#batmom angst

[youreobsessedwithtoomanyfandoms]

know its for the better

Words: 2733

Warnings: angst, talks of a miscarriage, body image, talks of difficulty staying pregnant, mention of what is technically a still-birth, depression, suicidal thoughts, self-medicating, accidental suicide attempt, probably poor writing and OOC characters but whatever

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Part 2 for "Love Thorns All Over This Rose"

I decided to make this be longer than just two part, so this'll be a sort of mini-series

I just want to leave another TW here: if you have ever suffered through a miscarriage or any type of child loss, please proceed with caution. I do heavily talk about how Y/N feels after suffering through that and do talk about her feeling like a failure of a woman and other things. I just want everyone to know that if you feel triggered by that, I apologize and I don't want anyone to be upset over what I wrote

I also want to say that I personally have never gone through. What I write in this, is purely based off of what I have read in other fics or stories as well as seen people talk online. I am trying not to offend anyone and if I do in any of the part that I talk about those things; I severely apologize.

Reminder that Alfred is dead in this so that's why he isn't here!

The POV here still isn't really consistent. It jumps between being with the Batkids, Bruce, and Y/N's. I tried to make it flow though so hopefully that works!

Reminder that Bruce and Y/N's ages don't matter (I'm not in the mood to deal with that) but; Dick is 31 (and married to Kori but that's not too important), Jason is 25, Tim is 22, Damian is 15, Cass is 24, and Steph is 23

Also a reminder that I also am not too familiar with Duke, so that is why he isn't there much. Mostly just mentioned

Anywho, enjoy

Love Z <3

All that he knew was that he walked in on his dad doing CPR on his mom.

That was all he knew.

That was all Dick knew.

3 Months Ago

Y/N tightened her grip around her purse, the people were following her too closely. She knew this. The light was still out, she kept reminding her that. Kept telling herself that no one would try to kidnap her in broad daylight.

But oh how wrong she was.

She should have known better. She grew up in Gotham. She should have known better.

----

Now

Three days had passed since everything happened. Bruce had refused to leave the hospital. He wondered if it was from guilt of not being there for her other times. Or if he was just filling in his obligation as a husband. Or maybe...maybe Dick was right and he was just doing all he could to preserve his image.

But none of that mattered. Bruce was staying until she woke up. Because she had to wake up. He had to show her that he still cared. That he still loved her. That he knows...he knows how much of a horrible person he has been to her for the past month.

He had to make sure she knew that he regretted it. Every word he said to her that night.

But every sign scared him. They had already had to resuscitate her since getting here. The tube was stuck down her throat, helping her to breathe. Nurses looking at him with pity, making him feel foolish for holding out hope that she would be okay. With every look that they gave him, there was a sort of emptiness and despair settling into his stomach.

Almost as if he agreed with them.

But he couldn't. He couldn't be agreeing with them. It wouldn't be useless holding out hope that she would be okay.

He ran his thumb over her palm, his eyes glancing up her arm and body until they landed on the raised skin on her collarbone. His hand that wasn't holding hers, come up to run over it. One of the many reminders of what happened 3 months ago.

----

3 Months Ago

Y/N woke up groggily. Her head was pounding and she felt like she had been dropped from a tall building. She blinked, trying to see something, anything, but as her eyes opened, she wished she could go back to seeing nothing.

She was sure that she was in the sewers. The damp and musky smell with the sound of water dripping down the old stone walls and floors around her made her all too aware of where she was. She tried swallowed any saliva, but her mouth was dry. Tears pricked her eyes from pain as she carefully pushed herself up.

Her heart was pounding in her chest as she gingerly touched her stomach. Involuntarily, her own body flinched back from her touch. She felt her air catch in her throat as she felt nothing moving. In the past month or so, her baby had been moving all the time, leading her on to many sleepless nights.

Deep down, she knew. She knew that her baby was dead. And she knew that there was nothing to be done about it.

She jumped back as she heard the sound of shoes pounding against the damp stones. She tried to move away from the only place that someone could come from, but with her hands and legs being tied together, it was harder than expected. She slipped slightly, her side hitting the stone hard.

Three men, with honestly average builds, stalked into the area. She breathed raggedly as she watched them continue towards her. She tried to push away as one grabbed her arm and forcibly pulled her up, a yelp of surprise and pain left her mouth as she was pulled to her feet.

These three men were normal. They weren't some goons or some chemically induced maniacs. They were normal.

And maybe that scared her more.

One of the men, who she assumed was the leader, walked up to her, knife raised. Her eyes darted between him, his associates, and the knife. Any self-defense training that Bruce had taught her, flew out the window as she stood before these men.

"When the situation arises, you'll remember what to do."

That was what Bruce had always told her. But here she was. In the situation and nothing was showing up in her mind as what she was supposed to do.

She leaned back as the guy leaned in but the one with the grip on her arm moved one of his hands to hold her head and make her look at him. She shook as she felt the knife against her collarbone.

A small whimper of pain left her mouth as she felt the knife push deeper, deep enough that it would scar over, before she was pushed back to the ground. The one with the knife gave her a sadistic smile before hoarsely whispering, "We're going to make sure Bruce Wayne finds you dead."

She stared in near terror as she held her hand over where they had sliced and watched as they left just as quickly as they had came.

----

Now

Jason stood in a corner away from Y/N's body. Even with the tube gone, she still didn't wake up. Although she had made some developments...some in the past 8 days that she had been in here and everyone had convinced Bruce to go home and get some proper sleep. So now here Jason was, standing in a room where the woman he had allowed to become his mom was laying still.

But he stayed away from her body.

Something he didn't say often was just how scared he can get. He remembers each time he's been absolutely terrified. When Bruce, well Batman, caught him stealing the wheels to the Batmobile. When he was stuck in that warehouse and Bruce didn't make it in time. When he saw Y/N again for the first time since his "death" and he thought that she would hate him for what he had done. When she was taken. Those words he heard Bruce hurling at Y/N.

And right now.

Jason was keeping his composure, but inside, he was a trembling and terrified child. A kid who just needed to know his mom was going to be alright.

Inside, he knew exactly how Damian was feeling.

But as he stared at her body, his mind couldn't stop drifting, remembering what he had heard that night 4 weeks ago. All he could do was wonder what would have happened if maybe, just maybe, he had gotten angry at Bruce for what he heard.

----

4 Weeks Ago

It was nearly 2 AM when Jason was going to sneak out of the Manor. Technically, it was easy to do, well...it was once he got passed Bruce and Y/N's room. So, he was as silent as he could be as he passed by. But he stopped in his tracks as he heard the voices from behind the cracked door.

Now, Jason wouldn't say he was noisy. But don't all kids stop and listen whenever they hear their parents arguing?

But they weren't arguing. No. He had heard that before. This wasn't it. This was different.

And it scared him.

He stood by the door as Bruce's voice got louder: "--Well I'm sorry that I'm not here anymore Y/N! But can you fucking blame me?"

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Her voice was low, warning him to think before he spoke.

"You didn't pay attention and got taken. You and your inability to pay attention to your surroundings got our baby killed."

She sucked in a breath, "You think I don't blame myself already, Bruce? Do you think that I don't wonder what would have happened if I just hadn't gone out that day?"

"Please, this doesn't affect you. You're perfectly fucking fine."

"Because I have to be!" She nearly screamed, "One of us has to be a parent to everyone else in this home and we both know it won't be you!"

"They aren't even your kids, Y/N, why do you--"

A loud slap echoed and Jason's hand went over his mouth as he continued to listen.

"Those kids are mine. I am the one who helped raise them. I am the one who has made sacrifices for them! You haven't done shit for them, ever." She let out a choked back laugh, "All I did was ask for you to be here with me, to understand what I am feeling and going through. But of course, you don't understand anything."

"I understand that you killed our baby."

"No Bruce. Those men came after me to hurt you. You are the reason I was taken and lost our baby. But sure," Her voice started to break, "Go on. Blame me. I'm used to you doing that anyways.

----

Now

Jason breathed shakily as he grabbed his helmet and stormed out of the room. He knew Dick would be there soon with Damian anyways and he had to get out of there.

--------

Dick watched as Damian laid curled into Y/N's side. Bruce was, miraculously, still sleeping as he and Damian snuck out to the hospital. He didn't do it much for himself as he did it for Damian, he knew that the kid had a sort of...guilt that he could have done something.

Not that Dick could say anything against that. He felt guilty as well.

Y/N was his mom. He was the oldest son. He should have protected her, that was his job. Dick was the protector. He was always supposed to protect everyone. Y/N and even Bruce included. He already had been in this situation before. The immense guilt of failing to protect Y/N.

He remembers what he thought that first time he was here. Remembers the guilt of already failing to keep Alfred alive and not wanting to fail Y/N.

----

3 Months Ago

Dick ran through the sewers, trying to find Y/N. Two days had passed since she had gone missing. All of them had lost sleep trying to find her and now they were searching the sewers for where she could be. He felt like a failure, a bad kid, all because he didn't

He stopped in his tracks as he heard her labored breathing. He turned in the direction that he heard the breathing, his own getting caught in his throat when he saw her laying in the fetal position.

"Mom." He breathed out, rushing to kneel by her side. He gently grabbed her face and looked at her, tears pooling in his eyes. "Mom, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

He failed. Guilt filling with him. Guilt of failing Alfred and now her.

He was a failure and he knew that.

"You-you're not a--"

----

Now

"--A failure."

He stopped and looked at Y/N, his eyes wide. "Mom?"

Her head was turned to the side, a small look of gentle concern on her face. "You're not a failure Dick." She whispered through a hoarse voice, "You didn't fail anyone. Especially not me."

But he shook his head. He did. Not once. But twice. First being after she was taken and now this.

"Dick, stop that. The only person here that failed was me."

He got up and angrily wiped the tears from his eyes, "But I-I just...you never--"

Her hand shakily came up to touch his face, "I'm the one who failed sugar. I should've..."

She stopped, hand leaving his to rub her neck. Out of instinct of all the times waking up from injuries, he grabbed her the bottle of water he had grabbed earlier. Unscrewing the lid, he gently brought it to her lips and she quickly took a gulp of it.

After a moment, she gently held his wrist. "Dick, look at me and believe me when I tell you that it's not your fault. You did nothing wrong." Her grip tighten on his wrist for a moment, "You or your siblings." She glanced over at Damian, her arm wrapped around the kid who was now sleeping. "You all had nothing that you could do." She looked back at him, "Everything that happened, that I did, was nothing to do with you kids. It um...it--"

"Has to do with dad?"

She nodded silently before breathing shakily, "I know Jason heard what Bruce and I said. Ahd I um...I assume that--"

He stopped her, his head shaking. "He didn't tell us anything."

"Oh." She sucked in a breath, "Let's just say, both your father and I say things that we shouldn't have. Not saying they weren't truthful...that deep down we didn't mean each and every word that passed our lips...but you kids aren't to blame."

Dick swallowed hard, "Why did you do it mom?"

Her hand fell from his wrist and she looked away, out to the window. "You don't understand how I felt after everything--"

----

6 Weeks Ago

Y/N silently stared out the window. Her hands mindlessly moving up and down her now flatter stomach. She felt disgusting and like a failure. A failure as a wife and as a mother and...as a woman. She was hurting. Not physically, sure her entire body was in pain, but mentally, she was in much more pain.

Her head snapped as she heard the door open. She saw Bruce standing at the door, an almost uncomfortable look on his face. She shakily looked away, ashamed to even look at him.

She heard his almost scoff, "Y/N, come on. You need to talk about it."

She looked at him slightly before whispering with a strained voice, "So do you."

"Y/N, I didn't...nevermind." She looked away again as he walked further in, "Doctors said that you'll be able to leave soon. By the end of the week at most."

She nodded, "Alright." Her voice nearly numb and void of emotion. She turned her head to him, "You always gonna hate me now?"

Bruce sighed, "I don't...I don't hate you."

"Why not?" Her words started to lace with their own venom, "I lost our baby. Because I'm such a..."

He shook his head, "Don't finish that sentence. You are not a failure baby. It wasn't your fault. None of what happened was your fault. You weren't gonna know that someone was going to come after you.

----

Now

"Y/N?" She felt herself freeze when she heard the voice. She kept her eyes everywhere but at the door. She didn't want to see him. Not here. Not now. "Dick can you--"

"Mom doesn't want to see you."

"Dick you don't--"

"Dick it's okay." She whispered, looking at her oldest. "Take Damian down to the food court, force him to eat some junk."

"Mom--"

"Go." She whispered before he silently nodded and grabbed the younger boy, starting to carry him out of the room. She weakly gripped the blanket, "Why are you here?"

"Can I not visit my wife."

She shook her head, "I am not your wife, Bruce." She looked at him angrily, "You're the one who served the fucking papers."

"And I can't--"

"Bruce, you told me that the only reason you were letting me stay in the manor was for the kids. Was so that Damian didn't have to losing another person." She breathed angrily, "You stopped loving me, not the other way around. You're only here to keep up appearances that you are a loving and devoted husband." She leaned forward in his direction, "But I know exactly what you are."

"And what's that?" He challenged.

"A selfish coward who only cares for himself and his image."

He shook his head, "I'm sorry that I made you think so lowly of me."

Tears burned her eyes, "Get out."

"Y/N--"

"Get out, Bruce. Now."

He stood and started for the door, momentarily stopping to look at her. "I still love you, I know what I did and what I said shows otherwise, but all I ask for is one more chance and I'll prove it to you."

Her lip quivered for a moment before she whispered out, "Tell the nurses I woke up."

[apocalypse-shuffle]

RED HOOD | BATFAMILY (assorted canon)

—

“Long Overdue” (Jason Todd & Batmom!Reader) and (background Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)

| Reader was with Bruce in the past but grew distant after Jason’s death. No one tells her when he comes back from the dead until Bruce is forced to bring her in on a raid when they’re overwhelmed. -Jason and Batmom!Reader reunion.

| SFW, canon typical action/violence, cursing?, crying?

| This is like half fanon half UTRH/Batman:Hush. I’m really just fucking around with canon rn. Also the pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (pic source - Batman: Three Jokers comic)

| 2k+ words

| parts: one, spurt, two, three, four, five, six/six point five, seven.

Ma. God, no one called you that anymore. The way your eyes begin to prickle is a clear indication.

With you Dick wasn’t the type. Once he’d worked himself up to it he’d called you mom; slightly different from the few ways he referred to his bio mother, but something shared between the two of you all the same.

