#batdad reader

[bigfan-fanfic]

Particularly Pretty Pixels (Batdad Headcanons)

Requested by anon for “ I think you're gonna like this. How about bruce walking past a certain room and he hears batdad. Because of certain things he hears batdad say,bruce thinks he is cheating on him. He loudly opens the door....only to find batdad playing Dragon Age and gushing over how hot cullen is 😍😆🤣 ”

Lol you’re right! I do like this! And as I write this, it is still Dragon Age Day, so yay!

Bruce is well aware of your... preferences.

By which, of course, I refer to your gaming habit. The whole family knows that you are an avid gamer

And, unfortunately, they know of your weakness for video game men.

Look, you understand that all they are is a series of pixels arranged by software.

But these particular pixels are patterned in a particularly pretty way.

Your latest crush is Commander Cullen from Dragon Age: Inquisition. He’s extraordinarily handsome. And that voice. And his personality. Yum.

The last time someone caught you drooling over him, it was Dick.

“Hey, Pops, I need help with this - whoa.”

It’s a scene where Cullen smirks at the Inquisitor, and both you and Dick gave a little sigh. Then looked at each other. 

“He’s hot.” Dick muttered.

You nod. “Yup. He’s gonna be my husband.”

Dick understands video games, so he nods. “Awesome. Let me know how it goes.”

But other times have not been so forgiving.

Damian once walked in during the scene where Cullen gives his coin to the Inquisitor, and saw you sighing happily at the romantic scene. It’s the fifth time you came back to romance Cullen, and it gets you every time.

“What are you doing, Papa?”

“Locking in my true love.” you say softly.

Damian looks at the screen, then at you in betrayal. “What about Father?”

You have to pause and explain to Damian what you mean. He doesn’t quite get it until you introduce him to fanfiction and fanart. You feel a little bad about unleashing Damian on the fandom, but it’s worth it when you catch him romancing Cullen on his own playthrough “for research; stop reading into it, Papa!” 

Jason and Tim band together when they see you romancing Cullen again. It’s rare they work with each other for a prank, but all the more frightening.

Next time they walk past Bruce, they make sure to talk about some guy named Rutherford that you’ve been getting close to.

Bruce trusts you, he does, but something makes him jealous. Maybe it’s the way he asks Damian about it casually, and the boy nods absently. “Yes, well, he is quite handsome, Father. I’m not surprised he would return for another romance.” 

And then he confronts Dick, a little less casually, and Dick - not knowing Bruce doesn’t remember you gushing over Cullen to him - acts shocked. “What? He’s stealing my boyfriend from me? How dare he!”

And now Bruce is wildly certain that you’re having an affair with a younger man named Rutherford that all his children know for some reason.

So he goes to confront you, to have you respond to these suspicions.

And what should happen but you playing Dragon Age in the bedroom with the door closed.

And you just triggered a cutscene where your Inquisitor is making out with Cullen, and the sound is way up, so the noise of sucking face is clearly audible through your door

Bruce’s head is thundering with the thought “In OUR bed????” And wondering what he could have done to make you hurt him like this.

He kicks in the door prepared to kick the cuckolder’s butt, only to see you cheering as the screen shows two people kissing.

“Wh-wha...?”

“Bruce! Look! I got him again! We kissed!”

“Cullen... Cullen Rutherford... from Dragon Age.”

“Yup! He’s so hot, Bruce! Not as much as you, of course, but still....” You sigh dreamily, only to yelp when Bruce kisses you deeply.

“I’m gonna kill Tim and Jason.” he said softly. You raise an eyebrow and kiss him.

“You sure? I think we can do something better...”

He winks at you and does a perfect imitation of Cullen’s voice. “Maker’s breath.”

You grin. “You’re the best husband ever. The only one I’m really interested in romancing.”

He smiles back. That’s definitely a complement worth every bit of this prank.

[nashilayladragneel]

I have a thing for traumatized men who turn out to be okayish father figures.

[spocks-husband]

Consider: One of the Batfam starts dating a civilian who happens to be a crime/mystery/horror/detective writer, eventually they know the vigilante identities of the family after things get serious, and yeah it's a lot to get used to but overall everything is pretty great!

Until at one point, y/n gives their partner a scene from a book they're working on for some feedback, and their partner is like "hmm. Yeah, it's pretty good, but your description of being stabbed isn't super accurate."

And then they go into this whole explanation of how it feels to be stabbed, which eventually is overhead by other Bats who are VERY offended because OBVIOUSLY all of that is wrong, and it starts this giant family debate over which adjectives best describe a stab to the kidney because all of them have experienced it at some point, Alfred comes in and adds his input because of course he's also been stabbed before, Damian and Jason have to be physically restrained from performing a demonstration-- and the entire time y/n is just sitting there like 😦

[kenwio]

Joker's kid! reader x batfamily

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Author's note: I've been reading a lot of batfam x reader, and today I got this idea in my mind. I don't know if someone wrote something similar, and I apologize if so.

Warnings: English is not my first language, and it may contain grammar mistakes.

All in all, it's just a quick sketch I wanted to share with the world. I hope you will enjoy reading it. And I may write something more on this.

• -------------------- ♤ ♡ ◇♧ --------------------•

Joker's kid! reader, who hates his father, because he never cared, he sees you as his pawn, way to lure Batman in

Joker's kid! reader, who, without any connection to the real world, understands, that the way Jokers acts is just not right

Joker's kid! reader, who barely has any sanity and has so many mental issues, that they don't even know how to untangle their emotions or what they feel

Joker's kid! reader, who hopes that one day, Batman would put their dad into the prison for good. But this hope is crushed every time more with every Joker's escape from prison

Joker's kid! reader, who hoped that his mother would take them with her, but when she never did, was too busy with building her new life. After that, they started to think that they were too much of the burden

Joker's kid! reader, who has to hide in the corners of the crime alley, because they have nowhere to go until Joker breaks out and find them again. They are so scared, hungry, cold, but they know there is practically nothing they can do

Joker's kid! reader, who is afraid of Batman. They themselves saw how many times their father. Yet, they can't help but feel something light bubbling in their chest as they look at him.

Joker's kid! reader, Who is weirded out by how Robin, Red Robin, Red Hood and Nightwing act around batman, but they found themselves fascinated by it

Joker's kid! reader, who saw and decided to follow Batman out of desperation. They just wanted to this all end, and at least, Batman could do that, they saw her

Joker's kid! reader, who was scared by how long Batman was silent, how he stared at them. How he crouched down to their level. It felt like he was looking in their soul. Of course he knows who their are, he just never expected them to come to him. They may never know, but he was so relived to see that the this kid was not following their father.

Joker's kid! reader, who was shocked by how gentle Batman's voice sounded, how gently he put his hand on the shoulder, how he led them to his batmobile, how he gently buckled up their belt, how he put blanket on them (why would Batman have a spare blanket in the batmobile?).

Joker's kid! reader, who had to spend so much time in the medbay, not only because they were malnourished, but because they had so much health issues.

Joker's kid! reader, who is visited by Batman on many occasions, and were shocked by his care. Why he was so caring? Gentle? Was it a part of some elaborate scheme?

Joker's kid! reader, who had to learn identity of Batman and batfamily, because they would be moved to the manor. At one hand, it was a good change, but they were so scared.

Joker's kid! reader, who recives unpleasant glances from all the family: Dick looks at them like they are sick animal, Jason looks like their are a ticking bomb, Tim like they are remnants of his nightmares, Damian like they are disgusting criminal.

Joker's kid! reader, who think they all will hate them more because they keep breaking things (they just don't know how to use them). Alfred looks at them with such an intense gaze, that they couldn't help but shiver.

Joker's kid! reader, who looks at interactions between Bruce and wounders if this is how familiar is? Is it supposed to be warm like this? Is that care? Is that what happiness is?

Joker's kid! reader, who thinks that they are so out of place. They do not deserve this, not after what their father has done.

Joker's kid! reader, who just want to have be a part of family too

• -------------------- ♤ ♡ ◇♧ --------------------•

Thank you so much for reading! Please, feel free to share your opinions. I hope you have a good day!

[clumsydolly]

Bruce Wayne x female!reader who is firty in public but shy in private?

Soft Behind the Smile

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Flirty-in-Public, Shy-in-Private Female Reader

Setting: A high-profile Gotham charity gala and Wayne Manor afterward

Tone: Romantic, Flirty, Soft, a little teasing

Gotham glittered beneath the evening sky, the moonlight catching the tips of buildings and rooftops like a silver crown. Inside the Wayne Foundation's Grand Ballroom, the air shimmered with the clink of champagne glasses, string quartets, and the low hum of money being well-spent in the name of philanthropy.

You were the sun of the room, every eye subtly drawn to you as you moved through the crowd like you were born to shine. Crimson silk hugged your frame, your heels clicked like a metronome of confidence, and your laugh—carefully honed—rose at just the right pitch to charm.

Bruce Wayne noticed.

Of course he noticed.

He always did.

“Mr. Wayne,” you purred as you stepped up beside him, your red nails briefly dragging across the black silk of his lapel, “did you come to the gala to save the city or break hearts?”

He turned, amusement flickering in those unreadable blue eyes. “I didn’t realize I had a reputation for either.”

“Oh, please,” you smiled, cocking your head. “You walk into a room and women forget how to breathe.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And you?”

“I pretend I’m immune,” you said coyly, swirling your drink. “But between you and me, the dress is only half of my armor.”

Bruce let out a quiet chuckle. “Dangerous woman.”

You leaned in, the scent of your perfume ghosting across his senses. “Only if you’re afraid of a good time.”

It was a dance. You knew your steps well. In front of the crowd, you were bold. Flirty. Confident. You teased Bruce because you liked the way his mouth twitched with held-back smiles. Because you loved the weight of his gaze when you walked away.

But the moment his attention lingered too long… your stomach twisted.

Because behind the bravado was a girl who didn’t know how to be looked at like that. Not by him.

Not by someone who could see through it all.

The gala ended in a blur of laughter and final bows. Bruce offered you a ride back to your apartment, but you politely declined.

Too dangerous.

You knew if you stepped into his world for real, it wouldn’t be a game anymore.

But the next day, a bouquet of dark red roses appeared at your office desk with no card. Just a Wayne Foundation envelope with an invitation to a small dinner.

Private.

You almost declined.

But you didn’t.

Wayne Manor was nothing like the bustling events downtown. Here, silence reigned. Shadows curved along oak panels and soft rugs. The fireplace burned low, casting an amber glow.

He met you at the door. No staff. No Alfred.

Just him.

In dark slacks and a navy sweater, he looked softer than he ever did in public. More dangerous in a quiet, intimate way. The kind of danger that came from someone who knew your tells.

