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athenalvss · 18 days ago

Note

Batkids finding out that batmom was a model, a famous one

FASHION FASHION ( bruce wayne!)

summary: Your kids are bored and discover your secret past, and a somewhat strange secret from their father.

pairing: Bruce wayne x fem! model reader

note: the characters don't really stick to the personality they have, but I liked how it turned out so, sorry I'm not sorry

open request - dc masterlist

It all started as a harmless search.

The kids were bored. A night with no missions, no emergencies, no chaos. Just the rain pounding against the windows of Wayne Manor and an awkward silence that none of them wanted to fill with real questions. So when Dick suggested going up to the attic, they all agreed with childish enthusiasm.

"Alfred said not to go up," Tim muttered, holding the flashlight.

“Alfred says that about everything funny,” Jason replied, already perched on some crates.

"What are you looking for, exactly?" Damian asked, arms crossed. "Dirt?"

"Something interesting," Dick replied, with a mischievous smile as he opened a dusty old trunk. "And probably some of Bruce's dark secrets."

The others gravitated toward it like magnets. The boxes had no labels, but were sealed with a leather strap cracked by age. Tim carefully opened one, as if it were a fragile relic, and inside they found… papers, envelopes, folders, and something even more striking: old magazines.

"What the...?" Steph muttered, taking one of them.

It was a Vogue Paris cover. The issue featured a striking young woman with familiar eyes, shining with a power that pierced the page. She wore a dark dress, her hair pulled back, and her expression was one of absolute elegance.

Damian silently flipped through an album until he stopped on a particular page. His eyebrows furrowed. "What is this?" causing everyone to stop what they were doing.

It was from a different box. More personal, there were letters, printed articles, old photos. The most striking one was one of Bruce and Batman's wedding, both young, you younger than him, but he looked at you almost dazzled. And beneath the photo was a note in Alfred's handwriting: "You always had a soft spot for her, even before you met her. It was only a matter of time."

Everyone fell silent. Even Jason, who muttered, "What the hell?"

Tim cleared his throat, smoothing out the crumpled paper before beginning to read. The page had yellowed edges, as if it had been stored away for years. The title at the top was from an old celebrity magazine, one of those tabloids Bruce would now despise but had clearly, once upon a time, collected.

—“The tastes of Gotham’s heir: who is the model stealing young Wayne’s attention?” Tim read aloud.

The boys looked at each other, confused.

"Model?" Damian asked. "Who are they talking about?"

Tim looked down. His eyes widened at a photo. It was Batmom, young, walking down a runway in a scarlet evening gown, elegant, unstoppable. Beside her, another photo of Bruce, even younger, smiling as he got out of a car, with that rich boy smile that bore no resemblance to the man they knew now.

—“Sources claim that the Wayne heir has a fixation with the model of the moment. He's been seen on more than one occasion with magazines where she appears on the cover, and some insiders claim he has a photo of her in his office. Obsession or admiration? Time will tell if Gotham's most eligible bachelor will dare to approach the icon who has him fascinated.”

Jason let out an incredulous laugh. “Mom was Bruce’s celebrity crush!?”

"For God's sake, Mom was a model" Dick said, still surprised.

And there it was: a photo of Batmom walking the red carpet at Cannes. And another of Bruce, maybe twentyfour years old, leaving the company with a fashion magazine folded under his arm, and the magazine showed a close up of the cover showing your face.

“Oh. My. God,” Steph said.

—This is like... when someone marries their celebrity crush... Only he did it —said Tim

“Bruce was in love with Mom… before he met her,” Dick said, as if that reshaped his entire family history.

"That's cute…" Steph murmured as she looked through all the magazines.

"He seems more like a freak to me" Jason added, though he seemed secretly impressed.

Just then, the sound of soft, steady footsteps interrupted the silence. Alfred appeared in the attic entrance, his calm, unmistakable demeanor.

And as if fate had known it, Alfred's firm footsteps were heard ascending the attic stairs. "I knew curiosity would win" he said, without raising his voice too much. "Although I expected it to be a few years ago, all detectives were quite slow to see..."

"So you knew? That Mom was Bruce's teenage fantasy?"

Alfred raised an eyebrow, picking up a magazine from the floor with two fingers as if it were a crystal goblet. "I prefer the term 'admiration.' Although... yes, I knew it. I knew it from the first day he walked in with a copy of Harper's Bazaar under his arm, feigning interest in an article about Swiss watches."

"That's beyond pathetic," Damian said, a little disappointed in his father.

Then Bruce's firm, heavy footsteps were heard on the wood of the staircase.

Everyone froze.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice low but firm, seeing the chaos of magazines, clippings, and letters.

"So you had an obsession with Mom?" Tim shot back, not missing a beat.

"A whole collection of magazines?" Steph continued, holding one up. "Bruce, this is teen crush level."

"How did we not know this before?" Dick looked somewhere between fascinated and disappointed in himself.

Damian, still in his sour tone, crossed his arms. "I thought you were pathetic in other ways. This is new."

Bruce sighed, closing his eyes for a second. "Why were you rummaging through private things?"

"We were bored. It's Dick's fault," Jason said quickly.

"Alfred knew it," Steph accused, pointing to the butler, who had just calmly brought up a tray of teacups as if it were all part of the service.

Alfred didn't even flinch. "Of course I knew. Master Bruce had a poster of her hidden away. I discovered it once when I went to get the laundry."

"Alfred!" Bruce growled in disbelief.

"im sorry master Bruce"

"A poster?" Jason asked, raising his eyebrows with a mischievous grin. "I don't want to know what you were doing with that."

"Jason!" several people shouted at the same time, between laughs and groans.

"It was a different time" Bruce tried to defend himself, though he knew it was useless. "i didn't do anything. I had it because i admired her work. End of story."

"Sure, sure," Tim murmured. "The art. The talent. The... four foot ten legs."

"TIM!" they all shouted at once.

"So Mom was your celebrity crush?" Tim said, amused. "And you married her? That's legendary."

"It wasn't exactly like that," Bruce began, but broke off when your silhouette appeared in the doorway.

"What are you doing with my magazines?" you asked, a mixture of amusement and resignation.

The kids turned around as if they had been caught stealing.

“Investigating your hidden past” Jason said, waving a magazine like it was classified evidence.

"Confirming theories," Tim added, still holding a photo. "Like, Dad was completely in love with you before he even met you."

"And that he had a hidden poster," Damian added, his voice dry. "Disgusting."

"I didn't want to know that, by the way," Steph continued, raising a hand. "But now it's etched in my mind forever."

Bruce put a hand to his forehead, muttering something unintelligible.

"And you found this, Alfred?" you asked with a smile, looking at the butler, who was still holding an untouched cup of tea.

"I was just providing some historical context," Alfred replied, unperturbed. "And perhaps I remembered certain... details."

Bruce looked at you with a silent intensity. The same as always. As if he still couldn't believe that that woman from the magazines was standing in front of him, every day, in a bathrobe, drinking coffee and scolding her children for not setting the table.

"Come on. I'll show you something better than magazine clippings."

You led them downstairs to the main room. You opened a small, decorative-looking wooden box. From it, you took out an old flash drive. "I thought this would get lost over time," you said, plugging it into the TV.

You led them into the living room. You connected an old external hard drive to the TV screen. You didn't explain anything. You just pressed "play."

And there you were.

A young you. Walking down a runway in Milan. The camera followed you as if you were the only person in the world. Fashion shows, interviews, covers. The music, the flashes, the unstoppable aura. A version of you your kids had never seen.

Not as a mother, not as Bruce Wayne's wife. But as yourself. Strong, brilliant, and unforgettable.

#dc masterlist #bruce wayne x reader #imagine bruce wayne #imagine batmom #batmom reader #batmom x batman #damian wayne x batmom #batmom #batman imagine #imagine batman #jason todd x batmom #batfam x batmom #batfam masterlist

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timmydraker · 8 months ago

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Tim who’s a femme boy but not in a ‘skater skirt and thigh high socks’ kind of way.

No, he was raised by two people who value tradition and fashion, teaching him the ways of old money.

He watched his mother, who worked with woman who married into families and worse low cut dresses and diamond necklaces, hold the same power over men with only her wrist and head bare. He learnt that modesty was as equally powerful as nudity, that a woman could be devastating in any fabric if she out in the work.

Tim has always known he isn’t a woman, is comfortable being a man, but by all that’s natural does he not look at the way they dress and feel longing.

He’s twelve when he tries one of his mother’s dresses on for the first time.

It’s far too long, puddling at his feet, but he feels so beautiful in the mossy green fabric. The elbow length sleeves go to his wrist, but it still feels almost scandalous in a way that isn’t about the dress being on a boy.

He puts the dress away and begins to buy his own.

Naturally, he doesn’t risk his parents ire and keeps them hidden, but with them being gone so long it’s easy for him to spend some time by himself to dress up all he likes.

By the time he’s fourteen and has been around in for a while, he’s managed to go through a few different styles and find what truely feels like him.

He still wears his stupid science shirts and baggy hoodies over his formal dress shirts, it’s just that now he might add a simple long skirt instead of his dirty jeans. He won’t skate in a skirt, only because he doesn’t want to damage them and jeans are safer, but he also doesn’t leave the house in them for a while.

It’s not long after he’s recovered from Jason’s attack, his former idol still having trouble coming to terms with the lies he was told by the LOA, that he decides to see what Bruce thinks.

Ironically, it’s Jason that gave him the confidence.

Jason had made a comment when he was going on his rant to Tim about how Robin shouldn’t exist and he should get out, that he was warning the boy he should cut and run from Bruce. All he had said was that he was cutting his life short by being Robin and Tim felt that comment hit him harder than the bullet to his leg.

His time was short, most likely he would die before he got to marry or maybe even graduate (though he was considering dropping out anyway), so why hide?

Tim had been just about to get changed before he left to go see Bruce for a checkup on his mostly healed injuries when he caught his reflection and stopped.

The white shirt he wore was long sleeved and covered his neck, the buttons going up the front made of wood and shaped like hearts. His skirt, a dark brown flannel pattern prove that went just above his ankles, had a corset like fitting at the top that hugged his waist carefully. While he would prefer a more womanly figure, he wasn’t going to implement old Victorian body horror to get that.

Tim did go back to his room, but only to put on some simple heeled shoes of brown leather with a gold buckle on the side.

He put on a big shall over his shoulders, picking up his phone and putting on his headphones before he made the walk to Wayne Manor.

As usual, he didn’t need to knock as Alfred opened the door.

The man didn’t give any inkling as to surprise or shock at Tim’s outfit and simple said, “Glad to see you putting some effort into your appearance, Master Timothy.”

The snide comment made Tim relax greatly, quipping back about him being able to wear more than just jeans and t-shirts to the older man. The two talked normally and that made everything feel so much better than some grand speech on Tim accepted who he is.

Dick and Bruce are talking to each other in polite voices, both still a little awkward with each other even if they have gotten better, and both turn to great Tim as he enters the dining room for dinner.

Bruce looks shocked, showing he isn’t feeling too much like Batman at the moment, but he covers it up and says nothing and lets Dick speak.

Tim immediately feels stupid as Dick walks up to him with a big smile and opens arms, because Dick Grayson was raised in a circus! If anyone was going to accept ‘oddities’ in the family it would be him, “Timmy! Oh my little baby, you look so good! What’s the occasion? Oh! Do you have a date?”

His brothers teasing mg tone at the end makes him smile and shove him gently. “Not a date or anything else, I just… thought I’d wear something more my style out for once.”

Dick beamed, hearing the unspoken confession of trust and picking his brother up and spinning him around, “Oh, Timmyyyy! My baby, you look so beautiful! You can wear whatever you want, all the time, anywhere! I’ll will straight up eat anyone who has a problem, I swear I will do it, just say the word-“

Bruce finally talks just to cut Dick off, “Dick, no ‘eating’ anyone who hurts your bother. A lawsuit will surfice.”

Tim can’t help but beam at Bruce, knowing full well that those words are his weird way of showing his approval and acceptance. Him being more forward with it would have been nicer, but he was the most fluent in the language of Bruce Wayne outside of Alfred and so he was okay with it.

Dick went to whine, acting like a spoilt child while he secretly raged inside that he was being told not to commit a violent act. Honestly, Tim wasn’t sure if it was because it was in defence of his brother or because Dick was always secretly searching for something to get aggressive with.

Tim smiled happily, taking off his shawl and thanking Alfred when he swooped in to take it away for him.

As Tim sat at the table, he felt a peace build in his heart that he hadn’t felt… well, ever.

#batfam #tim drake #bat family #dc comics #batfamily #dc universe #dc #tim drake is red robin #tim drake is a menace #femme tim drake #fem tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #bruce wayne #nighwing #Batman #batman and robin #red robin #cross dressing

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fancyfeathers · 8 months ago

Text

Okay so I see a lot of Yandere!Batfam with a darling who is one of the children in the family but what I don’t see is Yandere!Batfam with two darlings, a single mother with a daughter.

Based on this quick post I made (link)

Like just picture the mother!darling being a rich sweetheart of Bruce Wayne’s at one point, perhaps even being his fiancé bit was the engagement was called off by her because of his work as Batman. She did not want her husband keeping secrets from her, and then imagine if they had a child one day, what sort of life would it be for them?

Well that question certainly comes to life when she finds out she is pregnant just days after leaving Bruce. She has far too much pride to go back to him and scared what life her baby would live with their father being in danger every night. She gives birth and raises her daughter herself, beginning to travel in the world for her work, leaving Gotham just as Bruce takes in Dick Grayson.

Years go by and she raises her own child and Bruce takes in his own children. Of course they hear about each other in the press but really have not paid much mind until she is back in Gotham, attending a charity event at a hotel. Her daughter is up in their hotel room, asleep or so she hopes anyway, and she is sipping on a glass of champagne while making meaningless small talk and then like as if out of a scene from a movie both she and Bruce spot each other from across the room. Conversation between the two is unavoidable especially with Dick trying to push the two together but it is sour quickly with her quietly chewing him out for choosing his vigilante identity over her and-

“Ma’am, your daughter just woke up, a nightmare.”

The conversation is cut short by one of the hotel staff speaking out to her while holding a little girl’s hand who is standing there in her nightgown, eyes full of tears while she clutches her stuffed animal. Bruce just watches as his ex-fiancé takes care of her daughter, his daughter, excusing herself from the party to put her back to bed. Then when the end of the party comes and people have started to leave he finds her again and asks her the question…

“Is she mine? Your daughter…”

“…Yes… she is… I-I am sorry Bruce, I have to go.”

She runs off upstairs and he is just left there starstruck and with his own kids not too far away and listening into their conversation. So when they all arrive back at the manor Bruce is due to give an explanation about the woman who is the mother of Bruce’s daughter, Damian’s half sister, and who might as well be the little sister of the rest of the lot.

So with a bit of planning the kids come up with a way to add a few people into their family, a mother and a little sister…

Dick goes to visit them at the hotel, calling beforehand and asking her to meet husband in the hotel lounge to talk. He tries to convince her to come back, her daughter needs to know who her father and brothers are, and Bruce misses her and she cannot deny that she love Bruce at one point and-

That plan goes up in flames as she runs upstairs, rejecting Dick’s idea.

Then that falls to plan B with Jason.

