#batsis!reader

[invincibledc]

Imagine the baby al ghul-Wayne twins, Y/N & Damian, these two are babbling their mouths off to each other. Bruce is just watching with an intense face, he’s trying to understand baby body language as he soon sees the brown skinned boy slap you. Your eyes widen before you start to cry. You definitely said something offensive to him in baby language. As Bruce sighs and goes to pick you up and punish Damian, Damian himself picks your hand up and makes you slap him.

Now he’s crying. Bruce just sweatdrops at this. what in the world just happened? Two baby twins crying as Damian just fails his arms around as you sit perfectly still.

Time skip, to the twins being 10. You and Damian are arguing as Bruce sighs at his kids. You hit his shoulder and he hits yours. You stay quiet as your face puff up, Damian puffs his face up as well, mimicking you. Before you can get more angry, Damian hugs you and says sorry. It’s different than what it was when you both were babies.

Bruce could only look in confusion, the twins are confusing.

[shallyouobeyme]

From the Outside - Call from the past

Part 1 | Part 2 (You're here) | Part 3 (TBA)

Platonic!Yandere Batfam x Neglected Batsibling!Reader (GN)

Summary: As you continue just trying to live day by day as a stranger in the house you were supposed to call home, a presence from the past makes itself known. One that could change everything...or nothing...

TW: Child abandonment, neglect, talk about blackmailing / ultimatums, still not a lot of Yandere-ness, but it's coming I promise.

“This picture, how do you know my mom?”

The man looked at the picture with a sad smile that you knew all too well from yourself whenever you saw a picture of your mother.

“You know, you look so much like her, it’s almost shocking. I had hoped you’d look at least a little bit like me, though I suppose it was for the better that you don’t,” the man stated, confirming what you had expected. This man was claiming to be your father. It was an open secret in Gotham that you didn’t have a biological father, your mother hadn’t talked about him when he was alive, neither in public, nor in private, and your grandparents had done their best to fuel the flame of rumours that claimed he had been a rich foreigner who had left before knowing of your existence or that your father was a common man who died in one of the many crimes in Gotham during the pregnancy. You didn’t know if any of these rumours were true and once you were old enough to realize how much it hurt your mother, you stopped asking her about who your dad was. You suspected he had left her when he had heard of the pregnancy or that she had found out that he was only interested in her money and inheritance. She had tried to tell you about him just once, a few days before she had passed, but she had been in so much pain physically that you didn’t want her to suffer mentally as well. So you told her that it was okay, that you didn’t care, that she didn’t need to tell you. 

After she died, over the years, a few men came towards either Bruce or you, claiming that they were your father, but neither Bruce nor you were inclined to believe them. If they approached Wayne Ent. then usually you wouldn’t even find out about them and if they approached you, you figured out how to mostly avoid it. By now you had a long list of blocked contacts and a list of people that you’d go the complete opposite way if you saw them. Still, the very rare instance that the men came to you with proof you figured that you could spare a second to listen to them, though you weren’t naive enough to put too much value in their claims. 

The picture was more than people usually brought forward, but it didn’t prove anything. You figured that many people had taken pictures of (or with) your mom from when she was younger. 

“I don’t expect you to just believe me just based on this, but I hope you’ll find that listening to me will help you understand.”

“Sure, I’ll listen, but that’s all I can offer,” you leaned back and looked at him expectantly, after all what did you have to lose. Time, obviously, but other than that nothing. So you’d listen to this man state his case, let him spin his tales for a while, and then you’d go back to your life and add another name to your no-contact list. The man nodded gratefully, before starting his story.

“I met your mother when we were both still in school, I fell for her the second she walked into the room. Back then it was just a silly school-boy crush, but… she was so kind, so loving to everyone. She didn’t care that I didn’t come from a rich family like everyone else, that I was a scholarship kid. She treated me like she did everyone else and we became friends and…over time we grew closer. No romance yet, after all I was always overshadowed by her best friend. Bruce was as impressive and imposing back then as he is now-” you had to suppress a scoff at that, not wanting to interrupt him, but his tone didn’t sound so favorable towards your adoptive father either, “-so obviously everyone thought that the two of them would end up together. I knew I had nothing on Bruce so I pulled back and me and your mother grew apart. I still had feelings for her, but what could a guy like me offer her compared to Gotham’s favorite starchild? 

“Then Bruce disappeared off the map and I left school to pursue other opportunities. I imagined that it would be the last of it, but a few years later, I met your mother again. She was just sitting in one of these little cafes that she always loved so much, her face was so…sad as she was staring out the window with this longing gaze. She looked so distraught, so lonely. I didn’t even plan to talk to her, I figured by then she would have forgotten me, but she saw me, she recognized me and she even invited me to sit with her. From then on we reconnected and a while later we… were dating. I was happy and she was too, but when we told her parents, they weren’t quite as stoked. Turns out that billionaires don’t like it when their only child dates a scholarship-kid from a low income family. 

“We didn’t care though, we were happy and your mom never really did care about what others thought, but then… well, I don’t think I have to explain how, but you came along…” he trailed off. Until then his story was strangely sound, though obviously you wouldn't just give him the benefit of the doubt because of something he could have made up in his shower, but by now you were curious as to where he would be going with this tale. You wanted to see what reason he’d thought of that would justify leaving your mother on her own, during her pregnancy. Leaving a woman he supposedly loved while she was pregnant with his child only to come back years later.

“Then what? I came along, you left and now you’re back. Why? Did the guilt start setting in with a few years delay?”

Either this man was an excellent actor or he was genuinely feeling ashamed, the embarrassment visible on his face, in his eyes. He continued: “I don’t know how I justified this back then, and I still can’t justify it now, but I found myself faced with a difficult decision. I loved your mother so, so much, more than I did my own life. I was more than willing to raise this baby with her, to marry her and live life as just our little family, but… I couldn’t force her to lose everything she knew, lose her way of living, her lifestyle. But her parents, your grandparents, they made it very clear that they’d give me an ultimatum,” he shook his head, the shame now being joined by anger.

“They gave me a choice. Either I could stay with your mother, raise you, live as a family, or I’d leave the picture, leave your mother and you. Obviously I didn’t even consider the second option, but then they added the consequences to each. If I stayed, your mother would be disinherited, she’d lose her parents and her home, just to be left with me and my small, cold apartment. They promised that you’d have the best possible life you could have, as long as it was without me, that you’d be better taken care off with them, then I could have ever. I know that it wasn’t my choice to make, that I should have talked to your mother, let her have a choice as well, but her parents made it clear that if I didn’t choose then and there, I would be making my choice by proxy. So I left and I have regretted it ever since.”

“But Mom wouldn’t have cared! She would have been happy in the small, cold apartment if she really loved you-” Is what you want to say, what you want to shout and scream and cry. But you don’t. Instead, you say: “Then why didn’t you come back? Grandma and Grandpa died and… and so did mom, you could have come back then.” You didn’t want to give him any inkling that you were believing him, but his story was so well designed that you couldn’t help it. Even if this wasn’t your father, you had wanted to ask these questions for years now, wanted closure and explanations, so you couldn’t hold it back anymore. 

“Because I believed you were better off without me, after all you were given to the Wayne’s, how could I ever compare with that? Sure, you might share half of my genetic info, but that was it, right? Just because I’m biologically your father, it didn’t mean that I would be cut out to be your dad. So I held back, I collected the magazine pictures of you throughout the years and I tried to keep track of your life from afar. I was at your fifth grade play and I was at your soccer game in fifth grade where you fell and hurt your knee, but insisted to go on playing, and I was at the funeral and I saw you crying and all I wanted to do was take you into my arms and promise to be there for you, but there was Bruce doing that very thing and you looked so much safer in his arms then you could have in mine.”

In most, probably all other, cases, you’d immediately plan out the restraining order towards the guy that just confessed that he had been basically stalking you for years at this point, sounded like he’d been at more events of your life than any of the Waynes had been. Combined. But something about all of this had you reconsidering that. Something in his face that made you want to believe him. That’s when you finally saw the similarity. This man, sitting opposite you at this desk, with his soft features and the dark undereyes and the tussled hair, was the boy in the picture in the trophy showcase at school. The one with his arm around your mother, smiling just like he did on the polaroid. It didn’t necessarily prove more than the picture in front of you did, but it did make the story a lot more believable. So you decided to play along further.

“Then why now? What changed?” 

“The look in your eyes, I’ve seen it for a while now. The same exact look your mother had back in that cafe, she told me later that back then she was the saddest she had ever been, more lonely then she ever thought possible. There was no sparkle behind her eyes and there was none behind yours. So I started to look and I realized that during all your events, there is no Wayne around, that you’re never seen around them. And I realized that… there is a chance that maybe I was lying to myself to make me feel better about having left. That… maybe, you’re not that much better off with Bruce than you would have been with me.”

The fact that this man had been able to see through you like you were made of glass, see what you were so desperately trying to hide, without even making an effort somehow warmed a part of you, just as much as it scared you. 

“Is it so obvious?” you chuckled and looked down at the desk trying to process all of this new information.

“To me it is, it certainly helps that you have almost the exact mannerism that she had,” he smiled and for a second it looked like he wanted to take one of your hands. And confusingly enough you found yourself wanting him to, the first sign of attempted comfort making you crave for it instantly. But was it enough to believe his story?

“I’m not sure if I-” you started making your verdict, but he cut you off.

“I actually have one more piece of proof. I figured I’d leave this to the end in case you still have doubts, because I figured- well, I figured it would make my case far better than I could.”

He pulled out a stack of letters, stringed together in a small packet by a frayed red cord. There must have been dozens, all of them opened and read, often - given their state. “What’s this?” you ask carefully, eyeing the yellowed paper of the envelopes. You catch sight of a swoopy script on the topmost envelope. The letter was addressed to Lucas, but that wasn’t the part that made your eyes widen and your fist clenched. You knew that writing, had read all the words written in this script that you owned again and again and again. It was the very familiar writing of your mother. The beautiful, fluent letters were thanks to grueling calligraphy classes that your grandparents had made her take all throughout her childhood. You’d been spared from the same treatment thanks to your mother’s insistence that in the age of the internet and Computers, a neat script wasn’t that important. 

“She never stopped writing to me, even when she was sick. I couldn’t read them at first, I was afraid that the letters were filled with everything I was fearing. Her hatred and disgust with me. But then she passed and I knew I owed it to her, myself and you to read them. And…well, I think it's best if you read over them yourself,” he said, holding them out to you. 

It’s only thanks to years of suppressing your emotions in front of others that you can keep your hands from shaking as you take the letters and undo the string holding all of them together. You go through them superficially first, just checking the envelopes. Some indeed looked to be years old, while others were newer, though obviously still weathered. You noticed that each envelope had a number written in one of the corners, ranging from 1 to 20, written in a much more crude font. The man claiming to be your father noticed your interest in them and quickly explained: “I noted them chronologically, two per year until she passed.”

You gave him a nod of acknowledgement before going to the letter numbered with 1. Pulling the papers out, you found them dated. The day after your birth. 

Carefully you unfold the papers and start reading. 

‘Dearest Lucas,

I didn’t think I could write to you, have started this letter surely a hundred times during the pregnancy, but now…it’s much easier than I ever thought possible. I look into our little one’s face and I can’t feel it in myself to hate you, as much as I want to. Leaving was the worst decision you’ve ever made, not because of how you’ve hurt me, how you’ve broken my heart, but because you weren’t here to see their little smile, their eyes blinking open for the first time. But I was, I saw it all and that is worth much more than any pain could ever hurt me. Even without you, seeing this little thing makes me sure that I could never regret our relationship.’ 

You can’t keep reading through the tears that welled up in your eyes. These few words were enough to break down the carefully built walls in your heart. The way this letter was written, the words, the sentences…it was your mother who wrote them, you knew for sure. Still, you couldn’t just take this for granted, couldn’t accept this entire thing as fact just yet. 

“You’re Lucas? You didn’t just…steal these letters from someone?” you ask, but your voice was pitiful and made it clear that this was your very last attempt at resilience. With no words, the man pulled out his wallet and put his ID onto the table in front of you. You looked at it just for a second. The picture matched and the name read ‘Lucas Porter’. It wasn’t like you were an expert for forged identification documents, but this one looked legit, no obvious flaws, which was enough for you to accept this as fact. 