And Tim? Well he wasn’t your child plain and simple. Tim still had his parents for one, and for two he was intrinsically Bruce’s. By the time he’d figured his way into the Batcave you’d been gone, most of your shit moved out of the manor, and desperately waving divorce papers Bruce refused to acknowledge in the air. You didn’t have anything to do with his indoctrination outside of exactly one instance of him finding you to ask if you’d reconsider the separation. Some Batman needed a Robin and Bruce Wayne needed his wife type shit.

Either way Tim didn’t call you any rendition of mom because you weren’t his. The most you got was him addressing you by your maiden name and then eventually your first and you were content with that.

Then if he didn’t call you mom, the girls sure as hell didn’t either. Outside of Barbara the others never even became regular conversation partners. Cass was a rare sighting in your life and Stephanie and you’s relationship would never progress past the casual advocacy you tried giving her because she was another dead Robin to add to what’s now technically a list.

At the end of the day, out of all the people who considered you a mother, only Jason added that ‘a’ and you wanted to grip that name tight and hold it to you. Break your ribs open and force it into your chest cavity. The need to fulfill that ache cuts deep and you take a step forward.

Jason startles though, undoing all his own forward progress, and you falter. That’s right. Jason didn’t like for people to touch him. Definitely didn’t like hugs either. Not surprise ones at least. Before his death you’d gotten close enough he didn’t mind when you swooped in, but now?

“Can I-? Can I hug you?” You press trembling lips together for another horrible swallow. “Please…?”

Jason jerks, two hastily aborted movements at once, before his obstructed voice meets your ears.

“Fine.”

You practically fall on him before pulling him into you. Unfortunately he’s just as stiff as his voice and you have to take a second to figure out how to slot against him.

Jason fits in your arms differently than he used to - broader and taller by a mile - but after a few beats he relaxes into them just the same. The subtle addition of weight makes a sob bubble up your throat.

You rap your knuckles on the side of the helmet.

“Take this shit off.”

He hesitates and a sharp pang manages to worm its way into the already shitty cocktail of emotions you’re feeling. It hits your spine like lightning, forces you up and has you an arms length away in half an inhale.

Maybe before now you’d been going through too much all at once for the trepidation to hit, but it was hitting now. You’d never seen Hood without- well without the Hood. Only Jumbie raised from the dead the way Jason did, and while you’d take your son anyway you could get him you wouldn’t accept some Thing parading around in his skin.

Reading your burst of movement for what it is, Jason backtracks, rising arms dropping to his sides. “Maybe I shouldn’t…”

“Jason Peter-” you inhale deeply, catching yourself, and hold a hand up to stop him. You both ignore the obvious way it trembles. “-only… if…if you want to. I’m not trying to force anything.”

He’s slow to nod, weight shifting from his left to his right leg and back again before he says something too low for you to hear. You’re about to ask him to repeat when he speaks up, this time aiming his voice somewhere around your shoulder while bowing his head.

“No, I- Alright. Just hold on.”

Haunches suitably raised and heart in your throat you pay close attention as the helmet comes up, Jason having released some catch in the back.

It goes over, the helmet clatters to the ground, and the man who stares back at you is…hard to place.

The low fluorescent lighting of the narrow room combined with the concrete walls casts soft enough shadows over his face that while his features are warped they’re not discernible. Which means you can’t completely rule out the uncanniness wafting off of him as just your brain (along with your entire perception of the universe) splinting in half.

It makes your face heat up. He looks familiar, but you can’t say you wouldn’t have passed him straight if you’d seen him on the street. He’s too big for one, even for how you’d all imagined he’d look grown up, standing more than a foot taller than the last day you saw him. Taller than malnourishment would’ve ever let him be.

The sob you let out makes you both flinch.

One hand snaps to your mouth, the other waving him off.

“I’m sorry I- I don’t-. This is just-”

Even with the way he’s leaning away from you he shakes his head. “I get it, it's fine.”

His voice is faint, cut up and hoarse like he hasn’t used it in a while, and it’s the prettiest thing you’ve heard in ages.

“Oh,” you laugh. The wet kind that makes your throat sticky. You can only stare at him, blurry form and all, words lost to you.

Eventually, after watching your fervent effort to wipe away tears that are in no way inclined to give you a break, arms crossed Jason takes a half step forward with a shrug.

“We can…try again?”

The next little laugh you let out you practically choke on but you nod all the same.

When Jason’s the first to move your heart starts speeding away like an overexcited middle school drumline. You roll with it though, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes so they’re dry enough for you to actually see him clearly for a few seconds.

When he’s directly in front of you your hands come up slowly, giving him plenty of opportunity to move away. Or maybe to vanish.

When he does neither, only giving you a guarded look, you allow yourself to touch.

Problem is, the domino mask he’s wearing very quickly gets in your way and on your nerves when you move to frame his face. Quickly feels like if it’s not gone, if you can’t see his eyes, you’ll throw up.

To stop yourself from taking the risk and ripping it off you have to take a deep breath. Have to force down the thick build up of saliva gathering in your mouth so it pushes back the bile climbing up your throat.

“I’d like to see my son, Jason. All of you.”

To emphasize your point you tap the tip of your nail against the mask. There’s no intention on your part to cross his boundary but Jason’s hands snap up to hold onto your wrists all the same.

You look into the white lenses of his domino, fingers buzzing along the corner of the mask closest to them. His mouth twists into a frown.

“Please?”

You beg with the same ferocity a grieving mother once used when begging for her child back.

“You’re asking for a lot.”

He lets go and he takes a couple steps back and you don’t cry.

No, instead you swing your hands behind you. Clasping them together in a poor attempt to stop the buzzing sensation that travels from the tips of your fingers to take over your entire hand.

“Mmm,” you incline your head. “Well. I did help a boy get over first date jitters with a made up song once. Let that same boy talk me through an entire dissertations’ worth of his analysis of Their Eyes Were Watching God - as choppy as it was - because TWMS wouldn’t allow him to present it in class. Let him skip going to that same school and cry to me for hours after the death of Gloria Stanson. Remember a knife hidden in the corner on the highest shelf in his closet, and I remember not revealing any of that when I gave his eulogy because he once asked me to keep the important things between the two of us. So you don’t have to show me, but I think I make a pretty good qualifier when it comes to keeping this safe.”

You point straight to where his heart is tucked safely behind layers of gray armor before shrugging.

From the way his brows furrow over the domino you know he’s at least thinking about it so you step away to pick up your disregarded mask and stuff it in your waistband.

One blink. Six.

“You remember Rena?”

In front of him again, you rock back on your heels. “Mhm. And the ‘how to tie a tie’ lessons me and Bruce walked you through even though you didn’t wear a suit to that date. Remember that too.”

Jason’s smile is crooked on his face but it’s nonetheless present as he makes a noise of agreement.

“I’d just wanted to spend time with you two, I was never planning on wearing a suit to go to the skating rink.”

“We figured.”

You’re rolling onto the balls of your feet when that small smile drops and he shakes his head.

“I’m not that same boy anymore.”

You take in the way he could raise his hand and so easily touch the ceiling without having to jump. You clear the phlegm from your throat.

“I can tell.”

Jason grunts and makes a general gesture indicating something somewhere behind you.

“And I got no interest in trying to live up to whatever fucked up embalment Bruce’s got going on with my burnt suit in that case.”

That suit. Bruce’s memorial. His warning. Your breath hitches as you think of the smell of crisped blood and methanol. If Jason didn’t want to talk about it you sure as shit weren’t going to.

“I will one hundred percent take that into account.” You keep it simple, rocking on your heels again. He wasn’t asking for anything unreasonable so there wasn’t really any debate to be had. “You wanna be treated as you are? I can do that.”

Moments pass once you’ve said your peace where Jason does nothing but stare at you. The only indication he’s at all alive being his shoulders still moving - and you are watching. Eyeing that tell tale up and down like your own life will end at its falter. The pattern is slow enough to come off as pacivity but the time between each rise and fall is too measured to be uncontrolled. Exactly three point eleven seconds one way and three point eleven seconds the other. Every time.

Then he sighs, curses, and the little veil of dissolvent for the adhesive that adheres the mask to his face is in his hand. A different vial and color than when he was Robin; you don’t know why you thought it’d be the same. Or why it makes your heart clench that it’s not.

Between one thrum of the fluorescent lights and the next Jason is peeling away the domino, and you would be lying if you claimed to know where it disappeared to after that. Too caught up on what he’d been hiding to track it.

Blue. Nothing more and nothing less. Just blessedly familiar, vibrant blue. Not the dull gray they’d become by the time you were given the chance to put a gruesome sight of a child six feet under.

The “Oh wow,” tumbles from you without permission and then there’s zero hope for the waterworks you’d been holding back. The levee fails and you’re bawling before you know it. Barely holding back snot and who knows what else since you already feel like screaming.

At that point there’s no carefully thought out sentence for you to spew, no more hesitancy, no more measured breathing, and linear thought. Just the crushing need to have him close to you again.

You’re rushing forward before you know.

Wrapping your arms around Jason the next go around is both the best and the worst thing. You accommodate his new size faster, already writing over the ways he used to fit against you with the ways he does so now, but he’s still so stiff and he’s not reciprocating the hug either.

Maybe you should let go. You crossed the boundary too fast. Were too reckless. You literally have training on this and now you’re crowding him.

Okay, you’re pulling away. It’s a herculean effort but you’re forcing your arms from around his middle. You’ve got to, you don’t want to scare him off. Not when you just got him back.

There’s a soft “Not yet,” mumbled into your shoulder and then arms finally come around yours and you don’t hesitate to snap your own back into place.

He’s hugging you back.

You cry a little harder and bring one of your arms up to drape across his shoulders, pulling him closer. When you start rocking and Jason copies your momentum you press a kiss onto his temple.

“Hi,” you stutter out. Another sob. “Hi baby.”

Since he’s finally letting his arms wrap around you you don’t hesitate to run dark fingers through the truly unruly mass of black curls on his head. His hairs’ damp - most likely from sweat - but cool. Probably being tempered by the cold air blowing into the room.

It’s when you press a kiss to his forehead that you feel something else wet and your breath stutters.

“It’s okay. I got you, everything’s okay,” you whisper.

“God Ma-” his voice cracks and then you can hear the sobs he’s trying to muffle into your suit. “No it’s not.”

“I know,” you sob. “I’m sorry- so so fucking sorry.”

You sniffle and pull away to see him better. Jason’s face is flushed, his eyes wet, and cheeks streaked with tears shed. You hold your hands up to frame his face for a second time and run your thumbs through the tear tracks. His chest heaves as his body tries to regulate his breathing.

Jason clears his throat, gaze boring into yours. “Hi,” he says.

You smile, finally beginning to map out his face. First you move to frame his cheeks, too feel the warmth in them. To see if they still feel familiar. They don’t; you force yourself to accept that fact without letting it show in your expression, letting out a measured exhale before continuing. You find his jaw is more defined now too, cheeks devoid of the baby fat of five years prior.

From then on brushing your thumbs along his brows, over the bridge of his nose, traveling over his ears and skirting around his hairline - it all fills your mind with incoherent cheers.

Your thumbs hover over Jason’s eyes and you hum when he closes them for you.

The skin underneath your shaved off pads is soft. The thin layer of protection allows you to feel how his eyeballs shift, to see the way his veins show stark under light skin, to clock the life thrumming through him.

It makes your heart feel so goddamn light. You can’t stop smiling at the sight of him. Eyes still wet but clear.

“I feel like such a horrible mother,” you hiccup, hands slide down so you can once again cup his face. “I barely recognize you.”

Jason’s breathing shakes nearly in tandem with yours and his eyes squeeze tighter shut, head turning away.

“Don’t.” He takes a second to look up. Look right through you. Lashes wet and glassy eyes open, voice grating over his next words. “Don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault. I don’t blame any of you for that, but especially not you.”

What you want to do is argue. You should’ve never let him put on that suit in the first place, one fucked up son should’ve been the end of it. You should’ve dropped the case you were working the second you’d heard he’d run away and you should’ve found him. Instead you keep your thoughts personal, pinning them to your brain as if it’s a cushion so that you’ll never forget, and pull your son closer. An action which he allows, resting his head on your shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re back,” you whisper into his hair. The way he instantly shakes his head makes the cool strands tickle your jawline.

“You can’t mean that.”

“If I didn’t mean it I wouldn’t have said it, Jay.”

Jason tenses before responding, words spewing without warning.

“Yeah except I’ve killed people, and I don’t regret it, and Bruce hates that - and you probably do too - but his way isn’t good enough. The people in this city deserve better so I’m doing what’s necessary-”

And that has you bristling. He must notice too because he stops short and edges away, face steeping. Caught somewhere between wanting to leave and wanting to fully kick start an argument.

…TBC

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed! I had to split this bitch in two cause it was 5,000+ words and I’m not in the business of under-indulging myself.

Listen, I’ve looked into it. Every mother/mother figure Jason’s ever had he’s referred to as “Mom”, but me personally, I didn’t grow up addressing my own mother that way so I wanted to play around with “Ma” (differentiate a little). What's funny though, is that I’ve read Dick referring to his mother as both “Ma” and “Mom” so that’s fun.

• TWMS = Thomas Wayne Middle School

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.

Tagged: @aarinisreading, @niphredil-14, @mxtokko, @calsjack, @brunnetteiwik

[silly-thinkings]

The cursed stone Fin!

OMG i finished this STORYYYYYYY. I got let go from work today and thought to myself "Maybe now is a great time to finish this thing" I hope you enjoy this story as it was a fun to write. I now feel more comfortable with posting all these OTHER STORIES that i've been writing in my notes. I did not edit this so forgive my mistakes.

Pt.7

Tired, but smiling. When you walked into the jazzy establishment all the workers greeted you with a smile. Most of them knew of your plan of escape. Of course they did, they too wanted out of this life. For their safety you never shared any information, however they trusted you. You entered a room with your boss on the other side. Many bodyguards litter the room, some laughing while others on high alert.

“Ahh there's the star of the show.” Maxwell greeted you with open arms. For the first time in a long time you did not return the favor “One of your boys raided my home, beat up my son, and accused me of giving you up. What the hell is that about hmm?”

The room goes quiet, but your guard does not waver. Maxwell’s smile turned into a deep frown. “Who did this?”

You look to your right to see the man to blame. He wore the same black suit the other guards wore. Except he had a red rose on his chest pocket. The man looked angry over the phone. “Eddy sir.”

