#batfamily x sibling reader

[nosyrobin]

IMAGINE‼️

Baby!damian crying, literally sitting up in his crib and is shaking it with all his might as his twin. Twin!reader sleeps peacefully, Bruce who is tired walks in. Picking up a red faced Damian as Damian screamed and cried. Soon waking up twin!reader who cries. Bruce groans in tiredness meanwhile Damian stops crying and tries to reach the now crying baby. Bruce raises a brow and put his two boys together. Damian crawls over to reader, silently staring at reader before lying down by him. Reader slowly starts to stop crying as Damian pats his chubby little hand on reader’s chest to “sooth” him. Soon the two twins pass out as Bruce just smile and goes back to bed.

[shortnsweetsposts]

Bat!reader: HOW TF DO YOU MAKE MICROWAVE POPCORN WITHOUT IT GETTING EVERYWHERE.

Damian: you're supposed to keep it in the bag

Bat!reader: Hell no. I ain't putting a PAPER bag in the microwave. I don't want it to catch on fire

Damian: you are dumb.

[jasmines-library]

Hey, I love your Batfam work! Is there any chance you could do a whump/angst one of batsis being kidnapped by a villian(you can choose whoever you want) and she’s tortured for days with it being broadcasted to the Batfam while they try to track the footage. I feel kinda bad but can you do maybe some head trauma md severe burns? Maybe she has to be put in a medically included coma or smth because of the damage? Also is there any way you could include Barb and Duke along w/ the four robins? If not that’s totally cool! Sorry for the long request but I hope you have a great day!!

Anonymous Requested: batfam x batsib reader whos the youngest and newest robin and is just really goofy and doesn’t take anything seriously (ex: them blaring “who’s the (bat)man” on the comms during patrol [that songs stuck in my head i had to mention it]) and something happens, maybe their first close encounter to death or a run in with the joker and they just become a shell of who they were and stuff

Jokes On Me

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Note: My god im so sorry this literally took me forever to write, thank you so much for being patient. I've been trying to write this all week but just couldn't sit down for long enough to finish it.

Warnings: Torture, blood, burns.

Word Count: 2.5k

⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

“Y/N, turn that shit off.”

Jason grumbled at you over the coms. You had been blasting some wretched song that you’d found on the internet over and over again and it was beginning to drive him mad. 

“Nope.” You said, popping the ‘p’ loudly. 

“Seriously.” Dick deadpanned. He had found it amusing at first, but it was now beginning to test his patience. 

Agitated, you sighed and turned off the music. “Fine.”

“Thank you.” Jason expressed gratefully, turning his eyes back to the road he was patrolling. The night was cool and quiet besides the odd dog walker or couple returning from an evening out. It was one of those nights where patrol would end early and he could return home to take a warm bath and read a book before turning in for the night. Or so he thought. 

You were rounding the corner, humming that tune that was still stuck in your head when his laughter ricocheted across the walls. You stiffened, eyes widening and hands fumbling for your weapon as your breath hitched. No amount of turning and craning your head allowed you to catch a glimpse of the dreaded figure, and you thought for a moment that perhaps it had just been a trick of your mind, or one of your brothers playing a cruel joke on you as payback for winding them up earlier. But then you heard it again, only this time to your left. You clutched your weapon tighter, eyes scanning the area with a new found sense of urgency. 

“Wing…” You whispered into the coms so quietly that you were surprised he heard it.

“What now?” He somewhat snapped. 

“We have a problem.”

Dick’s heart sank through the floor, his ears pricking up and his demeanour changing completely. “Where are you? What’s the matter? He was trying to let his panic show, but you hadn’t been patrolling as a vigilante for very long, and while you were well trained, you lacked the experience to deal with something big on your own. And from your tone of voice, he could tell that you were in some deep shit. 

Jason worked his legs harder to push himself to reach the direction he had seen you head off in. Albeit it seemed even his hardest wasn’t enough.

When he stepped out of the darkness, the first thing you noticed were his eyes. Wide and bright, easily mistakable for a cat’s as they flashed in the darkness; wild. Rabid. As he emerged fully with that infamous twisted grin splayed out on his face, you felt like a cornered animal; a deer in headlights. You froze, unable to move despite how your heart screamed at you to run as it pounded, trying to break free from your ribcage. 

“He’s here…” A mere whisper sliding over your tongue, so fragile that you weren’t even sure if you had actually said it aloud. Jason had heard it. 

“Who?” 

The Joker was circling you now, dragging out his strides in lazy circles. You should have fought but in that moment all of your training had drained out of you, along with the colour in your face. He smirked, leering down upon you as you tried to keep your trembling hand still. He pouted in mockery and at your silence, Jason repeated his question to you, but you never got the chance to respond. 

“Oh…Just an old friend, Jay-bird.”

“Joker.” Urging his body to move faster, Jason grit his teeth. 

Dick paled. “You leave them alone.” Dick spat. It tried to be a command, but the effect was lost somewhere in transmission.

The joker pursed his lips, tilting his head as he analysed. One of his hands had found his way to your jawline and he trailed it with a cold, gloved hand. You wanted to lean away, to run and find your brother but you knew that now he had you in his grasp there was no point in even trying. “And why would I do that? They’re right in front of me. I could just…snatch them up.”

“Don’t you dare!” Dick was frightened now. “Y/N, you stay there as long as you can, okay? You fight. We’re coming, you hear?”

The Joker frowned at you. “D’you hear that? Big brother birdy coming to the rescue. How sweet.”

His grip on you tightened. “Too bad you’ll be long gone by the time they get here.”

With one swift motion, he had thrown you harshly to the side, your head colliding with the wall with a sickening crack. 

The two boys skidded to a halt just a second too late. You were already gone. 

~

Your head hurt when you woke up. Your eyes squinted against the sterile light. They did no favours to your pounding headache. With a groan, you tried to twist, to roll over and soothe the crook in your neck but instead all that happened was the jinging of a metal chain. You craned your head and spotted the thick chain that had been wrapped around your wrist, confining you to the chair. Struggling, you tugged on them, trying to free yourself only for them to rattle and scrape against your skin. 

“Yeah, that’s not going anywhere, birdy.” The joker chided.

You glared at him through narrowed eyes, trying to mask the thumping of your heart. The joker grinned wildly at your frightened complexion. 

“It was such a shame that Grayson and Todd didn’t get to you in time, but it was far too easy to catch you, little bird: you completely froze.” He snapped his fingers to emphasise his point. “Didn’t batsy teach you better?”

“Don’t talk about them.” You snapped. 

The joker raised his hands, palms facing toward you in surrender: taunting you as if you were the one with the power in the situation. “Touchy subject I see. Too bad.” 

He gestured above you to an incessantly blinking light. “Smile for the camera, you’re live.”

~

Babs had been monitoring the street cameras when the computer beside her flickered to life. She had been searching for any sign of you ever since Dick and Jason came flying through the grandfather clock. Everyone was on edge. 

The moment the screen flashed on, her eyes perked up to watch it, alarmed. She hadn’t turned it on. And there were very few people who could bypass the caves system. So when she saw a small frame curled up in a chair she knew immediately what was up. 

“Duke…” she called to the dark haired boy who was trying to help decipher your whereabouts. “Go and get B.” 

It did not take long at all for everyone to gather around in the cave. Duke was fast, and everyone dropped what they were doing to race down: even Alfred had taken his leave from his duties to see. 

It was almost like some sick irony because as soon as they were all there, you began to scream. A guttering, perfect scream that cut that through them like a knife: unclean and pinging into them messily again and again. 

The joker had taken a knife to your left thigh, his smile dripping with malice as he watched the camera, somehow knowing that at least one of them would be watching. 

Your face was contorted in pain, twisting in agony as tears rolled flatly down your cheeks from fearful eyes. Damian felt sick, his stomach churning. Jason wanted to leave. But all of them were stuck watching. Barbra was tapping away, trying to locate the signal from the video to no avail. 

“I hope you’re watching this Batsy…” He moved round to trail your face with the edge of the knife. You whimpered. “I’ve got your little bird here and I must say, you need to work on their training. They were far too easy to catch.”

Bruce felt his jaw tightening and Tim had to place a hand on his arm to remind him of his place. 

“Anyway I thought we would play a little game… how long can little y/n survive for. I wonder if it’ll be any longer than our very own Jason Todd.”

Jason twitched. 

“I’m testing you here, Bat. Tick Tock.”

The transmission cut to black. 

~

It seemed hopeless. Even though they had been searching for days, they were no closer to finding you. And to make matters worse, they could see you. Not long after the first transition ended did it start up again. It had been lifestreaming since then, and although they had tried to block it from their minds, it was hard to ignore. Especially when your agonised screams ricocheted throughout the halls. 

You looked like hell. Dark bags occluded under your eyes and there wasn’t an inch of your skin that wasn’t marred or stained with drying blood. The burns were worse. Damian could still hear the scream you let out when the joker first brought the hot poker to your skin. It had bubbled and blistered as the skin peeled away; you had thrashed against your restraints violently. Tim was certain that they were going to get infected if they didn’t reach you soon. 

It felt as if they had searched everywhere. Dick and Jason had even asked around to see if anyone had heard anything, going as far to talk to the Jokers closest associates in Arkham, but even if they did know, nobody said anything. Duke had even gone as far to go back to the area to use his powers to see if he could trace anything, but nothing seemed out of place; they had hit a brick wall. That was…until a small light appeared on the monitor. Babs had managed to trace the signal to a small building on the outskirts of the city. 

They were suited up in minutes, making a beeline for the building. They stormed it, recklessly taking down the Joker's goons before Batman chased wildly after the Joker, his face stony and his fists burning with anger. The other four boys chased down the winding corridors, flinging open the doors until they found one that was locked. Tim wasted no time, picking the lock with ease he peeled it open. His breath hitched when he saw you. 

Your face was gaunt, hanging low by your chest. Your suit was torn and there was less of it on your body than there was ripped away. You looked so fragile as your chest heaved sporadically. 

Jason nearly had to take a step back. This place reminded himself too much of his own encounter with the Joker not too long ago. But he pressed forward, fighting his instincts. He had to be strong. Instead of turning back, he kneeled in front of you, whispering your name. His hand came up to cup your face. You flinched away. 

“It’s okay kid. It’s us.” He tried to reassure you, but you shrank back into yourself. 

“We’re so, so sorry kiddo.” Dick tried placing a gentle hand on your arm before moving to work on the cuffs around your wrists. “We’re going to get you out.”

You said nothing, just continued to stare at the black space before you, and Dami wasn’t sure if you even knew they were in front of you. But when Jason moved away from you to help remove your restraints, your fingers latched onto him and you squeaked in protest. 

He sighed shakily. “Don’t worry kid. I’m not going anywhere.”

Damian twisted from where he was guarding the door. “We need to leave.”

Dick nodded bluntly, finishing with the last of the locks. “I’m going to have to pick you up, okay sweetheart?”

You barely registered what he had said. Everything had grown numb, you nodded anyhow. Moving his arms underneath your legs and slipping one arm behind your back, Jason began to lift you. He nearly recoiled when you cried and whimpered with the way your wounds jostled as he sprinted out of the building to get you back to safety. 

~

You were yet to say anything since you came home. You had been back a few days and your wounds were healing up nicely thanks to Alfred’s handywork, but the air was eerily silent around you. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t been communicating with them; you spoke to them with gestures or writing but no one was used to not hearing your voice. The stark contrast between your loud and bustling personality and you now was unsettling. No one wanted to push you too far but the manor was beginning to grow lonely. 

It was one particularly rainy night when you finally spoke.  You were curled up in a large armchair by the window in the library, sinking back into the plush leather as you watched the raindrops race down the glass. Jason had been watching you from afar, contemplating whether to talk to you or not when he walked over. 

“What are you up to?” He asked you, making sure you knew that he was there before he spoke. 

You gestured toward the window,then to the half opened book at your feet and shrugged. 

