#i wanna give current drake and baby drake a hug so badly

[ragingbookdragon]

Happy Birthday Batmom

OMG rereading my old works makes me wanna cringe. But this piece is kinda special because it’s one of the first Batmom fics I ever wrote. So, enjoy it! -Thorne <3

Her eyes opened, and she glanced blearily towards the window, still dark out, then at the clock on her nightstand. Four-thirty, it read, and she grunted, pulling the covers back up to her face and rolling over. She pressed up against his side as he was on his stomach, and subconsciously, his arm rose from where it was tucked under his pillow, and she crawled underneath it; her head resting up on his pillow. He shifted, his arm coming down to wrap around her middle, his head rising, burying his face in her neck. A leg intertwined between hers, and the right side of his body rested on her right, and the comfortable, familiar weight lulled her back to sleep.

           When she awoke again, the clock read nine-thirty-five, and she breathed deeply, moving her head to see his face; but he wasn’t beside her. She looked up on his pillow and saw a little note.

           Went to go make breakfast. Be back in a few minutes. I love you (Y/N).

           (Y/N) smiled as she plucked the note from the pillow, bringing to her nose, smelling it; it smelled like his cologne had been sprayed on it, something he did when he left notes for her to find. She inhaled again and rolled over, tucking the note in the bottom drawer of her nightstand before rolling out of the bed and walking over to his dresser and pulling out a t-shirt, slipping it on, then pulling out a pair of his joggers. (Y/N) pulled them on and moved to the bathroom, washing her face and pulling up her hair, so it was out of her face, then moved back to the bed. She laid down on her side and pulled the covers up to her chest, grabbing her phone and scrolling through her feed; multiple texts from her friends, and tweets from her followers reminded her of what today was. And here I am…another year older… (Y/N) grunted and sighed, and the door opened; her eyes flitted up and she watched her husband and children tiptoe, until they saw her, awake, then they walked normally. Bruce was in front, carrying a tray of mixed-breakfast foods, Dick and Jason held jugs-of what she could only assume was milk and orange juice-, Tim held a tray of coffee and creamers, and Damian held a bouquet. She smiled at them as she set her phone down. “My my…I should request this every day!” They laughed and Jason looked at her.

           “Sorry Ma…only on birthdays and Mother’s Day.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes and let out a ‘pfft’, causing them to laugh again. Bruce set down the tray beside her and leaned down, pressing his lips to hers, then pulling back and smiling at her.

           “Happy Birthday (Y/N).” She flashed him a heart-fluttering smile.

           “Thank you, Bruce.” He smiled and the other boys cleared their throats, causing her to glance at them; Dick and Jason set down the jugs and she eyed them. “What’s in those?” Dick spoke first.

           “Uh…that one is…” He turned to Jason. “What were they again?” Jason sighed and pointed to the first jug, then the second.

           “That’s the Mimosa jug, and that’s the ‘Just Peachy’ Peach Bellini.” (Y/N)’s eyebrows rose, and she looked at them.

           “Are you trying to get me hammered this morning?” Jason snorted and shook his head.

           “Nah…alcohol content is pretty low. You’ll just get a nice buzz.” She nodded, impressed.

           “I do like Mimosas and peaches.” Dick and Jason grinned, and Tim stepped up placing the tray on Bruce’s nightstand.

           “I got your jet fuel coffee mom.” She glanced at him and motioned for her cup.

           “Oh, pour me a cup baby. I could use some coffee right now.” He smiled and did so, passing her, her coffee cup; Jason pointed to it.

           “I’ve never actually read the words on it. What does it say?” (Y/N) snorted and held it up, reading it aloud.

           “And then I realized…this is my circus, and these are my monkeys.” Their mouths dropped open, expect for Dick, who laughed. Damian stepped up and handed her the bouquet he’d been holding.

           “These are for you Umi.” She sat her coffee cup down and took them, lightly touching a petal, and looked at him.

           “Pink carnations?” He nodded.

