#bruce did so many drugs
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on-the-clear-blue · 7 days ago
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Tim walking into the dining room: Oh B, i just realized, happy 5 years sober, I am really proud of you.
Bruce, small smile and sipping his tea: Thank you Tim.
Dick, looking up confused from his bowl of cereal: What? Sober? Weren't you drinking last night at the gala?
Bruce, brows furrowed: Not from alcohol, Chum.
Tim, after downing his cup of coffee: Damn you didn't know? It was cocain. B was on that booger sugar.
Bruce, making a face: Please, never call it that again.
Dick, after his brain rebooted: You...you did cocain?
Bruce sighing :Yes I did...I though you knew.
Dick, abandoning his bowl of cereal: No, no I very much didn't! How did you...like get into that?
Tim: Dick take it down a notch, please? Bruce has been clean for years.
Bruce, shaking his head: It's fine Tim, I should have been more up front with this to the others.
Dick, with his head tilted and still a bit upset: Others? You mean only Tim knew?
Bruce, nodding: He caught me taking a key from one of Penguins supply when he was Robin and forced me to confess, I went to rehab a week later.
Dick, sitting back down in a stupor: Wait...You mean the thing when you were gone for like a few months? I thought you were on a deep space mission with the league! Hell, Uncle Clark even said so!
Bruce, wincing: Y-Yes...I was in a treatment center in Sweden...Tim found them and signed me up without telling me, and had Clark take me there...
Bruce side eyeing Tim: Took my Kryptonite before doing so...and my stash.
Tim, unapologetic, shrugging: Mom used the same place when she was getting off of Quaaludes.
Bruce, shrunching his nose: Never did like downers, made it harder to think.
Dick, having a mental breakdown: So you just...did drugs? For like a while? When did this even start?
Bruce, silent for a while, moving his breakfast around for a moment: It started when I was about...16? When I was in the club scene for a bit I got wild, taking pills and such that I didn't need, it was the 80s, blow was all the rage with the youth in higher circles and...well one thing lead to another and I got hooked.
Dick, holding his head in his hands: Oh my God...Wait.. Were you actively doing drugs when you adopted me???
Bruce, groaning: Yes...Didn't it ever seem strange that sometimes I was very lively and then suddenly was practically dead an hour later before getting back to lively?
Dick, horror coming across his face: Oh my God the signs...
Tim, chuckling: B was a God damn drug fiend, practically snorted half of Columbia.
Bruce, looking scandalized: Tim! I was not that bad...
Tim staring at Bruce:
Bruce staring back:
Bruce, sighing: Fine yes it was that bad.
Dick: uninhorant screeching
Bruce, tsking: I quit a few years after taking you in Chum, I only relapsed when Jason...temporarily passed...and that was only for at most a year, Tim found me out, sent me to rehab and while I have had a few scares, I have been sober for years.
Dick: Happy for you, really but holy fuck.
Tim, snorting: It wasn't the first time I caught you B, imagine little old 10 year old me following Batman and Robin and stumbling across the Dark Knight of Gotham doing a line on a gargoyle while Robin beat the shit out of the dealers below.
Dick, agape: Really Bruce? Do you even remember that?
Bruce, Blushing: i...may have done that more than once...
Dick, crying on the inside: BRUCE?!
Jason, walking in with a smoothie: Oh what are we yelling at B for? I want in.
Dick, wildly pointing at Bruce: BATMAN DID COCAIN.
Jason, slowly taking a drag from his smoothie, before turning to Bruce: w h a t?
Bruce, hiding his face in his hands, sullenly: I trained you all better than this. Yes I did drugs, I am 5 years sober.
Jason, softly putting his smoothie down before walking over to Bruce and patting his shoulder: Proud of you for that, like actually good job, holy shit that is hard. But also WHAT THE FUCK.
Bruce, sighing hard: I thought you all knew...
Jason flopping down in a chair, counting on his fingers: Wait a God damn minute, you got on my case for smoking while doing cocain!
Bruce, dead panned: it's a gate way to much harder things.
Jason, squinting: Who are you D.A.R.E?
Tim, cackling: he was! Did a whole speech about it! Full Batman regalia and was talking about how weed is bad!
Bruce glaring lightly at Tim: It is! It can cause lung damage, a build up of black tar in the lungs and can dull your mind when you are in a tike of crisis!
Jason, rolling his eyes: B, Shut the fuck up you did cocain.
Bruce, sighing yet again: You really are not letting that go are you...
Tim, sipping his coffee: Think of it like this, there is a reason B was able to get back to fighting like a week after Bane broke his back.
Bruce, pursing his lips,: Not the time Tim.
Tim, grinning evilly: Oh no, it is very much the time, I have been waiting till the others knew...I have so many blackmail stories....and pictures
Bruce, a look of true fear on his face: Oh God no...
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prongsx · 3 months ago
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we are not children anymore, honey.
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warning: swearing, a bit insinuating, f!reader, fluff.
where jason needs to remind you that you're not kids anymore and teasing him isn't the same anymore.
1,8k words
You met Jason Todd when you were both innocent children, well, as innocent as the crime alley allowed. He was your best friend, most of the scars he had back then were from picking fights with anyone who raised their voice at you, anyone who tried to sell you drugs or tried to be aggressive with you.
You had an easy body language, both of you touched each other often and played the usual games that children do, physical touch was never a distant thing.
You secretly had a crush on that somewhat reckless and smiling boy who protected you, always holding your hand. Maybe in the back of your mind you thought that one day you would get married.
At the time, he was a little shorter than you, a fact that deeply irritated him but made you laugh. Then he was adopted by Bruce Wayne and you thought that would be the end of your friendship, but there seemed to be a thread that connected you, not even taking on the mantle of Robin could separate you.
Then Jason was taken from you in the most abrupt way possible, by the hands of death itself. But not even that which seemed inescapable separated you for long, the grief that consumed you could have destroyed you, but something in your mind repeated that Jason would never leave you alone.
When Jason appeared at your door, years later, his blue eyes looking haunted, you cried, something in your heart that was dead seemed to come out of the ground in the same way as your best friend.
At first, you simply didn't know what to do with this new Jason, he himself seemed a little lost, the well had affected his emotions. He took up more space, his arms and hands were bigger. Doubts consumed you, afraid of never rescuing the old bond, but then you bought your old favorite cookie and he smiled at you.
That dimpled smile, which lit up his blue eyes and seemed to bring a reckless air to him. And you decided right then and there that nothing would stop you from being his best friend again.
The thing was that your friendship was based on a time when you were both younger and more naive, feelings were simpler. Jason died before you could be friends during that strange time in your adolescence when touching your friend seemed strange, the only memory your body had of your friendship with Jason was a sticky friendship.
"Only you could make me go to the other side of town to get that damn donut that tasted like paper." Jason grumbles, closing the latch on your window as he moves his huge body into your living room. At that moment, you feel the room shrink, and it feels like any false move will betray your racing heart as you watch Jason remove his helmet, his black curls messy in a cute way.
"They're great." You hum, reaching out to take the package from Jason.
"Seriously, there are so many bakeries with better donuts." He retorts, crossing his arms, drawing your attention to the outline of his biceps in his skintight uniform.
"The best isn't always going to be the tastiest."
Jason rolls his eyes at your completely nonsensical choice of words, flopping his tired body on the couch next to you.
"Jason, did you just sit on my couch in your dirty patrol gear?"
"Sweetie, I just walked halfway through this shitty city looking for that donut. I have a right to dirty your precious couch."
You let out a grunt, knowing he's right. He has the right, but that doesn't stop you from lightly pinching the side of his hip, where his suit had a layer of fabric.
He doesn't even blink at your attitude, his hands holding your wrist, his long fingers holding it as delicately as was allowed.
"I thought you gave up trying to play fight with me," he whispers, his voice heavy with that accent that makes your legs a little weak.
You shrug, your body approaching him almost as a reflex, your knee touching his. It's kind of annoying how much bigger he's gotten than you, and stronger. Much stronger, you know he could flip you over with a single hand and honestly the thought is more exciting than you want to admit.
"Sweet thing?" He calls to you, still with that sly smile on his lips. You blink slowly, coming back to reality.
"Hmm?"
"Aren't you going to eat your delicious donut?"
"Yes. Yes." You say, nodding.
If before you thought Jason was cute, now you could write ridiculous poems about him, two stanzas just about his sapphire eyes.
He snuggled deeper into your couch, spreading his thighs and letting out a sigh of relief at the comfort.
"Tiring patrol?" He opened his eyes when he felt your hands lightly pinching his nose, trying to make him pay attention to you again. You would never admit it out loud, but having Jason's undivided attention was kind of addictive and intoxicating.
"You could say that."
You dropped the donuts on the living room table, suddenly feeling guilty. Even though it was just him teasing you, the store that sold your favorite donuts was really far away.
"I'm sorry I made you take my stupid donuts." He let out a breath when you rested your chin on his shoulder, staring at him from under your eyelashes.
"No. I don't forgive you." He teased, his hands going down to your waist and drawing circles there.
"Seriously, I was selfish." You repeat, looking down at the red bat symbol on his chest.
His blue eyes continued to stare at you, his hands coming up and lightly holding your chin, his eyebrows furrowed. Jason never accepted it when you seemed sad towards him, or when you made it seem like you were a hindrance in his life.
"Stop that shit."
A laugh escaped through your nostrils.
"You still have such a dirty mouth, Todd. My mother still blames you for the variety of curses I know."
He laughed, the sound going straight to your stomach. It should be forbidden for someone to have such a delightful laugh to hear. Jason wasn't as much of a laugh now as he used to be when he was a child, his innocence had been taken away from him years ago, so you drank every drop of his laughter you could.
"Well, I blame you every time I act stupid. We're even."
You reached your hands up to his hair and pulled lightly, like you used to do when you wanted to get back at him when you were kids. But this time, he didn't laugh you away or flick you in retaliation. His lips curved into a thin line and his eyes blinked so fast you thought you'd imagined it.
"Sweetie." Jason's voice was low, the nickname sending an electric shock through your body. "We're not kids anymore."
"You're still just as annoying." You joked, praying he wouldn't notice the slight crack in your voice.
"No, sweet thing, you didn't understand what I meant." He said, his blue eyes staring straight into your face. His hands moved down to your hips, pulling you closer to him, your legs almost resting on his thigh. "I'm saying we're not kids anymore." He repeated.
"Yes. I obviously know that."
He let out a long sigh, as if you were irritating him with your stupidity.
His slightly chapped lips parted as he said something that you were momentarily lost in, your hands resting on his muscular thigh. He gripped your chin tighter when he noticed your inattention and felt your hand on his thigh.
"See? That's what I'm saying." He let out a laugh that wasn't like before, it wasn't genuine and open-hearted, it was low and had a feeling you couldn't quite grasp. "You keep touching me and teasing me like we're children."
"I can stop." You stammered, very confused and feeling a little dizzy. This new Jason Todd, with more scars and less shyness, was making your throat suddenly close up.
"You're not supposed to stop." He whispered, his other hand coming back to grab the back of your neck and pull your faces so close you could feel his warm breath. "Just letting you know that now, when you lie on top of me and stare at me like that, my first thought isn't to play fight with you, darling." His hand squeezed your chin lightly as he added, his voice lower, "When you stare at me like that, all I think about is kissing you stupid."
Forming words seemed harder than ever.
"Ah."
"Ah," he mimicked you in a thin voice, a goofy smile on his face, his grip on your chin bringing your lips close to his. "I say I want to make you sigh my name and that's all you have to say?"
You clear your throat, your eyelashes fluttering slightly. The hand resting on his thigh makes an involuntary movement to lightly squeeze the muscle there. Jason's blue eyes darken, a noise close to a growl leaving his lips.
"You keep doing these things. Fuck, baby, every time you almost climb on my lap like it's nothing." He took a deep breath, as if he was losing his mind, closing his eyes so as not to get lost in his own thoughts. "You must know what you're doing to me."
"No. I. No." You repeated, still very overwhelmed by how close you were. Your best friend, staring at you like he was about to destroy you.
He smiled again at your mental confusion, brushing his lips against yours and letting out a low moan that made you gasp. "Let me kiss you, please?"
You nodded, crashing your lips against his before you had to beg for it. Jason's lips were rough against yours, as if he was punishing you for making him wait, for making him yearn for this.
Jason's ability to focus on multitasking was evident when he pulled you to sit fully on his lap, without separating your lips, his hands moving up and down your body, swallowing the small moans that came out of your mouth.
"I think I've already thought of a way for you to pay for your stupid donuts," he whispered, pulling your lips away for a few seconds to smile at you.
You laughed, feeling lighter than you had in years. Your hands cupped his face, caressing his cheek. There were so many questions and doubts swirling around your mind, but Jason pulled you into a hug, kissing your forehead.
"Honey, it took you a long time to realize that you're mine. Just relax."
You blinked away the tears, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, a genuine smile on your lips.
Your best friend was in love with you too, and everything would be okay.
I hope you liked it, sorry for the mistakes, I need to review all my works. My epub box is open, I just want to write more for Jason!! I'm stupid for him. And I'll be dying on the hill that Jason Todd has a dirty mouth. I'm trying to write for a gender-neutral reader but I've discovered that I have difficulty, I'm sorry, but I'll keep trying.
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steor-ra · 2 months ago
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Bring back the dead (1) (2)
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Y!batfam x neglected!Gn
(Read author's note in the end for more information/updates!)
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Sometimes you've wondered if there's a another universe where you'd be happy.
Perhaps in another universe, you would have a loving, caring family, much like the other kids at the park who always have genuine smiles on their faces while you look on with enviousness and a heavy heart as a child. You've always wondered, though, what if things had turned out differently, what if your mother had truly wanted you as a child so you wouldn't end up with your biological father, or maybe bruce payed more attention to you instead of that stupid costume and crowl.
Your stomach would sometimes churn at the prospect of being loved; it didn't seem right. Perhaps you didn't enjoy the sound of being loved because you've become accustomed to feeling neglected. It no longer hurts when Bruce passes past you or you see any of your siblings hanging out.
Maybe you just don't know what it's like to feel loved.
you've seen how Bruce cares for others, including Gotham's villains, to whom he pledged to defend everyone strolling down the shallow street full of evil.
You've seen how he'd be there if Dick was seriously injured, how he'd be comforting Dick as you stand beside the bed Dick is lying on, completely discarding you, as if Bruce is presenting you with a reality you've always desired, shoving it in your face that the only time you'll ever receive attention from him is through your imagination. it hurts to see that Bruce could actually care if someone is hurt, no matter how big or small, whereas, despite being deeply scarred by an abusive drug addict mother, you knew that Bruce won't care if you are dying right now; there are other problems in Gotham he needs to deal with. Atleast that's what you thought, maybe there's a tiny bit of hope?
It's perplexing when you feel the green-eyed monster tighten your heart when you witness the Wayne 'family' joyful without you because your gut always tightens the same way when you imagine yourself standing alongside them.
It just didn't stick right to the fantasies of being doted on like Damian by his siblings, admired like Dick, constantly praised for your intelligence like Tim and Barbara, having your father's attention the same amount as Jason, being cared for like Stephanie or Cassandra, and being loved by your father, Bruce.
The family was odd, to be sure, but that didn't stop them from being so talented that you stood out like a sore thumb; sometimes you just wish that, aside from Alfred, at least one of them wasn't a vigilante who would rather fight criminals who killed a child than admit that they themselves had killed one.
But what if you had a much more different life than this one?
Maybe you'd be an only child; you've always felt like one, but maybe now that your siblings are gone, Bruce's attention would be focused to you, and maybe you two could finally go on father-child dates. You can't picture what Bruce would be like during it though; will he still be the cold 'father' to you? Or will he be compassionate, like he is with Damien? The questions wrecked your fantasies, so you abandoned them, just as your mother did to you.
Or perhaps you'd be the oldest; like Dick, you'd have younger siblings who would look up to you, see you as a figure, and possibly love your younger siblings in ways you never were. You'd adore your first baby sibling till the last, making certain not to disregard anyone, like Dick did to you.
Or maybe you'd be one of them, one of the bat-vigilantes, fighting alongside them, with many skills to blend in with them; maybe you wouldn't be neglected now that you're a vigilante; you'd be in Batman's care, and he'd give you attention through training; and maybe Damian wouldn't harass you for being "useless" just because you're not on their team. As a vigilante, you might get harmed all the time, but it wouldn't make a difference in this reality, would it?
It aches to know that the only way you'll ever be able to receive affection is through fantasy, even if the imagination felt cold and lonely, which probably because you didn't know what it feels like to receive warmth from your family.