“I see.” He nodded, taking a seat on the armchair opposite you. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you. Jason wasn’t much of a talker. He knew more than anyone what you were going through, which was why it was nice just to know that he was willing to sit with you, just so you knew that he was there if you needed him. It made you feel safe. But you also couldn’t help but feel guilty, and frustrated with yourself for being in a place that made him feel as though he had to do that. 

“I’m sorry.” You whispered. 

Jason had to do a second take. His heart swelled. “What for?”

You sighed. “This. When I saw him…i-i froze. If I had run then this would never have happened.”

“Shh. This isn’t your fault.”

“But-”

“I promise, Kid. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

You nodded, looking away from him. But then you furrowed your brows and turned back to him. “How did you do it? How did you deal with this, Jay? Every time I close my eyes he’s there.”

“I guess I don’t, really. Or sometimes it feels like I don’t. I still get scared sometimes. I still see him in my dreams. But over time it gets easier. I had people around me to help me. And so do you, kid. We’re here. We’ll always be here.”

Jason shifted to brush away a rogue tear and you leaned into his touch and then wrapped your arms tightly around his middle. 

“I’m here. Always. We’ll get through this together.”

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

BATFAM TAGS

@aestheticdaisies @hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @mamapucket @hell-o-kittys @harleycao @batfamsstuff @alicedawitchbish

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[mimiii-3]

I LOVE SABOTEURR , that's such a cool conceptt, how would they realize they're also yandere for the reader ?

Hmmm great question🤔

…

Saboteur Pt.3

Yandere Platonic Batfam x GN Neglected Reader

Notes: typical yandere themes, stupid batboys

…

Bruce

Bruce was grateful to leave for patrol after the emotionally exhausting confrontation between you and your brothers. Bruce sits atop Gotham’s Cathedral, covered by the shadow of an imposing gargoyle.

His cowl masks the sour expression that’s stuck on his face. He can’t remember the last time you raised your voice in the manor. Let alone at him.

The hurt in your voice as you made your long-brewing confession rings in his ears. How long has his sweet child felt this way? When was the last time he asked you how you were doing? How long has he been such a deadbeat?

Rain starts to fall over Gotham like a hazy blanket. The wind grows crisp but fails to subside the simmering anger that festers in Gotham’s dark knight.

Dick

The drive to Bludhaven seems to be endless as Dick weaves in and out of traffic. His slender fingers drum nervously against the wheel. Something’s wrong. Something’s very wrong.

He just can’t seem to place it. Were you always this complicated? Since when were you so desperate for attention?

Dick shakes his head in disbelief. The timid soul he’s known all these years is a fraud…a shyster. He doesn’t know whether to feel pity or anger.

One on hand he’s mad that you’ve been lying to the family for who knows how long. On the other hand he can’t help but feel bad for his little sibling.

Dick’s conflicted emotions wear at his easy-going persona. He sucks his teeth and eases back into the seat. He needs time. Time to think this through. Time to decide what he’ll do to you when he finds out where you’ve gone.

Tim

Tim mindlessly scrolls through the videos and screenshots of you framing their darling. Your work is amateurish but somehow skated by them.

There’s one picture that stands out to him. He increases the image on the monitor. It shows Bruce patting the top of your head while you practically beam at him.

A simple pat on the head and you’re happy as a clam. Tim never realized how easy it was to win your affection. If he had known, maybe he’d have given you a hug every once and a while.

Tim’s imagination drifts off as he picks through the security tapes. Each one leaving a trail of jealousy in their wake.

Damian

Impressive. His older, idiotic sibling is more capable than he thought. You’ve been framing the family’s darling for months without a hint of remorse.

He feels almost proud of you. Such viscous behavior while simultaneously pretending to be darling’s friend. How cutthroat of his completely useless sibling.

Damian, curious to learn more about the deceiver living in his home, makes his way to your room. He opens your bedroom’s sticker-covered door and scrunches his nose. The smell of overlapping, burnt candles wafts out of the room.

The walls of your room drip with personality. Damian takes one long look and shuts the door behind him. What else have you been hiding from his all this time?

…

Extra Notes: the calm before the storm🫣

[bluetooththereptile]

The original

When Bruce lost his parents, he was left distraught, both of you were, Bruce had lost his parents, and you had become an heir to a dying company, an old Manor and a guardian to your younger sibling at 19, it was destined to happen, finding yourself in the vast vaern beneath the manor that is.

You became the shadow that hunted down criminals at night, for your own goals at least, you needed to beat someone up for the sake of having a catharsis for the pressure, unknowingly, you planted the seed of a legend that would take root and shake the city of the dead.

How did Bruce find out? He was a smart boy from the start, and it wasn't long that he'd try to peer over your shoulder as you fidgeted with the gadgets you had made, you didn't know the stocks you'd buy for the Wayne company make it into an empire, you just had bought them because they helped you produce some up to tech of the time technology to help you beat the fucking light out of the people that either pissed you off or were trouble in general, yeah, you were angry and upset, but you tried to be a good parent to your sibling, that was why he wanted to join you.

"The bat needs a Robin" "I'm not a bat Bruce, and I hate them" you groaned, haunched over your desk, a picture that would never leave Bruce's memories, not even when you were sucked into the warp of the timelines, never to be found again. "Let me be your Robin" "Whatever, pass me the tape"

The reader is the original, the first bat, the one that was the foundation, the sibling, the parent, Bruce's beloved sibling.

[visionofhope04]

Viper (Part 1)

Batfamily x Batsib!Reader

Part 1 (here) Part 2 (coming soon!)

Ages(probably not accurate, just go with it please): Alfred (Immortal), Bruce (45-ish), Barbara (30), Dick (29), Cass (26), Jason (26), Stephanie (21), Tim (20), Reader (18), Damian (16)

Warning(s): cursing, explosions (not detailed), speak of poison and poisoning, (very) minor violence

Part 2 of this headcannon

A/N: Sorry this took so long 😭. So in the preview I posted I said I'd try using third person and they/them pronouns. It hasn't been working out which is why I didn't post this sooner, I'm sooooo sorry :( I've switched it back to using you because I figured it's still inclusive. Hope you guys enjoy this tho! I’m ngl I had a heart attack bc I thought this draft got lost to the void and I was abt to post it.

—

Your boots pounded ferociously on the concrete as you ran and made a sharp right turn into another alleyway. He wasn't far behind you, it would only be a matter of time before you were caught. You had to lose him, fast. Your heart beat against your ribcage, your breaths came out in pants from your nose. You were sweating, and not just from the physical effort. Despite being a trained assassin, you were nervous. Getting caught would change everything, but you were confident in your abilities. However, that did little to stop the lingering feeling of dread you felt every time he got a little too close. You sped up and turned right again into a narrow alley. The Red Hood, who was chasing you, did not expect this and couldn’t slow down, and passed the alley. Frustrated, he backpedaled and ran down the alley he saw you go into.

He reached the end of the alley and slowed to a stop. The alleyway opened up to an empty street, and there was no sign of you anywhere. All he saw was the odd stains on the alley’s walls, a dumpster, and garbage bags strewn about. He lost you.

“Fuck!” He exclaimed, then kicked the dumpster for good measure.

You jolted in your hiding spot, hopeful he wouldn’t notice the extra weight when he kicked it. Your heart began pounding harder, as if it was trying to escape your body, if he found you, you honestly thought it might. Blood rushed in your ears as you waited with bated breaths. Would he open it? Find you? Compromise everything you’ve worked so hard for? You wouldn’t go down without a fight, but with the Lazarus pit in his blood and not much of it in yours, you doubted you’d be able to take him with strength alone. You’d have to be smart about it, as always. Though you didn’t know how your poisons would affect someone the Lazarus pit had such a strong hold on, you’d stupidly never tried it before. You doubt your mother or grandfather would’ve approved of it, as they would’ve been the ones you tested it on (never Damian, you’d never do that to your precious little sibling), but the knowledge would’ve been helpful at the moment. You desperately hoped that he wouldn’t find you, so you wouldn’t have to find out on him. You didn’t want to kill him after all, he’s a part of Damian’s new family. You couldn't ruin your little sibling's chance at a family, at least one of you could find happiness.

After agonizing moments that seemed like years with your overactive brain, you heard him mutter a few more profanities and his footsteps receded. You held your breath as you waited and observed the sounds you heard. Water dripped from somewhere, most likely a roof, and then rustling. Your heart began to pound harder, assuming he was searching, only for you to hear a quiet ‘meow’ and instantly relax. Once you were sure no one was there, you carefully lifted the dumpster lid and peeked. No one. Perfect. You slinked out of the dumpster and grimaced at the smell. Gross, yes, but it worked. It wasn't by far the worst place you've hidden in, but you'd definitely need to shower as soon as you got back to your hideout. The things you do for this job. You trudged in the direction of your current main base of operations, taking great care to stay out of everyone's sight, especially Oracle's.

—

That was your first run-in with Red Hood. It took him longer than expected to figure out what was going on. Took him even longer to find you. You didn't mind though, it gave you more time to work with. It wouldn't be long before Red Hood kept failing to catch you and decided to involve the Big Bad Bat, though. With Batman would come Robin, then Red Robin, and then Nightwing. If Robin found out, it would ruin the whole plan.

The plan was simple, really. Take over Gotham's underground unnoticed, gather members and create a gang, find a perfect time to cause a gang war to distract the Batfamily, and then Talia would initiate her plans to take over Gotham while the bats are busy. Well, that's what the agreed plan was. You'd always been a loose cannon. Since Red Hood had been so close to catching you, the "unnoticed" part had been foiled, albeit a bit later than anticipated. 

"Hey boss, what brings you in today?" Your loyal henchman, Hopper asked you.

"We've got a job to do. Grab some explosives. We're sending a message."

—

“These places feel haunted.” Willow, another one of your most trusted henchmen, said as she placed one of the four explosives into place. 

“It’s probably the Joker’s victims’ souls, he loves warehouses, like typical villains. Maybe they’re here to warn us, ‘Don’t go into the basement, that’s where we’re buried!’. Or maybe they’ll kill us, who knows.”

“This isn’t a joke, you’re scaring me Tina!”

“You guys done?” You ask impatiently, but reluctantly slightly amused.

“Yup.”

— 

"Seven simultaneous explosions have just been spotted around the perimeter of the city."

"Head to the site closest to your current location. If you're paired with someone, split up. Oracle, call in Nightwing and Red Hood if possible. Do not engage with anyone, survey the damage only. "

"Yes sir!" Chirped Spoiler.

— 

After two hours, at 3 am, everyone returned to the cave.

“I take everything I said about explosions back, I hate explosives.”

“Welcome to the club, Timmy! I’ve hated explosives ever since-”

A chorus of groans resonated throughout the batcave, “We know, Jason!”

“You’re not special Todd, most of us here have died in one way or another.”

“Yeah but have you-”

As Damian and Jason began bickering and the whole group headed to the lockers, Dick pulled Bruce aside. 

“B, I didn’t want to say this in front of the others, but I think something bigger is going on. I found these objects around the warehouse I investigated.”

Batman took the bag Nightwing offered and observed the strange objects. Metal letters. Two A’s, one I, one L, and one T.

“It spells Talia.” He observes.

“She would never do something like that if she was behind it, and she wouldn’t leave a calling card, especially not in that form.”

"I know. Hmm. The damage seemed deliberate. It only destroyed the warehouses on the edge of the city. It caused minimal to no damage to surrounding properties."

"You're saying whoever did this is sending a message, about Talia." Nightwing inquired.

"Precisely."

“But who would do this? And why would they warn us? And what exactly are they warning us about? They must be close to her to have an idea of what she’s planning.”

“We’re going to find out.” He says, then turns to Tim, who had just exited the lockers. "Red Robin, check all security footage at all explosion sites and around them, report back all your findings."

Red Robin nods and heads to the Batcomputer to get to work.

