#and then Damian grabs a knife

[brucedefender4eva]

Dick: *showing off a cute childhood picture to the family* Oh this one is my favorite! Bruce looks so surprised here, haha! I busted into the bathroom and he almost screamed! It was so funny.

Damian: I can’t imagine Baba getting scared from something so… menial

Jason: Shit was a lot different back then kid. I once scared the old man when. I once scared him in the Batcave when he was examining a gun from a case. Weirdly enough he didn’t get mad at me. I’m pretty sure there’s a picture of that too, it’s in here somewhere. *starts flipping through a photo album*

Tim: *grabbing his own photo album* I noticed that! Sometimes Bruce gets pretty weird and startled easily. Still haven’t figured it out… I bet Steph also had a bunch of stories of the same thing

Bruce: *walk in to the living room* What are you all doing? Hopefully not causing any trouble.

Dick: *grinning widely and pulling Bruce to sit down near him* Nah, not this time. We’ve just been going through a lot of old pictures! See! *shows Bruce the picture*

Bruce: *squints at picture before frowning* Oh, I remember that. I was in the middle of a suicide attempt and you caught me

Dick: WHAT! *coughing and sputtering*

Bruce: Yes, see the knife by the bathtub? And the bottle of pills near the toilet? Dropped them when you busted in. I thought you knew?

Jason: *absolutely shocked* Pops… what the hell???

Bruce: *glances over at the picture Jason found* That one too. I was going to turn the gun on myself.

Jason: *looks down at picture in horror*

Bruce: *grabs the photo album from Tim’s hand and flips through it* About half of these are interrupted attempts lol. The other albums probably have more. *shrugs*

Damian: *teary eyed* Baba…

Bruce: *already moving Damian onto his lap and hugging him tightly* Oh no sweetie, it’s okay. I’m… I’m trying to get better. I’m sorry I really thought you all knew…

Tim: *hides his face in Bruce’s shoulder while hugging him* I should’ve noticed. I’m sorry…

Bruce: No Tim, this is never and will never be your fault. It’s not your job to take care of me, even if I did push it on you when we first met. None of you have done anything wrong.

Jason: *voice breaking* B-but…

Dick: W-we could’ve… *tearing up*

Bruce: Done absolutely nothing. I was in a dark place long before I met any of you, even being with Alfred didn’t help.

Dick: I still can’t believe I never noticed… w-what happened to you after I left? After Jason died?

Bruce: Let’s not talk about that, it’ll only make us all upset.

Jason: *flipping through photo album and scrutinizing every photo* Y-you look so gaunt in these… I’ve never noticed…

Bruce: *chuckles awkwardly and slowly pulls album out of Jason’s hands* Yeah, that’s what an eating disorder will do to you. And coke…*mutters*

Tim: Fuck…

Dick: What was that last part?

Bruce: Nothing, anyways… let’s stop talking about this, okay? I made brownies.

Damian: *still sniffling* Okay Baba… can we have ice cream too?

Bruce: *chuckles softly, smiling fondly at all his sons* Of course, cmon, before Alfred finds out.

[luv-lock]

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤDAD, I HAVE A DATEㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Dad Batboys x Mom Reader

☆⁠ SYNOPSIS : When your daughter have a date.

☆⁠ CHARACTERS : Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Male Barbara Gordon, Male Cassandra Cain, Male Stephanie Brown.

☆⁠ NOTES : English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

— BRUCE WAYNE ⋆

He doesn't even blink when your daughter says it. He just slowly closes his laptop. Leans back in his chair like the Mafia boss he is. Steeples his fingers. Lowers his voice to death itself.

“Name. Age. Father's net worth. Medical records.”

“Dad, he’s not a criminal—”

“Everyone is a criminal. Especially if they want to hold your hand.”

You peek in, holding your coffee. “Let her live, Bruce.”

He doesn’t even look at you. “Did you run background on him?”

“I helped her pick her lip gloss.”

“She wore lip gloss?”

“I’M WEARING LIP GLOSS RIGHT NOW,” your daughter yells. “THIS IS A THREAT TO NO ONE.”

Bruce’s eyes flash. “Alfred!”

“Yes, Master Wayne?”

“Prepare the interrogation room.”

“Absolutely not,” you and your daughter chorus.

Bruce follows her to the door like a shadow. You physically have to grab his tie.

“If he touches you, call me,” he whispers to her.

You sigh. “She has a phone. She’ll call.”

“She has me. I will break my rule if I have to.”

— DICK GRAYSON ⋆

He looks like he’s been stabbed in the chest. “You’re… dating?”

“Yeah, dad. He’s picking me up at—”

“WHO IS HE?! I’m cooler than him, right? Wait—WAIT—how long have you liked him?!”

He’s spiraling. He’s actually spinning in place.

“Oh my god, you’re so grown up,” he wails. “I REMEMBER WHEN YOU HAD A LITTLE BAT ONESIE.”

“Dad.”

“And now you’re going on a date and leaving your old man to die alone in this empty house—”

“You’re 38.”

“I’M PRACTICALLY 100.”

He gives the poor boy a hug when he shows up. Smiling. Overly friendly. Until he leans in and whispers:

“If you make her cry, no one will ever find your body.”

“Dad!”

Dick’s still smiling. “Haha! Just dad jokes!”

— JASON TODD ⋆

“Date?”

He says it like the word is foreign. Like it offends him.

“Date,” your daughter repeats. “Like, a boy. Like, a human male.”

Jason slowly lifts his book. Reads a line.

“Dead,” he mutters.

You sigh. “Please don’t kill anyone, Jay.”

“Just the boy.”

You whisper, “You’re being dramatic.”

“He’s seventeen. I was seventeen once.”

You blink. “Exactly.”

Jason slams the book shut. “She can’t date a criminal.”

“She’s not. She’s dating a nice kid who volunteers at the animal shelter.”

Jason stares. Unmoving. “He’s hiding something. Nobody’s that nice. He probably sells catnip meth behind PetSmart.”

“What the hell is catnip meth.”

“I DON’T KNOW, BUT I’M GONNA FIND OUT.”

When the poor boy rings the doorbell, Jason opens it cleaning his gun.

“Dad.”

Jason just smile, “What? I’m cleaning it. With love.”

You're tired, “That’s not how love works.”

“It is exactly how love works.”

— DAMIAN WAYNE ⋆

“No.”

He says it the moment your daughter opens her mouth.

She hasn’t even said “date.” She said “I met a boy—”

“No.”

“Fath—”

“No.”

“MOM—”

You’re sipping wine. “I already met him. He’s sweet.”

Damian turns to you slowly. “You encouraged this?”

You nod. “He brought me a latte.”

Damian growls. “He’s manipulating you.”

You smirk. “It was pumpkin spice.”

Damian looks betrayed. “You sold our daughter’s heart for pumpkin spice?”

“Your daughter has free will,” you say, shrugging.

“She’s my daughter. She has no will. And she will get a lover after my death.”

Damian goes to the date. In the car.

He drives them.

And sits at the next table over.

Wearing sunglasses.

The waiter knows not to speak to him.

You and your daughter both text him to leave. He sends back a selfie with a breadstick and a knife.

“Enjoy your ravioli. I am watching.”

— BARRY GORDON ⋆

Barry’s typing. He’s calm. Composed. Swiveling in his chair like the well-adjusted adult man he is.

Then your daughter says:

“Hey Dad, I’m going on a date. Mom knows.”

“Cool, cool—” crack

The keyboard breaks in half.

“…Did you just snap your keyboard in half?”

“No.”

“You literally did that in front of me.”

“I can replace it.”

You lean against the door. “Barry—”

“I can replace HIM.”

Immediately pulls up the boy’s entire digital history. School records, search history, what kind of memes he likes.

“This boy is... basic.”

“Dad—”

“His Spotify Wrapped has ‘Imagine Dragons’ in the top three.”

“DAD—”

“I raised you better than this.”

You just smile, “Barry, he’s a good kid.”

He let out a deep sigh “Fine. I’ll just hack his location and monitor the date in peace.”

“YOU’RE GONNA WHAT???”

Ten minutes into the date:

Barry texts you a screenshot of the boy’s heart rate.

“STOP MONITORING HIS FITBIT, BARRY.”

“He’s sweating too much. He’s hiding something.”

— CASSIAN CAIN ⋆

Your daughter says she’s going on a date.

Cassian doesn’t say a word.

He just blinks. Once.

Then gets up.

Leaves the room.

“…Mom?” your daughter whispers.

You’re already sighing. “He’s just going to go watch the boy from a rooftop.”

She's is pissed “No he’s not.”

Cut to Cassian, in full black ops gear, perched like a gargoyle 200 feet away.

He doesn’t speak until the boy comes to pick her up.

And then—

The door opens.

The boy sees him.

Cassian does not say a word. He just stares.

And your daughter, behind him, whisper-hissing:

“DAD. STOP IT. MOM. HE’S NOT EVEN BLINKING.”

Cassian waits until the date’s over. Then signs,

“He looked at you too long. I should break his pinky.”

“DAD.”

He gets home and cuddles into your lap like a huge panther of a man. Says nothing. You stroke his hair.

“Proud of you for not stabbing him, honey.”

Cassian: tiny grunts of love.

— STEPHEN BROWN ⋆

“WHAT?!”

Stephen shrieks so loud he drops his sandwich.

“A DATE? WITH A BOY?!”

You already knew how dramatic he was going to be. “Yes. You knew this was coming. You literally told me last week you saw her texting him.”

“I thought it was a friend thing! I didn’t know she was gonna leave us!”

He flings himself on the couch like a dramatic theater kid.

“She’s gone. She’s gone forever. My little sunshine. My jellybean. The light of my life.”

“Dad I’m LITERALLY GOING TO OLIVE GARDEN.”

“She’s going to Italy, she’s going to be a woman, and I’ll be here in my robe, crying into garlic bread.”

“You’re not even wearing a robe.”

“I’LL BUY ONE.”

He takes selfies with her before she leaves.

“Remember me when you’re married with children. Tag me in your memories.”

Stephen takes a Polaroid and slides it in her purse. “For your wallet. In case you forget I existed.”

He’s waiting by the door in a pink hoodie with glitter on it.

Hands her a “welcome back” balloon.

“You survived your first date! And so did I!”

“Dad, you texted me 47 times during the movie.”

“I WAS BEING SUPPORTIVE.”

— MASTERLIST ☆

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[yannawayne]

not a weapon but a person—capable of loving and being loved.

SYNOPSIS: You get kidnapped and Damian snaps. TAGS: Graphic Depictions Of Violence! Genderneutral! Blood, Hurt/Comfort, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Kidnapping, Childhood Trauma, My Mother is the Worst Woman Alive and I'm her Favorite Son, Damian is Eighteen.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ♱

A heavy thud. Ragged breaths. Then the sound of footsteps.

