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luv-lock · 2 months ago

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ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤSTRAWBERRY BABYㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Jason Todd x Fem Reader

☆⁠ SYNOPSIS : You Just Gave Birth To Your Child, Jason's Child, The Love Of Your Life. But Everything Went Wrong When You Saw The Child...

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

Your life was supposed to be perfect right now. You just gave birth to your beautiful baby—a moment that should have been magical, joyous, and filled with happy tears.

Instead, you were losing your mind.

Because the baby in your arms… did not have black hair. Not even a single dark strand.

No.

Because the baby—the tiny, fresh-out-the-womb infant that you had just spent hours screaming into existence—was blonde.

Blonde.

BLONDE.

And he looked exactly like Jason.

Now, for most normal people, this wouldn’t be an issue. In fact, it would be a cute, happy moment—"Oh wow, he looks just like his dad!"—but you? No. You were spiraling. Because Jason had black hair. Jet black. Dark as the night. Dark as his soul (romantically speaking).

And your baby?

Your baby had a tuft of blonde hair that made him look like a tiny cherub sent straight from heaven.

Which made no damn sense.

You hadn’t cheated. Hell, you barely even looked at other men since getting together with Jason because—let’s be honest—your man was already borderline psychotic when it came to his jealousy.

So, if you had cheated (which, again, you HADN’T), you would already be dead. There would be no hospital room. No baby. Just a Jason-shaped shadow standing over your shallow grave.

But that didn’t change the fact that you were staring at your son, this tiny, beautiful baby with blonde hair.

Which would be fine. If Jason had fucking blonde hair.

But he didn’t. He had black hair.

You were a hundred percent sure of that. You had run your fingers through that thick, inky hair so many times. You had tugged it when he pissed you off. You had yanked it when—

That didn’t matter right now.

Because either you had just given birth to the wrong child, or—OR—

“Oh my God,” you choked, your voice cracking as you looked at the baby in your arms with sheer, bone-deep horror. “Jason’s going to think I cheated on him.”

The room went silent.

A nurse looked at you with wide eyes, hesitating mid-step. Alfred, ever the picture of composure, cleared his throat, carefully folding a tiny onesie. And Dick—because of course Dick was here—froze mid-bite of his celebratory snack, a hospital pudding cup, before slowly turning to you.

“Uh… what?”

“I didn’t cheat on him,” you gasped, convulsing in hormonal sobs as you clutched the tiny baby closer to your chest. “I didn’t! I swear I didn’t!”

“I mean, obviously,” Tim mumbled, looking more alarmed at your emotional breakdown than at the situation itself.

But you weren’t listening. You were spiraling, your voice getting more frantic.

“Oh my God. What if they gave me the wrong baby?” you whispered, eyes darting wildly around the hospital room. “What if some poor woman out there has my real baby? And I have hers?”

“Miss, please,” Alfred sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Damian, perched in the corner of the room with his arms crossed, made a disgusted sound. “That’s your child, idiot. It looks just like Todd.”

“NO, HE DOESN’T!” you wailed. “JASON HAS BLACK HAIR!”

Damian just scoffed. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I—WHAT?!” you shrieked.

Dick sighed dramatically, putting his hands on his hips. “I can’t believe we have to do this right now. Jason’s gonna lose his mind.”

That set you off even worse. Jason’s gonna lose his mind?! Oh God, oh God, he was going to think you cheated. He was going to leave. He was going to storm in here, take one look at the baby, and—

You sobbed harder. Ugly cried harder.

Bruce actually looked like he was reconsidering every decision that led him to this moment.

“Uh, wow,” Tim muttered.

“I didn’t cheat,” you repeated, voice breaking. “I mean—how would I even have the time?! Jason’s always around! He’d kill anyone who looked at me for too long! It doesn’t make sense!”

“Why are you trying to convince us?” Damian scoffed. “Shouldn’t you be telling Todd?”

Your stomach dropped.

Jason.

Jason wasn’t here.

Oh, God. Oh, fuck.

“I—I love him so much,” you sobbed, clutching your little (wrong?!) baby. “I—oh my God—what if he leaves me?! What if he thinks I—Oh God, he’s gonna think I cheated, and I didn’t, I swear—”

“Jason’s going to break the door down when he gets here,” Tim muttered, rubbing his temples.

“No, he won’t,” Bruce grumbled.

CRASH.

Jason absolutely broke the door down.

It slammed against the wall so hard that even your baby, who had been peacefully asleep through your meltdown, flinched.

"Fucking Gotham traffic, I swear to—"

He froze.

You were crying.

Sobbing.

Hysterical.

His brain ran a million miles per hour. Did something happen? Did you change your mind about the name? Did one of the nurses insult you? Did he leave the oven on? Did someone die?

His eyes darted to the baby in your arms.

Tiny. Swaddled. Breathing.

Okay. Not dead.

So why the fuck were you crying like this was a damn crime scene?

"Uh," Jason started. "Baby? What’s wrong?"

You let out another broken sob, clutching the baby to your chest.

Jason panicked.

You started crying so hard you couldn’t even get words out. Just absolute, gut-wrenching sobs while Jason rushed to your bedside, grabbing your face.

“Baby, baby, what’s wrong?!” he panicked, his voice an octave higher. “Did they hurt you?! Are you in pain?! Do I have to kill someone?! Is it Bruce?! I bet it’s Bruce.”

Bruce exhaled through his nose, deeply unimpressed.

It's just made you cry harder.

"Oh, God—what happened?! Are you okay?! Is the baby okay—"

"Jason, I SWEAR I didn’t cheat on you!" you blurted out.

Jason blinked.

Everyone collectively flinched.

"…What?" Jason said, voice flat.

"I didn’t cheat! I would never cheat! I love you, and you were my first, and I would never, I would never, I—"

"Baby," Jason said slowly, trying to wrap his head around this absolute fever dream. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

You let out another shaky breath, eyes darting around the room in pure panic. "T-the baby, Jason. Look at him."

Jason frowned, stepping closer. He looked at the baby. Looked at you. Looked at the baby again.

"…Yeah?" he said, confused.

"He has blonde hair!"

Jason blinked.

Then blinked again.

Then turned to the rest of the family like they had the answers.

Dick rubbed his temples. "Jay."

Jason turned back to you, lips parting like he was about to say something, then stopping. Then opening again. Then stopping.

“I swear I didn’t!” Your sobs renewed, your shoulders shaking as you held up the tiny, peacefully sleeping baby. “But look at him! He has blonde hair! He looks exactly like you! But you have black hair! I think I got the wrong baby, or I cheated on you in my sleep, or maybe you’re going to leave me—”

Jason stared.

Then he turned, slowly, toward the rest of the room. “…Did you guys let her spiral like this on purpose?”

“Yes,” Damian said, unbothered.

“Absolutely,” Dick grinned.

Jason inhaled deeply.

Then, to your absolute shock, he let out a long, tired sigh—before shoving a hand through his hair and grumbling, “I fucking forgot you didn’t know.”

You hiccupped again. “Wh—what?”

Jason gave you a flat look. “Babe. My hair. I’ve been dyeing it black since I was a kid.”

Your breath caught. “Huh?”

“Because of him,” Jason added, jerking his thumb toward Dick, who just wiggled his fingers in a smug little wave.

Silence.

More silence.

The world stopped.

The Earth stopped spinning.

Your breath hitched. "You…"

Jason nodded.

"You… had blonde hair?"

Jason nodded again.

You sniffled. Sniffled again. Processed this information.

Then immediately let out a loud, gut-wrenching, ugly sob and buried your face in your hands.

Jason Todd. Your husband. Your big, scary, six-foot-four, muscle-bound, leather-wearing husband. The man who used to be the meanest street kid in Crime Alley. The man who could disassemble a gun with his eyes closed and had murdered actual people.

Had spent his entire life dyeing his hair because he wanted to look like Dick Grayson.

“Oh my God,” you whispered, eyes wide.

Jason groaned, rubbing his face. “Babe—”

“Oh my God.”

“Listen, it’s not—”

“You mean to tell me I’ve been married to you this whole time thinking you had black hair, but you’re actually some kind of undercover blonde?!”

“Strawberry blonde,” Tim corrected.

Jason shot him a glare. “Shut up.”

You gasped, gripping his jacket like you might collapse. “You mean to tell me this baby is actually yours?”

Jason exhaled. Then he stepped forward, resting a warm, solid hand against your cheek before pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead.

“Yes, babe,” he muttered, lips brushing your skin. “He’s mine.”

"Oh my God," you wailed. "I’m so stupid."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa—" Jason sat on the bed, grabbing you. "You’re not stupid. You just had a baby. And hormones. And clearly, no one ever showed you my baby pictures."

"This whole time," you hiccupped, voice muffled, "I thought they swapped our baby, and I stole some random kid. I thought you were gonna leave me!"

Jason sighed, rubbing your back. "Sweetheart, I would never leave you. Especially not over our perfectly fine, baby."

Damian scoffed. "Tt. As if anyone else would willingly have a child with Todd."

Jason shot him a glare. "Not the time, demon."

Dick sighed, stepping forward and ruffling Jason’s hair. "Guess we should’ve mentioned that whole blonde thing earlier, huh?"

Jason glared. "You think?"

Stephanie shook her head. "I thought everyone knew. It's, like, a family fun fact at this point."

"I DIDN’T KNOW!" you shouted.

Jason pulled you into his arms, still rubbing soothing circles into your back. "It’s okay, babe. It’s okay. I promise."

You sniffled, eyes red and puffy. "So… he’s really yours?"

Jason pressed a kiss to your forehead. "He’s really mine."

You let out a weak whimper. "I wanna see your baby pictures."

Jason chuckled. "Alright, sweetheart. When we get home, I’ll show you all of them."

Tim crossed his arms. "I have them saved on my phone."

Jason turned his head. "Why the fuck do you have baby pictures of me on your phone?"

Tim shrugged. "For emergencies."

Jason squinted. "…What kind of emergencies?"

Tim smirked. "Like this one."

Jason pulled back, finally looking down at the baby in your arms.

And—oh.

The storm in his eyes vanished.

Replaced by something warm. Something deep. Something soft.

The big, scary Red Hood, suddenly looked—small.

Awe-struck.

Because there, curled in your arms, was a tiny, sleeping baby with blonde hair and soft little features that looked just like his.

Jason swallowed.

Then, hesitantly, he reached out, brushing his fingers over the baby’s little fist.

“…Holy shit,” he murmured.

Dick grinned. “You made a clone.”

Jason turned to you, eyes softening.

Then he kissed you—long, deep, and full of love.

“I love you,” he muttered, lips still against yours.

— MASTERLIST ☆

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

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martiniluvr · 10 months ago

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18+ minors dni

dick! jason! bruce! triple-whammy so y’all forgive me for going AWOL xoxo

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

dick grayson fantasises about making you cum in front of a floor-to-ceiling mirror over and over again. he wants to spread your legs apart while he holds your back against his chest, fucking you with his fingers as he whispers in your ear about how fucking pretty you look like this. the thought of you, all shy and flustered, clenching around his fingers as your nails dig into his arms, makes him smirk; he knows he’d have to tell you to keep your eyes on him—what’s the matter, baby? don’t get shy on me now.

“dick?” you ask, furrowing your brows as you point to the large mirror in front of you, and he blinks. “did you hear me? I asked if this mirror would look good in our room.”

jason todd fantasises about stripping you down and fucking you while he’s in his full red hood gear. he’s been surveilling a suspected drug den for hours, and all he can think of is the contrast of your soft, delicate skin against the rough material of his pants as he drills into you from behind. his breathing quickens under his mask as he imagines running his gloved hands over the curve of your hips, squeezing harshly as you whine at his cock splitting you in half.

he pictures himself pulling you back towards him, so you’re forced to look into the thin white eye-slits of his mask as he fucks into you harder, towering over you in all his armoured glory—until a bang from the building across the way snaps him back into the real world. he swears under his breath as he checks his ammunition again. someone’s gonna pay for that.

bruce wayne fantasises about fucking you in his seldom-used executive office in wayne tower. disinterested by the stacks of financial reports in front of him, he imagines you on his lap, your skirt bunched around your waist and your panties pulled to the side as you grind down on his hard cock. his eyes flutter shut at the thought of you biting back your moans and clinging to his shoulders, gasping when his lips find your neck, and the image is so vivid he swears he can almost smell your perfume.

he’s about to send you a be ready at 7 text when the phone on his desk rings, and he swears under his breath as he answers it harshly. mr. wayne? his receptionist murmurs. miss—I mean, your…um…friend is here. he sits up in his chair at her words, smiling to himself as he loosens his tie. “send her in.”

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ellana-ravenwood · 6 months ago

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“Batman, you need to-IS THAT A BABY ?!” - Batfam x Fem!reader

Synopsis : Bruce and Batmom bring their newborn daughter to the Watchtower, so she can meet their friends (or vice versa). Includes an overprotective Damian, League members who cannot believe the Batman is smiling, and other shenanigans.

Oop, I’m back (?). My dudes. It’s been TWO YEARS since I last posted here. Two. Years. I posted like, two life update...don’t know if some of y’all saw it, but long story short : I got married, I have a son now, and everything is going so well in my life that I didn’t really need the validation I got from writing online...Buuuuuuuuuuuuut, I still love writing. And so, after quite a long break, here I am :). Hope you will enjoy this, don’t hesitate to let me know if you do :

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

My masterlist : @ella-ravenwood-archives

________________________________________________

“You’re evil, you know that right ?” You say, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, my love.” He answers, a small smile on his lips. You turn to him and...Oh that smug look, that smug look you loved so much. He definitely DEFINITELY knew what he was doing.

And that it was utterly...evil.

“It’s going to be FUN !”

Ah, and here’s his little devil. Damian himself. He loved this. Partly because he thought it was funny to mess with everyone, partly because he liked showing that you guys were a family.

“They won’t believe their eyes !” His little voice kept going, followed by a big roar of laughter that sounded, by all means, more childlike than devilish.

“That they won’t, they always seem so surprised when Bruce acts like a human.”

Jason. Still not calling Bruce “dad” (except sometimes, by “accident”, and even him don’t realize he did), he’d only slowly been back at the manor, with all of you. And, for sure, a certain important event which happened about four months ago made it so he came back to live at home.

Dick chuckled and added : “Who would blame them ? We’re talking about a man who eats his burgers with a knife and fork !” He gestured to his father with his left thumb, his other hand shielding part of his mouth as if he was telling them all a secret, as if he was trying to be discreet, so his dad wouldn’t hear...Always quite the little clown, that eldest son of yours. With his exaggerated mannerism, and that sparkle in his eyes, in his smile.

“I’m certain some of them thought he was genuinely a cyborg for YEARS” Tim added, quite seriously, his tone the opposite of his older brother (and that was just his way of joking...you think). And honestly ? Yeah, you were pretty sure some of your friends at the JLA thought your husband was a robot, at one point.