This wasn’t actually intended to be a plan, just Jason keeping an eye on the little girl from afar to make sure nothing happened to her while she was out with her nanny, after all Gotham is a dangerous place. She and her nanny were just supposed to be out running errands before they leave Gotham but she just happened to be separated from the nanny and alone in the dangerous streets. It is only a matter of time before someone tries to snatch her up, the daughter of a rich woman, she would be perfect to hold for ransom. Luckily Jason, or rather, Red Hood is there in time to save her, telling her to go in the corner and cover her eyes while he deals with them. He hushes her as he wraps her up in his jacket, telling her to keep her eyes shut as he carries her out of there, he doesn’t want her to see the pools of blood he is walking through as he is carrying his little sister out of there.

Then when he returns to Wayne Manor with her, Damian looks after her while Jason explains what happened to Bruce. It isn’t safe for them, she could have been killed or worse if it wasn’t for him. Eventually Bruce caves and agrees to their plan of getting them both back.

Bruce goes to go see his ex-fiancé who is in a state of panic because her daughter is missing. Bruce sits her down and tells her daughter is safe and taken care of at Wayne Manor but there is a problem, her daughter’s kidnapping will be seen as child neglect if Bruce chose to file for custody of his daughter. If that was not enough to get her cave in he shows her a file of blackmail Tim had gathered on her which also shows old not look good to the court, so he asks her one thing with only one answer to it…

“Will you marry me?”

“…fine…”

Then not to far down the line there is a white wedding that should have happened years ago, and as Bruce and his wife exchange rings, say I do, and kiss, their children watch…

Her daughter is not a fool, she knows something wrong, she just has no way of telling anyone as Dick holds her on his hip as if she weighs nothing, and Jason fixes her flower girl dress for the pictures that Tim is already taking and has been throughout the ceremony.

#yandere dc x reader #yandere dc #yandere justice league x reader #yandere justice league #yandere bruce wayne #yandere bruce wayne x reader #yandere batman #yandere batman x reader #yandere batfam #platonic yandere batfam #platonic yandere #yandere batfamily #platonic yandere batfamily #platonic yandere dc #platonic yandere bruce wayne #yandere damian wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake

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arachnidseyesmoved · 25 days ago

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─⋅⋆⁺𖤐

CALLS AND CONNECTIONS

Damian Wayne x Constantine! Reader

A/N: Previous. Next. Fem reader. Just a short little half chapter because I wanted them to talk a little more before the next chapter 👀. wc: 910

Your blaring ringtone wakes you up. The rather uncommon sound is loud and abrupt. Groaning, you pick your head up from where it's stuffed into your pillow and squint your blurry eyes at the contact name.

“Damian😾”

Before your sleep addled mind can even begin to comprehend how strange that is, you swipe to answer and mumble a confused,

“Damian?”

His voice comes from the other end, deadpan and static.

“Yes, Constantine. It’s me.”

You can see the eye roll so clearly when he says that.

“What's wrong?”

The most likely reason you can come up with for why The Son of Batman could possibly be calling you is that there might be an end of the world scenario happening.

“Nothing’s wrong— Did you just wake up?”

You sniff, look around the tussled sheets of the white hotel bed and simply answer,

“Yeah?”

“Where are you?”

“London.”

“It’s currently 12pm in London.”

“…Yeah?”

He scoffs and mumbles some Arabic words that sound vaguely like insults.

“Well, clearly you’re not busy but If you want me to hang up I will.”

He hears sheets shuffling and a huff come from his earpiece as you clamber into a more comfortable position.

“Wait, so why are you calling?”

He hates the scratchy tiredness of your voice, he hates that he now knows what you sound like after just waking up. He hates how stupidly intimate it feels.

He sighs to himself as he lands on another roof.

“I just wanted to… talk.”

You stare at the ceiling, convinced you’re not actually understanding what he means.

“Talk?”

He clicks his tongue harshly,

“Yes, Constantine. I believe it's called ‘catching up’.”

Huh. A moment of disbelief comes and goes, you speak into the phone.

“Ok, well… How’s it going?”

You can't help but chuckle when you ask that. This entire situation is rather chuckle-worthy.

“I'm currently on patrol. It's been rather quiet.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Unlikely, It might just mean that crime’s gotten smarter or I've gotten sloppy.”

“Right, because that's likely.”

There's a pause over the line. It's clear neither of you are used to phone calls that aren't about end of the world scenarios. After listening to the sound of his breaths as he leaps from rooftop to rooftop, you finally build up enough courage in you.

“I asked Zatanna if I could join her tour….as another act.”

He almost slips on the ledge he just jumped to. The night he patched you up was only a week ago, he was very much not expecting you to take his advice to heart.

“What did she say?”

“Well, she definitely wasn't expecting it, and I can tell she's a little… nervous but she said I could do something small to start, like an intermission between the real acts.”

He hums, stopping to pet a stray cat he passes.

“Is she making you pull rabbits out of hats and calling that an act?”

“Yes, actually. Remember when I explained demonic animal persuasion to you?”

He hums in confirmation. Of course he does, he remembers everything, especially really cool demon animal magic.

“Yeah so, obviously demons who can look like animals are much better as an act than actual animals, Since people just can’t go without animal acts, apparently.”

You both share sounds of disgust.

Another moment of silence passes, no sounds except your sheet shuffling and Robin’s breaths as he patrols the rooftops over Gotham. He breaks the silence this time.

“How long is the tour?”

“Uh, well we start in Europe and-”

“Hold on.”

He interrupts and you hear grunts, thumps, shouts and clangs from your phone speaker. You patiently wait for him to be done rounding up whatever goons he's just found, gazing at the curtain covered windows of your hotel room. You grumble at the lack of sunlight coming through the white fabric. London weather, no wonder you slept past noon.

“Continue.”

“Right so… I asked Zatanna if we'll be going to Gotham—”

He pauses while confiscating the last unconscious man's gun. Why would you ask that?

“—and she said yes, in a few months time. I mean, I guess it doesn't really matter cus you could go to any city in the world if you wanted to but y’know.”

“Are you asking me to come see you perform?”

“….Yes.”

He grips his katana tighter, suppressing a smile even though no one would see it.

“I’ll be there.”

“…Cool.”

Damian briefly thanks his blessings that you're too sleepy to come up with another stupid joke about fishnets or something.

Feeling like you’re hogging the conversation a little, you ask him about what cases he’s working on currently, how his doctor program is going, if he has any juicy batfamily drama to share.

He seems happy to do most of the talking, to your surprise. It actually might be the most you’ve ever heard him talk. You find yourself drifting off to the sound of his voice telling you about Duke’s latest romantic blunder.

He tries not to notice how your little uh-huh’s and mhm’s get quieter and less frequent. He clicks his tongue when he hears your soft sleeping breaths, even though he isn't sure if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. Did he put you to sleep because he was boring or calming? Why the hell does he even care?

He clicks his tongue again but at himself this time.

He especially hates how long he stays on the line listening to your breaths.

─⋅⋆⁺𖤐

#damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #constantine! reader #damian wayne x you #dc x reader #damian al ghul x reader #damian al ghul x you

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cipheress-to-k-pop · 3 months ago

Text

ephemeral pt.2

Pairing: Batfam x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k words

A/N: I'm pretty sure I tagged everyone who asked, really sorry if I missed yours if I did

part 1

Six months ago, when you awoke in the hospital after an attack on Gotham by the Witch Boy, Klarion, the nurses informed you that you had given birth to a beautiful baby boy. The only problem was: you couldn’t remember ever being pregnant.

After multiple rigorous tests, you were told that you’d sustained amnesia from a head injury during the chaos. It sounded insane—you couldn’t even remember the baby’s father.

You carried your newborn through the hospital halls, lost and overwhelmed. You had no idea what was about to become of the two of you—you didn’t even know where you lived, and the building where you’d been found had been reduced to rubble.

On your way out, you had the misfortune of passing a specific corridor, clutching Thomas—you didn’t know why you picked that name, it just felt right—to your chest. You watched strangers cry over the loss of their children, their partners, their parents.

You soothed Thomas' soft whimpers into the wisps of hair on his head, covered by a cap one of the nurses had kindly lent you. You didn’t know who you were. You couldn’t remember anything. But Thomas was your son, and regardless of everything, you loved him. You were grateful for him.

At least… you didn’t have to know the pain of losing a child.

And yet—for some reason—you felt like you had lost a child...

That hollow ache in your chest returned as you stood frozen, watching the Bats fight on the rooftop across from you. Killer Moth and Firefly, wreaking havoc with their signature chaos and flames. You were stuck on the roof, having barely escaped with Thomas in your arms when the lobby of your building had caught fire, trapping you above the inferno.

You watched as Red Hood tried to subdue him, cowering at the edge of the rooftop, holding Thomas so tightly that he began to squirm in discomfort but you didn't yield your grip.

The flames were slowly crawling up the building and you were beginning to sweat, feeling tears well in your eyes and a punch to your stomach every time you watched Red Hood receive a punch from Killer Moth.

And then—everything happened—all at once.

Red Robin landed on the rooftop in a blur of red and black, his voice sharp yet calm as he called out to you, “I’m here to get you both out of this. Stay with me.”

But before you could even process his words, Killer Moth lunged—his grotesque figure diving straight for you and Thomas.

It happened in slow motion.

A sharp intake of breath. The weight of Thomas in your trembling arms. The sickening realization that you couldn’t move fast enough.

But then, a streak of leather and metal crashed into Killer Moth mid-air. Red Hood tackled him with brutal force, the two of them colliding before tumbling over the edge of the building.

A scream left your mouth before you had any idea what was going on—

"JASON!"

You wanted to scream and cry in Red Robin's grasp as he carried you off to another building, grappling away. You needed to see if Red Hood was okay—you didn’t know why, but you had to make sure he was unhurt. You couldn't lose him—not again.

If it wasn’t for the crying baby in your arms, you would’ve kicked and wailed.

You don't know what happened in the next couple minutes, it felt like you had been blown in every direction by the wind until you found yourself in the Batcave surrounded by the remaining bats.

Even though they were trying to be subtle, you could still hear their whispered discussions. You weren’t supposed to—after all, they were the Bats, trained in the art of silent communication—but somehow, you could pick up on their words with ease. It was almost like you had been trained for it yourself.

Batman was asking Red Robin how he could bring you here, and Red Robin responded without hesitation, How could I not?

You clutched your baby closer to your chest, seeking comfort in his warmth as an odd sense of familiarity settled over you. The Batcave, with its cold metal and dim lighting, should have felt foreign, but instead, it gnawed at the edges of your mind like a memory just out of reach.

Your eyes flickered around the cavernous space, noting little details that made your stomach twist with unease.

Someone had moved the giant coin. It was supposed to be behind the dinosaur.

Wait.

How did you know there was a coin there?

You looked around, your gaze bouncing between faces, between artifacts, between things that all felt like pieces of a puzzle—except you had no idea what the completed picture was supposed to be. You could only sense when two pieces fit together.

Then, Robin stepped forward.

“Ummi?”

Your brows furrowed. That word—Ummi—why did it feel like you had heard it so recently? Your mind waded through the fog, and behind the haze, a vision emerged. A small figure in green, no taller than the boy standing before you. Sharp eyes. Determined stance.

Where had you seen him before?

Your gaze drifted again, sweeping over the others.

Nightwing. Red Hood. Red Robin. Robin.

Four boys.

Four Robins.

Why did that feel so familiar?

Robin hesitated, his usual sharp confidence laced with something vulnerable.

“Ummi… do you recognize me?”

Your mouth opened—then closed.

Your lips trembled as your heart pounded against your ribs.

You wanted to say yes.

But the words wouldn’t come.

"Ummi! It's me!" He stepped forward again, grabbing your hand and this time it was Red Hood that stopped him, grabbing him by the shoulder.

"Robin, stop it, we shouldn't force mo—her."

"Damian." You whispered and the cave fell silent. All of the boys—your boys—turned to you with expressions of shock. Damian had frozen in his place, watching you with stinging eyes that had widened behind the domino.

"You were—" You gasped, "You were the boy at the park."

He took a step closer to you and it was like all your memories had began to flow back into your brain, like something had finally been unlocked after so long.

Damian reached for you but stopped himself short, almost like he was afraid that you would evaporate into thin air if he touched you.

"I knew it," You gasped, choking on tears, "I knew I had known you from somewhere. My soul knew my baby's precious face anywhere."

His expression that had been so full of longing that day, looking painfully at the person that he wanted but could not have.

You remembered not that long ago, he had been staring up at you with a very different expression...

"Ummi!" Damian ran up to you, a photo frame clutched in his arms. Before you had gotten pregnant, he would have collided with you like a rocket, giggling if you managed to catch and lift him in time or breaking into peals of laughter if he ended up knocking you off your feet.

Since your bump had become noticeable, he had been extremely gentle, refusing even to hug you too tightly. As he neared you, he slowed his sprint in the last few feet, his smile bright with excitement as he clutched his gift to his chest.

"I have a gift for the baby." He announced.

You smiled down at him, gently running your fingers through his hair and scratching his scalp. He leaned into your touch, standing on his tiptoes as you bent down to press a soft kiss to his forehead.

"Oh, really? May I see it?"

He handed you the picture frame, revealing a beautiful watercolor painting of a group of robins perched on a branch. At first glance, they looked nearly identical, but upon closer inspection, each one was unique. The largest of the four had a lone white feather on the top of its head. Another had soft yellow shading on its wings. A third, with a faint blue tint in its shadow, gazed at the others as if watching over them. And finally, the smallest robin, speckled with green, soared through the air, as if looking down on the remaining three.

Your fingers gently traced over each robin, and in them, you saw the faces of your sons superimposed. Turning to your youngest with a grin, you said, "It's beautiful, Dami."

His smile turned a little shy, "I was hoping you'd hang it in the nursery, so the baby always has his brothers looking over him."

Your eyes misted, and while Damian might have blamed it on the hormones, his thoughtful gesture was what truly moved you beyond words. You hugged and kissed him once again.

"Why don't we find the perfect place to hang it right now?" You suggested.

Hand in hand, he followed you to the nursery, his excitement matching your own.

It felt like you were underwater, body feeling weightless all of a sudden that you couldn't control your shaky legs and you tumbled to the ground.

Luckily, Jason was there to catch both you and Thomas, always there as a reliable shadow your you and your youngest to rely on. You looked up at him, realizing how painful it must have been for him to stand back and watch you walk away that day in the rain.

A memory trickled back to your head...

"I'm sorry I couldn't attend the baby shower, Ma." Jason apologized, sitting beside you on the couch. Your hands were neatly folded over your bump and you gave him a gentle smile, running your hands through the cute little white streak in his hair. Jason insisted he had them before the viral 'money pieces' began making waves on social media and that he was the 'OG'—whatever that meant.

"It's okay, baby. It was just for PR anyway. I know you wouldn't have had fun around all those fuddy-duddies."

Jason gave you a half-grimace, half-chuckle. Ever since you had found out you were pregnant, you had insisted on avoiding bad language, claiming that the baby could hear you—or at least pick up on the bad vibes. Alfred had taken to this with great pleasure, always the promoter of the idea that "swearing shows you have poor verbal skills."

"I'm just lucky I was able to play the pregnancy card and turn in early. Your poor father is still entertaining them."

"Oh, yeah I was wondering where he was; he's usually stuck to you like a barnacle unless he's on patrol."

You chuckled at this; he wasn't wrong. Ever since you found out you were expecting both father and sons have been following every single step of yours. You'd be heavily disturbed if you didn't know this was their way of showing you their love and devotion. In fact, the only reason Damian wasn't currently beside you was because it was past his bedtime.

"Anyway, I just came here to give you this." Jason placed his gift onto your lap and you glowed at the sight of the adorable baby blanket. It was grey and patterned with bats. You chuckled, looking it over and feeling the soft material, wondering if he had tried and failed to find one with his own logo on it.