—

Dun dun dunnnnn! So how'd you like it? It's been a while since I've wrote anything and it's because I hit a MAJOR writing block. Hope you enjoyed! I was fighting with these tags fr

Tags: @shakespear-picaso-lovechild @rosemary1225 @azazel-nyx @chevelledahuman

@snowcatlove

@danonered @cantbecreative

[fictitious-obsession]

BigBro Dick Grayson with Little Sibling Vigilante Reader Headcanons

I have not done a sibling relationship one yet and really wanted to. Hope you enjoy! Here is my masterlist for more. ~ Anya

When you were brought in by Bruce into the Batfam, he immediately had a soft spot for you.

Training sessions with him are calculated, but not as grueling as with some of the others.  He lets you pick what to work on, but does try to make it more fun.

After training snack stops are a MUST.  Anything from ice cream to sweets to chips to smoothies. He’ll take you after a good workout or training

Patrols can be both fun and frustrating. He will be overprotective, but try to crack jokes on a boring night.

He is responsible as much as he is fun, so when he sees you focused on the patrols or missions, he takes pride in that.

He is well aware that you can fight and kick ass on your own and won’t cut in to take that from you. He really only gets in the way if he feels like you are in danger or at a high risk.

If you get into an argument or fight with one of the other Batfam members, he lends an ear and tries to calm you down.

He knows your body language well and goes out of his way to check if you are okay or give you your favorite things to cheer you up.

He definitely builds blanket forts for him, you, and the other siblings. Full of lights, pillows, and lo-fi music.

When he moves to Blüdhaven, you are welcome to stay with him whenever you want. He is a phone call away, no matter what.

For major events in your life, he is there for you. From a prom night, to your 21st birthday, to bringing your partner over for the first time, he is there as your hype man.

When it comes to romantic advice, he’s a bit of an over-sharer, but he wants you to be happy and not be heartbroken by some jerk. He’ll give you his perspective and red and green flags.

In addition to relationship chats, he loves to hear about your crushes and/or partner.  Seeing you so passionate about someone is adorable and raw to him. He also takes it as a sign of trust.

When you get sick, he goes full mother-hen mode with Bruce and Alfred to take care of you. He will overreact, but it’s out of love

Same goes for if you are injured while on patrol. He goes into first aid mode and fusses over getting everything for you.

He is the dad of the group when it comes to snacks and feeding you. You will not go hungry with him around.

But he isn’t always fun and games. If you are getting too rowdy or rough, he will make sure to let you know.

When a plan of attack is in motion, he watches over you to be sure you do it right and safely.

He does not tolerate separating from the core values of the Batfam, but will not be as harsh as some of the other members.

If you are one of the vigilantes that takes more to violence or killing, he will show disapproval, but not hold it against you outside of the costume.

Overall, he cares for you a lot and will look after you, while still respecting your space and choices. A good big bro.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Hope you liked it. :) Feel free to read more or make requests. ~ Anya

[writing-mlm]

DtMF

Summary: after losing so many people close to you, you have a lot of regrets Wc: 800 tags/warning: genderless reader, unsafe drinking habits boarding on alcoholism, talks about Alfred, Wally, and Jason’s death, regrets, like a ton, this is lowkey just a vent but I’m using my favs as an outlet a/n: man grief hurts like a bitch fuck you bad bunny ily

You’ve left Gotham years ago, the place you’d grown up in. Left behind your family and your friends, lost touch with the people you’d once loved with your entire being. You’re still close, you’d like to believe that as you walk along the shore of Jump City, listening to the waves and watching as the sun sets; one of many you’ve seen since leaving the plane. 

Alfred had spoken about watching sunsets when he was younger, he likes— liked— watching from a high point in the manor. Jason, too. He used to wake you up from your naps and drag you to the balcony, resting his chubby chin on the wooden banister as the soft glows highlighted his eyes. Alfred would bring the two of you a cup of morning tea and chocolate milk, pretending he was sticking around to collect the dishes. 

You’re sorry for the sun as you glare at her, the painful memories manifesting as a physical pain until you take a swing from your bottle of whatever alcohol you had left in your cabinet. You stumble over a shell and look at it, chest heaving as you pick it up and pocket it. 

The beach reminds you of Wally, how he’d run around and kick up sand. How you’d laugh even though you hated the feeling of sand on your skin; only laughing because you were with him. You look ahead and remember the times you almost told him you liked him, how you’d wanted to kiss him since the first time Dick introduced the two of you. 

You’re forgetting how they look. You’re forgetting the color of Alfred’s eyes, if Jason parted his hair down the middle or not at all, how many freckles Wally had across his face. 

You hate yourself for being such a stick in the mud about taking pictures. You should’ve taken more with them, maybe when you looked back at them they would’ve been better. And not just a grumpy pre-teen who was just starting to hate themselves. How now the only up-to-date pictures you have of them are void of you. As if you’d suddenly left your life at some point. 

Your heart hurts as you think too hard about that, about how the most up-to-date picture with the two of you is from their funerals. You’d been the pallbearer for all of them, always on the right because somehow you’d managed to wiggle your way into all of their hearts despite the fact they were all very different people. 

And despite your heart hurting so much, you feel empty at the same time. That ache feels as if it’s shining a spotlight in the gaping holes that have formed over the years. 

A guy offers you a tray of something white as you pass by his group of friends, he calls after you shouting about needing a boost. You ignore him; they all hated drugs. One of his friends tells him he’s being a dick; she calls him Todd. He calls her Penny. You take another sip. 

You should’ve taken more pictures. You should’ve hugged them more, accepted the forehead kisses from Alfred, and given them more to Jason. Gotten the courage to kiss Wally. 

Clark finds you after searching for an hour and lugs you into his arms. You slug out apologies as he adjusts you in and he just gives you this hopeful look. You hate that he sees you like this, you love him and that’s supposed to encompass the good and the bad but you only want him to see your good. You’d spent too much time giving him your ass after their deaths. 

Later, you find yourself playing dominoes with Pa Kent. You’d taught him to play and he quickly became obsessed with it. He asks if you still think about them; you lie and tell him no. He pretends to believe you and mentions that Kara could use some help making friends in her city. 

You agree; she definitely could. He laughs and you’re on your way to Kara. She’s out with friends, drinking in a club that you quickly find yourself trapped inside of, getting drinks mixed with rum. You drink and you drink, just as you’d done the previous night until you’re kicked out by the bouncer. Apparently, people were concerned for you and that’s how Kara spots you. As people whisper and point at the person getting escorted out. 

You tell Kara you love her as she picks you up, you tell her she’s like a cool younger— or is it older— cousin you’d never get to experience. You tell her you should take more pictures together, nearly dropping your phone when you try to. 

She listens as you drunkenly talk about Dick having a baby, a girl. How you used to steal his cool clothes and now, she’ll be the one to steal them. She watches as you cry, finally admitting for the first time that you’d been in love with Wally since the first time Dick introduced the two of you. She listens as you tell her that you don’t want anyone in your life to leave again. She cries when she hears all of your regrets in life, texting Bruce that he needs to get in contact with you soon without you noticing.

[lostidiot24]

Hi! *

First off loved dog days are over, is it OK to recuest a part 2? 0 ++++

Thanks, so my keypad is misbehaving.

Hi!!! I’m so happy that you liked it😭 and of course! I really liked the idea I had for this story and I’m glad other people enjoyed it.

🪽Mary on a Cross🩹

Batfamily x Gender Neutral!sibling!Reader

Part 1: Dog Days Are Over

Song: Mary on a Cross by Ghost

Summary: After being rescued by Dick, your life has been anything but normal. Being a vigilante has its own unique risks but this incident has made your family very aware. Turns out, seeing your family member half dead can make you question your life choices.

TW: Burns maybe? None?? If there is any then please tell me!

(This took me a while to write cause my brain decided to stop imagining for once in its life but I hope you like this part😁)

/——/——/——/——/——/——/——/——/——/

Your senses came back very slowly. You could feel your hand twitch before the sounds of people talking over each other invaded your ears. A gentle but scarred hand clasped yours in a tender manner before your mind cleared. With a jolt, you sat up frantically and shook in slight fear. Your eyes opened and quickly shut from the bright lights. Your family was worried even more when your eyes showing no sign that you recognized them. Your body had many weird reactions to things and one was fainting out of fear, so that’s what you did.

Silence surrounded the cot you laid on as your family stared at your unconscious body.

“At least they’re not scared anymore…?” Steph shrugged with a nervous smile as she grabbed the hand that Jason wasn’t holding. He glared at her before looking back down on your body with a worried gaze.

“They’re fine. They were out of it when Dick picked them up so they probably don’t know where they are.” Tim walked through the doors of the med bay and sat down on a chair near the cot. “We got them stabilized so now we just have to wait.”

/——/——/——/——/——/——/——/——/——/

When you woke up, it was peaceful. Your body swayed gently with a gasp as your eyes widened at the sight before you. Everyone was asleep. Tim was asleep on the spinning chair while everyone else either slept on a cot or on the chairs for people visiting. Bruce and Alfred weren’t in the room with you and you guessed that was because it was the day already. Based on the clock on the desk, it was 11:17 am. With a wobble, you stood up off the cot and tiptoed into the cave.

When you left the med bay fully, you looked down and saw that you were in some pajamas that looked like yours. With fear in your eyes, you checked and was relieved to see that they didn’t take off your vigilante suit. While yes, your wounds needed to be treated, you were glad that they respected your privacy. They treated the ones that could be seen from outside the suit but you guessed that there probably wasn’t any under anyway. You carefully tiptoed up to your room after you walked out of the cave and up the stairs. When you got where to your room, you changed into different pajamas and assessed the damage fully. Burns rose up your back and crawled over your shoulders and around your thighs.

How can I not feel them?

The clock on your bedside table glowed slightly as the numbers and the date lit up. It’s been a week?! Questions swirled in your head but you settled upon the theory that they put a lot of pain relief in your blood. A knock sounded at your door and you quickly put your shirt back down before opening it. It was Dick.

“[Name]! I was so worried when you weren’t in the med bay!” He quickly walked towards you and wrapped quivering arms around your body. The ache of pain ran through your back when his arms pushed upon the burns. Dick quickly realized his mistake and pushed away from you. “Oh sorry, forgot about that… oh and B wants to talk to you.” The mention of your adoptive father created a cold environment in your room. He wasn’t a terrible father! He just had too many kids to keep track of, or that’s what you tell yourself.

“[Name]?”

“Oh sorry Dick, I was lost in my thoughts but I’ll be down in a minute.” He gave you a warm and nervous smile while her turned away, walking down the stairs. You stood in your thought for a valid amount of time until you pushed past your door and started your trek into the unknown ground of Bruce’s emotions.

/——/——/——/——/——/——/——/——/——

A/N: I’m definitely gonna make another part that has some angst/comfort from my favorite brother Jason🤩 but for now I’m gonna leave it here and give my mind a break lol

[cursedkeyboard]

Big brother's here ☆ Jason Todd & Younger Sibling Reader

You're the second youngest member of the Wayne family and Jason Todd's favorite sibling 🦇 GN!Reader

First off, Jason Todd is a naturally caring person

Even with his grudges and anger, he still cares about his family

So when it comes to you, he's extra caring and protective

You joined the family a little earlier than Damian did, all bright eyed and freshly orphaned

Your connection with Jason wasn't immediate, he was still processing many emotions, his thirst for revenge and the betrayal, and avoiding the manor like the plague

You didn't know much about him except for his face and name, which you'd seen in portraits

Bruce always avoided talking about him, but when he slipped his face would turn somber and regretful, which left you wondering

But the day you two met, when he'd been forced to join forces with the other bats for a specific operation, it was... strange, to say the least

Jason was conflicted at best and angry at worst

Angry at Bruce for bringing yet another kid into this wretched life

And conflicted as you took his hand into your smaller ones and felt himself melt

He always did have a soft spot for kids and it didn't help that you were so damn cute

"You have some rotten luck, squirt." He'd say softly before teasingly flicking your tiny nose, making you giggle. "To end up in this house of all others."

