#in that this was the first time bruce called a child *his* child

[marcyvampire]

pt.2 SILLY LITTLE BAT

pairings ⸺ Yandere! Platonic! Batfamily x Anti-hero! Fem!reader.

sinopsis ⸺ Gotham was on the verge of burning, like a new Troy condemned to fire. On every corner, the echo of her name resounded like a shadow impossible to catch. The Waynes, furious and desperate, moved heaven and earth, using every resource at their disposal—every contact, every coin, every secret. On the news screens, her face appeared relentlessly, and in police stations, "wanted" posters hung with the image of the missing young woman. Bruce had retreated into darkness, unable to accept that he had let the most fragile part of his family slip away.

But she, the forgotten daughter, did not want to be found. She moved through Gotham’s shadows, not as prey, but as a hunter. The city, which had devoured her mother and shaped her, called to her, inviting her to plunge into its chaos. She was tired of being a ghost in a mansion of ice, tired of a life that had never claimed her.

Gotham would be hers. Not as a hero, not as a villain. She would become the city's saving god, something not even her father's vengeance could foresee. And every time she saw her face projected on the news, she felt a mix of rage and pain. They weren’t searching for *her*, but for who she had once been: a lost girl, a mistake they wanted to correct.

But she was no longer that girl.

And soon, Gotham would know her name.

warnings ⸺ Dark Themes, Dead, Religion, murdering,Disturbing Content, Unhealthy Obsession, Discrimination, Street Fights, Gaslight, Violence, Blood, LGBT Content, Child Abuse, Kidnapping, Implicit Sexual Content, Mental Illness, Addiction, Torture, Corruption, Isolation, Trauma, Phobias, Paranoia, Manipulation.

Chapter guide! Pt.1.

A/N — English is not my first language—Spanish is—Honestly, I didn’t expect this to succeed or fail; in fact, I wasn’t expecting anything at all. But suddenly, overnight, I found myself with almost 100 followers. For some, that might not be much, but for me, it’s a big surprise. I’m so grateful that you all enjoy my writing style, and I definitely plan to continue with more parts of this. Kisses! 💕.

I think im dying

But thats ok!

Alfred was a man trained since childhood to serve. Throughout his career, he learned to maintain composure, to be the calm pillar in the darkest moments. He had been that way when he saw the lifeless bodies of the Waynes, when he cleaned Bruce's blood after countless battles, and when he faced the terror of losing him forever. However, that day, something within him broke.

He saw her, his little Y/n, standing on stage in her gown and cap, trying to smile through unshed tears. The room was filled with applause and shouts of joy, but beside her... only he. No other familiar faces. No mother, no brother, no father. Alfred was alone to see her graduate.

When she finally emerged from the throng of students, he found her set apart, sitting on a bench, gazing at the horizon, alone, as she had been so many times in her life.

"Congratulations, miss," he said with a soft bow, as he always did, but this time his voice was lower, more laden with emotion than he would have wished.

Y/n turned slowly, and a barely perceptible, broken, and empty smile formed on her face, the shadow of what once was. Her eyes, reddened from restrained crying, sparkled like shattered glass under the afternoon light. That smile, which had once been a reflection of her youthful joy, was now tinged with melancholy, like a wilted flower under the weight of loneliness. Alfred felt his heart constrict at the sight of her pain. Each tear that rolled down her face, a face as delicate as velvet, seemed to carry years of silent suffering.

She was beautiful, even in her sadness, with a beauty that stemmed not only from her appearance but from the courage with which she had faced her life. A life marked by absence, by loss, by the feeling of emptiness that grew larger on days like this. Ten years had passed since that shy and hopeful girl arrived at Wayne Manor, and now, before him, he saw a woman who had grown not only in age but in strength. And yet, beneath that strength, Alfred could feel the latent pain, that longing for something that never came, for a family that had left her alone too soon.

Y/n hugged herself, as if her own arms could provide the comfort she so desperately craved, the warmth that had been denied to her. It was a hug of solitude, of silent resilience, a gesture she had repeated countless nights when shadows were her only company. Alfred, by her side, perceived the hidden fragility behind her bravery, the weight of a burden she had carried since childhood. The years had hardened her spirit, but they had not extinguished that deep need to be loved, to be seen. And now, on the brink of her graduation, that moment that should have been one of pride and celebration, she found herself alone, save for him.

"I thought... that at least Dad would be here today," she whispered, her voice breaking, without looking at Alfred. "That maybe, if I tried hard enough, if I got here... he could be proud. But..." her voice trailed off, and her shoulders trembled.

Alfred could not contain the sadness in his heart at seeing her so vulnerable, so broken. He had witnessed her growth, how she had learned to smile despite the shadows, how she had endured the absence of a mother who would never return. And now, at this crucial moment in her life, the weight of that absence and the abandonment of her family was too great to ignore.

"Thank you, Alfred... although, to be honest, it doesn't feel like something to celebrate."

"And why shouldn't it be?" Alfred asked, slowly approaching.

She sighed, shrugging her shoulders.

"Because no one came... Well, you did. You're always here, but..." she paused, biting her lip. "I hoped that, at least, Mom would be here. I don't know, sometimes I like to imagine that... that she could have been proud. That I'm studying, that I didn't give up. But... maybe all of this means nothing without her."

Alfred felt his heart heavy upon hearing her. He knew how much Y/n missed her mother, and although she never said it aloud, her pain was evident. He, who had witnessed so many moments of loss, felt a lump in his throat. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t know what to say immediately.

"Your mother... would be incredibly proud of you, miss. More than you could ever imagine," he finally replied, his voice trembling slightly as he extended his hand and gently stroked her shoulder. "But believe me when I say this: I would prefer that you not follow the same path as others in this house. Neither Bruce's... nor Barbara's... nor so many others."

She looked at him, a bit confused, as tears finally began to run down her cheeks.