It's complicated but that's okay. You won't ask for it now that you know you're dying without ever experiencing love from your supposed father, Bruce, or being saved by Batman, all in the name of protecting others who are worthy of his presence.
You are not afraid of dying, but the idea of being alone during it is frightening. You feel sorry for yourself, knowing that you will be alone until your dying breath.
Even until your last breath, you'd be mumbling their names like a broken mantra, praying for them to save you, the same way you had when you still believed in their promises.
It hurts so much. everything aches in both ways.
In comparison to the other kidnappers, the kidnapper is brutal and shows no mercy. This time, the adductor is the well-known Joker, and you're frightened This is the same villain who carelessly attempted to beat Batman nearly every day, who viciously murdered your brother Jason, and who rendered Barbara crippled. Joker is the guy who wrecked your family, so hearing his name should send shivers down your spine.
You screamed in agony as the joker tore your nails one by one; your head ached, and all you could hear was a loud pitch ringing. You're covered in bruises and blood, from head to toe.
It didn't help that all you could think about was the possibility of dying without anyone knowing, which terrified you. All those nights and days of ignoring you in order to save the city meanwhile when you're genuinely in need of help from your family whom are heroes, will also ignore it, and it breaks you.
Are you actually a burden to them? Are you truly that worthless that you can't be spared this torture? Not to be rescued by your own father? Is anyone considered part of a family? All you did was ask for a savior coming from your vigilante family. Was that a lot to ask for?
Suddenly, all of the pain felt numb, and a knife has been plugged into your chest, leaving an aching hole where your heart should be. The nasty, jagged bit of steel soaked in thick red that dripped from your chest became your best friend; it sticks closer to your heart more than anyone else has ever been.
The ringing drowned out Joker's maniacal laughter as he crackled at the way your eyes went blank and your body slumped.
"Aw man~ this bird is sooo boring" he sighs dramatically "no wonder brucie didn't care"
"Poor you~"
And with that, you fell unconscious
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Dick has never felt so guilty since his parents' deaths and for making the Robin a legacy, causing some deaths and permanent damages, but those feelings fail in comparison to the guilt he is experiencing right now. The more he watches the videos you've made over your time at the mansion, the more he wants to scream and rip his hair out.
He thinks it's lovely at first because you enjoy capturing your life through vlogging; that was the first thing he learned about you, and if he brings you back, he'll make sure to learn every single action. But you're of legal age to do and go whatever you want, and he knows that, the guilt of not knowing your age is killing him, and the realization that he and others have practically disregarded you your entire existence stings. He's supposed to be a figure to everyone; he's become one to whatever child Batman comes, as well as others all across the world, so he feels bad that he wasn't a brother figure to you. God knows what trauma you've been through being neglected all your life.
But that is beneath the point. He's currently looking back to the day you were first brought to the manor. Alfred was the one who welcomed you and offered you a digital camera to entertain yourself. Dick knows this because he saw it at the beginning of the video.
The video quality is awful; he figured because this was filmed years ago, there isn't a date specifying when it was made; still, you're cute; the first time he sees your face, he's stunned. When did you get that cute?
When he first met you personally, you appeared lonely, shy, and sad. It's like he is witnessing a totally different person on the video. Was his first impression of you mistaken all along? He's ashamed to admit it, but the way he first saw you was one of the reasons he avoided you; he didn't expect to ignore you for the rest of your life though. He feels like a jerk.
"I'm finally going to meet my real dad; I can't believe it's Bruce Wayne as well! I wonder if I'll also meet his sons, or my brothers," you grinned at the camera as you showed around the house. "It's sooo big; I hope I could play hide and seek with them, I love that game"
Dick couldn't help but smile at your grin, which turned into a grimace when he realized they'd never engaged with you properly. He groaned and went to the most recent video. This time, you're older, with heavy circles under your eyes; you appeared exhausted, but you smiled at the camera anyhow.
Candles have laminated the room, and a little cupcake is placed in front of you. And Dick's heart dropped when he spotted the calendar behind you, only 5 months after you taped this, and it was your birthday. Dick remembers spending the weekend at the manor with his siblings and, apparently, everyone else except you. His eyes saddened as you began singing Happy Birthday to yourself. There are cracks between some lines, yet your voice is soulful, even if you appeared soulless at the time. Dick can't help but be impressed by the way your voice sounds in Harmony.
The video ended when tears has finally fallen from your eyes , and dick is a mess; he was sweating, his eyes were dilated, his hair was tangled from how much he was nervously pulling it, and he appeared to have witnessed something horrible. Oh God, his chest is clenching so hard that he can't breathe. He feels like a monster.
He grabbed his phone with shaking hands and searched for you on social media, but there was nothing. There is nothing for websites. There's some humor about you in papers, but whereabouts are you currently There is nothing. And Dick knows that he needs to ask for Bruce's help, your father. Dick is furious with Bruce right now; how could Bruce not be aware that you had moved out? If he did, why didn't Bruce remind him of your presence? Did your father also ignore you?
Do the family knows about your existence here in the manor?
Dick was about to have a panic attack if a notification hadn't appeared unexpectedly. Dick's heart breaks as he receives a text message from an unknown number with a photo of you unconscious and beaten.
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(Next chapter)
(A/n: Thank you for all y'all support, I hope you enjoyed reading this🤗💞 and I'm really sorry for the wait, will repeat though 😓🥲 taglist is broken lol )
Taglist: @nosyrobin @dhanyasri @sheepintherain @hasty-desert @m3ntally-unstable @cupids-pretty-boy @bat1212 @illytian @lilyalone @lafemmii @sweetconnoisseurgardener @ch1cky-093 @shycreatorreview @tdickensstuff4 @vanilliona @theblonde777 @purplelady22 @imacollosssaltitan @brrrr-brain-machine-broke @pi1nkl0ver @fantasyhopperhea @caffeinatedvigilantewriter
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rin-may-1103 · 5 months ago
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Just a Bite.
Master Post | Next
Danny stared out at the busy street from behind his dumpster.
or well, not his dumpster, but it might as well be his considering how many nights he's spent sitting behind it like some rabid raccoon.
Two months ago, he would have been sleeping in his own bed. His glow-in-the-dark stars vaguely lighting up his room in soft luminescent colors. The sound of Jazz snoring in her sleep just a room over, his parents still milling around in the basement.
he would have just finished fighting the box ghost and collapsed onto his bed, the sound of his home lulling him to sleep.
Oh, how things can change in a blink of an eye.
No, instead of sleeping on his bed with his cartoon ghost sheets and NASA poster covered room, he's out here in some random dirty city, sleeping behind dumpsters.
dirty, grimy, rusty dumpsters.
"did you hear?" some lady dressed in a light blue summer dress asked, turning to look at her friend as they started to walk past. "Mr. Wayne donated another lump sum to that charity." she huffed, shaking her head like she had just said the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard.
her friend stopped in the middle of the alley opening, her graying hair splaying in an ark as she twisted to face the other women. "my word! again? what the hell is that man thinking?"
the woman huffed, then smirked in amusement. "it's like he's shouting for the world to hear how desperate he is for attention. he thinks if he donates enough money to those scoudrails they'll love him or something. With how he's acting lately, it's like he wants all the street rats to barge into his home asking for money, food, and clothes."
her friend clicked her tongue in disgust, "I'd believe it. he has so many kids now, it's like he's running an orphanage. someone, anyone really, with black hair and some tragic story could walk right in and not even be noticed. they'd blend right in with the others."
"I heard it's genetic, his father was the same way before he met Martha. Bruce's blood son, Damian I believe, acts just like his father. the boy's been spotted taking stray cats and dogs inside. It wouldn't surprise me if the paper posted about him convincing his father for another sibling at some point."
the women then turned and started to walk away, their conversation slowly bleeding into the surrounding city ruckus.
Danny leaned back, resting his head against the crumbling brick behind him.
walk right in and not be noticed? wouldn't that be grand. He had heard of Mr. wayne and his gaggle of black-haired children. What were their names again? he could have sworn Sam told him before, in one of her rants about rich society.
Richard Grayson was the first, Danny remembered because Tucker had been making none stop dick jokes for a few hours. Danny didn't understand why the man would willingly go by Dick, but then again, who was he to question someone's name when he fights ghosts like Skulker and Technis on a daily basis?
Next was... Jason? Sam had mentioned there was a whole conspiracy theory of how his death was a cover-up. how all the unsolved crime community swore it was Bruce who killed the kid, that or the kid had some terminal illness that Bruce didn't want the media to know about.
thennnnnn-
Danny glanced around, trying to dig through his memories of Sam's rant. Dick: the orphaned circus act taken in the night his parents died. he's romanie? maybe, Danny wasn't too sure on that one. Jason: taken off the streets, one of his parents was out of the picture and the other one died of a drug overdose.
and then there was..... Tim! Right, Tim, the one who was Mr. Wayne's neighbor before his mother died and his dad went into a coma, then died later on. right, right. he was the known tech genius, the one who took over the company while Mr. Wayne stepped back for a while.
there were others? like, four others? Damian, the lady said he was the blood son sooo, that would imply he was the only bio kid.
who else was there? hmmmm.
well, either way, Danny's tired brain agreed with the women. someone, anyone, who looked vaguely like the other kids could walk right into the house and no one would notice.
it was a bad idea. a terrible one really. but. Danny was hungry.
he's been sleeping behind dumpsters for a few weeks now, he hadn't had anything good to eat in forever, and he was tired. (not as exhausted as he was back home, but still tired. who would have guessed he'd sleep more while homeless?)
he wasn't going to steal from people, his core wouldn't allow him to. and well, he's pretty sure Dan would have stolen already, so there was no way Danny was going to. not unless his life was at risk, and well? it wasn't right now, so no stealing.
but this? walking right into a house and blatantly taking food? right in front of them?
it wouldn't be stealing if he just flat-out didn't try to hide it. they'd be able to stop him and send him away. heck, he doubted he'd even make it past the front gate before they turned him away.
...
was he really going to do this?
...
yes, yes he was.
standing up, Danny started making his way out of the alleyway and over to the tall building with Wayne's name on it. It was a good place to start, maybe he could even find one of the kids and walk with them. or, even better, he could find Mr. Wayne and walk with him. he liked that better than following some kid around.
suddenly, a car honked right next to him, the window rolling down to reveal a tired and disheveled man behind the wheel. glancing up, Danny made eye contact with the taxi driver.
the man yawned and gestured for him to get in, already speaking before Danny could decline. "Mr. Wayne! Your father," yawn, "Father already paid for me to take you home. just hop in."
Danny blinked then glanced around, looking to see if the Wayne the man was talking about was around. nope. turning back, Danny spotted a green sticky note on the back seat.
well, alright then. guess he was getting into the taxi and doing this after all. Clockwork obviously approved if he messed with the timing of things.
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moonlight-stalker · 3 months ago
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# Dcu x Dp 205
Danny had been Reborn into the Wayne family. The Wayne's belive that Danny has many imaginary friends what they don't know is that they are all ghost that come to play with the Reborn king.
The Wayne family become varied worried when Danny would hold funerals for his imaginary friends at first they thought that Danny was just out growing them and was killing them off. They did not like that he was killing them off especially considering that a lot of them have violent ends some examlps are
Boxy was cushed to death when he was looking for a small box
Cujo who was a guard dog that was put down because the people had no more use for him
Ember McLain who was a rock star and die in a house fire
Johnny 13 and Kitty who died in a motorcycle accident after being run off the road by a angry driver
Nicolai Technus who loved anything and everything electronic died by electrocution
Sidney Poindexter died because he was locked and forgotten in a locker
Skulker who loved to hunt die in an hunting accident
Youngblood who like to play pretend and died becuse he was left in the hot car with his pet
After the funerals they wold see him play and talking to the imaginary friends and around the time he started to give them funerals he also started supposedly started to do things that his friends told him to do some examples
Nocturn who ask for Danny to put them all to sleep luckily they caught him before he could drug them all but he got to Tim and Dick
Evergreen who asked him to grow some plants for him they found out that Danny had managed to sneak off the manors ground find poison ivy bring her back and started having her help plant flowers and other plants.
Clockwork who told Danny that if he could get all the clocks and bring them to Bruce's office he would show him a secret, the secret was the entrance to the Batcave were they would find Danny in. When the Wayne were collecting the clocks they noticed that they all had specific times. They're starting to worry that Danny's friends aren't so imaginary
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messenger-of-babel · 2 months ago
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The Call
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Summary: One little call to each of them. One big consequence. (Batfamily x sibling!reader)
Word Count: 2.9K
Notes: IM LATE AGAIN. I hope you all know that I do stay up wildly late when this happens cause I want to edit before I submit, even if some of these were pre-written (its 1:30AM RAHH). ANWAYS. Batfamily, I tried to get as many as I could but I haven't collected runs for about half the family cause I am biased towards my boys, but I am trying to be as accurate as possible when I can be and that includes those dynamics! So rest assured I am doing my research and hopefully that'll reflect soon. As usual, enjoy your daily feed and I'll enjoy my nap. Warnings just for general description of violence.
Much Love~! xx
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When Dick got the call, he was in his civilian clothes.
Dick Grayson was suit shopping, needing something for an upcoming gala. He had put it off for so long, since he wore the Nightwing suit more than any other in his closet. He had let it ring out once while he got his measurements taken, but when they called back a second time, his lips dipped into a frown. Excusing himself, he clicked the answer call button, stating his name. He hears the voice of Bruce, but in the stern tone of Batman. He doesn’t think that he's ever left a store as fast as he had that day, feet thudding on the pavement and breath cold in his chest as he hurries to his car. He unlocks it and all but throws himself into the passenger seat, lines on his face hardening. Throwing it quickly into drive he pulls out and heads in the direction of the manor.
He tries to keep himself composed, his emotional training kicking in. His fingers are tense on the steering wheel, passing over the bridge at a speed a cop would most certainly pull him over for. Even though he tries to take a deep breath, there's a burning in his sternum. It builds until it creeps into his neck, making him click his tongue uncomfortably.
The sensation is a rage he hadn't felt in a while, a fire that hadn’t burnt that intensely since he was just a boy grieving his parents’ death. It had flickered when he had heard Bruce had adopted a boy called Jason after him, sputtering to life upon hearing about his death. Yet he had grown, he had risen above it and had become a shelter for his younger, extended family. He was dependable, uncrackable, and upbeat, that was Nightwing. Yet as he drives back with that painful fire in his chest, he felt nothing more than Dick Grayson, the boy stricken with fear at the idea of losing his family.
When Jason got the call, he had been on patrol.
Helm securely on his face, it kept the drizzly night rain of Gotham out of his eyes. It had been a rather quiet night, stopping a few minor robberies and assaults that were common down by Dixon Docks. He was eager to return home, wanting to swing by the manor quickly to take full advantage of the hot water system before heading back to his apartment in Old Gotham for a well-deserved rest. He had just finished interrogating some of Penguins' men, about to call the cave to let whoever was on tonight know that they finally had the location of the new drug den they had been chasing the past month. However, the communication device he had set on his bike was lit, screen full of notifications.
Calls, one after another filled the small holographic display and he pressed the button to call back, leg swinging over the side of the bike as he did so. He had only started the bike but already he screeched to a stop, making sure he heard the words properly. A curse and gruffly shouted questions were his only response and when he got the information he wanted, he cut the call and the bike roared to life. He leant forward as if that was going to help him get to his destination quicker, blood boiling underneath his skin. His chest ached with the urge to sputter out pants, desperate to start the sign of panic racing through his veins. Yet he was stronger than that, keeping his cool like a tightly wound coil, muscles tensed beneath the suit.
His mind buzzes with worry, anxiety gnawing at his ribcage like a feral rat.
Jason doesn't often allow himself to be emotional on the job, despite his tendency for rage.
But rage was different. Rage burned and warmed him up from the inside, was the force that he put behind every punch or kick. It was his kindling, and it served to guide him as well as any star. Of course, Bruce had tempered it somewhat, but he had just guided Jason into turning it into something else, not getting rid of entirely. He used rage to protect the people of the city, the outrage he felt when he saw them get treated badly. He used rage when coming to his family's defence, the sight of hands being laid on people he had come to care for sparking it too. Those were the rages he was used to using, although there was always a third.
The pit.
The rage that bubbled away in the back of his mind, hidden behind a tall wall and shoved into the deepest part of him. That was the rage that crept forth, green and poisonous in his veins and clouding his judgement in a fog of pain and despair and anger. When it would appear, he would often take a moment to himself to pack it back away, contain it once more in the bulletproof casing of his heart. Yet right now, he didn't want to put it back. It made him rev the bike harder, made him feel like he was getting there quicker. The bike kicked up water as he zig zagged through the back streets, his mental map of Gotham rerouting anytime the traffic was longer than five cars deep. He couldn't afford to lost time, to not be fast enough. Not now, not this time, and if he had to use the rage the pit cursed him with, he would.