           “A symbol of a mother’s undying love.” Her eyes went wide, and she looked at the boys who just smiled widely at her; she felt tears start to form, and huffed a laugh, bringing her hand up to wipe them.

           “Oh god…don’t make me cry this early boys…I won’t be able to stop if I do.” They simply smiled and she looked at Damian. “Thank you, baby.” He smiled and took them from her, setting them in a vase on her vanity. She looked at the tray full of food. “This is more than enough for me and Bruce to eat.” (Y/N) glanced at the boys and tipped her head. “How about you boys join me for breakfast?” They nodded. “Just don’t flop on-” She spoke too late, and the next thing she knew, all four of her boys were jumping onto the bed; it ended badly, with limbs tangled in the dogpile in the middle of her bed.

           “OW JASON! THAT’S MY LEG!”

           “WELL YOU PUT YOUR ELBOW IN MY SIDE!”

           “DRAKE YOU LANDED ON MY BACK! GET OFF THIS INSTANT BEFORE I DISLOCATE YOUR THUMB FROM IT’S SOCKET!”

           “YOU TOUCH MY HAND AND I’LL KICK YOUR ASS DEMON-SPAWN!”

           The arguing between them continued until (Y/N) cleared her throat, and they went silent, staring at her apprehensively. She glowered at them.

           “If I have to split up fights today, I will jerk knots in all your tails, you hear?” Most of them nodded, save Damian, who quipped.

           “What does that mean?” Jason nudged him.

           “Means she’ll wear our asses out?” That only served to confuse him more.

           “…What?” Dick sighed.

           “She’ll bust our butts.” He put emphasis on ‘butts’, glaring at Jason who just rolled his eyes. Damian nodded and she looked at Bruce.

           “You gonna join in the merry-menagerie?” He snorted and nodded, picking up the tray and moving over to his side, sitting up against the headboard with her. The boys reached over to grab something when she smacked their hands lightly. “Don’t pick it with your fingers.” (Y/N) looked up at the door and saw Alfred walking in with extra plates and silverware; she smiled. “I was just about to ask one of them to go find you Alfred.” He smiled and passed the boys a plate, speaking eloquently.

           “Yes well, when the young masters did not return, I assumed they had joined you and the sir for breakfast.” He paused and moved beside her, leaning over and giving her a hug. “Happy Birthday Mrs. (Y/N).” (Y/N) smiled brightly and nodded.

           “Thank you, Alfred.” He nodded, and they watched him leave the room, then they turned back to the tray, and she sighed. “Oh…go nuts.” They grinned and dug into the tray, picking up croissants and jellies, waffles and bacon, anything they could. (Y/N) just smiled, and a cold glass appeared in her vision. She turned to see Bruce pouring one of the jugs; she leaned over, her cheek pressing into his bicep. He paused and grinned down at her; she matched his. “Which one is that?” He poured the cup full and held it up to her lips, and she took a sip, frozen peach slushy filling her mouth. (Y/N)’s eyes went wide, and she nodded, taking the glass from him. “That’s good.”

           “Thanks. I made it.” She glanced at Jason who currently had half a croissant shoved in his mouth. (Y/N) sighed.

           “Jason Peter…what have a told you about shoving things in your mouth like that?” He snorted and chewed, his cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk.

           “Not…to” She nodded.

           “It’s almost as if it goes in one ear, and out the other.” He flushed and Dick snorted, and she turned to him. “Richard John. Don’t you dare laugh.” His lips went into a thin line and he nodded, and Jason looked at him and mouthed ‘ha-ha’. “Jason Peter.” He lowered his head and mumbled,

           “…Sorry Ma.” She rolled her eyes and sipped her drink, picking up a piece of bacon and biting it. Damian lathered his waffle with butter, then syrup, and looked at her.

           “Umi…what are you going to do today?” (Y/N) glanced at him and shrugged her shoulders.

��          “Dunno…haven’t thought that far yet.” Tim snorted.