The same hands that had ruthlessly beat your kidnappers to a pulp—the ones that had pulverized flesh with blood splattered across his knuckles, the ones that had heard the crack of bones beneath his grip, the ones that bore the scars of countless cuts and stabs—now traced your cheek with a featherlight touch.

"Beloved."

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ♱

YOUR PALMS WERE PRESSED tightly against your eyes, wrists raw and burning from the rope that had bound them just minutes ago. Sobs slipped from your lips, eyes bloodshot, and mouth parched dry.

The rotting smell of the warehouse was an assault on your senses—an acrid mix of trash, harsh chemicals, and the faint tang of gunfire that lingered in the air.

There was a hushing in your ear as you leaned against a cloaked figure—Batman. Bruce. 

His hand rubbed at your back, firm and steady, a grounding presence amid the chaos. His cape, dark and imposing, wrapped around you like a shield, blocking out the violence unfolding just in front of you.

Shadows danced erratically on the walls as Robin moved with lethal precision. Bodies fell unconscious, thudding heavily against the concrete floor. Blood splattered. Screams echoed. Each punch landed with a sickening crunch, bones breaking. Crates and debris were scattered haphazardly, wood and concrete slamming onto the floor. 

Damian couldn't see anything but red.

His vision was tunneled, focused solely on the next target, the next blow, the next scream. 

A swift roundhouse kick sent one assailant crashing into a stack of crates, the wood splintering under the impact. One punch connected with a jaw, the sickening crunch of bone breaking echoing through the air. Blood sprayed on his fist. Another one rushed toward him, brandishing a knife, but he disarmed the man with a swift twist of the wrist, jamming the blade into the attacker's palm. The man screamed, clutching his arm as red streaked his skin.

Damian's eyes flickered with a dark satisfaction as he watched the thug stumble backward, clutching at the wound.

One last man remained. One who had lunged at him from behind, grappling onto his back. Damian scowled and surged backward, driving both himself and his attacker into the wall with bone-crushing force. The man's grip loosened, a pained gasp escaping his lips as the air was knocked out of him.

"Fool," Damian spat, his voice dripping with venom. "Do you have any idea who you're dealing with?"

The thug whimpered, trying to scramble away, but Damian was relentless. He twisted sharply, dislodging the assailant and slamming an elbow into his ribs. The man crumpled against the wall, clutching his side, his eyes wide with fear and pain.

"You think you can touch those I care for and get away with it?" Damian growled. He didn't give the thug a moment to recover. He swung a powerful fist into the guy's face, the impact sending a spray of blood and teeth into the air. 

"F-Fuck you, man!" The man yanked a gun from his waistband, but before he could even line up a shot, Damian’s foot kicked out, sending the weapon flying through the air. The gun clattered against the concrete with a deafening clang. With a snarl, Damian lunged forward, grabbing the thug by the collar and slamming him into the ground.

"H-Hey! Mercy! Mercy! I'm a-already down!" the assailant wailed, his hands clawing at Robin's uniform in a desperate plea. "The Bat don’t kill! You—you ain't gonna kill me!"

Damian's expression hardened, his eyes narrowing as his voice dropped to a low, menacing growl.

"I'm not Batman," he spat, the tone amplified and darkened by the modulator. "Every breath you take is a mercy I choose to grant. By the time I'm finished, you'll be begging for death."

He raised his fist, the tension in his muscles coiling like a spring ready to snap. The thug’s eyes widened in terror, his pleas growing frantic as he braced for the blow. However, just as Damian’s fist was about to land, a hand clamped down on his shoulder, grabbing onto his hand with a vice-like grip. Before he could react, Batman—Bruce—had tackled him, pinning him firmly against his chest. 

“Robin,” Batman’s voice was firm, concern barely concealed. “That’s enough.”

Damian's struggle was fierce, his body thrashing under his father’s strength as he roared in fury.

“Let me go!” he screamed, his voice raw with anger. “I’m going to kill him for what he did to them!”

The anger engulfed Damian like a stormy ocean, dragging him beneath its violent waves. Visions of his mother’s face, his grandfather’s form, and accusing shadows surged from the depths, all condemning him. Damian’s cries erupted into a raw, guttural scream, gradually dissolving into ragged gasps as he battled the relentless tide.

Though Bruce had shaped him into a hero, a beacon of justice, and his family had offered him a fragile semblance of belonging, Damian was still his mother’s son.

The violence and anger roiling within him were like roots twisted deep within his soul. There was not a thing that could purge the primal rage and pain that had taken root before his first breath.

When he finally broke through the surface, baptized in blood and weighed down by sins that clung to him like chains, he sought you out with an urgent, almost desperate need.

A heavy thud. Ragged breaths. Then the sound of footsteps.

The same hands that had ruthlessly beat your kidnappers to a pulp—the ones that had pulverized flesh with blood splattered across his knuckles, the ones that had heard the crack of bones beneath his grip, the ones that bore the scars of countless cuts and stabs—now traced your cheek with a featherlight touch.

"Beloved."

Your hands were carefully peeled away from your eyes, and you met soft emerald eyes through a veil of tears. His hands moved to unlatch his cape, the soft fabric pooling around your form. His lips, speaking in his mother tongue, murmured a soothing litany of comfort, Arabic endearments flowing like silk. He pressed your head against his chest and you found refuge in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. 

Bruce watched the scene with a pensive look. His son's body had dwarfed you, broad shoulders and strong muscles enveloping your form like a shield. His head was tucked into your hair, his hands raking all over your tense and sweaty skin.

Damian had momentarily shed the hardened exterior he so often wore—a soldier with a heart that, despite its armor, occasionally revealed cracks. This was a side of him that often surprised people.

Because Damian Wayne was the farthest thing from soft.

He was all sharp edges. Poisonous, scalding words that could sear through the thickest armor of patience. Rough, nearly violent in his touch, like a blade pressed against skin. There was no gentleness in his movements, no softness in his gestures, only the relentless precision of a trained killer.

From the earliest moments he could walk, his life was an unending series of tests, each more grueling than the last. Each cut and bruise was a lesson. Failure was met with harsh punishment, success with silent approval. Affection and praise were as rare as mercy. 

The League’s doctrine was ingrained in him: emotions were vulnerabilities, attachments were liabilities, and loyalty was owed only to the mission and the League. His purpose in the League of Assassins was clear—to be the perfect instrument of their will, a living embodiment of their principles. 

Emotion was his enemy, a weakness to be purged.  He was taught to suppress his feelings, to turn them off like a switch. Pain was an illusion, fear a phantom to be banished. He learned to compartmentalize his thoughts, locking away his humanity in the deepest recesses of his mind. 

By the time he reached ten, he was a finely honed instrument of death.

A living weapon in a world that knew no peace.

It had taken Bruce eight grueling years to begin undoing the damage. And even then, he had barely scratched the surface.

Then there was you.

The trembling, warm-faced student Damian had introduced during his senior year—his partner for a science project, he said. 

At first, the interactions were subtle—a fleeting glance here, a hesitant smile there. But as time went on, it became impossible to ignore the way your presence began to soften the sharp edges of Damian's demeanor.

Bruce had seen you both fall for each other over the months. And he saw hope. 

You were the opposite of every lesson Damian has ever been taught.

To him, you were soft, in every sense. Soft movements, soft features, soft voice. Everything about you exuded comfort.

You made something he had always pushed down and shut away come to the surface.

You made him feel things—things he should not.

When you touched him with your soft hands, everything in him burned. The gentle brush of your fingers against his skin ignited a searing heat, a raw and unfamiliar longing that clawed violently at the walls he had worked so hard to maintain. Each touch chipped away at the concrete barriers of his training, breaking them down and leaving him exposed, aching for something he couldn’t quite name.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ♱

Mania. Drake had called it, a wild obsession of his that could consume and devour.

Damian's arms encircled you like a lifeline, holding you close as though he feared you might slip away. His lips brushed against your temple, warm and tender, while his biceps pressed firmly under your chest, anchoring you in his embrace. The air was thick with the mingled scents of sweat, blood, and the lingering residue of fear. 

And yet, amidst these odors, there was an underlying, almost imperceptible hint of Damian’s cologne—Arabian oudh. It was rich and smoky, with notes of aged wood, a faint earthy sweetness, and subtle undertones of leather and spice.

You buried your face into the crook of his neck, the fabric of his suit brushing against your cheek.

A Crush. Todd had chalked it up to puppy love, something that would eventually fade with time.

He lifted you effortlessly from the floor, his strength evident in his smooth, controlled movements. The way he adjusted his hold with such care to ensure your comfort spoke louder than any words could.

Warmth enveloped you—Damian had always run hotter, like a human furnace. On sweltering days, his clinginess (no matter how much he denied it) had been a nuisance, his heat making you feel as if your skin might melt off. But now, that same warmth was a comforting embrace, a welcome shield.

Infatuation. Grayson had suggested, thinking it was just a fleeting, intense passion. But there was something deeper in the way he looked at you, something that felt permanent and unshakeable.

“I am here. I am here, beloved," he spoke to you lowly. "It's alright now."

Love. His father called it.

In an instant, everything seemed to collapse around you. Tears welled up and streamed down your cheeks as you sobbed into his chest, each shudder of your body sending waves of anguish through him. Damian’s heart twisted painfully at the sight of you. 

He has seen suffering—he has inflicted suffering. But this was different. Your pain was a torment he was helpless to alleviate. 

Face twisted in guilt, he pulled you tighter against him, as though he could hold the world’s pain at bay if he just held you close enough.

A hand tapped at his shoulder, and he flinched, turning to see his father.

“The Batmobile is just by the docks. We can—”

“They're in shock,” Damian scowled. the fire back in his eyes. “Do you honestly believe they're in any state to be moved at this moment?”

Bruce’s gaze was firm. “Damian, we don’t have time to—”

“They need to be stabilized first,” Damian cut in sharply, his tone brooking no argument. He turned abruptly, striding towards the exit. “If you want them to survive this, we need to take care of them properly, not rush them into a car. I shall be outside.”

Without waiting for a response, Damian moved swiftly, the clatter of his boots echoing as he stepped into the cool night air with you. Once the warehouse door closed behind him, he turned his full attention back to you, his hand gently brushing your tear-streaked face. 

He moved to press his forehead gently against yours, the warmth of his skin meeting yours in a tender connection. He could offer no verbal comfort anymore; words seemed woefully inadequate. Your cries gradually subsided as you drew comfort from his presence.

Love.