He took your coat and offered you a glass of wine.

You were overdressed, you realized, your black satin gown clinging too tightly to your skin as you stepped into the softly lit dining room.

“You look nervous,” he said gently.

“I don’t get nervous,” you said too quickly.

He smiled. “You bite your lip when you’re not sure what to say.”

You stopped instantly, pulling your lip free.

Damn him.

Dinner passed in waves of conversation. He asked about your work, your favorite books, even your childhood memories.

It wasn’t a seduction. It was… intention.

And that scared you more.

After dessert, he invited you to his private study. The fire burned brighter there. Shelves of books lined the walls. A piano sat untouched in the corner.

He poured you both brandy. You sipped quietly.

And then he sat beside you. Not across. Not separate.

Beside you.

His arm brushed yours.

“Why do you do that?” he asked.

You blinked. “Do what?”

“Hide.”

You swallowed. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He looked at you. Not through you. At you.

“In public, you’re magnetic. You flirt. You tease. But here… now… you won’t even meet my eyes.”

You looked down. “It’s easier to be bold when no one can touch me. When no one can hurt me.”

He was quiet for a moment.

“Who hurt you?” he asked.

The question was too gentle.

“Everyone,” you whispered. “But that’s not your problem.”

He set his glass down. “I didn’t invite you here to play games.”

“I know.”

“Then stop playing.”

Your hands trembled.

He took them.

Large, warm hands that covered yours and stilled the storm.

“I like you,” he said simply. “Not the version everyone sees. You.”

You blinked back tears. “What if I’m not enough?”

His thumb brushed your knuckles. “Then I’ll stay until you believe you are.”

And you did something you never let yourself do in public.

You leaned in.

Slowly. Softly.

And kissed him.

Not like a dare. Not like a game.

But like a wish.

He kissed you back with quiet reverence, his hand cradling your jaw like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

The night unraveled from there in whispered touches and murmured laughter.

You stayed.

You stayed because for once, you weren’t pretending.

And neither was he.

The morning came soft.

You stood by the tall windows of the manor, wrapped in one of his shirts. The silk curtains fluttered as dawn crept in. You hugged yourself, uncertain.

“Planning to run?” his voice came gently from behind.

You turned. “I don’t know how to do this.”

He stepped close, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“You already are.”

You looked up at him. “I’m shy, Bruce. I’ll flirt with you in front of a hundred people, but the second you get close, I forget how to breathe.”

“Good,” he whispered, kissing your temple. “Then I’ll make you forget often.”

You hid your face in his chest.

He just held you.

No expectations.

Just warmth.

You finally let yourself breathe.

You started to believe you were worth being loved back.

Thank you all so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed! As usual Reblogs are encouraged and appreciated! 💕

[batman-soup]

what if in his early robin days when Alfred insisted he come up to the manor Tim got lost exploring and wandered into the library. what if while Tim was just browsing he turns the corner and runs into bruce towering over him. what if bruce absolutely lost it at Tim and told him to get out and stay OUT of the library (the library was Jason’s favorite room). what if even after jason comes back tim avoids the library like a plague. what if jason found out bruce basically banned Tim from reading(drama queen) and gets PISSED. What if he tore into bruce about it who didn’t even remember the whole encounter until now. what if what if what if

[luxthestrange]

TWST Incorrect quotes#732 LILIA!?!-

Yuu*Feeding baby Sebek, while Lilia is cleaning baby Silver's diaper with an infatuated gaze*Your dad is amazing~

Mal(7)*Looking up from his gargoyle book*I thought you hated him...

Yuu*Eyes widen and looks at him in worry*What?-Oh sweetie no!, Why would you say that?

Mal(7): When you came home from work, I heard you and Lilia in the bedroom...

You came home last week, Lilia came to greet you once he put the boys to sleep...picked up, threw you into the bedroom and then dived in, closing the door

Mal(7):...And you wouldn't stop yelling at him

Yuu*Horrified face dawned on you as you blush at the memory*...

Lilia*Also horrified and continues to clean silver*...

Yuu*Coughs into fist and pats the young dragon's head* A-ah no sweetie those...T-those were happy screams!~

Mal(7)*Tilting head innocently* It didn't sound very happy to me, and you would hit the wall, and you said a lot of bad words. Lilia says when he is playing in the magic box...

Yuu*Slowly turns head with death glare at Lilia, Unimpressed seeing him flee with a giggling cleaned silver in his arms*...

Lilia*Dunks the dirty diaper on the trash and flees with sweat dropping on every pore of his body*"SHIT-"

Yuu: Y-yeah, To be honest, I...I don't remember doing that, I don't at all-

Mal(7)*Stands up on the sofa and thinking you actually forgot* You did! You said "OH LILIA BLEEP BLEEP BLEEEP!?" You said it like that! "OH BLEEP!?BLEEEEEEP"

Yuu*The hand holding sebek bottle drops and covers malleus mouth*OK!?-OK!?-i g-got it!?-

Baby!Sebek*Sees his bottle is down and can't drink his milkie, tears up sensing panic*B-bueweh?-....WAAAAAAH!?!-

Yuu*Panics and goes to lift Sebek's bottle and cradle him back and forth in arms*O-oh shhh shhh~

[fromdove]

ㅤㅤ ⁞ 𝓑RUCE 𝓦AYNE

ㅤㅤㅤ𝓦HEN 𝓗E'S 𝓘N 𝓛OVE 𝓗EADCANONS !

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨୧

— bruce wayne when he's in love hcs ᵎᵎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

— bruce wayne x fem!reader ᵎᵎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

© fromdove— All rights reserved. Reposting, translation, or modification of these works is strictly prohibited, regardless of whether credit is given.

∿　 　 . `💭` ㆍ

ok so. bruce. yeah. bruce in love. god. where do we even BEGIN??

⤷ first of all. he doesn’t even know it’s love at first. he thinks it’s concern. which is hilarious. like babe why are you “concerned” that i didn’t text you back for two hours. why are you staring at my location dot like it’s a bomb countdown. why are you outside my building like “you didn’t seem okay.” no, mr bat. that’s called caring. welcome to it

⤷ once he knows he loves you, once it clicks, it’s game over. like. you’ve won. you’ve captured the flag and the bat and the emotionally unavailable man behind the mask. the batcomputer has been updated to prioritise your location. alfred knows your coffee order. and lucius has seen probably your selfies by accident.

⤷ he does grand gestures to make your life easier. he will clear your schedule with a level of quiet power that would make an oligarch weep. he will pull strings you didn’t know existed just so you have an extra day off to rest. you ask how it happened. he just shrugs. says, “someone owed me a favor.” you’re afraid to ask who.

⤷ you try to have a normal night. a cute little stay-in date. movie. popcorn. fuzzy blanket. and he’s like “do you prefer 4K UHD or IMAX formatting??"

⤷ are you dating bruce wayne or being placed under 24/7 romantic surveillance. jury's out. you say “i’m kinda hungry” and 90 seconds later he’s got a reservation at the most soul-crushingly exclusive rooftop in gotham. your heel breaks and suddenly lucius is designing ergonomic stilettos. this man hears “i like daisies” and your apartment now looks like the florists’ union exploded. you cough once and suddenly there's a team of private physicians on standby and your apartment has a retinal scanner. you're like “i’m just going to target” and he’s like “take the reinforced car. with a panic button. and body armor. just in case.” JUST IN CASE WHAT, BRUCE. BLACK FRIDAY??

⤷ you’ll say something dumb like “what if ducks wore pants” and he’ll go all stoic like “ducks don’t have a pelvis structure conducive to that.” and you’re like. ok batman. thank you for that.

⤷ he’s so in love but so terrible at processing it. like he can literally track six mob families at once and somehow still be baffled when you say “i like spending time with you.” he stares. blinks. blue screen. rebooting…

⤷ and god. the possessiveness. like in a batman way. like someone breathes in your direction and he’s already memorizing their dental structure for potential breakage. “i don’t get jealous.” ok. sure. “i simply don't trust their intentions.” uh huh. oh. oh okay. stop being good at this???

⤷ when you fight?? oh boy. it’s a showdown. the emotional cold war. he says something sharp. you throw it back with fire. he’s like “i see you’re being emotional.” and you’re like “i see you’re being a jackass.” doors slam. hours pass. he shows up at your door at 2am with flowers. and a bag. “i brought you jewelry.” REAL FUCKING DIAMONDS. you melt. he wins. he always wins. he hates that he always wins. and then he apologizes. like fr this time. “i was... imprecise. and inconsiderate. i regret that.” you forgive him but you also throw a pillow at him. he cant work well knowing u fought and ur mad at him

⤷ “we have plans tonight. dress practically.” practically for what, bruce. you’re like “can we go to a museum?” and he’s like “i’ve arranged a private after-hours tour with the curator and secured the rooftop for dinner.” and you’re like 😭 i just wanted to see the dinosaurs. can we atleast get pizza. please.

⤷ he’s so awkward when he wants affection. like. he doesn’t ask. he just stands there. near you. like a confused statue. you’re watching tv and he’s lurking in the hallway. not saying anything. not moving. just. present. and when you finally go “do you want a hug??” he’s like “i wouldn’t object.” wouldn’t object. wow.

⤷ he kisses your wrist. not your hand. your wrist. where the pulse is. and it’s so tender you actually forget how to function. he does it like it’s a routine. like muscle memory. like that’s where your lifeline is and he wants to remind you he’s always right there. always.

⤷ he’s like “i cross-referenced your schedule and added buffer time between tasks to reduce burnout.” you’re like “thanks dad.” and he just. blinks. “i’m not your father.” IT WAS A JOKE. I SWEAR TO GOD.

⤷ you get used to the long stares and the over-prepared dates and the sudden security upgrades. you get used to him showing up at 3am because he “heard a rumor about increased gang activity near your block.” (before you moved in with him)

⤷ he won't let you pay for anything. ever. even a coffee. even gum. even when you try to trick him. he will venmo the bodega guy. you will be carrying a tote bag and he’ll grab it and hold it. he insists. he insists. bruce is not casual. about anything. he’s intense. obviously. like. duh. he’s not gonna be normal. about anything, least of all you.

⤷ you’ll be standing next to him at a gala and your heel will start hurting and he’ll murmur, dead serious, “i’ll buy the brand and shut it down.” like. ??? bruce. be normal. please.

(he’s never normal.)

⤷ “i’m not controlling, i’m just ensuring your safety” like ok bro why is there a tracker in my earring

⤷ also he doesn’t like attention. but he likes when you give it to him. likes when you fix his tie. likes when you straighten his cufflinks. likes when you get in his space just to annoy him and he goes “what do you want” dude ur batman figure it out?? tf??