Even though he was supposed to help with the mission, Jason spent all of his free time with you as long as Bruce wasn't around

He'd make an effort to spend time with you.

Reading, playing, teasing, and even cooking with you

Mind you, he's got a busy life, but for you he'd put some extra effort to be a good role model in your life

Since the people in your life were a bunch of costumed freaks

Jason would try to keep you away from the bat life, no doubt about that

He's tired of seeing kids being put in danger, tired of the never ending cycle of abuse and neglect, so he'd fight tooth and nail to keep you away from such dangers

But he'd also teach you self defense

Because y'all live in Gotham

You know he'd 100% take you out to eat whenever you got a high grade or won a competition

Or dyed Tim's hair pink

Or laughed at one of his lame jokes

He just likes spending time with you, since you're the least infuriating sibling and a damn cutie

But that doesn't mean he wouldn't tease and be an asshole either

Mess with his things when you're hanging in his house?

You're cleaning his dishes

You go through any awkward phases?

He's keeping pictures and videos until the day he dies

Probably keeps them in encrypted hard drives for future blackmail and teasing

He was the absolute worst during puberty

Always mocking your voice cracks

Pointing out your pimples

Then you'd mention his early robin outfits and he'd put you in a headlock

He'd take you out to ride on his motorcycle whenever the people at the manor got too much

Jason and you gossiping behind Bruce's back

He'd probably rant about his love life to you through the phone

You're the only sibling he can do that with without putting his crush(es) in danger anyway

If you bleached your hair to match his white streak he'd probably cry a little after roughhousing with you

He may be a bit of an ass sometimes, like every older brother

But Jason truly loves you

You're his favorite sibling

(When you're not messing with his guns unsupervised, that is)

[nosyrobin]

Dick who is feeling prideful: Who’s your favorite sibling lil D?

Damian not hesitating at all about his twin: Y/N.

Dick coughs in his fist feeling a little hurt.

Dick: let me rephrase that. WHO’S your favorite non-blood sibling?

Damian actually thinks about it before opening his mouth.

Damian: I am loyal to my sibling that is my blood. No one shall take their spot in my heart.

Damian dramatically puts his hand to his heart meanwhile dick is very close to punching the boy in the throat.

Damian: though Grayson, you are tolerable. I can recommend that you are my favorite “non-blood.” Brother….

Dick smiles before what Damian said made him frown.

Damian: Though, you are below Todd.

Dick: MOTHER FUC—

[neerathebrightstar]

I want to eat your brain

What We Want - Chpt. 7 - Black N' White Knight

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

“I can’t believe that just happened,” Dick tells Tim, hand carting through his hair. The two of them are in the kitchen, at the breakfast bar. Tim sitting in front of his laptop with his legs crossed, and Dick tapping one foot agitatedly against the marble floor. While Tim might not be grinning ear to ear, it’s pretty obvious for anyone who knows him that he’s delighted by the tale Dick just regaled to him.

And what a tale it was. He hasn’t seen you in a year and a half, and then when he does, he finds you teary eyed staring at a picture of him shirtless at the gym. Bruce had always told him the way he played with the paparazzi would come to bite him in the ass one day, but he really can’t say he expected… that.

Obviously, it had to be a prank. That’s his first thought. That’s his only thought, really. What other explanation could there be? An accident? Maybe you’d forgotten what his room looked like. It wasn’t like he kept much personal stuff in his Wayne manor room, the only markers his clothes and the letters he kept in his drawer from his parents.

And you were wearing his clothes, of all things. He’d be surprised if you forgot how much of a Superman fanboy he was, seeing as he’d spent many hours ranting to you before the explosion. So, a prank. A show of good will, an olive branch maybe? It was more likely you were just fucking with his head, as you’d done in the past. Never like this, though.

This was just… bizarre.

“I can’t either,” and of course, Tim sounds near estatic saying that. The love of chaos ran true in that one.

Dick had managed to wrangle his life under control a few years back, and despite the universe seeming to try to unravel it at the seams, he was indisposed to let it simply happen. Even if you of all people had changed. No, Dick was getting older, and he was finding his taste for chaos a lot more… limited.

He didn’t want to suffer it’s affects. He was currently suffering it’s affects.

“I knew something was going on when she showed up to the party, but this…” Tim pauses, leaning back in his chair, “It’s gotta be a prank, right?”

It said a lot about their family that this was all the assumption they defaulted to.

“It could be something else. Did you even take her to the hospital after?” Dick offers instead, overthinking as always. This situation seemed to be made for overthinking, though.

Tim hums. “No, we did not.”

Then he turns his stare to Dick, like he’s expecting something from him.

“Seriously?”

“What? You’re the friendly one.”

Dick very much did his best to seem like the friendly one, at least. Tim was well aware it was a complete farce, though. Dick was nice but he could also be a bit… well… a bit of a dick. Another thing he’d been trying to overcome. He was doing better than when he’d been seven, at least.

Dick sighs, pressing his hand to his forehead, “I’d probably just end up accidentally nagging her, and then she’d never speak to me again.”

“That’s not my problem,” Tim shrugs, glancing back down at his laptop and squinting.

“It is, actually. Because if she stopped talking to me you’d probably be the next one till the girls and Duke came home who has to talk to her.”

“She could talk to Jay,” Tim offers, because he’s a shithead. Dick bets he did the same with Bruce, “And besides, I’m busy doing surveillance.”

“You mean stalking.”

“I do it to everybody, stop making such a big deal out of it.”

Dick sighs again.

“Hm, you might want to check your phone,” Tim says, in a way that suggests he has once again tapped the network. Keeping him out of Dick’s private life was like Sisyphus and his boulder. He still wasn't going to give up, and the time Tim and Steph mercilessly bullied him for getting dumped over text had made him all the more so.

‘Dont_try’: hey. can you come pick me up? thx

“Please, tell me you sent that and are just messing with me,” Dick begs, staring down at his phone in mild despair. Chaos. Always fucking chaos. Despite how hard he tried, he could not keep his family out of trouble. God damn it, when he’d gotten this job he’d been the one made for trouble. Where did he go wrong?

“Honestly, sounds like the sort of thing I’d do, but the girl just got bitch slapped so I really think you should respond fast.”

“What?!”

“She’s fine now, run to the bathrooms I think. You know for such an upstate place you’d think they had better camera positioning,” Tim mutters, complaining that he can’t watch every single little movement you make. Dick thinks he should probably worry about this, as it’s a clear sign of another decline for his sanity, but he’s now got this shit to deal with.

“Why, Tim? What is going on? Just tell me what’s going on.”

“Hm?” he’s engrossed by the computer, “Ah, the shitty boyfriend… some soup- ha, how is she such a clutz? Maybe we should get her head checked again- and… an altercation of some kind? I don’t know, I can’t see it properly.”

Dick leans forward in his stool, clasped hands covering his face for a moment.

“Are you going to reply? If you don’t soon, she’ll probably make it a bigger shitshow,” Tim says, nudging his foot against Dick’s. Dick, good big brother that he is, takes a deep breath and steadies himself. Even if this is really not what he wanted for his holiday, he’s dealt with much, much worse.

The press will have forgotten about this within the week. You, however, likely not. He’d promised to help you all those years ago, and even if he had no idea why you were reaching out to him, or if you would even be amicable when you met again, he’d still damn well do it.

He glances back down at his phone.

“What is going on?” Dick repeats to himself, and Tim’s head cocks to the side. There’s that familiar cat that got the cream grin spreading across his younger brother’s face, and it just really isn’t welcome right now.

“Intrigued yet?”

Unfortunately for both him, Tim and especially you, Dick already was.

He’s in his car in five minutes flat, finger tapping against the premium leather wheel. The sound of it is the only thing that manages to keep him sane.

Riding up to the place, Dick realises that no, maybe the press won’t be over this within the week. Considering the amount of paparazzi swarming the place, he doubted you’d be free for at least a few months. To be fair, the mysterious ex-wayne making such a scene was a bit of a big deal. Before you’d been basically invisible, despite your immense wealth and past.

Invisible? Dick thinks he spots at least twenty cameras. And that’s not even mentioning all the phones inside that would’ve gotten up close videos of whatever happened. Their legal team would handle it fine, that which Barbara or Tim couldn’t wipe from the face of the earth. And that was very little, all things considered.

Dick has to push past the calls of his name, ignoring all the intrusive questions volleyed his way like the pro he was. He still makes sure to listen carefully and store away every vital bit of information, as well as remember the logos on the film crew’s van. Eventually he makes his way to the front of the line, and the flustered front of house immediately recognises his face and sweeps him inside. Dick ducks in with a thankful smile, which he admits, falters when he enters the scene.

A scene which you are not in. Your gold digging boyfriend was, though. Of all the things Dick regrets with you, it’s not breaking the horrid relationship the two of you had apart. Or well, the fact that you totally, loudly hated his guts. He was a sensitive guy, y’know!

He sees your terribly boyfriend - George, Dick remembers - raging at some poor servers, and he knows he need to go sweep in and save the pour soul. It’ll be a hard fight, he can already tell.

Before he does so, he sends a quick text to his phone.

Underwear_guy: Where are you?

Don’t_try: I’ll be right out.

Shockingly, that was the truth. You come striding into the restaurant, and immediately all eyes are on you. It makes you stutter-step. Dick can see you visibly stiffen up, before you manage to gather your courage and keep walking. You don’t even pay him a single glance as you walk straight towards your fuming boyfriend.

You try to whisper, keeping your voice quiet and your conversation private. The boyfriend seems uninterested in the idea.

“What the fuck are you thinking?!” he cuts you off.

You glance around, and then say something else. It seems like you’re trying to defuse the situation, but George seems uninterested by the idea. 

“This behaviour is ridiculous. You need to get it together, we’re in public!” he yells, like he isn’t the one causing a scene. He seems to be trying to intimidate you back into silence. But today and well, yesterday too, something is different about you.

Okay, that’s enough of that. Dick’s intervening.

“You cheated on me! You deserve it and everything that’s coming to you!”

Or, uh, maybe you’ve got it covered.

-

George’s shocked face is almost worse than when you literally bit him. Guess he expected you to be a bit more demure after that encounter. He should know better, the other version of you seemed to have been even more spiteful in nature.

Today again, you prove you are a less than stellar person. You’d stopped caring about George as soon as you’d discovered he’d cheated, but you were still angry. Not jealous, but furious. Bubbling up your throat, rage and bile and the urge to attack him once again, even if you just want to go home.

Your teeth grind. Your jaw ticks. And oddly, you realise you have a real taste for George Lancaster’s limbs.

Though your life had changed (literally) in the past few days, you were still the same girl from your first twenty-first. You wanted George Lancaster to suffer. Even more so, now that the evil cunt had hit you right in the face. The hit had stunned you, though. More emotionally than physically, but it had shocked you.

You couldn’t say you were a coward. You’d spent far too many days in your teenage years indulging in self-destructive behaviours to think that. But something about this pathetic man was scaring the shit out of you. You think that made you more pathetic, but you couldn’t quite tell. That’d be victim blaming, right?

You did have a habit of blaming yourself. It was just usually your fault.

…Maybe you shouldn’t have bit him, no matter how much the response was instinctual or his screech was satisfying. This was all too confusing, all too much. You needed to get back to your apartment, lock the doors and barricade them so nobody bothers you. And then maybe hibernate for a week. You needed some time to process all the stupid bullshit you were experiencing. The wayne manor was too much, your horrible white apartment was too much, George fucking Lancaster was too fucking god damn much.

You take a deep breath, and manage to stop yourself from bolting like a deer. Deal with the problem at hand. Deal with it now, deal with it!

“I’m leaving, and we are done. It’s that simple,” you tell George, trying to drill in a message that he seems unable to comprehend. At this point you’d assume he’d be trying to apologise, manipulate back into his good graces, but you think you might’ve completely broke him. Broke the script.