He lifted his hand to the side of his face, pressing a button. As his mask retracted, his eyes met yours. Damian knew that more than anything else, you loved his eyes.

Time and again, you found yourself drawn to them, unable to tear your gaze away. They were hypnotic—an exquisite blend of emerald green, green as vibrant as the leather cover of his sketchbook, flecked with gold and streaked with brown paint.

His eyes were windows to his soul, offering the only genuine glimpse into the depths of his emotions. In them, you could see his anger burning like a stormy sea, joy dancing like sunlight on rippling water, embarrassment flitting like a shadow, and pain etched as deep as his scars.

At times, his eyes grew gentle, revealing something much softer—something that made your heart swell and your knees feel weak. A love so pure and unexpected that it could melt the coldest of hearts.

Damian Wayne was the farthest thing from soft.

But in these soft, fragile moments he shared with you, where his heart beat in sync with yours, Damian found an unexpected calm. It was in these rare interludes, away from the brutality and darkness that defined his world, that he could truly be himself.

Here, he was not a weapon but a person—capable of loving and being loved.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ♱

ao3: yenwayne

NOTE: I want to delve into the line I wrote: 'Damian is still his mother’s son.'

It's just to show his trauma, I despise Talia with all my guts.

Talia's control over Damian is a textbook example of manipulative conditioning at its most extreme. In psychological development, early experiences and parental influence are crucial in shaping one's self-concept. From his earliest days, Damian was deprived of a normal childhood. His personality, thoughts, and desires have all been sculpted by the League of Assassins from day one.

His anger, protectiveness, and sense of duty are manifestations of this—a child raised to be a killer, now struggling with the fragments of a humanity that was never fully allowed to blossom.

I'm not saying he hasn't changed!!! He has turned into so much more than the weapon they intended him to be. He is genuinely good. But the impact of such deep-seated trauma cannot be easily overlooked or resolved. It’s not something that can simply be swept under the rug or fixed overnight.

So, this was my attempt at capturing his character! I’m very open to constructive criticism since I’m new to the fandom. Please be kind and gentle with your feedback :)

[niwaart]

FAMILY WITHOUT LIGHT

[#part1 #part2 #part3 #part4]

Dick panicked, he gripped his phone tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force of his grip.

《This number is unreachable, please try again later.》

Dick let out a scream of anger and impatience, he had been trying to call Y/N for over 5 hours, just to get an answer. Why did she leave the house?… All this happened when he was in his Nightwing costume doing a normal nighttime mission after tying up criminals, a newspaper with Bruce’s picture caught his attention, Dick wondered what new drama the journalists were talking about this time, as soon as he grabbed the newspaper he felt like the air was being sucked out of him. It took him over a minute to process what was being said…

##Bruce Wayne and Y/N Wayne divorced after more than 15 years.##

No... that's a lie, just another rumor, it can't be true, maybe Bruce doesn't care about Y/N but Y/N wouldn't leave the house... after all he saw her love for Damian and Tim, and how she cared for them... so this is just a rumor... right?....

Dick took the newspaper with him and quickly ran to his apartment... He needed to make sure.. He had to get to his apartment to call Y/N.. She would tell him the truth, reassure him, tell him that everything was okay.... As soon as he got to his apartment window, he opened it and entered after entering the access code. His dog Haley approached him, he gave her a few pats before he reached his phone and called Y/N... But she didn't answer his calls.... He tried and tried and tried... But no answer... Could it be true?... Did Y/N leave the house?... Why?....

He was going to call Bruce but he was mad at him for not stopping Y/N from leaving and that he might be the reason Y/N left. So he decided to call Alfred who immediately answered, "Mr. Dick, how may I help you?" "Hello Alfred... Sorry to bother you now... The thing is... I..." Dick hesitated... He was afraid to hear the answer...

“I just called Y/N and she didn’t answer… so I was wondering if everything was okay…” Dick answered, praying with all his might that there was an excuse other than the divorce… “Oh… Mr. Dick… I don’t know how to tell you this… but… Y/N and Bruce have been divorced for three months now…” Alfred’s answer was like a knife slicing into his chest… well maybe deep down he knew the divorce was real… but… three months ago?… and no one told him?… “How… why?… why the divorce, and why didn’t anyone tell me?” Dick’s voice was muffled, he tried not to cry, he tried to control himself a little… “I’m sorry Mr. Dick… it was such a shock to everyone that I forgot to tell you… as for the divorce, Y/N chose that herself… unfortunately…” Alfred’s voice was filled with pain, making it even harder for Dick to hold back his tears… Y/N had left them… she had left them…

Dick hung up the phone after thanking Alfred and collapsed on the floor crying… His dog Haley was beside him trying to comfort him… But it didn’t work… It took Dick maybe half an hour to calm himself down… He tried to take deep breaths in and out… Then he hugged his dog Haley who had already settled happily in his lap. Dick was sitting on the floor leaning his head on the bed behind him while looking at the ceiling of his apartment. He couldn’t help but remember all the memories with Y/N. Dick may not have said it out loud before, but he considered Y/N as his mother… She always took care of him, he still remembers the first time he came to Wayne Manor after his parents died, he was full of anger and wanted revenge, Bruce was trying to channel his anger in a good way to fight the bad guys, but Y/N allowed him to vent his anger, by crying and getting all his feelings out and not holding them in, he remembers that he was mean to her at first, thinking that she was trying to be his mother, but after a while, it turned out that she was just trying to help him, she helped him decorate his parents' grave, buy new things, and when he fought with Bruce she took his side… and even now she still against Bruce and side with Damian, he loved the stories she told, she helped him and encouraged him to speak his mind and thoughts and not hold them in… even when he had a big fight with Bruce and decided to leave the house to be independent… She called him every night, asking him how he was, and if he tried to lie she would know and ask him to tell the truth, which he actually couldn't resistance, so he was always honest with her, Dick was used to being a leader and a good big brother, everyone depended on him… and Y/N was the one he could count on, she was the light of his life, she was family, until recently she used to call him and check on him, now he knew why she hadn't called in three months… He sighed and looked down to see that Haley was asleep, he picked her up and put her in her bed. Even if Y/N had left the house, she still loved them, he was sure, maybe if he went back to Gotham and talked to her he would understand, yeah, maybe she had left the house, but she wouldn't leave them, she still loved them. He was sure

In Gotham... specifically at Wayne Manor, Tim was suffering from a headache and back pain, he was lying in his bed... well maybe not his bed, but in Y/N's bed and room. His work and the pile of papers were almost competing with the towering mountains... when did paperwork become so stressful and tiring? He didn't remember this ever being a problem for him, he wouldn't lie to himself, he knew that Y/N's departure was the reason for the work to be doubled, the sleep to be less, and the pain to be more, Y/N used to do almost all the work for him, so he could rest, but now he couldn't balance his sleeping time, eating, doing all the work, solving cases, and becoming Red Robin, it was too much, Y/N was managing it so well, she did his work, made sure he ate and drank enough before she literally dragged him from the Batcave to the palace to sleep against his will, she always carried him like a baby, he always wondered how she could carry him so easily, okay he'd admit that when he first came to the palace he was a very skinny baby, but he grew up and became muscular, maybe not like Dick or Jason but he sure wasn't light, anyway that didn't concern him now... The problem here is that he hasn't slept in... two days? He doesn't know, maybe it's been three days... He hates that Y/N used to carry him to his room and stay by his side until he fell asleep, and he hated that she knew that sometimes he pretended to sleep, so she wouldn't leave until Tim was completely asleep... Sometimes Tim couldn't sleep easily, like when there was a mission or a case on his mind but Y/N carried him to his room before he could finish it, so he would complain and sometimes beg Y/N to finish the case, that it wouldn't take long, but Y/N always refused... And he couldn't sleep because of the case that consumed his mind, so Y/N would sometimes tell him stories... And it worked to make him sleep... He wondered if Y/N's stories were real, because they didn't seem imaginary at all, her stories were strangely realistic, to the point that all Tim's attention was only on the story until he fell asleep. And so Tim became forced to sleep because of Y/N, food and water, when he should take a break and when he should finish the case, Y/N was organizing his life, he didn't remember getting tired or exhausted from this organization, on the contrary, he was getting enough sleep and food to renew his energy, and even after he came back from his break he would come back with more energy and his solving of cases was at an amazingly higher rate than before, it was very useful, Y/N was the only one who knew how to organize him amazingly with all the work he had. But Y/N wasn't just organizing his life, she even hid his mistakes. Sometimes he would come back from missions with some wounds. Tim didn't like to say that he was injured, it made him weak, and he didn't want to be weak, but Y/N would discover every wound he had, even if it was hidden. The good thing was that she never told Bruce about the injuries, and if the injuries were serious, she would make an excuse for Tim not to go on the next mission. She would cover up all his failures and mistakes in silence... and he was grateful to her. He still remembered when Damian first came and took the Robin costume from him, she would comfort him and stay by his side and tell him that Robin wasn't the one wearing the costume, Robin was the one who protected the children of this city.

It really helped him… he remembered when he asked her advice about his new costume and name, and she encouraged him… she was proud of him, he saw it in her eyes, and when Batman disappeared and everyone thought he was dead and Dick was about to put him in Arkham, Y/N was the first to protest and the first to hit Dick… well that problem was solved a while ago and Y/N was so mad at Dick, it took Dick over three weeks to try to get her to forgive him… it was funny to Tim. She got mad for him. For him… he missed her… she was his whole life, now he couldn’t sleep or work, even his appetite was gone… he could barely survive on coffee now. That’s why he moved into her room a few weeks after she left, he wouldn’t say he slept well, but at least he did, now her scent, her warmth, even her voice and her look at him were gone. When he moved into her room he had a fight with Damian about it, that was the first and last fight they had since Y/N left. Damian wouldn't like it if Tim was the one taking over Y/N's room, and it was a long, tiring fight, in which Damian gave in for the first time ever, letting Tim sleep in Y/N's room. Tim knew very well why Damian was angry, that he missed Y/N too, Damian had changed dramatically after her departure, he barely spoke inside the house, and even on missions he didn't have the same enthusiasm as usual, and he didn't blame Damian for that, he missed her himself... but he had to thank his position as CEO of WE for that which helped him see Y/N a lot, he had multiple meetings with Y/N's family company under the pretext of resuming relations again, just to see Y/N, and one of the meetings was always cancelled due to circumstances, whether from his side or Y/N's, and the first meeting that finally happened was last night, and after more than three months he saw Y/N again, when she entered the meeting room she automatically patted him on the head and asked him how he was and that his appearance looked bad and he should eat and sleep well... Tim was silent, he felt a lump in his throat, if there weren't other people in the room he would have collapsed and hugged her and asked her to come back, but he remained silent looking down Trying to breathe slowly, after the meeting ended he wanted to catch up with her, and talk to her alone and tell her that he needed her back, he hadn't slept in a long time, but because of some old businessmen that Tim was planning to throw out who blocked his way with some questions, invitations and failed offers that caused Tim to be late to catch up with Y/N, but it's okay, he will have another meeting with her, and he will ask her to go home.