Oh yes. That’s where you were going, to the JLA’s headquarters. To execute Bruce’s plan. Quite the evil plan indeed.

“Hell, even I thought he was one before I met you guys !” Duke chimed in, and that made Cassandra smile widely, as she shook her head up and down pointing at Duke as if to say : “what he just said”.

And in a very Bruce manner, your husband kept a straight face, ignoring his children’s teasing. Only you, saw that twinkle in his eyes, that smile that might not reach his mouth, but was definitely dancing in those bright blue eyes.

Oh yes. Yes, your friends were in for quite the surprise.

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

Meanwhile, in the Justice League headquarters :

“Oh, hey ! Look, Batman’s zeta tube is turning on ! We haven’t seen him in a while right ?”

Indeed they haven’t. Because, well, let’s put it this way : Batman’s wife just had a baby.

A baby girl (finally, right ? You and Cass weren’t TOO outnumbered anymore).

And Batman had been VERY busy doting over his baby girl.

Batman had been busy being Bruce Wayne.

Just a man, who thought he’d never be happy again, not knowing how to handle all those feelings he had for his wife (for you), for his children.

That was happiness then, right ?

So, yes. Batman hasn’t been much at the JLA’s headquarters lately. But your husband thought, it was finally time to go see his friends a little bit. He knew they were all up there, because it was their monthly reunion (once each month, they gathered to talk about the state of the world, the universe, what threat lingered, what lurked beyond...and to get very drunk, and see their friends, the only ones who knew what it meant to be a “hero”).

And that what’s made him particularly evil.

He knew, they would all be there. He knew what their reaction was going to be. After all, his memory was amazing, he definitely hadn’t forgot the way they reacted the first time they saw you, the first time they learned he had children (childrEN, plural !).

And he knew they were a little worried about him.

He had missed their last three reunions, and only answered : “Everything is ok” to their messages asking if he was alright (they hadn’t dared to go see if he was indeed ok, because last time they did that, they found him bed ridden with all the bones in his body broken, and he got so mad at them for butting in his business he worked twice as hard when he was fine again, and didn’t talk a WORD for months...that was, of course, years ago, before you were in his life, but the experience was still in their minds and so, they decided to respect his privacy, he would come to them when ready). And he never pushed his “red button”, him, or anyone in the family.

They just assumed he was busy, they hoped it wasn’t anything bad.

Yes. They were worried. For him. For you. For your kids. For Alfred. For your dogs, your cats, your cow...They. Were. Worried.

And Bruce knew.

You told him, when your pregnancy was confirmed, to tell his friends. That they would be happy. But after his own initial happy thought, his surge of hope and love at knowing he was going to be a dad again, he started to make his plan.

Why tell them, when you could toy with them ?

“They deserve it.” He told you, and you weren’t sure if they did, but you weren’t about to fight him on that. After all, you too, thought it could be amusing. Amusing to hide your pregnancy, making up excuses as to why they couldn't come see you, and you didn’t come up the headquarter. Amusing, to even hide it quite expertly from any form of news (Bruce was a MASTER of disguise, not only for himself), so it would be a real surprise.

Amusing, to have your little girl in secret, with only your family. Amusing, but also what you wanted. For this good news to be just between you, your children, and Alfred. Your close family. Because you had too few things that just were yours.

This had to be yours. Your thing, your secret, your own happiness. Yours, and only yours. And you found it was good, that you guys spend the first few months of your daughter’s life only between yourselves.

It was nice, to go out “disguised” as a normal couple, and show your daughter Gotham (and how her little eyes already tried to take the entire world within them).

It was nice, to live in total privacy for a little bit.

So, yes, you had been a little selfish. And he had, too. You knew it wasn’t just to prank his friends, he kept it all a secret. That it was also to have some quality time with his family. To spend the first few months of his daughter’s life being the only one being utterly smitten with her.

Though, this last thing wasn't true...You were, too. And your children ? Let’s just say your daughter had not been alone ONCE since she was born. And she seemed to love it.

Whenever she made the slightest sound, smiled, laughed (or cried), they were there, Bruce was there, absolutely loving that little baby.

She was almost 4 months old now, and Bruce thought that the gist had to be up. What scale did he use to measure this amount of “readiness” ? You had no idea. You thought he was just now ready to share his happiness with his friends, and not just his close family.

And so here you were, after months of secrecy carefully crafted and orchestrated by your husband, in the JLA’s headquarters, along with your family, the little new addition to said family in your husband’s arms.

Evil. Your husband was downright evil.

He knew that what was about to happen would have a massive impact on his friends. He. KNEW.

And as the zeta tube brought all your family up there, you knew that as he saw their faces, your husband was a little TOO happy with himself for his little “prank”.

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

“Batman, are you al- IS THAT A BABY ?” Very typical, very in character : the first to react was Flash himself.

None of the other noticed, and they seemed inclined to think Barry had lost his mind but then...

Bruce’s face didn’t move an inch, he just held that little “package”, and had his same stoic expression except...Except there was a little hand grabbing at his chin.

Then another hand appeared out of that bundle Batman carried, with a bat plushie bunched in a tight fist, shaking it and...Cooing.

Cute little sounds, and the way- EXCUUUuuUuuuUSE ME ?

The way Batman just softly looked at her, the way his cold expression was replaced by a tender one as he lowered his eyes to her ??

WHAT ?!

They knew. They knew he had THE softest spot for his family. They knew his scary aura greatly dimmed when he was around his wife and children. They knew that when they weren’t there, he was only made of shadows. They were his light, his salvation.

They knew he didn’t have the same face expression, when they were around.

Well, when they were looking at him...Barry swore that Batman loomed around his family, standing menacingly behind them, his eyes cold and calculating as if he was ready to fight any seconds to save his loved ones, and then whenever they turned to him his feature would instantly soften. He will ALWAYS remember the first time he met little Dickie, 9 years old and so full of joy and life, and how whenever he would look at Batman and talk to him, said Batman got a softer expression somewhat, but then when Dick turned around, Batman looked about to murder them whenever they came too close from him.

Once, Tim, also 9 at the time, years after the JLA met Dick, told Barry matter of factly : “He doesn’t kill people. He could break your knee caps though” in a very Tim fashion. The kid was serious. And had noticed the aura surrounding his dad, how it changed when he was around (he noticed more than his siblings, because for a while, Bruce had been really cold and distant with him, since he met him not long after Jason’s death..understandable. So he was the only one who had this sort of behavior aimed at him, the shield Bruce put in front of him to keep everyone away so he wouldn’t be hurt, the shield that now was lowered for them and only them).

It was his eyes. His eyes that were always hard and cold, became different when looking at you or his children.

Not to say that his family never exasperated him, or that he never had his “mask” around them. After all, Bruce’s stoic expression was his face by default. It’s just that he was often too focused. And that he spend years practicing hiding his emotions, practicing keeping a blank face. Because Barry also remembered seeing Dick perched on his father’s shoulders, letting himself dangle in his back, his head upside down, whistling and kicking his feet, and Bruce having this stoic mask on, concentrated.

Anyway, they knew all that. It had been years, since Bruce finally trusted them enough to bring his wife here, and his kids. But yet, yet they were still surprised sometimes.

Like today.

The picture of Batman holding a baby was...a little weird.

Even if he opened up to them over the years, he was still mostly very cold, distant and aloof. You know, Batman. That’s just who he was. So sometimes, to see him so devoted to his wife or kids, it was odd to say the least.

And right now, as he walked towards them with a baby in his arms, the shock was real. Damn it, will there be a day when the Bat didn’t surprise them with something ?

How did none of them notice you were pregnant ? Proof again Batman was a master of his craft. And that little girl...

Oh your daughter was such a beaming ray of sunshine, that in his arms it was particularly a jarring image.

The big scary bat, tall, broad shouldered, muscular in every way, his face void of expressions, holding a tiny baby who kept smiling at everyone around, and playing with her plushy.

Odd.

Yet, sweet.

Were they surprised ? Yes.

Were they a little mad he hid something (AGAIN) this important from them ? Definitely.

Were they shocked that his daughter was so darn cute and smiling and laughing that much ? Not really, because you were his mom too.

Were they happy for him ? For sure.

Were they going to adore that little girl ? Probably as much as they adored his other kids already, which meant...yes. Yes they were going to.

Damn that bastard Bruce. Always so sneaky.

Hal, couldn’t help but think : “First, he’s not a vampire, then, he’s married with children, and now, he has that cute baby. This guy ??!!”

***********

The initial shocked passed, and only after your children MOCKED all of your friends (you had to give it to Dick, he knew how to imitate them so well..and when Damian joined in ? Oh, oh it was a fit of laughter impossible to fight that attacked them), did they approach your daughter.

“Her name is Martha.” Bruce said “We named her after my mother.” and it wasn’t his usual flat tone he used as Batman. No, it was a soft voice he usually only reserved for his kids. And the reason he was using it now ? Well. He didn’t want to scare his daughter, as he still held her.

She beamed at him when she heard her name, and babbled some baby nonsense. She then turned towards all those new faces, and you saw Bruce’s hand hold her a little tighter.

Your beautiful, sweet soul husband. He clearly was worried she’d be scared, meeting all those new people. Especially since they all wore mask. But Martha-

Martha let go of her bat plushy (which Damian caught before it touched the floor, rolling on the ground in a way you thought was quite comedic. Oh, that boy), and lifted her arms up towards-

“What a sweet little girl !” Diana said with a voice you NEVER heard her use. You realized it was her “voice reserved for babies and domestic animals”, and it made you smile. It was higher than her usual voice, and full of softness.

You thought your daughter reached for her because she could feel the warmness in your friend. And after all, amongst all of those gathered here today, she was probably the one that adored babies the most.

Diana looked at Bruce, who only inclined his head a little to give her the ok to lift her from his arms but-

Another arm stopped her, and took the baby away.

Damian.

Damian, the one who took his role as a big brother a little too seriously.

He held Martha protectively against him, and literally sneered at all your friends.

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

Damian deemed most of them unworthy to hold his baby sister, and only Clark ended up being allowed to carry her. And that was partly because Clark was the only one who knew about Martha, the only one who saw her already, and he had months to convince your son to trust him with her.

Being an extremely close friend and all, you just couldn’t hide this from him and... no, really, you literally couldn’t hide this from him as he was the immediately noticed that second heartbeat when he listened in to make sure you and your family were safe. Bruce hated when he did that, but Clark wasn’t about to let them be in danger without moving an inch.

Anyway, Clark was allowed to hold her, but he gave her back to you rather quickly because your son’s stare made him uncomfortable. If eyes could kill, right ?

Damian took his job as an older brother very seriously. He would protect her at all cost. And you had no doubt that he would be the kind of person to burn the entire world down if it meant saving his family.

Damian only glared at everyone, letting them approach ONLY after they put on a surgical mask so they wouldn’t give her their “viruses or whatever”.

You had to admit he was a bit much, and you asked him nicely to calm down a little. He relented on the face masks, but made them all wash their hands (twice).

You ruffled his hair affectionately, what a sweet little boy. It broke your heart, how so many people judged him too fast. He really was, a nice kid. With a heart of gold. He just didn’t have much luck for the first few years of his life.

But he chose to be like this. Chose to love, instead of hate. Chose to protect, instead of attacking.

Although, right now, as Diana came back towards his sister, he definitely seems ready to high kick her (which definitely wouldn’t have hurt the amazon).

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

It was a hassle, to convince Damian to let go of his sister so they could hold her. As per usual, it’s Dick who managed to convince him, saying Martha was all soft and cute, and everyone deserved to hold her at least once. Adding that if one of them dropped her, he would be allowed to do whatever he wanted to them.

Some of the mightiest heroes of the planet were gathered hear, but the threat didn’t fall on deaf ears. Damian could be a little intense, and scary sometimes.

They weren’t fooled by Dick’s agreeable smile either. A smile that didn’t always reach his eyes. They knew if they messed up, he would find every way to rip them to shreds. Dick was often seen as the calmest of your children, but his anger issues from when he was a child were never far. And he could be ruthless.

Diana held her first, and your daughter babbled to her excitedly.

Of course, being only 4 months old, she just talked gibberish. And it was so sweet, how Diana answered her : “What ? *babbles from your daughter* Noooooo. *more babbles from your daughter* I can’t believe he said that. And then what ? *babbles babbles babbles*”.

After that, Dick took her back, and asked if someone else wanted to hold her, under yours and Bruce’s watchful eyes.

Then again, in the room, many were also already parents and knew how to hold a baby. They weren’t too worried, except-

Except Dick, that little sh-, had found a new game in recent weeks. Whenever he gave his little sister to someone else...he pretended to drop her.

And it made him laugh and laugh and laugh, to give mini-heart attacks to EVERYONE whenever he gave them his baby sister to them, as they always all panicked and screamed seeing her dropped (Dick always had her secure, he only pretended to drop her of course).

“Oh no careful !” He’d scream, dropping his arms suddenly (she looooved it) while still gripping her, and they’d scramble to catch her, and he would just laugh.

“You little-” Hal’s colorful words were...imaginative. And Damian was inclined to agree, since his brother pranked him oh, I don’t know, only about A HUNDRED TIMES since their little sister was born.

You wouldn’t admit it, but it made you laugh a little too. Even if he got you a few times as well, pretending he was going to drop her. Then again, you trusted your eldest son. Once you and Bruce wouldn’t be around anymore, you knew he would hold this family together.

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

Martha was a calm baby. She let people hold her, curious enough to not fuss and watch them all intently. It made Barry uncomfortable, how she held his gaze and would just stare at him.

She would stare, and stare, and stare, and her bright blue eyes were EXACTLY like Bruce’s, it felt like being stared down by a miniature version of Batman.

He didn’t like it. So he gave her back to whomever was closest, which happened to be Jason

Jason, who was always very delicate with his little sister. He handled her as if he’d break her. It broke your heart, to know he probably literally thought that.

He refused to hold her at first, sure he would hurt her. But she kept reaching for him, crying when he wouldn’t take her, and she was so adorable and-

He caved, of course. After a little while. And he was oh, the fixture of a patient older brother. You knew he would ALWAYS be part of her life, and step in whenever she needed to.

Right now, she was grabbing his hair, which were getting quite long, and pulling hard on them as babies do and- He didn’t say anything. He just let her do it.

You really hoped she wasn’t going to take advantage of this when she’d get older, even if you already had visions of her having her brothers and father wrapped around her little finger, having her sister too, and...apparently, the entirety of the JLA.

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

“How can such an a-hole make such a cute baby ?” Hal said, looking at the little girl he held. She was sort of dozing off, which for sure was adorable.

Bruce only glared at him, which amused Hal greatly. He just gave him the shock of his life, he could laugh at his expense a little, right ?

“I believe, to make a baby, you need to-”

“Um, no, Jon, please, I know how to ! It’s just-Oh, forget it.”