           “It’s your birthday mom. You haven’t thought about what you want to do?” (Y/N) looked at him.

           “The older I get, the more I want to stay home.” Bruce looked at her and sipped his coffee.

           “Why’s that?” She eyed him and bit into a biscuit.

           “Cause if I go out…I have to wear makeup and a bra…and I don’t feel like doing that.” The boys chuckled, and Tim spoke again.

           “So…you don’t want to go out today?” (Y/N) nodded her head.

           “Yep.”

           “Then what do you want to do for your birthday mom?” She looked at Dick and licked her thumb, reaching out and swiping some marmalade from the corner of his mouth, and wiped it on a napkin.

           “I want you boys to clean my house and spend time with me.” Immediately, the boys started groaning about, ‘not wanting to clean a giant freakin’ manor’, and she stuck her tongue to her teeth and let out an ear-splitting whistle. They winced and she spoke firmly. “I want you boys to help Alfred clean the house and spend time with me. Understood?” They reluctantly nodded, and she continued. “Besides, the faster you get the cleaning done, the more time we’ll have today.” They looked at each other before hopping off the bed and kicking it towards the door; she called out after them. “Don’t half-ass it either!” They raised their hands in acknowledgement and the door slammed behind them. (Y/N) sighed and reclined against the headboard, closing her eyes. She felt the bed shift beside her, and she watched Bruce get up and walk towards the door. “I didn’t mean you too Bruce.” She watched him stop at the door and his hand rested along the lock and twisted it; he turned to her and smirked.

           “Oh, I know you didn’t Mrs. Wayne.” (Y/N) matched his smirk and set the tray on the nightstand, moving to the center of the headboard. She watched him saunter towards her, a hand reaching up behind his back, and he pulled off his shirt. She hummed.

           “You should’ve done a cross-body pull-off, so I could’ve seen your abs and chest flex.” He huffed a laugh and crawled onto the bed, stopping just before her feet; she grinned. “What’re you waiting for?” His hands gripped her ankles and tugged, pulling her body off the headboard and down the bed. (Y/N) burst into surprised peals of laughter, and laid back, feeling him climb and rest on top of her. She stared up at him. “It’s my birthday…why are you on top?” He stopped, chuckling, and she continued. “You’re always topping.” She placed her hands on his shoulders, and wrapped her legs around his hips, interlocking her ankles, and shoved, signaling him to shift with her. He obliged, and rolled, his hands coming to rest on her hips. He grinned and raised an eyebrow.

           “How’s the weather up there?” (Y/N) rolled her eyes and gripped her shirt, tugging it off.

           “Hardy-har-har…very funny Mr. Wayne.” He squeezed her hips.

           “I try.” She grinned down at him.

           “I’ve noticed.” He smirked and raised up, a hand going behind her and undoing her bra; she slipped it off and dropped it to the floor, pulling back to look at him. He followed, and she placed a hand on his chest and shoved him down, smirking wickedly at him. “Mr. Wayne, you seem to be under the impression that you’re in charge now.” He raised an eyebrow and she continued. “It’s my turn dear.”

A Couple Hours Later:

           (Y/N) stepped down the stairs behind Bruce, one hand holding a cup, the other toweling her damp hair. They stepped into the kitchen and placed the dishes in the sink, then moved to the living room, collapsing onto the couch. She curled up on his chest, her head tucking under his chin. His hand rose and rubbed circles in her back, and he flipped on the TV, switching it over to the news. Vicki Vale greeted them.

           “And today is actually a very special day for Gotham City, as it’s Mrs. (Y/N) Wayne’s birthday! Today, she’s thirty-two years old. We asked you all to send in your favorite pictures and videos of her and we compiled a compilation! Enjoy!”

(Y/N) groaned and took the remote from Bruce, switching the channel; he snorted. “Don’t want to see the public’s favorite?” (Y/N) shifted and glared at him.

           “No. I don’t.” He chuckled again and kissed her forehead. He opened his mouth to speak when the boys came barreling into the living room.