Tim sighed as he tried to sleep for the sixth time and was about to fall asleep this time but the knocking on the door woke him up. He grumbled and cursed under his breath at the person at the door unless that person was Alfred, Tim got up lazily and opened the door to be surprised by Damian standing at the door... "Oh? Damian? What's wrong?" Tim noticed Damian's eyes were puffy from crying, he wasn't surprised, ever since Y/N left Damian had been crying a lot, not that anyone would tell him that was obvious. "I want you to find me two people, they're from my school, and they call Y/N my aunt." Damian said calmly without any arrogance. Tim looked at him in confusion for a while, could it be that Damian was after Y/N now? "And before you say anything I know that you're trying to get Y/N back through the meetings you request from her family's company." Damian continued crossing his arms. Tim tensed for a moment, he didn't know that it was obvious, then sighed in surrender. "Okay, come in."

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[mostly-imagines]

Damian was unwilling to even consider accepting your presence. He’d been sure that you were a passing source of entertainment for his older brother, who couldn’t possibly hold positive regard towards anyone other than himself.

Jason had brought you to the manor with him while he dropped in to discuss some things with the old man. You’d told him you’d be fine to hang out with Damian until he was done, to which he scoffed and wished you luck.

So you approach the couch tentatively and smile despite the lack of attention on you, “Hi Damian.”

He merely side eyes you and says nothing.

Having expected this from him, you continue, “What are you watching?”

“The Discovery channel.” He says shortly.

You frown, furrowing your eyebrows.

He glances at you, unamused. “What?”

“Why are you watching the Discovery channel?” you ask him.

“It’s educational.” He tells you, like it’s obvious.

You nod slowly, “Yes, but…what else do you watch?”

“The Discovery channel has many different series’,” he tells you with discernable disinterest.

You tilt your head at him, “Don’t you watch shows for kids?”

He glowers hearing that, “Why would I do that?”

“…Because you’re a kid.”

He shakes his head, basically waving you off. “I wouldn’t waste my time.”

You’re not really sure why Damian is the way he is just yet. You know he only came to live with Bruce relatively recently and before that lived with his mother somewhere far. Jason’s mentioned in passing that his upbringing was a bit unorthodox and his mother is a sore subject. You don’t know Bruce well but you can take a guess that his parenting priorities don’t necessarily lie with letting kids be kids.

You shake your head, “It’s not a waste of time. Not if you enjoy it.” You pause. “It’s okay for you to be a kid, Damian.”

He looks at you like he has no idea what you’re talking about.

You sit up more, turning to face him completely. “I can’t imagine pushing yourself so hard all the time is good for your brain. Or your body.”

That gets his attention. “…What do you mean?”

You take a deep breath, “I mean a part of normal human development involves fostering happiness through recreation and leisure. Entertainment like that functions as a stress reliever which is necessary for you to operate at your highest capacity. It’s like recharging your body and it’s important to do, especially when you’re young and can burn out quickly.”

He frowns deeply, furrowing his eyebrows, “Oh.”

You nod, thinking. “I can’t imagine your diet is any different than your dads, then.”

His posture straightens, “I eat to make me stronger. That is good for my body.” He says it like it has to be.

Your brow furrows at that as you nod, “Yeah, it is, but do you like it?”

He grimaces, “What does that matter?”

You pull back a bit, blinking at him. “Do you eat snacks, Damian?”

“Snacks are for—” he cuts himself off. “No I do not.”

“What if we watched a movie and made popcorn or something?”

He considers this with an obvious great hesitance, looking you up and down like he’s expecting you to pull out a knife any second.

“You could be wrong,” he says eventually, quiet.

You nod for a moment. “But what if I’m not?”

He eyes the rug on the floor, chin still held up. “What…do you suggest?”

You pucker your lower lip and shake your head, grabbing the remote. “Anything you want,” You flip the screen to the children’s movies, scrolling through the options. “You might like The Rescuers. Or Robin Hood. It’s about someone who steals from the rich and gives the money to the poor.”

You hand him the remote and he slowly moves through the list. You watch him look over the selection, eyes slightly wider than usual.

“What about “Bambi”? It has small animals in the picture.” He points to the little icon on the left of the screen displaying the baby deer and friends.

Your movements stutter. “Oh, uh…I don’t think that’s the movie for you.”

He tilts his head at you, “Why not?”

You take a deep breath and turn your head over your shoulder towards the kitchen. “I’m going to make popcorn, yeah?”

“Okay.”

You smile and nod encouragingly and stand before making your way to the kitchen.

Damian watches you go before thoughtlessly standing himself and trailing slowly after you. By the time he gets to the kitchen door frame you’ve already opened up a packet and are placing it into the microwave. You don’t stop at that, opening up the fridge to pour out a small glass of coke.

The popcorn is nearly done when Jason approaches from the hall, stopping next to Damian and peering into the doorway to see what’s so interesting.

He’s surprised to find that the thing Damian had been staring wide-eyed at was you, making snacks.

He looks again at his little brother, heeding how his gaze was somehow closer to fear than skepticism. But he’d seen that look before, when he’d first come to live at the manor it was the only expression he conveyed for at least two months. That look of shock that he was being treated so kindly, with such thought behind it. Jason hadn’t seen that look in a while, but couldn’t find it in him to be surprised that it was you who brought it back out.

For someone as trained as he is, it takes Damian an embarrassingly long time to register his brother's presence. He tries to play it off as though he’d always known, adjusting his posture to stand taller, chin up. He turns to face Jason, suddenly somber. “She is an adequate choice of a partner.”

Jason’s face contorts, looking him up and down, “…Thanks?”

[deadsetobsessions]

Damian Wayne was like a duckling. A violent, stab-happy, danger-prone duckling, yes, but a duckling all the same. Which means when Danny almost got stabbed by a sleepy, instinct driven Damian, he was able to wave it off with a laugh. Damian, on the other hand, stared in horror at the butter knife firmly lodged in Danny’s arm.

“PENNYWORTH!” Danny jerked back at Damian’s scream. “RICHARD! FATHER!”

God damn, the kid had a pair of lungs on him. Danny’s wince was interpreted as pain to Damian, who gently grabbed his injured arm and started to pull him towards the kitchen’s marble island.

Danny blinked, non plussed as his hearing picked up a thundering of feet as the present family members scrambled towards Damian’s distress call.

“Wait, Damian, I’m fine. It’s-”

“You have been impaled, you imbecile! Had it been any of the other simpletons, they would have-!”

“Ouch.” Danny put his other hand in mock hurt over his slow-beating heart. He literally doesn’t care about the butter knife. He’s just impressed there was enough force in there to impale him. “Are you calling me names now? After- gasp- stabbing me?”

Before Damian could reply, the beginnings of regret, remorse, and guilt on his face, Alfred, Dick, and Bruce burst into the kitchen.

“What happened?!”

“My word, master Danny!”

“What is it?!”

“I’m fine. It’s like a small stab. Not even a big stab. I’m good.”

Dick paled, seeing Danny’s arm clutched in Damian’s hand.

“That’s- that’s a knife. In your arm. How is that ‘fine’?!”

“What happened.” Bruce asked Damian, gently removing Danny’s arm from Damian’s death clutch.

“I- I did not mean to,” Damian starts, guilt coloring his voice.

“He didn’t,” Danny cuts in. “I startled him and got stabbed for being dumb. I won’t fault him for having a defense mechanism like that, ancient knows what I might do if you guys startled me.”

The awkward silence that settled at his words made Danny twitch awkwardly.

“Uh, so, can I add this knife to my collection? Even if I didn’t get mugged?”

“Danny.”

“Bruce.” Danny stared stubbornly back. With his uninsured hand, he patted Damian on the head. He was going to enjoy the fluffiness before Damian’s guilt was no longer enough to hold him back from snapping at Danny’s hand like a grumpy alligator. Bruce loses, obviously. He’s a teenager who was also an ex-vigilante. Batman’s got nothing on a determined halfa.

“Master Danny, I must insist you refrain from getting stabbed. There is only so much gauze and antiseptic cream in the house.” Alfred returned- huh, when did he leave?- with a med kit.

Danny called bullshit because he knows there’s a whole ass medical bay beneath the manor.

“Sorry.”

“No need to apologize.” Alfred said, promptly beginning the extraction of the butter knife.

“Are you okay?” Dick asked, hovering worriedly. “He- are you…?”

Damian was allowing Danny to ruffle his hair, so…

“Yep, I’m good. This isn’t even on my top thirty most painful stabbings,” and it really wasn’t. That honor was given to the GIW and that one time Jazz accidentally stabbed him with her earrings. “That was pretty impressive, actually. It’s like, a butter knife. The other ones had pointy ends.”

“Do not clump me with those pathetic wastes of spaces. I am naturally superior and would… would never harm you on purpose.” Damian said, getting quiet at the end like he was trying to plead to Danny to believe him.

“Of course not. But- if you want help me keep the knife, you can hit me with a mug, it would technically be a mugging.”

The pun got the desired effect. Damian leaned away with a disgruntled look and Dick stopped hovering as close in order to let out a small cackle.

“Done.”

“You should go get changed, kiddo. We’re going to see Tim’s photography at the Gotham Gallery today.”

“Oh, for real?” Danny patted Damian’s fluffy hair one last time, pushing away from the counter. “Oh, I’ll clean up here first and-”

“That will not be necessary,” Alfred scolded, a mop somehow already in his hands. “Please see to it you are prepared for the day.”

“Thanks, Alfred. Can I keep the knife.”

“Very well.”

“Sweet. See you guys later?” Danny pranced off after seeing the nods.

——

“He’s… he got stabbed a lot. Before us, I mean.” Dick tapped a furious rhythm onto the counter. “Not that we’ve stabbed him until now but even once is concerning for a civilian.”

“He was used to it.” Bruce replied.

“Perhaps we should join Todd in his endeavor and ensure that his worthless tormentors are permanently out of the picture.”

“God, he said top thirty. He was counting.”

Damian silently withdrew a kitchen knife.

“No murder with my quality chef’s knives, Master Damian.”

“Tt.”

“Master Jason follows the same rules. Now, out of the kitchen. I may be old, but I remember the last time master Bruce and master Dick stepped foot in here and I will not have a repeat.”

