and out of prying eyes they got to continue the lessons. He took a look around her office, her personal space. Little knick-knacks, pictures that all screamed her . Then when he looked at the computer slightly embarrassed in his own knowing how simple everyone had made it for him, how Tony made things easy from comms and devices nothing complicated more things only with a button or two. All the different little pictures or icons he recently learned scattered about. Now he knew he wasn't going to be some tech wizard but at least he wouldn't be clueless. More and more time he was less nervous he still was to a certain degree.

Weeks and weeks turned into months of lessons scattered between missions, meetings and public events. Although his knowledge of this was rusty, it was also still a vast improvement. Their communication improved and made her giggle when she would see at the end of each text -steve rogers. She tried to express that he didn't need to sign off on messages but she found it endearing in a way and completely, utterly adorable. She looked forward to the lesson, being in such a close space as Steven Grant Rogers was like a dream.

The blonde adonis was maybe the first and only crush she had had in such a long time. From his smile to his muscles that strained against the fabric. From his sweet and soft manner of Steve, to the strong protective manner and commanding presence that was Captain America it was virtually impossible not to fall for the man. Often thinking would he be Steve or cap between the sheets til she berated herself for thinking of a coworker, a teammate and a friend in such a way but on the same page she couldn't help the thought be in her mind.

next part

[havenesc]

i am THINKING, i have THOUGHTS....

dude ranch Jason where he goes to be a cowboy for like 6 months in wyoming. is it to heal? is it to run? who is to say

[rmbunnie]

Something kinda tasteless about the way that alongside the concerns of "Batman needs someone to rein in his aggression/edginess" (mostly a meta concern,) "Robin is a symbol of undying hope right alongside Batman, Superman, and the police system," and "now that the thought's crossed my mind I think being Robin would be pretty sweet actually," one of Tim's points for why he should be Robin at the end of A Lonely Place of Dying is "we need to show the criminals of Gotham that they can't just kill Robin and expect to get away with it!" Because. They can. That's exactly what happened.

Using that line of reasoning, Tim makes the claim that the idea of Jaybin's life as disposable and inconsequential is heinous and bad, his killing something impermissible, but instead of disproving said idea they allow it to become true and devote their energy to making sure it doesn't become widely known as such. By covering his death up, they actually are permitting his murder to go unaddressed and deeming it acceptable, even taking away the opportunity for it to be consequential to anyone outside of Bruce's inner circle by not spreading the news. As much as we say "oh Bruce was a great dad because losing Jason crushed him" and "he almost considered trying to kill the Joker one time," he in all tangible areas did not do anything about Jason's death. Setting aside the question of killing the Joker or not, it's still shown in Batman Year 3 that Bruce's reaction to Jason's death in the time til Tim showed up was to hide away everything Jason owned and carry on with business as usual, a little angrier. Bruce didn't make any changes or actually evaluate anything in a significant way after the warehouse and Jason's death didn't warrant any tangible consequence, that's evident from reading the comic. I know some may disagree, and I acknowledge the room for interpretation, but in order to discuss Tim's reason we have to concede that it is explicitly written into this specific comic as something Bruce and Tim both recognize as fact, because it serves as the foundation that this reason is built on: there is good reason for the criminals to believe there would no punishment for killing Robin based on the actions Bruce did or didn't take in response. The concern about the public realizing there are no consequences for killing Robin wouldn't be reasonable if it wasn't true, if there actually were.

While they recognize that Jason's death came to pass largely without consequence, the fact itself is less of an issue to both Bruce and Tim than letting criminals actually find out that it doesn't have consequence. They know it's unjust, the notion that Jason can be killed without repercussion (and in making an effort to minimize his murder confirm it to be true,) but their concern isn't for what actually happened to Jason or the lack of proper response. At least on the vigilante side of things, the problem is public perception and continuing to uphold an image of Batman as just and diligent while permitting him to ignore injustice against those close to him. There's no efforts taken to actually disprove the idea that killing Robin would lack impact, what Tim proposes is just making it harder to prove right.