"What do you mean, Alfred?"

"I mean, Miss Y/n, that I hope you live a... different life. I don't want you to end up in a dark cave, fighting evil night after night. I would prefer... that you fall in love, have children, a family that gives you the love you deserve, a life far from the suffering and violence that has marked this city." Alfred paused, struggling against his own emotions, but continued. "And your mother, if she were here, would wish the same. She would want you to be happy, not just strong."

Y/n listened to him in silence, feeling the warmth of his words, the weight of expectations she never asked to bear. She nodded slightly, drying her tears.

"It's hard to imagine that..." she murmured. "A normal life. With a family, love... All of that seems so... distant, impossible. I've been alone for so long."

"You have never been alone, miss. Perhaps you haven't noticed, but there have always been those who love you. Myself included," Alfred said with a small smile, even though his eyes were watery. "And know that the future... can surprise you. If anyone deserves to find happiness in this world, it is you."

There was a long silence between them, broken only by the echoes of voices in the distance, the applause of other families gathered. Y/n sighed deeply, letting Alfred's words sink in. Despite the pain, for the first time in a long time, she felt a spark of hope. A small light in the midst of darkness.

"Thank you, Alfred," she murmured, hugging him tightly. "I don’t know what I would do without you."

And in that embrace, Alfred allowed himself to cry, if only a little. He cried for the girl he had cared for, for the dreams she could still have, and for the love she deserved, beyond the shadows that surrounded the Wayne family.

The sound of the television filled the vast hall of Wayne Manor, cutting through the silence like a knife. The lights of the screen flickered, reflecting in the dark windows as if the very night sky had become restless.

"Breaking news: The disappearance of Y/n Wayne has shocked Gotham. Close sources indicate that a substantial reward has been offered for any information leading to her whereabouts. She is sought alive or dead."

Lois Lane's soft voice speaking about her little sister terrified Dick, as images of Y/n were displayed on the screen, a photo of her smiling face, followed by blurry footage captured by security cameras showing her last sighting before vanishing. The words “alive or dead” echoed over and over in the minds of those listening. They were an unrelenting echo, stripping her of humanity, turning her into a target.

Bruce stood in front of the screen, motionless, but his fury radiated from his body like the suffocating heat before a storm. His fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His jaw was tight, eyes fixed on the screen, a mix of anger and contained desperation.

Beside him, Damian sat on the couch, petting Titus while his emerald eyes shone bright, attentive, but his expression was hard. He had been trained not to show weakness, but at that moment, the anguish was impossible to hide. Frustration and fury reflected in his young features, hardened by a life of struggle. How dare you leave the manor when you were so weak? Hadn't it been made clear when he used his katana on you? You were a fool to trust that you would be better on the streets of Gotham than in your warm silk bed at the manor. He wanted to act, wanted to go out and find her, but Bruce had not allowed anyone to leave the manor until they knew what to do.

The sound of the television continued to fill the void of the manor, with its constant and cruel echo. The words "alive or dead" resonated like funeral bells, a sentence that none of them could bear, yet also could not remove from their minds. Each was lost in their own storm, a mix of anguish, guilt, and regret weighing on their shoulders like a burden too large to carry.

Jason leaned against the wall, his figure in shadows as he played with his weapon, a nervous gesture he performed without thinking. The manor's rules prohibited weapons in the living room, but what did rules matter now? The cold metal in his hands was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. He couldn't watch the television; he simply couldn’t. Seeing his sister's face on that screen tore his soul apart. His sister… strange to call her that now, after everything that had happened between them. How could he? He had been cruel to her, distant. Every time she sought his friendship, he pushed her away with harsh words, as if he were an impenetrable wall.

The pain enveloped him, sharper than any wound he had received in battle. If she showed up dead… would he weep for her death as she had wept for his? That time, when he came back to life, he learned that Y/n had shed tears for him, and still, he left her to her fate. What if now it was he who would have to mourn her? No, he couldn’t think of that. He didn’t want to think of that. She wasn’t dead. She couldn’t be.

Dick leaned against the staircase railing, arms crossed, staring at the ground. The news anchor's words repeated in his mind like an endless echo. "Alive or dead." How had it come to this? He, who always prided himself on being the older brother, the protector, had so many times ignored Y/n's silent pleas. She had grown up looking for a place among them, and he… had simply moved on, too focused on his own role as Nightwing, as a mentor, as everything he didn’t need to be for her. And now, she was lost in the darkness of Gotham, and all he felt was regret. An emptiness he didn’t know how to fill.

Tim was in a corner, his head in his hands, fear coursing through every part of his body. His mind, always analytical, always calculating, couldn't find a solution. The fear paralyzed him. He remembered the times he had dismissed Y/n, the times he had been too cold, too focused on his own missions to really see her. Now, that indifference was devouring him from within. What if she was alive, scared, trapped in some corner of Gotham, crying for help? What if they didn’t arrive in time?

Cassandra sat silently on the floor, legs crossed, observing everyone’s reactions without saying a word. Her emotions, though more contained, were equally deep. She remembered the times Y/n had tried to reach out, but she, unable to connect in the way she had wanted, had pushed her away without realizing. The regret felt like a knot in her throat, one she didn’t know how to untie.

Stephanie, sitting next to Barbara, had tears in her eyes that she wouldn’t let fall. She remembered every time she had joked with Y/n, not realizing the pain those words could cause her. How had she not seen the suffering in her eyes? Now, it was as if the air had become unbreathable, and guilt suffocated her more with each passing second.

Barbara, her gaze fixed on the screen, could not bear the thought of losing Y/n. Not after all she had already lost. The times she had ignored Y/n's insecurities, believing she would adapt, that she would find her place like everyone else had, now felt like daggers in her heart. What if those insecurities had led her to this moment? What if they had lost her forever? Damn you, you had every right to hate her if they found you. Because hope still remained, right?

Right?