[invincibledc]

Batboys when their unaffectionate best friend texts them “I love you” out of no where.

Tw: suicide mentions but not done. Reader is gender neutral.

Dick

As soon as he got that text, he either felt happy you started to be affectionate or he felt worried as you never really texted him that. He goes to text you “are you okay?”

And if you don’t answer he’s leaving work and going to your house. His anxiety is eating his stomach alive when he reached your house, he opens them with the spare keys you gave him.

You were just watching tv when you turned at him confused. “Dick?” Immediately dick hugs you, tightly. Now you’re concerned . “Dick?” You said again, worried. “I was worried…thought something happened to you.” He stays at your home until he gets called back to work.

Jason

Just try and do the same shit to him like dick. Don’t answer him? This man’s pulling up to your house immediately when you said “I love you.” Scared that maybe someone who knows him and wants to hurt Jason is after you.

He knows you, more than you know yourself. Literally he’s already at your window banging on it, cursing himself when you don’t open it he goes and bust the window open wide. He can pay for it, don’t worry.

As he stalks around the house holding his gun, he sees you standing in the kitchen holding a knife. This big ass fridge of a man just grabs the knife out of your hand. You scream shocked before seeing it was just Jason.

“What..were you doing?…” he asked firmly. You scoff and grabbed the knife, well tried to as you explained yourself. “I was gonna cut onions before you came in Jay..” you said pointing to the onions Jason had clearly hadn’t seen due to adrenaline.

“Oh. Well love ya too, ima go now. I’ll see you in the morning.” Jason says leaving, that was before he turned around. “Oh yeah and Uhm…your window is broken.” Jason leaves quickly as you gasp and go check your bedroom window. “JASONNNN!!” You yelled in anger.

Tim

It’s late at night, he on his computer doing a report when all he sees on his phone is an “I love you” text from the most unexpected friend ever, you. Immediately Tim is getting up, calling you as he gets dressed to go to your house.

He’s scared, “pick up, pick up, pick up.” You don’t answer. “Fuck!” Tim hangs up and calls again. He knows you had some thoughts of suicidal tendencies, but he’s been by you in your darkest days. So when you just text him that, he doesn’t realize he’s crying when he finally reaches your house.

He’s using a spare key he secretly copied off of your own home key, don’t ask. It’s for procedures like this if you are in danger.

Anyways he immediately screaming your name, if you don’t answer immediately as he screams your name. He’s gonna run up to your room.

But if you immediately yell back his name, he’s running towards your voice. You were in your room relaxing when you see a tired and scared Tim rush at you into a hug. Crying softly as he holds you tight.

“You’re okay right? Why didn’t you answer my calls?!” He says immediately. “My phone died when I texted you…” Tim immediately stopped crying just to give you a “wtf” face. “….are you serious.” Tim had forgotten that you had a terrible habit of having your phone dead at times.

“Yeah.” “..just for this night scare. I’m sleeping here.” Tim says, his body soon gave out easily. Making his heavy body fall on your smaller frame. “Tim! Tim! Get up dude..I’m sorry!? Damnnit!!!”

Damian

The moment that text got sent, it takes him 6 minutes to get to your house. Quietly like the damn ex assassin he is.

His expression and face are hardened holding a katana, bro’s lip in sunken in as he looks around your house. “I don’t know what games you are playing. But it’s not funny L/N.” He says as he then sits on your bed. Katana flat on his lap staring at you intensely. “What, I can’t say I love you to my best friend.” Damian’s glare hardened. “You can, I was just surprised when you texted me those 'words'. Seemed unlikely of you to say that so I had to come to make sure you were secured.”

You deadpanned at the tanned boy in-front of you. “Okay fine, I just wanted to say it incase you felt like you didn’—” “I know you love me, and I …love you too. Now that I know you are okay, I must go.” He says quickly. Looking away to hide his slight flustered face, he lifts up your window sill and jumps out the window. You walk over to see the boy is immediately gone.

[witherby]

do you think that the batfam has different ways of explaining their bruises/injuries they get from crimefighting to an observant mouse? 👼👼👼

--🎆

Fantastic question! I think growing up in Wayne Manor would make it exceptionally difficult to hide the vigilantism from you. They could 100% do it, but it would take about a thousand times more effort concealing it from you than the general public, so I don't think they would.

You're very young when you start really piecing it together, though, so they're gonna have to tell you what happened in child-friendly ways.

The Littlest Wayne: Post-Battle Injuries

1. Bruce

"Wha' happen, daddy?"

This man is not a good liar, but he dodges the truth like it's an Olympic sport. Like any public figure worth their salt, he's gonna answer the question without answering the question.

"Well, when Daddy has to go be Batman, sometimes he gets hurt. The boo-boos will go away after a while, and everything is going to be fine. You'll have to hug gently for a few days."

What he doesn't say is that he took a toyota corolla pushing 70 to the ribs and can feel the broken bones shifting and rubbing together like wet chopsticks under his skin, it's fucking nauseating, and he needs to go pass out as soon as he puts you down for a nap.

2. Dick

"Uh-oh, Dinky hurty?"

If Bruce is admired for keeping his cool in the wake of grievous injury, then Dick wrote the fucking book on it. His picture shows up when you google "gaslight gatekeep girlboss." He could lose a limb and convince you it's always been like that with a straight face. You'll never catch his ass lacking.

"Dinky fell down," he says easily, scooping you into his arms, "but he's fine! See? All okay!" His face doesn't even twitch from all his wounds getting aggravated. There is shrapnel embedded in his back from being thrown through a window and tumbling down the roof. The broken-off blade of a knife is jammed up in his thigh. His right hand has lost all feeling in it from blocking a pipe getting swung at him. There are black spots in his vision. He's lost so much blood it's nothing short of divine intervention keeping him conscious.

You'd bet your ass if you need him to go sprint a 10k right now, though, he's lacing up his tennis shoes.

3. Tim

"Timmy, what wrong?"

He's gonna tell you the truth, and he's the only one that'll tell you the truth. He'll just omit the gorey bits because they're not beneficial to you.

"Oh, this? Bad guy got me good with his knife. It hurts a lot so don't touch it... I just said don't touch it...okay fine, go wash your hands first before you touch it."

He didn't like being kept out of the loop as a child, especially a child that had to raise himself, so he tells you about anything and everything you ask. He'll tell you what medical supplies he's grabbing and why. He'll tell you his estimated recovery time. He'll tell you what wounds the others have, if any. He'll let you touch the safe tools, like gauze and bandages and antibiotic ointment. He'll show you how to apply them, too, and then quickly take you to the sink to wash the blood from your hands.

4. Jason

"Jay-Jay ouchies?"

He's the most unintentionally awkward about it. I think being brought back to life in the Lazarus Pit really fucked up his ability to feel pain. The major injuries still sting — gunshots, stabs, broken bones — but bruises and black eyes and sprains fly under the radar very often.

"Uh, no," he shrugs, looking at the myriad of colorful bruising you just pointed out on his arm. "No ouchies." He's not exactly lying, it doesn't hurt, but it is very clearly an injury. This confuses and upsets you often.

5. Damian

"Dami got a booboo?"

He's lying every single time. He's your older brother. He's a dangerous killing machine. His skill and combat prowess are unmatched. He needs you to think he's incredible and amazing and cool.

"Those half-wit simpletons could never dream of landing a hit on me. Any blood on my clothes is simply not mine."

One of the goons actually clipped his side with a bullet and it really, really hurts. His hands are flexing and he's got sweat running down his neck from the pain. He would actually rather die than let you know that, though.

[demonic0angel]

DC x DP Prompt: Family dinner with the Fenton Family and the Waynes. Chaos ensues.

If looks could kill, Danny would’ve been killed a thousand times over, with his body cremated and his ashes thrown into the farthest volcano with salt then being tossed along the dirt afterwards.

Dan had never looked so vicious as he glared daggers at Danny, who was his eyes closed and his hands in front of him, like a prayer. However, he was definitely praying for patience because he had a dinner knife in one hand that Cass was trying to take back from him to no avail.

Dani had her arms wrapped around Tim’s, a wide grin on her face as she noisily snacked on the roast potatoes and watched the battle between Dan and Danny. Tim was trying to hold back a smile, but he pulled the bowl of potatoes closer to her. Kon, who was sitting on the other side of her and was invited by Tim, was also wide eyed and grinning, an arm wrapped around the both of their chairs when he leaned back.

Jazz just looked at Alfred and Bruce with a shameful look on her face and beading tears of embarrassment in her eyes as she muttered, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over again.

Jason was trying to soothe her and not-so-subtly motion Dick to step in and stop the fight while said man was staring at his boyfriend in horror, looking between both of the psychically fighting men with strange looks.

Damian had his head down, whispering to Stephanie and Duke who also had their heads ducked as they gossiped about the situation. Jon, who was sitting on Damian’s other side, was also leaning in and listening with a grin.

Bruce was just looking back and forth between Dan and Danny with wariness and confusion.

“… do you two know each other?”

“Know each other?” Danny said, looking up and finally opening his eyes. “Oh, we definitely know each other.”

Dan bristled at some invisible offense. Dick snapped back fo awareness and grabbed him, chuckling nervously as Dan growled.

Danny raised an eyebrow and sneered, continuing, “Yeah, I know him, alright.”

Dan suddenly grabbed a fork and threw it at Danny. It sank into the wall and pandemonium erupted as the Bats lunged backwards as Dan flew over the table to jump at Danny. However, Danny wasn’t going out without a fight because they immediately began punching and kicking with even some biting. Cass and Dick lunged forward to pull them apart while everyone else moved away.

Dani burst out laughing, but when Jazz burst into tears, that was when everything got even worse.

(I actually wanted to write something like this lmao.

If I continued this, it would be too long, but basically, Jazz has been on her last nerves for the entire day bc this is the first time she’s ever met her boyfriend’s family, and then SUDDENLY she finds out all of her siblings are dating people from the same family and then now her brothers are fighting bc none of them knew that they were dating a pair of siblings, and they thought they could finally get away from each other, and she’s both so embarrassed and so anxious that she started crying.

Immediately, it’s like a *record scratch*, the fighting stops and both Dan and Danny make up really, really fast to comfort their sister and then all of the Phantoms, including Dani bc she did nothing to stop the fight, help clean up the mess and the day actually gets better bc it becomes a bonding activity between the Fentons and the Bats. Jazz is still very embarrassed but it works out.)

[exploding-toad]

i recently saw a post about how jason must be able to make dick mad like no other bc they’re brothers and obviously that’s what happens with siblings.

so naturally i thought of all the scenarios my siblings and i have gotten into and provided you a batfam counterpart.