           “Here you guys are! We didn’t know where you’d went!” She turned and glanced at Dick.

           “I mean, we’d have been somewhere in the manor?” He snorted, and they moved to the couch, flopping down where there was room. (Y/N) flipped over and rested her back against Bruce’s chest, and Damian crawled into her lap. Dick took Bruce’s left, Jason took his right, and Tim settled at (Y/N)’s feet.

           “What are we watching?” (Y/N) flipped through the channels, and the boys called out random titles.

           “The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen!”

           “Don’t listen to Dick. Let’s watch The Count of Monte Cristo!”

           “No one wants to watch that Jason! Let’s watch Lord of The Rings!”

           “And no one wants to watch that either Drake. Umi, let’s watch Dorian Gray.” They kept arguing, and (Y/N) shouted over them.

           “We’ll watch them all! Just hush!” They went silent and she nodded to Dick. “Go get the movies and we’ll start with yours.” Dick pumped his fists and went to the movie cabinet, and Alfred walked in.

           “Mrs. (Y/N), what would you like for dinner?” She turned her head to him.

           “Pizza.” Alfred sighed.

           “I shall allow it only because it’s your birthday.” (Y/N) grinned and the TV screen went dark, indicating the movie was starting.

           “Dickie, turn out the lights.” He nodded and flipped the switches before taking his seat.

           After a few hours of movies, pizza, and desert ‘We’re putting thirty-two candles in the birthday cake Dickhead stop complaining about it.’, they sat on the couch full and content, and Bruce turned to her. “Did you have a good birthday Mrs. Wayne?” She nodded and pulled the ice-cream spoon from her mouth.

           “The best.” Her boys started shaking their heads, and she looked at them. “What?”

           “We haven’t given you your gift yet.” She sighed and spoke softly.

           “Boys, I don-” Dick waved her off and motioned to Tim.

           “Do you have the disc?” He nodded and got up, popping it into the DVD player, and (Y/N) watched curiously as an image cleared, revealing her boys. Dick spoke on the screen.

           “Hey mom! Happy Birthday! Right now, you’re probably sitting on the couch with us, so we decided to make you something special.” Jason spoke after him.

           “We know you prefer gifts from the heart, rather than store bought, so we did just that.” He looked at Tim.

           “We each took the time and created a ten-minute portion in this video. You’ll see each of us on our own, then us all together at the end.” Damian nodded.

           “Each of us compiled something special for you.” They smiled and Dick spoke.

           “We hope you enjoy it mom.”

           The screen faded, and Dick appeared on his own, and he held up a note card.

           “I needed the notecard to remember the quote I wanted to tell about you mom.” He smiled and looked down. “But first I think I should tell you about my best memory of you.” He paused and sucked in a ragged breath and he looked at the camera. “I didn’t know what was going to happen to me after my birth parents died. I was…alone…and scared.” He stopped and breathed deeply. “The next thing I knew, I was in a giant manor, even more alone than I’d been left. But I wasn’t really alone.” He glanced at the camera. “You were there mom. You helped me heal…helped me realize that the world wasn’t all bad. You’ve always been there. Soon, I realized that…even though what happened to my birth parents was a tragedy…they left behind a blessing…” Dick brought a hand to his eyes and held his palms there for a few seconds before wiping them. “My mom will always be my mom in my heart. But you? You are my mom. And I love you for it.” He wiped his eyes again and looked down at the card. “I found a quote I wanted to read you.” He cleared his throat. “And she loved a little boy very, very much—even more than she loved herself.” Dick looked up at the camera and smiled brightly. “Thank you for loving me mom…And Happy Birthday.” The screen went black, and then bright again, and Jason was there; he waved.