"It's wonderful, Jace, thank you. We love it." You smiled, patting your belly. Jason returned your grin, pecking your forehead instead of reaching for a hug to prevent you from moving. He knew just how long it would've taken you to find a comfortable position.

"I monogrammed it too." He revealed, unfolding the blanket and showing you the corner of the blanket that had a neat 'T.W.' embroidered into it. Your fingers daintily traced over the letters. Currently, only family knew that you were having a yet another son and that you had already picked out his name. 'Thomas Wayne' after Bruce's father, of course.

"I did it myself." He admitted bashfully, scratching his hot cheeks and you simpered, holding it to your chest.

"I love it."

A fresh wave of tears came to your eyes as you realized the blanket was probably burned to ash along with your other belongings. Thomas began crying in your embrace but your hands were shaking too much for you to soothe him.

"I've got him, mom." Dick lulled, taking the baby from your arms. Usually, you wouldn't have handed over your baby to just anyone. But this was your son, your oldest.

He held him to his chest, rocking his baby brother in his arms, "Hi, Thomas. I'm Dick, your biggest brother. It's so great to finally meet you."

Dick released a shaky breath, pressing his nose to his chubby cheek. Thomas didn't fret or fuss, holding onto the pocket of Dick's shirt in a tight fist, staring up at his big brother with wide, curious eyes.

Your heart clenched at the sight of his muscles subtly flexing as he fought the instinct to hold Thomas too tightly. It saddened you that he was only meeting Thomas now, especially when you remembered just how excited he had been to meet his little brother...

Dick stared at you and Bruce apprehensively as you both gave him nervous grins.

“Dickie, we have something we want to tell you, and since you’re the oldest, we wanted to let you know first.”

Before you could get another word out, Dick was already interrupting.

“Oh my god, tell me you guys aren’t getting a divorce. I know I don’t live with either of you, but I couldn’t stand it.”

Your brows furrowed. What on earth gave him that impression?

“What? No, baby, we’re not getting a divorce.”

Dick let out a dramatic breath of relief, placing a hand over his chest—only for his expression to shift into horror a second later.

“Oh my god, please don’t tell me you’re inviting a third into your marriage. I know I don’t live with either of you, but I really couldn’t stand that either.”

“What on earth—no! Nothing of the sort is happening,” you said, exasperated.

Bruce sighed beside you, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Richard.”

You pointed at Dick before he could launch into another wild theory. “Richard Grayson Wayne, let us finish what we have to say.”

Bruce finally spoke up, “You’re getting another younger sibling.”

Dick blinked. His mouth opened, then closed as his brain processed the words.

“You’re adopting another kid?!”

“Not quite,” You replied.

His eyes narrowed as he turned to Bruce, suspicion laced in his voice, “Someone else stole your DNA and made another bio kid?”

Bruce gave him a flat look, but before he could answer, you smirked, “I wouldn’t say stole it… more like he gave it to me.”

You watched as the gears turned in Dick’s mind. His sharp blue eyes drifted downward, finally noticing the way your hand rested on your stomach.

The realization hit him like a truck.

His expression morphed from confusion to absolute bewilderment, “Ew! You both have sex?!”

You and Bruce gaped at him.

“Richard!”

Bruce groaned, running a hand down his face, while you sputtered out a laugh.

Dick’s horrified expression held for only a second longer before it cracked, melting into a wide grin. He let out a laugh, shoulders shaking.

“I’m just messing with you guys.” His voice softened as he stepped forward, pulling you into a hug, “I’m so happy for you! Congratulations, Mom.”

You hugged him tightly, your fingers running soothingly through his hair as you kissed the top of his head.

“You’re such a great big brother already. I just know this baby is going to love you.”

You caught a glance of Timmy standing beside him, waiting patiently for his turn with the newest member of the family and you sobbed into your hand recalling the way he watched you through the rear view mirror of your car that day at the grocery store.

He was always left on the sidelines, just waiting.

"Why didn't you tell me then, my baby? Why didn't you bring us home?" You cried, pulling him into your arms and running your hands through his hair.

"We thought you'd be safer this way." Tim explained, "Klarion was going to stop at nothing to get to us. We didn't want to push you away, but when you woke up with no your memory of us, we thought—we thought—"

Your poor baby, always thinking of others, always thinking of what was best for you...

You should have known.

The one day your husband and sons were given a rare, mandatory day off—to relax, take care of themselves, and maybe catch up on much-needed sleep—you should have known Tim would go the other way.

With the Batcave under strict lock and key for the night unless there was an emergency, it was only a matter of time before he got restless. Which was precisely why he stormed into the theater room, tablet in hand, while you were curled up against Bruce’s chest.

“Okay, so I did my research, and I’ve optimized the most optimal hospital bag for when you go into labor.”

You lifted your head off Bruce’s chest in surprise, barely registering the way he paused the movie. If you were being honest, you weren’t really watching it anyway. You had been too focused on the steady rhythm of your husband’s heartbeat, the warmth of his arms around you, and the quiet intimacy of just existing together.

“Tim, honey,” You said gently, “we don’t need a hospital bag yet. I’m only four months along.”

“You can never be too prepared,” He countered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “Now, experts recommend having a detailed but brief birth plan so any emergency doctor can read it and get caught up quickly. We should probably discuss what we’re going to do.”

You shared a glance with Bruce, amusement flickering between you.

Then, turning back to your third son, you opened your arms invitingly, “Come here, Timmy. Let’s look at it together.”

Tim made no qualms about settling into your lap, angling the tablet toward you as he began scrolling through his meticulously compiled notes. You hummed softly, your fingers carding through his hair, rubbing gentle circles against his scalp.

At first, he kept talking, rattling off statistics, expert recommendations, and contingency plans—but soon, his words began to slow. His blinks stretched longer, and before you knew it, he had completely passed out, his breathing deep and even against you.

You huffed out a quiet laugh, looking at Bruce, whose lips curled into a knowing smirk.

“I hope the new baby is as easy as him,” You whispered.

Bruce pressed a kiss to your temple, his voice low and amused, “Not a chance.”

Tim swallowed painfully and you brought him back into the hug, patting his back gently as he inhaled deep breaths. Despite everything, you still wore the same perfume, even though your clothes and hair held onto the smell of smoke, underneath it all was the scent of his mother.

Damian joined you on your place on the floor, sliding to his knees in front of you to join in on the hug, the three of you enveloped by Jason's towering figure. You peppered kisses and apologies to their faces, wiping each of their tears dutifully but letting your own skate down your cheeks.

Finally, your gaze turned to the last man standing in the room.

Bruce.

Your breath hitched as you took a shaky step forward. Then another. And another.

You had missed him. You hadn’t even realized how much until this moment. Bruce, your boys—your family—had filled a hole inside you that you never knew was there. And now, standing before him, the father of your children, the love of your life, that emptiness was suddenly unbearable.

The second you reached him, your hand lifted to cup his face, desperate to feel his skin. Then, just as quickly, you smacked him.

Hard.

The sharp crack echoed through the room, snapping him out of his stupor.

“How could you?” You choked out, your voice thick with emotion, “How could you let our boys go without their mother? How could you let me have Thomas alone? How long were you planning to let this go on? You inconsiderate, horrible, stubborn oaf!”

Each word was punctuated by a fist against his chest—not truly meant to hurt him, just a desperate attempt to make him feel everything you had endured.

Bruce didn’t move. Didn’t defend himself. He only stared, his blue eyes wide, as if he was afraid that if he blinked, you would disappear.

You grabbed him by the collar and yanked him forward, crashing your lips against his. Tears streamed freely down your cheeks, making the kiss taste of salt and sweet.

“I missed you.” You sobbed against his mouth, “I missed you so much.”

A broken sound rumbled deep in his chest as he kissed you back, fiercely, desperately. His arms wrapped around you like he was afraid to let go, like if he held you tightly enough, he could make up for all the lost time. You squeezed your eyes shut, reveling in the feeling of being held after so long.

Then Thomas’s babbles grew louder, turning into a full-blown whine. His tiny arms flailed as he struggled against Dick, demanding attention.

You pulled away, breathless, as you turned to your baby, scooping him up into your arms. He fussed, wriggling, still unsatisfied with even your touch.

With a teary laugh, you turned back to Bruce, your smile wobbly but bright.

“Bruce,” You whispered, voice full of love, “Meet your son. Thomas Wayne.”

Bruce’s breath hitched, and for the first time since you stepped into the room, his mask cracked. His hands trembled slightly as he reached forward, brushing his fingertips across Thomas’s chubby cheek.

Thomas grinned up at him, giving him a gummy smile as he began kicking his feet in joy. You were barely able to keep your hold steady on him when Bruce held out his arms and you readily passed his son to him.

He looked down at the baby in his arms, every bit his father's son and Bruce felt the dam break.

His family was whole again.

***

Forever Taglist:

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DC Taglist:

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ephemeral pt.2 taglist:

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cakypa120 · 2 months ago

Note

Billy and Danny are planning wedding with each other because of the observers

They consider Billy as a champion of magic to be too powerful by himself

And they consider Danny as the Ghost came in ancient space is being too powerful to be by himself

So they're married each other because apparently they balance each other out

Could Justice League because of this thing it's an arranged marriage that both of them are really unhappy with

It just them being unhappy with the observers especially Danny this could be tied in with the reverse Persephone thing

Like Billy is really happy with it because the gods are all supportive and Danny is dealing with her the butting heads in the fall of the ancients and observers

I may have misunderstood the question. Sorry(⁠ ⁠･ั⁠﹏⁠･ั⁠)

Marvel: You're invited to my and the Phantom's wedding! *holds out invitations to each hero*

Barry: What do you mean you're not married?!

Marvel: It was just an engagement. You know, meeting the parents and stuff. The Observants were really pushing for us to get married. Something about balance, I think.

Batman: The Observants?

Marvel: Yeah, those idiots.

Danny: *hisses* Why are you jumping in ahead of time?!

Observants: Danny Fenton and Billy Batson may not be married yet....

Observants: But Phantom and Captain Marvel should get married....

Observants: For the balance of the universe.

Danny: *covers face with hands and groans*

Observants: *wait calmly*

That's not how Danny wanted to marry Billy. He was planning something romantic, and only when he graduated. Only the Observers disrupted all his plans. Danny was then grabbed by the arms and placed in front of Billy. Then the Observers said that the engagement had been approved and the wedding date had already been chosen. It was a shock to Billy, but it was Danny who was most shocked.

Phantom: They didn't give me a choice, you know? I wanted everything to be romantic. So that the one I love is really admired. But they bring me to him and tell me that everything has already been decided!

Superman: This is terrible! Why did they do this to you?

Phantom: Like I know. They're all assholes who don't respect anyone. It's good that Marvel understood me when I explained everything to him.

Superman thought that the Phantom was being forced into an engagement with Marvel. And the fact that these two are not very happy about it. Clark now disliked the Observants a little for what they had done to Phantom and Marvel. Forced marriage is always very bad.

While Danny was fighting with the Observants, Billy was very happy that he was marrying Danny. That is, Captain Marvel marries the Phantom. But Billy is Captain Marvel, so it's okay. Today the Captain and the Phantom, tomorrow Billy and Danny. He considered it a victory.

Zeus: I can ask Dionysus to provide alcohol.

Solomon: We want to celebrate quietly, and not turn everything into a binge and an orgy.

Achilles: We should have a fight with the Observants as a competition.

Hercules: I agree. You can also beat Adam.

Atlas: Isn't he our best man?

Mercury: Billy's best man, Marvel's punching bag.

Billy: Guys, we were choosing a menu.

Persephone: Why didn't anyone tell me that my beloved nephew was getting married?!!?

Hades: Run, you fools!!

Preparations for the wedding were in full swing. Billy and Danny were going crazy over the preparations. The league was going crazy about the upcoming wedding. The observers made sure that everything went well.

On the wedding day, Marvel had a lot more gold hanging on him than before and his whole appearance was more majestic. The phantom was blinding in its beauty. A ring of rage glittered on his finger and a crown of fire burned with a green flame. Phantom and Marvel looked great together, as if they were made for each other. As much as the League dislikes this marriage, they admit that Phantom and Marvel balanced each other out.

The ceremony begins.....

....Another alien invasion is taking place on Earth.

It's like a wedding without a fight, right?

#billy batson #dc captain marvel #dcu #captain marvel #shazam #fawcett city #jl #danny phantom #danny fenton #dc x dp #dc×dp #dying sparks

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l0s3rd0wnt0wn · 3 months ago

Text

THE MIND OF A WEIRD BLACK GIRL

CHAPTER 1: "I'M JUST A GIRL!!!"

Platonic yandere!batfamily x Neglected weird black!reader

SYNOPSIS: You're not childish, are you?

CHAPTER 2

3:00 am. I should be dead asleep right now, completely unconscious, but tonight I couldn't help myself. I mean, who passes up an update on their favorite Tumblr fanfic? This fic has got me stuck at my desk for days on end. I keep telling myself that this is the last one and that I'm done, but then out of the blue, an ask pops up from the floodgates, and I'm back on my grind; no Kevin Gates. The blue rays of my computer screen glow against my dark skin. I can feel my eyes getting red and heavy. Another swig of Monster will keep me alive. One sip, and I feel my body tingle. That definitely wasn't good. I can hear my mom's words ringing in my head: "I saw a story on Facebook about a girl who drank so many energy drinks her heart stopped." She really needs to get off Facebook, and I really need to invest in some water. *Ping* OOOH, Leon Kennedy smut? Don't mind if I do! I laugh evilly to myself, clicking the fic with the pretty pink dividers.

*BEEP BEEP* "AHHH!!" I fall out of my gaming chair, my face hitting the cold floor. I rub my eyes that were under my glasses. I turn my head to see the screen of my alarm clock. FUCK! I'm late! I grab my school uniform and race to the bathroom. That's weird. I'm the first one here. It doesn't matter; take what you can and do what you need. I take a quick shower, put on deodorant and perfume, and stare at all my imperfections. My eye bags are getting bigger; that’s what happens when I watch 24 episodes of One Piece nonstop. Taking off my bonnet, I pray my hair cooperates with me now. I flat iron it until my arms go numb. I smell something burning. You know what? Just thug it out. Great, I look respectable. Grabbing my jacket, I run down the stairs. We really need an escalator.

Running into the dining room, I see everyone at the dinner table, no one in a hurry or rush. "Young master, would you like to join us?" The British accent of the old butler made me calm down, only for a millisecond. "Sorry, Al, but I'm late!" I grab a waffle off the table. "What in hell's name are you talking about?" the little devil speaks up. "Damian," his name makes my skin crawl. Ever since he got here, he's been on my back like white on rice. "None of your business, pipesqueak!" I glare at him. Still, my father's icy blue eyes shine on me like an interrogation light. I straighten myself. "Sorry to burst your bubble, [Name], but it's Saturday." I try to hold in an involuntary groan. Every time Tim speaks, it’s like he’s trying to correct me on something. I get it, you're smart; get a life. "I knew that," I huff, the fastest lie in history. "Then why were you running like a chicken that lost its head, and why are you all dressed for school?" Jason says sarcastically, sipping his coffee. His mug has a middle finger on the bottom; it seemed like it was pointing at me. Asshole.