⤷ he's obsessed with your safety. the man just appears. like you didn’t invite him. no one invited him. but you’re walking home and boom. there he is. in the shadows. bro shows up on a fire escape in full batsy costume like “hey” you’ll be like “how did you know where i was” and he’ll blink. once. slow. he’s like “i’m batman.” ok??????? um???????/ did u need something??? police help

⤷ he stares. jesus christtt. always with the staring. like you’ll be brushing your hair or pouring cereal or literally breathing. and he’s just. gazing. contemplative. like he’s solving a goddamn mystery. you’re like “what.” and he says “you’re very…important to me.” and you’re like ??? what does that mean ??? hello ???

⤷ he lets you touch the batsuit once. you make fun of him for it and he gets genuinely offended. but then you kiss him and say “thanks for protecting me batman” and bro almost combusts

⤷ he doesn’t smile a lot. like. ever. except you. you make him smile. and not just smirk smile. like. actual. real. warm smile.

⤷ bruce wayne = terrible texting. like. atrocious. he doesnt like texting. hes too old fashioned istg. he texts like a military directive. “ETA: 3 minutes.” “Location secure.” “Status update?” and then when you send him a heart emoji he replies “❤️ acknowledged.” what does that even mean. you say “did you see that video i sent” and he’s like “i don’t open links from unverified sources, you shouldn't either.” you say “you’re cute” and he just replies with a question mark. like. have you ever spoken to a woman

⤷ he’s TOUCHY but only in this obsessive hyper-controlled way. like hand on the small of your back when you walk into a room. always checking your pulse with his fingers during cuddles like it’s about affection but also science. forehead touches at 3am. wrapping you in his coat even when he’s freezing. “you’re colder than me.” bruce your lips are practically blue. please

⤷ he’s not good with words. but when he does say stuff. it’s always weirdly profound. like you’ll be eating fries in bed (YOUR idea ofc) and he’ll just go. “i never thought i’d have this.” and you’re like. what. fast food? a mattress? my socks??? eating fries in your bed?????? and he’s like “no. peace.” (well yes to the eating fries in bed ... never done that in his life before.. but he wants to try and express his feelings. just let him) and then after he says that you have to go cry in the bathroom for five minutes. oh. ok then. love. i guess.

⤷ you give him the password to your phone. you make him laugh. you keep bandaids in your purse for him. idk what that would do for a gunshot wound but its bat themed bandaids so. he makes you feel safe. like real safe. like apocalypse safe. like kingdom come safe. like ride-or-die safe.

⤷ he’s so tired. all the time. but he never says no when you ask him to stay. even if he’s bruised. even if he’s busy. he’ll sit on your floor in a $20,000 suit and listen to you talk about your weird coworker (who he'll definitely deal with)

⤷ he’s an observer. and not in a creepy way. in the “i’m making sure you’re safe and sound” way. also. like when you’re talking, he’ll catch the little things you don’t say out loud, the way you bite your lip when you’re nervous, or how your hands fiddle with your sleeves when you’re cold. he remembers. every. little. detail.

⤷ speaking of him being an observer, he memorizes everything you say. you mention one time that your mom used to get you those dumb lemon lollipops and three days later they’re in his desk drawer. you joke about wanting a tiara and he deadass bids on one in a silent charity auction and doesn’t tell you. you just find it one day on your nightstand and he’s like. “it’s nothing.” IT’S LITERALLY DIAMONDS???????//?/?

⤷ you make him laugh. maybe not loudly. but it happens. sometimes he’ll chuckle and press his face to your neck and whisper something dry and you’ll cackle and he’ll look at you like you hung the stars specifically for him to stare at from his penthouse window while sipping on a whiskey and thinking about a sense of moral responsibility that’s eaten most of his joy

⤷ he doesn't let anyone else drive you home. ever. unless he's If he’s Batman-ing, then he'll hire a TRUSTED driver that he's done a full background check on (so thoroughly it’s scary). but when he can, he's always there. silent. gloved hands. tired eyes. he's had a long night. he's seen too much. but you're there. and that’s the only thing that makes any of it feel remotely survivable.

⤷ he doesn’t trust people. like at all. like he has backup plans for his backup plans. but he trusts you. like. fully. quietly. deeply. like if you say “i want to move to paris and work in a bookstore” he’ll say “alright. give me a week.” and he’ll find a bookstore. and a brownstone. and a plane. and he’ll go with you. he proves time and time again how much he loves you. again and again. and again.

⤷ he doesn’t fall easily. he doesn’t even stumble. he calculates proximity. projects detachment. he walks around with that stupid little batman jaw and his trillion-dollar trauma and thinks he’s above emotions. thinks love is a vulnerability. a liability. a risk factor. thinks he can out-strategize intimacy like it’s a hostile takeover. ok sir. ok gotham’s most emotionally repressed man. ok batboy (emo depressed edition). until you. oh my god. until YOU.

⤷ suddenly he's looking at your face like it's an encrypted file he can’t crack. HE'S SUPPOSED TO BE BATMAN FOR CHRIST SAKE. what is this??? suddenly he's pulling up in that bulletproof matte black vehicle he calls a car just to drive you three blocks and “make sure you get home safe”. just say you want me to have all your babies?

⤷ he is SOOOOOOOO subtle about it. and by subtle i mean unhinged. he's like "i don’t care." and then buys the company you said your co-worker works at because he thought they were flirting with you. you mentioned liking cats once? now there’s one on his lap.

⤷ oh em gee. you’ll be standing in line for coffee. like a person. and he’ll be behind you. close. closer. hand on your waist like someone might try to steal you and he wants to make sure they know he invented violence. he trained with those damn tibetan monks.

⤷ bros looking down at you like you hold some secret nuclear code. and the cure to....idk world hunger or something. ur his god. he's ur guardian angel that does what he's told. what YOUUU tell him. he folds every time. acts like he's annoyed but like shut up we know you're going to do what i say anyways 🙄🙄🙄 me strong guy me batman blah blah blah

[to-the-stars8]

The Waynes' Nanny

Batfamily and Reader/ Bruce Wayne x Reader Chapters Ao3

My Type of Nanny

You wished Bruce hadn’t put you down as an emergency contact for the school. Every time one of the kids was sick or forgot something, the school would call you. Not even Mr. Wayne was all that impressed, and even thought it was a little sexist. He had called the school multiple times to inform them that he should have been the first person they called, but, alas, they never listened. 

That morning you had received a call from the principal informing you that Dick was in big trouble. When you asked what the “big” trouble was, the man refused to say and demanded that you get down to the school to see what had happened. You complied, leaving Damian in Alfred’s care. Bruce didn’t answer your phone call, more than likely in a meeting or on a date, so you decided to brave the storm alone. 

Dick was sitting opposite the principal with another boy sitting by his side when you entered. When the secretary announced you through, he hardly budged and continued to brood. Upon further inspection, it was evident that he had been in a fight. There was a cut under his eye, dirt all over his gym clothes, and a cut on his lip. Glancing at the other boy next to him, it was clear that Dick was the real winner of the fight. He was practically unscathed compared to the much taller, buff teenager next to him who was sporting a black eye, bloody nose, and a terrible head bump. 

“What happened?” You asked. 

“Won a fight,” Dick said with a smile. 

The kid next to him raised his fist to threaten Dick but was quickly stopped by his mother standing behind him. You bit back a chuckle before reaching over to press on the bruise blooming on Dick’s cheek. The boy winced before pushing your hand away. 

“Now’s not the time for your smartassery,” You remarked before turning to the principal. You gently pushed his face side to side to make sure nothing else was broken or bruised. When nothing else seemed out of place, you ruffled his hair before turning to the principal. “Alright, how’re we doing this?”

“Excuse me?” The man said, surprised. 

“How’re we doing this? Are both boys getting suspended, one getting suspended and the other…”

The principal laughed and waved his hands about like he was trying to get rid of any notion of the idea. “No, no, no. We won’t suspend either boy. Kids fight, we understand that here, but we do ask that, in return for not suspending the boys, a donation to the school be made. A quid pro quo, if you will.”

You were stunned into silence, surprised that money could be thrown about anywhere, and looked at Dick. He stared back at you expectantly, like he was waiting for you to call up his father and ask for money. The other woman was already getting out her checkbook while mumbling under her breath. 

“Absolutely not,” You said. “You can’t fight someone and get away with it.”

“Call Bruce, he’ll handle it.” Dick rolled his eyes and slouched in his chair. 

Before any other protest could leave your mouth, the secretary was already letting Mr. Wayne in. Bruce came in with an easy smile that charmed everyone else in the room, before stopping to clap his boy on the shoulder. 

“Looks like you got it rough, kiddo,” He said with a laugh. “Gotta stay off the playground!”

Everyone in the room laughed save for you and Dick, who mumbled something about how the other boy shouldn’t have messed with Jason. The principal went over the same request as before; donate and both boys would get off scot-free. You watched as Bruce’s hand slid into his pocket and pulled out his checkbook. As much as you didn’t like it, you held back the urge to reach over and snatch the checkbook right out of his hands. It wasn’t right to just pay your way out of a bad situation, but Bruce seemed to be happy to do it. 

Once the cheques were handed over to the principal, the boys were let go for the rest of the day. You scolded Dick on the way out, telling him that not only would he be banned from any and all games, but he would be spending his weekend in his room.

“No!” Dick whined before turning to Bruce. “You can’t let her do this! She’s not even my mom.”

“But she is your nanny, and it’s in her contract that she makes sure you don't turn into a brat,” Mr. Wayne said in a matter-of-fact tone. 

You smiled and thanked Bruce for backing you up, which made Dick exclaim, “Why don’t you two just get married already!”

You rolled your eyes, knowing that was just one of his ways to get what he wanted by saying something absurd, but Bruce scoffed. You caught that and quickly asked, “What was that scoff for? You think you’re too good to marry me?” Putting your hands on your hips, you stopped to look at Mr. Wayne. He stopped, too, suddenly realizing what he had done. 

“No. No, you’re just not my type,” Mr. Wayne said nervously like he didn’t want to say what he truly thought.

You snorted before mumbling, “And here I thought you were open to all.”

“What was that?” Mr. Wayne stopped to look at you. 

You put up your hands as you scooted around the man, urging Dick to get to the car. Mr. Wayne didn’t let it go though, following closely behind you as you continued to the car.

“Is this coming from the woman who has made a move on half of the people in the elite of Gotham,” Bruce remarked. 

“Hey, if you got to them first, I’ll respect it,” You said as you opened your car door. “I’m sure you rich boys don’t like to share.”