Jason: *walks into the bathroom to see Damian with Tim’s toothbrush*

Jason: …what are you doing, Damian?

Damian: Drake borrowed my gouache paints and mixed them with each other and left residue in the different colors so I’m putting his toothbrush in the toilet.

Jason: … if I tell you not to will it stop you

Damian: no.

Jason: ok *walks away*

Tim: *on the phone with duke* can you grab me extra toilet paper we’re all out in this bathroom

Duke: sure! *covers his eyes and tosses toilet paper into the bathroom*

Tim: *fumbles with it and it somehow falls entirely into the toilet* …

Duke: *eyes still covered, oblivious*

Tim: BRUCE!! DUKE JUST THREW A WHOLE ROLL OF TOILET PAPER INTO THE TOILET

Duke: wtf ???

Damian: *stalking Steph around the kitchen island with a knife in hand*

Steph: for the last time I didn’t take any of your yo crunch!!!

Damian: *eyes narrow*

it only ends when Alfred comes in.

Duke: *asleep*

Steph: *walks in, lays directly ON TOP OF HIM, CRUSHING HIM* hey duke look at this cool tik tok

Duke: steph what the fuck I can’t breathe

Steph: *ignoring him* why haven’t you replied to my tik tok btw our streak isn’t on fire

Duke: …

Steph: omg have you seen this tik tok Tim just sent me



Damian: *walks into a room where the couch is not facing the entrance*

Tim: *shirtless smiling down at someone* (whoever you want idc)

Damian: what the fuck Alfred told me to tell you dinners ready

Tim: OKAY??? GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE ?!!! *frantically trying to put on his shirt*

Damian: *walking away, muttering* …fucking freak… in our house…

[apppletea]

die your daughter.

act one.

sipnosis: Your own desires were alien to your family, to the point where you are determined to commit an atrocious act but suddenly everything is 7 years ago when you were only 13 years old. Something has changed and you're not sure what it is.

w ; suicide, self-harm.

Your whole life was in her hands, in the hands of that woman and now in the hands of this family who didn't give a shit about you! So how should you react when you returned to your fresh 13 years? Should you have just been happy and cried? No, never.

Your room had become a mess, a mess worse than that family, the furniture thrown over next to the books, the posters you once loved torn and ripped, the trophies you earned with great effort lying near some wall due to the blows you gave them.

How? HOW THE FUCK?!

Soon you felt tears of pure helplessness fall on your cheeks, you looked at the plushies on your bed, they were all obligatory gifts, nothing was genuine, nothing at all! So what? Now what? What should you do? It was probably a horrible, terrible nightmare. No, it shouldn't have happened. You brought your hands to your neck hoping to finish again, hoping to choke on your saliva, you pushed harder and harder until the sudden click of the door sounded.

Alfred entered, worried or not really due to the commotion that sounded in your walls, his gaze fixed on your suicide attempt and quickly sprang into action, approaching you and holding your hands, while you caught your breath and tears wet everything.

‘young master...!!’ The adult's worried voice brought you to your senses for a moment. This was really real. It wasn't a lie, it wasn't a cruel nightmare. You had returned to that prison.

You sobbed, moans of pain leaving your mouth as you still struggled to catch your breath, Alfred stayed by your side, holding your hands to prevent you from trying again, He'd never seen you like this before, never thought you were capable of doing something like that, and the more he thought about it, the more terrified he became. What if you had a gun? A knife? Oh, He would never forgive himself for that.

Your eyes were too watery to see clearly, your gaze fixed on the now open door, the whole mansion was silent, but to you, they were like whispers, whispers that never left.

‘ugh—!... i feel sick.’ You murmured softly, abruptly removing your hands and seeking comfort within yourself, hugging yourself and hoping nothing more would happen but it didn't last, really nothing. You felt a gaze, a gaze that you could recognize from a distance, it was him, you looked up to find him watching the scene you created.

Alfred looked at him and simply looked away for a moment before greeting him properly. ‘master Damian.’ He said with a calm voice, the situation was serious but he... He was he.

You felt your body tremble and you could feel the anger that you had held in for 7 years, you didn't know what you were doing and you couldn't think clearly either, you only knew one thing, you hit Damian.

Alfred stood still like a statue, he knew you were in a vulnerable state but he didn't recognize that you could easily break at the sight of your family or at least, your brother.

‘wha— what's wrong with you?!’ He screamed but that scream you hated to hear because you knew he was ready to despise you, you grabbed another trophy to throw it at him but Alfred intervened, this time he took your side, he never did.

‘master damian! Please, stop. She's in serious condition.’ Alfred quickly justified it, Damian remained silent and looked at you again, this time realizing how you were and how the room was a mess. ‘So what? She thinks can throw a tantrum? Definitely not.’

‘shut up—!’

‘what?’

‘SHUT UP! I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU!!’

‘You—? oh.’

He remained completely silent as you writhed in the shadows that embraced you, shadows that never left you alone and perhaps you should have been grateful to them for not going completely crazy.

Alfred sighed, his eyebrows furrowed and he gave Damian a little push to leave the room, he left, still looking at you with an expression of confusion and deep pain that tried to disguise. Your words echoed completely in his vivid memory, his hands buried themselves in his hair as he gripped it with great force while his back slid against the wall next to your door. ‘UGH!—’

How can you hate him? How?— Aren't you that little girl who entered the mansion and tried everything to get close to him? Your older brother? What changed? What happened? What, what?! He couldn't allow himself to fall apart just because of that, he shouldn't let your words get to him, maybe you only said it because you were angry, yes, surely. He shouldn't have broken just because of that, he's... a well-trained boy, Talia al Ghul's son, he can't, no... So why does frustration fill every part of his being?

You felt like your eyes were exploding, they hurt, and so was your head, or rather, your whole body hurt, even your arms with scratches and cuts, your cheek with a scar that you got without thinking. All of this was real, it was real that Alfred took your side for the first time, it was real how Damian reacted quickly to your pitch, It was real like your room was the same, the pain was real, everything was real, so so real that you still couldn't believe it.

Alfred carefully pressed the wounds, slowly wrapping your arms with bandages. You weren't someone sensitive, not after what you went through in what is now your old life. You had had an insensitivity to pain, with all the wounds you got through your life, all your skin couldn't feel it properly and maybe it was an advantage, you never felt each wound again.

Still, you felt less human. If you couldn't feel pain, what were you then? A punching bag for those kids at your school? For your family? Maybe.

The older man's voice brought you out of your thoughts and you looked at him momentarily before looking down and losing yourself in the ocean of feelings you felt. He sighs again and leaves the room without being able to say anything, how could he anyway? They had neglected you so much that you were about to end your own life, he should tell the lord of the mansion but he can't, he doesn't know why but no, he can't.

Night had finally arrived, you knew everyone would leave, where to? You couldn't say, it was always a mystery but it was an opportunity not to escape, but to study the mansion and everyone, although in your old life you had allowed yourself to remember everything about each other, now they were just distant memories that were no longer in your head.

You didn't know where Alfred had gone but you didn't care, that didn't matter anymore so you barely heard the last one of them leave, You opened the door to your room and walked out silently. You were already dressed in your pajamas, ready to sleep, but today wasn't the time to sleep when everyone was awake too.

You looked around and walked carefully, going down to the main room and looking around again until you noticed something strange, maybe the mansion wasn't completely empty. Your gaze focused on the feet dangling from the armrests, large feet. ‘damn...’ You murmured as you noticed who it surely was, you approached trying not to be so noticeable but perhaps you knew that wouldn't work at all.

The figure was larger, of an adult, Jason.

The oldest brother, The resurrected one, the Robin, or whatever, you also temporarily sought his attention and affection but like everyone else, he was too busy to think about you. He was clearer with you, he made it clear that he didn't want you around even when you were determined to read all the books someone recommended just to keep you quiet.

Sigh... You looked closer and he was just sleeping with a book on his damn face, maybe it was a trick, you couldn't tell, you must have walked past and not paid attention but the air was cold or at least for you. You noticed that he was in his usual clothes,, you looked at him a little longer and simply placed a blanket over him and left, following your mission.

...

Silence, that was all, you had passed through a corridor so long that you felt it would never end. You had realized why, it was a corridor or hallway with all the family portraits, from the first Robin to the last, except you were the last and you had given up on the idea of being Robin. That's why yours was different, not with the idea of being special, it was the idea of seeing yourself as cool as all your siblings, so intimidating but at the same time with an aura of calm.

You loved your portrait, even as the years passed, you always admired yourself as a child, for your love of weapons even though one almost killed you. You, being the little 8-year-old with one of those long guns posing and holding it at the same time, loved your past self, brave, strong, and capable of doing anything. You are now a shadow of what you once were, and you didn't dislike it at all now.

And now, in that moment, it was just you and the shadows hiding in the darkness of this mansion.

new chapter yayy, excuse my inactivity !

I tried to focus a lot on the reader's reaction to having returned to that life again, it's like, I feel like she has to have some kind of anger because she ended her life because she didn't want to LIVE in that house and now shes back.

I have also seen in many fanfics that the reader first wanted the attention of the oldest brother, Dick, and wanted to change that because this reader is the youngest in the family and she wanted the attention and affection of Damian, her older brother.

and thats all... btw I'll be making the taglist soon, if you want to be added, please comment and make sure your settings allow it!

have a good day (⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠).

[radiance1]

Damian: [brushing his teeth]

The shadow hanging over his shoulder: [Gets its teeth dangerously close to Damian's shoulder]

Damian: [Shoves a toothbrush into said shadow move and starts brush]

The shadow: [Pauses before starting to let out a contented purr]

Damian then spits out the foam and washes out his mouth, then makes the shadow do the same and then picks out pjs.

Damian: [Currently decided if he should go with the cat, dog, or knife imprinted one]

The shadow: [Starts getting dangerously close to Damian with, toxic green spirals it calls eyes]

Damian: [Throws the dog imprinted one behind him at the shadow and takes the cat imprinted one for himself and tells the shadow to put it on]

The shadow: [Stares at the clothes before hesitantly putting them on before letting out a noise of distress]

Damian: [Turning around to find the shadow somehow stuck in the pjs, lets out a sigh, then starts to help them fit]

Damian then moves over to the bed, he points to one side and tells the shadow to go there. The shadow listens, laying down as Damian also lays down, grabbing the sheets and covering them both.

It barely took a few seconds for the shadow to fall asleep, and Damian stared at it. Damian wasn't quite sure why the shadow of his dead twin was following him, nor why it was even able to and seemed to hide itself from anyone who isn't Damian.

Nobody besides him knew about it, and Damian decided that he liked it. This could have been his younger brother, if the other had survived, and they would have probably been told to fight to the death to decide an heir.