           “Hey Ma.” He paused and rubbed the back of his neck. “So, I’m not overly fond of performing in front of other people…as you know…but I figured that if we were making shi-stuff from the heart…I guess I can do this for you.” Jason paused and rose, picking up an acoustic guitar, and strumming a few strings. He looked at the camera, a faint red on his cheeks, and he glared slightly. “You’d better be lucky I love you Ma.” He began to strum the strings, and (Y/N) recognized it as the acoustic cover of ‘Simple Man’ by Shinedown. His voice came out, low and soft. “Mama told me when I was young. Come sit beside me, my only son. And listen closely to what I say. And if you do this it'll help you some sunny day…" He kept the song short, transitioning to the last set of verses. “Boy, don't you worry, you'll find yourself…Follow your heart and nothing else. And you can do this, oh baby, if you try. All that I want for you, my son, is to be satisfied…And be a simple kind of man. Oh, be something you love and understand. Baby be a simple kind of man. Oh, won't you do this for me, son, if you can…” The strumming went slower and softer, and he sang the last few verses. “Baby be a simple, really simple man. Oh, be something you love and understand. Baby, be a simple, kind of simple man.” He strummed the guitar one last time and looked at the camera. “The first time I heard that song, you were humming it to me as you took care of me one night that I had gotten sick.” Jason paused and looked down. “I’ve always tried to follow it Ma…‘cause I knew you wanted me to…And I know…I’ve made mistakes.” He stopped and wiped an eye, continuing. “But you’ve always granted me forgiveness…always said it was okay. And that’s why this quote is you.” He paused and glanced at the camera. “The heart of a mother is a deep abyss at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness.” He grinned at the camera. “Thanks Ma…I love you…And Happy Birthday.” The screen went black once more, and Tim appeared next.

           “I look a mess mom…I haven’t had my third coffee yet…so…sorry.” He laughed and continued. “I’m not Jason, so I don’t have a song for you. But I can be like Dick and give my best memory of you.” He cleared his throat. “The first time you ever called me your son was when we were at a charity gala, a few months after my dad died. And I remember thinking that I didn’t belong and that I wasn’t supposed to be there. But you stuck with me the entire night, making me feel like I did belong, even if I didn’t really think it. And I remember someone walking up and starting to interview you, and I started to walk away so I could give you privacy, and the interviewer asked something along the lines of, ‘So what’s it like to have a stranger in your home?’. And it hurt to hear that…but…” He paused and snorted. “You tore into that guy like it was no one’s business. And I mean, you ate him alive.” Tim looked at the camera. “And you marched over to me and grabbed my hand, pulling me back over and you just pointed at me and went, ‘This boy may not have come from my womb, but I love him as if he did. And if anyone calls my son a stranger again. I’ll lay their ass flat.’. Then you looked at him and went, ‘You put that in the paper you dime-a-dozen basic bitch.’.” Tim had to stop he was laughing so hard, and when he calmed down, he spoke. “It was without a doubt, the funniest thing I’d ever seen, and you stalked off with me in tow, then turned around and went, ‘Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne? You are my son. And anyone who says otherwise is a fucknut and shouldn’t be listened to. You hear me?’. And I just nodded” He paused and looked at the camera. “But that’s the day that made it all real. That it wasn’t a joke…that I wasn’t alone anymore. I had you, and Bruce, and Dick, and Alfred. But I had you. And my mother is the best woman alive.” He held up a card and read his quote. “A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials heavy and sudden fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends desert us; when trouble thickens around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return to our hearts.” He smiled. “I love you mom…Happy Birthday.” The screen faded, and Damian appeared, sitting next to an easel.