This man…was your father. All those questions you’ve had throughout your life were now answered and you felt…empty, somehow. It wasn’t a satisfying moment of having long wanted information given to you, it was just…there. This information. You blinked the tears away and you felt like a little kid again, unsure of what to say or how to act for the first time in years. 

“I-I think I need some time…to think about this…about what you said,” you mumble as you start folding the papers of the letter you read together again. You stop when a hand softly touches yours, hesitantly as if unsure if reaching out was okay yet. 

“Keep them, please. I’ve read them so often that I can probably recite them by heart. I think you should read them, maybe it’ll make you feel closer to your mother.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. And…take all the time that you need, but if you do decide to give me a choice, a choice for me to get to know you and for you to get to know me, then please call me,” he said, holding out a card with his personal and business number. You take it, along with the letters, and somehow…you know that you’ll be calling him. You’ve finally been given an inch of familiar affection and you didn’t know if you could just let go of it. 

Taglist - if you'd like to be added, please comment or respond to the linked post: @heaven4lostgirls, @sol565, @dreamsarenicer, @sydneyyyya, @cantfindmelol, @vanessa-boo, @zephyre-fantasmic, @otakusef, @yandere-enthusiast, @chericeah, @deathbynarcisstick, @depressed-but-make-it-cute, @spuder-man, @sirenetheblogger, @andrasia, @unknownloner1345, @tonightwrites, @azure-drag0ness, @popursocks

[lillilybells]

May I request platonic batfamily x batsis!child!reader (maybe reader is like 4-5 yrs old) one day jason read her a fairytale book and explain her what having a crush on someone feel like. many days later reader told her brothers she's having a crush on someone. the batfam are going crazy tryna find who's her crush. (fortunate for them) turns out reader’s crush is a cartoon character she watch on tv.

Puppy crush✧₊⁺

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

pairing|batfamily x toddler!reader

summary|Jason’s not great at explanations..

word count|1214

warnings|this was made by a very sleep deprived human.

notes|not my best work but this request was so cute!!

masterlist

It was one of those rare days when Jason Todd actually decided to grace the manor with his presence. Nostalgia had struck like a semi-truck, and he figured a visit wouldn’t kill him—as long as Bruce didn’t try to lecture him and Alfred made those double chocolate cherry cookies he liked.

He made it explicitly clear that he was here for two things only: Alfred’s cooking and you—his favorite (and youngest) sibling. Everyone else could take a number.

You’d been clinging to him since the second he stepped foot inside.

Jason, in his leather jacket and boots, looked wildly out of place being tugged through the manor by a toddler in mismatched socks and a pink dress. You showed him every single crayon drawing taped to the wall in the kitchen, explaining each one like a gallery tour.

“This one’s me and Titus. I gave him a cape so he can fly.”

“Kid, if Titus could fly, Gotham would be a crater.”

“And this one’s you!” you pointed proudly at a red scribble with horns.

Jason mock gasped. “Why do I look like the devil?”

“Because I was mad at you last week,” you said sweetly. “You said you’d come and you didn’t.”

Jason clutched his heart.

After that, you insisted on baking cookies with him. Jason did most of the work while you sneakily ate half the chocolate chips and used flour like it was fairy dust. Alfred eventually stepped in before things got nuclear.

Finally, you and Jason collapsed onto the living room couch, the results of your baking sitting on a plate between you. The cookies were... technically edible. The TV played old Looney Tunes reruns as you cuddled up to Jason’s side, one thumb in your mouth, the other gripping his sleeve like a lifeline.

Bruce entered a few minutes later, arms crossed. “Alright. Enough cartoons. It’s bedtime.”

“Nooo!” you protested dramatically, hiding behind Jason’s arm. “I wanna stay with Jay Jay…”

Jason raised his brows at Bruce smugly. “See? Kid’s got good taste.”

“‘Jay Jay’ has to go home,” Bruce said pointedly. “Say goodnight.”

Jason shifted. “I can put the gremlin to bed. Don’t get your cape in a twist.”

Bruce exhaled heavily, then turned with a muttered, “Good luck with that…”

Upstairs, Jason managed to wrestle you into pajamas and tuck you into your pastel pink bed without much resistance. But as he made a break for the door—

“Wait! Where you goin’?” you frowned, grabbing his hand.

Jason blinked. “Uh… to go brood dramatically in the hallway?”

“Nooo,” you pouted. “Daddy tells me a story before bed.”

Jason squinted. “Bruce? Bruce Wayne? Tells you stories?”

You nodded enthusiastically. “From his ‘magination! Sometimes they’re about you!”

Jason tilted his head, stunned. “Okay, now I know you’re messing with me. Bruce doesn’t even tell me the Wi-Fi password.”

He sighed and dropped into the armchair beside your bed. “Alright, alright. A story. Let’s do this.”

You sat up excitedly, pulling the blanket to your chin.

“Okay, uh… once upon a time, there was a princess named… Snow White. She had a mean stepmom. Real piece of work. Kinda Cinderella vibes—”

“Who’s Cinderella?”

Jason blinked. “You don’t know Cinderella? What is Bruce teaching you?!”

“Taxes,” you said seriously.

Jason wheezed.

“Anyway,” he continued, regaining composure, “Snow White had to clean and do chores, which sucked. But she had animal friends and liked to sing and stuff. And one day, a prince walked by and heard her sing—and he got a crush on her.”

You tilted your head. “What’s a crush?”

Jason froze. “Oh. Uh…”

He leaned forward. “Okay, so a crush is when you like someone a lot. Like, you think they’re really cool and funny and cute. And they give you, like, butterflies in your stomach.”

“Like the zoo?”

“Sorta. But inside you.” He poked your tummy gently and you giggled.

“Did the prince get butterflies?”

“Yeah. Big ones. Like mutant butterflies.”

You giggled more, eyes starting to droop.

“And then they rode off into the sunset while the dwarfs cheered,” Jason finished, quietly. “The end.”

You yawned. “That was a good one, Jay Jay…”

“Goodnight, short stack.” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before tiptoeing out.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Two days later…

It was a normal afternoon at Wayne Manor. Damian sat on the couch reading case files, sipping strong coffee, the picture of grim concentration.

You were on the floor with your crayons, singing to yourself and scribbling away.

Without a word, you waddled up to Damian, holding up your newest drawing.

He looked up. A tall stick figure with a cape, messy black hair, and a big pink heart next to its head.

“…Who is this?” he asked slowly.

You leaned in, voice conspiratorial. “Can I tell you a secret?”

He raised a brow. “Go ahead.”

“Pinky promise you won’t tell!” you held up your pinky with authority.

He sighed and linked his pinky with yours. “Fine. I swear.”

You grinned. “It’s my crush!”

Damian stared. “Your what?”

But you were already running off, giggling with the drawing hugged to your chest.

He blinked. “What the hell…?”

The thought haunted him all day. Who was your crush? Did he know them? Were they a threat? He needed to know.

Later that night, the Batfam returned to the cave after a long mission. When they wandered into the manor you greeted them all with a cheerful wave, still coloring.

Damian lingered in the shadows, arms crossed, staring at you like a secret agent trying to crack a code.

“Why are you looking at her like that?” Tim asked.

“She said she has a crush,” Damian answered darkly.

The room fell silent.

“...What?” Jason blinked.

“I was shown a drawing,” Damian continued. “Tall figure. Cape. Hair. Hearts.”

“Oh no,” Jason groaned. “Not already.”

“Do we know the guy?” Dick asked cautiously.

“No,” Damian hissed. “She ran off.”

“We need to find out,” Duke added, already concerned.

“Absolutely not telling Bruce,” Jason declared. “We don’t need him to realize she’ll grow up.

At that moment, you waddled in again, holding up a new drawing. “Look! It’s my crush!”

Jason crouched down slowly. “Alright, sweetheart. Who is that?”

You beamed. “Batman!”

Silence.

“…Seriously?” Damian blinked.

“He’s so cool! He punches bad guys and never smiles and has a cape and everything!” you explained proudly.

Jason fell back onto the floor with relief. “Thank god.”

Dick was laughing. Tim was trying not to. Damian turned away and muttered something under his breath.

“Don’t tell him, though!” you begged. “It’s a secret crush.”

“Too late,” Bruce’s voice cut through the air as he effortlessly lifted you into his arms. “I’m telling him everything.”

“Daddy, nooo!” you squealed, giggling as he tickled your side.

The others watched in exhausted silence.

“Who taught her what a crush even is?” Tim asked.

Jason coughed. “Okay, to be fair, I was trying to tell her a bedtime story, not teach her about emotions.”

“Next time, be more specific, Todd,” Damian muttered.

“Or just… maybe don’t,” Dick added, patting Jason’s back. “I don’t need this scare again for another decade..”

You? You just sat in Bruce’s arms, happily drawing a new picture of Batman with a crown and hearts around his head.

[echo-exco]

—Hi Enigma, how are you feeling? I have some questions about Masashi.

1. Could I know the Doctor's age range?

2. I'm mildly interested in drawing things about the story, so I wanted to know if you have any face claims for Masashi (I'd also be interested in knowing the same about Charlotte). If not, never mind. I'll just let my imagination run wild.

—This is a question about the reader.

I know it says his age is similar to Damian's, but I don't know which version you follow. I think the one in the current comics was 16. So is it correct if I assume the reader is 15 or around that age?

A table of ages for the Batfam wouldn't hurt hahaha

Xoxo

Aww, thank you for asking. Honestly, I’ve been busy with some personal matters, but I hope to finish everything without any issues and come back actively (at least on this account) :)

As for your questions:

I imagine Masashi as someone around 36–40 years old. I can see him being that age, nothing too specific, really (the minimum I’d give him is around 29, and the maximum would be 40). Since it’s mentioned that Masashi is clearly a fully grown adult. I have to admit I didn’t think that part through very well.

When it comes to Masashi and Charlotte’s appearances, feel free to picture Masashi however you like! Especially Charlotte, since she’s literally the embodiment of Masashi’s desires, making her incapable of having a fixed appearance due to Masashi himself.

Of course, both Masashi and Charlotte are inspired by Mori and Elise (from Bungou Stray Dogs), so if you prefer to imagine them that way, that’s totally valid too. Their physical appearance won’t affect the plot (or will it?), at least not based on how readers choose to picture them.

Now, about healer!reader’s age… I should’ve specified the ages of all the characters in general, my bad 😔

To sum it up, I imagine both Damian and healer!reader being close in age (with Damian being just two years older than her). Healer!reader is 11 years old, and Damian is 13.

I don’t have a defined age for every character yet. I’m still working on organizing them (beyond the obvious divide between adults and non-adults).

(I’ll try to include something in the next chapter that mentions the age range of the characters— I don’t want to confuse my readers.)

But above all else— drawings??? I’m seriously so happy to hear that!! 🥺❤️ I don’t want to sound annoying, but it really makes me happy to know that my story could inspire readers to do something like that (it genuinely feels really nice, to be honest).

I hope I cleared up all your questions! If I missed anything, feel free to ask! I love answering the questions my readers have <3

[dizziedupthewriter]

look after you

kyle rayner x batsis!reader, batfam x bat!sis

summary: lantern duty comes to a halt when kyle gets called to gotham to help save you, his girlfriend.

warnings: violence, blood, wound describing, language. its mad angst. scarecrow. bruce and kyle lowk butt heads.

a/n: this fic is just about 5k words! enjoy the ride cuz i LOOVED it. also yay first kyle fic. i love my lantern bae <3

Patrol was only supposed to take 4 hours. Prance around Gotham like any other night, fight a couple goons, save a cat from a tree. Simple. Your type of crime fighting. Now it's 8 hours later and you’re now tied to a beam, beaten and disoriented. Your weapons and all Wayne-tech smashed to bits with little to no chance of recovering or even locating.

You started to stir at the scent of some ungodly toxin. Your eyes scan the area revealing the dark and humid warehouse holding you captive. 

“Crane.” You mutter, realizing that Scarecrow is your captor. The last thing you remember was monitoring the alley near the bagel shop, then smelling what you thought was copious amounts of molded pastries before passing out. You whip your head around to see any proof of him and scream out his name. 

You get no response. Your body slumps against the pole. You feel a presence sneak up behind you. 

“Miss Wayne, it is a pleasure to have you visiting tonight” 

You spit in his face and attempt to kick him, he counters by angrily placing a contaminated oxygen mask up to your face. His newest form of fear toxin enters your system once more and your heart races.

“Miss Wayne, you truly should have known better than to do that. Where has your civility gone?” You could feel the venom in his voice.