"Well, I was just... whatever." Grabbing a piece of French toast, I go to sit down, but Steph's hand reaches out to cover the seat. "Sorry, [Name], this is Cass's spot." Oh, what is this, middle school? I walk to the other side of the dining table, but both Tim and Damian cover the seat. "This is for Dick." Oh, this is middle school. My blood is beginning to boil. "Great, I guess all the seats are taken. Thanks, team." I snatch a plate of pancakes off the table, walking up to my room. "Thank Allah! I can't stand it when she sits with us. She won't stop rambling about Power Rangers. She's so childish." I hear laughs coming from downstairs. Well, isn’t that just great? So much for a family breakfast. I eat in my bed. I’d rather doom scroll through Tumblr than talk to those losers—those really cool, strong, popular losers. I stare up at the Batman merch in my room. They’re all in order from Batman all the way down to Duke, the last member of the family. I used to find it weird having merch, shirts, and posters of them. I mean, they’re my "family." It’s just odd, you know? But I idolize them; even Damian—fighting crime, saving lives—all that crap. They're cool, but who knew cool people could be so cruel and mean? But let's be real; the family tree should've ended at Duke. I have no powers, no cool ninja training. I'm not smart or athletic. I sweat at the idea of running a mile. I get good grades, but I’m not Tim Drake-smart. I’m not even a Cass-level fighter. Hell, I don’t fight, period. The bottom line is, I’m "normal," as normal as a high school girl who likes video games, comics, anime, and cartoons can be. Other kids wouldn’t call you "normal," but in my family, I’m a saint compared to them.

But that's enough of that. I'm going downstairs to put my food away. Everyone’s gone, just Alfred in the kitchen cleaning up. "Hey, Al, where's everyone?" I say, putting my dish in the sink, then picking up a sponge, ready to help the old man out. "Oh, family outing." Family outing? "To where?" "To see a play, I believe, or a show. Maybe I saw tickets?" A show? "Don't you think it's too early for that stuff?" I reply, my hands getting wet with soap foam. "It's a long play; they had to get there early." Oh really, huh? "Was there a ticket for me?" "I'm afraid not." Oh, just great. Dad can buy tickets for his clan of kids, but not for his singular daughter? Fucking fantastic. My hands stop scrubbing the plate. "Oh cool." I didn't want to sound disappointed, but let's be real—I was. They always do things without me, and whenever I'm invited to things, it's out of pity—like a little kid your mom forces you to play with because she met the other mom, and now you guys have to be friends and hang out by pure association, even if you don't want to. I can see it whenever they're around—going to the theater with Steph, Cass, and Babs to watch some superhero movie, I shout out facts like crazy: "You know Spider-Man isn't allowed to drink any alcohol!" during the Into the Spider-Verse movie premiere. I could feel them rolling their eyes at me. Fake fans. Next time, they didn't invite me at all. Maybe I talk too much, or I’m too childish. I tried to invite Tim to play a fighting game with me. "The MHA fighting game? What are you, twelve? You're so childish, [Name]." He's acting like MHA is a bad anime. I went to their library with Jason once and picked up Percy Jackson. "Look, Jay, they have the whole series!" I looked down and saw him holding The Giver. Oh well, these are completely different books. "Can you try not to read something so childish? Grow up, [Name]." Oh yeah, only middle schoolers read Percy Jackson—it's not like he's a staple of my childhood or that I grew up with Vivra character designs of him, not at all. But it seems like a recurring theme: "You're childish, so, [Name]." "Grow up, [Name]." Maybe that's why I wasn’t invited. I'm immature and childish. Hell, even Damian’s more mature than me, and he's like 14. But I'm not childish; I'm just passionate and energetic, and I like things. I like a lot of things. Is it wrong to enjoy stuff to the fullest? I could never be nonchalant. If I can't show how I feel, then who am I?

"Young master?" "Sorry, Al, just deep in thought." I sighed. He patted my back gently. "You could spend time with me." "You don't mind?" "Not at all." At least there's someone who loves my passion. "You don't mind?" He shakes his head gently, so I spend Saturday with Alfred. It was mostly cleaning and listening to R&B. I never knew he liked Janet Jackson, but who doesn't like Janet Jackson? She's Janet Jackson! We were lip-syncing to Ginuwine: "So Anxious!" The house was clean; time to watch trashy TV—Dance Moms. It's our main show. "No! Why are they dancing like that? Horrible choreography!" I laugh. "You couldn't do better!"

"I have to run some errands; would you like to come?"

"Nah, I'll chill here, thanks, Al."

He pulled me into a strong hug despite his frame and then pulled me off the couch. "Get me something pretty, please!" I screamed out.

"Yes, young master!"

I giggled. If it doesn't burn my stomach in seconds, I don't want it. Flipping through the TV channels like crazy until I hit the news, I saw them all together without me in fancy clothes and coats, smiling at the camera. This was more than a play or a show; this was some kind of event, and they didn't think to bring me or tell me. They didn't think of doing anything to inform me, and the way they were smiling and talking, it was like they planned this all week, all month even. And no one even told me—they didn't invite me; they left me here.

"Dick, where's your little sister tonight?" said a reporter.

"Which one?!" Duke chimed in with a big smile.

"No, I mean [Name]," the reporter said, putting the microphone in his face.

"You know how she is. [Name] is just too childish sometimes."

Dick ran a hand through his hair, laughing. His blue eyes gleamed at the camera. Childish?

"Yeah, she can't go to events like this; she'd lose it," Steph barked out, making Tim chuckle.

"Yes, she's a handful; she wouldn't know how to act around these cameras."

Really, Dad, really? They're all laughing and making fun of me. The same words come up: "Childish," "Grow up," "Handful." I'm not that bad, am I? The final nail in the coffin: "She's so immature." From Damian? Immature? I'm not immature; I like comic books and collect figures and plushies and trading cards. I make cosplays and write fanfiction. That doesn't make me childish; I'm just passionate, that's all. I have passion. I care for the things I like, so what if they were made for little kids and boys to play on the playground? It doesn't mean I can't like it, doesn't mean I can't enjoy it, doesn't mean I can't handle a few cameras or a few mics.

Hot tears run down my face. "I-I I'm not childish! I can handle it! I can be a Wayne! I can grow up! I can!" Who am I trying to convince—me or the damn TV screen? I feel my body shaking. I rip the plug of the TV out of the wall, throwing it to the ground. I run upstairs to my room, seeing the Batman and Robin merch staring at me. "Childish? I'll show you childish!" I wipe the figures off my shelf; they hit the floor, smashing apart. The heads fell off and the wings of Red Robin's suit broke. I smashed the Lego Batmobile piece, scattering it everywhere. I ripped the posters off my wall. "Who's the handful now, huh, Bruce?" I stomped on the poster and snatched a Batman plushie off my nightstand. I took a mechanical pencil and stabbed it; the stuffing pooled out like blood. "I'm not a handful!" I threw it against the wall near Damian's action figures and Dick's.

"I'm not a handful!" I yelled as loud as I possibly could, my voice breaking. I flopped down onto the floor, my legs shaking. I could hardly breathe, staring at the mess all around me. I sniffled and wiped my face gently. I picked up the Batman plushie and pulled it close to my chest. "Sorry, Daddy."

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hearts4mica · 3 months ago

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I can’t fix you

Yandere Batfam! x Neglected Reader

Masterlist

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“How can a person lose their self control?”

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Request!: Hello friend! May I request neglected reader x batman except they break and become the next Joker?

Let's say that Jason killed the original, but given the neglect and outright hatred put onto reader (you can expand on this however you wish!), they run away from the manor without anyone noticing it.

They stumble upon an old warehouse where he stored the Joker toxin, except this version of it was meant to be used on Halloween (as another statement from Joker) and was so incredibly strong that, combined with all of that anger and grief in their heart, reader goes insane and begins to laugh... a lot. Since it was still a very bad hazard to leave out, Batman tasks Nightwing (and a reluctant Hood) to enter the warehouse a few days later, only to find that there are signs that point to Joker being back and having collected a lot of henchmen and a lot of toxin, planning something. So when these two go to confront who they think is Joker, they see reader instead, with the same bloody, scarred smile and hollow eyes.Queue a battle (that reader narrowly loses, taunting both of them with hurtful words that they can't even retort to), and now batfam is trying their hardest to bring the old reader back, except they don't even know what they were like, truly. The only one that did was Alfred, but not enough to know if their rehabilitation is working.

Meanwhile, Batman interrogates reader and the conversation heads south where they go "You never thought of me, Bat. I was invisible, hated and never once given an ounce of attention. I never knew if you loved me. You loved your villains far more... so will you, now? Now that I am like him? Am I finally worthy of your attention?" they laugh, even harder at the horror in his eyes, the grief in his voice while he denies it, and all that the Asylum can hear are spine-chilling giggles and the words of a broken man who's too late to save his one and only normal kid.

Also can I be called 🍌 anon? :D

(Hello Anon! I have no idea why it wouldn’t let me answer your request so i just copied and pasted it here! Here’s your story!)

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Ever since you said no the chance if becoming a hero like them you felt ignored? Like they were disappointed in you.

You were just normal in their eyes. Your family didn’t care about you.. they never did so as soon as you turned 18 you ran away and no one noticed. You’re sure they didn’t even remember or cared about your existence.

You stole some money from Bruce to rent yourself a department in a not so bad place in Gotham but ended up getting scammed so all your money went to waste and now you were homeless.

While laying down on a bench you debated about going back to the Wayne Manor and live a sad life there again but you couldn’t! Your ego wouldn’t let you.

So without any hope left you got up and started walking to an abandoned warehouse. Maybe there’s stuff you can take from there and sell? It’s not stealing if it’s abandoned. So you decided to go in.

While exploring the place you found a so called “Joker Toxin” it was probably a fake one but his fans would pay anything for this. You grabbed the small glass but it was slippery because it was stored in a freezer and it feel to the floor breaking the glass and the liquid fell to the floor.

“Aw shit.” Well it was fake after all so you didn’t need to worry right?-

The moment you inhaled that toxin you started grinning your eyes widened open and your eyes they became red as if you were intoxicated. You feel onto the floor in pain it hurts so bad but you can’t help but- feel happy?

Ha, ha ha HA HA HA HAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHA!!!

You can’t stop no matter how much you cover your mouth trying to quiet down not wanting to attract unwanted attention it seems impossible to you. It feels like someone’s tickling you. You can’t stop.

You pass out a few hours later from exhaustion

When you wake up it feels like something has changed with you. You want revenge you need it.

Now you had to set a trap to kill two birds with a stone.

Comissioner Gordon had notified Batfam about some weird noises coming from an abandoned warehouse that citizens had told him about so he sent Nightwing and Red hood.

He told them to be careful since the Joker might be back because of some signs and to notify him immediately if it was the case.

He knew Dick and Jason weren’t children anymore but be still couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was wrong and it felt wrong to send his children to investigate this. He was trying to become a better fatjer for all his children afterall.

Now Nightwing and Redhood were outside the warehouse. You we’re watching them through a small window getting ready for your grand entrance.

The went in and everything seemed fine. Until you appeared instead of the Joker.

“Hello there!” You say as you step out from the shadows.

They both freeze for a second.

“What? The bat ate your tongue?!”

“Name?-“ Dick says surprised that his- sibling? Was here. Weren’t you 8 years old? You were when he- last saw you?…

“Well yeah but no! I’m now the Joker! I’m his greatest succesor!” Your smile was creepy. It went from ear to ear and it was painted with red lipstick. You had dyed your hair green (and failed awkwardly-) so now it was just black and looked green fungy.

“What the heck is wrong with you?! You know how much harm you’ve been causing? Are you stupid?!” Red hood says.

“Let’s both calm dowwn! [name] come back home! We miss you-“

“Oh stop being a fucking hypocrite Dick! No one even noticed i was gone until now! No way in heck i’m going back to that place!” You hold up a gun.

“Oh so that’s how we’re playing?” Redhood takes out his gun.

“Let’s dance.” You smirk as you shoot your gun towards them.

You end up loosing and they drag you back to the manor. You insulted them in every language you knew.

Now back in the manor you got tied up and Batman was infront of you.

“What a nice family reunion isn’t that right Bats?” You tell him taunting him.

“[name] don’t call me that. I’m you father-“

“HAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA since when Batsy?! When did you ever parent me? When was the last time we had a real conversation?! And don’t call me [name]! I’m the joker now!”

“I-“ for the first time to you Bruce Wayne your ‘father’ had looked at you. Stared at you regretfully.

“When was the last time you thought of me? Was i not worthy of your attention like them?! Is it because i didn’t want to become a hero like you? Are you jeaulous cause i picked a normal life?!”

“I was just busy [name]” his face was full of regret. But it was too late.

“But you were never busy for your villians right?! Now that i became a villian it’s the first time in years that you’ve payed attention to me!” Your smile started fading you’ve couldn’t look weak infront of him! Never again.

“We can change that! How about you quit this nonsense you’ve got going on? We can start this over again.” His child. You were his child. He lost you once. He’ll make up for this wether you want to or not.

Damian watching in the background “This psycho needs therapy.” He mutters to himself and leaves the Batcave.

Now you were forever trapped in this place. Your family was not stopping until you became what you once were.

Honestly they didn’t even know you. They just molded you into what they ideally thought you were.

Your makeup was wiped off. Your clothes changed. Your hair well they tried to save it but since the dye ruined it it had been chopped off horribly.

Daily your ‘doctor’ (Alfred) prescribed you sedatives to keep you in line. If you misbehaved you got a dosis. In the morning a dosis, at night another one.

They told you it was for your own good. They were helping you. You couldn’t harm yourself anymore!

Now everyday felt like on autopilot. You were a zombie in your own body. Your mind was foggy.

And they’ll keep doing this until you become the perfect Wayne they imagined you once were.

“Ha! Joker? What a stupid idea [name]! You never became the Joker! Pftt! Babybird we would never neglect you! You were always a part of us!”

Those small lies. Daily. While being weak. You started believing them.

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Thanks for reading!

My masterlist!

Requests are open!

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ilianasbruce · 10 days ago

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“In the heat of the night.”

word count: 5,626

summary: some wild idea of your Bruce for the night ♡

warnings: full +18 content with a plot. minors do not interact, please

notes: hi, hi!!! ♡ may i present you this wild piece?? there are no limitations for young, husband Bruce and here we go again!! ♡ this can be a sequel to my this piece, but it still can be a standalone, too, i guess. happy reading, my loves!! thank you so much for your support!! kiss, kiss!!! ♡ ♡ ♡

Iceberg Lounge.

A place that you wouldn't cross alone nor did you ever want to be there for hours. According to the things you’ve heard, it was usually filled with Gotham’s double-sided face. Sometimes the higher ranks were wandering around with their glamorous suit and ties, sometimes it was a random thug in the name of working for the Penguin. Either way, it was still for the highest. The same word that involved both you and your husband.

It was not your idea to come here, on a Friday night in scorching July with your beloved Bruce — it was his idea since the beginning. He decided it was good to renew your appreances since the last three weeks, the opera house night. It was a good cover for Batman’s investigation on Oswald Cobblepot, in other representations he was referred to as the ‘Penguin’. There were some vulgar burglaries from Gotham’s highest and illegal trafficking on the Gotham port, and Bruce was cynical about the arrows leading to this peculiar man. Thus, Bruce was rigid about his date night with you and now you were here, your dazzling eyes wandering through the ‘icy’ interior as you strode to your reserved table with Bruce’s arm around your waist.

“What? Are you still angry with me?”

His lips brushed your ear. “You know, I can eat your anger out if you can be a good girl for me tonight.” he continued as he kissed the sweet spot below your ear. God, it drove you mad how he was sometimes nonchalant about his words.