I think the best way to word what comes across tasteless for me here (aside from the side commentary on the unstoppable might of the institution of police and how it's an exemplar of heroism) is that beyond Tim's victim-blaming of Jason during his stint as Robin, (discussed in more depth by people who can word it better than me,) in the base text of a Lonely Place of Dying, it is foundational to the initial premise of Tim as Robin that part of his motive for being Robin hinges on accepting what happened to Jason as something that cannot be allowed in their pursuit of justice or go unaddressed for reasons completely unrelated to the actual harm, and then intentionally erasing the event and the way in which it was allowed and did go unaddressed. No matter how much it's claimed in later comics that Bruce was faultless and Jason doomed himself, Tim's Robin came to be at least in part (in-universe) as a cover-up for the lack of action taken about Jason's death, and by extension as an effort to overwrite his time as Robin and an individual entirely. And thought it wasn't the way his character viewed it, Tim wasn't passively complicit in it or going along with a poor grieving man, the intentional and deliberate erasure of Jason as a murder victim and the injustice of his posthumous treatment was part of his opening pitch.

[navree]

there's a lot of reasons why that titans show wanting to do batfam specific arcs, especially death in the family/under the red hood, flopped so hard each time, but one of the biggest is that they basically brought jason back after, like, a fucking month and it basically negates the entire thing

[sweetteaanddragons]

I have been thinking lately about a universe where Bruce Wayne killed the Joker.

I want to be clear here, since there are so many longstanding debates on this topic: I do not think Bruce Wayne should kill the Joker. I have just been wondering what would happen if the circumstances aligned in such a way that he did.

And to be clear on a related, yet slightly different topic: when I say I have been wondering about what if Bruce Wayne killed the Joker, I do not mean as the Batman. I mean Bruce "Brucie" Wayne.

Maybe it's kind of an accident? Like, he definitely did intend to hit the Joker, but he's Brucie right now, so he's trying not to look like he knows what he's doing while still doing enough damage to keep the Joker from killing someone, and meanwhile the Joker makes just the wrong move and -

And here we are. Brucie just killed the Joker.

Bruce's reaction here is one thing; he has his one rule for a reason, he's just broken it, he's determined to turn himself in -

His family's reaction is a whole different story. How does Cass feel about this?

How does Jason? Bruce has killed the Joker, just like he wanted, but it wasn't for him, not really, and -

And meanwhile, this happens in front of, say, a gala full of people, so now all of Gotham gets to react to it too.

Average Gothamite, seeing the words BRUCE WAYNE, JOKER, and KILLED in the same headline: OH, NO.

Average Gothamite, once they've processed the order those words are actually in: . . . I did not have that on this year's bingo card.

The city's most famous mass murderer has just been publicly killed by the city's biggest employer/philanthropist/source of tabloid harmless nonsense! Three days before Brucie was making tabloid headlines by tripping into a fountain and somehow losing his shirt in the process! Two weeks before, the newspaper was running a retrospective on the Wayne murders and what donation Brucie was making to help the families of victims this year! The article mentioned how one of his adopted sons had also tragically become a murder victim!

Now this has happened, and Bruce is having a breakdown over breaking his one rule, and the rest of Gotham just assumes that this is because poor Brucie thinks this somehow makes him like the man who killed his parents. They send a huge outpouring of support his way. This in no way helps Bruce's actual breakdown.

Ninety percent of Gotham is sure Brucie didn't actually mean to kill the Joker, and pretty much a hundred percent of them support him whether he meant to do it or not. No one wants to have anything to do with prosecuting this mess. Bruce is trying to make it as clear as possible that he will fully cooperate with the justice system and meanwhile an entire gala full of people is suddenly acting like they could in no way have possibly witnessed events that took place ten feet in front of their faces. Did Bruce kill the Joker? Is the officer sure? That doesn't seem like him. Maybe the Joker just tripped on his own. Marble floors, you know. Very slippery.

[mckinlily]

Plot armor but it’s Bruce Wayne’s wealth.

Bruce is one of the richest men in the world. Bruce does not want to be one of the richest men in world.

He starts by implementing high starting salaries and full health care coverages for all levels at Wayne Enterprises. This in vastly improves retention and worker productivity, and WE profits soar. He increases PTO, grants generous parental and family leave, funds diversity initiatives, boosts salaries again. WE is ranked “#1 worker-friendly corporation”, and productively and profits soar again.

Ok, so clearly investing his workers isn’t the profit-destroying doomed strategy his peers claim it is. Bruce is going to keep doing it obviously (his next initiative is to ensure all part-time and contractors get the same benefits and pay as full time employees), but he is going to have to find a different way to dump his money.