Good. That was damn well good.

“Can we talk about this somewhere else at least?” George replies, eyes flicking to Richard Grayson’s angry gaze. At least you think he’s angry. You can’t quite gather the courage to look directly at him.

Also, there’s the manipulation! You wish you weren’t right this time.

“Sure, but I’m bringing him, and my answer will absolutely not change. You hit me.”

“You bit me!”

Well, yeah, not your best moment. You don’t think you can regret it, though.

“Then I think this relationship is ending on equal terms,” you reply, trying your best to just get him to quit it. It is obviously not working by the way his expression darkens.

“I’ll tell the press everything,” George threatens, which, well, is sort of a shitty threat because I don’t even know what he’s threatening. ‘Everything’? Couldn’t he be a bit more specific?

You shrug. It is the wrong response, you know it is, but you’ve completely ran dry of fucks to give. Couldn’t be much worse than the bullshit happening right now. The press were already very well fed, considering the situation that was today. George makes a small sound of fury.

“We’ll sue,” Richard Grayson, the white knight that you’d daydreamed about, comes to your rescue. Is it odd that it’s kind of flustering? You probably shouldn’t be flustered.

George immediately snaps his gaze to Grayson’s, giving the man a look with a healthy dose of fear. Couldn’t blame the guy. Even if he was the second smallest of the three remaining brothers, he was still well known for being strong. His family often did kick-boxing, and their sister, Cass, often whooped their asses. It was sort of satisfying to watch. Anyway, his physical prowess from fighting to weirdo gymnastic bullshit was evident in his svelte build.

George was many things, but he wasn’t an idiot. With just the one threat from the Waynes legal team, he skitters away like the little rat you know him to be. He leaves the restaurant, and he very obviously does not pay or even leave a tip. You suppose you have the cash to make up for it. Then, ignoring the paparazzi, you were technically home free. You glance to the side. Richard Grayson’s beautiful face looks a mix of confuddled, frustrated, and exhausted. He still saved you, though, even after the fool you made of yourself.

White knight, indeed. It almost feels a bit anticlimactic, but it’s the results you wanted. And yet, an ominous feeling befalls you. Somehow, you don’t feel you’ve seen the last of George Lancaster. You just really hope the old you hadn’t committed any crimes. A tabloid? Humiliating, but livable. Prison? Not so much.

Not that the rich stayed in prison in Gotham, or even the rest of the world. It was kind of strange to realise you were sort of above the law now.

You glance at Dick, pulling your uncomfortably wet shirt away from your chest. You’ve sort of been bled dry of any shits you could give at this point, so you decide, very maturely, to make jokes and ignore all your problems. It had gotten you this far.

You’d seen this behaviour before. Many, many times. It was what usually got you fired. But now you didn’t really have to worry about that, so why should you worry about causing a scene and ruining your life a bit more? It wasn’t yours, after all.

“What do you think?” you joke, elbowing Dick. He looks down from glaring at the entrance George just slipped out of, to you. His blue eyes are a damn near shock to the soul. It takes everything in you not to start fidgeting.

“Think of what?” he responds, and despite how hard you try, you can not read his expression.

“I’m trying to make some more news. Don’t think the reporters got enough the other day,” you say, gesturing to the giant stain. It’s still Dick’s shirt. You hadn’t realised till now, but the Beatles was now some sort of green soup. Is it kind of gross of you to acknowledge that at least the soup smelled good?

Probably. You didn’t actually get to eat anything here. It’s also probably a bit weird that you’re thinking about eating at a time like this. Probably.

“I think you’ve done enough, honestly,” he says, glancing at the camera flashes from outside.

He sounds exactly like your mother, it’s almost uncanny. Well, this version of him technically knew her. You’re still not sure how well en-meshed your two families had been before the disaster, but maybe he’d picked up some traits from her.

…That… you’re not sure how to feel about the idea. The old green monster bubbles up at the thought, and you can’t tell if you’re jealous your mum got to meet Dick Grayson, or that Dick Grayson might’ve gotten to know your mum.

“We should leave,” he says, cutting off your bitter inner thoughts, “I know you don’t like it when the magazines bother you.”

You don’t? You don’t. Yes, that makes sense, ‘you’ definitely wouldn’t have. And it’s not like you feel comfortable with them either. In fact, if you think about the fact your drowned rat appearance will be on every tabloid in the city by tomorrow, probably alongside photos from your birthday, you feel so nauseous you could collapse. Going to compartmentalise that one.

“Yes, going, let’s go,” you say, following Dick out of the restaurant.

Despite the fact that the security guards are trying their best, it’s getting quite rowdy out here. When Dick wraps an arm around your shoulder, shielding you with his body, you almost just pass out right there. His muscles… Your heart simply can’t take it. As it is, Dick notices you jump like a foot in the air, and backs off. He still makes sure to try and protect you from their vision as much as possible.

Still, in an act that is purely rebellious, you turn and give them a big smile and a wave. Even as you hate every single person on the other side of the divide, you want to make one thing very clear. You will not be cowed by someone like George fucking Lancaster. Your peace sign and wink are a message to them, to him, and to yourself.

Despite the fact that this new life is one you have no idea how to handle, you know one thing. Put on a face, and it’ll always be easier.

Dick is probably wondering what the hell happened to you for you to be acting this way. Your shirt has a giant stain on it, you just broke up with your cheating boyfriend, went through a traumatising experience just a few days ago, and you’ve got the biggest grin on your face. This behaviour speaks more and more of a full blown mental breakdown. And it’s not the first you’ve had or the last.

There’s paparazzi snapping thousands of photos of the two of you, and instead of shying away as ‘you’ used to, you throw up a peace sign. One of the papps drops their camera. That confuses you a bit, as your peace sign deflates slightly. Didn’t they want more pictures? Weren’t you supposed to pose…?

For all you stalked celebrities online, you realise you have no idea how to pretend to be one. This is going to become an issue, you can already tell.

He points at a car, and you assume it’s his because he starts making his way over. He’s obviously done this sort of thing before, using and guiding the security with a smooth confidence. Even still, the two of you are a bit too close for comfort.

Which you prove, by putting your foot directly in your mouth.

“I don’t have abs, but do you think the press would like my stomach like they like yours?” you say, and almost immediately regret it. Another poor joke. You are deflecting so hard. And why the hell did you bring that up, you dunce? You feel your brain cells draining the more you’re around this guy, it’s not healthy for you.

“Please don’t pull your shirt up in public,” Dick sounds like he’s about to have a mental breakdown. It’s spreading, like the plague. You’re patient zero, of course. Even still he gets you guys to the car, and opens the side door for you. You follow his wordless command and slip into the passenger seat.

“I won’t. Sorry, sorry,” you reply, to relieve him of some of the trauma you’re currently inflicting.

He glances back to the papps, and then back down at you. His smile bowls you over like he’s getting the last strike in a fucking 300. He genuinely is the most beautiful human being you’ve ever seen. Thankfully, he closes the door so you have a moment to gather your sanity before he goes around the car and gets in the driver’s seat.

You hope you’re subtle when you shift away from him slightly. It shouldn’t be that surprising really. You were stupid on average. You would be stupider around attractive people. You would be frankly disastrous around someone as blastingly hot as Dick Grayson. The Waynes in general turned you into a drooling idiot.

Good god, you need to get out of this car. As soon as you think that, Dick is pulling away from the parking spot and out onto the streets. He makes slow progress because Gotham traffic, but eventually you manage to flee the horrifying stares of the cameras. Already you can tell it’ll be giving you nightmares. Probably along with images of the guy who tried to rape you and Damian Wayne sneering at you.

“So, how are you feeling?”

Despite how you wish it not, Mr. Grayson decides he’s going to start a conversation with you.

“Good,” you reply, the answer instinctive and an obvious lie.

You can feel his gaze on the side of your face, but you don’t dare return it.

“That’s good to hear,” he says, and his voice is gentle. Sort of infantilising if you’ll be honest.

While it is very clear to anyone who looks at you that you have no idea what you’re doing, you’d rather he didn’t bring it up. You’ll figure it out. You’ve always managed to figure it out. This is what you get for asking for help. Really, despite your momentary panic you could’ve taken George. Probably not physically, but…

“You can talk to me if you want, you know?”

“Can you stop the car, please?” you respond, when that question immediately activates your fight or flight response. Dick must notice something about you, because he quickly shoots forward and into a momentarily available parking spot.

You scramble with the door, shoving your way back out onto the asphalt. The immediate distinct smell of Gotham, even Gotham’s richer districts, calms you down. Sewage, the ocean, and the ever present smoke and fog.

Fuck’s sake. You aren’t making yourself look anymore well put together.

Clearing your throat, you turn and find Richard Grayson coming around the car hood towards you. There’s a worried look in his eyes, and you really don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like you made a deal with the devil. By getting rid of George, you’d gotten a new problem - and an infinitely more complicated one.

Shit, you need to stop making rash decisions when you’re having panic attacks. You’d say you should probably try and stop having panic attacks entirely, but you don’t really know how to do that.

The sound of your name has you snapping back to attention. Dick looks even more worried.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asks, taking a few slow steps towards you. Again, infantilizing. Like you’re a wild animal about to run. Wait, weren’t you just comparing yourself to a chihuahua? Well, it’s not the same when other people do it.

“I’d like to take a walk,” you say, hand scrunching into your pyjama pants, “Alone, I’d like some time alone.”

“…In that?” He glances down at the stain that is slowly starting to dry. It’s making your skin itchy, but at least it’s not as cold.

“I can buy something,” you say, remembering one of the apps on your phone was connected to your bank account, which you had to assume was pretty full. It’s kind of stupid that you haven’t checked that yet.

You’re starting to feel a bit defensive towards your own intelligence. Maybe it’s because you seemingly keep making all the worst decisions.

Dick doesn’t make it any better.

“Do you have cash on you?” he asks, showing how little faith he has in your general abilities to survive as an adult in Gotham.

“I do, I’ll be fine,” you insist, because god damn it, you will be. You just need a fucking minute.

You ran from the Wayne manor because you felt like you were being watched, and then as soon as you showed up at the world’s most uncomfortable apartment, the haunting wraith known as George dragged you out in your P.J.s. You could figure it the fuck out, if these people would give you some fucking space.

Richard Grayson seems to realise that you’re getting upset, because he goes quiet for a moment. After staring at you for a moment longer, for which you manage to find the courage to maintain eye contact through pure stubborn will, he asks you one final question.

“Are you sure you don’t want a ride home or something?” he asks, still seeming so determined to help you.

His suggestion brings flashes of images of you breaking down in front of the Bruce Wayne to mind. From almost a birds eye view, you see yourself sobbing against your own ruined dress as the billionaire looked on. Bile literally jumps up your throat, and it takes a lot of willpower not to grimace at the suggestion.

“Look, Mr. Grayson, I really appreciate-”

“That’s the second time you’ve called me that.”

Once again, you feel the urge to simply sprint away from your own problems, but you manage to hold yourself still. Still, you can’t think of a solution. You can’t really think much of anything. Instead you stare at Richard Grayson with your hands threaded together and your lips pressed into a thin line.

Though you open your mouth to speak, you find you have no excuses ready or available. You’ve talked yourself into a corner already, and it’s your third day in this world. Marvellous. Maybe you should just tell the truth.

Still, the dangers outweigh the pros. They don’t know you, they don’t have any real reason to take care of you. If they believe you, they’ll toss you out onto the streets penniless. And if they don’t-

You blink. There’s a highway sign behind Dick, and it catches your attention like a lightning bolt. ‘Arkham Asylum 800 miles’. It’s white blocky letters on green panelling feels like a sign from god, warning you from the path you consider taking.

And then you realise that you might actually get sent to Arkham if you say anything, and you resolve to never tell a single soul about what has happened to you. You’ve heard enough stories about the asylum, and by god, you are not being roommates with the fucking Joker of all people.