“I’m not going to be mocked by a door-to-door sales girl,” He said, leaning against the side of your car. 

Dick smiled to himself, glad that his plan of shifting the attention from him worked, and felt brave enough to even get out his GameBoy. As he played Mario, he listened to the two of you bicker like an old married couple. Alfred was right, the two of you really did like each other’s company too much. 

“Wow,” You laughed as you smacked your hands on the steering wheel. You glanced over at Dick in the passenger seat, seeing the GameBoy in his hand, and promptly reached over to take it. Handing it off to Bruce, you continued like nothing had happened, “Classist much?”

Mr. Wayne went to answer, but then he glanced over at Dick. He sucked in a breath and decided to let his comeback die there since it wouldn't have been suitable for his son to hear. “Just get him home and grounded.”

“Will do, and I’ll make sure to let Alfred know,” You said. 

“No!” Dick cried. Alfred’s punishments were the worst. 

You clapped the boy on the shoulder before winking at Mr. Wayne. Dick groaned, knowing full well that he was going to make sure you were never the first one to be called by the school again. 

[m3vl0vesu]

╰☆☆ 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 ☆☆╮

A/N: I don't really have any tw but it's probably gonba be sad, so be warned. I'm writing this with no hours of sleep and the worst mood in a while :). Also a oneshot, I was asked to write something gut-wrenching but I don't know if it is. Batsis!reader is 15-17 Your thoughts

@moraxussy I don't think it's as gut-wrenching as you hoped, sorry!! I hope you like it though :)

One of a bats closest relative is a puma, ironically they have nothing in common. Bats come in big groups, there always surrounded by at least one other bat. Pumas are solitary animals, they don't share their territory. They're recluse, and more viscous than bats.

You were more vicious. You didn't control your anger and grief, it controlled you, but you had to find a way mange it. Tomorrow was a special occasion after all, well that's what everyone was saying but...it didn't feel like it. Tomorrow, Bruce was bringing Selina Kyle over. The famous kleptomaniac aristocrat, also known as Catwoman. The thief turned...bat? You weren't exactly sure but it'd be nice for her and Bruce to finally clear up what they were. It must've been serious if she was going to have dinner with the family. Then again, you never really saw your dad be in a committed relationship. ... 'Dad'...nope still didn't sound right. Even after all the years living together he didn't deserve that title, at least not from you. The daughter of Bruce Wayne? it sounded so foreign to you, people saying that-it sounded wrong. No, you were your mothers daughter. It didn't matter if you couldn't picture her face anymore...yeah.

.

.

. For this special occasion you needed something special to where! You chose a vest suit, an off-white shirt underneath the brown, tattersall patterned vest. Paired with some old, black palazzo pants. It was a similar outfit your other had worn a while back, you saw it an old magazine rotting in the corner of your room. It felt nice to be dressed up for once, it'd gave you a reason to finally take a shower. With everyone making a big deal out of this you had a little hope that they would acknowledge you today. Maybe Selina could change things around here.

But as people ran chaotically in the hallway and different aromas travelled into your room, you realised something. Jason wasn't here. What. No, no...you couldn't survive these without him. Your leg shook as you waited for the phone to pick up. He was the only one that properly acknowledged your existence without being cruel. He was your favourite brother, favourite sibling. I mean the bar was low but, favourite nonetheless!

"What's up Star?" His voice sounded hoars, had he just woken up? Your irritancy only growing when he used that nickname. It was usually nice when he called you it, but right now it was the last thing you needed. "Don't call me that Jay. Where are you?" ...

The silence was deafening, he cleared his throat and it made you want to cry. "I'm sorry...I'm not coming kid." No. That wasn't fair. "Tch-Then can you...pick me up?" Your voice desperate as you hated all of it. A room full of people that don't even know you, and a stranger. It was personal hell. "Look, Star, I really think you'd benefit from thi-" You ended the call, scoffing, you pushed yourself off your bed.

.

.

.

She's so pretty She sat on the right side of Bruce. Who was, per usual, at the head of the table. Soon the peaceful moment turned loud. The sounds of knives scraping against plates, Steph's nails tapping the table, Tim an Damian bickering back to hell. Huh, the chicken was just out of your reach, usually Alfred would put it closest to your seat. After a few embarrassing minutes of reaching for it, and no one helping you, your just grabbed whatever was closest. At one point you swore you locked eyes with Tim while you were still reaching for the chicken and he just flat out ignored you. Maybe it was time to speak "uhm...can you pass...can you" why was this always so hard? "Can I...Can you pass the chicken please?" Now you were sure people heard you. You watched as Grayson picked up the plate and gave it to...Selina. Of-fucking-course.

"What am I, chopped liver?"

Shit. Your shoulders tensed up and your hands balled into fists on your lap. You were in so much- "Ha." Huh? Did she...laugh? Whatever. "Sorry...can you pass the chicken please?" She nodded, was it getting hot in here? Or was it just everyone looking at you?

"You never told me she had a sense of humour." She said, her soft smile shining as she turned to Bruce, the her eyes squinted. "I don't think you told me much about her at all actually." That sounds about right. He probably doesn't even know much about you. Her elbow leaned on the table and her chin rested on her fist. "Your Mother...she was a model right?" With those words she instantly got your attention, with your eyes shining you nodded. "Yeah! She was"

With the nod of her head she leaned back in her chair. "That outfit...she wore something similar to it." Oh you definitely like her.

Before you could respond, someone had to open their mouth. "She wasn't a very famous one." Damian said, his annoying voice once again ruining your mood. "Damian." Bruce muttered. You scoffed, usually these comments would be ignored. "privileged asshole." You poked at your plate, not really hungry anymore. In fact it felt like you might throw up, or break something. "What did you call me?" He said sitting up in his chair. "I called you a privileged asshole." You banged your fork onto the table, no everyone's attention was on you. From the corner of your eye you could see Tim's scowl, it was surprising him and Bruce weren't related. You couldn't take it when he slandered your mother, but for some reason you were the villian. "Star. Don't be like that." Dick nudged you, only making you recoil with disgust. "Who said you could call me Star? Don't call me that, dick." You heard your name being called, Alfred standing to the side. He was warning you. "Sorry-" "No need to be a bitch about it." Of course Steph had to join in, you felt your mouth open, ready to spew an infinite amounts of insults when you heard your name being called a second time. Pushing the chair and table hardly you walked behind him, being led to the kitchen. "I apologise for her behaviour." Bruce's voice rung in your ears. Fuck this. .

.

.

You stood, arms crossed out tapping your foot. "You need to have some decorum-" "Decorum? Me? What about Damian?" You hated arguing with the old man, you hated when he was upset at you. The tears were already pouring, could they here this? The door was slightly ajar after all. "Master Damian has been through a lot-" "Okay?" Your voice shook, it was so wrong. But it felt right, right screaming like this. "Yes. Yes he has, and? So have I."

Alfred, mouth was agape for a second, he hadn't seen her this upset before. "Now Miss...you can't compare-" Great now you lost first name privileges. "Right. Everyone's been through tough shit, guess what? So have I!" Your voice getting louder, the anger pulsing through your veins. "I've been hurt and I'd never treat them like how I've been treated!'' Your arm extended out to the door, your other hand slapping your chest. Where your heart would be.

"WHY!...Why is their pain different from my pain?"

The question hung in the air, you held back sobs. Alfred looked tired now, almost guilty. His composure wilting slightly. "It...that's not what I mean-" Now that you had started you couldn't stop. "Do I not deserve the same amount of recognition, the same amount of love?" You felt yourself taking a step back, your whole body shaking. It's like it had a mind of it's own. "You do deserve it, please calm down..." Calm down?. Calm down? She wanted to shout at him, this wasn't fair. "You know what Alfred?" The breaths getting shorter. "What Miss.." "I wish I had stayed inside that day, I wish I burned with my mother." He looked visibly shaken for a moment, his voice gave it away. "You don't mean that." "I mean it. That way I would've died with her, knowing she loved me." Your voice got quiet at the end, barely above a whisper. Why was it always this way? What did you ever do to them. You hated this, you weren't their family. With every similarity there was difference, not a Wayne and not a Bat. But even so why couldn't they accept that and accept you.

.

.

.

The butler placed whatever he was holding down, you didn't know what it was and didn't care. The sobs were too hard to control, it made your body ache. He stepped closer, arms wide as you fell into them. Clinging on like you were going to fall apart.

A/N: Why does this suck lol

[bigfan-fanfic]

Bats in the Web (Spider-Man!Batdad x Batfam)

What if batfam meets a version of Batdad who is Spider-Man in his universe??

"We can't interfere!" Bruce growls. "I know you want to help, but after the last world we jumped into, we can't take chances."

Dick sighs. The last world they went into, they nearly ruined everything because Gotham had no Batman yet.

But luckily, something descends upon the mugging in progress.

But it isn't Batman.

A strange silver cable zips into view and slams into the assailant's back, spreading in a strange geometric pattern. He stumbles forward at the force of the blow, before the cable springs taut, and the mugger is flung into the air.

Someone lithe and graceful sails through the air, trailing more silver cables and quickly wraps the stranger up in them, robotic arms emerging from their back to assist - almost like a four-armed... spider.

The mugger dangles upside down from a traffic light, completely mummified in silver, and the figure, in a black bodysuit with light-catching silver filaments in a web pattern shining along the whole thing, and what appears to be a yellow hood and short jacket, crouches atop it.

"You get home safe, you hear?" they call. "We'll just be... hangin' around."

The would-be victim grins up at them. "Thanks, Spidey!"

But the Bats are looking shocked.

Because that was clearly your voice, only slightly altered by a voice changer - the voice you use when you broadcast to negotiate with people while they're on patrol.

Before they can speak, though, you've flung yourself through the air, opening your arms to reveal the gliding wings attached from your sides to the arms of your jacket so you can sail through the air.

"Pops is... Spider-Man?" Dick yelps.

From what they can surmise, in this universe, Bruce still lost his parents at a young age, but he didn't develop the desire to become Batman.

Instead, while on a field trip, you were exposed to some kind of radioactive spider, and Bruce did what he could to keep your secret and develop his technological aptitude to help you.

It was Alfred's death that convinced you to become a hero - his last words to you being that with great power came great responsibility.

You and Bruce are still very young in this world, barely old enough to have adopted a young Dick Grayson. It's probable that Damian won't be born, and Tim won't be adopted by you.

You're so much more cheerful than Batman - Gotham's Spider-Man quips, sometimes with dark humor, and inspires her citizens to fight back against the oppressive darkness of their city with good humor and clever tactics.