At the sound of his name he froze. Adjusted his suite and tie. Then turned around. “I've been called.” His smile disgusted you as he approached your area

Maxwell raised his hand dismissing everyone in the room. Once it was just the three of you alone he whispered something in Eddys ear.

The man's smile grew, as if he was finally receiving his just deserts.

“Y/n you've been good to me. So i'll cut to the chase. Your son has been a very naughty boy. He was the rat. HE is the reason why I need to rush my plans and YOU will decide his fate.”

You felt your heart sank. All that work, all that effort of keeping Jamie safe was for what. “Sir i can assure you that-”

“A- a- a-” The boss pulls a gun from his inner pocket calmly. “I am asking for you to choose how this is going to go.”

You felt your body shake as now there's a gun to your chest. The man steps closer gently placing the weapon on your skin “I really liked you as my right hand Y/n. So I hope you make the wise choice.”

Eddie reuters with a phone, he hands it to you. You try to stay calm but your hands are visibly shaken. “H-hello”

“Mom… Im sorry.” Jamies voice was on the other end. Not again, if anything this was even worse than before. “Max. whats this about.”

Maxwell stepped back from you loading the gun “Three men y/n. Three! Of my men were murdered by your son. So, what are you going to do about it?”

“Mom. Im sorry. I just want you out of this mess. I want us free… I dont want to die again.”

Again? You shook your head. No time for that. You took a deep breath “Listen baby. I love you. Follow the plan.”

“W-what?” Jamies voice was frantic over the phone but you hung up before he can incriminate himself further.

You took a deep breath “Alright Max. Since my son was the one that did it. I will be in the black box for as long as you wish.”

Eddies jaw dropped. He was hoping for a more hysterical pleading but not this. “B-boss no way. We have to keep these two. We have to.”

Bang!

You flinched as the gun shot rang in your ear. Eddie held onto his thigh as he howled in pain. “You! I should have you killed for this. You're the reason why I have to get rid of my best employee.” Maxwell kneeled down to the screaming man “You will never be as efficient as Y/N L/N”

On the inside you felt such terrors but the lives of others, your plan with Batman and the GCPD cannot be compromised. Tonight is the night where all of the people who've suffered under this tyrant get their freedom. Max loaded the gun “Move.” His faux friendly demeanor now gone as he escorted you out the room.

The two of you walked deeper and deeper underground. Many of the personnel watched as you had a gun to the back of your head, as if it were some twisted parade. The band members began arguing with some of the security, you heard their cries and the next thing chaos. Another gunshot rang out. A warning shot. “I don't want to hear anymore complaining! Witness what happens when you cross me.” You look towards your friends and softly shake your head. Please, the plan is still in motion. You'll all be safe.

You continued to walk now with your hands up in surrender “Max please. They know nothing. You don’t want to lose any more money.”

He chucked. Amused that you’re still caring about his assets. At the press of a warm weapon on your shoulder, you move into a room accepting that you won't make it out.

Meanwhile

Jim Gorden strategize and reviewed the plan on how to successfully infiltrate the establishment. Many many cops were armed and ready.

Batman sped down the streets with Damian beside him. He held onto the stone tightly, this was his last chance to save the family. “Hey B. I'm getting some strange signals on our communications. I think we’re being hacked? No way.” Tim spoke through the speaker phone. A soft static can be heard through the airwaves. “Pick- me- up… Jay-”

Damian snapped to attention. “Red robin. Enhance that signal.”

Tim groaned “Why should i”

“Just Do it! We have no time.”

Tim locked in on the signal finding the location “Its that kid again. The blond one.”

Damian looked to his father “Pick him up. Please.”

Bruce shifted gears and drove towards the red dot. Damian let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. When they reach the destination Jamie didn't have time to geek out over the batmobile. He was thrown in and sped out.

You felt pain shoot up your leg. You fell to the floor with a thud quickly applying pressure to your new wound. “Put her on the chair.” The two guards from earlier recovered quickly. Each of them grabbed your arm and pulled you up. Your attempts to struggle were in vain as blood trailed on the floor. The guards securely bound your arms and legs on the limbs of the chair then moved away. You sent a glare at the gun welder “What the hell max” you say through gritted teeth.

The crime boss laughed “don’t play coy with me missy. You know what happenes in here. I need you to learn.” Max nodded his head at the men. The guard happily punched you in the face. You didn't cry out, nor did you scream. “Ohh” max placed a finger under your chin, forcing you to look him in the eye “you took that well.” You smiled “what kind of girl do you take me for? I wouldn’t be where I am if I couldn’t handle something as petty as this.” Another punch to the face made you dizzy “you know I HATE meaningless death? My men were killed yesterday. And now Batman is probably on his way over!” He grabbed your hair “I know you’ve been protecting the lives that serve me. The band, those women that sing with you. That boy.” He leaned in close “let me ask this again, for the record. Answer honestly.” You felt his breath on your ear “Are you responsible for Batman raiding my property?” You chuckled before you slammed your head onto his as hard as you could. Maxwell tumbled back and held his nose. “Yes~”

“Where is Y/N?” Robin asked Jamie who was handcuffing another person. Jamie looked around “I dont know. The last time we spoke was over the phone.” Robin hummed. He then placed a hand on his head as it began to throb“TT!” Jamie walked to the crime fighter “Hey? You good?” “My memories you idiot” Robin’s grip on the pouch that contained his piece of the stone tightened “we must find her. Did you bring the stone?”

“Yea.” To Damians surprise Jason called him through the earpiece “hey, I caught the main man. He was trying to escape on a boat.” “How is this relevant to Red Hood?” “He said Y/N’s downstairs. In the cold room.” Damian’s face scrunched together. “The cold room?” Jamie’s eyes widened “No… no no no no” The blond bolted through the crowd. “Hey! Wait!” Robin caught up with him and asked," What is the cold room.” Jamie Looked at him with panicked eyes “That's where they go to interrogate people. But those who go in never come out.” The two just kept running down some stairs and deeper into tunnels. Jamie finally reached the door. He slammed his body against it, desperately trying to open the door “C’mon you stupid- . Why won’t THIS DOOR OPEN.” “Move over” Damian pulled out two lock pick pins and pushed him aside. He had to hurry. This is the last chance they had to get their lives back. It was up to him, and only him. Jamie heard the lock click. He stood by the door frozen, unable to go through with opening the door. This was his fault surely, she protected him yet again. Damian frantically opened the door and his worst horrors laid before him. “UMMI!” Damian rushed to her side “Ummi! Mother please. Open your eyes.” you groaned. Music to his ears. Jamie shuffled his feet next to them. His legs couldn’t hold him anymore as he fell to his knees “Mom.” Jamie could barely whisper with how his lips quivered. You smiled “my boys.” “ TT’ How could you smile at a time like this! I need to treat your wounds.” Even though he tried to sound stern, the boy's voice shook. Her whole body littered with deep gashes and bruises. Blood began to pool from her leg, and her eyes were beginning to close for longer periods of time. Damian pulled out the broken stone and placed it in her hand “mother. Forgive me. I’m so sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean any of it. This wasn’t supposed to happen.” Jamie allowed himself to cry “im sorry ma. It should have been me. It was supposed to be me!” You gathered all the strength that you could to weakly place a hand on Jamie’s head, whilst the other found its way to Damians cheek dropping the stones in the process. “I remember. Dick, Jason, Timothy, Jamie, Damian.” Your hands found its way to each child. Interlocking your fingers with theirs “I know you didn’t mean what you said Damian.” More tears streamed down his face “why! Why isn’t it working.” Jamie’s head rose slowly “forgiveness… I don’t think… She’s the one that needs to forgive.” You smile. Your vision begins to cloud. You're dying and you knew it. Jamie looked at Damian “I’m sorry. For thinking that you and the rest were out to kill us. I’m sorry for what I said.” Damian nodded “I am also sorry for. How do you put it… “jumping the gun”

Unbeknownst to them You felt a tear slowly fall down your cheek as you took your last breath.

“Damian, you need to forgive yourself for the words you said. Truly” Jamie nodded towards the stone that was faintly glowing.

“Where’s your stone? We need to give it to Ummi” Damian reached for his and placed it in your hand. It was only then where he noticed your body limp. Jamie noticed your head fall to the side. Your chest wasn’t rising and falling. “Wait…” “MOTHER!” Batman finally arrived at the scene only to find Robin and Jamie crying out in agony. Bruce let out a shaky breath himself, he was too late to save her. He wasn’t fast enough. “MOTHER PLEASE. I'M SORRY!” Damian didn’t mean t loose his cool during a mission. Surely this was out of character for him. But the pain. From the headaches to the tightening of his chest he held onto the hand of his adoptive mother. Bruce had never seen let alone heard this side of Damian. Jamie’s cries died down however The poor boy firmly gripped onto her hand while he rested his head into her chest. “It should've been me.” Jamie whispered. Damian’s head rose. Sniffles can be heard as he picked up both of the peace’s of the stone. “Ummi. I’m so sorry.” Bruce heard footsteps in the distance. “Police are coming. We need to-“ His words were taken from him from the overwhelming sight in front of his. Unbeknownst to the boys, a glowing yellow light enveloped all three bodies. “Robin! Jamie, get out!” Bruce attempted to grab both of them but the light soon engulfed everything.

All they heard was an angry shout. ~~ Damian blinked. He looked around to find himself in the cave. Holding the stone. “You’re right.” Damian’s head immediately snapped upwards. He couldn’t believe it. “I am not your mother. But-“ “UMMI!!!” Damian placed the stone back and ran straight into your arms. “I’m so sorry. I won’t be going on patrol. I’ll listen to what you say. Please forgive me.” You looked down at him confused. “W-what?” Just then you felt an immense weight all around you. All four of your boys tackled you to the ground. “Ma! You’re back.” Jason was the first to speak. “We missed you so much. No, no we love you so very much.” Tim exclaimed as he squeezed in-between Dick and Damian. “Ma, you have got to sing for us. Or maybe give us some fighting tips yourself hmmm~” Dick added to which it confused you greatly. “What’s going on? Why are you all… I mean, I love this but where is it coming from.” Suddenly all of them began speaking at once. Time travel, alternate reality, Damian being the cause. It was so overwhelming. “Wait wait wait.” The sound of the batmobile couldn't even shake the children off you. “Bruce, get your children.” you say as you truly try to get up. But you are simply not strong enough.

Bruce stepped out of the car confused. He removed his cowl “What did I miss?”

Jason finally had his fill and rose from the pile. Just for fun he lifted Tim up with ease. “Hey.”

Jason walked towards Bruce and placed a hand on his shoulder “Thanks B.” As much as he wants to stay behind and spend time with you, he has a reputation to uphold. Jason got on his motorcycle and left the cave. Maybe, just maybe Jamie could be out there like he was.

Bruce returned to the rest of his family. Dick helped his surprised wife “I didn't think Damian would take the news like this.” he reached out to you only for you to stop him “Ew no, shower first then we talk.”

Bruce rolled his eyes. He watched you and the boys head upstairs riddling you with questions of how the two of you met, who was your former employer, etc. He looked upon the desk to see that yellow stone from their earlier mission. Bruce went to it and looked at the cracks that weren't there before.

“Ill ask later.” *AN: I normally don't do taglist but i do remember some of the usernames that asked when the next chapter will be. I hope i got all of you guys. Thank you again for your patience :) @lafrone @freyathehuntress @tn-2358 @littlepadfootmoony @billyg4en

[i-yap]

Jason todd x reader - clingy thoughts

(guys i have no motivation to start writing most days so like whenever I get comments or requests in my inbox I get rlly excited and actually feel like writing)

if jason could, he would melt his skin so it could stick to yours . He is so touch starved but more than that he is just ...starved. like he hasn't ever had anything properly good in his life. and then you're just there and he doesn't think something better could exist

he wants to look at you, he stares a lot. even when he is cuddling you, he's looking at your hands, your hair, whatever he can see in the position

he likes casual intimacy more than fancy intimacy. like linking pinkies when walking, resting your head on his shoulder on the bus, your legs being pressed against each other when you're sitting on a rooftop. something you'd do without thinking but he is constantly thinking about it.

he isn't the lift and spin sort of guy ( like after a mission or something) he is a holds you and falls to the ground from the pain of being separated from you for too long. he is the don't to dare pull away, tears in his eyes, body shaking sort of guy.

he hates being away from you, even across the table is too far. wants to sit next to you or hold your hand if you're sitting across. make sure the table isn't too big. the distance hurts him, its like he has an internal radar that if you cross , his head goes red .

give him any sign that you are just as clingy or even that you don't hate his guts and he will just freeze. he doesn't know how to reciprocate touch, feelings, words, everything but he really really wants to. so just because he stiffens up when you hug him doesn't mean he is gonna let you leave the hug .

his sweetest words come out at like 4am , when you're in the bathtub, sitting on a roof, eating snacks on the floor of your room or lying in bed . you cant be facing him cause he will forget whaT he wanted to say once he sees your face. he is super tired from crime fighting or after s'x or after a nightmare. don't make a big deal out of it cause he wont take it well and will get embarrassed.

he is just so protective, you rlly cant blame him.

[m3ntally-unstable]

Why is it that everytime I search for a certain thing I GET THE OPPOSITE. I SEARCHED FOR ANGST NOT SMUT, I WANT ANGST. I AKSED FOR SMUT NOT FUCKING FLUFF AND SHIT 😡😡😡😡 please update your system tumblr I beg of you

[mischieveousmayhem]

Ummi, come back

Pairing: Damian Wayne x Batmom! Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Mention of death

Synopsis: All he wants is his mom, without her he is falling apart.

a/n: pretty short, my requests are open.

THE MASTERLIST

—

Damian Wayne, a tough kid.

He gets it from his father of course.

But lately he feels like he hasn't been so tough. Which is okay right? Even the toughest people have weaknesses. But this felt worse then any weakness.

It's been a week since he saw the suffering of his dearest mother. He just needed some of her soothing words, or to break down in her warm, comforting embrace. Although if she was here, he wouldn't need that. If she was here, they would probably be on the couch watching some of her favorite movies, or baking cookies with his fellow brothers.

Y/N wasn't his real mom though. Talia was.

But that didn't matter to you or him. That reason being because you treated him better than Talia ever would.

Even though he didn't like you at first, he learned to love you. You had the sweetest heart ever and you cared for him and his fellow brothers like they were your own kids. Scratch that. They were your real kids even if it wasn't biologically. Blood wasn't what made them your children, it was the memories and love.

Secretly Damian was a mama's boy and whenever you two were alone he would show that. Without his mother he is so lost. Of course he has his father, Bruce. But nothing can replace a mother's tender, delicate love.