Suddenly, Damian stood up, furious. He walked over to the television and turned it off with a slap, the remote trembling in his hand as he let it fall to the floor.

"What good does it do to listen to it over and over?" he roared, his voice filled with desperation. "We can't just sit here, waiting!"

"Damian…" Bruce looked at him with a mix of exhaustion and rage, but before he could say anything more, Damian interrupted.

"It’s our fault!" he shouted, eyes locked on his father. "If anything happens to her, if… if we find her dead in some Gotham alley, it will be our fault. I don't want to be part of that. I don't want to be the one who keeps waiting."

Bruce gritted his teeth, struggling to maintain his composure. He knew Damian was right, but they couldn’t just rush out without information. Still, his son’s words struck him deep.

"What if it's already too late?" Damian asked, his voice shaking, cracked with fear. "What if she’s alive… but scared, trapped somewhere? Alone, waiting for us to save her? Or worse, Bruce?"—his voice became barely a whisper, trembling with horror—"What if she’s assaulted and killed out there?"

Bruce turned his head, his face contorted with a pain he could not express. That possibility had crossed his mind fleetingly, but it had been too unbearable to hold onto. Now, hearing those words from his son tore him apart.

"Damian…" Bruce whispered, his voice cracking. His sturdy body, always a fortress, now seemed to sway under the weight of those words.

Jason, who had remained silent until then, felt something break inside him. The idea that Y/n could be suffering, lost and alone, drove him mad. He jumped up, his fury overflowing, and stepped toward Damian, ready to lash out at him.

"Shut up!" Jason shouted, about to lunge at the younger one. "Don’t talk about her like that! Speak about her like that again, and I swear I’ll kill you!"

Dick and Tim held him back, gripping his arms before the situation spiraled out of control, though they too felt the same rage, the same fear.

"You can’t hit him, Jason!" Dick growled, his voice tense. "This doesn’t fix anything!"

"Oh, it absolutely does!" Jason shouted, struggling to break free from Dick and Tim’s grip, his voice loaded with a fury that burned from deep within. "When I disfigure his face, he’ll learn not to mess with my sister!"

"Now she’s our sister?"

Cassandra’s voice resonated in the room, low but sharp as a knife. The phrase fell heavy in the atmosphere, as if it had uncovered a wound everyone preferred to ignore. Jason stopped abruptly, his fists still clenched, but Cass’s words pierced him like a dagger.

Cassandra, with her black hair framing her impassive face, slowly approached the center of the room, her posture serene yet filled with a deep sadness that most could not express in words. Her dark eyes were fixed on Jason, but her gaze also reached out to the others. Her pain was not explosive like Jason’s, nor contained like Bruce’s. It was a silent, devastating pain that had been part of her life for too long.

"Now she’s our sister?" Cassandra repeated, this time addressing everyone, her voice imbued with a dangerous calm. "Now, suddenly, everyone cares? Because she’s missing? Because she might tarnish the Wayne name?"

Silence fell over the room, thick, like a suffocating blanket covering each person’s guilt. No one dared to respond. They all knew Cassandra was right. They had all failed Y/n in some way, ignored her, pushed her away, or worse, made her feel like a stranger in the family she so desperately wanted to belong to.

"She was never seen," Cassandra continued, her gaze roaming over each face. "She was never considered part of this family. She was always in the shadows, always looking for how to fit in… and you didn’t let her."

Dick hung his head, feeling those words fall on him with the weight of a truth he had ignored for too long. Each of them, in their own selfishness, had taken for granted that Y/n would be fine, that she would find her place without help. But it was never like that. She was always the one left out, watching as everyone else had their roles clear while she silently struggled to be seen.

"You, Dick…" Cassandra looked at him sternly. "You always were the older brother everyone wanted, but you never treated her like a sister. How many times did you leave her out? How many times did you say she didn’t have what it took?"

The words were like daggers for Dick. Guilt suffocated him, recalling all the times he had been cold when he could have been the support she needed.

"Tim…" her voice was soft, but the words struck with precision. "You were so busy solving Gotham’s problems, but you never solved the ones in your own home. You didn’t even know if she was okay."

Tim looked away, swallowing hard. He knew she was right. He had been blind to what truly mattered. He didn’t see Y/n’s pain until it was too late.

"And Jason..." Cassandra’s eyes darkened even more. "You say she’s your sister, but you always kept her at a distance. You always thought she wouldn’t understand you, that she wasn’t like you. And now… you want to defend her? Now that she might be suffering somewhere, alone?"

Jason, who always projected an unbreakable façade, dropped his shoulders, feeling the weight of Cassandra’s accusations. His fury faded, replaced by a wave of regret he couldn’t control. Yes, he had been cruel. He knew that. He had avoided getting close to Y/n because he feared his own pain would taint her, but in the process, he had left her alone.

Finally, Cassandra stopped in front of Bruce, who was still rigid, staring at the ground. His own pain was an ocean he was about to drown in.

"Even you, Bruce..." Cassandra lowered her voice, almost a whisper. "You’re the worst. Of all of us, you were the one who should have protected her the most. You are her father. But you always treated her like a burden, like she wasn’t strong enough to stand by your side. Always in the shadow of your other children, always behind the bat."

Bruce didn’t respond. He couldn’t. Every word from Cassandra was a reminder of his failures, of how, in his attempt to save Gotham and his family, he had neglected the most important thing. He knew he had been distant with Y/n, fearful of losing her as he had lost so many others. But that fear, that distance, had only pushed her further away.

The air was heavy with guilt and sadness. They all looked at each other, confronted by a truth they couldn’t evade.

"And now," Cassandra continued, her voice breaking slightly for the first time, "do you think she doesn’t know? That she doesn’t feel everything we’ve done? Do you really believe she hasn’t realized how little she meant to us? Most likely…—Cassandra swallowed hard, her voice cracking with pain—most likely she hates us. She thinks we didn’t search for her because we wanted her back, but because we feel guilty."