Tim was at the manor, holed up in his room when he got the call.
It had been a long night the night before, tossing restlessly. Not that he would have told anyone, but the last fight with Bane had left him with a few more bruises than he had let on, cleverly hidden from the keen eyes of Alfred. He wanted to nurse them himself, carry his own weight. In fact, he had been sulking in his room going over the things that had been troubling him, knees pulled to his chest.
Dick was capable and dependable, and the first Robin, the biggest shoes to fill. Jason was tenacious but loved deeply, and he fought for what was right. His methods might be unconventional to the Bat sometimes, but he knew what he wanted to fight for. Steph had flown the nest to become Spoiler, Cass already had such a firm grasp of who she wanted to become now that she was Orphan. Barbara had even been able to turn her life around after being put into her wheelchair, her desire to help leading her to become Oracle when she had to hang up Batgirl. Even Damian, the true son of Bruce Wayne, was so confident, growing at a rate he knew Bruce was quietly proud of.
But then there was Tim, who stayed up on weekends trying to redesign his suit, to carve his own vigilante life, only to look on it and see the traces of his time as Robin printed clearly on it. The role of Robin had outgrown him, but there was the shred of doubt that whispered in his ear that just maybe, he hadn't outgrown it. The ringing of his phone snapped him out of his daze, and he let it go to voicemail. When it came again, he grabbed his phone with the desire to turn it off, but seeing the emergency signal had him picking up right away.
"Hello?" he called, sitting right up in bed. His eyes widened and he shelved his pity party, running out of his room.
He winds through the halls of the manor until he finds the door he's looking for. Tim's knuckles rap against the wood loudly, repeating until a disgruntled Damian comes to the door, swinging it open violently. "This better be good, Drake." he deadpans, scanning the flustered state of the older boy. Tim just turns his phone screen, showing the emergency call signal before gesturing to the direction of the grandfather clock with his head. "We've got to go." he says curtly, the young boy hot on his heels after he recovers from his shock.
Both of them head to the cave and prepare to depart immediately. Tim slips the suit over his skin like an outgrown shedding, domino mask sliding onto his face. He couldn’t recognise his own face when he caught sight of it in the glass reflection, but a mask and suit would never be enough to hide the panic that clung to him tighter than the Red Robin suit.
When Bruce got the call, he was at Wayne Enterprises.
He was making a rare appearance at the office, knowing that Lucius had something that he wanted to talk to him about. His office felt foreign and sterile, empty and unreal. The glass surfaces everywhere let him glimpse the face of Bruce Wayne, a face that he was beginning to see less and less. It felt uncanny seeing himself without the cowl, and sometimes when he was working, he could swear he saw a reflection of the bat ears in the window beside him. The night had dragged on, and he was only an hour into the meeting with Lucius when the phone in his suit pocket rang.
He and Lucius shared a sceptical look as he turned the phone screen. The call location wasn't displaying as the Batcave, the only place that could contact this phone directly outside of his children, Lucius and Alfred's personal mobile. Yet he knew Red Hood was taking the brunt of patrol tonight, and Bruce was intended to join him after the meeting. Dick was carrying out some errands downtown and everyone else had either stayed home or didn't contact him like this often. The girls preferred to call his phone as Bruce Wayne or spoke through Alfred, so who could it be?
Lucius gives a nod, silent as he sits down. Bruce's face hardens as he presses the speaker button, accepting the call.
"Who is this?" he says, lowering his voice to the gravelly timbre of Batman.
"Da...B-Batman?" comes a broken, shaky voice on the other end. Lucius's eyes widen and flick to Bruce's immediately, mouth parting. Bruce's jaw ticks, eyes widening as well when he hears your voice.
"This is the Batman. How did you get this number?" He asks, having to focus on keeping his voice low, even though the tone of Bruce threatens to creep back in.
"He-he just had it. I don't know. He just told me to speak, I-I'm not even holding the phone I can't see anything; I’m tied, my eyes are-" you begin to ramble, struggling to get through your words before you're cut off.
"Hello, Batsy." calls a voice close to the receiver, and Bruce swore that his heart fell through the floor in that moment. His fingers tighten around the phone the same way that his lungs are constricting in his chest.
"Joker."
The man on the other end cackles, if Bruce could even call him that. "Miss me?" he snickers, Bruce's mind filling with the image of a red stretched grin. "You see, this is more of a... courtesy call. You know Bruce Wayne, billionaire extraordinaire?"
Bruce's head snaps up to Lucius, who's rubbing at his face nervously.
He didn't know, did he?
"You see, I didn't make a lot of impact going after the commissioner last time, so I had to think to myself, If I wanted to really shake things up in Gotham, who else is there? Then I thought of it, who better than the playboy of the century?" he laughs, punctuated with a sharp snap of his fingers.
"Get to the point." Bruce all but growls.
"Yeah yeah, you always love to rush me, don't you?" The Joker snarks back with fake hurt, before continuing. "Regardless, I have one of his little orphan projects, thinking I might have a bit more success with this one."
He hears a thwack over the phone and a scream, making his nails dig into his palm. He steadies his breathing.
"What have you done?" he asks, low and dangerous.
Another thwack.
"Exactly what I said. But there was a rumour going around that you know Mr. Money, so I thought I'd give you a call, you know, a little gift. If you do know the richest orphan in Gotham, then I want to give you the honour of telling him I've got one of his. Better yet, I want to give you the honour of delivering their body to his doorstep. Maybe that way, you might be able to bond over losing your fake kids."
Bruce feels sick, closing his eyes to try and stop himself from making a mistake right now.
Your life was on the line. He had to play smart.
"Where are you?"
The joker tuts on the other end. "This was a courtesy call, nothing more. I don't want anyone interrupting my playtime. Tata for now~"
"Joker-" he starts but then he's cut off, line going dead. Lucius doesn't say anything, his own personal phone pulled out as he calls Alfred, studying the frozen figure of Bruce. It's almost like there's dark tendrils to the shadows on his broad body, deepening the lines on his face.
Bruce doesn't remember too much, but Batman did.
Immediately he had left the room, suit en route to him and arriving within the minute. As soon as the comfort of his cowl touched his skin, Bruce was gone, and it was Batman calling everyone at the same time. It was Dick who picked up first, a couple of rings earlier than Jason before Tim joined, the sound of Damian in the background. Oracle and Spoiler joined together, while the others were still pending. He didn’t have the time to temper his voice as he relayed the situation, immediately getting as many people on recon as possible.
There were shouts and yelling and cursing before all of their lines became inactive, replaced with trackers signalling that their suits were live. When he enters the batmobile he grips the wheel tensely. The lump in his throat doesn't seem to disappear, only growing larger with each second. His mind is filled with pictures of Jason. Pictures of Barbara. The smiling photos of you.
He might never admit it, but he had your photos front and centre in his wallet (something you did in fact know and used to your advantage frequently in 'dad loves me more' battles). He remembers the first day he ever saw you, cold and scared apart from the other kids in the orphanage. He had been investigating a potential human trafficking ring operating out of the centre, but when he saw you, the fatherly pang hit him. The way your eyes stared forward dully as he greeted children as Bruce Wayne, cameras flashing around him. He had enough wealth to buy the children anything they asked for, the other kids excitedly asking for new toys or clothes or art supplies. However, when he kneeled down in front of you and asked you want you wanted, you said only a few words, 'a family'.
And god be damned if Bruce didn't have money enough for that too.
So, he took you in, hid batman from you like he had tried to with everyone else as well. Yet he failed again, but unlike his children in the past, you never asked to join. Never asked for a suit or to stay up or to train in the cave. Never showed any interest in joining your siblings or throwing yourself in front of danger for the sake of the city. When he asked you why you had simply shrugged, giving him a soft smile.
"All I've ever wanted was to be part of a family. I don't need to be a superhero to be loved."
And then you beamed at him with a smile that could have lit up his world and chased the clouds away from Gotham, so pure and genuinely content. That made Bruce feel like he had finally succeeded as a father, and for once Bruce felt like a father. No Batman, no mask and cape. He didn't train with you; he went out with you to the theatre on weekends. You didn't jump from rooftop to rooftop, you liked to come study with him in his office when he had to take care of Wayne affairs. Batman may have been created to save Gotham city, but he was convinced that you were sent to save Bruce Wayne.
Now, he felt that he had failed you as both Bruce and Batman.
"Hold on sweetheart," he whispers to himself, letting his eyes close for a brief moment during his exhale. "I'll get you home. I promise."
He pressed the accelerator further, Batmobile display signaling that everyone else was suited up and across the city waiting further instruction. He just hoped, he prayed that when he brought you back, it wouldn't be in a body bag.
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bugboi01 · 23 days ago
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The Family Omega
batfam x gn! reader imagine
Tw for grooming, sexual coercion, incest, some underage (Damian is 14 and not included in the sexual stuff but Tim and Reader are both 17)
Being a family full of alphas and betas is tough, especially during rut season. While Alfred and Dick did their best to help mediate any fights, the whole family was hoping Damian would be an omega despite the boy's feisty nature. Unfortunately for everyone, Damian woke up on his 14th birthday snarling and acting territorial over his room.
That's where you come in. Maybe you're a friend of Damian's from school, or you work as an intern for WE. Either way, you've piqued the family's interest, and they're desperate enough to make you theirs.
It would start off small, like offering to let you stay the night after a fight with your parents or lending you a jacket covered in one of the alphas' scents. You probably won't even notice how close you've gotten with the family until it's too late. All it takes is one spiked drink or drugged meal for you to go into an early heat.
Bruce would be first as the head of the family. If you try to struggle or protest, he'll simply coo at how cute you are before fucking you mercilessly until he knots your needy hole.
Dick would be next, eagerly eating you out and tasting his father's cum still dripping out of your hole. As a beta, Dick doesn't feel the overwhelming urge to mate with you, so he focuses on making you cum as many times as he can until your omega brain is turned to mush (though he'll definitely fuck you later).
Duke will get his turn after just coming off of patrol. He'll lazily thrust into you until he knots, whispering praises all the while.
Youll get a small break with Damian as the younger alpha will be more focused on scenting you and making sure your nest is up to his standards. You'll get some water and your favorite food from Alfred before it's back to being bred.
Jason is probably the most rough out of all the batboys, but he doesn't mean to be. He just loves the feeling of you so much that he can't help but lose control a little. He'd definitely have some sort of mommy/daddy kink. Will suck on your nipples while he waits for his knot to go down.
Finally, Tim. Tim is either really fucking energetic or a bit more tired and subdued like Duke depending on how much sleep he's had. If he's bored from working on a case or as ceo, he'll get all his energy out on you. If he's tired from patrol or staying up, he's more relaxed, maybe even making you ride him. I also think he rambles during sex, maybe about how good you feel or maybe just whatever hyperfixation he has at the moment.
(Omg that was a doozy. First time writing on tumblr btw! Feel free to leave requests if you want more or constructive criticism in my asks!)
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cateyam · 2 months ago
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In canon, Jason refused to work with anyone else unless it's Dick.
I'm pretty sure this conversation has happened so many times with other Bats and Dick is just there getting the free pass.
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Tim: Hey, I need your help. I have this case to work on and it's in Cri—
Jason: No.
Tim: But—
Jason: No. Hand me the case instead, I'll solve it.
Tim: C'mon man, this is my case!
Jason: So? Is that supposed to get me to give you permission to enter my territory?
Tim: I'll tell Bruce.
Jason: Go ahead, Timtam. I'll give him the same answer as I did to you.
Tim (pouting): I feel like I'm the only person who isn't allowed in Crime Alley.
Jason: Uh, you're not that special, Timmers. Everyone isn't allowed.
Tim: Really?
Dick (appearing from nowhere): Hey Jay, mind if I go over your apartment later? I have a drug bust to take down in Crime Alley and I've been trying to catch them in Blüd.
Jason: Sure, I'll help you.
Dick: Great, thanks Little Wing! *disappears*
Tim: WHAT THE FUCK.
Jason: What?
Tim: WHY IS DICK ALLOWED AND NOT ME!!!!!!
Jason (shrugging and walking away): I don't make the rules, Timbers.
Tim: YOU LITERALLY FUCKING DO.
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Steph: Hey Jason.
Jason: No.
Steph: But I haven't said anything yet!!!!
Jason: You're gonna ask me to team up so you can enter Crime Alley. No.
Steph: C'mon dude!!!!
Dick: Hey Jason.
Jason: Sure Dick, I'll see you later.
Dick (beaming): Thanks Jay!
Steph: WHY.
Jason (leaving): I'm busy, Steph.
Steph: FUCK YOU ASSHOLE.
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us-the-batfam-blog · 3 months ago
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sibling dynamics bruce and Dick lol
Bruce: dick I swear to god, if you stole my last chocolate bar I will throw you out the window
Dick: *eating the chocolate bar* I dare you
Bruce: *running after Dick through the house*
Tim: NO HE'S YOUR SON WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS
Bruce: you GREATLY misunderstand, *stops his running* Dick is my chum.
Tim: yeah because he's your son.
Bruce: no, he's like my little brother or something
Tim: what.
Bruce: why do you think we tease each other and did so many drug busts and fought dangerous criminals together???
Tim: NO I thought you did that with all the kids!
Bruce: Dick isn't my kid though, he's like my asshole younger brother I was literally 20 when I met him and adopted him.
Tim: no
Dick who just came around the corner to see what was happening and saw bruce and Tim arguing holding the chocolate bar in his mouth
Dick: no way, you didn't know??
Tim: KNOW WHAT??
Dick: *slings his arms over bruce* this asshole is my stupid older brother. also no, I regret nothing that chocolate bar was good.
Tim: *in shock*
Bruce: I swear to fuck one of these days I'll finally have a whole chocolate bar... ugh.
Tim: no I do not believe this *hands cover his ears* la la la la la
Bruce and dick: *laugh their asses off*
Prev | Current | next
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justsomestuffreally · 10 days ago
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I think the Batkids reaction to a Bruce who isn't de-aged to 8 but rather 29 (pre-Jason death, post his adoption) would be fascinating. 
Their reaction would vary wildly:
Dick: Oh. Bruce is soft again. Bruce calls them ‘chum’ and ‘buddy’ and gives head pats for no reason. He still isn’t perfect, his communication skills are still a work in progress, but compared to his future self? Without actively dying Dick is hugged plenty. Bruce asks him to go to the zoo, unrelated to any case, just to spend time together. Dick is hit with more nostalgia and longing for the past than he knows what to do with.
Also notable: his dad is younger than him. That is something. Second, holy existential crisis Batman, his dad is younger than him and already one adult and one teenage kid??? Dick is not ready to feel this old yet. Third, Dick has absolutely no idea how Bruce managed to stay patient through his no-pants years. He is going to thank reason every day from now on that Damian wears full protection.
Jason: After his death and League he clung to an image of Bruce. One many tried to beat out of him, but he still kept it somewhere close to his heart, buried deep enough even he couldn’t see it. When he came back Bruce wasn’t like this idea of him. How stupid of him to believe the mind of a traumatized kid. Trying to create one good thing before the kid drew his last breath. Making up memories that never even existed.
But they did. Every smile and hug and even his words reflect the image tugged safely against his still-beating heart. His dad very clearly, very deeply loves him. Which is so much worse. Because he can understand why a Bruce, who never cared, didn’t kill the Joker. But he cares. So why the fuck did he not kill the Joker?
Tim: The reason he joined the family, the reason why he became Robin in the first place was because he saw a problem when Bruce started self-destructing and thought ‘Someone needs to fix that!’. Therefore he went and collected Dick, who didn’t seem keen on fixing it. So, the job fell to him to fix it.
He thought he did a good job, he thought he fixed the problem. Except now he sees who Bruce was, and he knows he failed. Their Bruce is less soft, less affectionate, less like he was before. Batman needs a Robin and Tim didn’t manage to be good enough of one to save him. 
[Or: Tim has a guilt complex a hundred miles wide and blames himself for things that aren’t his fault part 52]
Steph: Jason and she are very similar. Both come from the Narrows, both have a mother addicted to drugs and a shitty father. The differences start when Steph keeps waiting on the roof of their apartment for Batman to whisk her away, while Jason tries to steal the tires of the Batmobile and is taken in.
When Steph started out as Spoiler Bruce tried to keep her off the field, and obviously this one would too (even if he would probably be less paranoid about it), but she knows this Bruce would have also taken her in. This Bruce would be the father she always wished for when she sat on their roof and couldn’t see any stars. 