Flustered, Hal Jordan was flustered. Jon J’onzz didn’t seem to get why, but then again, human sarcasms and irony were still very foreign to him. He always answered pragmatically to people.

Talking about pragmatism. Hal handed back your daughter to Tim, who slipped her in his favorite new contraption : the baby carrier 3.0 (of his own design). Made so he could do all sort of work while having her strapped to him. Keeping an eye on her at all time.

Tim adopted the use of a baby carrier, so he could still work while taking care of her (he stole the idea from his dad, who definitely hung around with his daughter EVERYWHERE with that thing...which was the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen, this tall broad man and this tiny baby attached to his chest).

It was so cute to see her little feet dangling while he was working. Damian nearly lost it when he found Tim WELDING two pieces of metal together with the baby carrier on his front. Tim merely said : “I made her baby sized goggles and a fireproof pyjama, she’s fine, and she likes it” and indeed, your daughter didn’t have a scratch, and cried when Damian hauled her away from the sparks. Ooooh the smug look on Tim’s face as his brother gave her back reluctantly. Damian’s was utterly vexed.

Vexation he forgot just a few minutes later, when Martha decided she had enough of sparkles and made little sounds of protest (not quite cries), and reached her little arms to him.

As of now, Tim had her in this baby carrier again, and was strolling around the JLA headquarters, showing his new little sister to everyone.

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

Cassandra didn’t say a word, as per usual. She never liked big crowds, only spoke to those she trusted the most. Her brothers, her parents.

She only gestured to others. Remained quiet. But she monitored every little movements.

Hawkgirl approached her sister ? Noted. Carefully studying every move. Martian Manhunter asked if he could hold her ? Noted.

Superman made little babbling sound at her, while her dad held her ? Noted, with amusement. It was funny, to see one of Earth’s mightiest hero grimacing to a baby to make it laugh, while said baby was held by another mighty hero who was utterly stoned face. Cass’ smiled at her dad, who smiled back for a fraction of seconds before Clark shifted his head up to look at him too, and Bruce went back to his : “ -_-” face, by reflex really.

Cassandra never spoke much, but she loved a lot. And her way of loving her little sister ? It was to always keep a watchful eye on her, so she could react to whatever she needed. And give her space when she needed to.

She had many brothers, she often joked that if she lost one, she could just replace him (a joke you didn’t like much, because you knew it was just a self-defense from her, to shield her heartbreak at the mere idea of loosing a sibling), but only had one sister...

Yes. Your youngest child definitely held a special place in everyone’s heart.

And you could see her slowly creep in every members’ of the Justice League’s heart too.

Gods, you couldn’t even imagine what would happen to the person who would one day try to hurt her. You could bet, though, he wouldn’t get out of it unscathed (to say the least).

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

Martha was particularly fond of Duke’s inuit kiss. He had the capacity to instantly calm her, and he could easily feel her inner emotions.

As she was passed around everyone, and she started to be tired and cranky, he simply retrieved her and brought her to Bruce, because he knew that was her preferred spot to fall asleep.

He kissed her on the forehead, and sure enough, she was asleep before he could pull away. Your husband put a warm hand on Duke’s head, a warm smile on his face. That boy could always tell what others felt. It was a gift, really, and sometimes a curse as others’ feelings could leak into him. Which is to say that sometimes, when others were sad, he would be too...

But for now, he felt content. At peace. Because his dad was, too.

And indeed, Bruce, holding his sleeping daughter against his heart, his hand supporting her head gently, was utterly at peace.

He loved the idea that his arms were his daughter’s favorite place to sleep, and never refused to hold her to help her sleep. You sure were a little jealous, but he told you : “They all always come to you when they need comfort, one kid out of six, you surely can give me, right ?” and though you knew he was joking, it broke your heart a little.

So, you let go of your jealousy, and let him have this indeed. Martha was definitely a daddy’s girl. And that was good. You could see the impact on your husband, how having a baby in the house soothed him.

He loved his kids so damn much. He often said they were his lights. And the fact Martha found comfort with him ?

It reminded him of his own parents. How he would go to his mom, a Martha too, to find the same comfort. To fall asleep in the same way.

You let go of that small jealousy, as you saw her falling soundly asleep, cuddled up against her dad. And it was funny, how Bruce would take his usual Batman persona, stone faced, standing straight and-

Having one of two fingers held tightly by both of his daughter’s little hands. She grabbed them as he took her, one hand holding her (she was so tiny...and he was a big dude), the other, she used as a sort of comfort plushy. She held them with all her might, as she slept.

And Bruce was speaking battle plans, and you had to fight the laughter in you as all your friends couldn’t help but stare at the scene, not knowing how to feel.

Hal snickered at one point, and he made a gesture for him to zip it, and it was quite an odd scene, as he held his daughter and did that childish gesture.

Seriously. That guy !!

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

Batman smiling was...different.

They all got caught staring at him, when he had his daughter in his arms. Staring because his broad smile was-

Well. Broad.

It wasn’t his signature smirk. It wasn’t a soft smile. It wasn’t a half-smile. It wasn’t a smile that you could only see in his eyes.

It was a full on big ass smile (as Barry would say).

And sure, they already saw him smile like that (although he schooled his face back to “stone mode” when he noticed them looking), never that much.

As if the birth of his daughter gave Batman another new light, and it was just impossible to yield to his old demon, to brood, when holding that ray of sunshine.

It made them all feel...soft. And warm.

It was nice, to know the bat wasn’t just a machine. They forgot it sometimes, that he was, in the end, “just” a man. They forgot why he became Batman. The pain and guilt he held inside. But moments like this, they were reminded of it.

That the Batman didn’t exist because of hatred, but because of love.

Because he loved his parents, his city, and now-

His family.

It was nice, to get reminded that there was a man below the mask. And though he could be an “a-hole” sometimes, there, holding his baby, he was just that.

A loving man, who wanted to protect others.

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

You made a note of every moments you would cherish forever of you introducing your daughters to them all :

1. The shock on their faces as they beheld the sight of THE BATMAN holding a baby against him, and being so delicate.

2. Your daughter being the star of the show, all of them smitten with her !

3. Your friends wanting to hold her, and how they beamed at her (and she beamed back, except with Barry, whom she only stared at for some reasons).

4. Dick’s “game” of pretending he dropped her, and their panicked reaction.

5. The success of Tim’s baby carrier, and how now, there was always one up in the tower.

6. Diana and how it definitely seemed like she would move mountain for that child.

7. How Clark’s eyes filled with tears again, as he looked at Martha. Because it made his friends so happy. You and Bruce. And especially Bruce. And Clark was an emotional man, who suffered too, and was just so happy “The Batman” was happy.

8. How Jason seemed at peace with his little sister, and how whenever he held her, he seemed less weary than usual around everyone. Like Cass, he didn’t like much being amongst too many people. But now, it felt like he had an “emotional support baby”. Ah.

9. Their reactions, past the shock, welcoming that new life in the world.

10. How Bruce monitored his daughter being held by his friends, holding your hand. Even after all those years, when he acted close to you in his Batman costume, it made you...feel things. He always kept a facade as Batman. A facade that would crumble with his kids, and especially with you. PDA weren’t rare. And even after years at his side, it always made your heart beat wildly when he showed affection towards you in public, because it meant-

Oh it meant so much.

And you had so many more moments forever ingrained in your heart from that day spend up at the JLA’s headquarters.

Too many to count. Some sweet, some hilarious-

All positive feelings.

And as you and your family stepped back in the zeta tubes, your friends saying “byyyyye” to Martha especially, with their baby voice (making Bruce roll his eyes), and as she waved at them-

Waved for the FIRST TIME ever oh.

Oh it felt like you would die of happiness.

And still, Bruce’s hands held yours tightly.

He knew.

He knew, you were the source of this happiness he thought he could never find again.

He knew.

He never loved like that before.

Yes. It felt like you could just die of happiness.

__________________________________________________

And here we are. I hope you enjoyed this. Don’t hesitate to comment and/or reblog, it’s always greatly appreciated :).

Also, initially, the child was going to be Thomas (their son in my “main” storyline, if you already read a few works from me), but last minute, I was like : “wait no, I want to give Bruce a daughter, and the boys a sister. Also, poor Cass eh ?” and here we are. I really hope you liked this; I’m nervous for some reasons. Anyway. See you soon with another one ?

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sangunary · 16 days ago

Text

YANDERE BATFAM x NEGLECTED READER

-Hush now crybaby.

SYPNOSIS: When your family only cherish you after your death.

Warning: Child neglect, bullying,violence, gore, death.

\\ Part 1 // \\ Part 2 // \\ Part 3 //

You were the blood daughter but not the same as how Damian was, you were from a simple one night stand your father had... A mistake.

Ever since your mother left you behind with your suppose Father your life took an unpleasant turn.

Your life with your father was supposed to be colourful and exciting afterall you've been watching the other kids playing with their Fathers in the park. You remembered how envious you were back than, how everybody have a sibling to talk about, but for you? It wasn't that much of a talk on your end and you felt boring.

It broke your little heart when you realised that... Family really suck.

If it wasn't true than you wouldn't be standing alone on the stage while everyone else have their father's by their side.

It was supposed to be a father daughter day.

You inform him yourself even picking out a new dress for the special occasion with Alfred but your Father wasn't even near sight.

You were holding back your tears, gripping onto the end of your new dress looking at the ground.

Each time your heart pounds against your ribcage you could feel the agonizing pain that sent shock throughout your whole body.

The tears in your eyes were filling, dangerously close to bursting out. Yet you tried your best to not spill even a drop of tear.

Everybody called you a crybaby, but you weren't a crybaby just- it's hard to understand why you even cry ay times.

It wasn't your fault your poor heart couldn't handle their harsh word... It's not your fault your heart is fragile, it just needed some love and maybe a tint of understanding to fix it.

"Im sorry kid, I can't bring you to the park on Tuesday, me and little wing made an arrangement that we would go to the museum" Dick words ring inside your ears.

"But you said- you promised me that you'd bring me to the park... last sunday, I ask first" You replied, your hand's wrap around the little bear that you were going to give to your older brother... To thank him for bringing you to the park.

You couldn't help but feel a terrific ache inside your heart.

It wasn't fair, Damian asked today and you already asked last Sunday! And Dick and Damian already went to the museum together last monday...

"Im sorry but... Damian you know how he is, he's just cold and opportunities like this never come often, you have to understand. You're a big girl" Dick reminded you.

You couldn't help but let out a little huff. Damian that Damian this when was it ever about you. Even on your birthday Dick always brought present for him!

You remembered how Dick gave you a silly bunny doll abit chewed on, said it was his dog old/favourite doll... While Damain received a literal book signed by the very author on your birthday!

"You... promised first!" You spit back.

You were on the verge of crying spilling it all out. You grip onto your doll as you looked at the ground a drop of tear fall from your eyes and land on the marble floor.

And that's when you heard the disappointed sigh from your older brother.

The floor was clean enough to the point you could see your own pathetic face... Face red and eyes watery... You look ugly.

"Kid look... See this is why I choose Damian, you're too... spoiled, you can't just cry to get what you want. If you don't change this behaviour I won't go out with you"

"I-"

"No 'I', you're extremely spoiled and Damian isn't. This is why I don't want to go out with you, Damian is somewhat more shameful than you"

You swallowed your Saliva, staring into the marble. Tears began to rain as you couldn't stop them from spilling, you wipe your tears with your hands which wasn't helping.

You sniff and hiccup not daring to even look at Dick.

It was very clear who the favourite was from the beginning. Even if you were to get stab Damian would be the first they check on for any scar or scrab.

Every night you would weep inside your room or bathroom, grabbing onto anything and wrapping it around you to envision the warmth of comfort.

"Jason?" you called out. You only called out because you were on the verge of crying and you could smell the cigarette and you knew only Jason smoke.

"Jay?" you called out again, walking towards the balcony, you're in desperate need of comfort now. It was your birthday yet nobody remembered even Alfred forgot it.

It was terrible, the only thing you asked for was a little family dinner together having fun not everyone forgetting your own existence.

"Ja-"

"I heard you the first time"

Your hand's were twiddling with eachother, showing a clear sing you were somewhat anxious.

"Could you hug me? Please"

You cried out looking up at the older male.

You could never forget to say please cause last time it didn't end up well for you. They called you mannerless and even insulted your mother! You couldn't quite understand what Damian was speaking but he called a shame saying you ruin the perfect blood! to your face! Infront of everybody... Just because you forgot to say something!

"You're too old for one"

"I don't mind, just once please... it's my-"

"not everything have to be about you, princess"

Your smile flattered into a frown, when Jason first started calling you princess you were excited and extremely happy thinking he saw you as an amazing princess... Turns out that he only see you as a spoiled little girl... You heard it yourself.

"Just- it's my birthday and I thought a hug would be a very nice gift"

You spoke bravely again, maybe if you were persistent he might give up and hug you?

"...I don't want to hug you or acknowledge you, I don't want to hurt your little feelings but, do not indulged yourself with me. Is that clear?"

"Yeah... sorry"

Without a word you left the room, walking towards yours... Jason was compared to other's very good to you: he usually ignored your presence which was alright.

Before your reached your room you had to walk pass tim's and he was home but locked up again doing whatever he wished.

You could hear him mutter something from outside and you had a very nice idea.

After abit you knock on his door, your hand's wrap around a cup of coffee which you made yourself!

You knocked again. Nothing happened.

You knock thrice... Not even a sound.

Just than you decided to invite yourself in, afterall everyone in the family can definitely do that. You've never seen them knock to enter Tim's room.

"Tim?" you called out poking inside you check if he was there. Cause last time when you enter his room he went out the window, you found it funny.

The room was dark and the only source of light being the computer in which he was so absorb into.

Without thinking you went inside not forgetting to close the door.

"I made you coffee!" you announced to him.

"Thanks"

"...What are you doing" you asked hoping to atleast have a little conversation with him...

"Adult stuff" Tim was very vague.

"Can I se-"

"Im busy, put the coffee on the table and leave"

"Alright..."

You did as he asked and went towards the door and before you could even leave you watch as Tim throw the whole mug into the bin.

He definitely knew you were still in the room afterall he was smart he should know that. But, you didn't even speak up just suck it up and leave the room.

And as soon as you close the door, from the coner of your eyes you saw Damian. Looking at you directly.

Damian was bold and said lot's of bad stuff to you, as a result you spent half your day's avoiding him and as usual you tried avoiding him but... he stopped you.

"Where have you been?" His tone was surprisingly calm.

"Urm... I- was ugh..." You didn't know what to say? Told him that you were avoiding him and getting grounded or just yourself more of a victim than ever.

"You can't speak now?"

"I... sorry"

"Happy Birthday"

You couldn't even contain your shock face. Damian remembered your birthday? That's odd but very nice.

"Thank you!"

You couldn't help it, Damian of all people remembered your very existence... You felt important and that's all you need.