Her words hung in the air, heavy as lead. No one could argue against it, for deep down, they all knew she was right.

Damian, who had remained silent, stared at the ground. Something inside him, that same fury with which he had faced Bruce moments before, broke in the face of the truth Cassandra had just pronounced. He leaned both hands on the edge of the sofa, leaning forward, breathing heavily.

"Shut up!" he whispered, almost weakly, but his voice trembled. The pride that always wrapped around him like armor had completely shattered. Cassandra watched him for a moment, but said nothing. "You’re part of this too! Even Barbara and the blonde did the same… I’m not… We’re not the only ones to blame."

Damian clenched his fists, the pain twisting him from within. He knew Cassandra was right. He knew he had failed as a brother, just like everyone else. But that pain drove him to desperation, wanting to fight against what had already been done.

No one knew what to do now. Fear was a thick shadow wrapping around them all. They knew that by going out to search for her, they might encounter the worst: her lifeless body abandoned in an alley, a broken body they had never protected.

But there was also the other possibility, the desperate hope that Y/n was still alive, trapped in some dark corner of Gotham, crying silently, terrified, waiting for the salvation that might never come.

"We’re going to find her," Barbara finally said, her voice low but firm, not looking at anyone in particular. "One way or another."

"Of course we’ll find her" Steph added from the other side of the room, her voice sounding like a promise. But her face showed the fear they all shared. "There’s no other option."

Bruce clenched his fists once more, the pain in his chest unbearable. The guilt, the fear… the rage. He hadn’t been able to protect Y/n. He had failed, once again, as he had so many other times. And this time, it wasn’t him who was in danger. It was her.

"Listen," Bruce said, his voice breaking, but filled with determination. "This won’t be like before. We won’t lose Y/n. Not again. We’re going to bring her back and repair the damage… and whoever is behind this will pay."

The silence in the room was dense, filled with unspoken emotions. They all shared the same pain, the same fear. Outside, the rain began to fall heavily, beating against the windows as if the sky itself was crying for her. But inside, there was only determination and the echo of the news anchor's last words.

"Wanted alive or dead."

They couldn’t allow the second option.

The air in the room was dense, filled with the stench of dampness, old blood, and cheap disinfectant. All you could see was a dim blue light hanging from the ceiling, swaying slowly, casting unsettling shadows on the dirty concrete walls. The place was a tomb before the tomb. And in the midst of all this, you, suspended on a rusty metal gurney, the straps tightened like snakes around your wrists and ankles, stifling every movement.

"You know... it's funny." The man's voice was soft, almost charming, but laced with a venomous sarcasm that chilled your blood. "Everyone is looking for you right now, little bat." A twisted smile crossed his face, revealing yellowed, unkempt teeth. "They've even put a bounty on you. Isn’t that adorable? They must be so desperate to clear their names. Aww!"

The guy, a middle-aged man with dirty, messy blonde hair, leaned closer, his eyes gleaming with a controlled madness. It wasn’t the kind of madness of the Joker; no. It was more terrifying: methodical, almost clinical. He looked like a doctor, but one who had long abandoned the oath to "do no harm." His clothes were wrinkled, stained with fluids you didn’t want to identify, and his hands, though thin, were strong, too strong.

You didn’t respond. You couldn't. Fear gripped your soul, and the silent tears streaming down your cheeks did nothing to help. Every time he moved around you, you felt his shadow devouring you. He hadn’t covered your mouth or eyes. He didn’t need to. You were so helpless, so… broken already.

"But don’t worry, dear." His tone shifted back to a macabre sweetness. "In three or four months, the news about you will fade. Enough time for you and I to… get to know each other." He let out a soft laugh, so bitter it made your skin crawl. "Or to hide your body. It all depends on how you respond to the treatment."

You swallowed hard, feeling each of his words fall on you like a sentence. Treatment. What did it really mean? What was he going to do to you? The sound of a syringe filling with some viscous liquid echoed in the room.

"Look what they’ve done to you." His voice was almost melancholic now, as if he were lamenting what he saw. "Gotham has failed you. Your so-called family has failed you. Even your mother, that weak woman… she has failed you."

Tears overflowed. You didn’t want to cry, didn’t want to show weakness in front of him, but the pain was too much. It was true, you had felt abandoned, invisible, even among your own. And now, in this dark corner of hell, the man in front of you was tearing that wound into the light.

"Don’t cry, little one." He said with a softness that made you shiver. "You don’t have to be like them. You won’t be like Batman."

He raised the syringe, glimmering under the blue light before leaning toward you, his lips brushing against your cheek as he injected something into your arm. A cold kiss, a kiss that burned. Your body tensed, the icy liquid spreading beneath your skin, causing you to tremble with fear and an inexplicable pain.

"I don’t want to be like Batman." You managed to whisper, your voice broken, your words soaked in desperation. "Please… don’t make me into him."

The man let out a low laugh, as if your words were the funniest joke he had heard in years.

"Oh, dear…" His voice slid into your ears like poison. "You won’t be like your father."

Your eyes widened. Your father? The man knew. He knew everything.

"Surprised?" he mocked, leaning even closer, his lips almost brushing against yours. "I’m not stupid. I’ve worked for Bruce, for the Joker, for Two-Face… Even for that fat rat, the Penguin. I know everything there is to know about your little dysfunctional family. And now, my dear, you will be what Gotham needs."

You were breathless. Panic grew inside you like a storm. How could he know everything? How had he gotten so close to them without being detected? Your mind spun, trying to find a way out, but the straps held you tightly, immobilizing you.

"Do you know why I’m so fed up with Gotham?" The man stood up again, pacing around you like a predator stalking its prey. "Because in over 25 years, Batman has been a damn farce. Every night, he dresses up like the hero, the savior… but the city remains rotten. Crime after crime, corpse after corpse, and what has he done? Nothing. Gotham is chaos, and he is just the symbol of its failure."