And she didn’t get to have this because Jason went ahead and died. (Of course, she knows she isn’t fair to the guy. Dying isn’t fun… And she knows the only reason she lived is because he died. When Batman rescued her from Black Mask she was in such terrible shape that Leslie managed to convince the World’s Greatest Detective that she died. If Jason hadn’t died Bruce wouldn’t have been as paranoid, wouldn’t have noticed her missing so soon, wouldn’t have been as urgent in his response. Would have been just a minute slower, a minute which would have killed her. Just as it had Jason.)
For her, this Bruce is a distorted mirror into a past which never was. 
Cass: This Bruce and B are not the same person. They don’t move the same. In a fight, this Bruce is younger, faster, stronger. Doesn’t compensate for a previously broken spine. Less experienced. Still one of the most experienced she knows, but less. 
He still moves differently, outside a fight, less pain. More likely to engage in physical affection, more likely to hug and pat and talk. He talks more than B. B knows what she means without words. This Bruce doesn’t.
She likes this Bruce, warmth, and softness. But not as much as B. He knows what she means, when she wants a hug, when she tells him ‘I love you’ without words. B doesn’t need words. This Bruce doesn’t know her, doesn’t communicate like her. She wants B back.
Damian: At first, when this version of his father seemed uncanny and oddly familiar, he assumed it to be due to the stories of his mother. After all, she always told him tales about his father. He simply did not have the frame of reference to understand the kindness she spoke of. Clearly, the clash between the ideals of the League and the ones of his father causes these feelings, just as they did when he first entered the manor.
He presumed this to be the case until one day on patrol Batman laid a hand on his shoulder and told him he did a good job after no particularly impressive fight and he nearly called him ‘Grayson’. Because the stories of his mother may have painted the picture of this version of his father, however, it wasn’t what made it familiar; no, he knew this kindness. These hugs and compliments one would bestow upon a child. Compliments which, despite the indignity, still warm him. Because Grayson learned how to be a… caregiver from his father.
His father used to be like Grayson, used to be until his grief hardened him. Damian could have had this. Damian could have a brother and father who would- But he doesn’t because of Todd. He loathes Todd. Loathes him for ruining the life he could have had.
Why did he die anyway? Damian certainly wouldn’t have a problem escaping bonds created by the Joker, Damian would have disarmed the bomb in time, Damian would have never thrown this life away like he did.
[Or: Damian is a child who was raised by assassins and has unreasonable standards for fighting abilities and also is a child who needs to focus his rage on someone.]
Duke: He was neither there before Jason died nor in the aftermath [according to my math he was around 4 when Jason died] he joined the family when Jason was already back for 4 years or so. He mostly skipped all the drama. For him, Bruce is the way Bruce is because he is Bruce. It’s weird to see him so different, to see how grief shaped parts of Bruce which Duke assumed were just Bruce things.
He’s glad this Bruce is brighter, or not because it just highlights how much that light will dim? Who knows, certainly not him. 
What he does know is that, with their Bruce, he has a distance which, with his parents still alive, he appreciates. With this Bruce, he can understand why Dick struggled so much whether he wants to be his ward or son, how he doesn’t want to replace his parents but still have this Bruce as a dad. It definitely explained the ted talk Dick tried to give him after Bruce officially took him in as a ward.
He likes this Bruce well enough, but he doesn’t necessarily want him to stay this way. Yes, their Bruce is less happy, less open but he did heal, he did grow. Duke met a Bruce who tried to learn from his mistakes, learned to communicate better, and learned when to pull and when to push. For Tim, Damian, Dick, and certainly Jason there is too much baggage, too much history in their relationships, it’s difficult for them to ever move past- anything really.
Sure, when Dick and Bruce are on the same page they are essentially invincible but then the past catches up again and they don’t talk to each other for months. And honestly? Apart from Cass, Duke’s pretty sure he has one of the best relationships with Bruce simply because he got to know him at a better time.
Duke doesn’t mind this Bruce. But their Bruce loved Jason, cared for him so deeply the scars still show to this day. And he still chooses to open up again even if just a bit by bit. Even if just Duke can see it. He is used to being the only one that can see.
And maybe knowing this care extends to him, this love even grief can’t shake? Maybe it makes him feel just a little bit safer, a little bit warmer, a little bit brighter.
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toast-on-dandelioms · 3 months ago
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completely fine if you can’t do this but I’m curious if you could do something with platonic yan batfam finding out teen reader smokes. Not hard core drugs or anything, just cigarettes (still bad I know), and maybe even drinks alcohol.
in their own words it “makes it so they can stop thinking”
Again completely fine if you can’t!! Also love your work ♥️
The ask is based before the events of part 4
beta reader: @duck-you
WC: 4.4k
Dividers made by @saradika-graphics @cafekitsune
Age of reader: 16-17 (the age of reader in the main serie is your choice, I don't think I ever made the age clear but for this ask reader is almost 18)
Tw: mentions of alcohol and cigarettes, underage drinking and reckless behaviour from intoxication, Joker, fighting under the influence, wrongful imprisonment, Black Mask and his uglyness
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You first started smoking when you were at the end of middle school and started high school, your friends kept pressuring you into it since all the cool kids were smoking and you didn't want to lose them.
You did stop a few times but they kept gas lighting you into starting smoking once again and after you started to roam Gotham as Spider it became an habit that helped you do something whenever the night was dead or you were just bored.
You also made sure to not smoke before going back to the Manor since you knew Alfred would know and you didn't want to let him know and disappoint the older man, seeing him as a father figure instead of Bruce since he was the one who actually took time out of his day to pay attention to you whenever you told him in advance.
The drinking didn't start until you turned 17 and your friends managed to drag you to a party after a lot of begging and accusing you of not caring about them.
You still remember the night where you got drunk for the first time, the beat of the music making you unable to talk to anyone without yelling and how everyone kept pushing drinks in your hand and cheer whenever you drank it all.
The taste of whatever drink you just drank always made you make a disgusted face before smiling happily as you started to relax and have fun with your friends, even singing karaoke after someone pushed a microphone in your hands and told you to follow the words that were being displayed on a TV.
Honestly that night was one of the best you ever had because you weren't Spider, you weren't the forgotten child of Bruce Wayne and you weren't the straight A's student that people looked down upon because of how silent and antisocial you were. You were [Y/N], the one who beat 5 guys at arm wrestling, the friend who was dancing like crazy and how you just lost your virginity (the alcohol one, not the actual virginity).
You didn't really enjoy drinking, especially whenever you drank too much after a party and ended up with the worst hangover ever thanks to your powers, but it was a nice thing to do to de-stress after a long night or to just become free for a night with your friends.
One night you were still on patrol but had a long night because you had to stop many gang fights and even got shot on the leg, which you bandaged up but it was hurting and annoying you so you ended up drinking the entire bottle of vodka you had in your schoolbag, where you forgot to take out the bottle a friend put inside after you told them that you never drank it since you never had the opportunity to do so.
And you were a bit of a lightweight since you didn't start for too long and somehow you found yourself wandering around Gotham, drunk out of your mind and unaware of your surroundings. Yes people were taking videos of a drunk vigilante walking on the walls and street but didn't do much, especially when they saw a familiar clown approaching.
When Joker finally walked up to you with his usual smile, happy that he saw you since he could just use you after he noticed how Batman was attached to you, plus you looked incredibly drunk and you were stumbling around the empty street, still wearing your mask that was just rolled up enough that he could see your mouth, slightly open so he thought it would be easy to kidnap you by just using a crowbar.
Immediately, when you felt his hand touch your shoulder and his annoying laugh, you grabbed his hand and just slammed him into the ground with a judo flip, that you saw Damian do when you were watching him train alongside the others.
Your drunken mind didn't clock in that the person who touched you was the feared clown of Gotham, you just kept hitting his body with the crowbar that he had in hand after you took it off his hands after he tried to hit you with it when he had the chance to attack.
But you didn't let him, somehow your mind and body when under the influence were a better fighter than you actually thought, you weren't using your superstrenght most of the time and only if he actually posed as a threat when he tried to attack you once again.
During the fight your mask was taken by that clown, who probably got even angrier when he saw that you were just a kid and that looked like you were gonna fall asleep in any moment, which was why he even managed to hit you on the face. Unfortunately for him, his hit made you remember when Jason hit you and somehow awakened an anger and you just started to hit that man like there was no tomorrow.
Somehow, during the drunken fight between you and Joker that people were recording, you didn't notice three masked figures on a rooftop who were watching you fight that clown and were discussing when to butt in.
Dick was watching with glee as you hit the clown while also waiting for Oracle to tell him who Spider was once Joker took off your mask, amazed as he watched your fight.
He did feel anger whenever Joker managed to get a hit on you with his fists and had to be held back by Jason and Damian, since they both wanted to see you win and see you fight in real life instead of watching from the cameras, which didn't show all of the fights most of the time.
As he watched he did that you moved a bit weird, like you were under the influence and that made him panic because what if Joker actually tried to drug you? What if someone tried to kidnap you and he wasn't there to save you?!
Jason was also watching in glee when he saw you hit the Walmart clown with a crowbar, cheering whenever you hit him in the face with that crowbar. He would also yell out scores when you did that, not caring that people were filming him.
He did notice how sluggish you were when you moved and was also ready to jump down to help you, not wanting you to get badly hurt by that clown even though he knew that you could defend yourself.
Damian was watching and making small comments about your posture as you fought before noticing how many moves were incredibly similar to downright the same moves he did as he fought with random criminals, making his heart soar with respect and felt incredibly honoured that you were copying him. He knew that he was gonna show the footage to the others to show how much Spider was like him and how he's obviously the favourite since they're copying him.
He did found your face very familiar, like he met you once but he couldn't find any memory of you in his mind, making him frustrated and angry since he's supposed to be the heir of Wayne Enterprises, his memory shouldn't get worse so soon.
When you felt a hand on your shoulder and another grabbing the hand that was hitting the now dead Joker, you turned around and just kicked that person away with all your strength to a nearby dumpster and just prepared yourself for another fight.
You honestly couldn't really see who was close to you thanks to Joker punching you right in the face and making your eyesight a bit blurry that you honestly couldn't see who was approaching and just thought it was another guy or more trying to kidnap you, so you kept fighting by using your spider senses to find them.
It took Dick, a laughing Jason and an annoyed but amazed Damian to manage to stop you, leaving all of them with bruises and many injuries since you didn't hold your strength back. The indented dumpster after you kicked Damian when he tried to grab you and the hole in a wall after you missed punching Jason and got stuck in the wall was proof of it.
The last thing you remembered before falling asleep after getting a small injection in your neck was Jason's laugh even though he sounded like someone kicked him in the chest and Damian's exasperated voice as he talked with Dick and how they shouldn't let you near anything alcoholic anymore.
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You woke up the next day in your room, the headache from the hangover making you groan in pain, especially after feeling how sore your body was even though you couldn't remember anything from last night, before managing to get up without feeling like puking or falling, cursing yourself and making a mental note to never drink during patrol.
You slowly walked to the door, cursing your hangover since it felt like your door was farther away from you since you though you were in your usual room and not in another that looked exactly the same but you didn't really pay much attention to it since your head was killing you as you tried to think of anything.
You finally reached the door and opened it, immediately facing a surprised Bruce, making you confused and annoyed since you already felt like shit and seeing your father that never stepped up as a father to you made your headache worse.
You and the man stared at each other for a few seconds that felt like hours before you pushed him away and walked to where you thought the bathroom was, knowing that you needed to have a shower and probably puke your mind out.
When you finally walked out of the bathroom with a less painful headache after drinking some water from the sink and while you were showering, knowing it was safe since the Manor filtered the water, but the short-time happiness from the long shower was immediately ruined by Dick's loud voice as he talked about something you weren't paying attention to and him dragging you to the dining room where everyone was waiting for you, your headache coming back strong to even making you try and get away from his arms.
You groaned when he basically dropped you on the carpeted floor of the dining room, to which everyone's eyes were on you as you slowly got up and made your way to a random chair far away from everyone else, a bit weirded out since you actually never sat on a chair on the actual table. Hell, you probably never even stepped foot in the room in all the years you lived there.
You mumbled a thanks to Alfred when he set a bowl of soup in front of you and a few pills on a tissue next to your glass of water, to which you assumed it was for your headache and hangover.
You started to eat the soup without saying anything to anyone else at the table before looking up when you heard Bruce's voice saying your nome, ignoring how hesitant his voice was when he actually said your name, like it was the first time he ever actually pronounced your name out loud.
You stared at the older man who was supposed to be your father, hissing a little when the lights from the chandelier hits your eyes, too used to your poorly lit room and of the gloomy weather of Gotham that never lets any sun in so bright lights hurt your eyes.
"[Y/N], hun, I know you drank last night. And I am sure you know that drinking is bad for you, especially when you are underage. You could've hurt yourself and the people around you, which you did last night!" he said, his voice raising at the end before pointing at Dick, Jason and Damian, who you just noticed all had some bruises and looked uncomfortable while sitting on the chair.
Honestly, you didn't even feel bad. The only thing you felt bad about was not being able to remember anything about it. You hoped that someone took a video of it, god you hoped so hard.
As you thought of finding that video you suddenly noticed that Bruce was still talking, probably going on about the dangers of alcohol and what it could do to someone's liver after prolonged drinking, making you annoyed since he cares now? After years of ignoring your existence?
So you did what he did once when you were little, you just got up and left without a word to your room, not caring about anything he was saying. You didn't even know where you were going in the Mansion,thanks to how big it is and how you stuck to your room instead of exploring and ended up inside a small bedroom that looked like no one entered it for years thanks to the all the dust inside of it.
You opened the windows to let some air inside and found a few diaries as you snooped around before finding the holy grail of things you could find in anyone's room: an unopened bottle of rum in a hidden drawer that you might have broken while trying to open it because you were curious.
You were now loving whoever lived here and put the rum away in a pocket before walking out the room by the window so you could reach a bag you left on the rooftop that held a copy of your costume. Why did you had a bag there on the first place?
That was simple. You once forgot it while you were drinking on the rooftop when you had a horrible day and just forgot it there when you stumbled in your room by walking on the walls. And yes, the conversation you had with Alfred to ask him about having some money to buy all the stuff you needed to re-make the suit and re-create the voice modulator was very uncomfortable, especially when you knew you couldn't afford all of the stuff you needed even though you had a job.
And yes, you didn't have an allowance because Bruce never thought of giving you money and you had to take a job to just survive and not always ask for Alfred for money when you needed something for school or for dance practice.
As you reached the bad tied to an unused chimney, a small frown formed on your face when you saw the old design of your vigilante suit but still changed before putting the web shooters on your wrists, your bag already on your shoulders and the rum safely stashed in it and wrapped around your clothes to make sure it won't accidentally break while you were swinging around Gotham.
Once you got on a random rooftop of an abandoned building, which you made sure wasn't a rogue or a gang hideout before settling on it so you could finally drink the bottle you stole. You were close to one of the mafia's territory in Crime Alley but you didn't care which one it was, you only wanted to drink.
As you finally started to drink, your tongue tasting a hint of nutmeg and weirdly cinnamon with each sip you took, you slowly started to relax as the alcohol did its job, each sip making your head feel less heavy, like it was getting pumped full of helium and slowly making your forget about the pain your body was in.
God, you never wanted to stop, just four sips in and you were already past the tipsy part and you felt so free that anything you saw in the starless, polluted night of Gotham made you laugh like crazy. You finally felt like you belonged when you drank and that all the hatred, anger and the deep resentment you felt towards the Bats was calm, like a warm heavy blanket was put on those emotions.
As the night progressed, the bottle now half empty and your mind completely fuzzy, you started to hear noises and grunts of pain from one of the alleys near your spot, making you curious to see who it was and especially what was happening that would ruin your drinking night.
You slowly got up, your limbs feeling like jelly as you moved to walk on the side of the building, slipping a little as you stumbled around. After a bit you finally managed to get to the right alley when you realised you were on the wrong side of the building, and as you walked over you luckily avoided a frantic Nightwing grappling to a building.
You watched in silence when you finally got to the right alley and saw Black Mask, one of the criminals you knew his own goons feared because he could kill them if they did anything wrong in his eyes. You couldn't count the times you saw bodies in alleys when you were patrolling, their bodies covered in bruises and most of the time they were beat up beyond recognition that always made you sick.
But, unfortunately for you, your drunken mind decided to say something since you found his mask boring and weird. Like, compared to Jason's mask, his just looked boring and not really original. And you knew he was dangerous but noo, let's anger the mafia boss who kills with no mercy.