At the very least, that won't ever happen.

Even if his brother was slightly unusual.

===

Danny did not remember much of the before, he remembered people with blurred faces and features, blurred colors. He remembered a lot of colors, then red, then white, then pain.

He doesn't like pain, he believes.

Then he remembered going to sleep, and then he woke up. It was dark and slimy and cramped when he woke up, especially when he realized someone else was in their with him.

Then he fell asleep again, then woke up to that same dark and slimy place, then fell asleep again, all in some weird cycle. Then, moving, and pain.

It hurt, and he was sluggish when it eventually stopped. Then came pain again, and he was asleep.

Then he woke up, again.

He didn't know what was happening, wasn't really aware of too. But he woke up next to the other who was in that dark and slimy with him, and decided he wanted to stay with them.

He wasn't aware enough for most of the things that happened when Damian grew up, but he still stayed regardless, and hide from everyone else.

Danny loves his brother, and he thinks his brother loves him too. Even if he was slightly unusual.

[haveihitanerve]

The batkids taking shit from each other- the intimacy of knowing where the other persons weapons/gadgets/things are

The most commonly “pickpocketed” person is bruce, and he gets so used to it/they get so good at it that sometimes he forgets to take it back or replace it. 

Batman and Red Hood are staking out a new villains headquarters and jason is bored so he reaches over to bruces side and pulls out three lollipops, working through them one at a time. Bruce doesn't even flinch, even as jason's hand digs deep into his side to reach the last one. Then later he has to calm down this little girl, reaches for the pocket, and finds he has no more lollipops to comfort this child with. So he reaches over to Nightwing, who is currently in deep discussion with a police officer, and tugs some sweets out from his shoulder pocket and hands it to the kid. Accidentally, he also takes a replacement grappling hook wire with it, since dick is a mess and has all sorts of shut crammed in every pocket thats not supposed to be there, but he just shrugs and tucks it into his own replacement wire pocket. Then dicks line breaks a few days later and he reaches for his pocket- and its empty. So he does a double backflip off the building, lands on top of a swinging red robin, snatches some replacement wire from his boot pocket, recharges his gun and is gone within a few seconds. Tim continues on like nothing has happened. When he lands on the next roof, Spoiler is waiting for him, and he gives her a quick kiss, reaching to the back of her waist band to grab a small knife and throw it at the goon coming up the stairs. A few days later steph is hanging upside down with cass and reaches for her knife, only to come up empty handed, so she just grabs the one cass has strapped to her thigh and peels her orange with that instead. Cass shrugs, drops from the ceiling on bruces shoulders, pecks his cheek and takes one of his daggers from his chest pocket. Three days later damian yeets his katana at Riddler(it misses but the villain is traumatized) but now the young robin is out of a weapon, so he ducks under cass’s legs and takes the dagger, sending it flying into a nearby goons gut. Bruce is both horrified and proud of his children and instates a weekly meeting to double check that every has all of their things. A very startling amount of gadgets and knicknacks are passed from hand to hand at these meetings, returned to their rightful owner. Bruce, naturally, has the largest pile that he has to put away. The kids all snicker into their hands as he glowers, shoving the weapons and pepper spray and gum pieces(“why did you take them if you weren't even going to chew them!!!”) back into his suit as they all finish up an hour before him and just watch. 

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 15

Don't really have anything to say 🫠 thank y'all for the attention, for reading etc, ch 16 is done, ch 17 may take longer cuz I think I'm catching a cold so uhhh- enjoy and stay safe!

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 15 >>next

Jason was having a terrible week, starting with Ms. “I wouldn’t have been as forgiving if you didn’t die and came back kinder to me” Wayne- well- Grayson? He doesn’t know anymore- he’s close enough to just forging papers that say you’re his biological little sister just to fuck with Bruce.

Speaking of- Jason hasn’t turned on his coms and the phone specifically for the bats since the night the family found out. He’s seriously debating throwing those devices out the window, but he finds it more entertaining how everyone is in shambles.

Granted, while the others have tried cornering him to- politely ask questions- Jason is more paranoid about Damian and Cassandra. Cassandra not speaking wasn’t something he worried about, but her not texting him nonsense throughout the day made him antsy. Adding to that the fact that the demon brat didn’t even try to knife him down once? Yeah, no, Jason was on edge. Either those two were planning something or they knew something the others didn’t- frankly, he didn’t like either option.

He and the other rogues have been upping the attack on the rich to try and exhaust the bats, take their attention from you- but with each attack the bats seemed to care less and less. And if they did show up, they were starting to punch harder, to break more bones, to use those “only when necessary” blades more and more. They were getting angrier, desperate, and dangerous.

Good. It was about time they saw what they’d been pushing to the side, what they all did at one point. However, Red Hood was getting angrier at the pure audacity they had to just snoop around his turf every 13th of the month, they’ve been doing it for a while, sure, but they got sloppier with their stealth. It was making everyone nervous, the kids especially.

And now the gall of him to show up as Bruce Wayne, with that blasted fake smile, and that sweet, sweet food from Alfred. “Bruce. What are you doing here?” Harvey’s voice broke Jason from drooling over the buffet Pennyworth had made. “I-…” Bruce took in a shaky breath. Batman knew he should have rehearsed something, but lately, he’s only done impulsive things. “I’ve been a terrible father to my youngest daughter. I’m sure you all know that- I’m trying to slowly see the great achievements she made despite that and to try and understand her better.”

“And we’re supposed to believe that?” Waylon growled, tail tapping the asphalt anxiously. Harley backed Croc up, grinding into the ground the fact that he’d never tried before, that it’s been years. But one of the kids ignored the tension, coming up to the man and just grabbing his hand, smiling brightly at him.

“She always told us that some people are worth giving second chances.” The little girl looks back at the others. “He’s seeing he did bad and trying to fix it.” She shrugged and the rogues couldn’t argue. Without those second chances they wouldn’t be here, but that doesn’t mean they’ll make it easy for the trust fund baby. “Well, Mr. Wayne. Better get to work.” Two-face cackled as Cobblepot started directing the man to start carrying old, unusable furniture out of the buildings, giving the goons a break.

Jason turned to look at the little girl, his hands on his hips. “You stole his watch.” It wasn’t a question, it was very much a statement, a statement at which the little kid just smiled brightly. “She always said to rob the rich blind, too, and that man is too trusting of little kids. I got his ring too.” Jay couldn’t argue with that, so he just ruffled the little rascal’s hair and went on his way.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“I’m sorry- You have to marry a fish?!” You almost yelled into the com as you stopped a car from splatting a woman. “And C is just letting that happen? I’m telling you, he’ll become enemy number one.” Setting the car down, ignoring Cecil saying he could hear you, you quickly grabbed the woman and flew to the protective dome where most civilians were staying safe. Your eyes met hers and you immediately complimented the bright green color. “Wha- not you two morons! I was talking to somebody else- Yes, I’m on the job.” You sigh as you set her down before getting back to action.

“Robot wanted me on the scene to take care of the civis, said something about Immortal needing the win, but uh…” You watch as the man gets overwhelmed and decapitated, his body going limp while Dupli-Kate and Black Samson try to get to him. “It’s kinda pathetic. They’re not fighting like a team. Robot, Shrinking Rae, and Moster Girl seem to be the only ones able to keep up.”

Cecil just sighs, turning on the coms for everyone. “Sorceress. End it, now.” While Robot tried to argue against it you just acted, getting tired of this mess. Getting higher in the air your hands raised, eyes glowing as you muttered some of the new spells Zatanna and John taught you.

Most of the aliens fell to the ground lured into a deep sleep state while the ones who could fight against the magic were quickly chained- all, with a wave of your hands, fell through a portal straight to their home planet. Landing you grabbed the Immortal’s head, moving closer and sticking it close enough that the skin started reattaching on its own. When you got up Kate was quick to tell you off and take your place, pulling the man onto her lap.

You just shrugged making your way to Robot and Amanda. “What’s her problem?” You mutter while subtly checking everyone out for injuries. Rex almost crashed onto you as he groaned, arm swinging over your shoulder. “She’s pissy because you and the ass were a thing, and she thinks he still likes you.” You frown, hand hovering over his face to fix the bloody mess. “That’s stupid. We weren’t. And if we were and he was still after me she should put herself first and find someone who won’t make her feel like that.”

“Wait- they are together? Like for real?” You look at the others as they get closer, most nodding. “You two weren’t? You really expect me to believe that-agh! You did that knowingly!” Rex cried as a bone set back in place quite painfully while you simply answered with a yes.

“Most of the heroes thought that. You two were pretty friendly for a while.” Black Samson shrugs. “Yeah, because we’re both immortal. We were venting about that, we understood each other, and then… Omni-Man happened, and he called me and my brother ticking bombs. Too dangerous to be helping.” Amanda hissed at that, face cringing. “Damn, that’s such an asshole thing of him to say.”

“I don’t hold that against him. But we are not our father, he should know better, and I won’t hang around him until he apologizes and means it.” You looked over your shoulder as the man in question groaned. “Speaking of- time for me to go.” You let go of the healed Rex, pat Robot’s head, and high-five Amanda. “See you later, losers.” Rudy looks at Amanda. “Why did she pat my head?” Monster girl snorts. “It’s called affection- don’t!” she slapped his hand away. “Don’t do that to me, I’ll break your legs.”

Before you could lift off the ground once you were far enough the woman you saved before quickly stopped you, calling you over. “I just wanted to thank you. Have you eaten? Perhaps I can buy you something? There’s this café down this street, they make amazing toast sandwiches and milkshakes.” You just laughed; not like you could say no to free food. “You don’t have to thank me or pay for-“ You tried to be a lady and politely refuse, but the woman insisted, urging you to take her and have a little break.

“Alright, ma’am, you won.” You smirked as you picked her up before taking flight. “May I know the name of who’s paying for my meal, at least? I mean, I may start thinking you’re an assassin or something if you keep being so mysterious and pushy.” You teased while following her directions, but she just gave you a smirk. “I’m Talia.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Bruce was sitting next to Jason, looking at the kids and rogues, but his eyes couldn’t help but drift to the murals. “She really did all of this?” Jason just nodded at his question. “She did a lot. This is a small thing. Your foundations can only do so much, Bruce. Sometimes people need community, need love, and support, and to feel like they belong. She gave that to a lot of people here.”

He nods to the murals. “When she was painting those, some kids tagged it. She caught them and asked them to join, telling them she’d pay. And she did. It was enough for those kids to keep a roof over their heads while we were building the affordable housing building down the block, and it was enough for them to put towards education.”