Every word pierced your mind, like needles slowly sinking into your brain.

"And what about me?" he continued. "Me, with my intellect, my ability to change everything, in a rat hole like this... disgusted me." He spat the word like it was poison. "But that’s over. Gotham will be a clean city. White as snow. No crimes. No heroes who don’t deliver."

His eyes shone with a mix of madness and fervor. You could see that he truly believed what he was saying, that somehow, in his sick mind, he was saving you from something worse.

"You know? I don’t have a tragic past like the idiots who roam the streets burdened with their misery, bombing, stealing, destroying whatever they touch to justify their own pain. No. I hate them all equally. Batman, because he is the biggest lie of all.

The city idolizes him, calls him a hero, but what has changed? Twenty-five years under his shadow, and Gotham remains a well of despair, corruption, and death. He’s not a savior; he’s a symbol of failure. Every criminal that falls, two more rise. And what does he do? He continues his ridiculous crusade, beating the same demons he himself helps create. And the city applauds him, blind, stupid.

But it’s not just Batman. I hate everyone. The heroes, the villains. They all are slaves to the same mask, to their own personal tragedy, believing they can be something more, that they can be redeemed or destroyed. But they are nothing but animals, driven by their pain. The Joker with his senseless chaos, Two-Face with his rotten moral coin. All of them… lost, and Gotham, this rotten city, clings to them as if they were the answer.

But I don’t have their pain. I’m not a victim of this city. There’s no tragedy in my past to excuse me. I wasn’t left to die in a dark alley; I didn’t see my parents fall before my eyes; I didn’t suffer under the whims of some monster. My hate is purer, clearer. I hate because I see the truth they don’t see.

This city needs to be torn out by the roots, purified. Every brick, every corner, every rotten soul that breathes here. And you… you will be my masterpiece. You won’t be another tool in their hands; you won’t be another pawn on the Bat’s chessboard. You will be what Gotham has always needed: a symbol of its end. A symbol of something stronger, more definitive. Because for a city to live, it must first die. And you, dear, will be my creation. You will be the dawn of a new era in Gotham. And they… all of them… won’t be able to stop us.

Desperation flooded you like an overflowing river, sweeping everything in its path. Every fiber of your being trembled at what awaited you.

"Please… don’t do this to me." You pleaded, your voice broken and choked with tears.

But the man only smiled. An empty, hollow smile.

"Oh, dear." He whispered, bringing his face closer to yours, smelling of sweat and desperation. "You have no choice. This has already begun. And, like everything in Gotham, only the strongest survive."

"And you..." —his lips brushed against your cheek again, leaving you cold— "You will be the strongest of them all."

You sobbed, each tear falling like broken glass on your skin. The silence broke when the man placed his rough, cold index finger on your fleshy lips, stopping your whimpers with a grotesque gentleness. His eyes shone with a mix of lust and madness, and his twisted smile widened before he leaned in toward you, biting your cheek with a sickly delicacy, as if he were a lover instead of your executioner.

His heavy, hot breath mingled with the stench of the place, invading your space, making every second by his side feel like an eternity. Then, from a dusty shelf, he pulled out a Batman doll, worn and dirty, but so similar to the one you once had as a child. The same one you left behind, the same one you didn’t want to carry because you didn’t believe you needed it anymore.

"I recommend you bite it," he said, with a twisted calm that froze your blood.

"This is going to hurt."

A/N — Well, what had to happen happened xD. Here is part two. It's very long, but I tend to write long stories because I hate losing details. It's my kryptonite. I'm very grateful for all the support you've given me, and make sure that more is coming! Kisses with love. ♡♡

Don't hesitate to ask me anything if you want.

take a bath!

Tag list! ◇ — @amber-content @toast-on-dandelioms @feral-childs-word @sweetconnoisseurgardener @victoria1676 @toasted-cat18 @nosyrobin @beeaskewwrites @yandere-enthusiast @telltaletoad @dhanyasri @vanessa-boo @m3vl0vesu @jellypotato66 @midnightgrimoire @cherryxxxxyoongi @imnotdumbimstupif @plsfckmedxddy @h0neysiba @mybones537 @erikasurfer @sheepintherain @pix-stuff

Inspiration: @acid-ixx with his Again & Again series, @gotham-daydreams' work, @i-cant-sing's work and @klemen-tine's work, be sure to check them out!

[curiousaromantic]

Asking for Batdad fic recs?

Listen- or read, i guess. It is 2am and I am craving an specific type of fic.

I really love the idea of Batman being a known dad. Like, at first? You are a goon, a bad guy, who fears Batman because he is the Dark Knight, the one who breaks bones and won’t have mercy beating your ass. Streets say criminals are better dead than surviving whatever pain the Bat can and will inflict.

But idk, i love reading fics where the criminals realize that they have fucked up when they hurt another member of the Batclan and oh no, Batman is their father isn’t he? We are so dead. We all saw what he did to the Joker after Robin #2…

(Extra bonus if the criminals slowly realize Red Hood is Robin #2 and THATS WHY RED HOOD FUCKS WITH THE BATCLAN (dude he is a bat himself, duh))

SO GIVE ME MORE FICS LIKE THAT PLEASE, recommend me some 😭 i want Gotham fully aware the Batclan is a family and Batman is their Father, lmao imagine if they worship them like religious figures lololol. I cannot imagine the gossip.

The fics that made realize I crave this type of trope are these:

whats in a name? [Ao3]

Bruce Wayne has many children. Bruce Wayne does not have many children who call him 'dad' regularly, and he understands. He was not the first father figure for most of his children, but he's happy to fill in for them now. However, the rarity with which he hears the word just makes it that much sweeter when he does.