So alone he sat, in the garden, watching the sunset. In his hands was a picture of your family. You, Bruce, and the boys. The photo was taken at the first dinner after you and Bruce got married. It was so chaotic, but none of you would have changed it for the world because it was one of the families happiest moments. But lately there has been no happiness. You were their ray of sunshine, you gave the boys everything they could ask for to make them happy.

The sunset, the thing that reminds him of his mother. It was beautiful, just like you. But the thing that really made him get reminded of you was the fact you used to sit on this bench together and watch the sunset.

His eyes are red and puffy. Not to mention he is still crying while watching it, missing you so much.

"Oh Ummi," He spoke, "Come back."

[teddypines]

Fight

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sumary: Dick and Batmom!reader got into a fight which upset both of them in the end.

Dick x Batmom!reader, Fem!reader (Use of she/her pronounce)

Note: Dick might be a bit out of character in this. Art/picture is from Pintrest, credits go to whoever made it.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

“Get back here, Richard!” Y/N yelled as Dick stormed off towards his room. The two of them had been in a fight. Dick had gotten really hurt on a patrol, but refused to seek medical attention. This, of course, upsetting Y/N. Hating to see one of her birds hurt like this. Yes, Dick was the oldest. yes he was old enough to deal with things on his own, but not with injuries like this. "Richard! Don’t you dare walk away right now!” Y/N yelled after Dick as she walked up the stairs. 

Dick ignored Y/N as he continued to struggle with walking towards his room. “Richard Grayson!!” Y/N yelled out one last time before Dick turned around to face Y/N. “Stop it! i am fine! I don't need you to baby me!” Dick hissed at Y/N. He was tired and just wanted to go to bed, but no Y/N needed to be a worried mother hen. “Just let me sleep! I do not need to be patched up!”

“Dick have you looked into a mirror? You look like hell, you need medical attention. Those wounds will get infected.” Y/N answered while trying to reach out for Dick. “I don’t need that, now stop being so annoying and let me be”

“Dickie, come on, please you really need to clean those. I am your mother, let me help you” Y/N Said, her anger slowly fading more and more as she looked at the beaten up boy. Something snapped in Dick’s tired mind and he got furious. “You are not my mother! Stop acting like you are!” Dick didn’t realize what he had said, because he turned around too fast to see the upset look on Y/N’s face. “I… I’m sorry Dick, i’ll let you be.” She said before Dick slammed his bedroom door shut. 

Y/N turned around and slowly walked towards the master bedroom, tears rolling down her face as she crawled into bed. After a while Bruce joined her in bed and wrapped his arms around her. “What’s wrong, love? Did something happen with Dick?” Bruce asked, but he didn’t get an answer. not until the next morning. Bruce understood Y/N didn’t want to talk about it just yet and just held her even closer to him.

<----------------------------------------------------------------------->

The next morning Y/N did come down for breakfast, but she was rather quiet. Not like her usual self, not telling Damian to not mess with his brothers or telling Jason to put his book down. Everyone noticed but Dick. He was still upset, but he did feel bad. Once he shut his door last night he realized what he had said and that broke him more than the wounds he had. Breakfast was quiet but not awkward. 

After breakfast Y/N just got ready for work and waved Damian and Tim goodbye as they went to school. She kissed Bruce’s cheek when he went to work. Dick looked on as Y/N did her normal routine, only feeling left out since they didn’t give him his hug.

“Mom?” Dick called out to Y/N, but she didn’t answer, too busy getting her bag ready. Dick carefully tapped Y/N’s shoulder which made her stop packing her bag. “Yes?” She answered a bit on the dry side. “Mom… I…” Dick started but he couldn’t find the right words. “It’s okay, Dick, you don’t have to call me mom if you don’t want to.” Y/N said, upsetting them both in the process. She gave Dick a sad smile before leaving for work. 

Dick sighs and gets ready for uni. “What was that?!” Jason asked shocked as he looked at Dick from the living room. He had a day off so he was going to do nothing all day, maybe bother Alfred a bit. “Nothing.” Dick answered his brother. “That was most definitely not nothing!” Jason gasped. “Oh my god, you and mom had a fight!”

“We did not have a fight,” Dick said as he shoved one of his books into his bag. “I just said something I regret…” Jason narrowed his eyes and glared at Dick. “What did you say?”

Dick groaned a bit when he stretched his arm the wrong way when grabbing another book to put in his bag. “I might have said that she wasn't my mom so she should stop acting like it” This made Jason gasp. “Yeah, I know, I screwed up...”

<---------------------------------------------------------------------->

A few days go by in which both Dick and Y/N are upset over what happened, everyone saw it. Dick did get some medical attention for his wounds but the sad smile Y/N wore that week hurt more than anything else. Dick sighed and started to make his way around the manor in search of Y/N. He eventually found her in the Batcave looking over some files and homework Damian did. He carefully sat down next to her at the Batcomputer. “Mom?” He said, which made Y/N turn her head towards Dick. “I’m sorry mom. I never meant to yell at you or say you’re not my mother. Because I do love you as my mom even with my own mom being, well not here… I was just so tired and patrol didn’t go well, and uni wasn’t great that day and… and.. I just don’t know anymore. But I don’t want you to be upset… That hurts…” Dick said through his tears.

Dick was surprised when he felt two arms around him. Y/N held Dick close to her. “I forgive you, sweetie, but please don’t ever say it again. It really hurts, when all I wanted to do was make sure you were taken care of. Maybe I shouldn't have yelled, though.” Y/N said as she slowly leaned back and started to whip Dick’s tears away with her thumb. She carefully leaned over and kissed Dick’s forehead. “I love you, Bluebird.”

“I love you too, ma”

[kurogxrix]

Under Wraps

Bruce Wayne x Wife!reader

IN WHICH Bruce and you deal with the aftermath of your kidnapping.

WC: 1.8k

warnings: ANGST, mentions of kidnapping, injuries, PTSD, soft!Bruce.

A/N: Ive l’ost all motivation in writing as of recently and had to FORCE myself to write this for a whole ass month😭 so it’s really nothing great.

The tense silence that lingered between you two was suffocating, albeit all windows in the room being wide open. You just couldn’t get yourself to speak, and Bruce just didn’t know what to say. He never does, but you love him either way. it’s funny to see the cocky billionaire flaunt all of his riches out to the world while he softens for you.

You sat upon the edge of your shared bed with your head in your hands, unable to make out whatever you husband was fumbling with behind you. The feeling of being in the opposite man’s grasp was so fresh to you, like a new scar that your brain harboured. Not only mentally, but the haunting mark across your wrists and neck were yet another temporary reminder of what had happened to you that night.

Oftentimes throughout the night you found yourself being ashamed for a reason or the other. Your husband’s been through worse, so have your sons, and yet your brain couldn’t help but replay the disturbing images of the moment you’d lost Bruce at the gala. You sighed in the comfort of your hands, forcing your eyelids shut impossibly further than they already were to try and shoo the nightmares away. 

Your clothes laid messily somewhere across the floor, a bloody and muddy mess that Bruce had quickly drawn off of you before ushering you into a warm shower. He’d then dressed you in a silky robe, and that was the end of it before you’d end up on the edge of the bed, alone with your thoughts despite your husband being in the same room as you.

Your ears fell deaf to the sound of constant rustling of cloth, so much that you failed to hear him crouch before you as he settled comfortably on his knees. 

Rough hands gently pried at your own, pulling them away from their protective stance around your face. The sudden lack of covering made you scrunch your nose in dismay, but a quick look from those hazel eyes before you had you relaxing. Bruce made a quick work out of the situation, silent as ever as his hands came to undo the knot around your robe that he himself had previously tied. 

You didn’t complain as his hands pushed at your robe, revealing the naked torso that Bruce had seen so many times before. The soft sigh that escaped your husband didn’t go deaf to your ears, and you closed your eyes once more as you awaited for the tingly feeling of his fingers. Seconds passed in sterile silence before you finally felt the scarred skin upon your own, except instead of balm covered fingers, you were met with his warm, bare ones. 

You opened your eyes to the sight of your dishevelled husband staring down at your bruised torso, the balms and bandages that were once in his left hand now abandoned beside you on the bed. His right hand held onto your side like an anchor, wide thumb pressing against your stomach. Bruce kneeling between your open legs was a sight that you’d never get tired of, but this time you could only pray for it to end. 

Hazel iris traced the dark spots littering your torso with a shame that was beyond their ability. Tiny hairs across his hairline stuck to his forehead due to cold sweat, and you brought a hand down to smooth them behind, little to no care for the tacky fluid rubbing onto your hand. Slowly by slowly, you began caressing your way down his face, smoothing out the wrinkles accumulating on his face before stopping on the edge of his jaw. 

The feeling of your fingers, alive and warm upon his freshly shaven jaw caused his fingers to involuntary clench on your side. The painful hiss that escaped your mouth was enough to snap your husband out of his stance, fingers almost immediately unclenching from their grip. 

Masochistic as it was, you were somewhat glad for the pain. It reminded you that you were alive and well, there in the mansion with your husband. It also managed to get those brown eyes that you loved so much to snap upwards towards you. They held so many feelings in there that you believed you could not be able to tend to them all in one night.

“I’m sorry,” it left his lips faster than your brain could comprehend, and you were left dumbfounded yourself at those two little words. Meaningless in most relationships, those words were nothing that you’d ever hear coming on of the one and only Bruce Wayne’s lips. He was cocky, always flaunting his riches to those who seeked. 

“It’s okay, it only hurt for a second.” you lied, because the throbbing pain still coursing through your right side threatened to sell you out. You could tell that Bruce wasn’t buying it, so much for being Gotham’s greatest detective. Nevertheless, your hand resumed its delicate caressing upon his cheek, a ruse to take his mind away from the little slip up. 

You could practically see the gears turning inside his head, trying to decipher why in hell you would be lying to him about this out of everything. Yet again he’d worried far too much over you in one night, you wouldn’t let his mind collapse over something so minor. 

Bruce didn’t wait for your approval before shifting on his knees, hands grabbing at the balms that looked humorously tiny compared to his large palm. The cold paste spreads smoothly upon the tip of his fingers, and soon they’re on your skin. The sensation made you flinch, but the reassuring hand that laid on your knee made you calm down. You thought it was crazy how such a simple thing could make you relax so easily, yet again marriage and love were another crazy thing of their own.

Your fingers clenched on their own as you felt

your throat tightening. No. Hell no, you wouldn’t let Bruce see you cry after the hectic course of fucking hell of days that you’d put him through. That selfless side of you that was present most of the time was yelling at you to stay strong, and yet the sight of your burly, rough and yet caring husband doting after you following your accident, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. 

You fingers clenched into a fist, nails digging little crescent moon into the skin of your palm as

you gritted your teeth together to hold in a loud sob threatening to escape past your lips involuntarily. From his spot on the floor, Bruce froze at the sight of the soft, rhythmic movements that swayed at your chest. From the corner of his eyes nevertheless, and in the dimness of the enclosed room, his senses never failed him.

Tilting his face up to meet your own, his fingers unwillingly clenched around the poor tin can of balm upon his hands. The tears that you were trying so hard to keep in pooled at your waterline, entangling in your bottom lashes before escaping on their own accord. He watched as your chest shook, exasperation taking over your body before you could even cry to him. Yet you weren’t doing it, and for some reason Bruce knew that he had some part to play in it. 

He remained silent as his hand came to clutch onto your own. Then, the sobs shook you and you just couldn’t hold it in anymore. You jumped from your seat on the edge of the bed and straight into his awaiting embrace, arms thrown tightly around the broad neck. Bruce felt his heart squeezing at the sound of your distraught cries, like the Joker himself had his heart placed and chained on some sort of death carousel. 

Nothing was more painful to Bruce than family. The bad and the good hurt. Like when happiness would grasp at his heart so hard that it’d physically hurt. Only family could achieve that for him, yet life wasn’t always favourable, and the bat knew that better than anyone else. He could make a list of things, one shittier and more tragic than the other, that’s happened to Bruce ever since he was but a little boy, and yet, his heart never got more of in a twist than at the sight of a member of his family hurting. 

Your breath staggered, and your husband felt the warm exhale of you trying to stabilise yourself upon his neck. A large, ringless, and warm palm found its way to the small of your back like a collarless dog chasing home. Suddenly, another bare hand fell upon your back as Bruce embraced you against his chest fully. 

The room was void of any noise save for the agonising sounds of your pained sobs. Bruce didn’t need to ask anything, he didn’t need to inquire to know that you were hurt. All the more scared and traumatised after your encounter with the Joker. His large palm rubbed comforting circles along your back as you laid motionless in his warm embrace. 

“You’re home now,” he muttered, as though it would help appease all of the new scars and fears that you'd acquired in the span of a few days. 

“I’m glad.” you breathed out from your position in the crook of his neck, feeling like you’d break down again if you spoke too much. The both of you occupied your positions on the floor for far longer than normal, only splitting apart to rejoin the comfort of the soft mattress after you’d whined in pain following a slight movement to adjust yourself on his lap. 

Bruce made a quick and effortless job of carrying you back to bed, pausing in his movements when you’d told him you’d feel better to sleep with the side lamp on tonight. The frown on his face deepened at your comment, yet he didn’t allow you to see it as he kept his back to you despite complying. Settling in bed was even harder for you than you expected, unable to wrap your arms around the muscular torso of your husband and rest your head upon his chest as your injury unabled you to. 

Sleep didn’t come easy either, plagued with nightmares that previously didn’t exist in the far back of your mind. Bruce was here with you through it all, his sleeping habits aiding him to wake by the moment you’d stir awake. That night, Batman slept but Bruce didn’t, but the feeling of your pulse regaining its normal beat as you laid with your back against his chest erased Bruce’s ability to care. Safe and sound under the wraps.

-

anyways that was that….

[ynscrazylife]

THE BAT IN THE SHADOWS 🦇🕸️

— CHAPTER TWO

Summary: Bruce Wayne is the happiest he’s ever been in a while. He has a beautiful wife, amazing children, and is stopping crime left and right as Batman. All that shatters when you, his wife, mysteriously disappears.

Pairings: Bruce Wayne x Wife!Reader, Batfamily x Batman!Reader, Avengers x Reader (Platonic)

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Having to wait until morning to pull the security cam footage from nearby stores was hell. In the meantime, Bruce filled out a missing persons report (and nearly broke down whilst doing it). The worst part of it all was having to come home, alone, and face his family.

His kids and Alfred were exactly where he left them, all in the living room.