"He-Hey! You look ri"- you took a few sips of the rum - "uhh, oh yea! Ridiculous! Why that? No red, thought of being compared to Red Skull?" you started before your drunken mind just decided to go on a whole rant about his choices of brand and what he does with his goons.
As you were ranting about his ugliness and name choice, your spider senses made you dodge an incoming bullet shot at you but unfortunately Black Mask managed to hit your sacred bottle that still had most of its contents in it and you just watched with tears in your eyes as the alcohol ran out of your bottle to the ground.
The anger that surged in you after your drunken mind realised that he wasted your precious rum made you so angry that you didn't care who Black Mask is and threw the broken glass bottle at him and used his small distraction to web his chest and launch yourself at him, using all your strenght to punch his ugly masked face.
Using the moment and how distracted the man was, thanks to your punch, you kept hitting the man with all your strenght. Sadly, this moment of you overpowering the insult for eyes as a man as the man manages to catch one of your punches that was aiming for his stomach and pulled you forward to knee you on the chest, making you gasp for air and cough and almost made you puke but you anaged to keep it down.
Sadly, the bastard with no imagination for names started to hit you on the back of the head, making your vision blurred for a few seconds before your vision went back to normal thanks to your fast healing. You managed to avoid another one of his hits and quickly jumped on the wall and webbed him on the chest, pulling him forward and jumping on him, kicking him on the jaw.
You stared at the sad excuse of a original rogue as it stayed on the ground and slowly raised your hands like you won before grabbing the broken bottle of rum and walked on a wall, waiting as you watched the thing who you refused to acknowledge as a man get up and wobble around while the two goons he was hitting before already ran away.
Once it got up, obviously confused when you watched him look around and you waited until he got closer and hit him on the head with the bottle as a revenge for the wasted precious alcohol and then you quickly kicked him on the back to keep him down since you knew he was good at hand and hand combat and you knew that you couldn't win if he was lucid so you were lucky that you gave him a concussion with a lucky move.
You kept hitting the man-thing with the bottle with no care in the world, the blood splattering on the walls and the dumpster near you two, your smile the only thing he could see as you just kept hitting him, the bottle getting thrown away when it was completely broken from hitting his mask so you went back to using your hands, smashing his mask onto his scarred face, the alcohol in your body making you ignore how the shards of the mask were also getting embedded in your hands as you kept punching his face.
You stopped when your spider senses alerted you of danger and got ready to fight whoever it was that before getting hit with something and falling asleep, the last thing you managed to say before falling asleep was "fuck yall".
You woke up once again with weird cuffs on your wrists, but fortunately you weren't chained to the bed. You slowly got up from the bed and noiced two things: your hands were bandaged, making you confused as to what happened last night after you drank and both windows in the room had bars on it.
You managed to get up from the bed and walked to the door, your vision being a bit blurred as you looked around the room. You first walked to the window to see the bars and noticed how the bars were so close together and had such a small space between that even your finger couldn't pass through.
You then walked to the door and went to grab the doorknob but almost fell to the ground as you noticed too late that the doorknob was missing from the door. You quickly recovered and looked angrily at the door, punching it with all your strenght before realising that the cuffs were blocking your super-strenght when you felt an immense pain in your hand after you punched it and the door didn't fall down like you planned to.
You slowly retracted your hand from the door and started to pound the door with the other hand, yelling for Bruce and whoever lived in the fucking Manor, too angry and scared to care about the pain as your hand kept touching the door.
As you pounded on the door, you hoped that Alfred would come to save you from this room and explain why the hell you were stuck in a room with no way out, feeling trapped as minutes went by and no one came to explain what was happening and why you were trapped in that room.
You let out a huge sigh of relief when you heard footsteps coming your way and finally stopped pounding on the door, only now noticing the prints of blood on the door from your hand that was now bleeding profusely, making you almost cry as even slightly moving a finger brought you immense pain.
You looked up when you heard the door open and stared at Bruce and Alfred, who was holding a first aid kit, and moved to the side to let them enter, not wanting to fight until you knew why you were here.
You sat on a chair, who you now noticed was plastic, and let Alfred change the bandages on your hands while you stared at Bruce, waiting for an explanation before getting frustrated when he didn't say anything and just stared at you.
"What happened to me? Why are my hands bandaged?" you asked, staring directly at Bruce to hear his explanation, not remembering anything after you drank.
The man who you were told to call father just stared at you with a grim expression on his face "two days ago, after you snuck ou-" to which you interrupted him "I didn't sneak out, using those words would mean that you cared that I actually lived here and what these last 17 years showed me was that you don't care. Don't act like you do now".
You watched as the man acted like it didn't affect him but you knew that it did. You knew Bruce Wayne and he loves kids, you saw how he acted with Damian when he got hurt during patrol and how Jason once came home bleeding. You saw the man who you thought was heartless and didn't care about anyone cradle Jason's body as he carried him to the batcave, his face showing so many emotions that you never saw before.
You stayed silent as you watched him, giving an ok to Alfred when he asked if the bandages were too tight, still waiting for him to explain before sighing loudly when he just stared back at you.
"I went out to drink so what? Did I fight a gang member and somehow got so hurt that my hands need help healing?" you joked, wiggling your fingers to show your bandaged hands like it was something to be proud of.
To which Bruce seemed to get extremely mad about it "no, you decided to fight Black Mask after insulting him and ended up killing him. Damian and Cass had to sedate you as they thought you were a danger to yourself and to the civilians.".
After that you just stared at him before looking down at your own hands and looked at your knuckles who were staining your bandages since they were still bleeding. "So what? I didn't hurt someone innocent so why am I in a room with bars and no way out?" you asked angrily, not caring that you killed someone since you never viewed Black Mask as a person after everything you've seen him and his men do.
The man stared back at you "and this is exactly why you won't be let out until I know that you aren't a danger to the public" he said coldly and walked out with Alfred while you just stood there in shock.
You quickly ran to the door and started banging on it "NO NO NO! YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME HERE! I AM AN ADULT! YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME" you yelled as you banged to it, ignoring how their footsteps started to sound so far away while you cried and yelled in the room.
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klemen-tine · 1 year ago
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For the Greater Good (Platonic! Yandere Batfam x Uncle!MaleReader)
MAJOR WARNING: There is physical harm in this, near the end, please proceed with caution. Non-consensual drugging at the end as well.
Fun fact I learned but felt like I knew, some pain medications can actually make you lose your memories.
Reader is Bruce Wayne's younger brother.
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Crying woke him up. Groaning and rubbing his eyes, he sat up with a lot of effort and threw his legs over the edge of the bed. Grabbing his cane, he threw on a robe to protect himself from the chilly air the manor tends to have, and he hobbled out of his room. His leg was still stiff and he cursed at how long it took him to get to the room, but once he did he limped inside and towards the crib. 
He smiled down at the crying baby, dressed in the cutest starfish onesie. When crying blue eyes made eye contact with E/C eyes, the crying stopped and instead a smile bloomed on their chubby face. A chuckle escaped the exhausted man, reaching down carefully and picking the small thing up. He put his weight on his good leg and stood there, holding the little being in his arms. 
Their cheeks have filled out, creating a plumpness that reminded him of the cream puffs he has tucked away in the freezer, and those sparkling blue eyes were something many people would be jealous about. 
“You shouldn’t be up.” He could hear the cape swishing behind the other figure, and the all but silent footsteps that inched their way into the room. A smile bloomed on his own face, mimicking the baby, “Don’t come closer if you’re wearing that bat costume. You’ll give him nightmares.” A chuckle escaped from the other and when exhausted E/C eyes looked up, he was met with the amused blue eyes of his older brother. 
Bruce ignored his younger brother’s words, walking closer to peer at his nephew in his brother’s arms. His mask was off, and he only wore the suit and cape. This way his nephew could at least recognize his favorite Uncle’s face. To which the baby did, smiling and laughing when Bruce came into their line of suit. 
Y/N smiled, holding them closer and nuzzling his head with his cheek. Bruce watched his nephew flail his arms in that starfish onesie, making it all the more hilarious. His brother chuckled, gently bouncing the baby in his arms to try and soothe them. 
“You stink.” Bruce chuckled, “How rude. I just came back from patrol.” Y/N rolled his eyes, “Everyone alright?”
“Yes, everyone is safe. It was an easy night.” Y/N’s shoulders relaxed and Bruce observed how the exhaustion creeped up on his brother. His shoulders sagging and the bags under his eyes looking heavier. His grip on Bruce’s nephew tightened only a little bit, pulling the baby closer. 
If Bruce was better at art, it would be this moment he would wish to paint. The moon light streaming in through off-white curtains, over the sage green crib, and on the two bodies in front of him. His younger brother, wearing a black silk robe and his nephew in his starfish onesie being bathed in moonlight. The soft light reflecting off of H/C lock and S/C skin. It is the way that the moonlight casted soft shadows and seemed to only highlight his brother’s features. Blue eyes looked down to his nephew, who was fluttering those large blue eyes of his and trying to fight sleep. 
It’d be more beautiful than any other renaissance painting.
His nephew looked so much like Y/N when he was a baby. A memory Bruce holds onto with care. Besides the eye color, which blue was a common trait in Waynes, his nephew could be nearly identical to Y/N as a baby. From the smiles, to the happy laughs, the waking up in the middle of the night just to be held. 
It’s most likely what made this image all the more better. 
Until Y/N’s face screwed and Bruce watched him shift his weight a bit. Worry taking over his features, he rested a large hand on his brother’s shoulder, “Y/N, you should go to sleep.” Y/N shook his head, “Not yet.” 
“Y/N.” 
“No, Bruce. Just… just a bit longer.” He wanted to look at what was left of the life he once had. His baby was a reminder of the love he had once felt for another. A love he didn’t know he was capable of feeling, until a few years ago. The very proof of said love, the only thing left was his baby. This cute, innocent, and lovely baby that held Y/N’s heart. Or at least what was left of it. 
The Wayne brothers are intimately familiar with how quickly life can be taken away. Their parents’ lives taken by a bullet, and Y/N’s wife taken by a car. Anything could take this young life, and the very thought terrified Y/N. It had him jolting awake in the middle of the night and visiting the nursery whenever he could. His son was always near him, and he only just started letting himself leave the baby with his cousins, Uncle, and Grandfather alone. 
His heart always beats anxiously whenever he couldn’t see his son, but Alfred and Bruce assured him that that response was normal. Bruce has been helping get over that hurdle, slowly drawing him further and further away from the room his baby would be in for a longer period of time. 
Staring at the now sleeping bundle in his arms, all he wanted was to ingrain his son’s features into his memories. Just in case the grim reaper decided it needed another Wayne. If it does decide that, Y/N prays it’ll take him. He prays that it will leave Bruce and his nephews alone, that it would leave Alfred alone, and most importantly his son. 
With help from his brother, he set his son down in the crib, watching the baby stir for only a bit before grabbing Bruce’s outstretched arm. His cane in Bruce’s other hand, and Y/N chuckled. Looping his arm in his brother’s as the older, broader, and irritatingly taller man walked back to his room next door. 
“Do you want to take your medicine?” Y/N shook his head, “No. The pain isn’t bad, it was just a twinge.” Bruce nodded, sitting on the edge of bed and watching his brother settle under the thick comforters. He could see the anxiety forming in those eyes, and he knows if he doesn’t quell it now, Y/N will be up again to go see his son. 
Taking off his gloves, he gently began to run his fingers through his brother’s hair, softly lulling the other to sleep. Bruce smiled, “It’s okay, Y/N. Everyone will be here in the morning.” A few more minutes later, Y/N was softly snoring, taking deep breaths and his body no longer moving besides the stead rising and falling of his chest. 
Bruce shuffled quietly out the door, shutting it without a sound, and making his way back to his own room. No before checking in once more on his nephew. Bruce wasn’t as paranoid as Y/N was, but he did enjoy staring at the baby. Not with haunted looks like Y/N used to have, or the forever ogling gazes his own son’s had when looking at the youngest Wayne. 
He gazed upon the baby just how he used to stare at Y/N when he was this small. Waking up in the middle of the night to stare in fascination that a human could be so tiny. When he was younger, Bruce used to climb into the crib with Y/N and sleep next to him. It would be quite the sight in the morning, when either Alfred or his parents found him snuggled next to Y/N. 
Bruce is four years older than Y/N, and he took his older sibling role seriously. When they were younger, Bruce always had his hand in Y/N’s. Making sure that the other was never far from him. Which wasn’t hard even if they weren’t holding hands. Y/N has been attached to Bruce from the moment he could walk. 
His protectiveness increased ten-fold after that fateful night. A night that robbed the both of them of their parents, and Y/N of his mobility. His hip had been shot due to Bruce pulling him close to him. If Bruce didn’t that bullet would have hit Y/N’s stomach, and Alfred had explained that a limp is a small price when it comes to a life. 
Bruce had agreed. 
Y/N had never held it over Bruce. He never blamed him, nor has he ever given him a dirty look for it. 
The man wanted to ensure that his nephew will never have to go through what Y/N went through. He wanted this baby to grow up with a family already wrapped around those tiny, stubby fingers and he wanted Y/N to know that this family would bend over backwards for them. They would do everything in their powers for the two people that always seemed to be in the middle of everything. 
He’s grateful that his nephew inherited Y/N’s looks. From the shape of this eyes down to his nose, everything looked like Y/N. 
Nothing like that wretched woman. 
His jaw clenched at the thought of her, and he quickly walked around the crib to pull the curtains closed. Cutting out the moonlight that illuminated the room and leaving them in almost complete darkness besides the hallway light from the open door. 
He reached down, gently dragging his callused finger across the thin and fragile skin of his nephew’s cheek, who smiled in his sleep. Completely and devastatingly unaware of the mad house around him. 
++++
“What are you doing?” Y/N stared down at Cass and Stephanie that were surrounding his son. The baby’s hair tied up with a small bow, and looked like a radish. 
“Dress up,” Cass answered seriously, and Y/N nodded with a stoic face. Gone were the clothes he was dressed in early this morning and instead he was wearing a cute blue dress under a white top with puffed sleeves. 
“Why a dress?” Stephani snickered and pulled out a photo from nowhere, and she stood to hand it up to him. He took the photo and he brought his other hand up to rip it. 
“No!” Steph snatched it out his hands and Y/N stomped his cane, “Get rid of that! How did you even get that?!” It was a photo of him, as a baby, in girl clothes. Almost the same dress, same shirt, and same hairstyle. In the back was a cheekily grinning Bruce. 
“Bruce.” He’s killing him. 
“What?” Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Y/N whipped his glare towards his brother, “Why do you have that photo?!” Bruce blinked at him, took a look at the baby in the room, and then chuckled, “Oh, that photo.” 
Y/N hates that his brother knew what photo he was talking about by just looking at his son. 
“He’s cute.” Cass held up Y/N’s son, who continued to laugh and Steph whipped out her phone to take a photo. Y/N huffed, “I’m not mad you dressed him up. Bruce, why do you have that photo?!” 
His older brother shrugged, “It’s a cute photo.” Y/N’s cheeks burned and Bruce had to stop himself from chuckling, taking advantage of the fact that Y/N needed a hand to hold onto the cane, and he squished his brother’s cheeks with his own hands. 
“Bwuush.” Bruce watched those E/C eyes focus on him and fill with annoyance as well as with embarrassment. Those squished cheeks of his were red with a flush and Bruce knows that his baby brother’s nose would be scrunched if he wasn’t currently having his face squished. 
The man released Y/N’s cheeks, smiling as he did so. His nephew started laughing and he turned his attention to Steph and Cass who were cooing and taking photos. At least some people were enjoying this.
Y/N sighed, “What other photos do you have of me as baby?” Bruce’s smile turned cryptic smile, walking over to pick up the laughing and smiling baby who squealed in the arms of his Uncle. 
“Hey! We weren’t done!” Steph cried out, getting ready to try and snag the baby back, but Bruce cut her off, “It’s lunch time. Alfred is expecting us.” 
“Steph, Cass, at least put him back in his regular clothes,” Y/N tried to defend some of his son’s honor, knowing that as an adult the photos will be haunting him. Stephanie grabbed Cass’s hand and ran out of the room, pretending not to hear Y/N calling their names. The man huffed, turning to Bruce who shrugged, “I’m sure everyone will be fine with it.” “I know they will be fine with it. It’s just my poor son is going to be haunted by this story and these pictures.” Bruce chuckled, moving his nephew to sit in one arm, while his other hand rested on Y/N’s back. He gently guided Y/N to the dining room, listening to his brother complain about how this whole family was just filled with people who do what they want when they want. 