He walks away, leaving you in the shadows once more. Anxiety creeps through your brain. 

~

Meanwhile, back in the Batcave, Bruce and Dick scatter across all of the computers. 

“Where was her last location on the comm?” Bruce asks with uncertainty.

“Says at O’Neills Bagel’s. But that makes no sense, she couldn't have just disappeared from there. What did Tim say?” Dick huffs out equally worried. 

“He said the scans found nothing, nor did he himself. The tech never fails. What are we missing here?” 

“I don’t know, if we can’t find her, who the hell can? It’s not like she just up and left, she wouldn’t have done that without telling anyone for a good reason”

They both sit in silence for a moment. Bruce clicks some more on the computer in hopes of a new development, something, anything. He calls Oracle to check in with her scans.

~ 

You anxiously look around you, feeling like there is a hoard of people watching you. You look down at your hands and are stunned, the previous cuts you had earlier now worse, much worse. The bone of your hand peers out and drips blood onto the floor. A gasp escapes your lips. You look away. In reality, your hand is completely fine, aside from a little bruise. But you don’t know that. Crane’s toxins are messing with every bit of you.

“Y/N?” 

The sound of Kyle’s voice forces you to look back over. He reaches for your hand and pulls it up to his face, giving it a kiss. You see that the wound you once had has now vanished. You look up at the green mask in front of you.

“Ky?” You smile with relief. You believe that he has come to save you, help you get out of Scarecrow’s grasp. Yet again, your brain fools you. Kyle chuckles in disbelief. 

“Did you think I came here for you?”

You look at him with a questionable gaze. Unsure of what he is getting at. Your eyes peer over at his power ring which is now under his influence, in the middle of constructing something. In front of you is a bright green mirror. The second you glance into it, it cracks. Your head snaps back to Kyle. 

“Ky, what are you doing? Untie me, please!” You beg. He laughs once more. 

“Look at you, you truly think I’m your saviour? Just because “I love you?” You're such a dreamer, you believe that love can save you from fear?” He mocks. He gestures over to the mirror still in front of you, He looks at it as well, seeing your terrified expression. With a snap of his fingers, the mirror completely shatters into pieces, staying afloat in the air. He takes a step back. 

“Kyle, please,” You say in a near whisper, your skin crawling at his sinister expression. He mocks you once more before speaking up. 

“Haven’t you learned? Love can’t save you, it won't save you. Certainly not from this.” He takes a step back from you and the green construct vanishes.

“Please, Kyle. I love you! Help me!” You scream out. In a flash he is now knelt before you, a “J” carved into the side of his face. For a split second, you thought you were reliving the horror that was your brother Jason's death, but this was worse. It was Kyle. In Jason’s former place was Kyle, behind him the Joker, holding a bloodied crowbar. You screamed out and Kyle smirked up at you. You squeeze your eyes shut as the crowbar swung out of the Joker’s hands, you braced but nothing ever came for you. You open your eyes again and Kyle is gone. Your heart feels as if it is going to jump out of our chest. You have no idea what is happening, you’re petrified. 

~

Tim had come back from the bagel shop to meet up with Bruce and Dick. Barbra is currently displayed on the computer screen, a video chat. 

“I’ve searched through every possible GCPD camera, Bruce. I can’t see anything. This is crazy, who would even do this? Have there been any recent Arkham breakouts?”

“Not that I am aware of” He grunts out. He holds a hand up to his temple. Tim speaks up.

“Could we hold a JL meeting? I’m sure someone could do something, anyone really. Clark might-”

Bruce cuts him off. “No.”

“C’mon, it's worth a shot.” 

“I’m not holding a meeting. This is an us matter. They do not need to be involved.”

All of his sons sigh in near unison, they aren't surprised that Bruce would act this way. He likes things done his way. Not one for a team up per usual, even if it comes to the disappearance of his own daughter. 

“I’m calling the GL at least. Kyle deserves to know” Dick declares. He disagrees with Bruce, he believes that any help is good. Especially if it’s from your boyfriend. He walks away from everyone else and picks up his phone. He calls Kyle.

~

Driving through space in his constructed glowing green Chevy Impala, he chats with Guy. 

“Dude you constructed a hammer when you needed a screw driver. Who the hell let you speak the oath?” Kyle chuckles.

“Laugh it up, Rayner. It did the job anyways, I-” Guy is cut off by a ringing. He speaks up again. 

“You carry your phone in your suit? You don’t even have pockets?” 

Kyle rolls his eyes and picks up. “Hello?”

“Kyle, hey” There is hesitancy in Dick’s voice.

“Dick? Hey man. You alright?”

“It’s Y/N.”

The green vehicle comes to a halt. The coffee Guy was sipping spills all over him.

"What? What’s wrong?”

“We don’t know. She was on patrol then completely vanished, I take it she's not with you?”

“No, not at all. Didn't even call me. Are you sure she’s not just home?” Kyle’s knuckles whiten around the steering wheel. 

“It’s been 8 hours, we have no idea where she is. No cameras caught her, all of her tech we guess got demolished. She was last seen in a dead zone of ours, go figure. We’re sure she's gone.” They both are silent for a moment, nothing is heard other than static between the lines. Kyle swallows.

“That’s impossible.”

“I know,” Dick says. “We checked. We’re still checking. But if she’s not with you…”

“She's not.” His jaw tightens. 

“What the hell is goin’ on?” Guy eavesdrops and places a hand on Kyle’s shoulder. “Rayner,” he says quietly. Kyle ignores him and continues to talk to Dick. 

“I’m coming back,” Kyle says. “I’ll be in Gotham in five. Maybe less.”

“Okay, I told Bruce you deserve to be here for this, but just so you know. He’s not too happy about it.”

Kyle shakes his head. “Figures, I’ll be there soon.” He hangs up the phone and glances over at Guy. 

“Tell Hal I’ll brief the Corps later. Right now I’ve got something more important.”

Guy raises an eyebrow but nods, “Kick some ass, Rayner. Good luck dealin’ with all your crazy bat in-laws”

Kyle doesn’t answer. He's already gone, streaking through space like a green comet.

~

Now at the Batcave, the air shifts. There’s a faint hum, and then a blinding green light pulses into the center of the cave. Dick barely turns before Kyle storms in like a bullet, the light fading into the angular armor of his uniform.

He doesn’t even glance at Bruce, who stands silently behind the monitors.

“Kyle,” Dick greets, stepping forward quickly. “That was fast.”

Kyle nods. “Where’s the last location?”

Tim gestures to the holographic map, flipping through panels. “Right here, every camera glitched out for a three-minute window, just after she went silent. It’s looks purposeful”

Kyle’s fists clench. “What about her comms?”

“Crushed,” Tim says. “We picked up what was left of it, looks like someone stomped on it”

“So then what’s the theory?” Kyle asks. “Who’s behind it?”

“Unknown,” Tim says. “But we have this.”

He throws up a paused frame from a corrupted GCPD feed. A distorted figure in the distance—tattered coat, gas mask, silhouette barely visible through the smoke.

Kyle’s eyes narrow. “That’s Crane.”

Barbra’s voice filters through the comm. “I cross-referenced it with his old fear gas dispersal models. That location has every classic signature of Scarecrow”

The lantern ring on his finger pulses, responding to his sudden spike of fear and rage. The tension in the room rises as he turns toward Bruce. “You should’ve called me the second she was missing.”

Bruce finally stands, slowly facing Kyle. “We had to confirm it wasn’t a miscommunication first.”

“She’s been gone eight hours! Are you kidding me? Miscommunication? She could be dead for all we know! Or worse, hooked up on a fear toxin that’s making her feel like she's dying!”

“She’s not just your responsibility,” Bruce says flatly. “She’s mine, too.”

The words hit like stone.

Kyle steps forward, chest rising and falling with barely restrained emotion. “Then fucking act like it.”

For a moment, no one speaks. The cave feels colder, tension still at an all time high. Barbra’s voice comes through the monitor, still on the call.

 “I hate to break up the standoff, but I don’t think she’s dead. If she was, Crane would’ve made sure we knew. He’s theatrical. This feels... personal.”

Kyle looks up at the screen again, at the blurry image of the gas-masked silhouette.

“If he’s using fear gas... then he’s already in her head.”

“And that’s what he wants,” Dick adds. “She’s isolated. No backup. Nothing grounding her to reality.”

Tim clicks to another onto another screen that displays a city layout, showing underground networks. 

“There are old sewer systems down here. Abandoned tunnels from Arkham’s first expansion. Crane could be using them. It’s a perfect place to set up one of his twisted fear drug labs. She's gotta be down there somewhere.”

Kyle stares blankly at the map as Barbra speaks up again, a slight crackle in her words over the video call.

“But whatever happened, it was fast. No sign of struggle, which means she either froze... or he got into her head before she could react.”

Kyle’s jaw tenses once more, Bruce sighs out in reaction. Both of them look up at the map trying to figure out the route in. 

“She didn’t freeze,” he mutters, almost to himself. “She doesn’t freeze.”

Dick hears it. “No. She doesn’t. Which means Crane had her before she even realized it.”

Kyle takes a shaky breath and flexes his hand, the glow of his ring intensifying. “How deep do the tunnels go?” he asks.

“Very,” Tim answers. “Some haven’t been mapped in years. Old Arkham foundation blueprints are incomplete. We’re trying to get other scans now, but they’re distorted.”

Barbra leans forward on her monitor feed. “Kyle, listen. If she’s been exposed this long, she’s not just hallucinating. She’s trapped in a recursive fear state. It’s not just illusions anymore—it’s memory, it’s guilt, it’s grief. It becomes real to her.”

“Then I go in.”

Tim blinks. “Wait, you mean psychically?”

“I’ve done it before. The ring can build a neural-link construct. If Crane’s using fear gas to keep her locked in a hallucination, I can find her inside it.”

“That’s risky,” Barbara says. “You could get trapped too.”

Kyle doesn’t even hesitate. “I’m not leaving her alone in that nightmare. Not for one more second.”

“No.” Bruce’s voice is dark, it cuts into Kyle. 

“I’m not asking for permission. I’m going to do something since you won’t.”

“Stand down Rayner.”

“I’m not letting her drown in that darkness. I’m going down there. I’ll find her and if I find Crane, I’ll drag him out by the neck.”

Bruce stands up and towers over Kyle. His expression is protective, yet fearful. A pang of guilt underneath his cowl.

“She’s not your only responsibility,” Bruce says, “You think this is personal? It’s personal for all of us.”

Kyle steps forward, chest rising and falling with barely-restrained fury. “Don’t you dare act like I’m overreacting. You didn’t even tell me she was missing until now. You sat here for hours. Running data, playing detective while she was alone in that hell.”

Bruce’s voice stays even. “We handle things by process, not emotion. If you let this spiral-”

“You think I give a damn about the process right now?!”

The words slam into the cave like thunder. Dick flinches slightly. Tim stops mid-scan. Barbra goes silent on the line.

Bruce’s eyes narrow. “We don’t react emotionally. That gets people killed.”

Kyle barks out a bitter laugh, the glow from his ring pulsing hotter. “She’s gone, Bruce. She was out there alone. And instead of calling me, the one person who could’ve tracked her across the damn galaxy, you decided to keep it in-house?! You thought your pride was more important than her life?!”

“We needed confirmation. We weren’t sure,”

“Screw confirmation!” Kyle roars, stepping closer. “You didn’t want help. That’s the truth. You never do. Because if someone else steps in, it means someone else gets to fix it. You’d rather risk her life than admit you couldn’t stop it.”

Bruce’s eyes narrow. “Watch it.”

Barbara breaks their tension by pointing out the obvious; “We’re running out of time, you both need to stop and look at the matter at hand. This isn't helping anyone, certainly not her.”

But Kyle doesn’t stop. He doesn’t look away, he believes that this is fighting for your will. He takes another step forward, squaring off against Bruce, the green glow of his ring clashing with the cold blue of the Batcave lights.

“No,” Kyle growls. “Let’s talk about it. You always act like you’re the only one allowed to care. Like you’ve got the monopoly on grief. But you don’t. You just bury it. You bury it and move on. Until someone else pays the price.”

Bruce stares him down. “That’s enough.”

“No,” Kyle snarls, “it’s not.”

“She trusted you. And you waited. Sat in this goddamn cave with your files and your protocols while she was dragged into hell.”

Bruce's jaw tightens, but he doesn't flinch. “My family matters are not yours to worry about.”