“Where’s Mom?” Dick was the first to ask, arms crossed. Neither he nor his brothers could hide the worry flickering across his face. Not even Alfred, who was usually so composed.

“I believe,” Bruce began, wanting to be strong for them. The image of your smiling face flashed in his mind and he slammed his hand against the nearby wall to steady himself. Get it together, he told himself. The weight of your shattered phone in his pocket felt like tons of bricks. “She’s been taken.”

He hated that that was all he could say on it. That was all he knew. He hated that he had to say it at all.

Five rounds of “What?!” echoed around the room. Bruce forced himself to look at Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian. At their pain. Their shock.

“I only found her phone, broken. But we will bring her home,” Bruce said, knowing that there was no keeping his children out of this investigation. “I will take the lead. I’m going to go downstairs and start working. Anyone is free to join me, but I’d also suggest trying to sleep. If you can.”

He started towards the stairs. Then, half-way there, he stopped and turned around, opening up his arms. It took a second, but the boys came to him, and Bruce tucked them in his arms with a strong, tight hug. Alfred watched for a moment, then walked around and put his hand on Bruce’s shoulder.

“We will find her,” Bruce vowed.

And, he thought, if you were harmed in anyway, if a single hair was out of place, he’d destroy whoever had enough nerve to do this.

//

Standing by Commissioner Gordon’s side, Bruce peered over the employee sitting at his desk, who was starting up the footage on his computer. They found the closest store to the spot where your phone was found and as soon as the sign switched from closed to open, they walked in.

“Here you go,” the employee murmured, pressing play.

The footage was grainy and dark but with narrowed eyes, Bruce was determined to take in all that he could. As soon as you walked into frame, Bruce couldn’t help but tense up, nervous about what they were going to see.

Your pace started slowing as you took out your phone. Then, a jolt of electricity — where it was coming from was off-screen — hit your in the back. Bruce fixed his jaw, trying not to lash out or yell or even cry as he saw you fall. The thought of you, limp on the hard, dirty sidewalk . . .

Then, two figures came into frame, lean builds and wearing all black. Bruce watched how one stomped on your phone screen and he took a breath. They were saying something to each other, but the footage didn’t have audio. It was impossible to make out. He curled his fingers into a fist when they each took one of your arms, starting to drag you away. They didn’t seem to care at all that your head was bouncing off the ground and Bruce wanted to smash the screen.

He’d make them fucking pay, that was for sure.

Gordon did the talking, thanking the employee and whatnot. Bruce was in a daze, the footage playing over and over again in his head. He hadn’t even realized that Gordon wrapped up the conversation until he was pulled outside. They went a few stores down, trying to find more security camera footage of where they took you.

When they did, Gordon and Bruce watched as the kidnappers haphazardly tossed you into the car. As if you were nothing. As if you weren’t the most precious thing in Bruce’s life. He made fists again. They drove away and the one good thing was that the footage captured the license plate.

Gordon drove them to the police station and Bruce practically forced him to speed. A goddamn license plate, that was their only clue. Bruce’s only hope. He was pacing back and forth while the police actually ran the plate, never staying still for even a millisecond.

Finally, Gordon emerged. “They must’ve stolen the car. We’ll start sending patrol units out, contact other local departments . . . We will find this car. We’ll find them,” he said confidently.

//

While patrol units drove all around the city and beyond, Bruce did the same in his Batmobile. He spent every minute of every hour on the road, only returning for food and a couple hours of sleep after numerous calls from Alfred. It was the second time when he came home that he saw how much this was affecting his children. A wave of guilt hit, he knew that he hadn’t been paying as much attention to them as he should’ve.

You would’ve told Bruce to leave it to your fellow detectives, who were hellbent on getting you home. You would’ve told Bruce that he didn’t have to be Batman. He had to be home. God, you were so good, it sometimes hurt.

Bruce sat with his four boys on the couch, his arms wrapped around them. He updated them on the case, told them everything he knew. Of course, they asked to join him on patrol, but Bruce told them there was no need. He was going to take a few days off to spend with them.

It was after those few days that Bruce received a call from Gordon. They were in the middle of a somber dinner when his phone rang and the vigilante sprang up from his seat, nearly knocking his chair over. Everyone paused their eating.

“Gordon?” Bruce asked. The last few times, Gordon had nothing big to tell him, but Bruce answered his phone the same way every time.

“We got the car. It’s abandoned, but they drove out of the city. Parked near the woods.”

Dick, Tim, Jason, and Damian all wanted to go search with their father, but Alfred assured Bruce that he’d have them finish their dinners. Bruce gave each one of them a kiss on the head and promised to be home at a reasonable hour (which Alfred would hold him to, bless the man) before he rushed off.

It took a little while to get to the coordinates that Gordon sent, but when he did, he found detectives and cops and even civilian-organized search parties. It warmed Bruce’s heart, how much the city adored you. They knew you as Mrs Wayne, the kind and brave detective.

He joined the search as Batman, looking high and low. He got deep into the woods when finally, he found something. A group of costumed people all looking around, some confused, some awed. Bruce could tell they didn’t belong.

“Identify yourself,” he growled, coming out of the shadows and approaching them.

They all turned to him suddenly. No one moved or said anything for a second, until a redheaded woman came forward. She looked to be around your age, maybe a couple years older.

“This is probably going to come as a shock, but please, hear me out,” the woman began.

“I don’t ‘hear’ people out. Identify yourself, now,” Bruce demanded, in no mood for games.

The woman sighed softly. “Fine. You can call me te Black Widow. Back home, I — we — are known as the Avengers. We’re looking for someone named Y/N,” she told him.

[melloollem]

Gotham high class||Bruce Wayne × Batmom Fem!Reader

Summary: At a gala party, you meet up again with your old friend and ex-boyfriend Luis, making Bruce jealous.

Warning: Jealousy on Bruce's part, insecurity, mention of alcohol, angst (on Bruce's part), comfort, maternal relationship with batboys.

(Dc masterlist)

It was another of the usual gala parties, Bruce walking around the large, spacious hall while chatting and greeting important people from Gotham City, all of the highest class and status. Rehearsed smile sequences while chatting with associates, you did the same on the other side of the party. Almost in sync with Bruce, you let out a delighted laugh at a joke that wasn't funny.

Your dress was stunning, you looked magnificent throughout, almost gliding through the party, greeting people that the media would say were family friends, but were just business, like everything else at this party. As you were talking to one of these people, you were interrupted by a gentle touch on your shoulder, and you turned, but not before apologizing to the person in front of you, who smiled and slowly walked away. Then you come across an unexpected but familiar face, your eyes widen and your smile grows, becoming one of the few real ones of the evening.

"I can hardly believe my eyes" Your voice showed the most genuine joy, your hands were quick to grasp his shoulders, Luis smiled sweetly at your action. "It's a pleasure to see you again, I hope your surprise is one of pure happiness," the black-haired brunette said, his tone leaving no doubt that he had noticed her amusement at seeing him. "Don't be silly, Luis. Have I ever not been happy to see you?" You pull him into a hug, and the man in front of you is quick to reciprocate.

Bruce looked around the room over the shoulder of the person he was talking to, his eyes searching for his children and his wife, even though the party was quiet and it was a safe environment, he still acted protectively, always trying to keep them in his sight. His children were fine, as far as that was possible. Jason was bored enough to accept any proposal that would get him out of here, but that was fine, and the others? Well, Damian was sitting in the corner, Tim was tasting appetizers next to Jason and Dick was chatting happily with a colleague who was a little distant from all his brothers.

What really caught Bruce's attention was you, or rather you and the strange man you were talking to. He seemed like a stranger only to Bruce, since you seemed to know him very well or else you shared a great first impression by which you seemed "intimate". Bruce didn't know how to describe the interaction.

He apologizes to the man in front of him, interrupting him in his business proposal, and turns away before the man even has a reaction. He walked quickly over to you, he was worried, he told himself, but you didn't seem to be in any danger, as you sat at the bar drinking a few glasses of wine with the stranger.

You feel a hand on your waist, the familiar touch, you turn around happily, not giving Bruce time to say anything, you pull him by the hand. "Darling, you must meet him. This is Luis, from my college." Now you have Bruce by your side and again, without giving him time to respond, you introduce them "Luis, this is Bruce Wayne, my husband." Luis looks at Bruce and smiles.

Now with the name and his features so close Bruce knew who that was, Luis, his ex-boyfriend. Wasn't he from another city? Bruce thought so, as he greeted Luis with a nod. "He's here for an exhibition of his paintings at the gallery in Gotham," you replied without him having said a word.

"Damian, I'd love to see your exhibition, I'm sure you'd have lots of things to talk about," you said to the man in front of you. Bruce wondered why you seemed so excited, seeing Luis again? But he didn't let his excitement show, still attentive to the conversation.

"Take him, it would be a pleasure to see you again and meet one of your sons" Luis made it sound like it was going to be a threesome, which began with a proposal for Damian to get to know some of his art, but you didn't seem to disagree with the idea, unlike Bruce who seemed to be the only one who understood the invitation differently, squinting his eyes in the direction of your ex-boyfriend, that had been his first visible reaction to the whole conversation.

You were about to answer Luis when you were interrupted by one of your children "Mom, can we leave? I feel that Dick is too drunk to continue at this party." Jason didn't give a damn, in fact he was lying. Dick was really out of his depth with drink, but he was highly tolerant of alcohol, Jason just wanted to go home and well, Bruce seemed to want the same standing next to him, so he took the opportunity.

You looked around, looking for Dick "Maybe you're right, just gather everyone in the car, I'll say goodbye to a friend quickly" Jason got your attention, something Bruce hasn't even come close to since he was in the conversation. Bruce wanted to stay there, but he was tired of being invisible in whatever conversation you were having with each other, so he decided to help Jason get everyone together.

When they were both away from your conversation with Luis, Jason smiled at Bruce's less than happy expression next to him "Who's that to you?" Bruce decided not to answer his son's question, he would just have more fun with his current predicament.

"As you can see, I have to go, but it was great to see you again," you said as you got up from the bar, ready to hug the brunette in front of you, before he said, "I think I should go too, it's getting very late, would you walk me to the door?" Luis asked the question as if it were an act of chivalry and you couldn't help but laugh, letting him lead you out.

You and Luís continued the conversation on the way, when you reached your car your family was still not there, nothing surprising, it was always difficult to get everyone to the car and the conversation continued even when you saw your family approaching.

"So, are we really going to keep in touch?" Luis asked, despite your earlier proposal you still hadn't provided him with a means of contact. "Do you still use your college email?" You asked when you understood his intentions, at which point you had your family surrounding the conversation, which didn't slow it down. He confirmed with a laugh.

"So, I'll find you easily," you shrugged slightly, your tone slightly mocking. "Wow, does that have something to do with your husband being a detective?" The man said amusedly, "No, I say that because I know how to turn on a computer." You joked that Luís was terrible at everything involving technology, but that didn't intimidate the man, who just laughed along with you. "I have to go now, Luís, but depending on the day of your exhibition, I'll be there," you said as you pulled him into a quick hug, Luís reciprocated and then said goodbye.

You're sitting in the car with Bruce on one side and Damian on the other, you remove some of your jewelry, you were bitterly tired, as you're about to move to remove your necklace Bruce takes over the mission and you whisper a low thank you to your husband "Will the patrol be quick?" You ask as you realize that Damian is about to fall asleep next to you while you stroke his hair. "Well, low crime reports on the radio, so probably," Dick replies, and you sigh as a sign that you've heard him. "You don't have to wait for us in the cave today, darling," Bruce says after noticing your tiredness, you would normally deny it, but today you just kissed his cheek as an act of thanks and leaned against him, holding your youngest son more tightly.

When you arrived home, Bruce dismissed everyone else to the cave, while he took you to your shared room. He helps you take off your loafers. "Couldn't you stay?" You always ask this question once a year in the days when tranquillity settles over Gotham, and you always get the same answer: "I'm sorry, dear, it won't be possible." And even after you've taken off your loafers, he's still standing there looking at you.

You sigh and throw yourself back on the bed, "I'm so tired" you mutter, he laughs and gets up "It must be the amount of wine you drank" He says referring to your not so controlled consumption next to Luis tonight, you look at him and then sneer "You in on this too?" Remembering the comment Jason had made in the car.

You hold out your hand to Bruce, who helps you out of bed and then heads for the bathroom, taking off your fancy dress before closing the door and saying "I love you, please be careful". Bruce then whispers a brief "I love you", before leaving.

When he comes back, you're already asleep and he thanks you internally for that. Today's patrol hadn't left much behind, just some light purple marks that, when mixed with those from the other night, would no longer be visible. He lay down next to you, failing to be silent after letting out a sigh of relief; some of the tension had left his body after lying there, but not all of it. You quickly reached for Bruce's body, leaning on him. For a brief moment, the man wondered if you had woken up, but relaxed when he realized that you had only acted instinctively.

The room was dimly lit, but not enough so that Bruce couldn't see your face, and then the memories of a little earlier that night slipped into his mind, Luis. The emotional part of Bruce wanted to dissect the whole affair. You would normally have waited up, but not today, you remained motionless, the logical part of his brain said that you were just sleeping more deeply, induced by alcohol, the emotional part said that it had something to do with the reunion with your ex-boyfriend, that the only reason for the break-up was the lack of communication, and an even more logical part of his brain convinced him that he should go to sleep quickly, but he didn't, unable to push away his own thoughts.

As he looked at your face, Bruce tried to read something there, but there was nothing in your sleeping features to prove it. "Your thoughts won't let me sleep" you say with a slight humor and a turbulent drowsiness, you hide your eyes in Bruce's neck, probably trying to ward off a headache "Sorry about that" He holds the thigh you're holding over him. "Tell me what's tormenting you" Bruce was about to deny it, but it's as if your sighs into his neck are forcing him to be honest.

"Luis" He keeps his gaze on your leg and keeps massaging it. You don't say anything, waiting for him to continue, but he doesn't. "There's no reason for that, Bruce," you say before planting a kiss on his neck and pulling away so that he can look at your face, and he does, a firm look like someone who didn't want to be part of that conversation.

And for a brief moment he thought you were going to give up "I don't have to go to your exhibition if you don't want me to" Your voice is no longer as low as it was at the beginning of the conversation, Bruce knew that his sleep wouldn't resume until you were in agreement.

"You don't have to do this for me" Bruce didn't believe he had the right to dictate this "But I would" You quickly replied. You were never willing to play with Bruce's limits and insecurities, not the insecurity of there being someone else, which Bruce didn't have, but the insecurity of losing you, either to one of those violent crimes that plagued the city or to an old relationship.