Or: 6 times Bruce's kids call him dad, and 1 time he calls them his children.

homewrecker [Ao3]

The Gotham underworld finds out that deadbeat dad Batman owes poor, hapless Matches Malone decades worth of child support after having thrown him away to latch onto the city's most famous omega instead, and they sure have some opinions about that.

Bruce just has a headache.

Or just recommend me your fav batfam fics, i am not picky i swearrrrrr

also, sorry for my grammar idk, im mexican and english is not my first language <3

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 138

Danny squints up at the blurry form cradling him, brain trying to catch up with his situation. He can feel the pulse of his siblings’ cores nearby, gently pulsing contentedly despite the chaos of his last memories. His limbs feel too small and pudgy, too-small fingers gripping onto something as his vision started to clear. 

There was a man, holding him? Cradling his too-small form like he was an infant- was he an infant? He was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to be, he had been older but now he wasn’t. He squinted up at the stranger, green eyes meeting green. Huh. They kind of looked like he could be their dad or something. 

[navree]

i wanted what any father wants for his son ... hope. happiness. a future of never wanting or regretting something he could never have again ...

[littlefankingdom]

The Batman fandom infantilizing a near 30 years old white man taking in a child, saying he was a brother more than a father as if he wasn't a full grown adult taking in a child he could have birthed, but parentifying a brown young adult taking in his brother pre-teen for less than a year, saying he was a father more than a brother (only a year is barely enough but ok), or saying he was more a father to his other brothers than Bruce, when he met them when he was 18 and 21 is making me uncomfortable, ngl.

Like, Bruce is a "kid" when he became Dick's guardian when he canonically was over 25 (he started being Batman at 25), and a brother to him when he raised him for 10 years (and Dick probably has not many memories from before Bruce now), but Dick is a "father" to Damian he only had as his charge for less than a year, half of which they were fighting each others??? Make it make sense???

[mainalias]

thinking about compiling screenshots of golden/silver age batman exclusively calling dick his ward to combat the allegations that it was “initially a father-child relationship”

[autisticrosewilson]

So do you guys actually think that Jason's entire story, relationship to the others, and philosophy amounts to him being a rebellious teen who wants his dad's attention? Like are you 100% serious? I thought you were joking about that but too many of you are saying it with your whole chest.

And what the fuck is this "Bruce antagonizing Jason is fanon!" Shit I've been seeing? You guys are aware that a parent can love their kid and still be a shit parent right? I know you guys don't want to fathom the thought that maybe your blorbo might also occasionally have to face responsibility for consistently endangering children but let's not start being delusional now.

Bruce does love his kids, that doesn't mean that he hasn't hurt them. And I'd also argue that for the most part he feels in the right for it, and he's said multiple times that he believes it's for their own good, so you can't even argue that he's sorry about it. It's okay for you guys to admit that your PERSONAL INTERPRETATION of the character wouldn't do that but don't sit here and pretend that it's not a facet of the source.

[hijinxinprogress]

Coffee addict Never sleeps Tim drake ❌ 

Solving cases in his sleep off 87 energy drinks Tim Drake ✅

The coffee addict never sleeps perpetually tired Tim Drake thing is a widely accepted headcanon however that was elementary school tim but after he stayed up for a week straight subsisting entirely on coffee to decipher the bat weekly patrol schedule and how it aligns with rogue attacks/Arkham breakouts, he crashed then when he woke up it was fucking wednesday so he missed his chance to commemorate his discovery with pictures of Robin and he decided that shit would never happen again and made himself an ‘efficient’ sleep schedule so he could run around doing fuck shit, add to his robin shrine, and stay on honor roll bc he was even more pissed to see the gotham gazette had pictures of Robin with an on site interview credited to Vicki Vale (listen bowl cut tim had a one sided beef with vicki vale that included tim judging who gets better pics of the bats but she isn’t even aware that she’s competing with a whole ass child 😭 he’s sitting at the table with a mug of orange juice and looks at the newspaper snorts and goes ‘fucking amateur I could do better’) 

Regularly unsupervised tiny businessman in training Tim ‘Ten hours of uninterrupted sleep?? That’s so inefficient not to mention fucking stupid’ Drake is so pissed he missed getting shots of Robin dropkicking a rogue from 6 six stories up (for absolutely no reason dick just thinks it’s fun) that he just takes at least 3 hour naps every eight hours 😭 he refuses to spend almost half a day sleeping ‘for no reason when he could be doing something productive’ 

And he still does this as a bat but it’s just easier to tell if he didn’t take his nap bc he has less than zero impulse control and he’s just fucking done with everything like the gcpd is terrified bc tim’s saying shit like ‘This guys a fucking moron, I could’ve done this in half the time without killing anyone fucking loser doesn’t he know if you keep them alive you can prolong the torture?’ and ‘you’re like all hysterical and for what 🤨 ‘you blew up 83% of Bristol waah’ stfu and fucking rebuild it?? It’s only rich mfs that live there, it’s just a matter of them opening their fucking wallets’ once a new recruit made the mistake of asking if robin had adult supervision regularly and Tim responded with ‘well if you’re gonna snitch to cps like a little bitch then yeah’ and that cop did snitch so tim fucking doxxed him

Yj has just accepted that sometimes they will find tim in an air vent, on the roof, in one of their closets, or something just fucking knocked out then an alarm will go off and he’ll just get up like nothing happened but for the first couple of months they were probably concerned bc ‘I’ve never seen you sleep?? wtf are you on man’ and Tim’s confused bc ‘I slept next to you this morning wdym??’ and that’s how yj discovers tim sleeps with his eyes open

But one of the worst things about Tim’s ‘time efficient sleep schedule’ nonsense is that it fucking works he’s one of the most well rested and coherent bats even after back to back Arkham breakouts however the absolute worst thing about his sleep schedule is the likelihood of going into the cave and seeing tim staring in a daze but wide eyed yet somehow never blinking at the batcomputer with 57 tabs open on top of being unresponsive and thinking he has a fucking concussion or he’s been replaced but he’s just doing case work while muttering nonsense in his fucking sleep for some reason

[martyrbat]

batman and superman vs vampires and werewolves #2

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

Are you guys telling me that in one of the more modern comics explaining backstories Bruce just. Literally kidnaps Jason. Has him tied up in the batcave and gives him sandwiches. Is this real. Guys. Guys is this real. For realzies?