“Don’t pull the family card. Whether you like or not Bruce, I’m considered your family too, so don’t even try.”

Bruce’s eyes harden. “You’re not family. This is not your team. You weren’t trained for this.”

The moment the words leave his mouth, the room shifts. Everyone freezes once more. The glow of Kyle’s ring dims in hurt. Then in a second flares alive with fury.

“Oh,” Kyle says, voice like acid. “There it is.”

His fists clench at his sides. “That’s what you really think, huh? I’m just some outsider. A guest in the family you built with trauma and silence.”

Bruce doesn’t reply. His stance is still. Cold. Measured.

“You act like you’re the only one who ever bled for this mission,” Kyle spits. “Like your grief is the only grief that counts. But I’ve watched teammates die, Bruce. I’ve buried friends in space. I’ve held the hands of people as their minds were torn apart by fear, and I’ve survived it.”

He steps forward again, eyes burning. “Don’t you dare tell me I wasn’t trained for this.”

“Kyle,”  Dick starts, but he’s cut off.

“No. No one else says a word,” Kyle snaps, without even looking at him. “Because I’m done pretending that this was okay. That what Bruce does is noble. It’s not noble. It's bullshit. You hide behind tactics and timelines and control because you can’t stomach the idea that you missed something.”

The words land like a hit to the gut. The silence after them is heavier than anything else in the room. Dick opens his mouth to say something, then closes it again. Tim looks down, jaw tight.

Even the screens seem to quiet.

Bruce speaks low — quiet but lethal. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Kyle leans in, fire in his eyes. “No, Bruce. I know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re terrified of letting anyone see how much you care, because you think it makes you weak. But it doesn’t. What makes you weak is letting the people you love suffer alone, while you sit here and calculate.”

Barbra’s voice cuts back in, urgent and steady. “Kyle, you need to move. Her vitals just pinged from the trace residue left on her comm. She's still alive but her heart rate’s climbing fast. She's panicking.”

Kyle pulls back slightly, shoulders tense, his whole body coiled like a wire about to snap.

“I’m going,” he says again, voice thick with rage.

Bruce blocks his path. “We need to approach this with caution.”

Kyle looks him dead in the eye.

“If she dies because you hesitated again, I swear to God, Bruce, I won’t just blame you. I’ll never forgive you.”

Bruce doesn’t answer. Doesn’t move.

Kyle’s ring flares and a burst of green light swirls around him.

“I’m going in,” he says one last time, locking eyes with Dick, with Tim, with Barbara on the screen.

“To bring her home. Or burn through hell trying.”

A green light flashes, Kyle is gone.

The cave falls still again and Bruce is left staring at the place Kyle just vanished from, jaw clenched, his own fear too deeply buried to show.

~ 

Kyle navigates the old sewerways wearing a constructed green gas mask to repel any toxins. He searches for any trace of you or Scarecrow. On his travels he catches a shine out of the corner of his eye. He hurries over and crouches on the ground. He picks up the object, a necklace. One that he had bought you. He feels the cool metal on his fingers and closes his eyes for a moment. He feels your presence, he knows you are close. 

The damp air presses in, thick with the stench of decay and old fear. Shadows crawl along the walls as his ring’s light casts eerie green patterns across the tunnel’s cracked bricks. He moves forward, each step careful but determined. Memories flood the neural construct. Fragments of your thoughts are altered by Crane’s toxins, flickers of doubt and pain. He catches a glimpse of your silhouette, trapped in a nightmare that twists your reality. Kyle breathes steady again, the hum of his ring synchronizing with his heartbeat. A sharp clatter is heard up ahead, snapping his focus. Behind a rusted pipe is a tall figure. Kyle takes a step closer. 

The gas mask is unmistakable. Scarecrow.

Kyle’s jaw tightens. Got you. He thinks. But the figure vanishes into the shadows as the hallucination consumes him. He steadies himself and breaks free with his willpower. He continues on, the thought of you not once leaving his mind. 

Deeper in the sewers, he comes upon a run off. He follows it down and sees a dim light ahead. He passes the archway and finds you. You’re still tied to the pole and trembling. Your eyes are squeezed shut, the rest of your body limp. His heart stops for half a second then he rushes to your side. 

His hands graze over the shackles and rope keeping you held up. He constructs a shield around the both of you to keep more toxins from entering your system. 

“Hey,” he says softly, cupping your face. “I’m here.”

But you don’t respond. Your eyes flicker behind closed lids trapped deep within the chaos Crane built inside your mind. He knows what he has to do next. He kneels beside you, placing one hand to your forehead. His other hand forms another construct, a green wire arching out like synapses connecting. It slips into your mind like a key through a lock.

His body goes still.

~

The world Kyle steps into is a twisted version of reality. Gotham streets warped like melting wax, shadows cling to every corner, moving when he isn’t looking. He  stands in the middle of it, fully armored, his light barely cutting through the fog. He hears sobbing. Screams. Your voice, pleading with someone who isn’t there.

He moves and the cityscape shifts with every step. Your memories fold over each other. He sees pieces of your past: a shattered childhood bedroom. The cracked pavement where you lost your first fight. A rooftop soaked in rain where a mission went wrong. And at every location are shadows shaped like Crane, lurking in the background.

Then he finds you.

You’re curled on the ground in the center of a crumbling plaza, trembling, clothes torn, blood staining your hands.

Kyle approaches slowly. “Hey,” he says, his voice warm, calm. “I’ve got you.”

You don’t hear him at first. You flinch as another Crane shadow looms over you, mocking you. You let out another scream, thinking that Kyle is here to harm you again. Thinking that the Joker is back for you. 

With a wave of his hand and flick of the lantern ring, the shadow of Crane is gone. The sky seems to clear up just a little more around you, the blood clean from your hands. 

You look up confused, your breath falters. 

“Kyle?” you look up at him with a weary glance. 

“Yeah. It’s me. I’m really here.”

You shake your head, backing away. “No. You’re not. You’re just another lie. Another illusion.You’re not real.”

He reaches forward slowly. “This isn’t a trick. This is me, alright? You dropped your necklace. I found it. I followed it. You left me a trail.” He holds up the silver pendant. You’re crying now, silently. Your body trembles as the hallucinations fight to take hold again. He places your necklace in your hand. The one you thought was lost. The memory attached to it flares back to something warm, something real. A night on the Watchtower. Laughter. Hope. Kyle. Your Green Lantern. 

That breaks the loop. Just enough.

Kyle pulls you into his arms as the storm around you begins to collapse. He holds on tight. For a few minutes. The toxins are worn off and you come back to him.

“Ky?”

“I’m here. I’ve got you,”

“Y-your alive? I thought-”

“Not real, Crane’s toxins are messing with you. I got you free for the moment but you gotta help too. Break through, I know you can do it.”  He helps pull you out of the mental mindgame. You nod against his chest, body still trembling, but the warmth of his hold starts to push back the cold.

“I’m trying,” you whisper. “It’s so loud… it won’t stop.” Kyle tightens his grip around you at the sound of your voice.

“Then listen to me. Focus on my voice. Everything else; the blood, the shadows, the guilt it’s all fake. Crane’s poison.”

Your fingers tighten around the pendant in your palm then a memory emerges. Not a toxin induced one, but a true actual memory. A rooftop on Oa, the twin moons shining overhead. Kyle holding your hand, sketchbook in his lap, laughing as you mocked his attempt at drawing you mid-fight. You hadn’t smiled like that in weeks. And in that memory, you remember the promise he gave you.

“If you ever get lost,” Kyle had said, “I’ll find you. Always.”

That truth hits hard and deep and you take a shaky breath, the surrounding fog starting to lift. The crumbling curated Gotham around you wavers, groans like it's losing power. Kyle brushes a lock of hair from your face.

“There you are,” he murmurs, his voice cracking with something deeper than just relief. “I’ve got you.” He smiles. The nightmare shakes again, harder this time. Crane’s illusion cracks under the weight of your combined will.

But one final shadow remains. Behind you, the real Scarecrow twists into something monstrous. Towering. Rooted in your deepest trauma. His voice echoes through the space.

“You think this ends because of him?” Crane hisses. “You think love saves you from fear? It feeds it. He’ll leave. They always do. And you’ll be alone again. Love is going to get you killed.”

The altered fear and anxiety begins to creep into your system again. It knows exactly what to say. What to show you. The faces of people you’ve lost. The voices of ones who left. Of ones who betrayed. You squeeze your eyes shut, sheltering yourself. 

Not even a millisecond passes and Kyle raises his hand, the green light of the ring surges, crashing into Crane with the force of a hurricane and destroying him with pure willpower. It breaks you free from the fear, the hatred. 

~

Back in the sewer, a blast of emerald light erupts as you wake. Kyle quickly begins to cut and break you out of the ropes and chains. You take a deep breath like it's your first time breathing, like you had been drowning in the ocean. Your eyes crack open and find his immediately. 

“Hey, hey,” he whispers, cupping your cheek again. “You’re here. You’re safe. It’s over.”

Tears spill before you even realize they’re falling. You collapse into his chest. Freed from restraints. And for a long time, he just holds you. No more speeches. No more battles. Just you and Kyle. Just love. 

“I thought I was lost,” you whisper against his armor. “I thought I was never getting out.” He slightly hushes you and runs a hand through your hair for comfort.

“I’ll always come for you. Don’t ever doubt that.” He places a kiss on your temple. He shifts you over so that he is standing, holding you in his strong arms. 

“Come on. I’m getting you out of here.”

~

The chill of the Batcave lingered while Kyle was gone. Everyone sat still around the monitors waiting for a sign of anything. Dick huffs. 

“Are we just gonna keep sitting here? We should go help.” Bruce shuts him down. 

“Rayner has got it all planned. He was not interested in help, he will be fine.”

“B, really? He didn’t want help? That was you!”

Their near argument is cut short by the appearing green portal. It lands both of you in the middle of the Batcave. The moment the construct goes out, Dick is at your side, helping Kyle ease you down onto the nearby med table  but your grip tightens on him for a moment. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers, reading you before you even have to say it. “I’ve got you.”

Dick’s hand hovers over your shoulder, his face pale with relief. Tim lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. And Bruce stays by the monitor. Just standing and staring at you, his daughter. The one he almost failed for what felt like the millionth time. 

You laid there, blinking against the harsh med lights with the Batcave coming into focus. Familiar. Real. You flinch slightly as the medical equipment buzzes behind you

“Easy,” Kyle says gently, sitting beside you, his thumb brushing your wrist. “It’s real. You’re back.” Your eyes lock with his. You nod, but there’s something broken just beneath your surface. You focus and center on the warmth of his touch. 

Bruce steps forward slowly. He stops a few feet from the table. You look at him, your expression unreadable. There’s so much hurt and exhaustion behind your eyes. He opens his mouth to say something. You cut him off with a hoarse voice.

“Don’t.”

It’s not a shout. It’s barely a whisper. But it silences the entire room. Kyle speaks up again. 

“I’m taking her to the healing center on Oa. Where she’ll be protected.”

Bruce takes another step forward on the opposing side of the medbay bed. He glares into Kyle’s soul. 

“No, she is staying here. She will do just fine. I will not let Scarecrow get to her again.”

“Like hell you will. No. She’s coming with me.”

You feel the tension peering out of both of them. You stay still and quiet, too weak to interfere. A few moments of silent staring pass and Bruce keeps on with his stoic act. Kyle makes his final decision. 

“We’re leaving.” He states. Bruce’s jaw tenses slightly. But he doesn’t speak.

“She needs rest,” Kyle continues, his voice calm but full of conviction. “Real rest. Not Gotham. Not the Manor. Not with everything she’s just survived.”

Dick steps forward slightly. “Where will you go?”

“To Oa. The healing center. They’ve handled trauma deeper than this. It’s quiet there. No fear gas. No nightmares echoing down alleyways.” His hand brushes over your shoulder, steady. “No Batman.”

Bruce’s gaze finally shifts over first to Kyle, then to you. He still says nothing. You meet his eyes, and though your throat is sore, your words are loud. 

“I can’t stay here, Dad. I need… to find myself again. Somewhere else.” Something changes in Bruce’s eyes. Guilt, maybe. Or loss. Maybe both. Kyle gives him a moment. Bruce lowers his gaze slightly. When he speaks, his voice is quieter than anyone expects.

“Take care of her.”

Kyle doesn’t nod. Doesn’t salute. “Always.”