The Bats make their way to Wayne Manor, only to find the harsh brickwork and traditional architecture has made way for modern-quality of life improvements, fiber optic light fixtures, glass bay windows, and high tech at every turn. It barely resembles their Wayne Manor.

In fact, the caverns beneath the estate aren't even utilized, with there instead being a high-tech laboratory on the grounds with a launchpad to fling you over the bay and into the city.

It's a shock to see them - Bruce Wayne, his body in shape but much softer: he obviously works out hard but he's clearly not a fighter. His movements are relaxed, even sluggish compared to the constant vigilance of the Bat. And he wears an unfamiliar expression on his face - a genuine lazy grin.

Meanwhile there's this world's you - lithe and strong, battle-worn and with the at-rest tension of a vigilante.

Alt-Bruce and you have an easy banter, a love very much like two young people - you're only a little older than Dick, after all, which he finds weird - especially when he and Tim babysit his younger version.

Jason is utterly touched when Alt-Bruce asks about all the kids, so he can make sure to adopt them - he wouldn't want them going homeless in this world. All Jason knows is that young Jason Todd in this world might just be saved from years of trauma.

You're still the strategist, but Bruce is your mission control and the gear/science guy - he helps with upgrades and is the one to suggest a way to get the Bats back to their world.

But you'll need their help.

You fly through the city that night accompanied by five gliding shadows. Shadows that brutally subdue the henchmen of Black Mask as you soar above their heads, connecting some power towers with a filament web, forming a major circuit Alt-Bruce can use to power a tachyonic collider, which should launch them back into their world.

They return to their world, but Jason pulls Bruce aside.

"B... you owe him."

"Owe him what? Who, Jaybird?"

Jason sighs. "Pops. You owe him a chance to see that smile. On you."

Bruce looks at him. "You think my face can still do that?"

"Hey, I was surprised that you were actually funny! But... yeah, I do."

"Maybe you're right. Maybe you're right..."

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Adventures in Baby Sitting || Bruce Wayne ||

A/n: Love writing dad! Fics

It started off so sweetly.

You had a gala. Bruce had a press conference. Alfred was busy replacing the Batcave’s missile panel with a Dora the Explorer DVD slot. So Barry—sweet, well-meaning Barry—volunteered.

“I’ve faced meta-humans, aliens, and reverse-time paradoxes,” he said with a grin, crouching to your daughter’s level. “One tiny toddler? Easy.”

Bruce looked up from buttoning his cufflink.

“You’ll be dead in an hour.”

Barry laughed.

He didn’t know.

Hour One: “Snacktime Speedrun”

Barry made lunch.

Your daughter made war.

She requested a peanut butter sandwich—“But not the crunchy one, I hate crunch, I want soft, but not the soft soft, the jiggly soft, like clouds.”

He blinked. “That’s… not a thing.”

She screamed like a banshee and launched a juice box into the ceiling fan.

Thirty seconds later, Barry had prepared six different sandwiches at super-speed, sweating like a hostage as she stared him down with the scrutiny of a Michelin critic.

“I want pancakes.”

He almost cried.

Hour Two: Arts and Catastrophes

Barry proudly laid out a crafts table with non-toxic glitter glue, stickers, and safety scissors.

She used the glue to trap his hands to the floor.

He tried to phase through it.

She smacked his forehead and said, “No cheating, fast boy.”

He sat there for twenty minutes—defeated, sparkling, and glued to a plastic mat—while she drew on his suit with washable marker.

“Why do I have boobs?” he asked quietly.

“That’s your super chest.” She added glitter nipples. “Like Daddy’s suit but fancier.”

Barry silently accepted his fate.

Hour Three: The Speed Force Incident

She wanted a piggyback ride.

Barry, finally thrilled he could do something right, picked her up and zoomed around the yard.

Unfortunately, she discovered momentum-induced giggles trigger something called Power Giggle Syndrome—where she laughed so hard, she peed herself at Mach 2.

Barry didn’t even know what hit him.

One second: high-speed laughter.

Next: soggy red blur skidding to a stop in your living room.

“I THINK I BROKE PHYSICS,” he screamed, holding your happily squealing child at arm’s length.

“I peed on Flash!!” she shouted proudly.

Hour Four: The Return of the Batmobile

Bruce explicitly told Barry not to let her near it.

But while Barry blinked—and in his defense, that’s pretty fast—she vanished.

Thirty seconds later, the Batmobile roared to life.

“I HACKED IT WITH CHEEZ-ITS!” she screamed, standing upright through the sunroof as it reversed full-speed into the koi pond.

Barry stood in the yard, dripping wet, holding a koi fish and his dignity like they both might flop away at any moment.

“She… she rewired it with snacks.”

Bruce arrived two minutes later.

Didn’t say a word.

Just stared at Barry.

Barry stared back.

“Please take her before she becomes a god.”

Later that evening, your daughter cuddled up between you and Bruce, hair full of glitter, tutu damp, Batmobile in ruins.

Barry sat on the floor, wrapped in a towel, still blinking glitter out of his eyelashes.

“She called me Fast Mommy for the last two hours,” he whispered numbly. “I don’t even know why.”

“She does that when she likes you,” you smiled.

Barry twitched. “I think I’ve been liked to death.”

Bruce just patted him on the shoulder.

“She’s yours next weekend,” he said calmly.

Barry screamed.

Clark Kent, Superman, Man of Steel, Earth’s protector…

was babysitting your daughter.

It seemed like a safe choice.

She adored “Uncle Clark.” He was calm, kind, and most importantly, invulnerable. The Fortress of Solitude had a playpen. What could possibly go wrong?

You handed her off with a diaper bag and a juice pouch. She gave Clark a gummy bear salute and kissed your cheek.

“She’s never been on Krypton,” Bruce warned.

Clark waved it off with a smile. “I’ve faced Doomsday. I think I can handle one tiny Wayne.”

You and Bruce just exchanged a slow, knowing look.

Hour One: Welcome to the Fortress

Clark gave her a tour.

She immediately licked the crystal walls.

“Is this candy?” she asked, mid-slurp.

“No, sweetheart—”

“Why not?!”

She climbed into a molecular stabilizer and started pressing buttons with her elbows.

By the time Clark fished her out, she had somehow tuned into the communication system of a hostile alien species and declared herself Princess Sparkleboom of Earth.

“Bow before me or I’ll steal your socks!!”

Clark shut it down just before galactic war.

Hour Two: Kryptonian Storytime

Clark tried to settle her down with a bedtime story about old Krypton legends. He spoke gently, explaining the House of El crest, the importance of hope.

She stared at him in complete silence.

Then, very seriously, whispered: "Does this story have a dragon?”

“…No.”

“Then I hate it.”

She ripped a pillow in half with her teeth, declared herself “Queen of Fire and Screaming,” and began to gallop through the halls on all fours.

Hour Three: The Flight Test

Clark hovered to show her a trick.

She exploded into shrieks of joy, arms out, bouncing like a feral Tinkerbell.

“I WANNA FLY TOO!! I WANNA BE JUST LIKE SUPERMAN!!”

Clark chuckled. “Maybe when you’re older—”

She bolted.

Straight up the spiral staircase. Out onto the ledge. And before he could finish blinking:

“LOOK UNCLE CLARK I’M DOIN’ IT!!”

“WAIT—NO—”

She jumped.Off the fortress tower.Into the open air.

Clark caught her at sonic speed—arms full of giggling chaos, snot bubbles, and wind-whipped pigtails.

She shrieked, “AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN!” as he tried not to pass out mid-air.

“You nearly gave me a heart attack!” he wheezed.

She blinked innocently.

“…What’s a heart attack?”

“You are one!!”

Hour Four: Return to the Batcave

Clark touched down on the Wayne Manor lawn with your daughter perched on his shoulders, eating half a banana and wearing his cape like a toga.

Bruce opened the door.

Clark didn’t speak.

He just handed her over.

“I can’t feel feelings anymore,” he said.

Your daughter waved. “I JUMPED OFF A TOWER AND DID A SPIN!!”

Bruce arched a brow. “Did she try to fly again?”

Clark looked traumatized. “She did.”

“She calls that ‘Tuesday,’” you added helpfully.

Clark slowly backed away, cape dragging, eyes wide.

“Goodbye. Forever. I’m going to space now.”

⸻

Later that night, your daughter curled into Bruce’s lap while he read her Goodnight Moon: Gotham Edition and you cleaned glitter out of her eyebrows.

“I like Uncle Clark,” she mumbled.

“He likes you too,” Bruce said dryly. “You gave him a whole nervous breakdown.”

“…What’s a breakdown?”

“You’ll find out when you’re thirty,” you muttered, brushing peanut butter off her neck.

Hal Jordan thought babysitting your daughter would be a walk in the park.

“I’ve led intergalactic missions through hostile warzones,” he bragged, sunglasses on indoors. “I’ve stared down Sinestro and flown through black holes. One Bat-kid? Please. I’ve got this.”

Bruce deadpanned, “She bit Bane.”

“She also bit a Roomba,” you added.

“She’s three,” Bruce said flatly. “You won’t survive.”

Hal winked. “I’ll be fine.”

Hour One: Ignition

Hal built her a mini Ferris wheel out of green constructs.

She called it “The Vomit Tornado.”

Ten minutes in, she tricked Hal into riding it while she cranked the speed to max by jumping on the console with both feet.

Hal screamed like a man on fire as the construct whipped him around like laundry in a hurricane.

When it finally collapsed, he lay on the floor moaning.

She stood over him holding a juice pouch like a war trophy.

“I WON,” she declared.

Hour Two: The Shrieking

Hal tried to distract her with cartoons.

She demanded to watch Shark Week.

Then she asked if they could fight the sharks.

When Hal said no, she growled at him. Like—actually growled. Deep and feral. Pupils dilated. Crouched low like a jungle cat.

Hal—whose power ring has withstood cosmic horrors—flinched.

She lunged.

He screamed.

Hour Three: The Cage

Bruce and you walked into the manor a little earlier than expected.

It was quiet.

Too quiet.

You found Hal on the couch. His sunglasses were gone. His shirt was ripped in half. He had sticker tattoos on his face. His expression was hollow. Haunted. Utterly broken.

Your daughter?

Was sitting in a glowing green Lantern-made cage, happily eating string cheese and humming the Imperial March.

Bruce’s brow twitched.“…Hal. Why is my daughter in a cage?”

Hal didn’t look up.“She growled at me.”

You blinked. “And that warranted imprisonment?”

“She had the look, man. The ‘I’m about to flip a couch and set fire to your eyebrows’ look. I wasn’t taking any chances. I’ve seen that look on Batman. I barely survived it then.”