He was halfway through it when they heard running steps followed by a “Stop running!” Dick’s blue eyes locked on the three of him and his face looking feverish, “So they didn’t take him out of it!” Cheers were heard and Y/N swears that one day he’s going to club all of them. His oldest nephew walked over, his smile large as he took in his cute cousin who was babbling away and looking unbothered. 
“Uncle, he really does look like you in that photo.” 
“How do you know of that photo?!” Dick picked up his cousin from Bruce’s arms, and cooed at the chubby baby. Said baby squealed and gushed at the sight of Dick, raising his little hands and pawing at Dick’s cheeks and nose. It had Dick making a sqwauking sound and nuzzled his nose into those plump cheeks. 
He motioned for the two other adults to follow him, “Alfred made lasgana, caesar salad, and some bread loafs.” Y/N can already picture the mess his son will make and that poor dress of his is going to ruined. 
“Before he naps he’s going to need a bath,” He reminded Dick, who nodded, “Of course! Can’t have a dirty baby going to sleep dirty, now can we?” His hands held both sides of his cousin and he held him in the air as he wiggled him a bit, eliciting a cry of delight. 
The walk to the dining room was filled with Dick asking his Uncle questions and Bruce walking besides the limping man. Both of their attention on him as he answered Dick truthfully. 
“You guys are terrible,” Jason grumbled once he saw his cousin’s state, but it lacked any bite and he was holding back a smile. Stephanie cackled while Dick set the youngest Wayne in his high chair. 
“Master Y/N, I can feed the Young Master while you eat.” Y/N smiled at Alfred, “Are you sure? I don’t mind feeding him, Alfred.” The Butler huffed, “Of course. It is not a hard job to do.” It was something everyone was grateful for. The youngest Wayne was not, by any means, a picky eater. He was a joy to feed and oftentimes Y/N’s nieces and nephews fought over who could feed him. Although, everyone could admit that Alfred is the best when it comes to making sure that their cousin’s food ends up more in his mouth than on the tray. 
Smiling, Y/N and the rest of the Waynes dug into the italian-themed meal. 
Damian watched his Uncle eat from his peripheral vision. He took into account how much food he was eating and how much just spread throughout his plate to look like he ate some. When he had first moved in after the accident, it was a common thing to witness. Their once gluttonous Uncle, because Y/N could and does eat a lot, was barely taking any bites of the meals. 
The first month was hard on almost everybody. His Uncle always looked paranoid and he had his son sleeping in the same room as him. Damian understood that his Uncle was grieving and grief takes time. Even now, he could still see the signs of sadness in those E/C irises as he stared and took in everybody. Almost like it would be his last chance to do so. 
It is that look that puts everyone on high alert around him. Monitoring and excessively checking on him just how he does to his son. 
What Uncle Y/N doesn’t know won’t hurt him. 
After an eventful lunch, it was Uncle Y/N who ended up taking his son to go put down for a nap, balancing the baby in one arm and using the cane in the other, he masterfully evaded everyones’ hand to help and limped through the manor. 
Damian was the one to pull out his phone and watch the feed of his Uncle making it too his room with the baby still in his arms. Masterfully opening and keeping the door open until the both of them were in the room. 
“He made it.” 
“Good.” Call them cautious and they will agree. How could they not be? Y/N has had a tremendous impact on nearly all of their lives in some shape or form. His patience, kindness, and genuine happiness of just being alive was infectious and capable of attracting even the haughtiest of people. 
He was too good for someone like her. Someone who was so impatient, deceitful, and not worthy of Y/N’s attention. Let alone hand in marriage. 
When Y/N had first introduced her, everyone banked on it not lasting. It is why they did nothing to stop the continuation of the relationship. A simple fling. Only for two years later they would be married. It was only the revelation that she was pregnant that halted the plans for a bit. 
Seeing Y/N as happy and excited as he was was enough to stave off the anger. Bruce’s grip became more possessive, Dick’s hugs became tighter, Jason’s bookstore trip became more frequent, Tim’s help in learning how to run Wayne Enterprise more demanding, Stephanie’s and Cass need to go shopping became longer, Duke’s need to understand his metahuman abilities became more intense, and Damian’s desire for his blood-Uncle’s attention all the more prominent. 
Everyone all of a sudden needed something from Y/N more than before. 
Then when the baby was born, all of the Wayne’s were present, including those who didn’t fall under Bruce Wayne’s legal care. All of them waiting for Y/N and his son. 
Tim can recall his first time holding the baby, and how small he was. He had been terrified that he was going to break them, but Y/N’s careful guidance and soft instructions, that fear turned into admiration. To think, something this small could be this breathtaking. 
His blue, exhausted and surrounded by bags from the lack of sleep, looked up and sure enough, Y/N was staring at him and Tim’s new cousin with so much love. Those delicate hands, hands that Bruce dirtied his for so they would stay clean, held his forearms in a gentle grip as he helped Tim find the right bounce to ensure that the newborn stayed asleep. 
Tim quickly obtained that hospital video and saved it on the Batcomputer for everyone to remember the first time they held their cousin. 
There had been a huge argument after that. How long should they wait for their plan to be put into action? 
A lot of them wanted it to happen while their cousin was still a baby, unable to remember that woman’s face because she doesn’t matter. Only they did. Only Y/N did. Their cousin only needed to remember his father, Uncle, Grandfather, and cousins. 
That was it. 
But how young should they do it? Surely before any core memories were made right? Because then Y/N would only be hurt more. However, if they did it to young the stress might be too much for Y/N.
The first month after the accident was horrid. Y/N rarely got any sleep, and when he gory nightmares haunted him. The car was not supposed to crash in front of him, but by the time anyone made that realization it was already too late. The black car was completely crushed, and up in flames while Y/N could only hold their son and watch. Bruce was next to him, and he had caught his brother before his knees could hit the concrete. 
It was a horrible day for multiple parties, and the aftermath was just as bad. Y/N couldn;t even handle the funeral proceedings, to which Bruce and shockingly (and funny enough) Jason handled. The second oldest nephew responding to every whim and whimsey his Uncle had, doing everything in his power to make the pain lessen. 
Anything in the powers. Sometimes that meant anti-depressants and bumping up Y/N’s pain relievers. 
A loopy Y/N was a calm Y/N, and a calm Y/N meant a well-rested Y/N. Sometimes he would rarely leave the bed, trusting on someone to take care of his son. To which they all happily jumped on the chance to do. He’s been weening off of the pain medication, choosing to once again deal with small pain in his hip, but he stayed on the anti-depressants. 
That is the one pill everyone made sure he took. He needed them. Just how he needs this family. All he needs is this family. 
++++
“What did you do, Bruce?” Bruce had to stop himself from cursing at his luck and at the boys for also not nooticing. All five of them in this room and none of them heard Y/N enter? Of course he enters when a comment was made about make someone disappear just like Y/N’s wife. They wouldn’t have a hand in it, because they don’t kill, but is it a murder if one of them lets it slip what type of car she drove to the man she screwed over the most? 
It’s not their fault that her ex worked at the mechanic shop they frequented. It isn’t their fault that Tim accidentally said somethin about the car being his Aunt’s, because how was he supposed to knoow that the mechanic he was talking to was her crazy-ex? It’s not his fault. It’s not any of their fault, because she didn’t say anything about this. 
She lied, repeatedly over and over again to Y/N’s and everyone’s faces. Only, she lied to a house full of detectives, a former soldier Butler, and a man whose happiness was at the forefront of everyone’s reasoning.
“Y/N-” 
“What did you do?!” Terrified E/C eyes stared at Bruce’s rigid form. The older man did not intend for his younger brother to hear those words, and he didn’t like that all the blame was being pinned on him. It was a group effort. 
One they all happily took part in. 
Dick raised his hands, as if he could ease the tension, “Uncle, c’mon there might be a misunderstanding.” Vibrant E/C eyes, swirling with pain and rage, flickered to him and effectively shut him up for a bit. Jason, for once, chose to remain silent at the sight of conflict while Tim thought the paintings in the library looked interesting. Damian, like his father and oldest brother, was looking at him. 
Y/N could feel his heart beating faster and his head hurting. He didn’t want to believe it. How could he? His brother, the nephews he loves, and the nieces he adores, all conspired to kill his wife? 
Who… No, why? The question was written across his face and Bruce took it upon himself to clear the air. He motioned for the others to get out, which they did with no complaint. Dick sending him a guilty look, Jason not meeting his eyes, Tim and Damian sending an apologetic look before disappearing. 
The heavy doors of the office shut behind them and Y/N clenched his jaw. Bruce and him maintained eye contact, staring each other down. 
“It was a choice made by the Family.” 
“The hell is this? A mob?” Bruce stared into Y/N’s enraged eyes, and he sighed, “Y/N, I know this hurts but it is for the best.” 
“The best? The best for who?! Not for me! Not for my son! Not for your nephew!” 
“You don’t know that!”
“And you do?! What are you clairvoyant now?!” 
“She wasn’t good enough for you, Y/N.” 
“Who are you to decide that?” Y/N hissed out, glaring at him with all the rage and resentment in his body. The past three years of the family getting together, photos, smiles, all of it now burning in flames and he was choking on the smoke and ashes. 
How long had they been planning this? 
“Y/N-” 
“Don’t ‘Y/N’ me! Bruce, what the hell?!” It terrified him. His brother, the one he trusts most, and he just threw all of that back into his face. 
If Bruce could do that to someone Y/N loves, what's stopping Bruce from hurting him? Y/N’s eyes widened. What’s stopping Bruce from hurting his son? 
The boys walked out. 
His head whipped to the door, and was about to start making his way out to the nursery, but Bruce had grabbed his arm, kicking the cane from his grip and making Y/N rely on Bruce’s weight to keep standing. 
“Bruce, I swear to God, don’t you dare-” 
“My nephew will not be touched in any malicious way, if that is what you are so worried about.” Y/N snarled at him, trying to get out of his iron grip. 
“I don’t believe you.” Bruce nodded, “You don’t have to. Can’t you trust that your nephews won’t hurt him?” 
“No. How can I trust the murderers of my wife?” Bruce’s expression changed, and the hold on his arm tightened. Y/N’s teeth clenched, “How could you do that? I trusted you! I fucking trusted you and you go and…” The weight of the situation fell on his shoulders and Y/N would have crumbled if it weren’t for Bruce holding him up. Tears leaked from his eyes like they were faucets and his chest started aching. 
Bruce kissed the side of his head, and where he kissed felt like it burned. Like the heat of the fire on the day that car crashed with his wife in it. 
“I know. I know it hurts but it’ll get better Y/N.” 
“Don’t talk to me about something getting better when you’re the cause of it.” Bruce lowered them to the floor, making sure that Y/N was still out of reach of his cane. Y/N wanted to throw a punch, an elbow, or something to vent all the anger and pain he has in his body. However, the grip Bruce has around his arms keeps them pinned to his sides and it’s not like Y/N had the strongest legs. If they were to get into it, it would be literal boulder versus a twig. 
Bruce has always been the bigger one between then, even before Batman. Bruce had inherited Thomas Wayne’s imposing figure, while Y/N had Martha’s thinner one. His brother had been his rock, just how he had been Bruce’s now he wonders if Bruce was the heavy ball at the end of the chain. His nieces and nephews the chains, his son his collar, and the manor the cage. 
Y/N felt as if the reality around him was crumbling and he couldn’t even pick the pieces up. He choked down a sob, “How long have you been planning this?” 
“The accident or having you here?” 
“All of it.” Bruce rested his forehead on Y/N’s shoulder, “You were supposed to stay here in the manor. The very thought of someone being more important than me, than Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, Alfred, all of them, it is so infuriating and terrifying.
“Because I was scared that one day you would leave me, alone in this manor with only the walls to talk to and the mirrors for company.” Y/N glared at him through his tears, “You’re lack of faith in me is astounding.” He would never have left Bruce, because they are all they had left of their family. 
Not to mention, Bruce has the boys and girls for company. He wouldn’t have been alone. There’s Alfred and Y/N would have visited. 
“I know its not an excuse, but dammit Y/N, it’s so terrifying.” Y/N tried to still his beatin heart, pumping his blood throuoghout his body and making him want to run. He wants to leave. He really, really, wants to leave. Y/N wants to pick his baby up and run. 
“Do you know why I am telling you this?” Bruce’s grip loosened and Y/N waited until those arms removed themselves from around him and he lunged for his cane. Only for a large handd to wrap around the ankle of his bad leg and pulled. Dragging him away from the cane and causing Y/N to shout in pain. 
He stared up at his older brother in fear, his leg still in Bruce’s iroon grip. Y/N wonders if this is what criminals see when looking at Batman. 
“Because you’re not going to remember it.” His foot stomped on Y/N’s hip and there was a sickening crack and white flashed behind his eyelids. The scream he released sounded foreign to his own ears, and the tears now became ones of physical pain rather than emotional. 
He started coughing from the amount of screaming and crying, and Bruce continued to look down at him. His eyes full of sorrow, but also acceptance. He was looking at Y/N similar to a parent getting ready to discipline their kid. Not wanting to but needing too. 
Bruce released Y/N’s leg, eliciting another cry and he widened his eyes when he saw Bruce raise his foot again, “Wa-wait, Bruce–”
“It’s not believable if you only have a break in your hip.” There was another crunch and Y/N’s not even sure what broke but the scream he released was silent. The pain was excruciating and the questions searing into his brain. Who is he trying to make believe and believe what? 
“You of course.” Bruce stared at his brother on the floor, and he knows Y/N’s screams and crying are going to haunt him but it is for the better. Y/N’s watery E/C eyes stared at him in fear and pain, tears rushing down his blotchy face and confusion across his face. 
“Poor Y/N, you fell and broke your leg. So now you have to go back on your pain meds and now bedridden for a while.” Fear coursed through Y/N’s veins and although he knew it was futile he tried to crawl. His older brother watched, before walking behind his desk and rummaging through the drawers. Y/N wasn’t even close to the door when Bruce stood over him, and gently flipped him over.  
Y/N screamed, trying to get away from his brother, but with one leg out of commission and his one arm now pinned to his side, it was a futile struggle. 
“Get away! NO! I hate you! I absolutely fucking hate you.” Bruce held a pill in his hand, and in his mouth between his teeth was a water bottle. Y/N clammed up, biting his lips to keep them closed as Bruce came in closer with a pill. He wanted to knock it out of the other’s hand, but before he could even do that, Bruce’s knee rested on his broken hip and Y/N cried out in pain. His brother was quick in shoving the pill in his mouth, covering the orifice, and opening the bottle with the other arms that were pinning Y/N’s arm. He all but waterboarded Y/N with it, washing the pill down. 
Afterwards, he held Y/N and slowly rocked back and forth in a mocking show of comfort. Y/N hit him, bit, and tried to shove him off. His cursing and shouting fell on deaf ears and the drug was beginning to take effect. His limbs became heavier and eyelids stayed closed longer. 
“Shh Y/N, just sleep. It’ll be better in the morning.” Feeling one last bit of defiance, Y/N glared at his brother, “Tell me how you can kill my wife, but are unable to kill the Joker?” His eyes were closed by the end of the sentence, unable to see his brother’s reaction, but he heard the tight, “Good night, Y/N.” 
++++
Crying woke him up. Groaning and rubbing his eyes, he tried too sit up but realized in confusion that his leg was casted and his head was incredibly foggy. A sound of discontent left him, but then there was a shuffling in the room and the crying stopped. In his blurry vision he saw Dick holding his son and Tim gazing at him softly. 
“What…” 
“You fell, Uncle. You broke your hip and shin and your cane unfortunately broke as well,” Tim informed as clinically as he could, holding his Uncle’s hand and staring into the hazy eyes. 
“We had to give you a higher dosage of pain medication, and you’ll need to stay on them for a bit.” Y/N nodded in understanding, his attention returning to his gurgling son and smiling Dick, “It was terrifying Uncle, seeing you laying there like that. It’s a good thing Bruce and Timmy found you. Can’t imagine how bad it would have been if you were on your own.” 
Y/N blinked, the situation dawning on him, “Yeah, that…that would be bad. Sorry Timmy, you had to see me in a traumatic state.” Tim shook his head, “No, I’m happy we found you when we did. I’m sorry that we didn’t get there sooner.”  Y/N smiled, moving his arm to gently cup Tim’s cheek. It took all the effort in him to even make it that short distance, but Tim rested his own hand against the back of Y/N’s, nuzzling his cheek further into Y/N’s palm. 
“Sleep Uncle, we’ll all be here when you wake up,” Dick encouraged, sitting next to Tim and bouncing his cousin. Y/N chuckled, “Okay. Please watch–” 
“We will Uncle. Now, please rest. You and our cousin will be safe, I promise.” Y/N made a small hum before shutting his eyes once more, dreaming of when he and Bruce used to play in their mother’s garden. 