You slightly pushed him with your hand on his chest, earning a stupid grin on his handsome face. He had no shame about the people of Gotham seeing how he was smitten with you, how he liked to show off his obsession, such as casually kissing your bare shoulders or neck as soon as he had a chance. You were still irritated with him since the last few days after his ‘friend’ incident — fucking you with great pleasure for his jealousy and you being confused about his non-existent explanation of the situation and the next morning nuzzling you like a puppy. As if he weren't the one who was responsible for the love bites with stains on your chest and shoulders for the next few days, and as if he weren't the one who was responsible for the soreness between your thighs.

It had been a few days since you’d been giving him a cold shoulder, refusing to interact with him out of necessity. And he was aware of that — aware of your rejecting his morning kisses or your nightly staying-ups for him through the night. He knew his fault with you, but he was slightly busy with Penguin rather than engaging with you. When he told you that you two are going for a date night, Alfred and you gave him cynical glances. It was too easy, wasn't it? But he also added that he needed to ‘look through’ Oswald Cobblepot, and the real picture was revealed.

“Oh, Sir, I thought you finally had a rational thought.”

Alfred was aware of the silent tension between you and Bruce, mainly your irritation, and he was on your side most of the time. And whatever was bothering you, was bothering him, too. Since he had seen Bruce’s devotion to you — Bruce’s eagerness in wedlock with you — and he was happy finally in his life after the darkness of years. But he was also aware of the two young lovers’ struggles during their early marriage years. He was afraid as a father to Bruce and you, that some trivial miscommunication or anything would happen and Bruce would lose his North Star, you, forevermore. It was well known how Bruce couldn't handle his beloved parents’ death, and it was a strangling thought for Alfred that something like that could happen again to Bruce, just him to be goner until the end line.

Bruce was angry and fueled, but he was also arrogant in his vision. Alfred could handle his son, but could you handle him even though he was the love of your life? Your dearest, young and confident Bruce? Alfred was scared, he had no chance at that time of tragedy, he had no power to halt the nightmare but he did have the capability now. And he was no fool for letting the similar darkness cover his son’s life again.

However, Bruce’s intention was really to take you out on a date with his detective vision. He loved you so much, and he was trying to fix his wrongdoing with this rational thought. He couldn't bear to see your lovely eyes avoiding him or your endless love halting to flourish for him.

You, at first, did not want to go out with him, truthfully. You just said ‘I am tired’ that day, well in fact, you were just making a chocolate cake with Alfred from his generational, Pennyworth recipes. It hurt Bruce to see your unwillingness; after seeing your lowered gaze from him to the chocolates in your hand. But he ushered you with his generous bouquets of your favorite flowers after a few hours, leaving you stunned.

“Oh, I think he is very serious about his offer, Madam.”

So, here you were, walking right next to him in your lovely silhouette as you two were accompanied to your table.

“Mr. Wayne and Mrs. Wayne, what a pleasure to see you.”

You and Bruce halted by the voice, turned to see no one but the one and only Oswald Cobblepot himself. Neither Bruce or you had the opportunity to speak to him before, nor Mr. Cobblepot. As he saw both of you, he took the chance to introduce himself to the Son of Gotham and his wife.

Oswald Cobblepot was a peculiar man. He was feared but also respected in Gotham, came from the real Gotham families like Bruce. He was a nobleman outside but inside? Your Bruce was thinking about him lately in his cave.

Mr. Cobblepot gave a courteous bow for both of you, and then asked for your hand. You let him politely and the next, your hand was brushed by his lips.

“We can say the same, Mr. Cobblepot. Thank you for your invitation.”

You withdrew your hand and felt Bruce’s hand giving a soft squeeze on your hip. “My wife was enthusiastic about a refreshment from the heat of Gotham. I thought one of your freezing nights could be a great gift for her.”

You smiled politely when Mr. Cobblepot’s gaze found yours behind his monocle. He gave you a satisfied smile, his eyes crinkling cheerfully. “We are delighted to hear about Mrs. Wayne’s preferences. I assure you that she will have a wonderful night here. I specifically gave the orders for your table, Mr. Wayne.”

He gestured with his hand for you to continue, “Please, do proceed and enjoy the night. I wish it would be marvelous for you.”

In the next few minutes, you were sitting opposite each other, your eyes looking down at the scene of the Lounge. It was crowded, filled with the specials of Gotham and a few notorious ones. Your eyes wandered through the people and the scenery of “icy” walls, the stage where there was a preparation for the singer of the night, and the ceiling from what you could see the gleaming night lights of Gotham and the slightly visible stars in the sky.

“Do you like it?”

Your attention was interrupted by Bruce as he took your hand into his and kissed your knuckles. He brushed his lips on your soft skin lovingly as his keen, bedroom eyes under his thick eyebrows looked at you. He kept his lips on your skin, expecting an answer from you. He knew how to get under your skin, bending your attention to him with his calm gaze.

“I didn’t know I was the one who was enthusiastic about a ‘frosty’ night out?”

You still pursued your stubbornness about your cold shoulder. He sighed and kept your hand in his on the table. “You were searching for every cold corner in the Manor.”

“How — Were you following me?”

You were, frankly, looking for it during the afternoon naps. Wayne Manor was spectacular to you in every sense and you loved to spend your favorite time in every corner of it. But when Gotham was burning, you chose to look for a comfortable corner in your home. And to your wonder, Bruce, as he was supposed to be either in the cave or in his fourteen hours of sleep after his patrols, was obviously aware of your little research. He gave you an unimpressed gaze, his thumb caressing your rings.

“God forbid if I look for you in our house.”

You did not answer his sarcasm, tearing your stare from him to the singer whose voice was now filling the chilly air of the Lounge. Bruce followed your eyes after a few seconds of looking at your features, thinking about how he could win you over.

Twenty minutes later, your drinks were served and you were sipping your mimosa, since you refused to drink alcohol as your husband, eyes on the band. Bruce, slightly opposite of you, swirling his wine spritzer as his eyes were locked on Mr. Cobblepot who was wandering with his ‘suit and tie’ right hand, seemingly discussing something. His blue eyes didn't leave any momentum of ‘Penguin’, watching him until he disappeared from his sharp eyes. It was a great opportunity to use his time, since you were also giving him no attention.

He placed the glass on the table and took your hand for a kiss. “I need to use the bathroom, my love. Will you be alright if I’m gone for a few minutes?”

Your fluttering gaze found his; you knew what he was referring to. You just nodded your head with a small ‘yes’. He gave you a small smile and squeezed your hand. Then, he left your table.

His ‘few minutes’ stretched out for a long, heavy time. You did not realize at first, but no lie, as much as you were irritated by him, even for a mere time — you were still in love with him heavily. Your lovely eyes wandered through the people, the poker tables, or the bar under your gaze. There was no sign of him. You waited for a few more minutes before you left the table.

You walked through the dim corridor of tables, filled with the notorious people of Gotham and the outsiders, drinking your vision with their eyes. You tried to keep your gaze on the way ahead since you did not want to engage with anyone. There were familiar faces at the tables, smiling and nodding at you as you repeated with the same ladylike effort.

Where was your husband? As you descended the stairs, you were thoughtfully blending through the crowd, thinking about where to look for him. You knew he could take care of himself, but hell, where was he? Every kind of high people of Gotham were there, and your lovely but uneasy eyes were looking for your husband. They indeed were the vultures, looking at the little bird of love with a great appetite.

“Would a pretty girl like you want a drink?”

Your eyes found the young bartender as you bypassed the bar. You shook your head with a small, uncomfortable smile as you dived through the crowd towards the washrooms — or you hoped. You did find the washrooms. But also a few, suited men looking for.. something? They passed over you in skepticism, as if trying to find someone that they were now hastily speaking to each other about. You were suspicious of something, turned to go way back to your table but you were interrupted there.

“Mrs. Wayne, are you lost?”

You turned and found Mr. Cobblepot who was staring at you with curiosity blended with irritation. He looked more terrifying when he was in that state.

“I,” you started as he approached you with his cane in his languid movements due to his physique. “I was-”

“There you are, baby. Want me to take you to the dance floor?”

Bruce’s sudden appearance from behind shook you and Mr. Cobblepot. His arm snaked your waist, pulling you slightly to himself as you turned your face to the side to meet his gaze. He looked so effortless, giving you one of his favorite smiles you adored, as your eyes gazed up at him speechless.

“I,” you murmured barely with your lovely eyes locked in his blue eyes, “Yes, please.”. Mr. Cobblepot was looking at you two in confusion but he did not bother to intercede since he was looking for the snitch who was eavesdropping.

“Mr. Cobblepot, you have a good place here. It is quite thrilling for us.”

“Glad to hear that, Mr. Wayne. Pardon me.”

With that, he left you two alone. You thought you were supposed to go to the dance floor but in the blink of an eye, Bruce guided you to the ladies’ restroom. He made sure that there was no one inside before pulling you in and locking the door after you.

“Where were you?” you asked him quietly before he pressed you to the door. He kissed your lips for a peck, murmuring the words on them.

“Me?”

“Yes.” you breathed out when his cold palms found your skin under your satin, thigh-length dress. He pecked your lips again with “Why? Did you miss me?”.

“They,” he pressed another kiss on your lips, “were looking for you?”. You let him kiss you as much as he wanted since he was only thinking about it as you realized. He slowly had his lips on you, sweetly taking every second. After a few seconds of his pleasure, you softly pushed him for both air and an answer.

“Were they looking for you?” you murmured to his lips as he gave you a disturbed gaze in the eyes. “Were they?” he muttered, eluding your inquiries before kissing you again. This time, he was a bit rougher with you. You let a softest moan to his mouth as his hand went higher than before.

You did not want him to have his way with you smoothly as always. You were supposed to be giving him a silent treatment; you were trying but it was challenging when he was orbiting around you like this. You did not let him touch you since that night, always slept away from him on the bed. But he was almost daring you in this situation. When he broke the kiss for a breath for you two, you whispered to him as he had pressed his forehead to yours.

“Bruce,” you breathed out, “Someone’s gonna come on us.”

“Don’t worry,” he muttered to your lips, ready for another kiss. “I’ll make no one will.”

Your attempts were futile. He kissed you as he longed for, over and over again with soft bites of your bottom lip. He let his tongue devour you, letting you melt in his mouth while his fingers fiddled with the waistband of your liliac, lacy panties under your dress.

His lips, after leaving you breathless, found your jaw, then your neck. He kissed every inch of your soft skin, breathing in your floral scent. Your fingers went to his shoulders, holding onto him. When he bit your neck, you hissed his name since it’d leave a stain without any concealing and that was the last thing you wanted this night. He just kissed the same spot and licked your skin next.

You were flushed, breathing in the mild air of the washroom, as he kissed your bare shoulders after pulling the straps off them. You thought he’d just fuck you for one round, then you’d leave this madness but no. A thought was spiraling in Bruce’s head for quite time during the day, to go on his knees for you.

He bit your throat and pulled back to take off his jacket. He just threw it on the countertop before coming back to your lips. He kissed you more before going down on his knees, looking up at you from his thick lashes. You were watching him with a warm face, uneasy about the spot you two were in. You just shook your head as a ‘no’, but that made him smile at your loveliness. His calloused hands gently went under your dress again as if he did not want to scare you off.

“Come on, baby, just let me take a bite of my dessert, yeah?” he muttered with a merry glint in his blue eyes, making you already wet from how he looked. God, he was almost unreal — his slicked back, dark hair was now slightly messy from whatever he did before you and his blue eyes were hazy with longing as he looked at you. You felt his fingers go upwards, just through the waistband of your flower-detailed underwear. He elatedly caressed his thumb on the elaborated material, just getting slightly hard in his pants. You were torn between his plea and the possible scandal but he deftly started to pull down your delicate piece.

“B-Bruce, we’ll-”

“Shh, baby, we won’t.” he muttered as he kissed your thigh, peeking up at you from the hem of your dress. “I’ll make sure we won’t.”

Your drip-covered panties slipped through your thighs and were freed from your legs next, finding a way into his pocket. He just put his hands back on your hot skin, under the dress of yours. He pressed kisses to your soft skin, just mumbling as his lips brushed it.

“Don’t you trust me, darling?” he urged you with his sweet tongue. “Me, baby? Your husband?”

His lascivious eyes found yours as he inclined his head slightly. “You know, I’d do anything for you.”

It was impossible to stay mad at him like this. When he was just on his knees to worship you. Your blurry mind was fighting for a notion to get him on his feet to leave here but your heart… It was just beating for him no matter what and he must’ve been aware of his spell on you. His precious girl, how could he not?

As he saw your torn expression on your lovely face, all blushed just for him, he quietly did what he wanted to do. He started to press kisses on your thighs as one of his hands went under your thigh to place your leg on his shoulder to dive into you. You softly gasped at his action and he successfully got you in the position he wanted. You felt his mouth closer to where you were wet.

“Just.. j-just once, baby.” you muttered to the air as your eyes were on him as he fisted your dress for not creating any distraction. “Mhm,” he hummed through your skin as you heard it barely. “Just once.”

Bruce did not waste any time as he reached his destination. He, at first, opened your legs with the help of your knee on his shoulder, then gave you small licks between your folds. You let out a breath, pressing your head against the wooden door behind you. He licked your wetness with a muffled groan and then slightly sucked the tender flesh with his mouth.

He spread you more by your thigh, diving his tongue more inside of your cunt which made you let out a breathy moan, and held your thigh in a grip that prevent you from losing balance. He started with his slow flickers of his tongue, tasting your hot juices in his mouth for good extended minutes. He prolonged his strokes, just filling you with his tongue. He then started to eat you out thrilled, thriving for every second of it. Your eyes were fluttering due to his mouth, and your hands were looking for anything to grip onto. Bruce roamed his tongue between your folds, up and down, some moments sucking them. You hid your mouth with the back of your hand to prevent your soft moans from reaching any possible person on the other side of the door.

The sweat started to form down your spine, as well as on Bruce’s temple as he was feasting on you between your thighs. You couldn't dare to run your ring-covered fingers through his hair to mess it up, yet it was already messy from his nuzzling there. For good minutes of eating you out in a languid way, he pulled your thigh to press your pussy more to his mouth, his slightly crooked nose stuffed in your wetness. He was licking, biting and sucking your soft flesh and fluids with his hungry appetite, making you dribble on his tongue lusciously. You were singing for him softly to the back of your hand.

Bruce gave your first orgasm with his tongue, just his finger on your clit to stimulate you, but his lips that you loved so much to kiss and sweet tongue were buried in your cunt.

You saw the stars, brighter than tonight's. You just remember the feeling so achingly at the moment. It was so thrilling, sending a jolt to your body. Thankfully, your husband was there to hold you because you were a mess from the pressure of his grip and the lazy strokes of his tongue. When you were breathing heavily with half-lidded eyes, looking down at him as he cleared every amount of your euphoric juices between your folds, you thought it was over. But in the next few minutes of Bruce’s good appetite, he wiped his thumb to clear your sweetness on his chin with his eyes on you. The vision of him was almost enough for you to be wet again, but your mind was blurry. Blurry that you couldn't realize his next motives.

Bruce pressed a few needy kisses on your lips, letting you taste your sweet flavor on his tongue, pulling you into his arms. Your arms found his shoulders for a balance but you realized he led you to one of the private stalls along with his discarded jacket. He just pushed you there before he entered and locked it after him. Your mind was too dizzy with him that you did not even realize him unlocking the main door of the restroom. So, it was open to anybody now.