Bruce looked at his three-year-old daughter doing interpretive dance in containment.

“I’m going to ask you one more time: Why is my daughter in a cage?”

Hal turned, eyes wild.

“She called me a ‘weak meat balloon’ and tried to put glitter in my mouth. I panicked.”

There was a beat of silence.

Your daughter grinned. “He screamed like a dolphin!”

Hal stood up. “I gotta go. I think she stole my ring password.”

“You’re wearing it—” you began.

“Hal glanced down at his ran then, flees the room.

That night, you found Bruce tucking her into bed as she snuggled with a stuffed bat she’d named “Captain Growl.”

“She did great,” Bruce said, brushing a strand of hair off her forehead. “Didn’t even bite anyone.”

You looked over your shoulder to see Hal pacing the driveway muttering about PTSD and juice pouches.

“She did better than him,” you agreed.

Your daughter sighed happily, whispering:

“Next time I want to babysit Aquaman.”

Bruce paled.“We’re moving.”

It started with a simple family dinner.

Bruce had called everyone in—Alfred made pasta, you made a dessert, and the Batfam sat down like semi-functioning human beings for a rare peaceful evening.

Until you noticed something. Something terrifying.

Your daughter…

was sitting on Jason’s lap.

Feeding him cheese puffs.

And Jason?Was letting her.Smiling.

“B?” you whispered, elbowing your husband.

“I see it,” Bruce muttered.

Jason ruffled her hair, and she giggled like a gremlin, her humming that Jason is the best big brother.

This was very bad.

The Next Morning: Chaos.

Jason was supposed to be on patrol.

Instead, he was spotted in Gotham’s East End riding a tiny tricycle through an alleyway while your daughter sat in the basket with sunglasses and a Nerf gun, shouting:

“THIS IS BATGIRL TWO-POINT-OH, ENGAGE OPERATION JUICE BOX!”

Bruce was already in the Batmobile when the alert came through.

“Jason,” he growled into the comm.

“Explain yourself.”

Jason laughed. “Can’t. Infiltration mission. We’re deep behind enemy lines. She said there was a squirrel mafia in this neighborhood and I’m not risking it.”

“She’s three.”

“She said the safe word is ‘grape jam.’ If you hear that over comms, we’re compromised.”

Bruce almost swerved into a dumpster.

Later That Day: The Incident

Jason thought it’d be funny to show her how to shoot rubber bullets from a safe distance. He created a little dummy out of pool noodles.

She named it “Tim.”

“Why does it have a frown?” Bruce asked flatly.

“She said it looked like ‘that one guy who talks like a calculator,’” Jason said proudly.

The dummy was dismembered in under thirty seconds.

You came downstairs to find the two of them rewatching the footage in slow motion like it was game tape.

“She’s got form,” Jason muttered. “She’s a natural.”

You covered your mouth. “I’m scared.”

“You should be,” Alfred whispered from behind you.

Final Straw: The Flamingo Incident

Jason took her for ice cream.That’s what he said.

What really happened? They “accidentally” stole one of Penguin’s decorative flamingos from a ritzy gala, painted it black, and flew it from the rooftop with a little cape on it.

Jason called it “Birdwing.”

She called it “Sir Pecks-a-Lot.”

Bruce got the call from GCPD.

The flamingo glided through city traffic for three blocks before crashing into a hot dog stand.

You had to pay damages.

Jason framed the security footage.He saved the video on his laptop, in his safehouse.

The Banning

It was a calm evening.

Jason walked into the manor, your daughter riding piggyback while holding two juice boxes like pistols.

Bruce met them at the door with arms crossed.

“You’re banned,” he said.

Jason blinked. “What? From what?”

“From her. No more team-ups. No more rogue missions. No more bat-tricycle patrol. You’re a bad influence.”

Jason just stared at him.Then looked at your daughter.

They both… shrugged. In sync.

Jason smirked. “We’ll find a way.”

Bruce growled. “I will put a tracker on your boots.”

Jason grinned wider. “Already melted them.”

Later That Night

You curled up beside Bruce in bed, your daughter finally asleep after declaring Jason her “blood brother forever.”

“I’m serious,” Bruce muttered. “They’re dangerous together.”

“She’s three,” you teased.

“She’s Jason at three. That’s worse.”

You kissed his cheek.“You love them.”

He didn’t deny it.But when your daughter sleep-mumbled “ride or die,” Bruce rolled over and whispered into the darkness:

“…I’m putting her in prep school in Tibet.”

Despite the mayhem.

Despite the explosions.

The glitter missiles.

The Bat-tricycle crime sprees.

And the time she rewired the Batcomputer to say “Welcome, Princess Doom-Bug” every time Bruce logged in—

There was one soul in the entire universe she never terrorized.

Never growled at.

Never bit.

Never plotted the downfall of.

.......

And his name…

was Alfred.

⸻

The Manor, 8:00 AM

“Your Majesty,” Alfred greeted, bowing as she toddled into the kitchen in her fuzzy slippers and tiny Batman pajamas.

She gasped and curtsied perfectly. “Sir Alfie, my trusted knight!”

Bruce, half-asleep and burnt out, stared in confusion as his feral toddler climbed up into her chair with angelic grace and folded her napkin in her lap.

“She called me a ‘trash bat’ yesterday,” he muttered.

Alfred poured her a cup of milk into a dainty china teacup.

She sipped it like a lady. Pinky up. No crumbs.

Then she tossed a biscuit at Bruce’s head.

“She’s practicing etiquette, Master Wayne,” Alfred said calmly as Bruce wiped crumbs off his suit. “Projectile diplomacy.”

Later That Day: Tea Time Terror? Nope.

Alfred hosted a tea party in the garden.

She arrived in full princess gear—plastic crown, sparkly tutu, and tiny pearls she swore were “from my dragon hoard.”

“Would you like one lump or two, Sir Alfie?” she asked sweetly, pouring invisible tea with a level of grace that would shame the Queen of England.

Alfred took his cup. “Two, if it please Your Grace.”

She giggled and handed him a chocolate chip scone with both hands like it was a sacred artifact.

Ten minutes. No screaming. No growling. No flamingos set on fire.

Just polite conversation about butterflies and war crimes committed by her plush bunny named “Rage-Muffin.”

Alfred nodded solemnly. “Indeed. Very strategic.”

Meanwhile, in the Batcave…

Jason: “She just tried to bite Damian for calling her ‘Tiny Trouble.’”

Dick: “She kicked me in the shin because I said her crown was crooked.”

Tim: “She used my laptop to order twenty pounds of glitter glue.”

Damian: “I caught her trying to tape the cat to my back.”

Bruce: sipping coffee “She offered me a worm sandwich and called it ‘peace pie.’”

They all looked toward the garden where Alfred was teaching her to play chess. She was nodding politely, sipping milk, and smiling like a cherub.

Jason blinked."She’s a con artist.”

Bruce groaned."She’s training under him.”

That Evening: Bat-Bedtime

Alfred carried her to bed like royalty, her head tucked against his shoulder, eyes fluttering closed.

“Goodnight, Sir Alfie,” she mumbled. “You’re my favorite.”

Alfred smiled softly. “Sleep well, little lionheart.”

He laid her down, tucking the covers around her with the precision of a soldier and the tenderness of a saint.

She was out in seconds.

No tantrum. No chaos. No chaos energy.

Bruce stood in the doorway, blinking in disbelief.

“She told me I smell like burnt toast and disappointment,” he said. “Alfred, how do you do it?”

Alfred smiled as he turned off the light.

“I’m British, sir. We’re trained to survive very small tyrants.”

[gayestsimp]

DadZawa! (Batdad Aizawa reader)

How it all started.

This will be kinda another series, but ask and request relating to this is completely fine! And some can be apart of the story! No word count, laziness lol

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In this world, eighty percentage of the population had a superpower known as a quirk. Each of these people typically had unique powers, some having the ability to shoot lasers from any part of their bodies, transform into large lizards or a permanent transformation into a being made of rocks. One of those people were (Name). He had a quirk call ‘Erasure’ and as long as he kept his eyes open and on someone, they wouldn’t be able to use their own quirks- well except for mutant type quirks.

When (Name) was four, he met a six year old boy named Bruce Wayne. Both quickly becoming friends and close. Bruce was a kind and friendly person, and he didn’t seem to care about what quirk anyone had, he didn’t even have one. But instead of crying or hating that, he was fine with it- loved it even, always blabbering on how he could be like his mom and dad- neither having quirks- and still do amazing things, such as charities, and work through their company. It made (Name) happy that his best friend wants to do his best to help others even without a quirk.

Though suddenly, two years go by, and Bruce was now eight, and one night, his entire life changes, his parents being shot in front of him in an alleyway- once (Name) was made aware of what happened? Well the young boy bawled his own eyes out. He had met Thomas and Martha Wayne quite a bit in those two years- having his own birthdays with his friends, including Bruce, so the billionaire’s parents alway arrived- and he spent a couple sleepovers in Bruce’s manor- so he grew to see them a second set of parents. His own mother and father took the boy to the Manor, growing concerned for the young male as well, hoping the two best friends can stick together and help one another. They would be greeted by Alfred, all three going inside as (Name) made his way to Bruce’s room, leaving the adults to talk amongst themselves. Then he would finally see Bruce after slowly opening the boy’s door, seeing him weeping, slowly (Name) approached Bruce, looking at the older boy and sitting next to him on his bed, slowly hugging the older boy- causing Bruce to jolt for a second, eyes widening as quickly hugged back- allowing them both to cry at the passing of the Wayne’s Patriarch and Matriarch. (Name) would spend the night with Bruce, both eventually becoming exhausted and falling asleep on the bed.

Over the next couple years, just before Bruce turned fourteen, (Name) would spend a lot more time around the manor, helping his friend out with his grief as best he could, both even training a little- as (Name) planned to enter one of the greatest hero schools. Yuuei, or as as it sounds- U.A. Which was once only in Japan, before the school was transferred to the USA after more quirks started appearing the States than over Japan. The boy only had to wait three years, but he would soon be entering the entrance exam as soon as he could… though he knows the possibility that his quirk and skills may not let him pass the exam- he may have some issues, so he also planned to apply for the General Ed as backup course- he could always use the sports festival to show his talent off and enter the Hero course- if he passes it that is.