"There's a gift for you... Inside your room."

"Thanks! Im so... I thank you so much! I'll go check it!"

Before he could speak you ran towards your room all your tears gone now and you were filled with joy and excitement.

The moment you open the door to your room your heart dropped.

"..."

Your room was in ruined... Your heart dropped as you walk inside, your bed was wrecked your clothes were gone... most importantly the only picture of your mother was gone.

"What did you do?!"

You turned back, Damian was leaning against the door frame with that cocky grin on his face.

"Im helping you grow out your crybaby phase."

"What...?"

"See, crying again. Is that your only talent to cry until you get attention? Pathetic"

Without thinking you launched at him, it turn into a brutal fight but with Damian skill you were no match. He wasn't not going to pity you and you knew.

It took atleast two family members to seperate you two and stop the fight.

Jason was holding you by the hair but he wasn't pulling on it just silently threating you.

Everybody else were checking on Damian completely ignoring the fact that Damian punch you so hard your nose was bleeding.

And ever since that day everybody in the family saw you as the troublesome kid and whenever anything bad happened it was always your fault.

Not to mention how they even take a step further in ignoring you.

Every family movie night you would sit alone while everyone else sit in this big couch cuddling and giggling together. Even during Tag they completely forgot about you... Saying you were too old to play tag with them which made no sense...

Alfred was suddenly busy whenever you needed him and sometimes you had to walk home during a cyclone/rain because Alfred was busy.

Bruce become more strick and because of that your friends at school didn't even want to talk to you. Saying that as much as they wanted to be friends it to them it seems as you were ghosting them. You tried explaining even crying and begging humiliating yourself further... They never even dare to looked at you.

Everyday kept getting worse and you didn't even know what you did wrong.

You finally snapped out your thoughts and looked around... The same stage and same faces just- Bruce was still not present.

Salty tears stream down your face as you couldn't hold it in anymore. Everybody just stared at you and before your teacher could even ask you aside you ran.

You didn't know where or what your destiny was, your leg just moved on their own.

And before you knew it something hard hit you and your light were cut short.

From that day you found out you died, unfortunately you didn't went straight to haven and instead forced to stay on Earth.

You watched as your family finally acknowledged you. Always visiting your grave and even crying when nobody were around.

You felt happy, they finnally loved you!

But all it took was your life for them to realise their fault.

This Suck So MUCH.

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reywritings · 15 days ago

Text

Winner Takes It All

In which a family of detective's notice a suspiciously lucky trend when it comes to Jason's girlfriend.

Jason Todd x fem reader, no use of Y/N

All fluff, mostly slice of life, based of WFA for this one.

Enjoy this one! The next post is angst ��🙏🔥

______________________________________________________________

“You’re not gonna win. You never do.” Dick says, elbowing Tim as they play against each other in Mario Kart, after finishing a long case.

“Stop elbowing me!” Tim kicks at him, and it isn’t long before they’re trying to multitask kicking each other while playing.

“You’re both children.” Jason says as he walks in, with a raised brow at the two men, they glare back at him, and see you walking in behind him.

“This is pretty on par.” You say, shrugging it off, not nearly as disappointed with the two as Jason is.

Jason just rolls his eyes at them, giving you a shoulder squeeze as he goes to the library to grab what he came here for. Meanwhile, you lean on the back of the couch, watching the two play.

Dick addresses you in the middle of kicking Tim while trying to button smash at the same time, “Tell him I’m gonna win, obviously.”

You hum in thought. “Who’s playing as Rosalina?”

“Me!” Tim says, kneeing Dick again.

“Oh, well obviously I have to be on Tim’s side. Rosalina is the best character.” You nod, maybe your choice was purely for aesthetics but– its Princess Rosalina.

“What?!” Dick exclaims, and Tim laughs.

“She knows what she's talking about!” Tim says, pushing Dick’s leg off of him.

Dick rolls his eyes. “No, Toad is the best. And that’s why I’m gonna win–”

“I won.” Tim interrupts.

Dick stares at the screen slack jawed.

Jason walks back in, looks at the screen, looks at Dick, and then shrugs as he motions to you that he’s ready to leave.

Dick finally manages to glare at Tim five minutes later. “You got lucky! It was only because she rooted for you.”

Tim snorts. “Just admit you lost, dude.”

“No way! She’s a good luck charm. When have you ever beat me in Mario Kart on this map before?”

Tim considers that.

“Huh… what do you say to a science experiment?

______________________________________________________________

“I’m telling you, it’s definitely Kite-Man. Who else would be behind something as lame as this?” Steph asks, scoffing at the idea of it being anyone else. “Plus there was a kite at the scene.”

“Yeah. Which was at the park. Kites are in parks. That's what they do.” Duke counters, taking a seat at the kitchen counter, near Jason and you, the former seemed to show no interest in the conversation at all, but you turned to look at them.

“What’s this all about?” You ask with a raised brow.

“Someone stole all the hot dog carts at the park.” Steph sighs, bored by the mundane crime. Tim glances up, intrigued, but not because of the crime.

“My bets on Kite-Man.” Tim says, nonchalant. “..What about you?” He raises a brow as he looks at you.

“Uh– I’ll side with Duke. Keeps things even.”

“Thank you!” Duke seems genuinely touched.

Tim then pulls up the case notes on his computer, and looks for the latest police update.

“Well, what do you know? Not Kite Man.” Tim grins. This was sound evidence for him. Maybe you were lucky, after all..

Steph whips her head to Tim, eyes wide. “What?! Who?”

“Condiment King.”

“Fuck. I should have guessed that!”

______________________________________________________________

Four card games between Dick and Steph, a race between Cass and Duke, and three rounds of chess between Tim and Damian later, Tim and Dick reached the conclusion that you were, in fact, good luck.

However, in a family of detectives, it didn’t take long for a majority of the others to pick up on their scheme. Or to realize you were a good luck factor.

“I’m gonna win. Obviously.” Tim declared, confidently at the dinner table as they finished up– they were having a family dinner for once, and afterwards they were going to have a round of Mario Kart… which meant the winner only had to ensure one thing.

“Fat chance!” Dick scoffs, immediately giving into his competitive spirit with that comment.

“No. I am.. You should root for me.” Tim says, suddenly addressing you now.

“Tempting— but maybe I should sit this out with Jay.” You knew how game night went with this family, and you did not want to get in the middle of that.

“Or you could root for your favorite person?” Duke buts in, smiling as he slides his dessert plate towards you as a bribe.

“He’s gonna lose.” Tim points out, pulling the plate away.

“I’m gonna kick your ass!” Duke retorts,ripping the plate away from Tim.

“No— she should root for me instead! Root for me, please!” Dick says, bringing his hands together as he begs.

You just laugh, but Jason looks completely annoyed by them now. Since when did they care who she was rooting for?

“No! She’s rooting for me—” Tim starts again, swatting at Dick as he tries to push Tim further away from you.

“If she’s truly as smart as Todd says, she’ll root for me, obviously.” Damian interjects, a proud look on his face as he crosses his arms.

Jason narrows his eyes. Okay, what was going on here?

Steph rolls her eyes. “Guys— stop it. This is all childish.”

The boys share a look, feeling a bit called out now.

Dick looks at you. “We aren’t trying to make you feel uncomfor—“

“Obviously she’s rooting for me.” Steph says, interrupting him, standing up at the table as she grabs you by the shoulders.

“Oh fuck you, you did that for dramatic effect—“ Dick slams his hands on the table.

“Like you aren’t the drama, Circus boy!”

You shake your head, deciding then would be a good time to go use the bathroom, because evidently— they would notice if you weren’t there during the actual games.

As soon as you’re out of sight, Jason turns back to everyone else.

“Okay, what the fuck is this all about?” He glares at them.

“Nothing!”

“What’s what about?”

“None of your concern, Todd.”

“Language.”

They all respond, obviously too quick and dismissive with their responses.

“…I’m gonna ask one more time.” He says, slowly, making eye contact with everyone.

“…okay, fine— she’s good luck. That’s all.” Duke says, shrugging.

That gives Jason pause.

“What?”

Tim butts in, “Anytime anyone has a game or a bet— whoever she sides with always wins. I thought it was an anomaly at first but.. it’s happened too many times to not be a trend.”

“She’s like a lucky rabbit's foot.” Steph provides, leaning back in her chair.

Jason mulls over that thought. Anytime he played Mario Kart or a card game against Roy, he *did* usually win.. he thought he was just a natural but— he only won when she was home, too. He lost when she wasn’t there.

“…maybe there’s some truth to that.” Jason admits.

“See!” Dick says, glad this didn’t end in argument but also— he noticed it first, so he felt vindicated.

“Now we shall let her pick a team.” Damian says, ready to convince her why she should root for him.

“No.” Jason says, smirking a bit as he shakes his head. “..you really thought this would change anything? She’s going to root for me— and I’ll wipe the floor with you all.”

There’s a pause as everyone stares at him in either disbelief or anger.

“..I fear we made an error.” Tim mutters.

“I’m definitely playing now. Guaranteed to win? I mean— I probably would have won anyways.” Jason brags, standing up as he’s ready to go to the living room and start these games.

“You cheater!” Steph accuses, slamming her hand down on the table.

“We were trying to do the same thing though..?” Duke adds, scratching the back of his neck.

You walk back in— raising a brow at Jason as he’s standing up.

“Eager?” You ask, smiling creeping onto your face. “I thought you didn’t want to play?”

He wraps his arm around your shoulder as he leads you to the living room, you could make out his family’s argument and protests from behind you.

“Changed my mind. As long as I have you on my side, I’ll always win.” He smiles cheekily at you.

“How romantic.” You say sarcastically, raising a brow at his sudden affinity to participate in game night.

He grins at you, “And they say chivalry is dead.”

“…is this about me being a boon?” You question, side eyeing him with a soft smile.

“You knew?” He widens his eyes, pausing to look at you as you both stand in the living room door frame.

You snort. “Hard not to. They made it fairly obvious.”

“…you still gonna root for me?”

“Always.”

#jason todd x reader #dc comics #red hood x reader #batfamily #batfam #jason todd x you #jason todd #red hood x you #red hood imagine #red hood #jason todd imagine #x reader #reader insert #fem reader #batkids

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theobservatory · 16 days ago

Text

Waitin All Day｡⁠.ﾟ★ ˎˊ˗

｡⁠☆Synopsis: how they confess

｡⁠☆Cw: Grovelling, low self esteem, you take a slight backseat in this one bc it's about THEM confessing not you, suggestive on Bruce's part, you're in a bra on Bruce's part but gn besides for that

｡⁠☆CH: Tim ☆ Jason ☆ Dick ☆ Bruce

✧Bruce✧

Confession in the heat of the moment.

You honestly had no idea Bruce liked you. Sure, you've had a crush on him for going on a year now, but he's so gently tempered and naturally flirty. This man can hide a gunshot wound like it's no problem, let alone some romantic feelings.

You've watched him flirt his way into the pants of all types of people. Some for fun, some for missions, some for WE. Hell, it's not like two haven't done your fair share of fooling around either.

It's not like anyone could blame you. He's rich, kind, and so so handsome. Anyone would do the same in your shoes.

Most people would also advise against falling in love with the most eligible bachelor in all of Gotham, however. In fact, if you were giving advice to anyone else, you would tell them that this is only bound to end in heartbreak.

Yet here you are, drooling over one of your closest, richest, promiscuous, friends. Like an absolute idiot.

Bruce, on the other hand has been head over heels since you first met. He noticed immediately when you started reciprocating.

Did he start flirting with you way more, just to see you flustered? It's a possibility that he won't admit to, if asked. Did he ever actually act on his feelings besides for a couple way too intense make-outs and dry humping? No, he did not.

He's a vigilante, you're a civilian. It just wouldn't work. Even if you do know his secret, his life is dangerous, and he wants danger very far away from you.

Still, he's always been a selfish man. He ends up confessing to you anyway.

It's spur of the moment, words he didn't mean to say. Despite the fear of dragging into his life, of you being hurt or kidnapped, he doesn't regret it. He could never regret loving you.

｡⁠.ﾟ✧ ˎˊ˗

You're sitting on his lap while he's laid down on his bed. Your fingers drag from button to button on his shirt, teasingly unclasping them as you lowly ramble on about your day. You're telling a bunch of benign stories, things that don't matter, that Bruce would care to hear about any other time than now.

His pupils are blown a little as his hands hold your hips in place. He's looking up at you with a fondly playful expression, a tiny lit of arousal dancing in his features.

"What about you, Bruce?" You ask, fingers teasing the second to last button on his shirt. "How was your day?"

"Mine? Nothing but meetings on top of meetings, I'm afraid."

His hands begin to roam, slipping under your shirt to tease the clasp of your bra. He does the action like it's absent minded, like he isn't even thinking about where his hands are, but you know he's aware of what he's doing.

You lean down and kiss a few lines up his hard chest. The light stutters in his chest only egg you on. It's like a shock of boldness shoots through you as the tip of your tongue licks at his skin. You might regret that later, but now your hands come up to ghost over his nipples under the guise of shifting his button down.

"I'm sorry your day's been so boring." You murmur into his chest.

"It's much better now."

"Yeah?"

His hand finally unclasps your bra.

"Mhm."

You're flipped suddenly. When your vision is straightened out Bruce's shirt is completely gone, leaving him bare on top of you. It's not easy to bury the heat crawling from your throat to your face, but you manage. Eventually.

Your shirt is next to go, exposing you to the chill of the room. Goosebumps instantly appear on your shoulders, but Bruce is there to rub them away.

"You're gorgeous." He whispers. "Exquisite."

You think that's a bit romantic for a friendly fuck, but okay, you're not complaining. Bruce is the man of your dreams, you'll take whatever placating words he wants to give. You can play pretend. It's like roleplay that hurts your heart afterwards.

Bruce must see a shift in your body language, or maybe he can tell you're not taking his compliment seriously. He frowns deep, an upset furrow in his brow.

"I'm serious. I've never been with anyone as tantalizing as you." His hands run up your shoulders to trap your wrists above your head. "You're beautiful, kind, charming." He plants a kiss to your throat with every compliment. "You're everything anyone could ever want."

You begin to slightly tune out his words. The soft dominance he's displaying is sending you into subspace faster than you want it to. That soft and fuzzy part of your brain is beckoning you back with Bruce's gentle, loving hands. It's too hard to shove it away.

"Do you understand that I'd make you mine if I could?"

"Yours?"

He pauses. You don't see the look of understanding cross his face when he realizes you're slipping away from him. You're turning into a needy puddle under his hands faster than you know, and quicker than you ever have. You barely process when he locks eyes with you. That heady fondness in his eyes that makes you grow warm, turning your already slowly melting brain into jello.

"Mine." He repeats. "I'd take you around to every party, every gala. Wear you on my arm to show off how lucky I am. Would you like that?"

"Mhm."

"Good."