You moved closer to Bruce, wrapping your arms around him as if you hoped that in the end your bodies would merge. You longed for Bruce to hear more than what was said, for him to hear your thoughts. Words were never the best way to talk to him.

For some time the two of you lay there, both aware that the other wasn't asleep. Bruce analyzed your words and you waited for his conclusion. And little by little, very slowly, you felt the remaining tension dispersing from Bruce's body. He concentrated on your breathing, the sincerity that resided in the moment. And soon you and Bruce were losing the battle against sleep, the one action that gave you both the certainty that the matter was over. You were in consensus, in sync, you then allowed yourself to be lost in the darkness, accepting the end (or cessation) of Bruce's insecurities.

[hoetachi]

THERE FOR ME — J. TODD

➠ jason todd x blk!batmom! reader

➠ mulan’s input - umm sooooo….. hi guys!! never would have made it by marvin sapp was playing in my house and for reason i imagine such an angsty yet fluffy story with jason wanting to become a pastor after attending church on sundays with batmom!reader during his robin days & after the arkham knight arc, redeems himself by becoming a youth pastor at that same church and revealing himself to her

➠ c/w - religious, mention of death (may have typos! been awhile since i wrote anything)

“I look stupid!” huffed the young sidekick. it was sunday at the wayne manor and ever since you and bruce got married, the idea of sundays was reserved for accompanying you and your respective religious beliefs. both bruce & alfred didn’t mind it, even though bruce is an atheist himself— he still respected your beliefs and was originally the one that suggested being by your side on sundays. which is how jason found himself in the foyer of the manor with a crooked tie around his neck and a slicked back hair

“No, you don’t. Stop being dramatic” dick scoffed as he leaned lax against a nearby wall. “You think mom would let you walk out the house in what you were wearing before?” he quipped with an amused raised brow before ruffling his little brother’s overly slicked hair. “hey!” jason exclaimed, swatting his hand away

“easy off the hair gel, kid” dick grimaced as he flick some of gel off his hand

“it wasn’t my fault! blame bruce!”

“be grateful that your mother argued against giving you a buzz cut” bruce said as he ascended down the last couple steps before standing before a mirror by the front door. he adjusted his tie to make sure everything on his person was clean and sharp. he noticed from the corner of his eye jason beside him trying to mimic his actions yet failing miserably

“i’ll give up blüdhaven to see that” dick mumbled.

“asshole”

“language” bruce scolded

“you might as well let him get it out now before we enter the lord’s house” the clacking of your heels made all heads turn towards you. a soft smile grazed bruce’s lips once his gaze clung on to the silhouette of you. he helped you down the last step and you thanked him quietly before he swept you into a tender kiss. you both shared a loving stare before your eyes landed on your unruly son

“baby you’re doing it all wrong,” you giggled sweetly. “here. let me help.” you said softly before bending over a bit to help him with his lopsided tie. you finished and gave him one last look over before you felt like he looked good enough to leave the house, “my handsome young man” you cooed, swiping your thumb over his slightly sunburned cheek causing the young boy to groan at your affection. “i think the waynes are all set now” you announced proudly

“i’ll bring the car around, mom” dick quickly made his way out the door. usually bruce would prefer for you to ride in the limo but you’re too humble to let him spoil you so much plus you enjoyed the reliability of a good ol’ tahoe

you all loaded into the suv real quick, you and jason taking the back seat while bruce rode in the front. it didn’t stop the constant back and forth between your eldest and youngest, which you put a end to real quickly before they turned a sunday sour for all. once the car feel silent again only being accompanied by the soft noise of the radio dick toyed with, you couldn’t help but let your mind reflect a bit.

you were proud you couldn’t help share this moment with jason. the relationship between you and the boy has been a surprisingly smooth one. yes, he was crass at times with his language but you knew deep down he’s just a misguided kid that just needs a nudge in the right direction.

you all soon arrived. vehicles filled the parking a lot rapidly and greetings were hailed in every direction. you watched jason from the corner of your eye as he slightly hid behind dick with unease disturbing his features. you grabbed his hand and gave it a small squeeze, quietly reassuring him to relax his nerves

you all took a seat in the middle row as many others has filled other seats around the church. the boy was awed by the many different hats that graced the heads of elderly women that littered throughout the rows. you smiled to yourself at his own observation and curiosity as the pastor began his sermon. something told you, you might be getting a lot of comments about everything later tonight…

knowing this made your heart swell. to see someone as quick-witted and unapologetic such as your child, be quiet and absolutely engrossed was an sight that not even bruce could believe.

“i think i wanna be a pastor” he beamed towards you and your husband. you both shared a slightly alarmed look with a small awkward chuckle. yup, definitely going to be a long talk later tonight

he was an hilariously snarky & rude child, however he’s still your child. so when the unfortunate event of his death happened, going to the one place to feel somewhat of his passion and love was deemed to difficult and too much for your heart to take. your love for your lord faltered and doubt and anger crept in to keep you company at night, but how can anyone blame you?

so when next sunday rolled around, you found yourself humming softly amongst yourself as you quietly roamed the halls of the manor. you recently finished folding laundry with alfred and insisted on taking his task of making dinner tonight, so you were on your way to the kitchen

however, soft hiccups and sobs invaded your ears and your instincts kicked into overdrive to find the source. your ears lead the way as your feet followed, which took you right outside jason’s room. his door was cracked open a bit. peeking through the crevice, you spotted a small form curled up on the center of his bed shuddering. pushing the door open quietly, you took three long strides before sinking softly on the plush mattress

“what’s wrong, my lil’ bird?” you questioned with great concern as you lifted him up and let him sob into your chest. his tears began to soak through your sweater a bit as he tried to gain some kind of composure whilst you rubbed smoothing circles along his back

pulling back with a wet face, “dick said i’m stupidest robin bruce ever had… and i think he’s right” he whispered. you stared at him sympathetically. your poor sweet jason

“baby..” you called softly while bringing a hand to his cheek, circling the pink that hid below his cheek. you were going to have a long talk with richard and his words because you knew you taught him better than that

you released him and stood up, he fixed his posture and sat criss-crossed watching you with sad eyes. you offered a hand to him which his brows knitted together at before grabbing it. you pulled him off the bed and led him to his mirror. he was even more confused as few more loose tears rolled down his puffy cheeks. you stood behind him and positioned him infront of the mirror, he looked over his shoulder to you “what are we doing, y/n?” he asked with a hoarse voice

you offered him a kind smile, “face the mirror for me lil’ bird, would ya?” you asked sweetly and he followed without question. he took in his disheveled hair, flushed cheeks and reddish eyes. to himself, he looked pathetic but to you, your baby boy just needed his spirit lifted up a bit. “repeat after me, jay”

“i’m stronger” you placed your hands under his chin, so he could look somewhat confident when he looked at himself

“i’m stronger”

“i’m wiser”

“i’m wiser” he sniffed a bit. you brushed his cheeks, wiping his tear stains

“i’m better”

“i’m better” you placed a kiss to the crown of his head causing a small smile to appear on his lips

“much better”

“much better”

you got infront of the mirror and crouched down, “don’t ever forget that, baby. words are just words unless you give them power” you said sternly before he gave you a bearhug in return. you placed a couple of rapid slow kisses on his cheek, “now please go clean your face up, baby and come help me with dinner” you ordered and he dashed out your arms quickly causing a giggle to leave you as you sat on your knees watching him.

jason. your sweet, slick tongued & witty jason was ripped away from you within a blink of any eye. not a chance to say ‘i love you’ one last time before the harsh reality of being attached to the cowl and its darkness made it clear how much faith can’t protect your very heart. bruce, alfred & dick all made sure to be beside you during your time of need, especially when you had to attend the funeral. stepping foot made the knife twist even more in your heart, your knees buck and both bruce and alfred supported your weight

being here was alot harder than you thought. sitting you couldn’t keep your head up for longer than a minute before dropping to look at your empty side , the side he always eageredly sat at.

this was cruel.

as selfish it may sound but you didn’t want your lord to have his child back, not yet and not in the way he was taken from you. images flashed of his severely battered & lifeless body caused you to be inconsolable and alfred thought it was

as best to just bring you outside to get some fresh air in your system. the cool september breeze caused a slight burning sensation in your eyes

“how am i supposed to do it, alfred?” you muffled into his raven blazer as he held you tightly, fearing you might drop right to the autumn covered concrete.

alfred inhaled deeply, shutting his eyes for a moment to gain some composure for the both of them. jason was a troublemaker around the manor, but god… was he a kind child. all the help he offered when coming to making dinner some nights, taking time out of his day to help do laundry around the manor. not even dick was of this help when he was his age, yet this little boy managed to worm his way through his old heart.“by having strength, hope & faith”

“how can i when my baby has all of mine?” you questioned desperately, hoping at least your dearest friend can answer the burning question for you but once you were met with silence, you knew your faith has fully perished.

your god is a love and forgiving god, yet you felt as you’ve been selected to be punished personally for whatever wrongdoings you may have not acknowledge and repented for.

so 2 years and some months past and your heart slowly recovered from its loss, and for your spirit it was still wavering but as you slowly began returning to church felt that strength somewhat return especially surrounded with your whole family. dick, tim, damien & even barbs all stuck beside you for this morning. today marked the 2nd year you’ve brought jason here for the first time. emotions were definitely running high for you, yet your kids had your back if anything felt too much for you today. dick had bruce on speed dial so did barbs with alfred

they’ve been more protective over the family ever since the arkham knight situation bruce had to deal with. you’ll admit the trust you’ve shared with him faltered as well a bit since he never really revealed who the man behind the cowl was. you’ve tried asking the others and it was like a code to not tell you anything pertaining to the rogue, eventually you stopped concerning yourself with the thought of him.

an hour and half in and you felt your confidence raise again. the encouraging words from the sermon really brought things into view you. helped you really analyze how you felt and how you know your faith wasn’t something you should have questioned in the first place

“Is there anybody in this house other than me that can declare that you made it?”

“Tell your neighbor,”

“Never would have made it, never would have made it”

“Tell 'em never could have made it, never could have made it without Yo-” a voice caught off guard before you could finish. slowly emerging from the corner, dressed sharply was a young man but the more he came from and centered. your heart stopped and your skin scattered with goosebumps.

there stood.. a young man. well dressed, a crimson dress shirt that was neatly tucked into his slacks, hair nicely combed and you noticed now had a white streak in the front but that wasn’t the only thing that caught your eye. what really made you scurry yourself out of the row was the crooked black tie that hung from his neck

it was like an standoff between the both of you in the aisle. hoots and whistles bounced through the church as some members realized this was your baby and he was all grown up somehow

“I am stronger” he sang into the mic as he took a careful step, you followed him as your eyes began to water

“I am wiser” his voice quivered this time while another couple more steps were taken. you were on the verge of coming undone the longer you took in his features. he looked so much like bruce

“I am better, so much better” as you inched closer, he suddenly dropped to his knees, tears striking the both of you with such intensity you knew you both would have a headache soon. you engulfed him. his head pressed against your stomach as you cradled his head, fingers rummaging their bicolored locs

he clung onto you so tight you was starting to breathless but you didn’t care. you rather be in your son’s arms taking your breath than go back to how things were years ago. you picked his face up and soon helped him off the floor, dusting him off rapidly whilst triple checking everything on him was fine. you two locked eyes. the skin on his cheeks weren’t sunburnt anymore— more pale and littered with old cuts and a ‘J’ becoming more embedded in his skin. you could tell he was self conscious about them how he avoided your gaze, “still my handsome young man” you swept away the escaped tears from his cheeks and gave him a gentle smile. your eyes traveled down to the crooked tie and a small giggle erupted

“and still can’t tie a tie” you whispered causing a smile creep on his lips, “bad habits die hard” he spoke voice slightly hoarsed. you smoothed it out then your hands slid down from his chest and interlocked yours with his, bringing them to your lips before bringing him to sit with you and the others

you were tempted to ask some many questions on how was this even possible, but the mere idea of you questioning this miracle and it might take him away again frightened you to no end so you decided it was best to let this blessing be…

[apocalypse-shuffle]

RED HOOD | BATFAMILY (assorted canon)

—

“Long Overdue” (Jason Todd & Batmom!Reader) and (background Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)

| Reader was with Bruce in the past but grew distant after Jason’s death. No one tells her when he comes back from the dead until Bruce is forced to bring her in on a raid when they’re overwhelmed. -Jason and Batmom!Reader reunion.

| SFW, canon typical action/violence, cursing?, brief mention of suicidal thoughts

| This is like half fanon half UTRH/Batman:Hush. I’m really just fucking around with canon rn. Also the pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (pic source - Batman: Three Jokers comic)

| 2k+ words

| parts: one, spurt, two, three, four, five, six/six point five, seven.

You brace your hands on your hips, stern twist to your features.

“I failed worse than I thought as a parent if you think a couple of dropped criminals is going to make me hate you-.”

“There’s way more than a couple,” he scoffs.

You’re swiping your hand through the air before Jason’s even finished, the furrow on your face mirroring his own perfectly.

“And I truly don’t give a fuck.”

Whatever he was about to say stops dead on the tip of his tongue and he balks, eyes widening a fraction.

“Ma…”

And it almost - it almost makes you laugh out loud. The way he says it.

The mirth that leaks into your voice can’t be helped. “Boy…” you shake your head. “Nothing about this situation is normal, your killing isn’t going to be the magic thing that throws me off. Plus, I have been looking into what you’ve been doing. I know you've killed people and honestly…I don’t care. The hero sticht was never for me, I have a code and it’s not Bruce’s, but at the end of the day none of that matters. Your choices are your own Jason.”

You swallow thickly before continuing, “You’re an…adult now, you don’t need my blessing.”

You won’t say it cause you know it’ll piss him off, but Jason didn’t operate in uncertainty the same as Bruce. So attempting to talk him out of a decision would’ve just been begging to have your time wasted. If Jason thought his way was what Gotham needed then that was the end of the discussion on his part. You only regret what facilitated the fundamental shift in his stance of what’s “necessary” to keep people safe.

In spite of what you've said Jason’s features go back to being steeped, brows meeting and jaw clenched.

“That’s- that’s true. I know that,” you hum an affirmative and his eyes flash to yours. You haven’t seen that look in years. Like he’s sizing you up. It makes the corners of your lips quirk that you get to see it at all. “Just making sure you know where I stand.”

Your brow raises.