________________________________________________________
Very Dark on this one. Was not the intention at all, but that's how it happened....
2K notes · View notes
artemis32 · 6 months ago
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yandere Tim Drake i
this man has the sluttiest undercut I've ever seen - also, this is shit, but you pretend to love it, okay? Okay.
dc masterlist
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Thinking about Tim Drake, who, in all his time as Red Robin, has never once caught a break.
He's always busy, always out on patrol, busting drug rings or trafficking schemes, always locked up in a dark, soulless room doing research for Bruce, always doing something.
So, one day, when he finds a small slice of heaven, a refuge from the never ending list of responsibilities he has to see to, he's sure to grab it with both hands and keep it close to his chest.
He, somewhat guiltily, doesn't tell anyone about it. It feels like something just for him - a space for him to relax, where he doesn't have to pretend he has his whole life together.
Maybe it's a dusty old library hidden between the high-rises of Gotham Central, maybe it's a dingy cybercafe he stumbled upon after a long night of patrol. Or perhaps it's not even a physical place - maybe it's an online forum or group chat of some kind.
No matter what it might've been, it had grown to be a safe haven. And it only becomes better when, one stupidly sweltering summer afternoon, you slip in.
Sweet, oblivious you.
God, he loved you. You were everything he wanted to be. Free of all worry and hardship, at least in his eyes. You were innocent and so sickly sweet. He loved everything about you. From the way your eyes sparkled when you got excited, and the animated way you spoke, using your hands to make wide, sweeping gestures, to the tired scowl that pinched your mouth and brow after a long day.
The clothes you wore, the way you smelled, the beautiful, soft glow of your skin, he loved it all.
****
He loved you.
Only, you didn't exactly know he existed. And he never actually, you know, spoke to you. But that didn't matter! No, not at all, not when he had enough love for the both of you.
He knew everything about you.
Where you lived, how old you were, your likes and dislikes, every dirty little secret you thought you could hide away, things you thought were kept concealed in the corners of your mind.
He knew, and he loved you regardless. Not in spite of them, but rather, because of them. He loved that you were so flawed, so imperfect, and yet still so innocent to your core. He felt the deep seated need to keep you that way, to maintain that innocence and shield it from the horrors of Gotham, of the world.
That was why he watched over you, every hour of every day.
Did he think it was wrong, or creepy? Yeah, a bit, but he didn't really care to change. How bad could his actions really be, if they were keeping you safe?
So what if hacking all your devices and bugging your house wasn't legal? He was a vigilante, he was just doing his job. So what if he put a tracker in every pair of shoes you owned? He just needed to keep track of your movements, make sure you weren't wandering off anywhere too dangerous.
More than a few times, he'd followed you at night, watching from above as you ambled through the streets of Gotham, completely oblivious to how vulnerable you were. Really, how did you manage to survive this long without him watching over you? Do you even know how many robberies and assaults he'd saved you from before they'd happened?
He held off on actually speaking to you, as Tim Drake or Red Robin. Maybe it was nerves, or fear, or something beyond the words he had to communicate what he felt for you. Regardless, he was content watching you from the side lines.
For now.
****
After a while of watching from a distance, he'd decided he needed a bit more than just the sight of you. That's how he ended up donning his Red Robin costume and letting himself into your apartment one night to watch over you as you slept.
It had quickly become an admittedly bad habit, one that he didn't bother trying to correct.
Watching you calmed something within him, something he hadn't even known was there. He'd started including your small apartment on his patrols, at least three times a week, and it's become the highlight of his day.
Then, one day, months after this little song and game of his started, he decided enough was enough. Why was he being so weird and pathetic about it? He was a hero. He was smart, and attractive (or at least, that's what his mother used to say), and he was rich. He was the whole package. What more could someone ask for?
So, he bit the bullet and talked to you. Or, he would have, if you'd actually, you know, shown up. But you didn't. And that was fine! Totally, 100% fine! It wasn't like he felt disappointed or angry or anything. He'd just try again another time.
Only... in the months that he'd known you, his patience had dwindled to a near trickle, and he realised he couldn't wait. And so, he made probably the dumbest, most rookie mistake of his vigilante career.
He snuck into your apartment and, naturally, as one does, revealed himself to you. In full costume, mask and all. Well, the mask had come off about ten minutes into his fanatical rant, but-
Wait, why were you looking at him like that?
No, no, don't- don't back away. Hey, why were you reaching for your phone? Who were you calling?
The police? No, no, no, no, no- This isn't how it was supposed to go, damnit!
****
Now, watching you sleep in his bed, so cosy and soft, as if you belonged there (you did belong there), he chides himself for not doing this sooner.
What was he so scared of? Sure, you'd seemed a bit overwhelmed when he'd dropped onto your balcony and stepped into your apartment, but it was probably just sheer joy that had you screaming like that.
And, well, sure, you'd rambled on about him watching you for months prior - which he had - but for you to call it 'stalking' seemed like a bit of an over exaggeration.
Despite all that, he knew - knew - that you'd be so happy when you woke up. As happy as you made him. Because despite everything going on in his life - his struggles as Robin, with Batman and Damian, with Stephanie and Connor, and leading the Young Justice team - despite all that, he had you.
And just the thought of you alone brightened his day.
Now? Having you here, with him, for the foreseeable future?
That alone made whatever anger or fear you may have towards him worth it.
And, you know, they did say love blinds people. So maybe you were right about all that (Doubtful. He was smart. He was also right about all this).
But it didn't really matter. Not now, not when you were finally his.
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too-much-tma-stuff · 8 months ago
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Finally Getting Help (pt 15)
Masterpost
The conversation trailed off as the stars came out and Danny started to watch them, head propped against Jason’s shoulder as he stared up at the sky. Jason was content to watch the fire, the flickering was hypnotic. Time passed slowly, until Danny gave a jaw cracking yawn that made Jason chuckle.
“How about we douse the fire and head to bed huh? It’s been a long day,” Jason suggested and Danny nodded, reluctantly pulling away from Jason he got up with a groan. Jason was about to go grab a bucket of water when Danny gestured and a wash of frost rushed over the ground and doused the fire with a sizzle and a puff of smoke and steam. “How many powers do you have?” Jason blurted.
“I don’t even know, I’m still developing them sometimes,” Danny sighed as he shuffled towards the tent “Clockwork says it’s something to do with me being half human. Most ghost’s powers are sort of stuck but I’m still growing and changing so I can keep learning. I sort of eventually figure out any power I see anyone else use. As long as they’re not too specialized, I’m not going to learn time manipulation just cause I saw Clockwork do it.” 
“Clockwork?” Jason asked as he followed Danny. 
“The ancient of time, he keeps an eye out for me. He means well, even though he’s a cryptic asshole most of the time.” 
“Daniel!” A voice Jason didn’t recognize shouted, but he was guessing Danny did, and it was not a welcome visitor by the way he flinched and immediately looked up with glowing green eyes. “I knew if I kept the trackers on you you would leave that god forsaken mansion eventually.” An odd, almost vampiric looking man with red eyes said as he floated down towards them. 
Jason still didn’t recognize the man but he didn't think anyone who looked That sinister could be a good guy. From the way that he was floating and context clues Jason could guess that this was a ghost. God Damn it! He only had one of his normal guns on him, he had put down the blaster! With the stranger's attention on Danny Jason scrambled for his gun.
“Vlad, what part of ‘stay the hell away from me’ don’t you understand?” Danny snarled.
Shit Vlad? Vlad masters the baby daddy? Jason felt a snarl rip its way out of his own throat, the pit swirling furiously inside him making him want to kill something. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling though it didn’t happen as often these days. At least Vlad only seemed to have eyes for Danny, he probably didn’t register Jason as a threat, or even a person of interest. It was a little unflattering but it gave Jason an opening to go for the blaster in his bag.
“I thought you said you would never allow a billionaire to adopt you, clearly something has changed. Come with me Daniel, I understand you infinitely better than Bruce Wayne,” He spat the name with contempt. “I can take care of you and-” 
Jason got the gun and fired, his aim was true, the glowing green blast struck Vlad squarely in the stomach and he reared back with a pained yowl, red eyes snapping to Jason. He touched the wound in his stomach, dripping green blood, it wasn’t as deep as Jason would have liked and it was already healing fast, but Still, he’d done some damage and Vlad seemed furious. 
“You insolent brat!” He growled, holding out hands that were glowing with energy. Jason tensed to dodge but before he could Danny was in front of him, a shield of green energy in front of him. 
“ENOUGH!” Danny yelled, and changed form, shooting up into the sky he fired back at Vlad, rabidly throwing bolts of green energy at him. “I have had ENOUGH! You have drugged me, kidnapped me, threatened my friends, cloned me, and then killed the clones when they weren’t perfect.” Danny landed a hit, Vlad was unable to dodge or block so many in a row and he let out a grunt as Danny struck his chest, pushing him back a few feet. 
Vlad tried to duplicate himself to shield himself but Danny shot them as quickly as they were made, making them disappear in puffs of smoke and screams. Once they were gone he focused again on Vlad. His eyes were glowing even brighter with frustration and rage as he directed both hands at his attacker and shot an even more powerful blast, landing a hit on Vlad that sent him trembling back, clutching a bloody and swollen nose. 
“You are a pathetic, terrible, Lonely failure and you always will be! You will never get what you want! NEVER YOU HEAR ME?! YOu stay the hell away from me and my kids! MY kids! Or I will fucking kill you!” Danny swore, shooting at Vlad again, who barely managed a clumsy dodge. 
“Come now Daniel you don’t mean that,” Vlad said but for the first time he sounded nervous. Danny had never lost his temper like this before, they’d fought, but he’d never even sworn.
They were distracted again and Jason had a clear shot, Vlad was clearly tough if he took a shot to these shots running but he couldn’t be indestructible. He shot again, aiming for the head this time, unfortunately the green glow gave him away and Vlad dropped down to avoid it. Vlad shot back, and Jason threw himself out of the way and rolled back up to his feet, ready to dodge, or fire again. 
“No!” Danny shouted at Vlad, flying at him so fast he barely had time to throw up a shield of his own before Danny collided with him, forcing him back again. His hands pressed against the shield, glowing toxic green before the close range blast broke the shield and sent Vlad tumbling through the air. “I put up with you for the sake of my parents and my secret but now that doesn’t matter anymore I have no reason to go easy on you! I’m done! I’m done with you!” 
And then he screamed, that same earth shattering wail, and with Vlad already knocked off balance, bleeding green from his chest, his nose, and generally beaten to hell, he had no defense. The sound forced him down with more than the force than gravity, the sound and impact leveled trees in a near perfect circle and left a crater in the soft earth at the bank of the lake. And Danny just kept screaming, pushing Vlad deeper into the wet earth. Jason could see that Vlad was screaming too, probably from the pain, but he couldn’t hear anything over the feeling of Danny’s wail.
Jason wanted to clamp his own hands over his ears and block out the sound but he couldn’t, he needed to keep hold of his blaster, and remain ready. The water rushed in and covered Vlad quickly once Danny stopped screaming. Jason bolted towards the edge of the new cove for Vlad to emerge. 
He came up gasping and coughing, floundering before he grabbed the edge of the hole and dragged himself out. Jason was there to meet him with a gun to his head and a glowing green glare of his own. Jason wanted to shoot Vlad and kill him, but he didn’t want to do that in front of Danny. For all he had just said he would kill Vlad Jason didn’t think he really meant it. Danny wasn't a killer at heart.  
“Stay very still,” He said calmly once Vlad had finished hacking up all the water he’d breathed in. He kept one hand on the gun and his finger on the trigger as he pulled a com out of his pocket, sliding it into his ear and turning it on. “O? Are you there?”
“Hood? Report?” Bruce’s clipped ‘batman’ voice came through.
“Vlad crashed the party, Track our location, I have him pinned,” Jason said without taking his eyes off Vlad who was still breathing hard and bleeding, glaring up at him. 
“On our way,” Bruce said quickly. “ETA 18 minutes.” 
“Very well done Todd,” Vlad drawled dryly and Jason twitched, of course since he’d been to Galas Vlad would know who he was, but Jason still did Not like it. “But you might want to look out, I believe young Daniel is in need of rescue.”
Jason knew better, he really did, but he couldn’t help glancing up quickly, and he was glad he did. He was just in time to see Danny revert to his human form and fall. Jason barely managed not to drop the gun as he ran to catch Danny, taking the brunt of the impact and going to his knees to keep them both intact through the landing. 
“Danny?” He gasped, pushing the other man’s hair back from his face, his eyes were closed and he wasn’t responding to his name but he was breathing. Jason glanced over to see Vlad was already gone. “Shit. B, you still there?”
“Yes. What happened Jay?” He asked, sounding more worried, more like Bruce. 
“Danny passed out,” Jason said as he set the other man down, grabbing a light and checking his pupils. “Pupils are responsive but he’s not waking up even with the light shining in his face. Vlad escaped but he couldn’t have gotten far in that condition. Danny really gave him hell.” 
“We’ll be there soon,” Bruce said, clipped and determined. Jason could hear the motor in the background, if he was pushing the usually silent jet to the point it was making that sound he really would be there in minutes. 
Jason sat down and pulled Danny nearly into his lap, still holding the gun just in case. He thought Vlad had made a break for it but he didn’t want to let his guard down. After all he had thought Vlad would be smarter then to attack them today, he had clearly underestimated the man’s obsessiveness and stupidity. The last thing he needed now was for Vlad to try and make a break for it with Danny while he was so vulnerable. 
He was rocking just a little, he didn’t know if he was trying to sooth Danny or himself as he waited for Bruce and whichever of his siblings were tagging along to arrive. He thought that he was in shock judging by how vague he felt and the odd aura at the edges of his vision. It was always sort of funny having the vague knowledge that he Was in shock but not really being able to do anything about it.
He looked up when he heard the bat-plane overhead and watched it coming in for a water landing. Finally feeling safe enough to holster his gun, freeing both hands to scoop Danny into his arms, getting up with Danny still cradled close. It wasn’t like the other man was heavy, Jason stumbled just a little as he went over to meet his family as the ramp dropped and they came rushing out. 
“Any idea what’s wrong with him?” Batman asked gruffly, going straight to them pushing a medical gurney.
“I think he just overused his powers,” Jason said numbly, putting Danny down on the rolling bed and followed Bruce back into the plane and the same time Spoiler, Blackbat, and Red Robin took off into the woods, to search for Vlad no doubt. Jason hoped they found him but somehow he doubted they would, Vlad could turn invisible and intangible after all, and Danny hadn’t had time to build them everything they’d need. Even with a decent amount of confiscated Fenton tech Jason didn’t like their odds. 
“He has this sonic attack that's really strong but seems to take a lot out of him. He passed out pretty soon after using it the second time,” He explained, sitting down heavily next to the bed as Bruce fussed and checked Danny’s vitals. 
“His heartbeat is slow but strong, pupils responding, like you said, he isn’t visibly injured. I think you’re right he over used it. We’ll set up an IV just to give him some energy and hydration and hopefully he’ll wake up soon. He’ll be okay Jay,” Bruce said, pausing to rest a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “I’ll take you back to the manor, I’m sure the others will find Vlad.”
“They’ve all got their wards?” Jason asked distractedly and Bruce nodded as he buckled Danny and the gurney in securely so he wouldn’t roll around during transport. “Good, ya, let's go home. I’m sorry, taking him camping was stupid. It was helping but I should have known that with Vlad still out there-”
“No, we didn’t see this coming, it’s not your fault,” Bruce interrupted, before sitting back in the pilot's seat and taking off. 
Jason didn’t agree, but he didn’t argue either. No one had argued with him, he was sure they’d all thought, like he did, that with the entire justice league after him and the ‘woman of his dreams’ behind bars Vlad would have bigger things to worry about. They’d all underestimated just how obsessed with Danny Vlad was, in this family of obsessive assholes it was a particularly foolish mistake.
Next
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cheust · 22 hours ago
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I really love your pit fighter reader ideas. I think it's cool to see the reader as something other than a goody-two-shoes. I wonder what it would be like if the Bat-family went to one of the reader's underground fights (undercover, of course), seeing them be a demon in the ring and how violent the crowd would be, shouting their fighting name while the reader is smiling like they're on the strongest drug known to man. LOVE The love fight, the love from the crowd, and the love from people who don't even know them. I also really want to know how the different members of the family would react.