           “Umi.” He paused and picked up a set of charcoal sticks. “I’m going to draw you a picture.” That was all he said, and he got to work, occasionally glancing at the camera; his eyes moved to the easel. “Grayson said I should talk about my best memory of you. If I had to choose…it would be when you stood up to Talia and fought against her…ultimately winning.” He blew on the canvas and continued. “She stood before you and demanded me. But you refused and picked up a sword saying, ‘You won’t take my son from me Talia.’. Of course, she went into the whole spiel of, ‘He is my son. I created him.’.” Damian stopped and looked at the camera. “Then you charged at her and she met you blow for blow. But you started winning. And with every strike you spoke righteously. ‘A mother protects her children. She doesn’t use them or hurts them. A mother loves her children. She would crawl across the earth on her very stomach if it meant they would survive. A mother would stand before the jury and allow them to condemn her to die, if she knew they would live.’. Then you stopped and dealt the last strike and stood above her victoriously. ‘A mother is the first and last line of defense for her family Talia. I protect my family, come hell or high-water, and I will stand before them time and again, taking each blow.’ You pointed your sword at her. ‘Until you understand that…you will never be a mother.’. Then you took me and left.” Damian looked at the canvas and blew on it, before flipping it around, revealing a rough sketch of (Y/N). “Talia gave me life…but you have taught me to live…and have been a mother to me since I came here.” He set the canvas down and smiled. “Happy is the son whose faith in his mother remains unchallenged.” He stood. “Happy Birthday. I love you Umi.” The screen faded black, and (Y/N) thought it was over, until it lit up again and Bruce was there. He held out a few sheets of paper, then set them down.

           “I was going to go off a script…but you’d rather have me wing it.” He chuckled, then his face went serious. “I’ve been alone for a long time (Y/N). After mom and dad…I closed everyone off. I kept them out…even Alfred at times. And I went about my life, hell-bent on a promise I made at eight years old.” Bruce paused. “I came back and took on my mantle…and night after night…I fought. And I started to feel like I was missing something. Then, I got this new assistant, and everything changed.” He smiled at the camera. “Eventually, she learned my secret…and I waited for her to leave. But…she didn’t…instead…she took on a mantle and fought with me.” He spoke solemnly. “She became my wife…and later…the mother of my children. She made me see that though Batman is a part of me…it isn’t who I am. I am Bruce Wayne first, husband to (Y/N) Wayne second, father to Richard John Grayson-Wayne, Jason Peter Todd-Wayne, Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, and Damian Wayne third, son to Alfred Pennyworth fourth, and Batman fifth.” He cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t be the man that I am today if it wasn’t for you (Y/N). You’ve made a man remember that the world isn’t totally evil…and that it’s okay to break sometimes.” He smiled at the camera. “I love you (Y/N) Wayne.” Black colored the screen, and the boys showed up, Bruce sitting in the middle.

           “Mom, we hope you enjoyed the video. And we hope you know how lucky we are to have you.”

           “Ma, you mean the world to us. You bend over backwards for us.”

           “Mom, you’ve saved us more times than we can count…figuratively and literally.”

           “Umi…you are our defense…first…and last.”

           “(Y/N). We wouldn’t be the men we are today if we didn’t have you.”

           They all smiled at the camera and waved, ringing out a chorus of ‘I love you Mom/Ma/Mom/Umi! Happy Birthday!’, and ‘I love you (Y/N), Happy Birthday.’. The screen faded, indicating the end of the video, and they all turned to their mother and wife, to see her reaction. (Y/N) had her face in her hands, sobbing heart-wrenchingly, and they became concerned. “Mom? You okay?” She nodded her head, still sobbing and she reached out her hands. Slowly, the boys moved, and they tucked themselves into her arms; she squeezed as tightly as she could and held them. After a few minutes, she calmed down enough that she wasn’t sobbing loudly, and she spoke quietly.

           “I love you boys.” Choruses of ‘I love you too’, came through and she pulled away, wiping her face; though the tears kept coming. “I am so proud to be your mom. I love each and everyone of you so dearly.” She paused and sucked in a breath. “This is the greatest gift I could have ever received…Thank you.” The fell into her arms again, and she felt Bruce wrap his arms around her middle, and he leaned his head next to hers. He whispered softly.

           “I love you (Y/N) Wayne.” (Y/N) felt a wave of fresh tears come around and she nodded, leaning into him.

           “I love you too Bruce Wayne.” She felt his lips touch her temple and he spoke again.

           “Happy Birthday (Y/N).”