Dick steps to your side as the green light begins to build again. He places a hand on your shoulder, offering a soft smile. “You’ll come back when you’re ready. We’ll be here.”

You smile back at him and thank your brothers. As the constructed green platform forms beneath you, Bruce takes one small step forward. Not close enough to touch, but enough to mean something.

“I love you,” he says, barely louder than a breath. “You know that.”

You nod, eyes tearing up. “I know.”

Then Kyle takes your hand, and the two of you rise in a quiet blaze of green light—bright, but soft. No more shouts. No more shadows.

Just a quiet goodbye.

a/n: ITS OVER!!!!! (im writing pt2) LOL. tbh i absolutely adored putting this together. im an angst kinda girl and a half. pt 2 should be more fluffy stay tuned ❇️🥰 also just now seeing that i spelt babs name wrong majority of the time. whoops.

[suigenerisisadiva]

Potential Part 2's for Fics

Alright Divas, which pieces of work would you guys like continued? Just note, I go in order of popularity!!! Lots of people liked these fics!

[sangunary]

Hi hi! Can we have a baby reader that has a habit of biting, headbutting and crying whenever the Batfamily is in their costumes? The baby absolutely loves them and always clings onto the family,follows then around even when they're busy (sitting in Bruce's lap while he's having a online meeting,clinging onto Damian while he paints and draws with one hand, sleeping on Jason's lap while he reads, ect.) but the moment they put on their masks/helmet she instantly stars sobbing, throwing things and hiding from them and if anyone tries to hold them when they still have their costumes on they instantly try to bite or headbutt them?

ᯓBatFamily × Baby Reader ( Platonic ).

SYPNOSIS: Their beloved baby sibling cannot remember who they are under the mask.

IMP: PURELY platonic. Wayyyy longer then I wish.

Your mother died shortly after you were born and your father ran away after realising your existence.

Being a teenager your mother knew she couldn't care for you, as much as she hated to send you off into anothers arms it was for your own sake.

She couldn't be selfish and make you go through a terrible life of poverty and without a father as well.

It happened during a massive earthquake, a building for struggling pregnant teens collapse.

Batman was there to save life along with his children, your mother went into labour due to stress and unknown circumstances.

It was tragic, she had you there and before she could even glace at your face the light left her eyes...

Before her death she begged for Batman to hand you over to someone caple of loving you like how she had hoped to, he tried telling her she wouldn't die yet she knew... She chose you to live as she doesn't see a reason to be breathing if you can't be by her arms.

She rather stay with you even as a ghost.

Batman looking at the newborn crying at his arm's unlock unwanted feelings and memories and decided to raise you himself.

The rest of the family love's you, your precious smile and especially the way you would cling onto them.

You love warmth and affection, completely different from when you were born cold and empty.

Walking on your legs as you would follow after anyone that even glace at you, it was hilarious.

You have extremely short legs, swinging your hand's while you try to run towards them with loud whinning for them to notice you.

If they didn't notice you, you would simply sit down on the ground hard with a thud and fold your arm's, staring at them with the best frown you could manage with. Sitting there sulking in silence unless or until someone pick you up.

Dick love's to teach you acrobatic moves knowing damn well that you can barely run not without almost tripping and falling on your face, you weren't the most athletic baby.

Throwing you up in the air and catching you and then spinning with you, he just loves to hear that adorable giggles of yours you made whenever he does the most dangerous stunt with you.

Sitting you down on the couch as he does a handstand or a flip or anything as you would clap your hands together. He would try to make you do backflip which always ended in him getting hit by Barbara who would took you away from him.

"Look at our little performer! Aren't they the most impressive performer?"

Dick would show any of his sibling of your standing on his hands or you hanging onto his arms.

You would watch him train and even try to train with him which he cannot help but smile at.

You trying to reach the bar that literally felt like it was in heaven cause you saw Dick performing tricks on it, using all your strength trying to pick up heavy weight.

You would not let him train by himself, you felt a deep sorrow seeing him training by himself so you help out as much as possible.

Like, clinging onto him while he did some pull ups, surprisingly your grip is very strong and tight for your age. Resting your head on his shoulder, looking like a baby slot holding onto it's mother.

Or how you would try to hold onto the to dumbbell while he's using it to become he would probably be squished by it if you don't help.

After a few minutes you would be off to napping on the couch exhausted and tired.

If you don't felt like being with Dick you simply go to the next option, Jason.

Jason was alot more gentle scared that he might accidentally hurt you, he does always teach you about on how to be street smart, you don't understand anything he say's but you like to listen.

Seeing him read you would left everything behind to accompany him cause no one is left behind. Always blessing them with your heavenly presence.

Climbing onto the ridiculously talk couch known as the ' reading couch ' Jason would watch as you struggle to get up, it was adorable from his view and it was climbing mount Everest on your part.

You arm's can reach it yet your legs have a hard time trying to get up, when one leg is on the couch you just couldn't lift the other. You wouldn't ask for help either, you rather not seek help from the want needing you.

After you managed to climb the couch you would plop down on his lap or take one arm and warp it around you leaning onto him, looking at the written book infront of you... You can't read.

Jason would simply continue reading in his mind and would even aks you if you finish reading it before turning the page, knowing that you infact cannot read. He knows that you made up completely new word and story.

He's reading Pride and Prejudice you're reading about Baba Black Sheep.

At the Batcave while he's repairing his bike you would Crouch down next to him like his assistant, pointing at gears and nodding along.

Sometimes it's the most comfortable silence he ever had or he's just teaching you about gears and how to fix them.

Hell, he even lables the tools because you don't have the worst memorization factor.

Helping you fix your toy bicycle using toys while being extremely serious.

"Seems like you barely clean the gear, look at this mess, I didn't raise you to be neglecting your prise possesion like nothing"

"Look, touch the tire and feel it... flat, very flat, dangerously flat... We need to pump it up before you get into trouble and cry"

You nod your head vigorously, barely understanding on why he is making you feel the bicycle wheel that is solely made of plastic.

Tim was also your favourite.

You would sit on his laps as he work, the computer lighting up the place, doesn't matter how busy Tim was you always managed to slide in on his arms and just watch like a clueless raccon.

Talking to you about his case and you don't even catch half of the thing he's rambling about yet still nodding along.

If he is studying you would study along side him, holding onto the pencil and lining the alphabet while Tim was busy learning for exam.

Showing him your work whenever you are done and him rewarding you with a head pat.

He even let's you play dress up on his computer while hes taking a break: He's brainstorming there is no break.

His computer consisted of gruesome documents and records and there is also tons of dress up games, making cake, classic games and barbie movies... Safe to say, he pirates alot of barbie movie for your sake.

"The unicorn is her sister? That's beastiality"

"Reminds me of Damian... Must be his secret twin"

Seeing him drink energy drinks and coffee you have been begging to drink as well, cause whatever he does you do it as well no need for questions.

And as a result, he wrote 'Monsta' on a mug he bought you and pour you a drink whenever he drank them, and you would drink it proudly.

It was just mineral water that tasted like fruits, you'll have your first energy drink with him to cheer and witness the start of your addiction.

Damian on the other hand was the most serious of the bunch.

Hes an actual eagle, always there whenever you want hug or attention or even to be love. Scoop you up in his arms and left without a word. He will not have those vermin judge him for treating his siblings with love.

If he saw any of them putting you in danger do not be worried he have been luring behind the darkness before shit can get serious. He's the second shadow of yours ready to pound onto anyone who put you in danger.

He's very serious about your well being and mental state.

Although he did hand you weapons at such young age to train with, you can't blame him he started out young to so if you start young he could be much at ease .

Much to his dismay Bruce doesn't want you near violence in his defence it wasn't violence if they annoy you first.

Now you two are secretly learning how to fight with very very small progress, you cannot even hold onto a small stick for a minute a katana... Was something else.

He's absolutely protective of you since you're an incapable baby, if you see something flying at you you'll just meet it face first cry ahd forget. Have a higher chance of being kidnapped.

It's his absolute duty to protect you from harm, no one lays their hand on you without his permission... He will not tolerate insolent and mannerless people and he will make sure you do to.

Holding onto you while he paint, he never complaint no matter how uncomfortable it was because a good soldier never complaint for their comfort rather they suffer for someone they love.

You would nap in his arm or simply watch him perform his art, it was a quiet comfortable moment... It was a special time for the two of you to bond peacefully.

"Unicorn?"

You asked him, looking up at him who's eyes were still on his the Canva.

"I knew you weren't an intellect child but isn't this out of line even for you?"

"Uni"

"Alright, a horse with a corn on it's head then..."

He can't deny you when you don't even have the brain to register what he is saying, and not because he wanted to spoil you abit... and raise your standards.

Your father was usually busy, busy being Bruce and Batman at night. Since you're a baby it was alot harder for him to spend times with you.

Usually he could do that by spending time's during patroll but he won't allow a child to be a vigilante anymore.

As a result he tried to glue you to his side when he is free, although he wasn't a good father he tried.

He sometime doesn't understand what you are meaning to say and your siblings would have to translate it for him. Although he would try to figure it out before asking them.

Watching anything you enjoy doesn't matter how childish it was Bruce would sit down with you and watch it very seriously. Noting down whenever you laugh or bored for future special times.

Going to the local playground with you while all the mom's stared at him, muttering praise and complements for being such a good father while being single.

He knew they were staring at him since he literally is Bruce Wayne at a public playground, because he doesn't want to spoil you too much and wants you to have normal friends.

Pushing you on the swing, waiting at you at the end of the slide, pretending not to see you while playing hide and seek and even playing along with you during roleplay. He sincerely wanted to be a good father to atleast one of his children.

Unfortunately or fortunately he doesn't see you as a distraction from anything just a responsible he absolutely loves. That means you're everywhere he is at... Gala, outside and even meeting.

You would sit on his lap facing his laptop with a drowsy look on your face, playing with his fingers while he doesn't even seem to know that you are there.

His employees couldn't help but take pictures secretly, you don't look so enthusiastic about the meeting and even falling asleep occasionally. Yet Bruce would only acknowledges you to make sure you were comfortable and not too bored.

Well you did join his meeting because you honestly missed your father but that was a one time thing, now it was mandatory for you to be present during meetings cause you were the joy and happiness for him.

"If we don't have the available resources now our competitors will surely take advantage of that and left us with nothing"

"...Boss? are you listening?"

Bruce who was busy trying to settle your head to a more comfortable position while being as gentle as possible.

"Yeah, hear you... Just have to do some important work continue"

Yet as much as you cling and hold onto them whenever they are going to go out without you. You would freak out with their mask on.

Hiding behind Alfred holding onto him for your life looking at the strangers infront of you, to you they just ate your family. Your family goy eaten by those masks and God were you scared.

Dick would try to find a solution... To hold you then put the mask on but to no one surprise you freak out even more.

Struggling for dear life and even smacking him, tears already forming at your eyes terrified about the fact that your older brother just got eaten infront of you.

Then he would took it off and it took you a great minute to realise he was back from the death. Hold onto him suddenly and cry harder.

Jason terrified you the most, his head was literally engulfed by the helmet of his. You would try to save him by throwing anything you could grab and hold onto.

Grabbing the book closest to you and throwing it at him which barely hit him, hit him as hard as you could while he just stood there unbothered. Alfred would be the one making sure no one wear their complete costume near you.

You couldn't recognise them even if they wear it infront of you it'll make it much more worst. Biting onto them if necessary and headbutt them as hard as you could and it does hurt you and them.

You did headbutt Jason once you never did that again and he couldn't stop laughing after you did it, just the sound of metal being hit ring and utter silence... Followed with the Alfred picking you up before you could resistered the pain.

At first they thought it was just you being stupid and the more you see them the easier it would get... No, it got worst.

You're fully prepared by the time they had hoped for you to stop, thankfully you were strong enough to conflict any pain but you could pull hard enough to took some hair out, bite them or headbutt.

Your favourite was to just ran away while calling out for them not knowing that the person you were running from was the one you seeked.

[iydiamartinx]

NOT WITHOUT APPROVAL

Pairing: Kyle Rayner x Reader ft. Batfam

divider by: @cafekitsune word count: 2.8k synopsis: Kyle Rayner gets interrogated by your overprotective bat brothers. a/n: This was my first time writing Kyle, so go easy on me if he feels a little off—I was also running on zero sleep while doing it 💀

You knew this day would come.