And soon enough, Bruce was fourteen and (Name) was twelve- with Bruce planning on leaving and explore the world, to gain as much skill and knowledge as he could, in order to “Protect this city and help it.” As he put it- or how (Name) remembers Bruce saying it- the boy had been practicing with his quirk a lot lately, causing bags to appear under his eyes and a little slower in processing everything with a change to his sleep schedule. But over the next ten years, both boys started to yearn for one another… at first they were confused- they both thought they just missed one another, but than a year passed- and that feeling didn’t disappear, with both eventually concluding that they were in love with one another- or at least crushing on each other. (Name) would often visit and sleep at the manor, helping Alfred and keeping the butler company- as they both awaited for Bruce’s return, and Alfred has even been teaching (Name) all sorts of skill from the butler’s older times in service, such as his combat medic training, hand to hand combat and quite a few other important skills, even cooking. On the third year that Bruce was gone, (Name) became fifteen and took the exam, both of the hero course entrance exam and than the general education exam. Than he had to wait for his letter of acceptance into either course or a complete rejection. It caused the teen some stress to wait, his parents having to comfort him. Than his letter arrived- and after opening it? He was actually happy. He was accepted for the hero course, just scraping up enough points to be accepted, immediately rushing to his parents to show them, and than calling up Alfred and telling him the news as well.

Than he had his first days in the hero course at U.A and it was fine- (Name) was truly more introverted than most, often preferring the quiet- it didn’t help that he was now constantly tired due to his quirk. But he did make a group of friend. Hizashi Yamada, Nemuri Kayama and Oboro Shirakumo. They were all loud and acted dumb at times- well Hizashi and Oboro mostly- but (Name) loved them all. They were friends and his new extended family in a way… though he won’t admit that.

And after his third year, (Name) finally graduated and was now a full blown hero, becoming the pro hero, Eraser Head- becoming an underground hero, to better use his quirk by keeping it more secretive and deploying the various stealth skills and combat skills that Alfred had taught him. And than, a few more years would pass until (Name) was twenty two, and finally Bruce would return when he was twenty four. Both friends reuniting finally, tears were shed, and spilt all over as the two finally reconnected after ten years. Though those tears weren’t many from either male.

Now they both say in the living room, talking as (Name) was drinking coffee, effectively his lifeline now, but there was an odd tension in the air- the cause of it was their unspoken feelings for one another. Soon enough it would be brought up. Both quickly realising the other felt the same, and so- they started dating. And they would continue to say like that for a while, though two years after they started to date, a vigilante would start appearing on the streets of Gotham, in a bat themed costume, with many people starting to call him ‘Batman’ and (Name) would quickly find out who he was- his boyfriend, Bruce , having eventually telling him- revealing his plans to help Gotham as best he could. They both knew that it would be difficult for a quirkless individual to become a hero, and Bruce didn’t want to go through all of that to just be a hero, and he can’t face any issues for using a quirk… but it was still illegal. But (Name) knowing Bruce and the hood he wants to do, and their relationship… he would have to turn a blind eye… the assistance in the dark would also be helpful. So they both just continued on, with (Name) often helping cover up Bruce’s presence in the area and allow the Bat to escape. Than another year passed, (Name) was now twenty five and Bruce was twenty seven. With the older man taking his boyfriend out on a date to a nice restaurant- something that the underground hero wasn’t entirely fond of, preferring a minimalist lifestyle himself, but still went to since Bruce wanted to treat him tonight, and for a good reason, as around half an hour in, Bruce would end up getting into one knee and asking for (Name) to marry him. (Name) said yes. (Name) had also started to take up a teaching role in U.A, alongside his friends to teach the next generation of Heroes, wanting to ensure they had what it would take, if they could handle life or death situations like himself and Bruce. Than (Name) was twenty seven, and his now husband had returned home with a twelve year old boy- his name was Dick Grayson, leaving (Name) to softly sigh and drink his coffee. “My at home problem child, huh?” Was all he asked before introducing himself to the boy. His son. His problem child.

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[theonlymanny]

Bruce Wayne x Batdad Reader!

Being Bruce’s husband wasn’t as easy as you thought there were a lot of difficulties in your life while being married to him.But it was all good he loved and you loved him. Simply as that, you guys met because you where a famous singer and met at one of his galas.

At first he was all flirty and honoring his playboy persona. You didn’t show any interest at first because who doesn’t flirt with M/n. But Bruce was kind of charming and really nice. Beside everything you heard from him. And then you woke beside him in bed. “Oh my fucking-” anyway- let’s leave that behind.

After that night you thought he would leave you like it never happened and keep going on with his life, but surprisingly he invited you on a date. A couple years later you met Alfred a really nice person and enjoyed your company. And all of that disappeared because your 5 year boyfriend left you without a word for 10 fuckin years.

“Hey Alfred have you heard from Bruce I didn’t see him today” “oh master M/n… I thought you knew…” after that you promised to never trust anyone that easily, sure it affected you but you weren’t going to stop and be miserable. You decided to take out some new songs.

“M/N is back!” Your fans were going crazy! Everybody thought you quit the music career and left. And… Bruce well not like he didn’t care about you he just wanted to make a change. He was training to protect you and Alfred. And then he was there your “boyfriend” you were spending time with Alfred. You weren’t going to leave him alone for 10 whole years!

“H- hi umm…” Bruce looked at you. He looked much muscular and old… “ Alfred I think I should go…” you took your things and while you were about to open the door Bruce grabbed your hand. “Don’t you-” “please let me explain…” you lost right there “what Bruce!? Explain that you left me for 10 years!” Bruce was shocked. He remembered you much calmer and shy.

You let him explain why he leaved you. Because you were still young you gave him another opportunity. Some years later you met Richard or Dick who you protected with your life and refused to let him be robin. “Sweetheart please…” you refused to look at him “Bruce it’s too dangerous for a literal kid to be fighting grown ass men or women who want to hurt him!” Dick heard your discussion somewhat regretting he asked Bruce to be his sidekick. You saw Dick on the corner wanting to cry… “oh… Richard why are you crying?” “I’m sorry… I didn’t want you to fight I I- just wanted to help.” You sighed “I’m not sure if I’m going to regret this but… I guess you can go help Bruce…” Bruce smiled and Dick celebrated and hugged you. “Thank you!” You looked at Bruce and said darkly“Bruce if something happens you are going to regret being Batman” Bruce only laughed and hugged both of you.

After some years Dick grew older and became a teenager. “Hey Dick what do you want to eat today?” Dick really grew trust in you that he called you dad first than Bruce. “Dunno dad maybe some pancakes??” And while Dick and Bruce were patrolling Bruce found Jason a young boy trying to steal the Batmobile’s tires.

Jason really liked you he had a better relationship with you then Bruce or Dick. He would often ask you to read him books. It was like that until that day… Joker captured Jason. “hey Bruce!” When you went to the bat cave you only found Dick and Bruce. “Where’s Jason?” You were more then devastated when he died.

You and Bruce barely spoke, Dick tried to make you both love each other again, but he couldn’t even make you both sleep in the same bed. After 1 or 2 years Bruce decided to adopt another kid. Tim. That’s when you started thinking about divorce.

“Really!? Another kid you wanna harm this one too?” You started loosing respect from Bruce, but there was nothing you could do he was so stubborn.

In those years that Tim became and trained to be a robin. You also trained… to kill the guy that took your son. You learned how to use every weapon you had on your use, you where stronger and faster, and learned a lot of fight movements.

The day you heard your third son was captured… you didn’t let Bruce handle this. You went there by yourself with a shotgun,gun, rifle, a lot of more utensils that would help you get your son back.

The building was quiet there was no sign of life but only lifeless body’s all around you opened the door and automatically shot the Joker on his knee. “Aaaaaaaaah!” He screamed in agony while watching you above him. “Tim… go.” Tim looked at you and before he left he hugged you. “It will be okay…” after you made sure he left you grabbed a metal pipe and left the Joker on a wall. “Hahahahahahah! Let me guess you are going to kill me! WOW I’m so scared!” You looked at him angrily and hit him with the metal pipe. “ SHUT THE FUCK UP!” He spat blood all over the floor. “Batsy is not gonna let you kill me” he laughed quietly. “Well guess what… I will make sure he doesn’t interfere. And I my self will make sure you don’t take anyone else’s kid again” Joker looked confused but then realized. “You are robins Dad! Batman’s husband!” That name hurted you… “well guess what it was so fun I don’t regret it.” He was pushing your limits. You started breathing loudly and one by one you killed the man that killed your kid.

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Hey yall! I think this was my longest post but I hope y’all like it. I leaved a tlou reference In there. That’s all! There might be part 2 tho.

[kenwio]

Joker's kid reader! Blamed just for existing: how batfamily pushed them away

Route: black fog

Author`s note: study workload is crazy and I keep getting sick, but I finaly manage to work on the Black fog route. Sorry and hope you will like that

Warning: angst

Living in a manor was certainly better than living in the crime alley. You were safe, you had food, you even had your own room. All of this was great, sure, and for all of this you were deeply thankful for... but you couldn't shake of one icky feeling that was there no matter what. You never felt welcomed.

And taking the fact that you didn't even lift your hopes up that all of the batfamily members will love you, you couldn't deny that you got this uneasy feeling around them, it felt too heavy, too suffocating, too unbearable, too familiar. You felt like a plagued sick stray cat that was picked up from streets and placed into house with clean breed cats, and for all you knew, you hated how it felt. You felt like you were part of yet another experiment, and you hated this even more.

Yeah, Alfred was trying to care, and he genuinely tried to, but his gazes send chills down your spine, you felt like he was trying to analyze you, and it reminded you of how your father uses to stare at you, when he had experimented on you, as if he tried to figure out every single detail about you. And it didn't help that in trying to prove yourself helpful you ended up breaking things: dishes, cups, some electronics. You wished you were less clumsy, so that the old butler sees you are not that bad, that he sees you were trying to do something, to be less useless and more grateful for your new house. But all your hopes crumbled with every attempt. And in the end, you started giving up. If you are incapable to do things right, why doing them at all?

Tim analyzed your every move even more than Alfred did, but if you felt like old butler did it a subtle way, Tim didn't even hide it. And this was even more sickening, making you feel like a lab rat. You were sure that Tim would not hesitate to experiment on you too, and only thig stopping him now was the fact that Bruce took you in with another purpose. You felt like he was waiting for the time, as if you were the time bomb about to blow. Well, it was the same for Joker so automatically it's the same for you, Tim reassures himself. When you tried to approach, he didn't let you to, whether he walked away or closed the door. When you tried to speak, he put on his headphones. And it wasn't that bad, at least he looked at you, you thought hoping you could build your relationship on that. Maybe you two could find a way to get along, you thought catching another observant and hostile glare of the icy blue eyes.