“One is aiming to be an engineer and the other two are going for art subjects.” Jason looks at the man. “Many of the goons Batman was fighting quickly quit and started working at the orphanage or the hospital once they found out they could afford to live and their wants with the salary offered. You can’t always solve shit by paying for buildings, sometimes that does the opposite. It just makes shit more expensive when it has the name of some billionaire attached to it.”

“This? Helping each other, creating things they can afford while opening job opportunities everyone is qualified for, and nobody will have to break their backs only to decide if they should pay for groceries or rent that month- that helped. It brought the crime rate down. Sure, I still sell drugs, crimes still happen, but surprisingly that has gone down for my zone too.”

“She has a job now, a well-paying one. So, the allowance you send mostly goes to this- I think she even sends some of her actual salary here. I began adding to it, and Penguin started doing similar on his turf.” Jason shrugs. “We gather it all and split it so everyone can pay bills, can have money for groceries, and clothes, and even have some extra on the side. Some still don't get paid enough due to the government not wanting to fund us, but what we put together helps make what is a 7-dollar-per-hour job into a 20-25-30-dollar-per-hour job. When she sends too much, we either give bonuses or put it to vote and repair something. It usually ends up being that, it’s how we repaired the local kindergarten and school. It’s how we repaired a lot.”

“I never knew-“ Jason just laughs at Bruce. “Yeah, I didn’t either. I was a little shit like you, too, remember? It took me dying to see that.” The young crime lord looks Bruce in the eyes. “That’s why I won’t tell you where she is, what she does, who she is now.” Bruce looks at his son, the tiredness in him shining through now more than ever. “She’s in Chicago, lived in NYC for a bit.” The older man mutters.

“I’m… I’m afraid of how she’d react, of what I will find out if I go looking for her.” He whispers and Jason simply shakes his head. “You’re afraid she’ll reject you, brush you off like you did. You’d deserve it. Everyone in this blasted family would.”

Bruce nods. He wasn’t able to sleep for a while after finding out one of his kids was missing and he didn't even know. He mostly sat in his office, in front of his parents' portraits. Every single one looked more disappointed in him than the other- he knew that wasn’t possible, they were paintings… but a part of him also remembers those portraits being- happier.

“Have you gone in her room yet?” Bruce shakes his head, his question waking him from his thoughts. Nobody did, not even Alfred, the guilt was eating everyone alive, he was sure Dick would cry or break something if he even looked at her door. “You should.” Jason insisted. “Call the others, you all are going to look into her room, into her life, and see what hell we all put her through.” The young man nudged the older man to get up when Cobblepot came closer, trying to put Bruce to more work. He wasn’t doing this to better them, Jason wanted the family to be broken. It was selfish, but being selfish is what made him your favorite rogue.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“So, how was everyone’s day?” Debbie’s nightly question was asked again as she set her drink down.

“Well, instead of marrying a fish I ended up fighting a sea monster and then I finally moved into my dorm with William.” Mark said as he ate. “I have hella parental issues, and I think everyone should compliment my achievements more because I almost cried when this lady I ate lunch with said she was proud of how quickly I grew in my powers.”

“You almost cried?” Debbie asked, worry on her face at the revelation. Maybe they should have put you in therapy the first time you came clean with Bruce’s neglect. Mark, however, was more fixated on the unnamed lady, knowing you were mostly joking. “…You went on a date?” You sigh. “No. Stop doing that overprotective older brother BS, you look like a mangy Chihuahua acting like that.” He just pouted.

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxsworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion @lovebug-apple @sillysealsies @tsxukikami @enchantingarcadecreation @alishii @d3nnji @itsberrydreemurstuff @yuyuzi-ling @welpthisisboring @1abi @mxvoid26 @persephone-kore-law @bluevenus19 @ryuushou @asillysimp @aalunar @cxcilla @sirenetheblogger @pinkluv29

[fancyfeathers]

The Fruits

Yandere!Villain/League of Assassins Damian Al Ghul x Robin!Darling

Yandere!Batboys as Villains with Robin!Darlings AU Masterlist

T//W- drugging/poisoning, forced feeding, paralyzation, nonsexual & nonconsensual food play, nonsexual & nonconsensual knife play, nonsexual & nonconsensual blood play, slight/implied cannibalism (but not really), Damian is early twenties in this and Robin!Darling is implied to be in her late teens

Yandere!League of Assassins Heir Damian Al Ghul who has never met his father, instead being fully raised by his mother and grandfather and being named the heir of the Demon’s Head. He is practically a Prince in the League of Assassins.

Yandere!League of Assassins Heir Damian Al Ghul who hears about the little sidekick his father from his grandfather, the little bird had thrown a knife through Ra’s Al Ghul’s hand to protect the Batman. He is angry, no one should do such a thing without consequences for their actions.

Yandere!League of Assassins Heir Damian Al Ghul who goes to Gotham to find the so called Robin who did such a thing and finds a young lady who is nothing like he imagined. He wants to hate her, but no matter how hard he tries he cannot seem to such a thing, let alone put an end to her miserable life. He wants to kiss her and make her bleed at the same time.

Yandere!League of Assassins Heir Damian Al Ghul who gets a rush of euphoria hearing her scream when he finally pins her down on a rooftop one night on her patrol, her screams and cries ringing in his ears as she begs for mercy as he carves into the delicate skin in her back in a language that is old and she’ll never be able to understand it, it roughly translates to ‘Bird With Clipped Wings/Helpless Little Bird’

Yandere!League of Assassins Heir Damian Al Ghul who lets her live and get away with the carving on her back, after all his plans of killing her have suddenly changed and he needs to receive permission from his mother and grandfather for what he wishes to do.

Yandere!League of Assassins Heir Damian Al Ghul who after a number of months of planning and preparation has his little bird kidnapped by assassins he trained personally for this specific job, assassins told to use a particular poison to knock her out that will temporarily paralyze her for however long Damian wishes for her to be immobile, assassins he has no problem killing after the job is done because he felt sick to his stomach with the knowledge that they were the ones hurting her.

Yandere!League of Assassins Heir Damian Al Ghul who lays his darling’s head on his lap and lays her body on a stone bench in a courtyard garden in a hidden League of Assassins base. It is far away from Gotham, after all Gotham had no weather that one would only find in the desert.

Yandere!League of Assassins Heir Damian Al Ghul who holds his darling’s head up when she begins to wake up, lost of her body completely numb, who can only blink and move her jaw, not even talk or move her head up and down.

Yandere!League of Assassins Heir Damian Al Ghul who feels a jolt of excitement when he sees the fear in his darling’s eyes when he takes out the same knife he used to carve into her flesh, only for him to reach where she can’t see and grab a piece of fruit, an apple, and cuts into it. Carving it up into small bites he can easily slip into his darling’s mouth, prying open her jaw and pressing the piece of fruit and his fingers against her tongue, nearly making her gag around his fingers…

“Oh you are doing so well, my beloved…”

Yandere!League of Assassins Heir Damian Al Ghul who, despite all his cruelties towards his little Robin, is being surprisingly gentle with his darling, one hand feeding her, the other hand is running his fingers through her hair while he whispers soft praise to her.

Yandere!League of Assassins Heir Damian Al Ghul who cannot believe that the same girl who is practically lapping at his fingers, albeit against her will, is the same girl who his father, who has never known that Damian is his son, has chosen to be his partner, his sidekick…

“You are such a pathetic little thing, are you not?”

Yandere!League of Assassins Heir Damian Al Ghul who’s cruelty returns in the blink of an eye, reaching for another pieces of fruit, or rather a handful of twelve pomegranate seeds, and pushes them to her tongue, but even when she swallows he doesn’t move his fingers from her tongue, instead they come around to pinch it and pull it past her lips…

Yandere!League of Assassins Heir Damian Al Ghul who hold his knife to her tongue, the blade threading to cut through as it leaves a soft red line in its wake…

“Let me make this clear my love, try anything, anything at all, test my patience or put a foot out of line then you will never speak or taste again, do I make myself clear?”

Yandere!League of Assassins Heir Damian Al Ghul who knows she cannot respond but the look of pure fear in her eyes is enough of an answer so he pulls back the blade which has collected the smallest bit of her blood.

Yandere!League of Assassins Heir Damian Al Ghul who brings the blade up to his own lips and makes his darling watch as he lick of her blood from the blade, cutting his own tongue slightly in the process which he collect with his finger, getting a taste of the juice from the pomegranate he forced on her tongue.

Yandere!League of Assassins Heir Damian Al Ghul who forces his darling to swallow his own blood, because what is more romantic than having a piece of the one you love most inside of you?

Yandere!League of Assassins Heir Damian Al Ghul who will absolutely cut off his darling’s tongue if she does not behave herself and swallow it whole like the fruits he feeds her.

[celaenaeiln]

Bruce: *losing it* I need to find this killer. I need to stop him now before someone else’s becomes a victim- WHY WONT THIS CAR GO?!

Jason: First, I removed the tires, and second- HAS SOMEONE CALLED DICK YET?!?

Tim: I DID HE SAID HE’S ON HIS WAY

Steph: WELL TELL HIM TO “ON HIS WAY” FASTER! BRUCE IS READY TO BUST OUT OF HERE!

Damian: FATHER STOP THIS UNACCEPTABLE BEHAVIOR, GRAYSON WOULD BE DISAPPOINTED!!

Dick: *rushing in* hey, what’s wrong? What’s wrong, B?

Bruce: Dick! I need to stop this psychopath, he’s going to kill everyone in Gotham.

Tim: YOUR ARM IS IN A SLING, YOUR ANKLE IS SPRAINED, YOU HAVE THREE BROKEN RIBS, A BARELY BANDAGED KNIFE WOUND, INTERNAL BLEEDING- WHO ARE YOU GOING TO STOP IN THIS CONDITION?!

Dick: Okay, I got it. Bruce, open the door.

Bruce: *opening the car door for Dick*

Jason: Oh, ofcourse, he listens to the Golden Boy. Sure guess the rest of us are invisible or shit then.

Dick: *hopping in* *removing the manual brake lever*

Dick: okay, let’s go.

Jason, Tim, Steph, and Damian: what.

Bruce and Dick: *speeding off on tire rims and no breaks into the dark Gotham night*

Jason: WHAT THE FUCK! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?! WE HAVE TO GO AFTER THEM!!

Steph: Alfred, what happened?!

Alfred: *Wiping down the plate Dick grabbed the last cookie off before zooming away with Bruce* A lifetime of trust and experience, young master Stephanie.

Damian: Pennyworth, did you know this would happen?

Alfred: I’ll be sure to let Master Dick know to bring you along next time.

Damian: tt. Acceptable, I suppose.

Based on this:

Batman and Robin (2011) Issue #23

Batman (2011) Issue #14