It was inevitable, really. No matter how much you tried to fly under the radar—normal dates, low-key outings, minimal PDA—the moment Kyle Rayner became a regular in your life, your brothers soon found out after that.

Jason was the first to notice. Of course he was.

You weren’t even with Kyle at the time. Just texting him during patrol, your face lit faintly by your comm screen. You hadn’t even realized you were smiling until Jason’s voice cut through the silence.

“Who the hell keeps making you smile like that?” he asked, eyes still scanning the rooftop across the alley.

You blinked. “No one.”

He slowly turned to look at you unimpressed. “That’s a lie. You only smile like that when you’re watching dog videos or texting someone who shouldn’t be texting you.”

“Shut up,” you muttered, tucking your phone away.

He told the others that night.

Which is why, a week later, Kyle found himself in the deeply unfortunate position of walking into a coffee shop and realizing—with the slowness of a man watching his life flash before his eyes—that your four uninvited brothers were there and you weren’t.

Dick was the first to spot him, his smile a little too bright to be genuine. “Kyle, buddy! Glad you could make it. Sit. Want anything? Coffee? A muffin?” His tone was sweet. His eyes were not.

Tim had an iPad in his hands, his usually sleepy gaze sharp and hard for once. “Just a few questions. Basic background check. You know, standard sibling procedure.”

Jason sat across from them, arms folded, expression carved from stone. He didn’t say a word.

Neither did Damian, who lounged beside him, one leg crossed over the other, fingers steepled like a villain as his emerald green eyes narrowed into the infamous bat glare.

Kyle hesitated in the doorway, scanning the table as if gauging whether to run. But it was already too late. He walked toward them with the same reluctant grace of a man stepping into a den of wolves wearing bacon-scented cologne. His usual confident smile twitched, faltered, then gave up entirely as he looked from face to face—each one offering a different variation of the we will end you look.

“So…” Kyle offered, his voice pitching higher than usual, “does this count as a family brunch, or…?”

“Just sit,” Jason said flatly.

He cleared his throat and did just that. 

You arrived late. The bell above the café door chimed softly, but the scene that greeted you brought you to an abrupt stop.

Kyle sat in the centre of the corner booth, hunched between your brothers who flanked him on either side, like a panel of parole officers.

Your eyes narrowed. “You ambushed him?!”

Dick was the first to respond, flashing a grin that was far too wide, far too cheerful to be genuine. “Hey, baby bat. We were just getting to know your… friend.”

Jason leaned back in his chair, arms crossed tight over his chest. “Boyfriend,” he corrected. “She told Steph and Cass he was her boyfriend.”

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “You little eavesdropper!”

Turning to Kyle, your tone softened with exasperation. “You should’ve just left.”

Kyle gave a sheepish laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. Sorry. I should’ve texted you. But I walked in and they were already here, and honestly?” He glanced toward Damian with a grimace. “I was afraid if I ran, Damian would chase me.”

Damian scoffed, clearly offended. “As if I would lower myself to such a humiliating display.”

You turned your glare on each of your brothers in slow succession, the kind of look that said try me. Your finger jabbed toward Jason. “I swear to God, if you threatened him—”

“I haven’t even pulled out my gun,” Jason replied with mock innocence. Then, after a beat, added, “Yet.”

Tim, seated across from Kyle with a tablet in his hands, cleared his throat. “Kyle Rayner. Green Lantern. Former graphic designer. Lives in Metropolis. Mild arrest record for trespassing—art-related. Consistent League presence, decent intergalactic diplomacy score.” He paused and looked up at Kyle with narrowed eyes, “So far, not bad.”  

You shut your eyes and exhaled slowly. “��You ran a background check?”

Tim didn’t even glance up. “I cross-referenced League records, public databases, and pulled his social media footprint. It’s hardly invasive.”

Kyle shifted in his seat, as he sheepishly said with a nervous laugh. “It sort of is invasive.”

Dick leaned forward then, arms resting on the table, hands loosely clasped. He wore that trademark easygoing smile—and despite looking the friendliest, he was probably the scariest. “Look, kid. We’re not here to scare you. We just want to be sure our sister isn’t wasting her time with someone who can’t handle… well… us.”

“That’s rich coming from the guy who cried when she dated that paramedic,” Jason muttered. 

“He had a moustache like Commissioner Gordon!” Dick snapped. “It was weird!”

Your mouth dropped open. “He did not!”

“It was curling,” Dick insisted. “He looked like he should be directing traffic outside GCPD!”

Before you could respond with the scathing remark forming on your tongue, Damian cut in, his voice calm and infuriatingly cold. “I still have a few questions.”

You blinked, already feeling your temper rise. “Absolutely not. My relationship is none of your business—especially not yours, Damian. You’re twelve!”

“Incorrect,” he said, completely unbothered. “With Father off-world on League business, the responsibility of vetting potential suitors falls upon us. And as the only competent one in the room, it defaults to me.”

A chorus of protests erupted immediately from the others that Damian ignored. His gaze flicked to Kyle with practiced disdain, like he was gum stuck to the bottom of his combat boot. “What exactly makes you worthy of my sister, subhuman?”

Kyle blinked, visibly thrown off, still debating whether or not he should take offence to being called subhuman. 

He frozen in place. His mouth opened, then closed. “Uh…” he began, uncertain, the word trailing off as he tried to form a coherent sentence.

Apparently, the hesitation was answer enough.

Damian’s eyes narrowed into sharp green slits. “Drake,” he said, voice clipped, “what else have you found?”

“Continuing with my findings,” he said, voice casual, “Kyle’s record is mostly clean, aside from the minor trespassing incident involving an unauthorized mural I mentioned earlier. Risk level: moderate. Noted to have a saviour complex. And he also cries during Pixar movies.”

Kyle straightened abruptly, scandalized. “I do not cry at—okay, Up doesn’t count,” he admitted, then looked around in disbelief. “How the hell did you even find that out?!”

“Don’t humour him,” you muttered under your breath, shooting Kyle a warning glance before turning your full attention back to the pint-sized menace sitting across from you. “Again—you are twelve, Damian. What the hell makes you an expert on relationship vetting?”

“I’ve read three psychology textbooks,” Damian began coolly, lifting his hand to tick the points off with deliberate precision, “studied the behavioural profiles of over twenty romantic serial offenders—one of which includes Grayson.”

Dick jolted upright, visibly affronted. “Excuse me?”

“Your pattern of failed relationships is both statistically and psychologically alarming,” Damian continued, undeterred. “I’ve even made charts.”

You and the rest of your siblings snorted in unison. Across from you, Kyle gave a small, nervous laugh—the kind of sound a man makes when he’s not entirely sure whether he’s in on the joke or about to be murdered for blinking wrong.

Dick’s voice shot up. “What charts?!”

“And,” Damian went on, ignoring him entirely, “I once successfully diffused a volatile courtship between two League assassins with conflicting kill orders.”

You opened your mouth to speak—possibly to tell him how utterly deranged that sounded, how Leagueassassins should not be part of any romantic case study, much less one led by a twelve-year-old—but he wasn’t finished.

“Your track record, on the other hand, includes crying over someone who ghosted you for a week and then posted a thirst trap.”

Whatever amusement you’d had vanished in an instant. Your jaw dropped, your face flushed. “That was one time!” you snapped, your voice pitching higher than you intended, voice cracked halfway between defensive outrage and and sheer mortification.

“To be fair,” Jason grumbled from his seat, voice laced with judgment and absolutely no sympathy, “she only dated him because—and I quote—‘he had killer abs.’”

Your head snapped toward him so fast it was a miracle you didn’t pull something. “Jason!”

He shrugged. “Don’t look at me. You did say it.”

Tim nodded in agreement.

“Will you idiots please stop listening in on my conversations with Steph and Cass—” you began, only to be immediately cut off.

“Exactly!” Damian exclaimed cutting you off, throwing up a hand. “We cannot afford another lapse in judgment,” he declared, gesturing toward Kyle like he were Exhibit A in a courtroom trial, “simply because this new lover happens to look marginally appealing in low lighting and owns a sketchbook.”

Kyle blinked, the sentence hitting him a beat too late. He processed the insult, then the strange half-praise buried beneath it.

“…Was that a compliment?” he asked, genuinely unsure.

“No!” four voices of your brothers barked in unison. 

The sheer force of the response made him flinch slightly, hands rising halfway in surrender. You sighed, long and loud, dragging a hand down your face in exhausted disbelief. 

Damian’s full attention had returned to your boyfriend now, gaze cold and assessing.

“So,” he said, tone chillingly level, “let me repeat—what makes you worthy of my sister?”

Kyle swallowed, shoulders tensing under the weight of every glare trained on him. He cleared his throat, trying to will some confidence into his voice.

“Uh… right. Well. I guess… I care about her?” he offered.

Damian’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “You guess?”

“No—I do! I do care,” Kyle corrected quickly, sitting forward with more conviction. “She’s smart. Amazing. She’s—she’s brave. She makes things feel… clearer. Like I know who I want to be when I’m around her. She makes me better.”

Jason leaned back in his chair with a groan. “Jesus. That was such a Hallmark line that I think I got a cavity.”

“Do you value your kneecaps?” Damian asked flatly, not even bothering to blink.

That was your cue.

You stepped in at last, exasperated beyond belief, you planted your hands firmly on the worn surface and levelled a withering glare at your brothers. “Okay, this—whatever this is—is over.”

“We’re just doing our due diligence as your brothers,” Tim said, completely unapologetic as he tapped something casually into his tablet.

“No,” you hissed, voice low and livid. “You’re not. You’re all insane. I swear, Duke is the only normal one left in this family.”

Jason shrugged, unfazed. “Your boy toy is still alive. That’s considered restraint.”

Kyle, to his credit, only subtly shift a few inches away from Jason at the his statement.

“I bought him a muffin,” Dick chimed in, as if that excused the interrogation he and the others forced Kyle under.

Kyle nodded quickly, hoping he could help diffuse the tension. “It’s true. He did buy me a muffin.”

You turned to your boyfriend with narrowed eyes. “Stop trying to make light of this. For all you know, these idiots poisoned it.”

The colour drained from Kyle’s face. He looked down at the now-empty muffin wrapper with dawning horror, then slowly turned his head toward Dick, who merely grinned wider and winked—completely refusing to confirm or deny the accusation.

Damian, meanwhile, was still watching Kyle with unnerving focus, arms folded, lips pressed into a thin line. Then, finally, he spoke again, “If you hurt her,” he said, voice firm and cold, “the Green Lantern ring won’t save you from me.”

You let out a sharp breath, pinching the bridge of your nose. “This is insane. I’m not fifteen. I’m not sneaking out to meet a boy behind your backs. Kyle and I are seeing each other. End of story. You do not get a vote.”

Jason leaned back, arms crossed, expression smug. “Actually, we get four.”

“For fuck’s sake,” you muttered, rubbing your temples.

Across the table, Kyle had gone still. Damian’s words had clearly hit their mark. But rather than shrink away, he reached for you.

His hand found yours hesitantly, fingers brushing your skin like the simple act of touching you might trigger a full-on brawl with the others. His gaze flicked to your brothers—who had suddenly gone quiet, watching with interaction with sharp, unreadable expressions—and then settled back on you.

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “Really. I get it. If I had a sister like you… I’d be worried too.”

You froze and softened at the fact he wasn’t completely bothered by your family.

Kyle turned back to your brothers, squaring his shoulders as he looked between them one by one. Then his eyes found Damian again. He held Damian’s glare, steady and unflinching.

Then, with a slow nod, he spoke—his voice calm, steady, and utterly sincere.

“Okay,” he said. “Like I said—I get it. I respect it. But I’m not going anywhere. And I’m not going to hurt her.” He let the words hang there, heavy and unflinching, and then added—more quietly, but somehow more resolutely, “You don’t have to like me. Hell, you can threaten me all you want. I’m not here to fight you. I’m here because I really do care about her deeply.”

There was a long silence. Then Jason sighed like it physically hurt him. ““Well… he’s not the worst you’ve done.”

“I still don’t like him,” Damian added swiftly, as if he needed to get it on the record before anyone mistook him for soft. “But… I suppose if he hurts you, we’ll just make him disappear.”

Kyle blinked. “Wait, does this mean you all approve?”

All of them snorted at the question.

“Don’t push it, buddy,” Dick said, rising from his seat. Tim followed suit, both of them stepping aside to let Kyle escape the booth

You didn’t bother replying. Instead, you grabbed Kyle’s arm and tugged him up with more force than necessary, already heading toward the door with determined steps.