I love a reader that's a little messed up, that's rightfully messed up. The Batfam messed them up, with them craving attention so much, they want to be seem to be heard and noticed, but they have gone without it so long that when they began fighting and getting that attention? it was like someone injected them with a powerful and addictive drug. They love how the adrenaline feels, the sweat, the blood, how their heart feels like its going to explode with how much they are fighting. its all so so addictive. Even the pain is good, it makes them feel alive.
Bruce:
Bruce is concerned and shocked. How did this happen? you were such a gentle and quiet child in his memory, so what happened?? How could have happened to you under his roof? He is going to take you home right then and there. No if ands or buts, he's taking you home so that you and him can talk. actually talk. He doesnt want you to get hurt or hurt yourself, your not meant to be fighting!! or be around those people, come home, come back with him and lets get you cleaned up, okay? His care disgusts you.
Dick:
Like Bruce, is shocked, but his shock comes from the fact he had no idea that you were angry just like him. People often forget that Dick was a very angry child in the comics, and that he was being prepared to become a talon, he has tendencies that mirror yours. He sees a kindred spirit, someone who knows, knows how he feels and still feels it. It moves him. Its like he's seeing you for the first time. He sees you as his sibling, one that needs help sure, but one that he can see and who sees him.
Jason
He's cheering with the crowd!! He's chanting your fighter name and screaming at you to rip your opponents head off (Bruce has a talk with him afterwords). He's related that he's not the only fucked up one now, he's in heaven knowing that you are also a street rat in a way. You move, walk and talk like them, you move with them, you are them. Jason loves it. He loves that you are also violent, he wants to box with you so badly! he wants to know how hard you hit, because wow, TWO teeth came out of that guy!! Mullers too!!! Oh hohoho this is gonna be great, especially since he can see Bruce hair greying right now.
Tim
Hes amazed, like wow, you have been doing all of this while no one has been looking? what else have you been doing while they haven't been looking? How many connections do you have? what do you know [name]? tell him. tell him everything. He wont stop til he has cracked open your skull and studied the intricacies he never expected you to have, to see every scar you possess literally and figuratively. he hasn't felt this strong of a hyperfixation in such a long time, since he was curious about batman. The look he gives you makes your skin crawl. Like a starving animal.
Duke
Duke has always known you had secrets, secrets that you were not ready or willing to tell him. He respects it, of course he does, especially since he knows its kinda a Wayne thing, to be private and secretive. Although he knows you are the 'least' secretive, at least in his eyes. But now that he sees this secret? wow! this is so cool!! he and Jason are grabbing the railing and watching as you fight, screaming that he knows you when you win, but then getting immediately concerned when he sees you wobble slightly, blood dripping down from your nose, you took a heavy hit, it makes him concerned, especially with how fast you perk back up, wiping the blood from your face as you walk into the underground, away from the saving light of the Pit. he slips away to check on you before the others can.
Cas
She thinks its beautiful how you fight. The way your body moves and twists as you deflect hits and throw your own. Shes memorized at how presice you are, its like a dance, one she would love to be a part of with you. However seeing someone who she thought was 'free' of the 'family business' somehow finding thier place in the fighting and bloodshed of their enemies saddens her. She hopes that she can get to know you, especially now.
Steph
With Jason and Duke, shes standing on the railing to get a better view while also screaming at you to 'rip them apart'. She never knew you were so cool?? how did you keep such a secret from them?? your better at hiding stuff than she or the others thought, you were even able to hide this from Cassandra 'the human lie detector' Cain. She wants to know what you know now, what kind of stories can you tell and where are the places you have gone. She thinks your especially cool when you stomp on your opponent after they tried pulling a weapon on you in the ring. squealing at how cool it was.
Damian
He has always known you were a fighter, after all you took him to your gym to meet Pops and your boxing and mixed martial arts buddies. He had no idea you did... this. How unbecoming of you! You are a Wayne, you do not belong in such a disgusting place! if you wanted to fight then you should have come to him and the both of you could have sparred, you didnt have to come... here. He hates the people who bet on you and against you, as if you were some poor hound in one of their dog fights. It disgusted him more when he heard people talk about his sibling in a lewd manner. Dick had to help him calm down before he pulled the sword out, while also holding himself back.
When you go into the underground for a break and take your cash, damian is right there, scowling at you with his arms crossed, angry at you for not telling him while also worried because, why is there so much blood on you? how long have you been fighting tonight?
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I hope I did Cas, Duke, and Steph justice, I still don't know much about them but I'm reading comics and watching videos.
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billloveshushu · 6 days ago
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Chapter 01 - 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭
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✦━ Platonic Batfamily x BabyOC.
✧Synopsis━ a baby was rescued by Batman on one of his missions, feeling responsible, Bruce decided to adopt her. But the question is that the baby knew she was in the comic book world, not knowing how to react or why, will she survive in this traumatized family?
✦ ("") thoughts (━) dialogue ✦
English is not my original language, the translation was done by Google Translate. So sorry for any spelling mistakes.
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In a luxurious mansion, there was a room that was different from the other rooms, which were clean and organized but all lonely and without a hint of life, showing that someone had lived there for a long time, but in this room the floor was padded by a soft carpet. and there were toys and stuffed bears scattered everywhere, the drawers on the walls were full of diapers, powder and baby wipes, and in the corner of the room there was a baby bed.
Inside it was a small baby with a very peculiar appearance, it had black skin the color of chocolate, with vibrant red hair that highlighted its light brown eyes, the baby looked around confused and in disbelief at what was happening.
" How did I end up here? "
Just two days ago she was in the hospital, remembering few things, until a nurse came and took her to an elegant man in a suit who was accompanied by an old man. When she heard the nurse say the man's name, something clicked in her head: " Bruce Wayne!? "
Suddenly, a whole bar of comic books appeared in her mind, comic books that she loved reading, but her favorite stories were about a hero called Batman, with his family that was called the Batfamily. It was then that she realized that she was in the world of comics and that the man talking to the nurse was the fearsome Batman.
She spent the entire trip to Wayne Manor in a daze and hadn't even noticed Bruce's certain ignorance, anyway on the first day she just stared at Alfred and Bruce wondering if it was really real. Only the next day when she was woken up by Alfred did she start to wonder why she was in the mansion, was she adopted? But knowing Bruce he would never adopt a baby with the life he leads as Batman.
So there is only one option left, something tragic happened that she doesn't remember, and maybe that's why she was admitted to the hospital. Well, her theory was right, and she found out thanks to the discussion that was happening on the nursery side. The baby looked at the butler who, despite being quite old, was standing firm and with good posture, arguing with Bruce who had bandages on his face, he was wearing a white shirt that showed that his face wasn't the only injured part.
Alfred was trying to get Bruce to stay and recover from his wounds, but Bruce didn't care about his injuries and said he would go back to the streets tonight and capture those miserable groups. That's when she discovered his story.
Apparently, she was rescued by Batman in one of his most complicated missions, where he was investigating, together with Barbara Gordon (Oracle), the largest human trafficking network in Gotham City. During the mission they even had help from several villains who also didn't like this situation, they found the drug dealers' hideout and planned to end it all that night but it didn't go as planned, the drug dealers had an ace up their sleeve.
They planted bombs in one of their trafficking sites, which was disguised as an orphanage, the problem was that there were children living there, they did this on purpose in case Batman found them, they knew he would drop everything to save them.
In the end they managed to escape and Batman didn't arrive in time, he could only see the big explosion happening in front of him, he managed to save a few children who still had several burns and many were killed by the explosion, the Wayne Industry Corporation financed all the support financial support for the victims including the funerals, and the victims' funeral took place on a cloudy and rainy day, where all of Gotham mourned for the innocent lives.
She could see the anger on his face, perhaps disappointment with himself too, Alfred was the same way, outraged at the poor children's lives that were used but he remained calm knowing that he had to treat his master/son's injuries.
━ Mr. Bruce, I understand your anger but you cannot leave right after your recovery.
━But Alfred! I can't stay here knowing that they will be out there on the loose!
Alfred frowns but stops, knowing he won't be able to convince the bat man any further. Suddenly a noise arose, the two men looked at the baby who was embarrassed and placed her hands on her belly, relieving the tension in the room. Alfred went to make the milk and left the room, Bruce put his hand on his forehead irritably and sat down on a sofa in the room.
She looked at the melancholy man "even though it's the first time I've seen him in person, doesn't he look older?"
His face had bandaged wounds, droopy eyes that screamed for sleep, and an unfinished drool, he was clearly dejected by recent events, showing that carrying the mantle of Batman was not easy.
This is not surprising, for the sake of Batman he sacrificed many things including his physical and mental health, but the thing he hated most was hurting or worrying Alfred, he knew that the butler wanted him to rest for his own good, and yet he acted like a child. While he was mourning, Bruce felt the baby looking at him, but he didn't dare look back, since that day he avoided looking at her face, not even remembering what it was like.
Bruce remembers that bloody night , it was too late to ask for help from the others who were still far from Gotham, He could only watch the explosion happen and rescue as many people as possible until a child stopped him asking for help, saying that there was a room deeper in the orphanage and a baby was trapped there.
Bruce had never felt so much panic and adrenaline rushing through his body, he didn't know how he got past the burning fire until he entered the room that was half hidden and found a fallen nursery and saw the small body of a baby covered in blood .
Even for Batman this vision is too strong, he remembered how he carried the small, almost lifeless body, no, he was sure she was dead until the nurse took her and said there was a sign of life.
He doesn't know if this was an illusion at the time, even the doctors said it was a miracle for a baby just a few months old to survive in this state.
Given his critical condition, the baby took a month to recover, but he had several sequelae that needed to be treated over time. Bruce, seeing this situation, decided to adopt the baby to be responsible for him and finance all his treatments and medical expenses.
The last time he saw the baby up close was when Alfred held the baby in his arms taking her to the mansion, after that, Bruce avoided her and left her in Alfred's care, he never held her, and didn't even look at her face and avoided entering her room until now, it was as if he was...
As if he was afraid .
Alfred arrived with the bottle and picked up the baby gently and adjusted his posture to be more comfortable, and Bruce saw this from afar until the baby finished drinking the milk and the butler cleaned his little mouth, putting him back in the nursery because he realized he was sleepy.
In her last moments struggling with her eyelids nearly closing, she saw Bruce leaving the room silently and wondered " Why didn't he look at me? " before falling into the dream world.
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It had been a week since the baby had last seen Bruce, she wondered, should she care?
Since arriving at this mansion, Bruce had avoided her like the plague, she wasn't stupid enough to not realize that, at first she was angry but soon the anger disappeared, she had no reason for it and she didn't even know him well.
She knew Batman from the comics but not Bruce Wayne, she always saw Batman being portrayed as the supreme hero, the vigilante who took justice into his own hands, not as a family man who has many children, the comics didn't go into much depth from the family side. And when it was mentioned it was clear that Bruce failed many times as a father.
She even wondered if it was another child destined to be a Robin, or a child he just pitied, it didn't matter, at least she had Alfred who during that week became much more attached to Baby.
Alfred doesn't know how this little smiling ball won his heart so quickly, he always found himself worried about her, he noticed that he finished his work routine faster or stopped doing some things to just take care of the little one, he had never done that before.
At first, Alfred was worried, it had been so long since he had taken care of such a small baby that he even wondered about hiring a more specialized person.
But surprisingly it wasn't like that, she was a very calm and quiet baby and even smiling, he wondered if that was a problem until he saw her toothless smile in his arms as she hugged a stuffed cat.
To imagine that he was won over by just a crooked smile, perhaps his paternal instinct had returned.
After measuring the ideal temperature of the milk, Alfred saw the little baby in the living room sleeping on the sofa, she was resting her little cheeks which were crushed on the teddy bear bigger than her and several other stuffed animals around.
Alfred secretly took a picture of this cute scene and planned to make a photo album, the baby being woken up gently stretched her little arms towards the butler asking to be picked up, Alfred picked her up and watched her trying to open her little eyes while yawning.
He even rubbed her eyes, making her more awake.
As he looked at the baby who was drinking the milk and trying to grab the bottle with her fat little hands, he thought it would be nice if Bruce had the same thoughts, it wasn't just the baby who noticed the Billionaire's strange behavior, he realized at first glance that Bruce was avoiding her, he asked why and Bruce replied ━ When I look at her, I remember her body full of blood ...
Alfred was relieved that his actions were not malicious, but he was extremely sad when he noticed Bruce's fear, he didn't know if it could be called fear but it was similar to what happened with Jason, the fear of facing his greatest failure.
Even though the baby is fine now, she has suffered several after-effects. Alfred is always heartbroken when he sees the small, newly healed wounds and hopes that they will disappear as she grows, making that traumatic attack just a delusion.
Now he just wants Bruce to get over this and the baby to be okay.
After that, Alfred helped the baby burp and planned to take her to her room since this room was not very suitable for babies, until he felt a tug on his sleeve and saw the baby pointing to a painting in the room ━ Oh little one, these are your older brothers ━ Alfred said as he introduced each one.
Dick or Richard was smiling in the background and next to him was Jason who turned his head back hiding his face, on the other side was Tim and Damian, both of them were not smiling but Damian had a sullen face and arms crossed, in the armchair was sitting Duke who was smiling and Cassandra sitting on the arm of the armchair, she was also not smiling.
The baby looked around and tilted her head in confusion at Alfred who understood the message ━ No little ladyship, they are not here at the moment but they will be in the future.
The baby can only look at the picture again and wonder , " Will they like me? "
Night soon came, Alfred prepared the baby for bed by putting on new pajamas that imitated the figure of a baby sheep, it even had a tail, Alfred often bought new cute animal-themed clothes for the baby and took pictures of each one of them, I think he gained a new hobby.
After putting the talcum powder on the baby's neck, he was about to put her to sleep but suddenly stopped and looked at the bedroom door, the baby soon realized, Batman was back.
Alfred apologized and put her in the nursery, telling her to wait a little and left the room. She looked at the ceiling for a while and could hear some noises of Alfred helping Bruce and realized that the situation must be serious.
She even thought about going there, but she knew she couldn't, her body was still developing its locomotive abilities, and there was still the fact that she was recovering, so she thought it would just be a burden.
When her eyelids were almost closing, Alfred appeared again, but this time he carried her and took her to another room where Bruce could be seen lying on a bed covered in bandages and small wounds, the baby was surprised by the sight as Alfred took her closer.
You could see that Bruce was trying to sleep until he felt Alfred's presence and opened his eyes to see him until he noticed the small ball of fur in the butler's hands ━ huh?
Alfred, noticing the man's doubtful face, said━ Mr. Bruce, I'm afraid I won't be able to take care of the little lady while I prepare dinner, so please.
Alfred placed the little sheep on the bed along with Bruce who just watched the butler leave the room satisfied, leaving the two individuals looking confused at the door, Bruce knew that this was just an excuse from Alfred to get to know the child better but he couldn't help but swear a little.
Then he noticed the little girl crawling to his side and making small sounds, he felt her gaze on his face, Bruce knew that this was cowardly, he thought that after solving the case he would be fine, and would be able to face the child without any guilt, but this proved the opposite, he knows that this is ridiculous but every time he thinks about her he remembers the many times he failed as a father, remembering how negligent he was with his children.
Bruce wanted to move on and leave his mistakes in the past, but he couldn't, he couldn't help but think that because of him most of his children are not in the mansion.
He began to press his hand on his abdomen where the bandaged wound was, which opened with the pressure, starting to release a blood stain. The baby quickly placed her hand on him, trying to push him away, which ended up drawing his attention.
Bruce finally saw the baby and not that nightmare, he saw a small baby who had just recovered, with chubby red cheeks and her small, soft hand contrasting with his, which was large and full of scars, the baby's little face looked at him worriedly.
The baby saw Bruce's shocked look fill with guilt and her hands began to tremble, she didn't understand why this was happening, but she decided to be benevolent, she climbed onto his chest and hugged his neck rubbing her cheek against his as she tried to find a better position to sleep on his shoulder.
Still perplexed, Bruce raised his hands and held her, realizing how fragile she was, for the first time a newborn baby was in his care, a being so defenseless that it couldn't even run away from its predators, that should be protected and cared for, a small child that he still ignored and avoided out of sheer ridiculous fear.
━ I'm sorry... ━ Bruce said with his cold and authoritative voice, the baby looked surprised and saw the melancholic eyes.
She just hugged him tighter, while he held her and patted her head awkwardly.
Bruce from then on promised that he would protect her with all his heart and soul, that he would not make mistakes this time, promising to give her a long and happy life.
After a while Alfred arrived in the room just seeing Bruce sleeping holding the baby also asleep on his chest, he just smiled seeing the scene and was relieved to know that Bruce wouldn't need the medicine to sleep tonight, he discreetly left the room with a plate of food in his hands along with the medicine and closed the door without making any noise.
Continued...
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