Bruce tossed out his jacket in the corner before kissing you in the dense stall. He just handily altered your positions where he had you on his lap on the seat. He compelled you to straddle him as he kissed you, his hands under your dress on the bare skin.

“Be my good girl, yeah?” he murmured to your lips. “Let me see you ride.”

You were at the moment too messed up. Fucking in the some washroom stall was the last thing you thought he preferred to do. And you knew it was an effort to make him let go of the idea. You were just staring into his eyes with your pretty ones with uncertainty. He knew your inexperience in risky situations, for easing you, he was giving you his bedroom eyes that you couldn’t resist.

“Wasn’t it just… for once?” you murmured to him. He sighed against your lips, pulling you more to him where his lips brushed yours as he answered you. “I won’t leave this fucking room until we fuck.”

You were already flushed and his direct words were much for you, specifically with the fixed look in his eyes. He saw your quietness, so he leaned and kissed you softly. He knew you were scared of some ‘miscalculation’ but he knew better. He promised you about that, didn’t he?

You just let him kiss you, be intoxicated with you as he took his time. His thumb was caressing your bare skin, remembering the softness of it. He let you whimper into his mouth as he pushed his tongue in. You just loved him more when he was kissing so in love, gently coaxing you into him, softening you in his tongue as he liked. When you were breathless, you two broke the kiss, you drunk on him. You pressed your forehead against his with closed eyes, just to feel his proximity for extended moments. But he had other plans.

You felt him fiddling with his belt, the clicking sounds of it in your ears. You opened your eyes to look and found him with creased brows as he struggled to free himself. You sighed and gave in to his dangerous idea, your fingers working on the belt. It took your thirty-nine seconds to free his cock from his trousers, already hard in your warm palm.

He just breathed out a ‘Fuck,’ under his breath when you slowly rubbed the tip with your thumb. He let his head press back to the wall behind him with closed eyes as you grazed your finger on it. He slightly pulled you from your thighs to usher you to take him but you knew better. You just quietly played with his tip.

“Baby,” he muttered with a need in his tone. “Please.” he just simply continued his plea. One thing about him always surprised you that he wasn't playing any games with his requests or his pleas. If he needed you so fucking bad, he’d tell you straightforwardly. And he’d not try to dominate you into his plea. He’d be just good for you to take him however you liked. He was just yours.

“Will you do that for me, pretty girl?” he came back to your lips for a soft kiss. “Yeah?” he guided you with his lips.

“Yeah.” you whispered after one kiss. “Hm?” one kiss more, “That’s my girl.”

You two kissed until he helped you to be in a position to take him. You felt his tip between your folds, at your entrance. You softly moaned into his lips when he entered you. A few seconds of taking him fully gave you a familiar feeling you knew very well. You closed your eyes, letting your head fall on his shoulder as you exhaled quietly, his thickness filling you overly. He fixed the angles of his hips to be buried in you as much as he could, your pussy lovingly wrapping around him. He kissed your cheek before murmuring to your skin.

“Are you alright, baby?”

You hummed before finding his eyes. He gave you just a sweet smile of his and pecked your lips. As you started to move your hips, it was a bit of a struggle for you to find the pace. You started slowly, fully taking him, in and out, with your soft moans. He was just bare with nothing but his length inside of you pussy. It was so perfect, so right as you moved on his cock. He was quietly tensing his jaw for not to make any sound other than his occasional groans.

His hands were on your hips and thighs, holding you from falling as you rode him how you yearned for. You just started at a slow but steady pace, but he encouraged you to be faster with his blue eyes under his creased brows from the pleasure he was having as much as you were. Your scorching pussy had been squeezing him too flawlessly from thrusts, luring him for more of you. You tried to take him as much as you could with you needy state, moving your hips to hit your sweet spots.

Your breathing started to speed up from the movements of your hips before the main door of the washroom opened and a few girls came inside. You were too stunned, halting your hips immediately. But Bruce, God, he was just surprised for a few seconds before he turned back to his high feelings of your pussy clenching his cock without any mind. In fact, he was only surprised that it took so long for someone to use the restroom.

The girls were loud and ecstatic in their own world, not presuming what was happening behind one of the locked stall doors. Your mind was dizzy and alert at the same time but your Bruce knew how to handle you. He just started to press softest kisses on your throat and neck silently as he could (he was very sure that the girls wouldn't even notice your hushed actions, but he knew you were like a deer in the headlights. His lovely doe.), then soft whispers to your ear.

“I got you, baby.” he murmured barely as he skillfully inclined you to lift your hips. Your panicked eyes locked in his but he was effortless — like how he knew how to twist it to his will. That arrogant husband of yours. He, a few times, made you continue to ride him which resulted in your strained moans against his neck. The girls were speaking about a theme passionately to notice your sweetest, softened sounds.

The whole six minutes passed as one of the most dreadful moments in your life. You just prayed they’d leave and no one would enter until you two were finished. Bruce guided you unhurriedly in those minutes, nestling to your skin with his kisses, making you wrap your arms around his neck as he helped you to move your hips. He was pampered in his seat, his thumb brushing on the soft skin of your hip as he was sucking and biting throat, — blooming the faded spots again — while you were holding him dearly. And when the girls left and you were now alone in the restroom again, you caught his eyes. You were speechless but he pecked your lips and muttered, “I told you to trust me.”

You just sighed at his neck in disappointment and he only smiled at himself. He kissed your hair as you hid your face, murmuring a ‘please’ for you interrupted moment. You breathed out in peace, the quiet relief in your heart that you were actually out of sights. It took you a few moments but he got you just as needy as before with his words and kisses in the following minutes, to tutor you to ride him just like earlier.

“There you go, baby, just — fuck — just like that.”

You pressed your forehead against his as you moved your hips with a sheen on your temple as his. He was just burning just as you, in his white, tailor-made unbuttoned shirt in the heat, holding you skillfully as you were fucking him. A whole extended period of thrusting on his cock got you to the finish line. Your soft moans and mewls were filling the dense air between as your cunt was utterly tightening with his thickness over and over again. And when you felt the familiar pressure in your stomach, you just called his name into his ear.

He could feel how your pussy was clenching him, giving him his elated seconds. “Fuck, are you close?” he asked you as he pressed kisses on your neck. “Hm?”

“Uh-huh..”

You felt his fingertips on your clit, pressuring the exact spot got you breathless. “B-Baby..,” you breathed out to his neck. He knew the tone of your voice and the desperation of the moment and did what he usually does. It felt amazing, so dazzling when the euphoria blinded you. You just remember the tight clasp of yours around his neck and the deep inhale of air. The next thing you reminisce about was that you were in his arms, nuzzling into his neck with soft exhales.

You never fully remembered how he came but he did after you with the squeezing of your cunt as you came and your sweet calling out of his name. He came inside of you, his thick seed filling you and now, messy between your thighs. You two were breathless, pressed up against each other in silence.

You felt his fingers tangled in your hair later. He was serenely and contently running his calloused fingers through it. You felt his fingers then pushing your locks on your face, on your blushed cheeks before his hand found your face to angle you to him.

When your eyes met, you two smiled at each other. He softly traced your bottom lip, his blue eyes fixed on that. He then gently grabbed your chin between his fingers to pull you in for a kiss. You shared a few more kisses happily, appreciating them one by one.

“You are a mess.” you whispered as your eyes were lovingly carving his features into your mind. “Am I?” he muttered as his eyes slightly crinkled.

God, you loved him so much.

His hair was messy, his pale cheeks were tinted in the fluorescent light as yours and his stupid smile detailed on his mouth. He brushed your cheek with his thumb, pulling you in for the last kiss.

“We should better be gone, baby.” he muttered to your lips. You just hummed, sluggish in your reply. He just smiled at your mood and pressed a kiss on your temple. “We can cuddle in bed, come on. Unless you want to spend some time in here.”

You let him help you with taking himself out of you and pulling you up on your feet. You two were genuinely a mess, in any sense. It took you twenty minutes to be in ‘decent’ condition, after the refreshment of water and some kisses. Bruce had covered his jacket around you, for your disheveled dress and the love marks on your neck.

“Ready?” he murmured to your temple after a kiss as his arm circled you. You just nodded, thinking about how the hell you will leave before someone notices you two leave the restroom in that state. But as your Bruce said, he’d handle it.

thank you so much for reading!!! ♡

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x reader smut #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader smut #batman x reader #batman x you #batman x reader smut #batman and batmom as newlyweds!!!#bruce wayne x batmom #batman x batmom #bruce wayne #batman #dc comics #♡ ♡

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kitkatscabinet · 20 days ago

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THREE IS THE MAGIC NUMBER

pairing: bruce wayne x fem! reader x john constantine.

summary: you see the way he looks at you and your husband. Constantine's a brat, but an attractive one, you might have to do something about it.

a/n: 18+ minors dni. i'm sorry guys I initially had way more planned but i haven't written smut in a while and i lost steam :(

warnings: handcuffs, m! receiving oral, threesome.

You feel the way his gaze lingers, tracing your curves, fixating on your tits, he's not exactly subtle. Then again, nothing about John Constantine ever was; the man was seemingly without shame, strutting around like a peacock for both you and your husband.

That was the real kicker. Had the foul-mouthed Brit been ogling just you, then you’d have rolled your eyes and moved on. But there was something about the way he glanced appreciatively at Bruce that had you pausing in consideration. You were hardly a stranger to the looks Bruce garnered; he was (in your unbiased opinion) one of the sexiest men on the planet, but John’s stare was downright hungry.

A blink and you’d miss it flush covering his cheeks anytime Batman displayed his impressive physical strength, as if John was imagining that strength being used on him. Not that you blamed him, those were the sorts of fantasies you and Bruce often acted out together.

Bruce clearly noticed it too, and was doing his best to ignore the flirtation stalwartly. To anyone else, he was the picture of nonchalance, but you knew your husband, and hidden behind the veil of irritation was thinly disguised interest. John wasn’t an unattractive man, for all his personality made him as likable as a gnat sometimes, and even if he’d protest vehemently, you knew the blonde was Bruce’s type.

Bruce was loyal; of that, you'd no doubt. He’d never do anything to jeopardise your relationship. He probably didn’t even realise he was looking. You supposed that should make you jealous, but then you’d be a hypocrite, given that you were looking too.

The man had shrugged off his tan trench coat, his shirt sleeves rolled to above his elbows to show off his forearms, almost as if he knew you had a weakness for just that. His hair had become gradually more dishevelled as the night wore on, and he ran his hand through the blond locks in frustration.

Though after nearly four hours of magical research, even Bruce was getting cranky. His patience for Constantine’s flirting and magic as a whole reaching its end. Some of that’s probably your fault, having gone to take a shower around two hours in, only to emerge adorned in nothing but a fluffy robe, tied loosely enough to show off your cleavage as you reclined back in your seat. Every little movement you make draws both their gazes, forcing you to hide your smirk behind the glass of wine you’d poured yourself.

John’s tongue darts out, swiping over his lower lip as you shift, crossing your legs and showing off the skin of your bare thighs as the robe slips lower. Bruce clears his throat, shifting the attention from you, and your smirk deepens at the visible cracks in his composure. The tension in his jaw muscles, the white-knuckled grip on his now-empty glass of whiskey and most damningly, the way his pants do little to hide the beginnings of his arousal.

Constantine chokes when he notices, tugging at the collar of his shirt as he stares with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. You tilt your head, eyes searching Bruce’s as you silently ask, rules?

With Zatanna, he’d wanted to watch, with Hal, it had been a competition between the two men to see who could fuck you better. That instance had left you unable to walk, not that you’d complained, but neither of those dynamics seemed right for John.

In those seconds of silent conversation between you and your husband, John recovers, rougish grin covering his face. “Damn Bats, that–”

Whatever John was going to say was forgotten as you gripped his face, tilting his face up to pull him in for a sensual kiss. One of your hands tangles in the hair on the nape of his neck, tugging harshly. You’re rewarded with a whimper that you greedily swallow, prompting you to repeat the action, hoping to hear it again.

You pull away, giggling a little when John absentmindedly chases after your lips, a dazed expression plastered across his normally cocksure face. Bruce had taken the opportunity to rise, moulding himself against your back, planting gentle kisses over the exposed skin of your neck and shoulders.

John’s eyes follow the action dazedly, nearly bulging out of his head as Bruce’s hands deftly tug on the belt of your robe, helping you slide out of it as it slides to the floor forgotten. “Fuck, love, Bats.” The sorcerer croaks, hands clenching and unclenching on his thighs as he looks desperately between you and your husband as if searching for confirmation that this was happening.

“Problem, Constantine?” Bruce asks, feigning ignorance as one of his calloused hands drifts between your legs. Your hips buck involuntarily, attempting to coax Bruce into touching you properly.

"Don't be impatient," he chides quietly, gripping your waist to keep you still.

John swallows, watching intently, squirming in his seat to try and find a comfortable position. "This isn't a dream, right?" His eyes are still flickering back and forth between you and Bruce, as if waiting for permission.

“Not a dream, love.” You sigh, head falling back against Bruce’s shoulder as he cups your tits, before he starts to walk you backwards. John watches, frozen, dazed as Bruce opens the study door until you speak up again, “Are you coming?”

John practically trips over himself to follow, making you giggle as you reach out, lacing his hand in yours as the three of you stumble into the nearest bedroom in a tangle of limbs and shed clothes.

In a brief moment of lucidity, you mentally thank the stars that none of the kids are home, and it dawns on you that Bruce probably planned this. But then his lips are back on your neck, and Constantine’s sprawled, naked across the mattress, and all other thoughts fly out the window.

The sorcerer’s confidence had returned, his usual cocky smirk back as he takes in the way both you and Bruce stare appreciatively. “What are you waiting for?” He purred, and you pounced, kneeling between his spread thighs and pulling him into a bruising kiss.

You feel the mattress dip behind you, Bruce’s now bare chest pressed against your back once more, caging you between him and John.

“Of course you’re hard already, you little slut.” You and John moan together at Bruce’s words, the blonde’s head falling back with a hiss as one of your hands trails down to his neck, squeezing slightly as your thumb runs over his rapidly fluttering pulse.

John's eyes fluttered shut briefly, a gasp escaping his lips as Bruce's hands joined yours in caressing his body, only to snap open in surprise when cold metal clasps around his wrists and the headboard.

“When did you–” He stutters a little, giving an experimental tug as his fingers flex.

“I’ve learned not to question it, you’ll go insane.” You murmur between kisses you trail down his chest and abdomen. His hips flex, arching into your touch until Bruce makes a chiding sound, a large palm snaking around you to hold him down.

“So impatient, both of you,” Bruce growls, nipping at your shoulder before he tugs you back against his chest, nudging your thighs open with his own.

“Can you blame me, Bats?" John rasped, his voice hoarse with desire. “I see two gorgeous people and I can't help but want to test the limits a bit.”

“Such a brat, someone should teach you a lesson,” Bruce growled, his grip tightening.

John gasped, “I'm all for it, love. Knock some manners into me. Put me in my place.”

"You're a mouthy one, aren't you? Let's see if we can't find something better for you to do with your tongue besides run it."

John let out a surprised sound as Bruce captured his lips this time, biting down on his lower lip as your thumbs ran soothing circles over his hipbones.

“Tell me, Johnny, how long have you wanted this? To be at our mercy?” You coo, delighting in the way his muscles flexed beneath your touch, straining against his bonds to try and reach for you or Bruce.

“I…” he trails off, eyes following the movement of Bruce’s hands as they trail down your sides, one gripping your thigh to hold you in place as the other dips between your legs.