Your lips lock, and one of his hands runs down your sides, feeling you. He leaves tingles behind the pads of his fingers.

"I'll tell you again later, I swear. I'll repeat it as many times as you need me to."

✧Dick✧

A confession connoisseur.

You've been dancing around each other for months. It's painful for everyone involved, including yourselves.

It's not like you both aren't aware that you like each other. You'd have to be blind not be aware of how gone you are for each other.

You both face constant questions. "Are you guys together?" "When are you going to start dating?" "You know he likes you, right?"

Which yes, of course you know he likes you. The man follows you around like a big puppy, and he won't let you open doors if he's around. He basically already acts like your boyfriend.

Heaven forbid you flirt with someone while you're out with him. He's behind you looming, looking just like the big bat himself. So mean, and so protective for someone who isn't your boyfriend.

You always make as much known as well.

You're happy to take another guy's number if he gets his ass in gear. Dick's "You're not actually gonna call him, are you?" Goes completely ignored.

His confession takes forever because he is determined to make it perfect. Richard Wayne-Grayson is a boyfriend extraordinaire, and he wants to make sure you're aware. Hell, if he could swing it he'd ride in on a horse, swoop you up, and ride off into the sunset, like some sort of cheesy Disney movie.

And they say chivalry is dead? Wrong. It's right here.

｡⁠.ﾟ✧ ˎˊ˗

You're staying the manor for tonight. Dick is home visiting his family, and as usual, you're glued to his side. Whether it was by choice this time is anyone's guess.

Everyone's out on patrol, Alfred's down in the cave. You're alone in this giant house, besides Damian's various dogs and cats, of course. You took the chance to bond with Titus, you're both down in the family moving room, lounging.

Then a text pings on your phone, causing Titus to sniff at you.

Where r u ?

You roll your eyes.

The manor. Where else ?

No I mean wat room ?

Movie room. The small one.

Perfect. Look under the couch

You do, Titus staring at you with judgement when your back cracks from leaning over the arm.

There's a folded up piece of paper with a heart and your name. "Check the kitchen ♡"

Your phone pings again.

Have fun :)))

From there is a trail of clues. Different pieces of paper. Some with simple riddles attached, others with blatant directions, a few with gifts attached to them. At some point you even have to find Alfred to give you another little slip of paper, much to your embarrassment.

The end of the trail leads you straight to Dick. He's got a soft look on his face, his hair slick, but framing his chiseled face. He's wearing a suit as well, a gorgeous outfit in his hand, clearly tailored for you.

"Hey, pretty girl."

"Grayson."

"Ouch, so cold to the man who's about to ask you out."

You smirk, a lovey-dovey emotion rolling around your chest. "Well, I'm waiting."

Dick pulls you toward him, one hand in yours, the other around your waist. He pulls you in so close your nose touch, and then slots himself in the crook of your shoulder and neck.

He whispers your name, but it comes out like a doggish whine.

"We're not even together yet, and I think I like you too much. My heart's beating so fast, it's making me sick. You're my favorite person, you're the one I want to spend the rest of my life with- or at least, spend whatever time you'll give me, with you. I'm sorry it took me so long to say it."

You're speechless for a moment. You're clutching him, mouth agape, unable to see each other's faces.

"Baby, love of my life, will you be my girlfriend?"

"Oh Dick, of course I will."

"Great, because I made dinner reservations for two, and it'd be awkward if I showed up by myself."

✧Jason✧

Thinks you deserve a confession, but is as emotionally constipated as his father, unfortunately.

You know he's trying to confess months before he actually does it. You can see it in the way his fingers linger on your skin, how his cheeks flush when you catch him staring. It's adorable watching this giant wall of a man stumble over you like a little school girl.

You also know Jason is much too proud to allow you to confess first. He would never forgive you if you beat him to the punch, so you wait patiently. Well, maybe not patiently. You're complaining to any friend that will listen to you, griping over how cute it is, but how it's driving you mad that he won't just ask. There's no chance in hell you would reject him, and Jason should know that! You've made yourself incredibly obvious.

Still, he spends months trying and failing to confess to you. He'll start, quiet but firm, a little flush on his cheeks. But the moment he looks at you it all falls apart. His heart stutters, causing his brain to stutter, causing his mouth to stutter, and then he just ends up covering your face with his hand.

You pick fun at him as he tells you to shut up, but you both know he'll have to deal with it until he actually finally confesses.

｡⁠.ﾟ✧ ˎˊ˗

"Hey."

You know just by his tone where this is going, you've already played this song and dance twice this month. Still, you tilt your head towards him, giving him your utmost attention.

"Hey yourself."

You're sitting on your couch as he's leaning against your wall. His arms are crossed, eyes averted to the ground. It's weird to see such a big man looking so... Tiny...

Jason huffs out a mirthless laugh. "Sorry, I just- I... Fuck."

"Jason?"

"No, don't talk or I'll lose my nerve again." You smother a giggle with your hand. "Don't laugh either, asshole."

You open your mouth to say sorry, but think better of it at the last second. Your mouth shuts with an audible click.

"Th-Thanks. Listen, 'm sorry I haven't been... The most forthcoming with my emotions. I'm trying, but it's- fuck- it's hard, but I'm trying. I'm trying to be better, I want to be better, for you. It's not fair to confess to you when I can't even talk about how I'm feeling, but I'm still doing it anyway because I'm an asshole. God, I'm such an asshole, but-"

"Jason."

"Let me talk, please. I'm an asshole, I'm cruel, unempathetic, and I'm so scared I'm going to hurt you. You deserve everything and more, and I can't even give you half of it, but-but I'm still begging you to give me a chance. Please."

He's made his way over to the couch. His head is pressed onto your knees, his hands squeezing your calves. You press a hand into his thick black curls, gripping the strands as you run your finger through them.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Jason, did you think I was going to say no?"

"Well- no." Really, you can read each other like books at this point. "But I think you should say no. I think if you had any sort of self preservation you'd say no."

"But?"

"But you're the most reckless Gothamite I've ever met, you wouldn't know self preservation if it punched you in the face."

You laugh, and he looks at you with a fond exasperation.

✧Tim✧

Not the confession type.

He's the type to get worked up about the confession. The type to plan and plan and plan until he can't plan anymore, then scrap the entire thing the moment he sees your face.

Because this isn't good enough for you. Nothing is good enough for you. You deserve anything and everything he could ever give, just a 251 step plan? Not enough.

So getting together with Tim is less confession, and more evolution.

It's "I made us coffee" to "let's hold hands" to "I miss you" to "I love you". It's gradual, soft, and easy. Boundaries are pushed in the most gentle way they can be, words are shared in sounds soft enough only you can hear them. It's a cat's type of love, distant, but intimate at the same time.

｡⁠.ﾟ✧ ˎˊ˗

"I've been thinking about selling my apartment." You say, gazing around at the intermingling of yours and Tim's things.

Your books occupy his bookshelves, and your favorite mug is stacked on top of his dirty dishwasher. The hamper of clothes in the bathroom has your underwear in it, but it's balled up inside one of his shirts. His bedroom smells like your perfume, and his pillowcases smell like your hair products.

Tim's gaze snaps up from his laptop. "I think it'd be good for you to get out of that tiny place anyway." His hand has made its way to your thigh, right above your knee. "It's not like I don't have the room."

"I figured I should tell you first."

Tim's gaze also sweeps around the room. His eyebrow quirks as he turns back to you, making you flush a little. It's not like all your stuff isn't already here. There really wouldn't be a difference in whether you kept your apartment or not, except for how much cash is in your pocket.

"You're sweet." Tim placates, giving your thigh a squeeze before turning back to his work.

Chat here's my confession... I think love confessions are cringe I'm sorry </3 it's just... I'm aro and have vulnerability issues. Tim Drake, you're the only one here who gets it the rest of y'all... Pack it up... (I say as if I'm not the one who wrote this)

Originally was gonna include Damian and Duke but the post was getting laggy.

This is my first time writing Bruce. Did I do well ?

｡⁠☆Requests Open

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miniaturesuitgladiator · 2 months ago

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Platonic Yandere batfamily x

Child Girlscout reader!! Pt1 Pt2 Pt3

'In a world where you can be anything...Be kind.'

Kindness was like a sickness to Gotham.

People avoided it at all cost. And they mostly had a good reason to. Kindness could cost you your life in gotham.

So instead the people in gotham were a little harsher then most. Some were sweet enough to offer pity but none offered true kindness.

Not even the children in gotham were dumb enough to trust people. Just like their parents they hid from opportunities to be kind.

The richer kids in gotham were cruel mostly because they were spoiled. And kids who didn't have a dime in their name only cared about themselves.

So bruce was surprised when you willingly got in his car. With a smile none the less. Of course you didn't really have a choice he was going to make you get in one way or another.

But Bruce doesn't necessarily think your dumb just a little too trusting with people.

But your not helping with the way you don't even ask how he knows your address.

Alfred sent it to him of course.

You sit happily in the passenger seat with your wet red wagon in the trunk.

And as you talk about various things Bruce can't help but to imagine how you grew up to be so....kind.

Sure your still a kid. But he doesn't know one kid that smile drops at every homeless person they see.

Or how when he asked you what you want to be to grow up you say 'I want to doctor like my mama...so I can help people!' You'd say with the brightest smile.

And gods bruce would do anything to keep light in your eyes bright forever.

He knew how painful Gotham could be especially to the less fortunate and by the looks of your torn up shoes you are one of the less fortunate people.

But that doesn't stop the smile on your face from becoming bigger each time you see a kitten in a yard.

Pulling up to your small house that's in Bruce's opinion not big enough to even be called a house.

But still you smile as the car comes to a stop right infront of your small house.

Hopping out the fancy car that has no business being in a place like this you pay no kind to the nosy neighbors that whisper among themselves but Bruce does.

Walking up to your front porch and pulling out your key from your pocket ,you unlock the door and Bruce pulls your little wagon inside.

The house is small but Bruce has to give it credit it is quite cozy and neat....but far to cold.

"Oh no...." You say as you walk up to the old beaten up thermostat.

Giving the old thermostat a couple of good hits it still doesn't turn on and you sigh as you make your way to your room.

While Bruce just stands in the living room awkwardly as he closes the door.

Walking back into the living room you hand Bruce a blanket thats far to small for him but he takes it anyway.

"The heaters not working agian...so we'll just have to cover up!" You say giggling as if it's funny.

"Again?" Bruce mutters repeating your words.

But as Bruce watched you and how you comfortably sat on the couch with your cover that wrapped around you. You seemed so nonchalant about it. To nonchalant about it.

Because to you this was normal.

Awkwardly Bruce takes a seat beside you on the couch. And you unconscious snuggle up to his side closing your eyes.

Bruce can't help how his heart flutters in his chest at your cute action. None of his kids have ever really wanted to touch him.

Atleast Not without having gone threw something traumatic.

So by you simple snuggling up to his side had made the man feel wanted. No needed.

Looking at the walls Bruce sees some pictures of you and your mother and one with a man.

He doesn't exactly know if he's your father or not but either way Bruce is undeniably jealous of the unknown man.

Oh, what the billionaire would give to be your father instead.

It's not long before your breathing evens out and your passed out snuggling up to Bruce.

It's a peaceful moment but Bruce can't help but think that your still far to trusting. But he's partially thankful for that.

Because he knows if your weren't so trusting he'd never be in this situation right now.

But before bruce can even really enjoy the moment the house phone rings and you jump at the sudden sound.

And much to Bruce's disappointment you stand and up and wipe your sleepy eyes answering the phone.

It was your mom...and she did not sound happy at all.

"Baby how the heck did you get home?!" She says talking so fast you could barely understand her. But you did hear her old car as she drove.

And as you glance at the old clock you see it's 2pm yep she was definitely off her shift now.

Which meant she was on her way home.

"And please baby for the love every living thing on the earth tell me that the neighbors are lying. And that you didn't let a rich man drive you home?!"

Oh now you know she's mad. And you hear her car getting louder through the phone as she hits the gas as if she already knows your answer.

"Mama it was raining.....I was scared." You whine and your mother can't really stay mad at you because it is partially her fault.

And because your far to cute to be mad at.

"Where is the man now baby?" She asks her voice quiet so no one but you could hear.

"On the couch mama...."

She groans and mumbles a quiet "of course he is." Under her breath.

"Pass him the phone baby. I'd like to talk to him for a minute please." She says her voice shaking with fear and anger and you don't dare disobey her.

So you walk up to Bruce and hand him the phone.

Bruce being puzzled and prepared for what the women might say takes the phone and puts it to his ear.

"Hello?"

"I don't know who the fuck you are but I swear to every fiber in my fucking body if you even think of touching my baby I'll kill you!" She swears.

And Bruce glances at you and you just give him a nervous smile. And he can't help but notice how diffrent the women in all the pictures sounds then what he would expect.

In all the pictures she looks sweet. Not as sweet as you but with big smiles and happy looks. But as she screams every curse in the world at him he can't see the resemblance.

"I'll be home in literally 2 seconds you better be fucking praying to God you didn't hurt my baby." She says as she hangs up the phone and she was true to her word.

Because before Bruce can even begin to process everything she said she pulls into the driveway. And quickly makes her way to the door.

She hurriedly pushes the front door open ignoring how hard the door hits the wall.

She looks like a crazy woman furious and her eyes almost red.

But Bruce thinks he'd be the same if he where in her shoes.

Your mother's gaze immediately softens at the site of you. And she sighs as you walk up to her.

She deeply inspects every part of you and cups your face. And after she sees that your just fine and haven't been touched.

Her gaze hardens at the sight of Bruce. Bruce sensing the uneasiness of the room decides to speak up.

"Hello ma'am.... I'm Bruce Wayne," He says already prepared to be the good person he is but he's surprised when your mother doesn't reach for his out stretched hand.

And she doesn't even react to his charming smile.

Instead?

Instead she smacks him.

"I know who the fuck you are. And if you ever touch my baby again it'll be your last fucking day." Your mother says and you gasp at the sudden action.

Even Bruce is to stunned to speak. He's more....surprised....and dare be say intrigued?

"Mama he didn't hurt me! He's really nice!" You say trying to stop your mom before things exploded even more.

And as your mom looks at you her gaze softs once more and glancing back at Bruce she feels sort of bad....

He doesn't necessarily look like a bad person.....

And you wouldn't lie...but then again you trust just about anyone.

She sighs going against her better judgment and teaching and let's her guard down.

"I'm sorry....for...hurting you. But you can't just take people's kids without permission..." She says and her hand grips your arm tightly still not trusting Bruce.

And Bruce likes that she's protective of you.

Because he knows he is too.

"It's...alright...if I was in your shoes I'd probably do the same." He says calmly as if the smack didn't faze him at all.

And your mother likes that he isn't being mean about it but forgiving. But still she feels bad and you tugging at her arm and giving her puppy dog eyes isn't helping her case.

She sighs agian knowing exactly what you want.