[phantobats]

I know that every batfam member would be able to survive the five nights at Freddy's Pizzeria, but I like to imagine they all go about it in different ways:

Bruce: figures out that there are souls haunting the animatronics and starts internally debating the ethics of (adopting) rehabilitating haunted and homicidal animatronics, on the basis that the souls are still children. Survives the five nights and plays by the rules, although his power level remains suspiciously high at the end of each night.

Dick: would have an absolutely joyful time spending five nights inside that cursed building as an adrenaline junkie. He's also weirdly gifted at excelling in obscure jobs such as a nightguard fighting for his life.

Jason: the second one of them moves, the building is going up in flames.

Tim: figures out how to jam the doors shut without them draining his power and uses that to his advantage to get work done, since he's already awake and doing nothing of importance.

Damian: convinces himself to guard by the rules without trying to sabotage the equipment and succeeds. Whenever an animatronic pops up at one of the windows, he starts insulting them. He also makes sure to insult them whenever he's done with his shift to assert dominance. Additionally, he nicknamed each of them after his brothers since they remind him of his everyday nuisances.

Barbara: being oracle has prepared her for this moment — quite literally child's play for her, so she multitasks between babysitting vigilantes and homicidal furry ghouls. (aren't they the same thing atp?)

Cass: she would manage to predict their movements and slip away to jumpscare them instead, running away before they manage to do any damage. Why stay inside the office when you can hassle the animatronics to hide in the office from you?

Steph: adrenaline junkie pt.2, although she would treat it like a 'let's play' and video call either Tim or Cass to share the experience with them — all they hear is her screaming, cursing and then laughing when they pop up.

Duke: unironically would also be hunting the animatronics from the shadows. He does it on the first night and they decide not to annoy him again for the rest of the week.

Edit: this is unironically being written by me, in the form of Nightwing becoming a night guard. will update with the link to the fic once i am done.

[qcomicsy]

I think a thing that people get wrong about Jason's anger is that it's not explosive.

It's cold. Jason isn't the type of person who storms off at every little thing or goes throwing tantrums and setting things on fire blindfully.

He's the type of person who's very practical. He keeps to himself, always. You rarely see issues where Jason's anger is reactive at the moment where the trigger happens to him. If you see his character up close, most of the time when he's triggered his reaction is calm. Even cold.

He gets triggered -> He keeps to himself → He makes a plan → And then he reacts.

Jason's anger being something explosive and out of character and out of place is actually how other people (characters) see it, because they have no idea on how it's playing out on Jason's head.

And that's a thing you can see operating since he was a child.

Where the only exceptions about this effect is either when someone he believes needs his help is involved.

See Nightwing Annual (2021)

But In Batman #411 when Jason learns the fact that Two-Face was responsible for his father's death and Bruce was keeping that from him as a secret his first reaction isn't to blow up on him.

Was to seethe.

Bruce goes up home after dealing with a Two-Face case (in my field we call that poetic irony) and asks Alfred where Jason is, Alfred's answer is that he's been sleeping all day (which is a conclusion that Alfred drew probably after going to check on Jason and seeing him in fact on his bed all day).

But when you see the next panel, even though he is on the bed, He's fully awake and both his expression and his body language shows that he's in fact angry.

This is the first time he appears again in the comics after learning that Two Face killed his dad.

Jason doesn't go towards Bruce immediately to demand an explanation or ask why he did this, or even to throw the truth on his face.

(Which could be debatable that that's something the Dick would usually do, but I'm not that literate on Dick's comics)

His reaction wasn't immediate.

His reaction was to go to his bed and stay quiet. Jason stayed calm and collected the whole trip until meeting Two Face again.

But the moment Jason as Robin has the opportunity to get his hands on Two-Face he does this

From Bruce, and maybe Alfred's perspective it could be interpreted as out of place or him storming off.

But it isn't. Jason was able to keep his cool (even though he shut off), until he was face a face to Two Face.

Does that mean he planned that to happen?

That's debatable, in any moment of this issue it is shown that Jason was actually planning to get to Two Face and do this. I my personal opinion, other and much more plausible explanation is: That he was in fact trying to keep to himself but couldn't hold back the moment that he saw his dad's murder.

You can see the same thing happening as Jason learns that Batman got another Robin in Red Hood: Lost Days.

Talia asks "You all right?" and Jason's first answer is "Sure Why Wouldn't I Be Alright?"

When he's alone he finally has the moment to break down.

(Actually both Red Hood: The lost days and Batman: Under the Red Hood are great case studies on how that usually play out on Jason's head.)

Jason is way more in control of his emotions than people ever give him credit for. The thing is that Jason holds it back until he either blows off or is capable to throw it back in someone's face.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Alfred: I have a confession to make. Upon the discovery of Master Damian, I took it upon myself to search for any unknown children of Master Bruce or anyone else we may have missed. I called in some favors with my contacts from my days of service. Two weeks ago, they responded with results.

Bruce pale: Are you about to say what I think you're about to say?

Alfred: Yes Master Bruce. A child has been found.

Dick: Omg, there are more of them.

Jason: Of course you have a bunch of kids you never bothered to raise, dead beat.

Tim: great I'll have even more demons to defend myself against

Damian: I shall prepare for a blood battle post haste.

Alfred: My son will be arriving tomarrow

Batfam: *Dead Silence*

Bruce: I beg your finest pardon?

Alfred: Yes, it seems I am the father of one Wes Weston. He and his group of friends will be in Gotham tomorrow for a college tour, and I will be meeting him for the first time. We have spoken many times over the phone.