He watched, entranced, until suddenly Bruce was tugging on his hair harshly and forcing him to look into Bruce’s, “She asked you a question, Constantine.”

“I…” He stutters once more, swallowing deeply to try and focus over the sudden sounds of your pretty moans. “Since I first saw you, both of you.” John strains against his bonds once more, aching to reach out and touch you as you grind down against Bruce’s fingers, mouth open in bliss.

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it, Johnny?” Bruce teased, lethargically working you open as you relied on him to hold your weight up.

John, meanwhile, was completely enraptured by the sight before him, powerless to do anything but watch, his entire body tense.

“Isn’t my wife gorgeous?” Bruce hummed against your neck, eyes never leaving Constantine’s face as he nodded frantically. “Use your words, John. Tell us how pretty you think she is.”

John swallows heavily, his throat bobbing as he stares at your bare body “Beautiful,” he manages to get out finally, eyes dragging greedily over your curves. “Stunning,” he corrects, gaze lingering on the marks Bruce left on your throat. “Bloody sinful.”

John watched every moment, his eyes practically glued to you both, his hips arching off the mattress in desperate need for stimulation of his own.

“Good boy.” Bruce praises, nipping playfully at the shell of your ear. You whimper again, pressing your thighs together unconsciously. “What else do you like about my wife?”

John's eyes darken further at the reminder of your status, clenching his jaw. It's almost painful to watch as Bruce caresses you, doing what he desperately wants to. His knuckles are white as he strains against the handcuffs, cock twitching.

“Everything,” John pants, his gaze flickering from you to Bruce and back. “Bloody everything.” His eyes rove over your body again, drinking in every inch as if he wants to commit you to memory.

“She's perfect. So bloody perfect,” he breathes, his words ending on a note between a laugh and a moan. “And smart, so bloody clever. And a mouth made for–” He sucks in a sharp breath, cutting himself off, still a little unsure of the boundaries.

Bruce chuckles, his breath warm against your neck. “She is quite good at that,” he murmurs. “Always eager to be a good girl. Aren’t you, baby?”

You nod desperately, whining when Bruce retracts his fingers, only to eagerly slide them into your mouth, tongue swirling around his digits before he pulls them free with a pop. “Why don’t you show Johnny how good you can be?”

Bruce slides back, allowing you more space to lean down, arching your back as you stare up at John. “You look so pretty like this, Johnny,” you hummed, “All tied up and wanting.”

John shivered under your touch. “Please, love”, he begged, his voice cracking with desperation. “I need– Fuck!” He swears, throwing his head back when you suddenly take him in your mouth. You hum in amusement, the vibrations making John see stars.

The taste of salty pre-cum on your tongue was as intoxicating as the sight of him beneath you, his body trembling with need. “God, you're delicious,” you murmured.

His fists clench, teeth digging into his lower lip as your hands migrate to his hips, preventing him from thrusting into your mouth as you slowly swirl your tongue around his leaking tip. All the while, your eyes never leave his face, relishing in the way his cheeks flush, sweat dripping down his temples.

“Look at you, so needy,” Bruce said, leaning over to capture John’s earlobe between his teeth. “Such a pretty little slut.” You hum again in agreement, and John jolts beneath you.

“Fuck, darlin, if you keep that up m’not gonna last.” He pants, too blissed out to be embarrassed at how quickly he’s about to cum from the glorious sensations your warm mouth provides.

It’s your fault, really, for teasing him so relentlessly, leaving him aching for your touch over the past few hours.

Your only answer is taking him deeper into your mouth, head bobbing as your nose brushes against his pelvis, one of your hands moving to grip his ass. “Christ!” He hisses, heels digging into the mattress as his thigh muscles tremble.

Suddenly, there’s a hand on the back of your neck, tugging you back upright against Bruce’s chest, causing you and John to let out whines of frustration. “Not yet. You haven’t earned it.” Bruce grunts, sliding his cock between your wet folds, barely giving you any warning before he lifts your hips before practically slamming you down.

John's eyes go wide as he watches you sink down on Bruce, a sharp gasp escaping his lips at the sight, unable to look away from the erotic display before him, his body still burning from the orgasm he’d been denied.

"God, you two look so good," he groaned, his voice hoarse and low. He wanted more than anything to touch himself, to touch you or Bruce, something, anything to help relieve the ache.

One of Bruce’s hands slinked around to rub at your clit as he roughly bounced you up and down on his cock like a ragdoll, your head falling back against his shoulder, mouth open in ecstasy.

The sight of you, head thrown back in pleasure, was almost too much for John to handle. He was straining against the cuffs, his wrists undoubtedly bruising. “You cruel, beautiful people,” he groaned, “Making me watch but not letting me touch... It's torture.”

“You deserve a little torture, don't you think?” Bruce asked, his tone playful, but slightly strained as he maintained his pace. “You've been such a brat, after all.”

“I... please... I'll behave,” John promised, his words coming out in ragged pants. His pride long forgotten in his need to cum.

You moan loudly at his words, and Bruce’s rhythm falters a little, showcasing a crack in his composure. It seemed John wasn’t the only one worked up from tonight’s teasing.

As pretty as John looked, you decided to take pity, wanting nothing more than to have him in your mouth once more. You leaned forward, your breath ghosting over the tip of his cock. Bruce doesn’t stop you, and you take it as all the permission you need, your tongue darting out to tease the sensitive head of John’s cock.

Bruce leaned over your back, watching, mesmerised by the sight. “You look so pretty with your mouth full,” he muttered, his hands groping your tits and ass, each thrust pushing you further down John’s cock.

“Please, please, please,” John panted, his body arching, “Bruce... I can't, I can't…”

“You will,” Bruce replied, his tone brooking no room for argument. His eyes were dark as he watched you take John's length deeper, his gaze flickering from your mouth to the way the blond was begging beneath you. “You'll be patient, taking what we give you, and you'll be damn grateful for it.”

Suddenly you pulled off John with a pop, moaning desperately “Bruce, baby, need to cum.”

Bruce’s hips stuttered, his hand moving to gently cradle your cheek. “Yeah, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice low and rough.

You nodded, your words nothing but a needy whimper. "Please," you begged, barely even able to say that.

“Alright, baby. Since you asked so nicely…” He grunted, smacking your ass before his hand slid around your front, middle finger providing the perfect amount of pressure on your clit.

John, however, groaned in protest, “And what about me?” his frustration evident, brattiness slipping back into his tone. “What about what I need?”

“Thought I already told you to be patient, Constantine.” Bruce growled, before a wicked smirk crossed his face, “Besides, kids are out of the house for a few days, we’ve got all the time in the world.” John whimpers at the thought, though the sound is drowned out as you cum with a wail, slumping against his chest.

Bruce, however, is far from finished. If you and John wanted to tease him, then you’d deal with the consequences.

#x reader #dc x reader #bruce wayne x reader x john constantine #john constantine #bruce wayne x reader #female reader #bruce wayne x john constantine #john constantine x reader

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chernobog13 · 1 year ago

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Cover artists: Jack Burnley - #20, 23 & 27 (both with Charles Paris); Win Mortimer - #54.

I love these early World's Finest Comics covers with Superman and Robin messing with each other (sometimes with an assist from Batman).

This was the period before Superman and Batman and Robin actually teamed-up inside the book, which was an anthology title, but they shared every single cover. The covers usually showed the three pals having fun playing baseball, or basketball, skiing, going to the swimming hole, or other activities boys liked to do.

Inside Superman and Batman (with Robin) had solo stories, along with whatever other characters were featured.

It wasn't until Superman (vol. 1 ) #76 (May, 1952) that Superman and Batman actually met in a comic book story, and accidentally learned each other's secret identity at the same time.

And they wouldn't begin teaming-up in World's Finest Comics for another two years, in #71 (July-August, 1954). As a cost saving measure, the book's page count was cut, along with the anthology format. The editors decided to put their most popular characters together in the one story there was room for, and a tradition was born. The Superman-Batman team-ups would, except for a short period around issue #200, be the format of the book until it was cancelled in 1986 with issue #323.

#World's Finest Comics #Superman #Batman #Robin #DC Comics #Golden Age comics #Jack Burnley #Charles Paris #Win Mortimer.

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timmydraker · 10 months ago

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CW: use of R word

Tim who, as much as he doesn’t want it to be true, is a poster boy for typical Neurodivergence. He’s more logically thinking that emotionally and needs obvious signs of someone’s emotional state that he can put together to understand how he should respond to help them.

But that’s not what bothers him because that doesn’t bother his parents.

Instead it’s his passion, though not in technology and detective work as they quickly found use for that in their business, but for bugs.

Ever since he was a kid Tim has been enamoured by insects and arachnids and even fungi. He would only read books that talked about bugs or had one on the cover, but since it helped him learn to read at a steady pace his parents didn’t mind.

At least, not at first.

When Tim got into coding just so he could make his own little web-journal for all his bug finds, they were happy he was learning how to organise and structure at just six years old, but when he only did those things regarding bugs…

Tim had his first panic attack when he watched his father pick up his terrarium filled with Diapheromera Femorata (Stick bugs) and chucked it into the bin. The glass shattered as the corner his something hard and he was forced to watch his bugs struggle to navigate the glass and rubbish, most of them injured.

His mother had gagged when she saw them and demanded the whole bin be burnt with the bugs still inside.

Tim had been so heart broken, but mostly confused. His parents traveled the world to dig up dirt and old items that were mostly the same yet they didn’t like bugs?

When he asked one his Nanny’s she gave him an answer that he would never forget, “Well, you see… only those people like bugs, y’know? The… special ones, like re-“

Tim never even let himself think of the last word she spoke and from then only forced himself to only focus on his computer work. He still loved photography but now he took photos of skylines and trees, not the beautiful beehive a few yards behind his house or the spider webs that sat between branches like art works. He took photos of Batman and Robin and for a long time that was enough to make his longing bearable.

If he still followed several pages and articles about bugs either a secret email account, that didn’t matter.

His parents were happy with him even if they still made remarks about his ‘stupid little fixation’.

It’s when they are going over the paper work for Bruce to be Tim’s legal guardian while they weren’t home with Tim’s older brothers hanging around as moral support (bodyguards) that his parents mock him.

Janet is signing some paper with a stupidly expensive pen and chatting to no one in particular when she says, “You’re all lucky we killed this nasty little bugs of his so you don’t have to deal with them.”

Everyone else in the room freezes, beside Jack who huffs a laugh and adds, “Good thing we did, he’d probably be more of a retard otherwise- talking about ‘habitats’ and bloody spiders.”

All of the members of the Wayne family are dead quiet as Tim sits there with a clear look of disassociation coming into his eyes. Alfred has a calm look on his face that tells all who know him that he’s furious and Bruce is strikingly similar.

Jason looks ready to attack and Dick isn’t even moving to stop his brother or calm anyone down.

Damian is holding onto Titus’s collar like a lifeline but seems to give the hound some kind of silent order as the usually calm dog begins to growl low and dangerous.

Jack and Janet tense and stare at both dog and master, Jack ordering him to control his dog.

Bruce stands, letting Titus growl and taking the half signed papers and throwing them in the bin, “I changed my mind, I will be taking you to court for full custody of my son. Leave my house now so I may obtain a restraining order.”

Janet genuinely flounders for a moment and begins to shout about outrage and audacity but when Dick sees that Tim is starting to cry he stands up and reminds them that he is a cop before moving to pick up his second youngest brother and leaving the room.

Tim doesn’t hear much else, only muffled shouting and the sound of a door slamming.

He distantly realises he’s in the family room, not the one they use to have guest but the real one with beanbags and a snack draw, and is being cradled by his brothers. Even Damian is beside him, holding onto his hand tightly as they wait for Bruce and Alfred.

Tim sobs into Dicks chest for Alamos a whole hour before settling more, Bruce coming into the room and Jason and Dick reluctantly hand him over to he can be held by their father.

“Tim, chum, it’s alright. We’ve got you.”

The boy in question shakes his head, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t talk about the bugs I promise-“

Bruce squeezes him tighter and kisses his head, “I don’t want that. What I want is to hear about your bugs.”

Stunned, Tim looks up at him with confusion and barely gets his mouth to move enough to ask what he means.

Dick coos from beside him on the next couch and runs a hand through his hair lovingly, “My sweet baby brother we love you, and you love bugs! So of course we want to hear about it. I’m so sorry we didn’t know how they had been treating you but it was wrong. There’s nothing wrong with you, I swear it.”

Tim sniffled, nodding absentmindedly. They gave him a moment for their words to sink in before Damian spoke up, “Timothy, I demand you tell me about your bugs.”

Jason makes a noise and elbows Damian as if to tell him to shut up, probably thinking the other was being rude, but Tim knows his brother well and just smiles. “I can do that, Dami. I… I don’t think you’ll be very interested though.”

Damian scoffs, “I will ignore that statement as it implies I would waste my time with something I don’t care for.”

Bruce smiles at his youngest and holds Tim’s hand, “I agree. Could you maybe tell us about why you like them? Or your favourites?”

It takes him a moment to respond, but when he looks at all their open expressions and gets an encouraging nod from Alfred, he stutters out a response before gradually gaining confidence as they ask genuine questions to his facts and descriptions.

They each make an effort to ask him about bugs, Jason asking a few times if he wants to check out some books that he knows use bugs as symbolism’s and Dick asking if he can tell him the difference between insects and arachnids several times. Damian and Bruce are both a bit more subtle with their support at first, but after a month Tim enters his room to find a giant terrarium with several different sections so he can have multiple bugs that might not get along with each other.

Bruce and Alfred don’t even make any comments or give disapproving looks when Dick and Jason reveal they each got a tattoo of the bug that Tim said he associates with them.

#batfam #tim drake #bat family #dc comics #batfamily #dc universe #tim drake is red robin #dc #tim drake is a menace #damian wayne #jason todd #dick grayson #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #autistic tim drake #bugs

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prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue · 6 months ago

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New Beginings

-> Arlecchino (genshin) inspired reader ( reader is also addressed as arlecchino) aka ur basically arlecchino in this imagine

-> Jason todd wakes up in a forest , abandoned and confused as he comes to terms with his painful resurrection until he's adopted by someone named 'father' . All goes well until his adopted family finds him and wants him back.

Platonic relationship!!

Jason’s POV

Blood . Blood and the smell of burnt flesh sticks to me like a plague , it follows me like a predator and tightens its sharp fangs around me . I feel utterly hopeless and I wander around aimlessly. Trees as tall as the sky surround me and the only living creature here is myself and death himself . Twigs and leaves stick to my bare feet as I trudge through the greenage . I roamed for god’s know how long but my swollen feet carried me to a lake. I collapse onto the ground and hover above the water - and that's it

That's when I saw him. Dead green eyes stare right back at me , his skin is pale like the dead and his hair - his bloody hair had a mocking white tuff at the front . He - no I scream , filled with pain , anger , confusion , frustration . That is not me - he is not me . My once boyish innocence was robbed and replaced with more manlier features , chubby cheeks replaced for high cheekbones that could surely put any male model to shame but he looks so dead .

His eyes and his complexion are that of the dead maybe because he was supposed to be . In his screaming agony he slammed his hands into the water resulting in him recoiling , the excruciating pain practically ate him alive . He looks down at his hands and he almost vomits . His palms were covered in a deep purplish bruise that practically stung . He lets out another scream mixed with a cry , why - why must it be him ? What did he ever do to deserve such a cruel faith , a faith meant for those condemned to hell ? Maybe this is hell - his own personal living hell . He cries into the grass like a pathetic child as he recalls the distant yet agonizing memory of a bomb ticking and the overwhelming feeling of fire consuming him .