“Uh huh,” you nod to yourself. You have an inkling about why exactly he felt the need to jump at telling you off. “Even if he gave you a hard time about what you're doing your father does still love you, you know?”

Jason shakes his head harder this time, almost snarling.

“He’s not my damn father.”

At his tone you stiffen too. The shift feels like a punch to the gut and you can’t help but react as if the hit was real. It almost feels like it was.

Jason hadn’t exactly been smiling before but if you’d thought he was being distant then, you’ve been shown for a fool now. All that grace he was giving you is completely gone.

“…,” you look over the harsh lines of his face, the way his upper lip curls, and it makes your chest ache. The conversation went worse than you thought then. Buildings blew up all the time in Gotham, and Jason didn’t seem too banged up but- “Alright. Okay, Jason, I’m just reminding you that he works in absolutes. His anger likely isn’t at you specifically, just your methods.”

He sighs out roughly and when he straightens completely out of your hold you have to swallow back a noise of protest. “I know that, but it shouldn’t excuse him.”

He crosses his arms.

“He left me,” he forces out. You squint, confused. “I was holding out for him and he left me for that damn clown. From what I gather Joker set off the explosives I tied him up with - which wasn’t my most well thought out plan but that’s not the point. The point is when it went off he didn’t save me. Bruce took the Joker and left me for dead. Not me and that green haired freak, just me. I woke up under piles of rubble by myself.”

Your face drops, you can feel it, and Jason definitely sees it by the way his scowl reappears.

“What, you don’t believe me? It’s too hard to reconcile the man you love being the type to leave me to die?”

You hold up a finger and Jason almost (almost) cusses you out, you can see it on his face, but five years away apparently didn’t stop your glare from being more effective than his. Batglare™️ be damned you were still his mother.

“Jason, Bruce has surprised me a lot today, but I’m not gonna take that out on you cause I know better. What I am gonna ask is that you not take that tone with me; if you do it again I’m walking out this room and we can try this another day.” You huff and relax back into the neutral position you were sporting before. “I understand you’re angry and- and I honestly don’t know why you aren’t more mad at me, but if this anger is not for me don’t take it out on me. Have I made myself clear?”

He doesn’t let his head duck like he might’ve years before. No, this time he stubbornly keeps eye contact but he can’t stop how a flush climbs all the way to the tips of his ears. He sighs, shoulders dropping.

“You’re right. I’m sorry Ma.” You inexplicably soften at his words and move to grab his hand, squeezing it and using your hold to pull him back in. He squeezes back the tiniest bit and you give him a closed mouthed smile. “You're being leagues more understanding than he was.”

“Well you are killing people Jay.”

“No. No, I’ve seen him treat Dent with more compassion and he kills. He murders. I watched him pick Joker over me. How am I less deserving than that monster? That doesn’t feel like absolutes or objectivity or whatever to me.”

Even in his quietness his voice crackles along the edges. You bite the inside of your lip. That was a good question. How did Bruce make that decision? Your brows move together. Your ex, even at his most logic driven, wouldn’t let that happen. Maybe with the Joker. He’d already tried the whole ‘I won’t kill you but I won’t save you either,” thing with the villain but this? Jason was nowhere close to Joker levels of bad. You can’t-

Looking at Jason now - Jason who’s genuinely letting you process what he just dropped on you - you cannot fantom what would possess Bruce to leave Jason to be overshadowed by death again. His son. Your fucking son. You sneer, teeth grinding together.

“I want to know what happened.”

Now is when Jason chooses to come back down. His anger going once more to the foreground in the face of your own rising temper.

“Ma…you don’t-”

“I do,” you stand up straighter. Jason schools his expression fast, but for a split second he was giving off the distinct impression of a teenager who just got caught in a lie and can’t figure out what gave them away. So where’s the lie? “Tell me.”

Jason blows air out of his nose and cuts you a slightly exasperated glare but he does start speaking.

“I- we fought. It wasn't exactly cute, we were both going hard, but the goal was leading him to where I had the Clown strung up, so I let him get more hits in than I probably should’ve.”

Jason pauses, looking over at you. You only nod, allowing him to move at his own pace. Jason’s only slightly expanding upon information you and everybody else privy to Gotham news already knows, but you doubt over the last couple years he suddenly turned pathological. Jason only ever lied out of omission when you lived in the manor so him keeping the fine details of what went down from you now didn’t ping nicely in the back of your mind.

“I begged him to let me kill Joker - for everyone’s sake,” he admits. Voice gaining levity as if he’s telling a particularly far-fetched joke before dropping back down. “I guess I should’ve known better, but I couldn’t believe it. That he’d just let Joker roam free after what he did to me - did to the hundreds of innocent lives he’s wiped off this planet. How could Batman let that go unpunished, you know? But I figured maybe he’d been holding out cause a what pixie boots me woulda done: saved the bastard despite everything for the sake of second chances.”

Another glance to you, but you don’t stop him so Jason keeps going. Voice quiet and more present yet no less intense.

“But he’s had enough second chances. We should’ve stopped giving them out to that sack of shit years ago but we didn’t, and that’s on us, but I was giving him a chance to rectify that and let me do it for everybody. To send him off to hell right where he belongs, and you know what he did instead?”

You hold his gaze even though it hurts seeing all that anger. All that betrayal.

“He chose Joker,” you say faintly.

“Yeah,” Jason nods. The smile he gives you is acidic. “He chose Joker. And I set him up for it, but only because B wouldn’t just get it over with. He just kept giving me every excuse in the book, cause apparently that was too hard of a decision to make for me. So screw it I made him pick between the two of us. Helped his indecision along. Let me kill Joker myself or kill me to stop me from killing him, since he wanted to save that monster so damn badly.”

“Jay,” you say, deflating.

A sharp shake of his head is all you get by way of acknowledgment for the assisted suicide he nearly instigated.

“Bruce’s solution? Sl-”

Jason stops. This time when he takes you in his eyes are far away, and he refuses to meet your gaze. A few deft beats before his mouth goes slightly agape but nothing comes out.

“Jason…?”

He chuckles, brushing you off. Nothing’s funny though and when he looks back to you there’s something new in his eyes you haven’t seen yet. An expression that distinctly brings you back to a fifteen year old calling to ask if you’d been lying to him too. If you’d known about Sheila Haywood the entire time and said nothing.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine.” He swallows, “It’s just…at the end I got…emotional. Reckless. Turned my gun on him and he threw a batarang into…into the muzzle and it exploded in my hand. Then in the confusion I guess Joker got free and set off the bombs…and you know the rest: I’m so good I cheated death a second time,” he smiles. Something too big and with too many teeth to seem real.

“I don’t know whether I’m happy about that ‘second time’ or not,” you hold out your other hand and when he steps to take hold of it a small grin tugs at your lips. “But that’s only cause I don’t think you know either.”

You also don’t feel like he’s telling you everything, but for now this was a battle you were willing to rage another day. As long as he was safe it could wait.

Jason’s own smile shrinks to something more genuine.

“Maybe not today, Ma.”

“Yeah, I got you,” you say. “I’m tired of crying anyway.”

There is - after all - still a draft hitting your eyes that you are hopelessly ignoring the feel of. Jason grins.

“Well I’m starting to get a little faint myself so maybe you’re onto something, Old Lady.”

For a second you stop smiling, shooting him a cross look and sucking your teeth. He backs away from you to scoop up his helmet with a lighter, more real chuckle.

“Oh am I, smartass?” You turn around and knock him on the shoulder, urging him out the door while he gives an exaggerated ‘ouch!’. “See, I’ll show you old since you think you big and bad now that you can reach the top shelf.”

Despite the lighter air you’ve managed Jason only keeps laughing for as long as it takes him to reach the door. Once he opens it he freezes before he walks all the way through and turns back to you.

“I’m sorry about…everything. By the way.” Standing on the threshold with the smallest little frown on his face, he looks like a boy again and you smile at that warry frown.

Shrugging in between rows of grappling guns and prototype pellets you shake your head, rolling the stiffness from your shoulders and letting the twinge from the wound in your arm ground you.

“Don’t worry about me, I get it. If one confrontation went to absolute shit why wouldn’t the other? Trust though, with the situation at hand Bruce is my problem not you.” You point at him. “But you better call me after this.”

Jason stays looking at you silently then gives you one nod and slips that helmet right back on. Inwardly you protest the action but outwardly you content yourself with nodding back.

When he turns away and you can’t see anything but reinforced tact gear and shiny red you find your mouth opening again.

“Love you,” you call out. Just so he knows you never stopped.

His voice is soft over the modulation of the helmet when he responds with a hesitant: “Okay,” then you can’t see him anymore.

…TBC

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!

Also, I’m thinking about going on hiatus after finishing Long Overdue to give myself a break and shit, so yeah. I’ll (probably) come back on some unspecified date in July though so it’s not like I’ll even be gone for that long. Or like most people give a shit, but whatever.

Also also, I don’t know if I hit the mark and if the feelings were feeling, you know? But I made an attempt, I think that’s commendable.

possibly redundant EDIT: For clarification purposes - bcs my use of both scenes could confuse some - the version of the fight that happened in this fic universe is the one from the original comic and Under the Hood storyline, but the version of the fight that Jason tells Batmom (once he starts talking about being reckless and trying to shoot Bruce) is a lie he made up to spare her feelings based on the ending of the UTRH animated movie.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.

Tagged: @aarinisreading, @niphredil-14, @mxtokko, @calsjack, @brunnetteiwik

[silly-thinkings]

Batmom in DCeased!! (3 ending story)

Hello Readers! come along with me and my recent 3am hyper-fanfixation! What if Batmom was in the DC zombies story. As i kept thinking I just couldn't settle with one ending so... HAVE 3!!! a mini choose your own story. Hopefully the links work ;-; if they don't comment and let me know. I appreciate you all and i hope you guys are hydrated and having an amazing day!.

Scene 1: The outbreak

The day was beautiful outside. A true rarity in Gothem. No rain and just dark clouds. You sat in bed comfortably reading a book in your nighty since today was your off day. Later you’ll have lunch with Bruce and your boys.

“Mom need your help with something. I can’t find…”

You heard your son Tim at the door. Of course he can’t find something. The poor teen was probably working late last night. It was then when you heard the strange sounds on the door.

Thump. Scratch… Growl.

“Tim? Are you alright.” You get up and head to the door. The closer you got to it the more you felt your chest tighten. You open the door only for your Son to tackle you to the ground.

Your hands firmly on his shoulders as he tries to bite you. His skin pale like a ghost, bloody scratch marks on his cheek of his own doing. “Tim! Timothy Jackson! What are you…”

His eyes were dead, his strength slowly overwhelming you. How did this happen. Your baby was there one minute and the next he’s a zombie trying to kill you! His weight suddenly lifted off you. You shuffle back as you see your eldest son Dick Grayson pull Tim back and close the door. Your heavy breathing and tears came into focus as you heard struggling outside. “Dick! Richard Grayson be careful!” Realizing the danger that your eldest son is in you get up and make a break to the door. When you opened it Tim’s body lay motionless while Dick sat across your bedroom door. His fists red and black from what it seems like bashing his brothers head in.

“S-stay back mom.”

You shook your head. You inches closer only for Dick to put his arm up stopping you. “He got a good scratch… on m-me.”

You felt tears streamline down your cheeks. “No… no I can’t leave you. I”

It was too late… your boy was gone. Dick’s body shook and convulsed violently is it reanimated himself. Not a moment to waist you shut the door.

Bang. Bang. Growl

Even though the door was locked you still ran to your vanity table. As if the gods granted you immense straight you push and pull so that the table was placed Infront of the door. You step back, catching yourself in the mirror. The sight of you… blood on your neck. Your disheveled hair and puffy face. That’s when all the strength left you, you place a hand over your mouth as to not make any more noise to attract your undead son on the other side. Your chest hurt, the pain of not loosing one but two children in this way was cruel. And you were alone.

Bang. Growl. Scratch

What do you do?

-Get your phone! Tell Bruce about what’s happened.

-Escape. Take the essentials and head to the Batcave.

[i-yap]

Fights between bruce and y/n

bro is so paranoid, he knows everything about you . Everything , and when u find out he extensively stalked you, it prolly didn't sit well. with tim he stalks cuz he loves you. bruce has really serious trust issues and he stalked you to make sure u wont uh lets say steal his sperm and train your kid in the league of shadows .

he sucks at communication . like he will not explain why he does what he does and struggles to talk. Especially in like aggressive confrontations , he'll just go silent and batman persona like . so once you both calm down and sit in a secluded but calm place all alone he will prolly explain his pov. just be gentle with this giant please

hates nonsensical activities, sorry but its facts. he will give you his card take your friends for shopping but bruce has to run a company and the justice league and ( his kids if its batdad au) whats the point of trailing behind you while you look through clothes like? he isn't into fashion, he thinks you look pretty in everything. you guys get to spend no quality time why not just spend those 2-3 hrs taking you out for dinner after ur done shopping?

doesn't really get how expensive gifts can make someone uncomfortable. he is sort of used to gold diggers or rich women. so when you refuse diamond necklace cuz it isn't even a special occasion wtf brucie, I cant just take that , he wont get it. He prolly wont stop either. Will for sure end the argument with" this necklace has now belonged to you and no other woman deserves to wear. so throw it out if you don't want it but I am not taking it "back to the store" or whatever that means"

he is so smart, sometimes forgets that everyone else is not. he thinks its cute when u get super confused but you feel dumb and it'll take a genuine conversation where he tells you that he thinks your the smartest, kindest and most interesting person he has met and IQ or hacking skills or whatever has nothing to do with it.

getting him to retire.

[youreobsessedwithtoomanyfandoms]

Love Thorns All Over This Rose

Words: 2577

Warnings: angst, talks of a miscarriage, body image, talks of difficulty staying pregnant, mention of what is technically a still-birth, depression, suicidal thoughts, self-medicating, accidental suicide attempt (this is will make sense if you read it), probably poor writing and OOC characters but whatever

DC Masterlist Main Masterlist Join My Taglist

IF THERE IS A WANT FOR A PART 2, I WILL DO ONE, IF NOT, THEN THIS STAYS AS A ONE-SHOT!

I mention Y/N goes to a church to pray, it is described more as a Christian or Catholic one (I really don't know the difference and I apologize) as she lights a candle before she prays. If you wish to skip that part, it starts with "Y/N hurried up the steps of the Cathedral." and ends with "Y/N nodded silently before turning and walking out.". I do also mention that the reader themselves aren't very religious (but grew up with it so reverted back to old practices to see if it helped)

Alfred is also dead in this (don't ask why he just is) so that's why he isn't here!