Eventually Dick realises he’s not getting anything out of you and he sighs, shaking his head. His annoyingly perfect hair mesmerises you for a second, but you manage to wrangle your brain back under control. He really doesn’t make it easy.

“I just want to know if you’re safe. If you’re going through anything, you know we’re always happy to help-”

“Dick,” you say his name, face twisting in discomfort, “This was a… a one time thing. Usually I can handle my problems. It just… it caught me off guard. George cheating was a huge shock, and I needed someone to stand by me.”

“And you know I always will, right?”

Ah. That’s… Dick Grayson was a stranger. You didn’t know him, and more than that he did not know you. He did not know what you would do, could do. You didn’t think anyone did, not even yourself.

It’s a silly idea to expect your celebrity crush to save you, and it’s one you find you can’t stomach it at the moment. It makes you feel disgusted with yourself at the idea. It’s too indulgent, too silly. It’s very simply, not possible.

You’ve given up on relying on miracles. These lessons had been beaten into you, really. You didn’t want to have to learn them again.

Your feelings must show on your face.

Dick lets out a whoosh of air, frustration palpable. He carts his hand through his hair. It still looks perfect. The world is unfair, yadda yadda.

“You run hot and cold, you know?” he gives you a grin. It says a lot about his ability to act, seeing as it seems almost natural. Almost, being the key word.

Also, he is absolutely correct. The chihuahua effect is in full-swing. And you know what? You are probably going to continue to run hot and cold, because you’ve never made a decision in your life. He’ll just have to get used to it.

You raise your hands and shrug, in the universal ‘what-can-you-do?’ motion. He wasn’t wrong. You were being completely erratic. Not even you knew what you’d do next. At least life isn’t boring these days, right Right? You wonder who you are trying to fool, because it’s certainly not yourself.

“I’ll contact you if I need anything,” you lie, because it seems to be the right thing to end this torturous conversation, “And I’ll make sure to keep contact with Alfred. You can talk to Jeanine if you need anything, as well.”

Dick, unfortunately, calls you out on your bullshit.

“But not you, right?” he says, smile still printed on his face.

Woof. You think… you’ve hurt his feelings? Ah shit, you instantly feel like the scum of the earth. Still, you don’t know how you could fix this. Arkham is a genuine threat lingering over your shoulder, you don’t know enough about your new cut-throat billionaire world, and you can not lose any faith they have in you. Any that you have left, that is.

You’re sorry, but this is coming down to survival. And you are a greedy person, after all.

In the end, you don’t have anything to say, and Richard Grayson leaves without a word. Watching him walk towards his car, you feel… bad. Really bad. The part of you that is still crushing on this guy, a very large part of you, feels like you’ve ended the earth. The other part, the one that recognises that once again you’re going to have to fight for yourself… well, she thinks so too.

Maybe… maybe you could fix this. Apologise. Once you’ve gotten your bearings and know you’re safe and 100% financially stable, maybe you’ll figure it out. Give him his shirt back after you’ve dry-cleaned it.

For now, you give him your back as well.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

[jasmines-library]

CAN YOU PLEASE DO SOMETHING WITH OLDER BROTHER DAMIAN WAHNE?? LIKE 11 ISH YEAR OLD READER?? Reader is also an ex child weapon. Just a silent cutie pie. I just wanna see Damian spoiling them. Or something with like reader not following his orders and telling Damian to go away and does reckless stuff that Damian did when he was younger and his older siblings are just laughing at the irony

Brotherly Love

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Note: Sorry again for the wait! but two in one day woo.

Warnings: Just fluffy

Word Count: 800.

ALSO THIS IS MY 100TH FIC 🎉🎉

⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

“If you walk out that door I swear to God-” Damian curses as you slink out of the door of the batcave. He had explicitly told you that he didn’t want you going on this mission because he had deemed it ‘too dangerous’ as soon as Bruce gave the details. For a boy who claimed he ‘didn’t give a shit’ he was rather protective. Of course, being the highly trained, and rather confident 11 year old you are (which basically meant you were an adult) you had decided that you weren’t going to listen to him. With a sly smirk, you slipped out of the door. “God dammit!”

Damian kicks the wheely chair beside him. It slides across the room.  And then there’s laughter.

It was Jason, geared up in his suit, minus the signature hood. He was leaning against the wall, an amused smirk on his face. 

“Finally getting a taste of your own medicine, huh Demon Spawn?”

“What?” Damian half snapped, his temper wearing thin as he spun around to face his brother.

This made Jason’s grin widen. “Don’t act as if you weren’t exactly the same.”

Damian glowered. “That’s different.”

Jason just raised an eyebrow. “Is it?”

“....shut up. Where are you going anyway?” Damian nods towards Jason’s suit. 

“Someone has to go and get them. And it certainly won't be you.”

~

“Hi Dami.” You smiled as you sat yourself beside him on the couch. He was still in a grump, grumbling about your excursion. Jason had gone to find you, but instead of bringing you home, he let you finish the mission. This royally pissed Damian off, and he was almost 100% certain that Jason had done it just to spite him. But as much as he wanted to, Damian just couldn’t stay mad at you. Especially when you looked up at him with those bright and mischievous eyes. You very much reminded your other siblings of Damian when he was your age. Though of course, now he would claim he was all grown up and always has been. And, even though Damian wished he could keep holding his grudge against you, his face couldn't help but melt. 

“Hey, kiddo.” he greeted, looking down at you curiously.

“What are you doing?” You ask. You had always been fond of your older brothers, but you had an especially soft spot for Damian, as he did for you. 

Damian held up the book that he was half reading, but then gestured to the TV that he kept getting distracted by. “I don’t even know why I bothered trying to be honest.”

“Oh.” You acknowledged before reaching forwards to pick up the video game controllers. You raised an eyebrow and held one out for him to take. He snatched it up and turned it on. Damian was very clearly competitive, however he let you win the first few rounds before he decided he had had enough and wanted to take all of the glory for himself. 

At some point, the two of you deemed it time for a break. It didn’t last long, but it gave the two of you long enough to stretch your legs. When you returned, Damian was already back on the couch. On the coffee table he had placed two steaming mugs of hot cocoa, topped with cream and marshmallows. He had also haphazardly placed a bunch of crisps in a bowl and had collected an extensive array of snacks that he had chucked onto the table too. 

You raised an eyebrow, looking curiously at him. 

“What?”

“You got snacks.”

“Yeah….well you looked hungry.”

Your face melted at Damian’s tenderness. Damian rolled his eyes as you took a sip of the hot chocolate, getting whipped cream on your face. He chuckled and gestured for you to wipe it away. You grinned up at him again.

“Thank you, Dami.” you beamed, nudging his side affectionately. 

“Yeah, well. Don’t get used to it.” He grumbled, unable to hide the sliver of a smile creeping up onto his face. 

The two of you eventually fall asleep, still in front of the TV and half gripping the controllers as the game idles on without you. It’s Dick who pokes his head around the door to see what the noise is. He is surprised to see you with your head on Damian’s shoulder as the two of you snooze. With a soft smile, he turns off the TV and places a blanket over the two of you. But not before snapping a quick picture of the two of you which he would definitely use to wind up Damian some point in the not too distant future.

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

BATFAM TAGS

@hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @hell-o-kittys @harleycao @batfamsstuff @alicedawitchbish

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

[mimiii-3]

For a bit more a fluffy au, I like to imagine that Batsib!reader, instead of sabotaging, just like leaves the manor and because genuinely no one cares (not Alfred or Darling) literally no one notices. Whilst that doesn’t sound fluffy, I think it’d really help with their healing.

They’ve already basically wasted all their life on their family, some of which they are literally related to (Bruce and Damian) just to see someone else loved, cherished and obsessed over.

In this case, I can imagine Batsib leaving Gotham and moving, maybe to the west coast (because Gotham is in New Jersey which is the west coast and starting anew. Maybe even starting a family of some kind, whether it’s a found family with friends or even taking in their own.

Cute idea!

…

Saboteur: Good Life

Yandere Platonic Batfam x GN Neglected Reader

Notes: fluff

…

What if batsib moves on from the family…

🦇 - while leaving your family would hurt, you knew it was necessary for your health

🦇 - you boldly made the cross country journey all the way from Gotham to Gateway City

🦇 - you drove for hours, slept at a hotel, and ate all sorts of fast-food

🦇 - you repeated this process for about a week and a half before arriving at your destination

🦇 - the city was so full of life it mesmerized you

🦇 - your apartment was small but it would work just fine

🦇 - you worked at a nearby diner and painted murals as a side hustle

🦇 - you started going to night school to earn your degree

🦇 - you made friends with your classmates and went out for ice cream after exams

🦇 - sometimes you would go thrifting after your shift at the diner

🦇 - you started to sell your paintings

🦇 - they eventually began to make enough money so that you could quit working at the diner and focus on your art

🦇 - after some time, you opened a small art supplies shop

🦇 - you spent most of your time taking care of the shop and getting to know the other small business owners nearby

🦇 - you moved into a condo that shared a wall with an elderly woman

🦇 - she caught you listening to her playing the cello and invited you inside

🦇 - your friendship with her was wholesome and she began to join you for holiday dinners

🦇 - she has deemed herself your honorary grandma and bakes you cookies

🦇 - your honorary grandma and friends from class often visit your shop and chat with you

🦇 - when the busy day is over, you walk behind your shop and down a sandy stairway

🦇 - the stairway drops you off on the beautiful beach next to your business

…

You walk across the soft sand to the edge of the water. The clear ocean water laps against your feet and you curl your toes into the sand.

You place your hands on the lower part of your spine and lean back. Your back cracks in relief and you stretch your aching limbs.

The sunset turns the distant water into an orange mirror that reflects the blinding light of the sun. The sea breeze clears your senses and whips lightly against your face.

Your body relaxes and you take a good look around. It’s all yours. Not really, but it practically is.

The beach, the people you meet, the paintings you sell, the streets you walk…they’re all yours. This is your life and you can’t help but smile at the thought of it.

You know it may not be a life full of manors and vigilantes but it doesn’t have to be. Instead you live your life full of love and that’s enough for you.

…

Extra notes: happy ending?!

Tag list:

@jjsmeowthie @shawty-a-lil-baddie @butratherbutrather @shirp-collector-of-fixations @stove-top96 @yaoizee @bellethesleepypotato @salfishers @eli-mayhaveatencats @wisefuncherryblossom @c4xcocoa

[luvly-writer]

Is it a Wonder I Broke?

Batfamily x Neglected! Reader

Author's note: I really did NAWT want to write a two parter but hey, I should have expected it with how much I write. I am so new to writing angst but I've had a thirst for writing and reading angst lately and I just NEEDED to cure it!!! ENJOY

Warnings: The Bats being kinda shitty, Neglect

Part 1 // Part 3

---

Damian was sure something was missing. He woke up that day and as he had breakfast, he had noticed something odd about Alfred. There was a certain sadness in his eyes that Damian couldn't place. None of them had gotten injured in last night's patrol. Jason's deathaversary (as he loved to call it) wasn't near. No one had fought, quite the contrary, he'd say this has got to be one of the weeks where they had best behaved and gotten along. Even Bruce and Jason were relaxed. So what plagued the man? Damian looked around the house and wondered what could be the problem. Maybe he was tired? Or Sick? That could be it. Sensing the young man's gaze on him, Alfred erased all emotion from his face and looked at Damian questioning.

"May I help you with something, Master Damian?" he asked with a raised brow. Damian inspected him thoroughly and hummed.

"You are different, Pennyworth" observed Damian and the butler gave the boy a deadpan. Nop, he's good, never mind. Maybe he was just thinking something unpleasant and it showed in his face.

And yet, the feeling didn't leave Damian. There was something odd in the house. Thankfully, it was Saturday, so he had the rest of the day to walk around and investigate. He had visited the gardens, and overseen the entirety of the first and second floor, yet nothing came to mind. What the fuck was wrong in this damn house?