"How about you stay for dinner...." She says her voice betraying her true want for him to leave.

And Bruce reading the room would normally leave but as he glances at you your already smiling at him silently begging for him to agree.

And of course he couldn't just let you down! So he obviously agreed. Much to your mother's disapproval.

With a sigh your mother nods and mutters a quiet 'make yourself at home' to Bruce before she goes to start making dinner.

You being the absolute sweetheart you are you grab his hand which Bruce gladly let's you take. And he lead him to your bedroom.

"This is where I sleep! This is my bed! My toys which are really my best friends!" You say and your voice gets a little quieter at next words.

"And this is my picture of my daddy....."

Bruce takes a good like at the picture seeing that the picture was recently taken since you looked the same in the picture.

Bruce could almost taste how much he hated the man he knew so little about. Bruce takes in how the man looks having never seen him before.

Since he wasn't on your birth certificate Bruce couldn't find out anything about him. But just judging the man by how he looks. Bruce is definitely not impressed. Especially by how your tone goes quiet as you talk about him.

"Here's only here sometimes...." You say and your mother who had been standing by the door.

Since she definitely did not trust the a random man to be in a room with her baby alone. She speaks up. "Bruce...can you help me out with this?" She says and it's obvious that she doesn't really need anything but you obviously don't catch on by the way you keep staring at the picture of you and your father.

Bruce nods understanding her need to talk to him.

"You just continue playing with your toys baby...foods gonna be done soon okay?" Your mom says in such a sweet tone.

You nod putting down the picture and begin playing with your toy.

Walking into the kitchen your mom hits the thermostat and sighs as it still doesn't turn on.

"Here..let me..." Bruce says and your mother moves out the way letting the man do whatever it is he is doing.

And your mother still keeps her eyes on him as he continues working on the thermostat and she continues cooking.

"How often does this thing not work?" Bruce asks keeping his eyes trained on the thermostat.

"More often then not." Your mother says sighing.

"It's not very healthy for your daughter to be in this cold...especially when she's inside the house." Bruce adds and your mother scoffs.

"Not everyone was born with a silver spoon shoved up their ass." Your mother says as she rolls her eyes.

How dare he comment on what she could barely afford?

Now usually bruce would have something even more harsh to say back. But this time he didn't. Because he didn't want it to turn into a argument.

No, he needed her on his good side.

Atleast for now.

So he'd bow his head and apologize.

"I didn't mean any disrespect..."

"I know exactly what you meant." Your mother snaps and that throws Bruce off.

Because why isn't she buying his facade?

"I'm not dumb. And your not going to stand in my house and try and play me dumb. My daughter isn't a street rat." She says and her eyes are giving Bruce the meanest glare he's ever seen.

And he's quite....impressed.

"I didn't mean-"

"And she ain't no poor kid on the street either." Your mother continues interrupting him.

"She's good. She's a good kid. My kid."

And Bruce agreed to almost everything she said. Yeah you're a good kid.

but soon enough you'd be His kid.

💗Thanks for reading! 💗

Comments, likes ,and reblogs are appreciated!

This was highly requested so I hope you guys enjoy!

Taglist: @its-simply-just-krys

#yandere batfam #batfamily x reader #yandere batfamily #platonic alfred #platonic yandere #platonic batfam #platonic #platonic bruce wayne x daughter reader #platonic jason todd #platonic damian wayne #platonic tim drake #platonic yandere family #child reader #fem reader #female reader

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shortnsweetsposts · 4 months ago

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Jason: Cooking together is NOT romantic, MOVE the fuck out of my way.

Reader: I'm tempted to stand in your way while you cook now.

Jason: I'll boil you next.

Reader: When he's a cannibal 😍🥰💖

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invincibledc · 5 months ago

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Batsib!reader: Good responses for being stabbed with a knife?

Dick: Rude.

Damian: That’s fair.

Jason: Not again.

Tim : Are you going to want this back?

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marcyvamp1re-blog · 7 months ago

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SILLY LITTLE BAT

pairings ⸺ Yandere! Platonic! Batfamily x Anti-Hero! Fem!reader.

sinopsis ⸺ In the shadowed halls of Wayne Manor, a girl lost among the darkness seeks the connection she never had. Her mother, a kleptomaniac with a broken heart, vanished, leaving only echoes of empty promises. Surrounded by a family that never sees her, her pain turns into a deafening silence. The void left by her past traps her in a limbo of solitude and sorrow.

One dark night, seeking her own way, she became what she once despised. Now, like the albino bat rejected by its own flock, she flies alone in the twilight. Her pale skin glows in the dark, but her heart still yearns for the warmth of a home she never came to know.

warnings ⸺ Dark Themes, Dead, murdering,Disturbing Content, Unhealthy Obsession, Discrimination, Violence, Blood, LGBT Content, Child Abuse, Kidnapping, Implicit Sexual Content, Mental Illness, Addiction, Suicide, Torture, Corruption, Isolation, Trauma, Phobias, Paranoia, Manipulation

Chapter Guide! Pt 2. Pt 3. Pt4

A/N — English is not my first language—Spanish is—so there might be some grammar or spelling mistakes here and there. This is the first part of a story I’m writing for a friend (Isabel, I love you, you brat), and also an experiment to see what it’s like to write on Tumblr. Please support me! :"((

Nobody is coming to save you

Get up.

Your mother was not a good woman, and that was an undeniable fact, heavy as the shadow that covers Gotham City at nightfall. She was a creature of the underworld, one among the specters that wandered under the yoke of crime, walking among dangerous names like Selina Kyle or Harleen Quinzel, yet always remaining in the background, never reaching their fame or infamy.

She was nothing more than a kleptomaniac and a mythomaniac, doomed to live by cunning and deceit. She took advantage of the men who crossed her path, from the lowest criminals, like The Penguin, to the most powerful man in the city: Bruce Wayne.

You never called him Dad. To you, he was always Bruce, and on the rare occasions you addressed him, you did so with distant formality, "Mr. Wayne." Richard, your adoptive brother, found in him a father figure, while to you, he was just another shadow in the mansion, that huge, cold house you arrived at after your mother’s death.

You remember how, time and again, you tried to warn your mother to stop stealing, to stop lying, that those dark paths would inevitably lead her to Arkham Asylum, surrounded by all the lunatics you feared so much, or even worse: to death. But she always responded with a playful smile, stroking your head with her delicate hands, adorned with stolen jewelry and crude tattoos. "Those are just fantasies of an eight-year-old girl," she would say sweetly, while her ring-laden fingers assured you that you needn’t worry, "I will always come back for you," she promised, "because you are the only thing more valuable than any diamond I’ve ever held."

But the cruel truth was that was the last time you saw her. That night she left, and she never returned. It was then that the last vestiges of innocence faded with her absence. From that moment on, you ceased to be a child.

And that was one of the few things you understood with absolute clarity. There were no more empty promises, no more caresses tinged with lies. All that remained was the silence of a life fading away, like a stolen jewel that never returns to its rightful owner.

The only thing you knew after calling the police when your mother didn’t show up after two days was that they found her corpse in a back alley far from Gotham, showing signs of having been beaten and bruised by some underground gang.

Commissioner Gordon searched the entire house for illicit substances and signs of debts to mobsters, but he only ended up finding documents, stolen jewelry, and letters from your mother that were never sent, and most importantly, DNA evidence implicating that the city’s millionaire was your biological father.

From then on, your life was stained with eternal gray, that muted shade that erased all traces of light or shadow. There was no more white or black, only a silent fog that, day by day, enveloped you and dragged you into a madness that seemed inevitable. Gotham itself seemed more alive than the place you called home, although "home" was never the right word.

You didn’t love any of the Wayne family members. Bruce, your biological father, never listened to you. To him, you were always just another shadow, a ghost in the vast mansion that he prioritized over his other children, his "true" heirs. There was always something more important, something more urgent, and your presence faded among the cold walls and the echo of his hurried footsteps. With each passing day, you became more invisible to him, as if your very existence were a mistake he preferred to ignore.

Richard, the perfect brother, was kind on some occasions. He spoke to you courteously, but when you needed him, when you asked him to attend one of your performances, there was always an excuse, something that kept him away, as if your passion and accomplishments were insignificant details in his heroic life.

Jason, on the other hand, despised you from the start. He saw you as an intruder, a child of gold—but not of that pure and valuable gold, but of a dirty and false one, which he always mocked with disdain. And although you never cared for him, when he died, silent tears rolled down your face. It wasn’t out of love, but out of respect for what he represented, for the brutal reality of his fall.

Tim, in contrast, was the most indifferent. To him, you were a nobody, so irrelevant that you weren’t even worth a glance. Spending time with his friends or being the Robin of the moment mattered more than you did. You lived on his periphery, in a limbo where neither your name nor your face seemed to exist.

Cassandra, Stephanie, Barbara… at least they treated you with politeness, but you knew they didn’t really remember who you were. They saw you, smiled at you out of obligation, but deep down you knew they had no idea of your name, your story, your struggle to be more than a shadow in that world.

The worst of all was Damian, your younger half-brother. When he arrived at the mansion, Alfred introduced him to you with that serene formality he always had, and you, driven by an almost desperate impulse, tried to reach out to him. You wanted to offer him the support and affection of an older sister, that warmth you would have longed for in his situation. But all you received in return was a cold response: a katana piercing your abdomen. I wish I could say it was just a metaphor, but no, that wound was as real as the blade that cut your skin.

You would have liked to think that the pain was symbolic, that Damian had only rejected your affection with harsh words or his usual arrogance. But no, it was much more than that. The only thing you received in exchange for your attempt at fraternal love was a stab, a scar you still carry not only on your body but also in your soul. Because in that brutal gesture, you understood that the blood that united you also separated you, sharper than any weapon. And that was how you tried to connect.

You strived to stand out, to learn, to shine in your own ambitions, wishing that your success would be enough to earn you a place, a bit of affection. But no matter how hard you tried, it was never enough. Your talent crashed against indifference, your achievements faded into the air, as if they had no weight in the lives of others.

The only light, the only beacon in that storm of gray, was Alfred. The only one who smiled at you with genuine tenderness, the only one you truly loved. To you, he was the real father, the one who was always there, expecting nothing in return, offering you a silent but firm love. You did call him father, and his presence was the only thing that kept your sanity, the only thing preventing the gray from consuming you completely.

But even that love, so genuine and deep, was not enough to fill the void that your own family left you. And in that void, you continue to float, trapped between the girl you were and the woman you are trying to be, searching for a place you can truly call home.

Y/n's small room, though modest, had always been her refuge. The walls were adorned with unfinished sketches, trophies from various activities, and some paintings she had completed with dedication, showcasing her passion for both manual and performing arts.

The dawn light filtered softly through the curtains, bathing the space in golden tones, giving it a warmth that contrasted with the coldness of the rest of Wayne Manor.

On the desk, a small cake rested on a plate, simple yet made with love. Beside it, Alfred, with his usual understated elegance, watched Y/n with a mixture of nostalgia and concern. He, the only one who seemed to remember her birthday, offered her a delicate professional drawing set, wrapped in smooth, elegant paper.

"Happy birthday, Miss," Alfred said with a gentle smile, although his eyes reflected a sadness that was hard to conceal. "I know how much you love art, so I thought this would be helpful for your new projects."

Y/n took the gift in her hands with a genuine smile. It had been so hard for her to find moments of joy lately, but Alfred's gesture filled her with a warmth in her chest that she hadn't experienced in a long time. She placed the gift into one of the many brown boxes she had prepared for her upcoming move.

"Thank you, Alfred. It's perfect," she said, examining the set carefully, as if each detail were a reminder of the affection he held for her. "It will help me a lot... although, well," she sighed, as if searching for the right words. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that." Alfred raised an eyebrow, attentive, as she continued, glancing at the small space that had been her home within the vast mansion.

"Today... today is not just my birthday. It's the day I leave here." Her voice was firm, yet there was a sense of liberation in it, as if this were a long-awaited step. "I am finally no longer a Wayne. I go back to being a L/n."

Silence filled the room for a moment, heavy and dense. Alfred clasped his hands, striving to maintain his composure.

"Miss, I can't help but feel a certain unease hearing this. Are you sure this is what you want? This house, though empty in many ways, has always been your home..."

"Home?" Y/n looked at him with a mix of sadness and determination. "This house has never been my home, Alfred. Not like it was for Dick, nor even for Bruce. I have always been a stranger here, the daughter of a woman who never fit into this world, the bastard child. My mother taught me to find my own path, to not cling to what doesn’t belong to me... and being here, being called Wayne, has never belonged to me." Alfred sighed softly, turning his gaze toward the window. He knew there was truth in her words, but that didn’t lessen the pain of her leaving. "I know it’s hard to understand," Y/n continued, "but for the first time in a long time, I feel happy, Alfred. I’ve graduated, college is just around the corner, and I want to start anew. I want to find what truly makes me, me... not what others expect of me."

The old butler remained silent for a few moments, nodding slowly. He knew he couldn't retain her, that it was not his place to interfere in the young woman's dreams. But still, he couldn’t help but feel a pang in his heart at the thought of the house being even emptier without her. "I just wish you find what you’re looking for, Miss. And if you ever need a place to return to... this door will always be open for you."

Y/n stepped closer to him, gently hugging him, something she had rarely done. "Thank you, Alfred," she whispered against his shoulder. "You will always be my family, but I need this. I need to discover who I am outside of this last name."

The old butler felt the lump in his throat as he tightened the embrace a little longer before letting her go. He knew that deep down, she was doing the right thing. But that didn’t make it hurt any less to see her leave.

"Alfred, can you call the movers? I’ll be leaving tonight," Y/n said as she closed the last box with trembling hands, her gaze lost in the empty corners of the room she once considered her refuge. The butler, ever serene, nodded with his unwavering calmness.

"Don't worry, Miss, I assure you they will be here on time." His voice was soft, almost an echo of the ancient walls of the mansion, as if he himself were part of that structure that had seen so many comings and goings, so many lives broken and healed in silence.

Alfred turned halfway to leave, but Y/n's voice stopped him, broken yet sweet, like a melody at sunset. "Alfred..."

The man turned slowly, his eyes filled with paternal warmth, though always contained behind a formal gesture. "Yes, Miss?" he replied, with that tranquility that had always brought Y/n peace in her worst moments.

She took a breath, feeling how the words she had kept for so long fought to come out, to break the shell she had built since childhood. "I’ve never told you, but... thank you. Thank you for being the father I never had, for being there when no one else was."

For a moment, the silence in the room was heavier than all the accumulated boxes, deeper than any word. Alfred, who had been a witness to so many confessions and secrets in that house, stood still, his eyes shining with an emotion he rarely showed. "Miss," he murmured, his voice slightly choked, "it was an honor and a privilege to take care of you. If I ever gave you anything close to what you deserved, then my life has had true purpose."

Y/n smiled sadly, nodding slowly. "You did, Alfred. You did. And for that, I will always carry you with me, even if I leave here."