And if Tim with Tim you felt like he hated you, with Jason and Damian it was more than obvious. Especially with Jason. It got to a point that you had to hide in your room when Jason was coming over. One time you noticed him in library when he was visiting the manor, and you decided to see what he was up to because you wanted to get to know him, but feared to approach him straight.  Seeing him choosing a book, sitting in the sofa comfortably and reading the book was strangely comforting and fascinating view, the one you couldn't look away. But he caught you peeping, and the result of that was really ugly. He was livid, yelling at you with unimaginable anger, while all you could do is to shake as you listened to it all. After that you had to stay in your room when he was staying for dinner, night over, breakfast. You just didn't want to be yelled at like that anymore. You made him angry. You made him angry because all he saw in you were your father. You had to clue how to act with him, he to resolve it.

And as for Damian, you learned he saw you as threat, because of your background and his family background. He didn't even hide that he was ready to attack you any given moment. You felt unsafe when you noticed him. Every last bit of your self-preservation instinct was telling you he was a danger, even though he wasn't as enraged as Jason. You hated living in one corridor with him knowing that you will bump into each other, you will receive another mean comment from him. His comments cut deeper any knife your father used in you, but reviving them became a routine at this point. You just wish he could give you one chance. You just wish you could make him see that you were trying to adapt to your new life, but he didn't even give a second to think that you are not that bad. He knew you were the threat because of your father. He was going to protect his family, and you knew it held deep importance for him, but it broke your heart that he was protecting his family from you, who wanted to be in that family so bad.

It was better with Dick, much much better, but you swore the hostility others felt towards you was there with him, and you both could clearly feel it. Yet, he didn't seem to notice how this hostility of others made him hesitant to approach you too. Even though your first meeting gave you some hope that you still had a chance to make them see that you were willing to do anything to be close with someone, to have family. But he made clear you'll never be. He only played you a second of this attention before running off to do his stuff. You couldn't blame him, of course, he was busy you get that. But seeing him care about others, seeing him so bright and warm made you feel sick with jealousy, because you wanted what he gave him. But in the same time, you felt immense guilt. Not only for the jealousy, but for the thought he could care for you and for talking his precious time. His little siblings needed his help all because you came and disturbed their life. Dick was too sweet to try to act nice to you at all, because clearly you did not deserve it.

And as for Bruce, he was busy, and when he wasn't, he was awkward around you. Anything you did he analyzed even more than Tim and Alfred combined, he was even more distant than anyone and when he was trying to be nice with you it seemed even more forced than with Dick. Sometimes, you felt like he didn't see you, he saw someone else in you, but again, so did the rest of batfamily. And you knew oh so well who they saw. The joker. But for you it was even more hard, since he was the man who took you in. Why he did that if he didn't like you so much. You saw him being mentor, being dad, but he couldn't be it for you all because for your father. And you saw that he was trying to help, he even got you to psychiatrist, but he failed to realized what you truly needed was warmth, care and true parental figure.

And of course, you knew why exactly everything was so bad with trying to build your life in manor. You were the Joker's kid. You couldn't erase it. It printed in your being. You were the Joker's kid. The kid of the most famous Gotham villain, the kid of the wildfire of Gotham crime itself. And maybe even if for you it was obvious how different from you from how he was, even though even if you hated the man, even if he hurt you too, but it didn't matter. You couldn't change it. And it seemed no matter how hard you trued you couldn't prove you weren't like him.

You didn't choose it. You didn't want a father like that, you didn't want to be his test subject or goon. You didn't want to live in crime alley.  But you had to live the life you so hated, feared and despised.

You were trapped in the shadow of your father, even though you hated it.  But it seemed this shadow was stronger than anything else. This shadow followed you. This shadow poisoned your life and broke your pitiful attempts in trying to rebuild it to pieces. This shadow made you cry. This shadow took all the good things from you. This shadow made you miserable. This shadow broke your hopes and dreams.

This shadow was casted by a single fact.

You were the Joker's kid

That`s why batfamily would never be close with you.

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Thank you for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think about my work! Hope you have a good day

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[ragingbookdragon]

Going Batty

BATDAD One-Shot!

Word Count: 1.3K Warnings: None

Author's Note: For Batdad <3

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He rubbed a hand across his face as he opened the door into the kitchen from the garage, calling out tiredly, “I’m home.” He set his keys on the rack and dropped his bag by the door, pulling his hand away in confusion when no one answered. The lights were out, not a sign of life in sight. “Anybody home?” he asked, walking towards the living room. Usually, a sign of life could be found in the form of two of his sons arguing over who got the TV remote so they could watch their shows.

No one was there either and he frowned before he shrugged, assuming that his husband and children had all gone on patrol. He turned and jumped a foot in the air, eyes widening in surprise when he saw Dick and Damian standing there dressed in suits and holding hand towels over their wrists.

He held a hand to his chest as he exhaled, feeling the adrenaline fading. “Jesus, you two scared the hell out of me.” His eyes scanned them, and his gaze narrowed as he asked suspiciously, “Why are you both in suits? Who died?”

Dick smiled and walked up to him. “Welcome home, dad. We have something special planned for you.”

Damian stood with his head up high. “Father, if you will follow us, please.”

His brows furrowed in confusion, and he glanced at Dick who simply nodded; he shrugged and gestured for them to lead, and he walked behind them into the dining room where the main table had been moved out and a simple 3’ by 3’ sat in its place, an elegant tablecloth covering it. Candles stood next to their fine silverware, never taken out unless it was a family scene, and two crystal glasses stood next to each set of forks and knives.

Bruce stood by the table and Damian walked up and turned, facing his father following behind him. “Father, tonight, you and father dine in honor of your anniversary.”

Anniversary.

Their anniversary.

Their 25-year anniversary.

Crap.

It’d been so long since they’d celebrated an actual anniversary and not a staged one for the media that he’d completely forgotten about it. By Bruce’s subtle smile, he knew it too, but simply walked up and held out his hand.

He took it and Bruce asked, “Will you join me for dinner?”

“You didn’t cook, did you?” he teased softly with a smile and Bruce chuckled.

“Actually, Jason took leisure of cooking duties tonight.” He led his husband to the table and pulled out his chair before sitting in his own.

Dick poured some wine into their glasses. “Here we have a Label of Leroy Musigny Grand Cru, from Cote de Nuits, France. A savory and classic red.”

The two men swirled their wines in their glasses, and he inhaled the fragrance before trying a sip; he nodded impressed and looked at Dick. “Thank you, son.”

Dick smiled as Jason walked in, and he couldn’t suppress the laugh that left him as he saw his second son in a chef’s outfit complete with a chef’s hat. Jason held a tray in his hand and began placing their dishes down.

“No appetizers because appetizers are lame, and you won’t have room for dessert, and I worked too hard on it to not have it eaten tonight.” He set the plates down. “I’ve prepared duck confit to go with the red wine, along with roasted vegetables consisting of corn, asparagus, and potatoes, as well as white rice.”

He nodded, again impressed at the sight and planning. “It looks delicious, son.”

Jason puffed his chest out. “It is delicious. I made it.”

“Thank you,” he said with a gentle smile, then looked around. “Where’s Tim?”

“I’m over here!” Tim popped his head up from the corner of the room. “I’m finishing up the sound system.” As soon as he finished, soft, instrumental music began playing and the four boys stood together and took a quick bow.

Jason set a small bell on the table beside Bruce. “Ring when you guys are ready for dessert.”

They scurried out and he smiled, looking at Bruce. “You didn’t have to do all of this, Bruce.”

“I wanted to do something special for you,” he answered, reaching across the table to take his husband’s hand, thumb brushing over his knuckles and the golden band. “You’ve taken care of me for so many years, put up with so much nonsense, all our kids. Any lesser man would’ve run for the hills…or ended up in Arkham.”

He snorted and turned his hand up, holding Bruce’s. “From going batty?”

“I was thinking clinically insane, but batty works too.” Bruce pulled his hand away and lifted his glass of wine. “To us. Twenty-five years and counting.”

He lightly tapped his glass to Bruce’s. “To us, and hopeful for many more years to come.”

As they began to eat, they drifted into conversation about their life together, how it came to be, meeting, marrying, taking in Dick as a ward, and everything that followed after. Laughter and a few tears were shed but a general feeling of love settled around them as they kept talking about their life. When Jason dropped off dessert, a fresh peach cobbler with homemade vanilla bean ice-cream, the two were tipsy and smiling easily. With dessert eaten, they managed to get to their feet and come around the table, taking each other in their arms as they swayed to the soft piano coming from the speakers.

He rested his temple against Bruce’s shoulder, feeling the man wrap his arms around him securely. “Bruce?”

“Hmm?” his husband hummed, eyes closed as he rested his chin against the man’s temple.

“Do you think it’s possible to fall in love again?”

“I don’t have to think. I know. I fall in love with you every morning I wake up next to you.” Bruce squeezed him. “Every night I close my eyes knowing you’re next to me.”

He breathed deeply, sinking deeper into his husband’s arms. “You sure know how to make a man feel special, Bruce Wayne.”

“Only man that matters,” he replied, kissing his husband’s forehead. “Only one that ever will.”

“Happy Anniversary, Mister Wayne.”

“And a Happy Anniversary to you, Mister Wayne,” Bruce said, leaning down to kiss his husband when,

“Psst! Dad!” The two pulled back and looked up, seeing Tim standing in the doorway. “Dad!”

“Which dad?” he asked. “We’re both dad.”

Tim rolled his eyes and scoffed. “You dad, not him dad.”

“That technically doesn’t clarify which dad you’re referring to,” Bruce replied.

“Batdad.”

“Still both dads,” he said with a wince, then he pointed to himself. “Me dad?”

“YES! YOU DAD!” Tim cried in exasperation.

“What, son?” he laughed.

“Can we watch the Saw series?”

“No.”

“But why?” Tim whined.

“Because one of you is going to get wigged out and end up sleeping in our bed.”

“We see worse on patrol,” Jason said, sticking his head atop Tim’s, then he lifted his hand. “I’ve technically done worse.”

Dick stuck his head around Jason’s arm. “He has. I’ve seen it.”

“Can’t you guys watch a Disney movie or something?” he said with a sigh.

“Pleeeeeeeeeeeease?” Tim begged, clasping his hands in front of him. “None of us will get scared, promise.”

He looked at Bruce who simply shrugged and he sighed. “Fine. But no one better not show up at midnight.”

***

The door cracked open, and he lifted his head, blinking blearily at the thirteen- and eighteen-year-olds standing in his doorway.

“Father…” Damian started, and he sighed exasperated.

“Come on,” he said, opening the covers.

The two crawled in, Damian on Bruce’s side, Tim on his, and he laid back down, closing his eyes.

“I told you boys not to watch Saw.”

A few moments later, the door opened again; Dick and Jason stood there with their pillows in hand.

“Dad…”