He had decided to empty his mind in the art room. There, he spent the rest of his afternoon sketching a portrait of some plants he had seen in the garden. His 16th birthday was soon approaching and he really needed to get some new art supplies. The ones he had were old and very worn out. As he finished, he noticed the time and realized he had spent the majority of the day in the art room. He had gone to clean his hands and headed to the cave to suit up, hoping tonight's patrol would clear his head. What was missing?

So into his thoughts, Damian hadn't noticed the rest of his siblings down at the cave suiting up as well.

"Hey, Littlewing! What's got you looking so constipated?" Asked Dick with a hint of humor in his tone.

"Have any of you noticed that the manor feels rather odd?" he questions as he suits his boots up.

"What do you mean, bat brat?" Asked Jason raising his eyebrow.

"The manor, it feels….odd. As if something is missing. It feels emptier and I can't help but ask why. Not only that, have any of you noticed Pennyworth looking….strange lately?" He questioned and the group fell into silence, all thinking of his observation.

"Now that you mention it, Alfred has been looking a little tired lately. Like, you know, as if his age is kinda showing." Tim recounted

"And he has had this sort of sad glaze in his eyes" Steph added.

"It's not my deathaversery, I can assure you that" hummed Jason.

"And no other impacting date is near, so what could have caused him any sort of discomfort?" Asked Dick.

The group looked at each other, clueless about what could have caused their beloved butler and grandfather to feel odd.

"You don't think he might be sick and is hiding that from us?" Asked Duke

"But why would he be sad about that?" Barbara question.

Plagued with the heaviness of confusion, none of them noticed the patriarch of the family arrive all suited up and looking at them.

"Is everyone ready?" sounded Bruce's deep voice snapping everyone out of their thoughts. They all nodded still a little bit distant and lost. Bruce, not wanting to push his kids, nodded and clapped his hands to gain their full attention. "Tonight we have a slow night as it seems. Everyone has their patrol route, let's hope that we can be already finished by 2. Everyone, dispatch.

It was a relatively slow night. So much so, that it had allowed them to goof around a little as they went on. Midnight had arrived and Damian was crouched next to his father as they overlooked the city. He could hear Jason, Stephanie, and Dick joking around in the back and smiled a little as they laughed. That's when he felt it. The lingering gaze in the shadows. Surely, he looked up to his father who had felt it as well.

His mother.

After years of being separated from her and getting only a handful of visits, he had gotten used to her gaze when she was lingering, watching him. He knew it was her. Damian stood up and turned towards his left and there he saw her. Black, gold, and green armor shining in the night. The sudden silence told him that his siblings were on high alert as well. What could Talia want?

She finally noticed their gaze on her and began running. This alerted every one of them.

"Oracle, send Red Robin and Orphan our coordinates. We encountered Talia Al Ghul and are on the move." Ordered Batman

"Copy that, B." Answered Barbara in their comns.

What did the League of Assassins want now? If they meant no harm, she wouldn't have run, so what happened?

They followed Talia as she led them farther from the city and closer to the harbor. As they went, he noticed that more assassins made themselves visible and surrounded them and that alone raised his suspicions even more. Normally, when his mother wanted to talk to him, she came alone. Why were they here?

Finally, she stopped in front of a boat…the same one where I met my father…WITH Y/N. Damian came to a sudden halt. That is what was missing! He tries to think back on the past few weeks and he couldn't conjure up the slightest memory of seeing his sister. As a matter of fact, he hadn't seen her in the past few months…Where was Y/n? Was that why Pennyworth looked distressed? Why did he just notice now?! Had he been so busy that he couldn't recall his sister? No….that's imposible. She probably has been in practice. She was busy with her own life as well. Especially now, that it was getting closer to the Ice Skating National Competition. He had been keeping tabs on her competition schedules. Yeah, that was probably it. Any time a competition got closer, she would either be locked in their home rink or her practice rink making sure it was perfect. Yeah, that had to be it. She probably left early, was busy in practice, and came during the time he was in the art room or getting ready. Damian wanted to believe that..he really did, but something was nagging at him in the back of his mind. Why would Alfred be sad at that? Had she gotten hurt in practice? Ice skating meant the world for Y/n so that was probably it. Alfred adored watching her skate. Per Damian's request, he would record her practices and competitions so that once he got back from a mission and patrol, he could watch her. She was truly wonderful. That could have been it. She got hurt before Nationals and had been resting in her room lately. That could be why Damian had not seen much of her in the last few weeks. Before that, he had stayed a few months with the Titans, so that could also explain the lack of memories in the past year o so. That was the logical conclusion, right? But if she was hurt, why did Pennyworth not mention anything? He would have to ask him when he arrived later because now he was concerned for his sister's health.

He looked forward and realized that all of them had stopped further. He ran and reached his father's side. Observing his surroundings, he noted that there were 10 or so assassins on both of their sides. Why would his mother need so many?

"Ah, Damian, finally, you are here," Talia spoke up with her back to them. If she was a threat, she wouldn't be giving them her back. Ras taught them better than that.

"What are you here for, Talia?" questioned Bruce.

"Well. Beloved, I have come to extend an invitation, per my daughter's request" She smiled turning around to look at them fully, "I had to lure all of you out here so that we could settle this private matter without the sounds of the city." she explained.

"My sister is resting back in the manor, Mother, what could you mean?" Damian questioned narrowing his eyes at her.

"Is that what you all believe, my dear?" She smirked and watched each of their reactions one by one.

"Where is our daughter, Talia?" Asked Bruce slowly

"You mean to tell me that MY daughter was left under your care and you have no clue where she is?" asked Talia, venom slipping into her words. "Is that what you are letting me know, Batman?"

"Our daughter is safe in the manor" Bruce answered. Damian looked at him and if he wasn't doubtful himself, he probably would have believed him.

"Well, that's not entirely true, beloved. Y/n has not been living in the manor for almost two years now." Talia corrected and everyone froze. "Can't believe you would lie to my face like that"

Jason, Dick, Tim, Stephanie, and Cassandra looked at Bruce expetantly. Surely what Talia said can't be true. They all take a moment to digest the information. Y/n was in the manor, right?

Tim tried to look back but he couldn't think of a moment he had seen her. He lived in the manor as well for fuck's sake. Had he been too busy with Wayne Enterprises and Red Robin that he hadn't noticed his sister's absence? Then again, Y/n was always training so it was difficult to tell….or was it?

Dick and Jason looked at each other. They didn't live in the manor anymore but surely, they had seen her at dinners. Y/n rarely spoke up so she could have been there but they just didn't notice? But as far as they can remember, Y/n loved to talk about her competitions in the hope that they would be able to go to one. They thought she had finally given up on asking them….and that left a bitter taste in their mouths. Why had she all of a sudden gone silent?….or was she just not there at all?

Cassandra had noticed what Damian had said earlier. The Manor had felt different. It seemed as if one presence was lacking but she was constantly with Stephanie so it was rather difficult to keep up on the whereabouts of her life. Besides, Y/n was always training…

Bruce stiffened. Where..was..his..daughter? Since when had she not been living in the manor? When did that happen? He had noticed that Alfred had gone out less and figured Y/n began transporting herself to her things, but that was odd because the old man loved taking her. It was the one moment where Bruce could tell he had peace. Y/n had always been such an independent child from a young age. She didn't need the same training as Damian because she abandoned that life once she was in Gotham. He was truly so glad that she wouldn't follow in his footsteps, that she had chosen to be normal. When was the last time he had seen her come to dinner? When was the last time he heard her songs blasting from her room? When was the last time she used her rink? He would always watch footage of her through Alfred's recordings and the security cameras installed in the ice rink. He still remembers the day he surprised her with it. "I didn't think you'd even know" she whispered thinking he hadn't heard, but he did and those words had plagued his mind ever since then like a broken record. Why wouldn't he know? Sure they were all busy but they cared for her.

"Oracle, search footage of all of the security cameras in the past two years. Find anything and everything about Y/n."

"Right on that, B."

"What invitation does Y/n have for us, mother?" Asked Damian, unsure whether or not he wanted to hear the answer.

"To her coronation as the new Heir to the Demon Head and Future Leader of the League of Assassins, of course" She answered almost instantly.

.

..

…

"WHAT!" yelled Damian. Everyone felt their blood run cold, "My sister, my beloved twin sister, would never NEVER desire that. You must not be serious! Y/n Wayne Al Ghul has never EVER wanted to be like grandfather. She is better than that. She is too good for the Demon Head. I was the one trained to be the heir an-"

"And you weren't the only one trained. Have you forgotten that both of you endured the same training and whilst your grandfather disciplined you, I was disciplining her." interrupted his mother harshly. "Y/n moved back to the League a year and a half ago and has been training endlessly to become the next Leader of the League, Damian. You would have all known that had you chosen to not neglect my daughter. She is safe and well-"

"My sister will NEVER be happy-"

"Because you know her oh so very well, my son?" Talia let her gaze linger on her son. Her disappointment was palpable. He had failed to be there for his twin….

"Nightwing, Red Hood, do one last round on the city, then head to the cave. The rest of you, you are dismissed. Head straight to the came, now. Especially, you, Damian. I have to speak with your mother first." Batman's left no space for argument. They all nodded and left, aside from Damian.

"Father-"

"Go, Robin"

"Father, this is just my problem as it is yours"

"To the cave, now. We will discuss this later."

Damian wasn't happy with the outcome, but one look at his mother and father; and he knew he wouldn't want to be part of this discussion when he had many important matters to attend to.

Once Damian left, Bruce turned to Talia.

"Tal-"

"You neglected my daughter-"

"Our-"

"MY daughter. You spent six years ignoring one child and favoring the other and you THINK you can make demands and look at me as if I have done something wrong? I went to her practices, I went to her competitions, I visited on their birthday every. fucking. Year. Bruce, I may not be the example of motherhood, but at least I was as present as I could be and I didn't even live with her." She hissed at him coldly.

"This is different, she wanted to be a professional ice skater. I know my daughter well enough to remember that. Damian is right. Becoming the Leader of the League of Assassins will never make her happy-"

"Because you know her so well? Bruce, I believe in what Y/n can bring to the League. She has astounding potential as a leader. She is levelheaded and diplomatic, she understands my father's ideal and vision without a vengeful eye. Unless you intend to be supportive…Do not cross her path. I came here to extend the invitation per her request as cordiality, not because I planned to. It will be a week after her birthday. I will not repeat myself. Farewell, Batman"

"Talia" Bruce tried, but she was already gone.

---

Author's note: Well fuck it's gonna be three chapters. I swear, part three will BE THE LAST ONE!!! I SWEAR!!! I HAVE ANOTHER ONE SHOT THAT I WANNA WRITE DAMN

[messenger-of-babel]

The Call

Summary: One little call to each of them. One big consequence. (Batfamily x sibling!reader)

Word Count: 2.9K

Notes: IM LATE AGAIN. I hope you all know that I do stay up wildly late when this happens cause I want to edit before I submit, even if some of these were pre-written (its 1:30AM RAHH). ANWAYS. Batfamily, I tried to get as many as I could but I haven't collected runs for about half the family cause I am biased towards my boys, but I am trying to be as accurate as possible when I can be and that includes those dynamics! So rest assured I am doing my research and hopefully that'll reflect soon. As usual, enjoy your daily feed and I'll enjoy my nap. Warnings just for general description of violence.

Much Love~! xx

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When Dick got the call, he was in his civilian clothes.

Dick Grayson was suit shopping, needing something for an upcoming gala. He had put it off for so long, since he wore the Nightwing suit more than any other in his closet. He had let it ring out once while he got his measurements taken, but when they called back a second time, his lips dipped into a frown. Excusing himself, he clicked the answer call button, stating his name. He hears the voice of Bruce, but in the stern tone of Batman. He doesn’t think that he's ever left a store as fast as he had that day, feet thudding on the pavement and breath cold in his chest as he hurries to his car. He unlocks it and all but throws himself into the passenger seat, lines on his face hardening. Throwing it quickly into drive he pulls out and heads in the direction of the manor.