Bruce: This is somehow worse

[ballinandcantgetup452]

I'm really fond of Billy Batson being like the 4th or 5th superhero to debut. Like, he pops up RIGHT after the trinity pops up. I think it's a prime chance to see essentially a newly reborn DCU through a child's eyes. Not in like the New Frontier "Wow! Look at all of these guys!" way (not to knock that, it's still great when moments like that do happen). But in the "everybody is green enough that the idea that this grown man is acting like an 11 year old is extremely suspect" kind of way.

Every member of the trinity has generally the same reaction.

Clark is much more of a "this is the only other person who will TALK to me... BUT he's also probably autistic". Where he's cordial and kind to Billy but also keeps his distance. He's a country bumpkin, and as an autistic person who's ALSO a country bumpkin, I can bet that he'd use the signature "be kind at a distance and let him work it out himself" strategy that I most often see used. Not to say that Clark is going to be a jerk about it. He just knows that he's not qualified to help and since he's an adult he can take care of himself.

Bruce ALSO assumes that Billy is autistic. Especially since the first time he even MEETS Captain Marvel is when he's interrupted on a stakeout. I always envisioned a Year 2 Bruce not being cruel to strangers, but also not being nice either. He just kind of ignores him until eventually he calls Captain Marvel over to whatever he's doing and explains what's going on. Bruce is the kindest to Billy, even if it's not as overt as Clark's.

On theme, Diana ALSO assumes that Billy is autistic after meeting him. Of course, she assumes that after somebody explains the concept of autism to her after explaining how something's just off with "that guy". She's not fond of the fact that some asshole is using the power of old gods, but lets it slide because she doesn't know how to confront that and can tell that the conversation and confrontation with him simply isn't worth it. She's a whole lot more proper and Billy finds her nice and all, but a little bit too grown up for his taste.

Billy isn't a founding member or anything, but once he is indicted, each member of the trinity keeps an eye out on him. Batman doesn't find out that Billy is a LITERAL child until he's a couple of years in with Dick. So he just keeps the lie going. It's easier to tell somebody "he's autistic" instead of "he's a 12 year old swapping bodies with an adult deity"

Any other potential headcanons that can come with Billy Batson becoming the 4th or 5th or just a really early superhero?

[littlefankingdom]

Dick who climbed on anything as a child. Even in public, especially in public. The moment Bruce looks away, he is climbing something to get as high as possible. The first times, it gave Bruce an heart attack. Now, it's just a headache.

People pass by and ask if they should call the firefighters, and Bruce tiredly tell them "He is fine, he can get down on his own.", like people with cats.

Imagine, you're walking out of some building, only to see a 10 years old standing on top of a lamppost, having a discussion with his dad guardian at the bottom.

"Dick, get down."

"Make me."

"Get down or you're grounded."

[caffeinatedvigilantewriter]

So Danny and Ellie are in a predicament.

Ellie has been freshly deaged to a 18 month year old. Sam, Tucker and Jazz are dead and gone.

Danny who is 23 ish is running from the GIW and Fentons ends up in Gotham when he gets caught

Last minute he shoves Ellie into an alley and leaves a note if to someone finds her

And he’s gone, taken.

Damian is now 23 and Batman. Bruce and Alfred have passed away (Bruce’s heart couldn’t take years of being Batman and Alfred got too old)

Everyone else… to put it lightly… aren’t on speaking terms.

Dick is in Bludhaven, Cass is in Kong, Jason is with his outlaws, Tim alternates between the Titans and WE (but doesn’t talk to Damian outside of the company). Duke and Steph are in collage.

Damian is alone.

Back to Ellie. Damian is on patrol and finds a crying baby in an alley at 1 am.

At first, he’s angry. What kind of parent leaves their child like that?

Then he finds the note

He takes Ellie in and raises her alone in the manor while being Batman and trying to find her dad.

Leslie- who’s now retired- helps in babysitting Ellie when he’s busy with being Batman or WE but hes always there to tuck her in every night.

Eventually, Duke- tired of the family’s pride and stubbornness ruining their family- comes home for Christmas break (around 6 months after Damian found Ellie)

He arrives while Batman is on patrol, hoping to surprise him and instead has his shit rocked by a 2 year old with Lazarus green eyes the moment he walked in the Batcave.

Damian arrives and explains everything.

Duke switches to online collage and resumes living in the manor.

Signal is back on the streets and Ellie gets an uncle.

Tim is the next person who catches on.

He realizes Batman’s patrol routes are shorter (Damian didn’t want to leave Ellie alone at night) and Batman sometimes abandons patrol in the middle to leave (Ellie was crying and Leslie couldn’t calm her down)

And so Tim pays him a visit and he sees Damian napping with a two year old on the couch and is like :0

So, instead of doing the Logical thing and waking him up he leaves and calls the rest of the family.

While Duke laughs in his face, the others plan to all appear next week at the manor and interrogate Damian as to why he adopted a kid.

Coincidentally, that night The GIW have cracked down as to where the ghost baby is and they break into Wayne Manor while Damian is on patrol.

He doesn’t get back in time.

Everyone else arrives a week later to find Damian in the batcave, looking like he was close to a passing out from exhaustion.

Duke returns from patrol and explains the situation and everyone bands together to help Damian find his daughter

They didn’t find her, but they find Danny.

After busting him out and telling Danny that Damian was the one who took care of Ellie for months

He eventually heals his wounds in the safety of Wayne Manor.

However, because Damian was the one to raise Ellie for months and the other not only ignored his calls but didn’t even stop by to check up on him he doesn’t trust the others as much.

So Damian ends up caring for him.

And over the course of the three months it took for them to locate Ellie, they begin to fall in love.

Cue the rescue mission the moment they find Ellie.

Damian and Danny eventually get together and GIW gets dismantled. Everything is fine and dandy…right?