The POV here isn't really consistent. It jumps between being with the Batkids, Bruce, and Y/N's. I tried to make it flow though so hopefully that works!

 I feel like I should mention:

Bruce and Y/N's ages don't matter (I'm not in the mood to deal with that) but; Dick is 31 (and married to Kori but that's not too important), Jason is 25, Tim is 22, Damian is 15, Cass is 24, and Steph is 23

I also am not too familiar with Duke, so that is why he isn't there much. Mostly just mentioned

Anywho, enjoy

Love Z <3

7:25 AM

The kids watched as Y/N was silent as she put the plate down in front of Bruce's empty seat. They all noted how fake her smile looked as she looked up at them. "Alright, I will see you kids later!"

They all watched as she walked out of the dining room and once they knew she was out of earshot, they started talking.

"Did she eat anything?"

It was Jason, he had been the last down (well...outside of Tim) so he only saw her putting the plates down and ushering them to eat.

Dick shook his head, he had seen her the entire time she made breakfast. Fully clothed, which was unusual as she usually just made breakfast in her pajamas with her hair occasionally brushed. But not today. Today her hair was done, makeup was on, she was dressed as if she was working.

But everyone in that house knew she was still off after what happened, even though it had been 3 months since the incident.

Damian flicked at his food, "Ummi was supposed to take me to school today."

Dick smiled at Damian, "I can, Dami. Mom is just...preoccupied."

Damian hmphed and continued to play with his food. Dick was concerned for his younger brother. He knew that while he himself was close with the woman he had allowed to become his mother, Damian was so much more as she was really the only person who never got mad at him or made fun of him when he didn't understand something.

Jason abruptly stood, "Since mom isn't here, I'm just gonna go."

Dick raised a brow, "Really Jason? You're just gonna leave after--"

"Hey, we've been over this before Dick. I come because mom asks me to." He shrugged as he put his jacket on, "Plus, I'm going to follow her."

Stephanie snorted, "She'll kill you when she catches you."

"If she catches me. If."

Steph hummed, "My bets are on she will. Y/N is always on the lookout, especially after..." She faded and looked down, regret piling up inside her as she thought of what she was about to say.

"Either way, tell us what you find Jason."

He nodded to Dick's request before heading out the side door in the kitchen. Dick tapped his hand on the table for a minute before speaking; "I'm gonna go check on dad, Damian go get everything ready and I'll meet you at the entryway, alright?"

The eldest stood, placing a gentle hand on the youngest shoulder before heading to the stairs. Dick was concerned. He had never seen his mother so...shut off. Pretending like everything was alright even though everyone who saw her could tell that she was so close to jumping off of a bridge.

The closest that he had seen her to this was back when Jason died and she broke up with Bruce. But even then, she didn't avoid things that she had already planned. Even then, she stayed committed to things.

Plus, Dick knew she had no plans today. Well...no plans except for the fact that beforehand this would have been her due date. And he knew that that was most likely what had off-set her so badly.

Dick didn't even knock before opening the door to Bruce's study. He was even speaking before his father even looked up from his computer. "Have you talked to mom?"

Bruce raised a brow, "What?"

"Mom." Dick crossed his arms, "When was the last time you and her had a real conversation?"

Bruce shrugged, "I'm not sure." He looked at Dick oddly, "What are you going on about?"

Dick let out a hard sigh, "You two are married, it is your job to take care of her. Goddammit Bruce!" He threw his hands up in anger, "You know what? Nevermind, I'm not...I'm not even going to try."

He angrily turned and walked out of the room. He didn't even understand why he even thought that talking to Bruce would help. He just walked down the stairs and remembered his promise to get Damian to school. Trying to hide the anxiety he had that he didn't know what exactly his mom was doing.

--------

9:09 AM

Jason watched Y/N walk out of the convenience store all the way in Blüdhaven. From where he was, he couldn't see what she had bought, but the moment he saw her go into the store, he had messaged Tim to watch her bank account. To watch what she was purchasing. Something felt...off as he watched her.

Jason knew that after the...accident, Y/N had been hard to reach. To talk to. He knew that she and Bruce hadn't been sleeping in the same bed since that argument he had accidently heard them having around 3 weeks after everything happened. So 4 weeks ago.

Granted...from what he had heard, it wasn't even a fight that they had had. Mostly just words being thrown at the other. Words that Jason never thought that he would hear either one say to the other. Words that he never told any of his siblings that he heard. All out of fear that one of them would panic. And while sure, he had a disdain for Tim and Damian, that didn't mean he would ever let either of them know what he had heard.

Jason wasn't sure how long he had been watching her just sit in the car before Tim finally texted him a list of what Y/N had bought in the past week. And considering Jason had seen her previous bank records for a week, it was a sure red mark with how short it was.

Tim

In the past week she's gotten a lot of sleeping pills. That's basically all that she has gotten. That plus energy and pain pills. Duke is thinking she's self-medicating again

Jason sighed as he pocketed his phone when he saw his mom driving out of the parking lot. He kept a safe distance behind her as he followed her on her drive back to Gotham.

--------

12:15 PM

Y/N hurried up the steps of the Cathedral. Trying not to make a misstep and fall as well as trying not to draw attention to herself. She closed the umbrella over her head as she walked in. Placing it in the small holder, she brushed the front of her outfit as her heels clicked on the ground when she walked down the long hall.

Last time she was there was for her mothers funeral last year. Last time she had walked up and grabbed the larger candle to dip down and light the smaller one. Her heart pounded in her chest as she kneeled, words swimming through her head and mumbling off her lips.

She herself was never very religious, but having grown up that way, she wondered if praying like she did as a child would work. Praying that things would get better and that she would get better.

She shakily did the cross on her before standing and wiping the tears that had silently fallen away from her cheeks. She turned and started to make her way out of the church when she heard a voice call out her name:

"Mrs. Wayne! We were not expecting you here today, is everything alright?"

Y/N slowly turned to face one of the Nuns, a small, fake, smile on her face. "Oh yes, everything is alright Sister. Just came here to pray for a moment. I haven't in such a long time."

The nun nodded, "Very well, I hope the Good Lord hears your prayer and makes it happen."

Y/N nodded silently before turning and walking out. She grabbed her umbrella before opening the door and walking out. She practically ran back to her car, wanting to get in before anyone saw her out.

But Cass and Steph did. They watched her speed back to her car as they sat in the cafe across the way. Stephanie shook her head, "She never goes there. Especially not since her mothers deaths."

Cass nodded as Steph continued; "Something is seriously going on with Y/N. Maybe something else has happened that we don't know."

"She's been deteriorating for the past 4 weeks."

Steph raised a bow and inquired, "4 weeks?" Cass nodded, "Huh...weird, that's around a week after she came home from the hospital." She grabbed her phone and started typing in the groupchat that only held the kids (Damian not included):

Steph

when did Bruce disappear for a few days after Y/N came home?"

It didn't take long for Tim to respond

logs say he left 35 hours after she got home and came back 83 hours later why?

Cass

She's been slowly getting worse sense then

Jason

I overheard them arguing around 3 weeks after everything happened and I know they haven't been sleeping in the same room since then. And I'm not sure how important this is; but Tim checked her bank account and she bought different pills so me, him, and Duke think she's medicating again. Or that she's going to start again.

Cass and Steph looked at each other, concern and worry was on their faces as they read Jason's last message. Something started unnerving them as they thought of the things she could possibly do if she was going to start medicating again.

----

3:25 PM

Y/N looked at her body in the mirror. Her hands came to lay on her stomach. Just like she did before. Tears brimmed in her eyes as she stared at her flatter stomach. She breathed shakily as her hands fell down to her sides.

Why?

Was all she ever asked.

Why me? Why did this happen to me?

She was so confused. She had always been good. Done everything to be a good person. But yet she still had that happen to her. Was she just not meant to be a mother?

Of course...she was one. She was a mother to 4 amazing boys and 1 beautiful girl. But still...it was different. Yes, those 5 children were hers, but that one. That singular one that she had carried for nearly 7 months had meant so much to her. Especially after being told time and time again it wouldn't happen.

It wasn't even the first time it had happened. She had had miscarriages before...but that wasn't what it was this time. The kidnapping. Bruce and the kids had found her after 2 days. The emergency c-section to save the baby.

But she knew. Of course she knew. She knew it had died.

Her baby girl. She had died before she even got the chance to live.

Y/N shakily breathed as she grabbed one of the bottles from the counter. She had thought it was the pain medication. But it hadn't been.

Sleeping meds.

Ever since it happened she had hardly been able to sleep. Nightmares of what happened still plagued her mind. Bruce yelling at her still echoed in her brain. Those...twisted words he said echoed inside of her.

She had popped a few in her mouth before dry-swallowing them and getting into the bath she had started earlier. The hot water felt like it was searing her skin, but she didn't care. She wondered if maybe she did this enough, whoever was above would forgive her of her sins and let her keep a pregnancy.

She wasn't sure how long she had stayed in the water before it became difficult to keep her head above water. Her body just felt so heavy. She wondered what pain meds she had grabbed at the store. She couldn’t remember them making her feel this way before. After a few moments of struggling to keep her head up, she felt her body sink down and under the water. But even as she felt water rush into her nose and fill her lungs, she couldn't bring herself to move and get out.

She just accepted her fate.

----

3:30 PM

Bruce sat in his office, a bad feeling settling in his stomach. Something was telling him to check on Y/N. See if she was alright. He knew she had returned around 20 minutes ago, the security cameras had caught her walking in.

He carefully stood from his desk and walked out of his office. He walked down the oddly quiet halls of the manor. A small feeling of pain and guilt started to eat at him as he got closer to the guest room she had been staying in. He knew she was struggling. He knew that she needed him today. But he just...couldn't.

He was selfish. He knew this.

He knew he was so goddamn selfish. Caring about his own feelings rather than helping his wife. She had been the one to physically go through everything. She had been the one to bear that trauma.

He had been so incredibly selfish since she had come home from the hospital. He had even begun to wonder why she even stayed in the manor.

But as he opened the door to the guest room, unrest settled inside him as he saw she wasn't there but the bathroom door was open. It was silent. He had known his wife long enough to know she never was silent in the bathroom. She almost always had music playing.

He pushed the bedroom door further open as he walked further in. Anxiety started to reach a breaking point as he walked into the bathroom.

And time felt like it moved in slow-motion as he saw her state. Her knees bent out of the water, her head under. He saw the three bottles of pills on the counter. He saw the open one read sleep on them. He ran over to the tub, grabbing under her arms and pulling her out.

He bent down, trying to listen for a heartbeat. He felt like his own heart stopped as he heard nothing. Not even a faint thump of one. He quickly moved to her side and started CPR.

Everything still felt like it was moving slower than it was as he pushed down on her sternum. Tears gathered in his eyes as he repeatedly slammed down onto her. As he breathed into her mouth. He didn't stop. He couldn't stop.

It felt like an eternity had passed by the time he finally had gotten the CPR to work. She began to cough profusely, water spluttering everywhere. He sobbed as he heard her shallow breaths break through the air.

He heard the noise of Dick's voice breaking. "Mom?"

He looked at him, seeing both him and Damian staring at the scene in front of them. Staring as their father held their mother in his arms. As tears fell from his eyes, he pleaded for them to call 911.

It was with shaky hands that Dick did it. His words sounded choked back, he kept stuttering. Trying to say what he was supposed to but his mind was running at a million miles and and half a mile a second at the same time. Everything felt fuzzy and he had no idea what he was supposed to do. All that he knew was that he walked in on his dad doing CPR on his mom.

That was all he knew.

That was all Dick knew.

[mischieveousmayhem]

continuation of the series "Mom, we miss you", Bruce's point of view without his wife

My love, I failed

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Batmom! Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Mention of death (obviously), Bruce ooc

Synopsis: Bruce took a chance to love again. Only to lose her.

A/N: okay a few things, thank you for all the requests ima work on them asap. second of all , back by popular demand we're gonna do Bruce. Third, I did Bruces differently;). Lastly, I might do Alfred too cuz like he's part of the fam too 🤭 anyways enjoy

THE MASTERLIST

—

"Dear Y/N,

I only want to talk to you, so here I am. You're gone and I realize that. But I miss you so much and can't accept your death. I know you wouldn't want to see me like this, I know you would want me to be strong but I simply can't because you were my strength.

I have not seen the boys in months after your funeral, only one I've seen is Jason and that is because sometimes I will sit out here with him.

I call myself Batman and claim to be a hero. But you were more of hero then I am. You even had your own power. The power of love.

When you first came into my life, I didn't except us to adopt so many kids together or have Damian around. Hell, I didn't even expect us to ever get married. You used that power of love and casted a spell on me.

For all these years you have dealt with me, and I don't know how or why. I know I was a little bit rude to you sometimes but you still dealt with it even when I hurt you. When I got in that bad mood, you always found a way to bring me down to feel like myself again.

As for the boys, they each had their own flaws when they first came into our lives. But to you their flaws made you try even harder to show them you loved them. However, I will never understand how you get the boys to cling onto you like they did. Maybe you just showed them the mother's love they were missing in their life. Hell, you even showed me mother's love, and you are my damn wife.

But my darling, I never got to apologize to you properly. Out of all the times I should've, you came and apologized like it was your fault. I never even said I forgave you most times, because most times it wasn't your fault.

I'm sorry for how I was towards you most of the time. Especially when you were upset about me putting myself and the boys in danger. I realize how bad it was. I apologize for all the times I broke your heart, and didn't help you put it back together.

But last of all, I'm sorry for sleeping with Talia while you were gone that one time. I don't understand myself why you stayed. I know that caused you so much pain and it ate at you when you found out Damian is my biological son.

For going through all this you are proven to be the strongest person I will have ever known.

My love, I failed you. I have said this when it's too late but I hope you're watching me and listening, because I want you to know I'm sorry.

Your pain and suffering has ended. Your long with your mental health is over. You were super strong , and thats why you are The Batmom.

I love and miss you,

Bruce Wayne."

He was crying the whole time he read that to your grave. Which secretly had nothing in it.

Why?

The public visits your grave and Bruce knew they would. But all of your boys had some of your ashes. Tim, had the most.

Bruce had a locket with your wedding picture on it and inside some of your ashes, which he clutched and his tears fell and he read the letter he wrote.

There he sat, underneath the cherry blossom tree at 2:45am, at your grave. His apology unheard by others but hopefully heard by you, Batmom.