“Okay. We’re leaving,” you announced, throwing one last glare over your shoulder. “Next time, we’ll do dinner off-planet.”

Tim blinked. “You know we can just hack the satellites.”

You only flipped your brothers the bird. Kyle turned to you as you stepped outside, the door swinging shut behind you with the soft jingle of the bell. His expression was a mix of awe and mild terror.

“…You know,” he said slowly, “I suddenly understand why you have trust issues.”

Before you could respond, he leaned in a little closer, voice dipping into a whisper like he thought your brothers might still be listening. “Just so I know… are there more of them?”

You sighed, the sound long-suffering but laced with something almost—almost—fond.

“Technically?” you said, casting Kyle a sideways glance. “Barbara’s neutral. Cass and Steph like you—so far. Duke too. But he also told me to pass along a message.”

Kyle raised an eyebrow, waiting.

“If you break my heart,” you continued sweetly, “he’ll ruin your credit score.”

Kyle blinked, visibly thrown. “That’s… a very specific threat.”

You only smirked, slipping your hand around his arm and tugging him gently forward. “Welcome to my family.” There was a beat of silence before you added, far too casually, “Oh, and remember—you still haven’t officially met my dad yet.”

Kyle stopped cold in his tracks.

You felt the sudden halt in his step and turned just in time to watch all the colour drain from his face.

“Wait. What?” he said, voice a little higher than usual. “I thought… I just survived the Four Horsemen of Gotham. Can’t they just pass along a message or something?”

You turned to face him, your expression amused. “They were the warm-up.”

Kyle blinked. “The warm-up?”

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, nodding. “Bruce prefers one-on-one conversations. Private. Controlled. Somewhere quiet, and… less likely to leave evidence.”

Kyle ran a hand down his face, visibly distressed. “I’ve fought aliens. I’ve stared down gods. I’ve survived being trapped in a black hole with Guy Gardner. But this…” He trailed off, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like a prayer.

And yet—he didn’t step back. He didn’t run. He just stood there, eyes wide, shoulders tight. Then, with a sharp breath, he straightened, lifted his chin, and gave a shaky nod.

“Okay,” he said softly. “Okay. I can do this. I’ve got this. Probably.”

You grinned, looping your arm through his. “That’s the spirit.”

From the café window behind you, a small figure stood watching—arms crossed, green eyes narrowed, a satisfied smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Fool,” Damian murmured, his breath fogging faintly against the glass.

Jason, standing beside him and sipping what was left of his coffee, let out a low chuckle.

“Dead man walking.”

[athenalvss]

LEAVE US ALONE ( Wally west! )

summary: three moments when your family ruined your time with your boyfriend.

pairing: Wally west x batsis! reader

part one - part two

open request - wally west masterlist

The rain tapped softly against the bedroom windows. The storm was wreaking havoc in Gotham, leaving the weather windy and cold, but inside, everything was warm.

The dim lamplight cast soft shadows on the walls, while Wally was halfway on top of yours. His hand brushed against your waist beneath the fabric of the old tshirt he'd stolen that afternoon, while his lips descended down your neck in a slow, almost devotional sequence.

"Mmm… come on Wally"

The kisses became more demanding. The caresses, more daring. Your legs tangled with his under the sheets, seeking closer contact if possible, while the storm outside seemed to give rhythm to both of your accelerated pulses. Wally slid his fingers under the elastic of his shorts, just as

CLANK

The sound of something metallic hitting the balcony frame brought them out of their trance. Wally froze, his body still on top of yours, both of them gasping and paralyzed.

"It can't be..." you muttered, turning your head just in time to see a wet figure forcing the window.

"What the fuck—!" Wally began, pulling the sheet up to cover your both.

Jason Todd, soaked by the rain, casually slipped onto the balcony as if he weren't intruding on a moment that clearly wasn't meant for visitors. "Why is the door locked?" he said casually, shaking the water off his shoulders. "I told you he could stay here only if you left the door open."

"Jason, are you completely crazy?" you complained, covering yourself with the sheet. "Knock on the door like a normal person!"

"I knocked on the door, you know?" he replied, raising an eyebrow with a mocking smile. "But you were too busy with your soft porn session to listen."

Wally let out a strangled sound, burying his head under his pillow as if that would reverse the trauma.

—Jason. Out. Now. —you growled, gritting your teeth. —I'm not going to repeat this.

Jason ignored you completely and jerked his chin. "Is that your sleepwear? Because if that's sleepwear, I need to talk to Bruce about the new dress code in this house."

"Get out!" you shouted, red with embarrassment.

"Not until you swear to me that the idiot with super speed isn't going to try to get his hands on you" he paused for a second to think before continuing. " Nah, you know what? I'm staying until you both calm down." Jason slumped into the chair next to the desk as if it were his room.

"Are you kidding?" you muttered, your eyes narrowed.

"You're in bed with your boyfriend half naked and you're asking me if I'm joking? "

Wally sat up slowly, still wrapped in the sheet like a traumatized mummy. "Jason, brother, please don't make this any more awkward than it already is."

—Brother he calls me... Look how quickly he tries to gain approval, —Jason replied, giving him a sharp look.

Silence .

Wally took a deep breath. A very deep breath. "Do you think it's weird if I go live in another dimension for a couple of weeks?"

"No, take me with you please"

── .✦

The living room was silent, lit only by the blue glow of the television screen. The blankets wrapped around them, blanket-like warmth, and a tub of ice cream sat between them.

Wally had one arm around your shoulders, his other hand gently playing with your fingers. You were leaning against his chest, feeling the steady, steady beat of his heart as the movie slowed to a crawl.

"Did you know this scene was improvised?" Wally murmured, smiling mischievously, turning slightly to get a better look at you.

"Did you know I couldn't care less about the movie and I want you to kiss me?" you replied, raising an eyebrow with an equally daring smile.

He leaned toward you, his lips brushing yours with that slowness that makes the world disappear. The ignored movie. His fingers slipped under the blanket and caressed your waist gently, letting you feel the rough pads of his fingers, and just as his lips finally rested on yours

¡PLOP!

The sound of someone throwing themselves onto the couch with the entire weight of the universe suddenly separated them. The blanket shifted and the tub of ice cream almost fell to the floor. .

"Family movie night!" Dick announced with fake cheerfulness, a giant bucket of popcorn in his lap. "What are we watching?"

you both looked at him with a mixture of terror, shame and pure hatred.

"Dick... you're fucking kidding me, aren't you?" Wally muttered, his voice deep, visibly frustrated. "You're in my top three people I want to throw out a window right now!"

"How sensitive! Is this how you treat your best friend?" Dick replied, as if he didn't notice the mess he had just made.

"Clearly!" Wally sat up in the chair, still covered up to his waist by the blanket that now hung disastrously. "Do you know how hard it was to convince her to watch this movie with me?"

"A cheesy romantic comedy?" Dick said, looking at the screen with feigned interest. "Hmm, yeah, not your style. Weird. Almost... desperate i can tell."

"Because I am!" Wally exploded, pointing at you. "I want to spend time alone with my girlfriend!"

"Oh, how romantic," you said, rolling your eyes.

"I was trying!" Wally told you, pointing to the sky as if summoning the gods. "Until Dick the cock blocker came along."

Dick stood up from the chair with a firm slap on his thighs. "All right, I'll leave you two alone. But don't say I didn't warn you when Bruce checks the hallway cameras and sees Wally doing God knows what to his daughter."

"Don't come back," you growled, pointing the remote at him.

He walked away as if he hadn't caused a catastrophe.

Silence.

The glare from the screen was still there, the ice cream half-melted, the blanket badly placed, the atmosphere ruined.

Wally let out a long, defeated sigh and slumped back against the chair, his eyes closed and his heart split in two. "I can't take it anymore."

You turned to him, watched him for a second—his head thrown back, his arms crossed behind his neck, his legs spread—and in the calmest voice you could muster, you whispered, “That was so hot, Wallace.”

Wally opened one eye slowly, confused.

"what?"

── .✦

The Batcave hummed with life: console lights flickered, screens flashed with maps and data, and the distant echo of the elevator announced the imminent start of another night's patrol.

You had stayed in your usual spot, in front of the central monitor, adjusting the last lines of communication for the departure. You needed to have everyone's lines perfectly connected in case something happened.

Wally, on the other hand, already in his bright red suit, approached you in complete silence. As soon as he made sure you were out of sight, he leaned down to rest his chin on your shoulder.

"You're not going to miss me that much, are you?" he whispered, brushing his lips against your neck.

"Maybe," you replied, still staring at the screen, but still smiling. Wally was like a magnet. He always was.

"A goodbye kiss for your favorite hero?" he asked, pouting, trying to sound pitiful, as if you'd ever denied him a kiss.

You turned slightly in your chair to face him and, without thinking twice, gently took his face in your hands, letting your faces almost touch. What a beautiful man. "Only one."

It was a quick kiss at first, but as always with him, neither of you knew how to stop in time. Your fingers tangled in his red hair, his hands rested on the console behind you, and the hum of the device became a distant murmur. It wasn't anything too explicit, but it wasn't a chaste kiss either.

And right in the middle of that scene, something a bit more “affectionate” than recommended for a secret base of operations

"This is a workspace, not a motel.

you both suddenly separated as if someone had thrown a grenade.

Damian Wayne emerged from behind one of the side consoles, like a vengeful shadow, his arms crossed and the impassive expression of someone who had clearly been there for a while.

"How long have you been there?" you asked, putting a hand to your chest to keep your heart from leaping out of your mouth.

"Long enough to witness him try to merge with you, sister" she replied without flinching. "Frankly, I expected a little more discretion from you"

Wally protested, throwing up his hands, offended. “It was a kiss. A perfectly consensual and controlled one between two adults.”

"Aren't you a little old to have such raging hormones?" he said with a crooked smile. "I thought you were supposed to have control over those things by this age."

Wally looked at him, taking a deep breath as if mentally counting his patience. "Forgive me for having a functional love life."

"It's not functional if it interferes with work," Damian replied simply. "Even less so if you do it in the middle of the Batcave."

You settled into the chair, crossing your arms.

"And what were you doing back there, exactly?" you asked, crossing your arms and glaring at him.

Damian didn't hesitate. "A private investigation for our father, he wants to be aware of everything that happens here" he murmured in the same tone before turning around and going to sit in the Batmobile.

[mylonelylife135]

My pathetic Family

Vigilantes.

TW: Injuries, violence against (you).

.

.

.

Dick's parents died.

You found that out when you were eventually asked by Alfred how it went 'bonding' with your new brother.

You told the truth. Why wouldn't you? it's not like you had played with stuffed plushies and ate cookies together.

You tried to get to know this new sibling, and got yelled at.

What else was there to say?

"(____), The reason why Master Richard got angry is because... Because his parents are gone." Alfred's voice sounded guilty, like he didn't want to tell you this information without Richard's consent.

Gazing up at Alfred, you couldn't help but blurt out the words "Like my mommy?"

Alfred eyes widened in surprise momentarily before he regained his composure and ruffled the top of your head. "Yes, just like your mother, (____)."

You couldn't help but wonder why it was such a big deal, then? you didn't even know your own mom, let alone your dad.

Then again, if it was Alfred you would be very sad. So I guess you sort of understood where your new brother was coming from.

Of course, once Alfred found out that you and Richard had what could be honestly said as a horrible first meeting: He told Bruce about what had transpired between the two of you.

You didn't expect that it would strain your relationship further with your new brother when Alfred had informed Bruce of your unfortunate interaction with Richard.

It hadn't been more than a day after your interaction with Richard that he had barged into your room while you were playing by yourself, slamming the door open and looking furious.

It wasn't hard to find your room. Especially since Alfred and Bruce had Richard's room set up right next to yours in the hopes you would body with each other by being in close proximity.

Of course, that would never happen.

"You told on me!? Thanks for getting me in trouble you little-" Richard cut himself off, hands clenched tightly.

You stared at Richard wide-eyed on the floor, clutching a teddy plush to your chest tightly.

"I didt-didn't lie. Y-You yell at me bev-before and now." You responded back, confused since it wasn't like you lied.

Alfred told you to tell the truth! Like when you accidentally broke a plate or you took snacks from the fridge!

What was so wrong with telling the truth?

"It doesn't mean you have be a snitch!" What was a snitch?

"I-I am not!" You denied, clutching your stuffed teddy tighter.