The butler slightly bowed his head in respect, swallowing any emotion that might betray his composure. "Wherever you go, you will always have a home here, Miss."

"I know," she said, though in her heart, she knew she wouldn’t return.

And as Alfred left the room to make the call, Y/n let out a long sigh, as if with it, she were leaving behind a part of herself, a part she could no longer carry with her.

Life in Gotham is like constantly walking on the edge of a razor blade. The city never sleeps, always alert, always dangerous, and for someone with the Wayne surname, the risks multiply. It has been a year since you left the mansion, trying to erase any ties that bound you to that life, desperately wishing the name would fade into the echo of the dirty streets and crumbling buildings. But it's not that easy. The name Wayne remains an indelible mark that the media and the people of Gotham refuse to let fade. The forgotten child, the silent accident of billionaire Bruce Wayne. And although you try to live as if you don’t exist under that shadow, the weight of the legacy haunts you.

You left with little, barely enough money to rent a small apartment in one of the worst corners of the city. You share the space with a friend, a plant-loving girl who has filled every nook of the place with leaves and pots, as if trying to make green defy the constant darkness of Gotham. You get along well with her; her love for nature is almost an antithesis to the chaos of the city, and she has taught you that even in the hardest concrete, something can bloom. She always accompanied you on the coldest, loneliest nights, giving you a warmth that, although ethereal, was very welcome. But still, life is not easy. You barely survive, spending the little you have on cheap food and paying the rent. There are days when the cold seeps through the poorly sealed windows, and you wonder if it was really better to be in the mansion instead of this little trench. However, you prefer this rough freedom to the soulless luxury of Wayne Manor.

Freedom, however, comes at a price. It wasn't enough to distance yourself, to change your life, or even to always carry a knife for defense. Gotham does not forget. People recognize you in the shadows, whisper your name, and approach you, sometimes with curiosity and other times with disdain. You have been beaten more than once. Some just for being a Wayne, others because they think they can extort you, even though they have no idea you can barely get by. The scars on your body bear witness to those beatings, but you refuse to give up. You get up every morning, despite the pain, and continue on your way. You don’t need Batman. You don’t need Bruce. You learned long ago that he wouldn't come to save you.

That night, like so many others, you were heading to the subway for your night shift, with the hood of your coat covering your face, trying to go unnoticed. The sound of the tracks echoed in your ears, a constant reminder of the city's hustle. You had gotten used to walking fast, avoiding eye contact, as if each step was a small battle won against the city. But this time, something was different.

"So it was true, the little Wayne girl is roaming the city... how lovely." The raspy, mocking voice rang out beside you, cutting through the heavy air of the train station. The man speaking wore a suit that, at first glance, seemed elegant, but there was something about his extreme thinness, his skin clinging to his bones and his disheveled hair, that made him look more like a specter of Gotham than a distinguished figure. A ghost from the shadows that had stalked you since you set foot on the streets.

If it weren't for his gaunt appearance and unsettling aura, you might have mistaken him for one of your father's employees. "I'm not a Wayne anymore," you said disdainfully, your voice sharp like the edge of a dagger refusing to be touched. "If you want money, I don’t have any. And Mr. Wayne wouldn’t give a cent for me either."

Your gaze drifted to the station clock. 8 minutes until the train that would take you away from this corner of Gotham, far from the shadows and faces that always seemed to recognize you.

The man let out a dry, raspy laugh that sent chills down your spine. "I don’t want your money, pretty girl," he replied, moving closer, invading your space with the same familiarity that Gotham’s filth slipped into every corner. "You’re worth more than that." You felt his calloused, scarred hand rest on your hip, with a pressure that was neither violent nor friendly. The contact filled you with disgust.

7 minutes.

You clenched your fist, your jaw tight as you struggled to maintain your composure. "I don’t want sex either, idiot," you spat, your words loaded with contained fury. Your hand subtly slid toward your bag, where your knife lay, waiting to be used.

6 minutes.

The man didn’t flinch. In fact, he let out a low, mocking laugh. "And I don’t want that either, little girl," he murmured, his cold, deep blue eyes scrutinizing you as if they could read every dark corner of your soul. "I want something more from you."

5 minutes.

"What do you want then?" you asked, forcing yourself to keep your voice steady, even as the ice of fear began to creep down your spine. Your eyes scrutinized him, searching his gaze for any hint of his true intentions, but all you saw was darkness.

4 minutes.

He let out a long, chilling laugh, tightening his grip on your hip. "Do you know what I want, Y/n?"

3 minutes.

His voice dropped, as if his words were a cursed secret the wind refused to carry away. "I want you."

2 minutes.

The world seemed to stop. You knew there was no time to run. There was no time to pull out the knife or to scream. It was as if the clock itself had conspired against you, reducing those last minutes to mere seconds.

1 minute.

The blow was sharp, a flash of excruciating pain at the back of your head. The cold metal of the station, the hum of the city, everything faded abruptly. The last thought that crossed your mind, before the world vanished into darkness, was that this time, you didn’t expect Batman to save you. It wasn’t a mere thief or a street threat that was taking you.

Gotham, with all its cruelty, always had new ways to remind you that there is no escape.

That night, when the Gotham subway stopped at the station, there was no one to pick up.

The mansion felt emptier than ever, like a deserted and cold labyrinth, where each hallway seemed to stretch into an infinite tunnel, devouring the light.

The silence was overwhelming, an oppression that enveloped every corner, as if even the ancient walls had run out of words. It was so heavy that the few who remained in the mansion couldn’t help but move uncomfortably, trying to fill that void with something, anything.

Bruce Wayne walked through those same hallways with a strange feeling, as if something was missing, though he didn’t know what. An unease, a persistent discomfort that he couldn’t shake off.

He had been like this for months, with that absence haunting his mind, a gap he couldn't identify. And then, suddenly, like a gust of icy wind, the truth struck him.

You.

His daughter.

His little daughter.

How long had it been since he last saw you? When was the last time he heard your laughter, the one that always seemed too sarcastic, too filled with resentment? He stopped abruptly, frowning. Why couldn’t he remember you? He couldn’t bring to mind a clear image of your face, not even how you used to look at him... why? How could he have forgotten you like that?

Damn.

It was as if time had stopped. It had been a year, maybe more, since he had really thought about you. He felt a pang of guilt pierce his chest, a heavy, silent guilt that dragged him into the abyss of his own negligence. Not knowing what else to do, he began to check the rooms, one after another.

Each door he opened was another blow to his conscience. Where was your room? The more he searched, the more confused he felt. The mansion was enormous, but how could he have forgotten where you slept? How was it possible that he didn’t know where you lived in the house where both of you grew up? Had you been here all this time?

Each door he opened was identical to the last, as if all the rooms had fused into one.

None showed a trace of you.

None seemed to have a hint of your presence. Didn’t you decorate your room? He thought frantically, didn’t you even mark it as yours? Panic began to take hold of him. Anxiety wrapped around him like a fist tightening on his chest. Were you still living in the mansion? Or had you left without saying a word, like a shadow fading at dawn? But... no, you hadn’t mentioned anything. You hadn’t said you were leaving. Or had you? And if you had, why didn’t he remember? How could he have ignored you for so long that now he didn’t even know if you were still under the same roof?

“Ah!” he exclaimed in a whisper, unable to contain the dread he felt.

Frustration consumed him from within. He stopped in the middle of the hallway, breathing heavily, and the echo of his voice faded into the empty walls. He tried to remember something, anything about you, about the last time they spoke, about how you were... but everything was blurry, as if his mind was betraying him, hiding you behind an impenetrable fog.

How could he have forgotten so much?

He brought his hands to his head, trying to calm himself, but only felt more confusion, more desperation. The mansion, which had once been his home, now felt like a strange and foreign place.

Had you been the one who made it feel like home? The question echoed in his mind, but he had no answer. Just more questions. More uncertainties. Finally, he let his arms fall, exhausted. He had checked almost all the rooms and had found not a trace of you. Not a clue. Not a sign that you had been there. And at that moment, something dark and painful began to settle in his heart.

Had you ever really been there?

Then something caught his attention as he passed by the cleaning room. In a dusty corner, next to a forgotten bag, something was protruding. Something small, old, and faded. He bent down and pulled it from the dirty clothes. It was a stuffed animal, or what was left of one. The faded black of its suit left no doubt. It was a figure of Batman, but worn down by time, battered to the point of looking forgotten.

Bruce's eyes were fixed on the small piece of fabric hanging from the doll's neck. A tag.

Your name.

Your name, handwritten, in ink that was already fading.

Bruce felt a lump in his throat, a mix of guilt and rage. How could he have forgotten something so important?

He clutched the doll tightly, as if doing so would return a piece of you to him, but instead of comfort, he only felt more emptiness. Where were you? He ran to Alfred, who looked at him with a mix of concern and pity.

"Alfred..." Bruce said, his voice breaking. "Where is she? Where is my daughter?"

The butler, with his always serene face, seemed to age suddenly. A long silence settled between them, as if time was fading away. "Mr. Bruce, I didn’t mean to..." Alfred lowered his gaze. "I didn’t want to burden you with that truth, but... it’s time you know."

Bruce felt a chill run down his spine. Truth? What truth?

"She left almost a year ago. She didn’t say where. She just... she took all her belongings, though they weren’t many, and left. She said she didn’t want to be a burden. That you and the other family members had too many things to worry about."

Bruce took a step back, as if the words had physically struck him. Did she have enough age to leave? A burden? Never, not for a second, did he think that of you, of his little daughter who, even though she wasn’t wanted, he embraced under his wing just like Damian.

You were never a burden.

...or were you?

No, he refused to acknowledge it; he just... he hadn’t spent time with you because Gotham needed him!

But when you needed him, where was Batman?

Where was Bruce Wayne when his only biological daughter needed him?

"Alfred, do you know anything about Y/n?" the hero asked, worry clear on his face.

Alfred didn’t look at him; he only stared into nothingness. "...I haven’t heard anything about her for two months...

And honestly... I'm starting to think...

that she might be lost to us forever..."

A/N — This is definitely apart from being my first official Tumblr post, it is also my first DC post and especially the first from the Lord of the Night xD

Don't hesitate to ask me anything if you want.

Isabel, I dedicate this to you, my love. Eat more to be well, you fucking anorexic, don't suck.

take a bath!

inspiration: @acid-ixx with his Again & Again series, @gotham-daydreams' work, @i-cant-sing's work and @klemen-tine's work, be sure to check them out!

3K notes · View notes

luv-lock · 29 days ago

Text

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤATTENTION BABYㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Batboys x Fem Reader

☆⁠ SYNOPSIS : When You're Too Busy For Them.

☆⁠ CHARACTERS : Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne.

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

— BRUCE WAYNE ⋆

Bruce was a busy man. A billionaire CEO, Gotham’s protector, and a single father to a hoard of emotionally volatile vigilantes. He understood the concept of being busy better than anyone.

That didn’t mean he liked it when it applied to you.

It had started simple. You’d been swamped with work, deadlines looming over you like a guillotine, and Bruce had been hovering. At first, it was subtle. A lingering gaze as you typed. The occasional brush of fingers when he brought you coffee. A deep, expectant silence as he stood behind you, arms crossed, waiting.

But then—then—it became insufferable.

"I'm working, Bruce," you mumbled, not even looking up from your laptop.

"You need to rest." His voice was that signature Batman growl, but you waved him off.

"I will. After this."

Wrong answer.

Bruce closed your laptop with a single, slow motion. The weight of his gaze was almost suffocating.

"Hey!" You tried to reopen it, but he placed a large, firm hand over the top.

"You’re done for the night."

"No, I'm not—"

"Yes. You are."

You glared at him. He stared back, completely unaffected. It was a battle of wills.

But then—because he’s a manipulative bastard—his hands slid to your shoulders, massaging the tension away with frustrating expertise. You let out an involuntary sigh. Damn him.

Before you could protest, he leaned down and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to the top of your head.

"Take a break sweetheart."

"But—"

"I’ll make you a deal," he murmured, leaning down, lips brushing against your ear. "You take a break, come upstairs with me, and I won’t disable the WiFi for the rest of the night."

Your head snapped toward him. "You wouldn’t dare."

Bruce just raised a brow.

He absolutely would.

In the end, you found yourself naked in his arms on the bed, completely trapped as he murmured sweet nothing in your ear.

— DICK GRAYSON ⋆

Dick is like a giant, overly muscular golden retriever with abandonment issues.

Which meant the moment you got busy and stopped giving him the attention he craved, he went through the five stages of grief.

Denial — "She’s just busy. It’s fine. I’m fine. We’re fine." (Narrator: He was not fine.)

Anger — "Okay, but I’m literally her boyfriend??? Hello??? Where is my affection???"

Bargaining — "If you look at me for five seconds, I’ll do that thing you like—"

Depression — soft sighing noises in the background

Acceptance (fake) — "It’s okay. I didn’t need love anyway. I’ll just wither away like a Victorian child—"

At first, he tried the cute approach. He flopped dramatically onto the couch beside you, big blue eyes blinking up at you as he scooted closer.

"Hey."

"Hi," you muttered, not looking up from your paperwork.

"You’re working hard," he said, smiling.

"Yep."

"So hard."

"Mhm."

"...you wanna take a break?" He grinned, nudging you. "Maybe cuddle? Or make out? Or stare into each other's eyes for an unhealthy amount of time?"

You patted his cheek absentmindedly. "Not now, babe."

He rested his chin on your shoulder, warm breath tickling your neck. "I miss you."

You huffed a laugh. "Dick, I’m right here."

"Are you, though?" He suddenly was Infront of you, forcing you to face him. His arms came around you, caging you in as he pouted. "This is how close we should be."

You rolled your eyes. "Dick, I need to finish this."

"Finish me first," he said with a wiggle of his brows.

"Get out."

And that was when Dick entered his menace era.

Suddenly, your papers were gone.

Like, vanished.

"Richard," you said slowly, "where are my papers?"

"Who’s Richard?" he said, all faux innocence as he stretched his long arms behind his head.

You narrowed your eyes. "Pretty boy."

"Yes, angel?"

"My papers."

"Ohhh. Those." He grinned. "Guess you'll have to catch me if you want them back."

And just like that, he bolted.

You didn’t even chase him. You just texted Alfred. Five minutes later, he walked back in, grumbling, and handed you your papers like a scolded child.

— JASON TODD ⋆

Jason liked to pretend he don't like your attention.

But the moment you started prioritizing anything else? He was intolerable.

At first, he played it cool. Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching you work. Casual. Aloof. The picture of patience.

But then—then—you didn’t look up. Didn’t even glance his way.

And suddenly, Jason Todd, Red Hood, walking crime deterrent, was pouting.

"Whatcha doin’?"

"Work."

"How long you gonna be doin’ that?"

"A while."

"...so you’re just gonna sit there? Ignore me?"