He tries to keep himself composed, his emotional training kicking in. His fingers are tense on the steering wheel, passing over the bridge at a speed a cop would most certainly pull him over for. Even though he tries to take a deep breath, there's a burning in his sternum. It builds until it creeps into his neck, making him click his tongue uncomfortably.

The sensation is a rage he hadn't felt in a while, a fire that hadn’t burnt that intensely since he was just a boy grieving his parents’ death. It had flickered when he had heard Bruce had adopted a boy called Jason after him, sputtering to life upon hearing about his death. Yet he had grown, he had risen above it and had become a shelter for his younger, extended family. He was dependable, uncrackable, and upbeat, that was Nightwing. Yet as he drives back with that painful fire in his chest, he felt nothing more than Dick Grayson, the boy stricken with fear at the idea of losing his family.

When Jason got the call, he had been on patrol.

Helm securely on his face, it kept the drizzly night rain of Gotham out of his eyes. It had been a rather quiet night, stopping a few minor robberies and assaults that were common down by Dixon Docks. He was eager to return home, wanting to swing by the manor quickly to take full advantage of the hot water system before heading back to his apartment in Old Gotham for a well-deserved rest. He had just finished interrogating some of Penguins' men, about to call the cave to let whoever was on tonight know that they finally had the location of the new drug den they had been chasing the past month. However, the communication device he had set on his bike was lit, screen full of notifications.

Calls, one after another filled the small holographic display and he pressed the button to call back, leg swinging over the side of the bike as he did so. He had only started the bike but already he screeched to a stop, making sure he heard the words properly. A curse and gruffly shouted questions were his only response and when he got the information he wanted, he cut the call and the bike roared to life. He leant forward as if that was going to help him get to his destination quicker, blood boiling underneath his skin. His chest ached with the urge to sputter out pants, desperate to start the sign of panic racing through his veins. Yet he was stronger than that, keeping his cool like a tightly wound coil, muscles tensed beneath the suit.

His mind buzzes with worry, anxiety gnawing at his ribcage like a feral rat.

Jason doesn't often allow himself to be emotional on the job, despite his tendency for rage.

But rage was different. Rage burned and warmed him up from the inside, was the force that he put behind every punch or kick. It was his kindling, and it served to guide him as well as any star. Of course, Bruce had tempered it somewhat, but he had just guided Jason into turning it into something else, not getting rid of entirely. He used rage to protect the people of the city, the outrage he felt when he saw them get treated badly. He used rage when coming to his family's defence, the sight of hands being laid on people he had come to care for sparking it too. Those were the rages he was used to using, although there was always a third.

The pit.

The rage that bubbled away in the back of his mind, hidden behind a tall wall and shoved into the deepest part of him. That was the rage that crept forth, green and poisonous in his veins and clouding his judgement in a fog of pain and despair and anger. When it would appear, he would often take a moment to himself to pack it back away, contain it once more in the bulletproof casing of his heart. Yet right now, he didn't want to put it back. It made him rev the bike harder, made him feel like he was getting there quicker. The bike kicked up water as he zig zagged through the back streets, his mental map of Gotham rerouting anytime the traffic was longer than five cars deep. He couldn't afford to lost time, to not be fast enough. Not now, not this time, and if he had to use the rage the pit cursed him with, he would.

Tim was at the manor, holed up in his room when he got the call.

It had been a long night the night before, tossing restlessly. Not that he would have told anyone, but the last fight with Bane had left him with a few more bruises than he had let on, cleverly hidden from the keen eyes of Alfred. He wanted to nurse them himself, carry his own weight. In fact, he had been sulking in his room going over the things that had been troubling him, knees pulled to his chest.

Dick was capable and dependable, and the first Robin, the biggest shoes to fill. Jason was tenacious but loved deeply, and he fought for what was right. His methods might be unconventional to the Bat sometimes, but he knew what he wanted to fight for. Steph had flown the nest to become Spoiler, Cass already had such a firm grasp of who she wanted to become now that she was Orphan. Barbara had even been able to turn her life around after being put into her wheelchair, her desire to help leading her to become Oracle when she had to hang up Batgirl. Even Damian, the true son of Bruce Wayne, was so confident, growing at a rate he knew Bruce was quietly proud of.

But then there was Tim, who stayed up on weekends trying to redesign his suit, to carve his own vigilante life, only to look on it and see the traces of his time as Robin printed clearly on it. The role of Robin had outgrown him, but there was the shred of doubt that whispered in his ear that just maybe, he hadn't outgrown it. The ringing of his phone snapped him out of his daze, and he let it go to voicemail. When it came again, he grabbed his phone with the desire to turn it off, but seeing the emergency signal had him picking up right away.

"Hello?" he called, sitting right up in bed. His eyes widened and he shelved his pity party, running out of his room.

He winds through the halls of the manor until he finds the door he's looking for. Tim's knuckles rap against the wood loudly, repeating until a disgruntled Damian comes to the door, swinging it open violently. "This better be good, Drake." he deadpans, scanning the flustered state of the older boy. Tim just turns his phone screen, showing the emergency call signal before gesturing to the direction of the grandfather clock with his head. "We've got to go." he says curtly, the young boy hot on his heels after he recovers from his shock.

Both of them head to the cave and prepare to depart immediately. Tim slips the suit over his skin like an outgrown shedding, domino mask sliding onto his face. He couldn’t recognise his own face when he caught sight of it in the glass reflection, but a mask and suit would never be enough to hide the panic that clung to him tighter than the Red Robin suit.

When Bruce got the call, he was at Wayne Enterprises.

He was making a rare appearance at the office, knowing that Lucius had something that he wanted to talk to him about. His office felt foreign and sterile, empty and unreal. The glass surfaces everywhere let him glimpse the face of Bruce Wayne, a face that he was beginning to see less and less. It felt uncanny seeing himself without the cowl, and sometimes when he was working, he could swear he saw a reflection of the bat ears in the window beside him. The night had dragged on, and he was only an hour into the meeting with Lucius when the phone in his suit pocket rang.

He and Lucius shared a sceptical look as he turned the phone screen. The call location wasn't displaying as the Batcave, the only place that could contact this phone directly outside of his children, Lucius and Alfred's personal mobile. Yet he knew Red Hood was taking the brunt of patrol tonight, and Bruce was intended to join him after the meeting. Dick was carrying out some errands downtown and everyone else had either stayed home or didn't contact him like this often. The girls preferred to call his phone as Bruce Wayne or spoke through Alfred, so who could it be?

Lucius gives a nod, silent as he sits down. Bruce's face hardens as he presses the speaker button, accepting the call.

"Who is this?" he says, lowering his voice to the gravelly timbre of Batman.

"Da...B-Batman?" comes a broken, shaky voice on the other end. Lucius's eyes widen and flick to Bruce's immediately, mouth parting. Bruce's jaw ticks, eyes widening as well when he hears your voice.

"This is the Batman. How did you get this number?" He asks, having to focus on keeping his voice low, even though the tone of Bruce threatens to creep back in.

"He-he just had it. I don't know. He just told me to speak, I-I'm not even holding the phone I can't see anything; I’m tied, my eyes are-" you begin to ramble, struggling to get through your words before you're cut off.

"Hello, Batsy." calls a voice close to the receiver, and Bruce swore that his heart fell through the floor in that moment. His fingers tighten around the phone the same way that his lungs are constricting in his chest.

"Joker."

The man on the other end cackles, if Bruce could even call him that. "Miss me?" he snickers, Bruce's mind filling with the image of a red stretched grin. "You see, this is more of a... courtesy call. You know Bruce Wayne, billionaire extraordinaire?"

Bruce's head snaps up to Lucius, who's rubbing at his face nervously.

He didn't know, did he?

"You see, I didn't make a lot of impact going after the commissioner last time, so I had to think to myself, If I wanted to really shake things up in Gotham, who else is there? Then I thought of it, who better than the playboy of the century?" he laughs, punctuated with a sharp snap of his fingers.

"Get to the point." Bruce all but growls.

"Yeah yeah, you always love to rush me, don't you?" The Joker snarks back with fake hurt, before continuing. "Regardless, I have one of his little orphan projects, thinking I might have a bit more success with this one."

He hears a thwack over the phone and a scream, making his nails dig into his palm. He steadies his breathing.

"What have you done?" he asks, low and dangerous.

Another thwack.

"Exactly what I said. But there was a rumour going around that you know Mr. Money, so I thought I'd give you a call, you know, a little gift. If you do know the richest orphan in Gotham, then I want to give you the honour of telling him I've got one of his. Better yet, I want to give you the honour of delivering their body to his doorstep. Maybe that way, you might be able to bond over losing your fake kids."

Bruce feels sick, closing his eyes to try and stop himself from making a mistake right now.

Your life was on the line. He had to play smart.

"Where are you?"

The joker tuts on the other end. "This was a courtesy call, nothing more. I don't want anyone interrupting my playtime. Tata for now~"

"Joker-" he starts but then he's cut off, line going dead. Lucius doesn't say anything, his own personal phone pulled out as he calls Alfred, studying the frozen figure of Bruce. It's almost like there's dark tendrils to the shadows on his broad body, deepening the lines on his face.

Bruce doesn't remember too much, but Batman did.

Immediately he had left the room, suit en route to him and arriving within the minute. As soon as the comfort of his cowl touched his skin, Bruce was gone, and it was Batman calling everyone at the same time. It was Dick who picked up first, a couple of rings earlier than Jason before Tim joined, the sound of Damian in the background. Oracle and Spoiler joined together, while the others were still pending. He didn’t have the time to temper his voice as he relayed the situation, immediately getting as many people on recon as possible.

There were shouts and yelling and cursing before all of their lines became inactive, replaced with trackers signalling that their suits were live. When he enters the batmobile he grips the wheel tensely. The lump in his throat doesn't seem to disappear, only growing larger with each second. His mind is filled with pictures of Jason. Pictures of Barbara. The smiling photos of you.

He might never admit it, but he had your photos front and centre in his wallet (something you did in fact know and used to your advantage frequently in 'dad loves me more' battles). He remembers the first day he ever saw you, cold and scared apart from the other kids in the orphanage. He had been investigating a potential human trafficking ring operating out of the centre, but when he saw you, the fatherly pang hit him. The way your eyes stared forward dully as he greeted children as Bruce Wayne, cameras flashing around him. He had enough wealth to buy the children anything they asked for, the other kids excitedly asking for new toys or clothes or art supplies. However, when he kneeled down in front of you and asked you want you wanted, you said only a few words, 'a family'.

And god be damned if Bruce didn't have money enough for that too.

So, he took you in, hid batman from you like he had tried to with everyone else as well. Yet he failed again, but unlike his children in the past, you never asked to join. Never asked for a suit or to stay up or to train in the cave. Never showed any interest in joining your siblings or throwing yourself in front of danger for the sake of the city. When he asked you why you had simply shrugged, giving him a soft smile.

"All I've ever wanted was to be part of a family. I don't need to be a superhero to be loved."

And then you beamed at him with a smile that could have lit up his world and chased the clouds away from Gotham, so pure and genuinely content. That made Bruce feel like he had finally succeeded as a father, and for once Bruce felt like a father. No Batman, no mask and cape. He didn't train with you; he went out with you to the theatre on weekends. You didn't jump from rooftop to rooftop, you liked to come study with him in his office when he had to take care of Wayne affairs. Batman may have been created to save Gotham city, but he was convinced that you were sent to save Bruce Wayne.

Now, he felt that he had failed you as both Bruce and Batman.

"Hold on sweetheart," he whispers to himself, letting his eyes close for a brief moment during his exhale. "I'll get you home. I promise."

He pressed the accelerator further, Batmobile display signaling that everyone else was suited up and across the city waiting further instruction. He just hoped, he prayed that when he brought you back, it wouldn't be in a body bag.