So why - when he was finally put out of his misery did nature drag him back from the depths of the abyssal darkness into this hell . He was just angry - at himself , at the world and at batman. Why must only he suffer ?

He continues crying until he hears a twig snap . Like a wounded animal , he immediately seized his movement and began looking around frantically . The air around him grew cold and quiet . His frantic eyes scanned everywhere until it landed on the figure in the distance . He watches as she approaches him with deliberate steps . He could feel his own anxiousness bubble up within him but still - he gets up , relentless in backing down now . He stalks her , shooting her a glare yet she gives away nothing wearing a blank face.

She stops at an arm length poised. Her white hair dances in the blowing wind yet her eyes - piercing black eyes with a haunting red ‘x’ for an iris - a promise of a terrifying demise . Silence envelopes them both as they observe one another . “ You’re hurt, “ she says with a deadpan tone . Anger consumes him , she is just like him - just like bloody Bruce Wayne , his so-called father , cold and unmoving as if they were above everyone else.

He snarls and lunges at her but she swiftly kicks him in his chest , her sharp heel digging into the sensitive flesh of his back. “ Let go of me you bloody wrench” he curses as he squirms - he couldn’t give up not yet , not ever - he refused to give in. “ Stand down child you are hurt “ she says and to push her point further she presses her heel further into his back. He lets out a cry but manages to grab ahold of her leg and throw her into a nearby tree.

She manages to balance herself by using her heels to ground herself . Jason , seeing this, starts running in her opposite direction . He weaves in and out of the prickling branches - not minding the way they claw into his back and face leaving behind raw marks . He huffs as he jumps over a fallen log but is cut off guard when he hears footsteps behind him . He risks a peak and no doubt - she is following after him .

He huffs - frustrated , tired and frankly done with this ordeal but he continues to dart in and out between the trees . Jason makes a move to dart behind another tree when she leaps in front of him - absolutely startling him to death . He attempts to turn around but she delivers a swift kick to his head and suddenly , he feels himself go under.

Arlecchino's POV

She watches Jason’s crumbled form laid out on the red velvet cushions of the car through the rear mirror . She has no shadow of a doubt that the young boy is a mess but that doesn’t deter the parental instinct of protecting him . This wasn’t her first time meeting a child in such a roughed up state - her orphanage is filled with them but she has never ever heard a child scream in such agony . Before all of this - she was simply driving back home - her children eagerly awaiting her return to start dinner but something in her gut told her to pull aside and investigate . It was highly irrational and utterly dangerous but she was glad she did it because when she stared at the sweet boy laying in her backseat - she knew that she had to take care of him.

It wasn’t too long after Arlecchino arrived at the house of hearth - a mansion carefully tucked away into a tall mountain , vines practically climbed on the limestone walls of the castle-like mansion and its black gates while the black roof wore crow trimmings . Arlecchino carefully manoeuvres her car around the fountain , parking the car in front of a sea of cobblestone steps . She steps out , carefully fixing her coat as a crow flew down and landed on her shoulder .

“ Inform the children that we have a new guest” she says calmly . The crow nods at her before flying off . Moments pass before Arlecchino opens the back door and carefully picks Jason up bridal style . She leaned his head into the crook of her neck and began ascending the stairs . Despite the dreary , abandoned look the House of Hearth adorned outside - the inside was filled with laughter and warmth.

As soon as she stepped into the threshold , she can hear plates and chairs being rummaged around and the sound of children laughing and talking . She ascends another flight of stairs before stopping in front of a door . She lets out a gentle hum and the door is opened by another crow , wordlessly , she enters the room and lays Jason onto the bed . The crow perches on the bed post as it eyes her tucking a blanket over him .

“ Watch over him and summon a healer to treat his wounds ….. When he wakes up please alert me immediately “ she orders . The crow croons as it watches her leave .

Jason’s POV

He grumbles as he sinks further into the warm , soft feeling under him - he feels ease for some reason and then that's when the memories of last night jolts him awake . He sits up - still groggy from sleep as he examines his area . He determines he’s in a bedroom as he observes the dark green wallpaper that covers his room , an antique wooden desk and chair is tucked away in a corner and a matching antique wardrobe and vanity sit opposite the room . The room had wide , white windows that were framed by golden curtains - this was definitely something from those dark academia books he used to read in his youth and he hates to admit it but it's all nice .

Jason examines himself - his arms and torso were wrapped in bandages and he was only dressed in grey sweats . So this wasn’t some sick concoction of his mind - all of yesterday did happen. Jason felt lost - he felt so unsure of what to make of the situation anymore , of his feelings anymore - he’s now stuck in a body that doesn’t even feel like his - nothing doesn’t feel like his anymore - he feels like a puppet just being stringed on by his cruel master .

His inner turmoil is suddenly interrupted by a knock on the door . Jason holds his breath for a moment as the door opens and the same person from last night walks in - Jason observes her , she’s dressed down in a black work shirt and black slacks but her white hair cascades down her face and he finally realizes that she has streaks of black and red peaking through , her hands were black as if they were stained with ink but something tells him it’s more to it , he observes that she wears minimal jewelry and makeup not like she needed any - the woman before him looked ethereal .

“ Good Morning “ she greets him as she sits at the edge of his bed . Jason straightens but makes no move to attack her “ My name is Arlecchino or The Knave but the children of the Hearth call me Father “ She introduced herself . Jason nods , he’s heard of the Hearth , an orphanage for children determined to have no hope or home . “ Jason Todd but I …..used to be Robin “ he trails off . Arlecchino nods . “ I figured you were a vigilante with those reflexes last night “ she says. Jason just nods .

Silence envelopes them. “ Look if you’re going to pawn me off to Batman -” but she cuts him off , “ I’m not pawning you off anywhere Jason , if you choose to stay here or go back to him that’s fine with me , all I ask is that you recover “ Arlecchino says with finality. Jason stills - he feels everything crumble around him - she’s supposed to be fighting no ? supposed to already be gutting him open and delivering him to batman or holding him hostage or hell experimenting on him . Arlecchino stares at him . “ If you are wondering why you’re not in a body bag or what not - that's because mother is no longer in charge of the hearth anymore , although I am not better person but I would not harm a child - albeit enemy or not “ Arlecchino says as she plays around with the singular ring on her hand.

Jason gives her a perplex look , he remembers back in his old Robin days - Arlecchino’s name was #4 on Gothams most wanted - her gruesome murders kept the media buzzing all month around especially when she was allegedly suspected of killing a wealthy pharmaceutical president . He eyed her wearily - she could kill him , he could run away - run away where ? Bruce thinks he’s dead - he was dead - now he's alive and suddenly all he feels is anger.

“ Jason “ Arlecchino calls out as she senses his unease . Jason glares at her . “ What do you want from me - you people resurrect me to do what threatens Batman ? He wouldn’t bloody buy into it because he is a monster that leaves children to die “ he spits out in distaste . Arlecchino looks at him . “ I didn’t resurrect you Jason , I don’t know who or why they resurrected you but I found you and I intend to take care of you until you can take care of yourself .” Arlecchino says firmly .

Jason stares at her . Moments of silence passed between them until he finally asked , “ Why ? Why care so much ?” .

“ Because that's what a good father does , he cares, “ Arlecchino explains . Those words hung heavy in the air . “ Breakfast would be served to you , you are free to explore though it is advised you rest , if you do need me ask one of the crows and I shall come to you “ Arlecchino says before walking out and closing the door to his room softly.

True to her word - food did arrive to him , by a crow , the little guy squeaked before he curled up next to Jason while he ate - he would admit it’s very Harry Potter and it shouldn’t be making him happy . Jason reminisces over Dick , Bruce and Alfred - does his family miss him ? Do they look for him ? Think about him anymore ? All questions but no answers . He munches on his sandwich as he also ponders on the earlier conservations . Does she care about him ? Why should she when he’s a nobody ?

Jason gives up but decides to take a walk . He opens the door and is greeted by a hallway , decorated in an off -white wallpaper and covered in vintage paintings . He carefully walks into the hallway , observing through the same white , wide windows that showcase the delicate greenery outside . The crow eagerly follows him , landing on his shoulder and affectionately rubs against his cheek.

Jason wandered off a bit but ultimately sat on a windowsill and admired the outside for a while - he was just contempt with being alone . He didn't know how long he’d been but the crow began to squawk at him and flew down an opposite hall . Jason follows after the crow down the hall and is introduced to a dining room . A large chandelier hung above them , the room had large open windows that let in light , there were rows and rows of tables filled with kids ranging from all ages eating lunch .

Jason awkwardly walks in . People stopped eating to wave at him or even smile , some even greeted him with a ‘ good afternoon ‘ . Jason approaches a table at the front of the room and there , Arlecchino sits at the head table enjoying a sandwich while being surrounded by a bunch of crows . , his own crow landed next to her and squawked . Arlecchino looks up from the crow , to him and beacons him over . “ Jason, come eat with me “ she invites him . Jason walked over to her and sat in the seat directly next to hers . A plate of pasta appeared before him and Arlecchino beaconed him to eat. Jason eyes it but eats it anyways and god did it taste good .

Arlecchino allows a little smile to show on her face before she resumes to her own meal . “ Jason , this is my son Lyney , Lyney this is Jason our esteemed guest “ Arlecchino introduces Jason to the boy opposite him . He flashes Jason a toothy smile and throws him a card of red 8 hearts . “ Welcome Jason it’s an honour to have you here “ Lyney says animatedly. Jason smiled and nodded . “ Likewise “ he responded.

“ So Jason, what are your plans after recovery ?” Lyney inquires . Jason stills and glances at Arlecchino’s way . “ I plan to stay here …. If that's okay with you “ he asks . Arlecchino raised her brow . “ Jason I already told you that you’re welcome to stay as long as you want “ she says with a matter of fact tone . Jason nods , “ I don’t want to be a burden to any of you “ he explains . “ You aren’t and will never be a burden to any of us “ Arlecchino says with certainty . For the first time in a long time - Jason smiles .

5 months later

Arlecchino POV

It has been five months since Jason has come into our lives , it's been a change - a good change for all of this , I watch from my office window and Jason and Lyney play football in the garden with the other boys of the orphanage - safe to say Jason has adapted to us . He’s still closed off , still a bit awkward but nevertheless doing much better than when he came here . Since the five months per his request , I’ve been looking into his resurrection and so far nothing but dead ends , I’ve heard nothing from his father - or should I say batman ? I’m not entirely sure but last week Jason approached me in my personal office and told me about his family’s vigilante life in detail .

At first I thought he was kidding about the robin thing but it turns out that batman has a habit of having multiple robins and he was one of them . I recall him crying after it thinking I’d kick him out of the hearth - being a criminal and all and the fear of him betraying me but I reassured him that I didn’t care about his parentage or his past , that I only cared about the present.

We made some progress on our relationship and he has taken to calling me ‘ dad ‘ which made me happy . I sipped on my tea as I observed the boys until a crow landed next to me . “ Mr.Wayne in front “ It croaked . I spared it a glance as worry course through me , “ Summon for Jason and order the children to their rooms , all crows on guard “ I ordered .

This leads to now - the Hearth was empty save for Jason and myself in my work office . “ Dad - I don’t know what to do, “ Jason confessed as he paced up and down . I observed him . The moment he came in my office and I overlaid the message my son has been a wreck and it breaks my heart . “ Jason , no matter what I won’t let you get in harm's way “ I reassured him . Jason looks at me for a moment before he nods . “ Okay Dad - I’ll face him". He says before sitting next to me . I nod and gesture to a nearby crow to allow Bruce Wayne in.

Jason’s POV

I watched nervously as Dad ordered the crow to let Bruce in . I was shaking , nervousness and anger course through me at the same time , for once my life has been going well since my resurrection and now - now he wants me ? Now he cares about me ? I observed Dad’s face and I could tell she’s worried and I hate worrying about her because she’s always working so hard and she's always making sure all of us are well loved and cared for . I side hugged her as I eyed the door .

“ Dad, I love you “ I confess. I could feel her freeze under my hold and then I began to feel scared because what if she doesn't want me -

“ I love you too son “ she answered back and squeezed me and I smiled at the mention of ‘son’.

The door opens and lord and behold - in walks Bruce Wayne and two other young boys. Bruce looks at me in shock and worry before he looks at Dad and gives him a nasty glare and I swear it takes everything in me to not punch him. “ Welcome , Mr.Wayne to the House of Hearth , I am The Knave, how can I help you ?” Dad says in a deadpan tone . Bruce is still glaring at her but takes a seat in the chair in front of her huge mahogany desk . The younger of the two boys looks around with a snare while the other just stares ahead in boredom.

“ Let’s get to the chase shall we Knave ? You have my son and I want him back “ Bruce states matter of factly. I growl in anger - Now I'm his son ? I release my hands from hugging dad , ready to punch him but dad places her hand on my shoulder . “ Mr.Wayne , while I do agree that he is your legal son , I found him abandoned and lost in a forest and likewise as a parent myself I took him in “ Father said in a deadpan tone . “ According to the house’s clinic reports Mr.Wayne , Jason Todd was found with third degree burn mark on his palms , a concussion and a fractured rib and severely underfed “ father continues . Bruce shoots her a glare . “ Given your track record Knave , I won’t put it past you for inflicting those onto my son “ Bruce says with a glare . I seethe in my seat . “ You bastard, how dare you accuse my father of abusing me -” I shouted angrily .

The younger of the two boys growled at me , “ Are you stupid ? You are being held hostage by a wanted criminal and you want us to believe she wouldn’t hurt you ?” he questioned . His father gave him a look but made no move to correct him. Dad rubs my back and I look at her - scared because I feel like I’m being taken away from her - from my own family and I begin to feel like the same hopeless broken little boy she found in that forest. I want to beg her - beg her to just take all of us away to a far away land where we can all be happy and together but I know it’s not gonna happen - Bruce will not let it happen.

“ Putting aside our opinions , It is purely up to Jason on what he wants and wishes “ Dad says with finality. Bruce pursues his lips at that . “ I want to stay here with you Dad “ I say as I hug her . She hugs me back and runs her hand through my hair - attempting to soothe me . “ My son has made his decision; you may now leave “ Dad says . Bruce angrily slammed his hands on the table . “ Stop manipulating my son you - wench “ he curses out he says angrily . I let go from hugging dad and immediately slap Bruce , “ Don’t you ever fucking cuss my dad you piece of shit “ I say angrily . Bruce looks at me - really looks at me and I can see the anger brewing inside , threatening to spill over . “ Jason, if you don’t come home I won’t hesitate to lock her in Arkam’s Asylum. “ he threatens . The other two boys next to him nod in agreement - and finally I realized their plan - we were outnumbered and I won’t let Dad go there of all places - I need her , we all need her here . I sigh and look at Dad . “ Son don’t do this I don’t care what happens to me but I can get you and the other’s somewhere safe -” Dad starts but I cut her off , “ No dad - I can’t bear to know you get arrested and tortured in there because of me “ I say , somber . Dad shakes her head , “ It’s my job to keep you safe Jason -” she starts but I just embrace her for the last time - my mind already made up , “ Da I love you , goodbye “ I say as tears run down my face . Dad embraces me back “ I love you too and I will see you soon son “ she says softly , her voice laced in vulnerability . Before I knew it - I was ripped out of her arms and was being dragged down the halls by Bruce .

Dad chased after me but the younger boy threw a smoke bomb at her and then we vanished.

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