But you know what else is supposed to be prohibitively expensive? Green and ethical initiatives. Yes, Bruce can do that. He creates and fund a 10 year plan to covert all Wayne facilities to renewable energy. He overhauls all factories to employ the best environmentally friendly practices and technologies. He cuts contracts with all suppliers that engage in unethical employment practices and pays for other to upgrade their equipment and facilities to meet WE’s new environmental and safety requirements. He spares no expense.

Yeah, Wayne Enterprises is so successful that they spin off an entire new business arm focused on helping other companies convert to environmentally friendly and safe practices like they did in an efficient, cost effective, successful way.

Admittedly, investing in his own company was probably never going to be the best way to get rid of his wealth. He slashes his own salary to a pittance (god knows he has more money than he could possibly know what to do with already) and keeps investing the profits back into the workers, and WE keeps responding with nearly terrifying success.

So WE is a no-go, and Bruce now has numerous angry billionaires on his back because they’ve been claiming all these measures he’s implementing are too expensive to justify for decades and they’re finding it a little hard to keep the wool over everyone’s eyes when Idiot Softheart Bruice Wayne has money spilling out his ears. BUT Bruce can invest in Gotham. That’ll go well, right?

Gotham’s infrastructure is the OSHA anti-Christ and even what little is up to code is constantly getting destroyed by Rogue attacks. Surely THAT will be a money sink.

Except the only non-corrupt employer in Gotham city is….Wayne Enterprises. Or contractors or companies or businesses that somehow, in some way or other, feed back to WE. Paying wholesale for improvement to Gotham’s infrastructure somehow increases WE’s profits.

Bruce funds a full system overhaul of Gotham hospital (it’s not his fault the best administrative system software is WE—he looked), he sets up foundations and trusts for shelters, free clinics, schools, meal plans, day care, literally anything he can think of.

Gotham continues to be a shithole. Bruce Wayne continues to be richer than god against his Batman-ingrained will.

Oh, and Bruice Wayne is no longer viewed as solely a spoiled idiot nepo baby. The public responds by investing in WE and anything else he owns, and stop doing this, please.

Bruce sets up a foundation to pay the college tuition of every Gotham citizen who applies. It’s so successful that within 10 years, donations from previous recipients more than cover incoming need, and Bruce can’t even donate to his own charity.

But by this time, Bruce has children. If he can’t get rid of his wealth, he can at least distribute it, right?

Except Dick Grayson absolutely refuses to receive any of his money, won’t touch his trust fund, and in fact has never been so successful and creative with his hacking skills as he is in dumping the money BACK on Bruce. Jason died and won’t legally resurrect to take his trust fund. Tim has his own inherited wealth, refuses to inherit more, and in fact happily joins forces with Dick to hack accounts and return whatever money he tries to give them. Cass has no concept of monetary wealth and gives him panicked, overwhelmed eyes whenever he so much as implies offering more than $100 at once. Damian is showing worrying signs of following in his precious Richard’s footsteps, and Babs barely allows him to fund tech for the Clocktower. At least Steph lets him pay for her tuition and uses his credit card to buy unholy amounts of Batburger. But that is hardly a drop in the ocean of Bruce’s wealth. And she won’t even accept a trust fund of only one million.

Jason wins for best-worst child though because he currently runs a very lucrative crime empire. And although he pours the vast, vast majority of his profits back into Crime Alley, whenever he gets a little too rich for his tastes, he dumps the money on Bruce. At this point, Bruce almost wishes he was being used for money laundering because then he’s at least not have the money.

So children—generous, kindhearted, stubborn till the day they die the little shits, children—are also out.

Bruce was funding the Justice League. But then finances were leaked, and the public had an outcry over one man holding so much sway over the world’s superheroes (nevermind Bruce is one of those superheroes—but the public can’t know that). So Bruce had to do some fancy PR trickery, concede to a policy of not receiving a majority of funds from one individual, and significantly decrease his contributions because no one could match his donations.

At his wits end, Bruce hires a team of accounts to search through every crinkle and crevice of tax law to find what loopholes or shortcuts can be avoided in order to pay his damn taxes to the MAX.

The results are horrifying. According to the strictest definition of the law, the government owes him money.

Bruce burns the report, buries any evidence as deeply as he can, and organizes a foundation to lobby for FAR higher taxation of the upper class.

All this, and Wayne Enterprises is happily chugging along, churning profit, expanding into new markets, growing in the stock market, and trying to force the credit and proportionate compensation on their increasingly horrified CEO.

Bruce Wayne is one of the richest men in the world. Bruce Wayne will never not be one of the richest men in the world.

But by GOD is he trying.