"Jay," you sighed, rubbing your temples. "I love you, but please."

"Oh, please?" His eyes gleamed mischievously. "Damn. Didn’t know I was just a piece of meat to you, doll."

You groaned. "Jason."

"Jason," he mocked, deepening his voice dramatically. "God. You don’t even see me anymore. I could drop dead and you wouldn’t notice."

Without another word you just go back to work.

Just. Like. That.

He just watched you. Then he sighed loudly.

Nothing.

He groaned dramatically.

Still nothing.

Jason’s eye twitched.

Then, without warning, he snatched your laptop and slammed it shut.

"WHAT THE FUCK!"

Jason’s arms came around your chair, trapping you in place as he leaned in close, emerald eyes narrowed. "You forgot about me."

You blinked. "Jason—"

"Forgot. About. Me." He spoke slowly, as if the words physically pained him.

You gaped. "I was working!"

"You weren’t paying attention to me," he corrected.

You sighed. "Jason, you’re being dramatic—"

"Dramatic?!" He gasped, clutching his chest like you’d stabbed him. "Doll, you wound me."

You shot him a glare. "Do you need something?"

"Yeah," he said, grinning. "My bitch."

And then this giant of a man literally collapsed onto you, throwing himself across your lap like a spoiled cat.

"Jay—you're heavy!"

"Guess you’ll just have to hold me, then."

— DAMIAN WAYNE ⋆

Damian doesn’t ask for attention.

He demands it.

So when you started ignoring him, he didn’t pout like Dick, or whine like Jason.

No.

Damian stared.

Silently.

Unblinkingly.

For hours.

You had been working on something—completely oblivious to his growing impatience—finally you sighed and stretched—only to nearly jump out of your chair when you saw Damian standing in the shadows like some lurking cryptid.

"Jesus, Damian! You scared me!"

He tilted his head slightly, green eyes dark and unreadable. "You didn’t notice me?"

"...No?" You frowned, feeling a shiver run down your spine at his intense stare.

Damian’s frown deepened. That was unacceptable. You always noticed him. He always knew when you were in a room, and he expected the same.

You turned back to your laptop, completely oblivious to the way Damian’s jaw tensed.

"Take a break."

"…Damian."

"You are neglecting me."

Your eye twitched. "Neglecting?"

"Tt. I have been here for three hours."

That made you pause. "...you've been standing there the entire time?"

He didn't answer. He just stared.

"Okay, that’s creepy."

"Hn." He walked over, standing directly beside you. "You will cease working now."

You let out an exasperated sigh. "Or what?"

Silence.

Then—your laptop was gone.

Like, just gone.

"Damian—!"

"You have no choice now," he said simply, kneeling before you with a pleased expression. "Now bless me with your lips beloved."

You later found your laptop in the bat cave. Behind five layers of security. It took you hours to get it back.

— MASTERLIST ☆

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thewitchblue · 1 month ago

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"Mooooooom!"

You heard across the house. Little Jason came running to you with an overbearing Dick trailing behind him, doing cartwheels.

"Mama, he won't leave me alone!"

Jason clutched onto a book he was trying to read and hid behind your legs. You wanted to laugh but managed to hold it back.

He peaked at Dick from his poor hiding spot. Now he was doing backflips. Dick wanted his attention, but he tried everything, and he couldn't find any other way to ask for his attention besides doing circus tricks. You asked,

"Dick, what do you want from Jason?"

Jason wrapped one of his arms around your leg. He only wanted to read in peace. He thought he finally found a corner in the library Dick hadn't found yet.

"I wanted to play a game with him, but he was busy reading, and I needed his attention to ask."

You kissed the top of Jason's head. Your sweet little boy, Jason, looked at Dick as if he were an alien. Surely, there are much easier ways to get his attention. He couldn't have been that engrossed, right? He looked at you with guilt-filled eyes.

"Ma? I didn't mean to ignore him, I promise."

You believe him. He would never intentionally ignore anybody, let alone his friendly big brother. Your heart melted at the teary look he gave you. He doesn't want to be thrown out back onto the streets. He knows you'd never do that, but it's an anxiety that won't go away.

"I believe you, sugar bear. You can listen to him now."

Jason bravely stepped out from his hiding place and walked towards Dick with a nervous smile. He still wanted to stay with you, but he listened to the game Dick proposed.

Your two boys ran off to cause their mischief after Dick explained the game he wanted to play. It was one of his favourite circus games that he knew Jason would love. He couldn't believe it took him months to remember the game.

You casually picked up the book that Jason accidentally dropped in his haste to play. Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief. You read the first page and smiled. He was halfway through the book already and likely has the whole series stacked in a pile in the library.

You decided to put the book on his nightstand in his room. His room was covered in books with an entire wall dedicated only to books, but what's one more?

You smiled fondly as you looked around. Little Jason was so passionate. When he loves something, it's part of his heart forever.

Dick's room is full of circus decorations, and you even made a net on the ceiling to catch him when he inevitably falls from the ceiling after a circus trick.

You smiled as the two ran past you, both giggling like they were having the time of their lives. Until Dick backflipped over the guard rail on the third floor. You screamed,

"RICHARD JOHN GRAYSON!"

You ran to the railing and watched Dick ride the chandelier for five seconds before landing onto the couch like he's done it millions of times.

Horrified, you ran down the staircase. You had to check him for injuries immediately while he laughed. Jason was also terrified.

Dick wasn't even bruised to your relief, but the anger came after the relief. You physically relaxed but still looked at him with anger.

"Little wing, never do that again."

You pulled him into a tight hug and kissed his forehead. You will have to tell Bruce and figure out some way to prevent this from happening again. Maybe put up a mesh wall to stop it.

"You can't take the circus out of the kid, mom."

He winked with a grin. You shook your head with a small smile. He's right, of course, and that's why you have to safeguard the entire manor.

"You are so lucky that chandelier didn't fall. It's the oldest in the house."

He didn't seem too bothered by the idea of falling from the ceiling. You suppose he lost his fear of heights a long time ago.

"I tried to stop him, ma!"

You heard from the staircase. Jason was peaking behind the corner. You chuckled.

"I know, sugar bear. You can't control other people."

Alfred, who had been watching this whole time, said in an exasperated tone,

"I'll put a net up tomorrow, Mrs. Wayne."

You smiled gratefully at the butler, but Dick complained that nets take the fun out of his tricks. You chose to ignore his desire to be without a net and instead turned to Alfred,

"Thank you, Alfred. Dick, I'm putting up nets regardless. You shouldn't be doing dangerous tricks. I'll get you a jungle gym and a trampoline room for your tricks, but please stop doing circus tricks off of railings."

Dick was excited about the compromise and ran off again. To do what? Nobody knows. Jason hugged you. He asked shyly,

"Ma? Where is my book?"

You kissed the top of his head before telling him,

"In your room, sugar bear."

Jason, too, ran off after being told where his book is, almost running into Bruce in the process. He mumbled a quick apology as he scampered away.

Bruce watched on with amusement. Jason was a joy to have as a kid. You kissed Bruce's cheek when he approached you.

"How are you, my queen?"

You laughed at the nickname. He's always coming up with a new nickname, but he's really been enjoying calling you his queen lately.

"I'm recovering from a heart attack. We need another net, my liege."

Bruce groaned. Dick found a new spot to jump off of? He thought he had found all the spots. You said worriedly,

"He's only getting more and more creative, Bruce. I promised to build him a jungle gym and a trampoline room to get him to stop. He rode the chandelier!"

Bruce sighed softly. He can make those changes in the rooms next to the game room. His voice rumbled as he said,

"I'll get it taken care of, my love."

Alfred chimed in with raised eyebrows,

"How many more nets would you like, master Bruce?"

Bruce seemed to do a mental count of all the rooms in the manor and the ones he's blocked off. You have blocked out a good amount of the rooms and railings, but he worries Dick will simply jump off the balconies at this rate.

"At least 10 more. Thank you, Alfred."

You mirrored Bruce's thank you with a grateful smile. Alfred bowed before walking off.

You gave Bruce another kiss as he tucked you into his side. Bruce murmurs to you,

"I went to the orphanage today."

Bruce's baby fever knows no end. You rolled your eyes and said with a laugh,

"Are you collecting children like Pokemon cards?

He promised he hadn't taken in any more this time. He said while wrapping an arm around you,

"Two is plenty."

Well, jokes on you both because you ended up with twelve children, and Bruce has yet to stop. Where did he find them all? You had asked jokingly. At this rate, you are going to have a full house. He didn't have a better answer than "I'm Batman."

#batfam x reader #batmom #bruce wayne x reader #fem reader

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nyra-42 · 10 months ago

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Just me . . . reopening tumblr for the third time in the last 30 minutes checking to see if anyone posted anything new since I checked 5 minutes ago.

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sangunary · 13 days ago

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YANDERE BATFAM × NEGLECTED READER!

- Hush now crybaby.

\\Part 1// \\ Part 2// \\ Part 3 //

SYPNOSIS: After your death nothing felt the same.

Warning: Gore, death, violence, blood.

Everything happened in a flash, you couldn't even remembered what had hit you so hard to make your entire body run this high on adrenaline. You could feel your every pulse and the pounding on your head makes it hard to think properly.

When the clouds in your head finally clears you finally opened your eye's and looked down at your feet, your lifeless body laying on the ground.

Blood was profusely seeping out from the bash you received after the impact of the car... The car had hit you so hard that you flew and unfortunately your head landed on a fire hydrant.

The impact was so powerful that it left an open wound on your head... Everybody stopped to tape the situation not a single soul decided to even checked if you were still breathing.

You watched as the ambulance took your cold body. You watched as the medical staff's tried their best to wake you up. You watched as your own blood father hang up the call from just hearing your name, not even inquiring them further- He acted like your name was some curse.

You sit there by your body side, holding your own hands. Taking the little nursery book by the side table you began to read, you felt a little comfort but you can't complaint even a little was better than nothing.

The heart monitor began to beep indicating that you were no longer breathing. Staffs runs in trying to bring back your heart beat yet nothing worked you died that day.

You died because none of your guardians wanted to be involved with you... The hospital needed them to agree to a surgery yet since nobody or even if they picked up they just hang up without listening further.

You stood outside the morgue waiting patiently for your family to retrieve your body. You've been standing there for hour's, for someone who doesn't have a heart anymore it ache alot.

When your family finally arrived they were shocked, Damian was abit caught off guard, Bruce with the same face just more disappointed, Dick in tears, Tim was too sleepy to even react much... Jason was not present.

Barbara and Stephanie were crying holding your tiny cold hand's in theirs apologising, Duke was distraught and Cass you could tell she was uncomfortable.

Even during your funeral you stood beside your physical body, stroking your cheek and wishing yourself well. The funeral was small just the batfamily, your body was buried near the manor with high security.

Even your own mother didn't attend your funeral which made you frown which wasn't even your intention, your intention was to cry but not a single drop of tears could even fall.

Fortunately your mother did came but weeks after your funeral burst inside the manor and attack yout father. She was a mess, her mascara was ruined from the tears that won't stop flowing, her hair was extremely mess which was new. Your mother was a fashionable woman and seeing her this wild made you sad.

"You Piece Of Shit! OUR daughter died! How could you not inform me my babygirl is dead! I wanted to see her- To say goodbye!" Your mother yelled as she slap Bruce across his face. Bruce stays silent enduring the pain she was conflicting upon him.

"I left her with you so she could have something! How could You! She was so happy to have a father yet you let her chase your love and affection?! Even if you couldn't see her as your daughter why not call me??! I would have taken her with me!"

"...She was my world Bruce! My daughter... My baby... Now I can't even say goodbye. Im terrible, I should have been there..."

Your mother's grip on Bruce loosen as she fell onto the floor, sobbing into her hand's.

You slowly walk towards your mother, you wished you could have hug her in that moment for her to feel the warmth but you were cold.. Freezing, you don't think she would be comfortable.

Instead of hugging her you sit beside her holding her right hand, as you lean onto her...

"Im sorry mom, forgive me it's not father's fault... I was being emotional and being emotional makes me stupid...Maybe this is why nobody love's me"

Ever since that day Bruce became worst. You were haunting the manor watching as everybody tried to cope with your death.

You felt abit happy to be death, afterall you felt as your family finally noticed you. And all it took for them to love you was for you to die!

But it was tragic to watch your allready insane family become... This.

Dick was now sleeping on your bed every night, even when others tried to interfere he didn't budge. Holding onto the dress you wore that day and mumbling on and on about how he would take you to the park if you just come back.

Jason was also affected as much as it shocked, he was smoking more and barely even coming to the manor inorder to avoid anything that reminded of you.

Tim health was getting worst, he didn't even have the heart to look into any case at times and would just stare at blankly talking to himself and imagining that you were there.

Damian didn't show any weakness to anyone else he didn't show that he was greatly grieving. Nobody had a clue that he was trying to bring your soul inside your favourite doll. He would talk to himself which was alot tame than Tim but he was indeed speaking about how he will force your soul inside the doll just so everything could went back to normal.

Barbara was neglecting her job as Oracle. She doesn't have the energy to do anything, without your presence everything felt dead to her and if everything is dead what's the point of trying to salvage it.

Duke was taking it very well, talking about his feelings and making sure to clean your grave everyone Saturday, replacing the flower as much as he could... He was obsessed with your grave. At times he would sit there for hours just staring at it...

Stephanie wasn't as cheery as she was and even when she genuinely smiled it faid quickly... She kept getting nightmares of your body inside that morgue as a result she can't deal with crime including death in it. She gets reminded of you and when that happened she went into panick mode.

Cass on the other hand tried her best to move on unlike the others. But sometimes you would watch her as she entered your room and leaving quickly, it was as if she was trying to imagine you inside your room solely.

Bruce took it the worst, he would take his pent up guilt and anger out on any criminal, he even broke a couple bone of a guy who just rob a store with a knife. It was as if he was ignoring his own and the most important rule.

Silently blaming himself. He thought that Jason death would be the end of death in the family but that wasn't the case.

Alfred was heavily affected as well. He knew he was also in the wrong for favouring your other siblings while trying his best to avoid you during your time on Earth as a human. He would bake your favourite food and left it at your grave.

Alfred also had to stop the family from bringing your rotting corpse and dipping it into thr Lazarus pit. He knew you wouldn't like the idea of being brought back plus your body was too old to be able to be put together again.

Crime rate was raising because none of the family members were willing to talk about your death and keeping to themselves only. You could only watch as sigh as they tried to bring you back to life over and over.

The body inside the casket which was buried sixth feet underground was a simple decoy.

Your corpse have been rotting slowly inside a special room, where Bruce tried to bring you back somehow. You couldn't help but get teary just by looking at your corpse.

It was skinny and extremely pale... The stretch was horrible... Your body was clearly rotting away. It was not fun witnessing your organ being taken from your body just so your suddenly crazy/obessed father could bring you back.

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