You didn't know what a snitch was, but it sounded like a bad thing with how your new brother was saying it.

"Whatever, just don't do it again!" Richard turned on his heel, about to leave.

Your eyes were to the ground; You were tearing up again, you didn't like being yelled at.

It made you feel like you did something wrong.

"Are you mat-mad at me bew-becawse of your mommy and daddy being gone?" You asked, eyes teary and your voice shaky.

"...What did you just say?" You could hear your brother stop in his tracks, his voice suddenly quiet.

Maybe now you could try again, another chance. Another chance to get on the right track.

You didn't entirely understand your brothers situation but you did have something in common.

"My mommy is aw- also go-" you couldn't even finish your sentence before the back of your head hit your bedside table and both your face and back of your head burning with pain.

An ear-piercing shriek of pain escaped you, your tiny hands going up to clutch your face, blood gushing out of your nose and tears dribbling down your cheeks.

You looked up with blurry vision only to see Richard's baby blue eyes full of fury, then watched as it quickly turned to shock as he had realized what he had done.

He kicked you in the face.

He had just kicked Bruce's child in the face.

Richard took a step closer to you with a hand outstretched, and you instinctively backed up only for your back to hit the bedside table.

You immediately screamed, crying incoherently at Richard to go away and for your daddy.

Just as quickly as you had screamed, footsteps came rushing towards your room to the sound of screaming and crying.

You didn't remember much of what had happened afterward other than stumbling towards Alfred's legs and hugging them tightly before you were picked up. You rested your head on his shoulder, sobbing and clutching his neck.

You looked back with blurry and glassy eyes as Alfred rushed you out of your room; seeing Bruce standing in front of Richard and Richard's pale expression. Droplets of blood stained the wooden floors.

.

.

.

It was a miracle you didn't have to go to the hospital.

Fortunately, you only had a bloody, bruised nose and a bump on the back of your head.

Other than a slight headache and your face burning, you were fine.

You were fine. You were fine. You were fine. Alfred was furious and didn't leave your side, making sure to keep gauze in your nostrils, a cold compress on the back of your head and once your nose stopped bleeding some ointment to ease the pain and bandages on your nose.

Only when did you manage to fall asleep late into the night did Alfred leave your side to have a discussion with Bruce and Richard.

"Master Bruce, this is unacceptable! Do you know how badly he could have hurted (____) very badly if he hit any harder!" Alfred cried out, his voice full of anger at how the man he considered his own son was so apathetic. Bruce inhaled sharply, putting his cowl over his head "Alfred, I've already forbidden Dick from crime fighting as Robin. He will also apologize to (____)-"

"Master Dick has hurt your child! What good is an apology if (____) starts crying at the mention of his name!?" Alfred raised his voice, a hand on his head as he let out a heavy sigh. "Bruce, (____) is too scared to tell even me the truth about what had happened. All she is saying is that she 'fell.' No child manages to get injuries such as this unless she has fallen from a high tree." "..."

Richard was standing off to the side in the batcave, his head hung low in shame as he listened to his mentor and his butler arguing.

It was around 8 or 9 PM last time Richard checked, he didn't get the opportunity to find what time it was now since he had been yelled at for the last hour by Bruce and now was listening to Bruce and Alfred arguing about what he did.

Bruce was putting on his batsuit as he argued with Alfred, it was clear that what had happened was not going to stop him from going out and fighting crime tonight.

Richard glanced upwards as he heard small movements that he was positive wasn't Bruce putting on his batsuit as he argued with Alfred. He swore he could hear tiny pitter patters of footsteps- "Oh jeez!-" A curse almost escaped Richard's lips, causing Alfred and Bruce's to turn towards Richard before becoming dead silent.

You were in the batcave at the end of the steps, your eyes dead set on the three and clutching your favorite chameleon plush close to your face, as if to cover how bad your nose looked.

How did you even get into the batcave? Alfred was sure he put you to bed and the grandfather clock entrance that covered the stairs was covered as usual and even then there's a code that you shouldn't know unless-

"I heard yelling." You say quietly, a sniffle escaping you as you tried to breathe through your nose and it ached.

Your eyes were on your dad in a bat suit.

Batman.

He was Batman, You've seen him on T.V before with a boy in a red suit. You chattered excitedly to Alfred many times whenever you saw Batman on T.V about how Batman and Robin were so cool.

If Batman was your daddy, then Robin was Richard.

"A-Are you Batman, da-daddy?" your voice was scratchy from how much you cried before, you didn't like how your own father could choose to spend time with some lost kid over you voice sounded so full of pain.

Bruce and Alfred exhanged shocked glances, unsure of how to proceed.

Richard took a step forward, "I-"

"I will never forgive you or forget this. It-It is okay." You murmured tiredly, taking a step back instinctively and averting your gaze away from the older boy.

Alfred would gently pick you up and

That was it.

It may have only been two bad interactions, but these interactions would cement your relationship with Richard Grayson.

Or lack of a relationship, that is.

After this incident, you no longer played with your toys of stuffies to Alfred's concern.

You didn't really do anything until he gently suggested that you find a new hobby if perhaps you didn't enjoy your stuffies or tea party's by yourself anymore.

You would eventually chose a new hobby in a couple of months after this incident. That hobby would be (___________).

Alfred swore to himself to keep more of an eye on you after the incident since you were starting to act oddly.

Bruce would move on from this incident after a couple of weeks.

Richard? You didn't speak to him. He didn't speak to you. His room was moved away from yours after he hurt you.

You were scared of him and avoided him.

You had to give credit to Dick, though. He taught you something very important that you would never forget:

Lying is better than telling the truth, telling the truth would get you hurt.

Relationship Status!

Bruce Wayne (Your father): 0/100

-Why does he care more about some orphan over you?

Alfred Pennyworth (Your only friend): 85/100

-At least you can count on Alfred.

-He chose you.

-That means he loves you.

Richard Grayson (The one you fear): -30/100

-You don't like Richard.

-You're scared of him.

-Are you why my father doesn't spend time with me?

-He broke something inside of you.

A/N: You thought Damian would be the one to hurt you? NAHHHHHHHH THAT'S TOO COMMON IN THESE STORIES, HERE'S SOMETHING TO CRY ABOUT. If you did cry my bad. If you end up hating Dick? GOOD. It means I did a good job. ALSO there will be a poll up today! It will be up for until maybe tomorrow and will be relevant to chapter 4 and what your hobbies will be! (This will totally not have consequences later on.) Taglist!

@the-dumber-scaramouche

@sirenetheblogger

@bellethesleepypotato

@mev-fizzah-writes

@tsxukikami

[invincibledc]

Batsib!reader: Good responses for being stabbed with a knife?

Dick: Rude.

Damian: That’s fair.

Jason: Not again.

Tim : Are you going to want this back?

[hattersrabbit]

LOVE, ME NORMALLY

yandere batfamily x neglected! rogue! reader | sfw

CW! female reader, meta reader, hurt comfort, manipulation, hurt no comfort, overprotective batfam, misunderstandings, miscommunication, Timothy 'Stalker' Drake, all PLATONIC relationships, reader is described with having hair, yandere aspects near the end (srry possibly part 2 lol)

Summary! You were always the normal one. Another one of Bruce's flings children, who hid you from him and he was distant despite grabbing you the moment you were known. You were normal until this terrifying power appeared. And now their acting like your loved when you finally leave.

next | series

˖꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷

You had a relatively normal childhood. Just you and your hard working mother. A woman of high standing who would bring you to fancy balls and such.

Never had a father you realized at some point. You asked and never got an answer. Then death struck and your mother was gone.

Dead in the bed beside you. The one time you slept with her and hugged her because of a nightmare.

The media going wild when it was revealed that Bruce Wayne; the prince of Gotham had another child.

The man seemed to rush to your side. Icy blue eyes that were cold and dark as they laid eyes on your. Holding a kind hand out to you which you took hesitantly.

You had a father.

And when you arrived at the manor you lost your father once again. You showed your normalcy, and your siblings shared that same thought.

Normal is what you were. Too normal.

Duke, albeit the most sane of them all was distant. Holding a secret, and in fact they all were. Duke running out in the morning was suspicious to you.

Even in the mornings he seemingly ignored you. A quick wave of the hand that deemed to dismiss you than a greeting.

Your father was distant. He didn't come up really in the morning, and when you got home from school he wasn't around. At night he completely distant.

Duke was already in bed after dinner most times.

The entire family, your siblings were distant. Most turning a blind eye to you. There was always some kind of awareness to you guys. Almost like they didn't know how to talk to you.

It took some detective work but you grew to understand the secret that they held. The secret Alfred didn't share with you. A man who was kind but was just as distant.

Never in your god damn life ever expect everyone in the damn family to be Batman and Robin and former Robins.

Dick as the older brother was warm in the beginning. It almost seemed fake, and he was nice to you. He still is but once again; that theme of distance. He was always busy, and especially most of his attention stayed on Damian.

Robin as he was called was always irrational about your appearance at the manor. After all, he was supposed to be the only blood son. It was extremely hard talking to him, and he didn't make it easy with his hard attitude.

You'll give him that you guys shared a bright conversations about animals. He caught you sketching one time and he observed it. He hadnt said anything.

You have no idea if he liked it. He made no indication he liked it, so you only hoped.

Jason Todd seemed indifferent. He was rugged and beaten down by the Joker. You two were the farthest when it came to normalcy. You grew up in some luxury and new happiness. The Red Hood; him grew up in Crime Alley and died a violent death.

This disconnection proved to be both on your sides. Neither of you knew how to talk to one another.

Tim was...Weird. He observed you creepily, while nice and he was busy. He kept a sort of distance to not let you be suspicious which you did. Sometimes you would catch him swiftly walking past your room.

Odd, but you left it alone. Once again distance and wouldn't really allow you to ask him why he was being so weird with you.

Stephanie was some you found you could easily talk to, but there was unwillingness to share. She too grew up with a hard family life, while you had something good. If there's one thing you guys shared it was daddy issues, but that was all.

You were a simple girl that was a little in high standing thanks to your mother's job. Once again the distance to share was limited. Once more there wasn't anything to share.

She and Tim were close. So she too was looking at you albeit a little different now.

Cassandra was...you didn't know how to talk to her. She stare at you with blank eyes. Observing you in a less creepy way than Tim and annoying way (Steph).

Observing and seeing how uncomfortable she made you. Making an effort but once again there was a semblance to hide things from you. Like the past she's killed people before, and that scared you. She turned a new leaf and she was strong.

Her and Bruce's relationship in particular sparked a jealous mark in your chest. The want to be held and spoke to soft. Instead you got a father who didn't speak to you and was too busy too.

Everyone, even Alfred who cleaned up their messes, was too busy for you.

To you, no one noticed your sadness and eventual departure emotionally. No more tries in talking to them, or hanging out in the living room. No more trying to help out Alfred, and no more waves to Duke who was once again rushing to the basement.

You had no idea if they knew you knew. Did Alfred know that you knew? To you it wouldn't have made a difference because you'd only get in the way.

And this power you had was scary.

You're first kiss with a boy and you could have killed him.

In the hallway of the school. With no cameras and skipping class. With the one person you understood you; that being your boyfriend.

A man that didn't neglect you. Treated you like it was normal to be normal. Who wasn't a vigilante fighting people in the streets.

Hands on your hips and pulling you close. With a smile on your face you kissed him sweetly.

And then he went rigid. You couldn't pull away from him. Opening yours eyes you could seeing his skin becoming paler and sickly. Blue veins driving up his skin.

Almost as if glue was sticking you guys together. A rushing of power going through you and you couldn't stop it. It was nice being touched like this; but no. Not this way.

You pushed him away. Your back slamming into locker and he dropping to the floor. His expression blank and close to death. You couldn't help but scream.

Just as teachers were looking what happened you ran out of the school and to somewhere else entirely. You're whole body felt different. Faster and stronger than ever.

Using your sweater you tried to cover your body in the winter weather. Tears falling down your cheeks. Pulsing lips that ached with need.

You didn't know what would happen when you got home. What would they think? If they even cared? Duke was a meta, but he knew how to use your powers. This ability appeared out of nowhere.

If you touched them then you could kill them. You didn't want that at all even if your relationships were strained.

Using your phone you could see a white stream in your hair. Touching it you felt disoriented. Confused because what the hell was even happening to you.

A ding alerted you. A text from your father asking if you were at school. Missing from the school premise. Your blood ran cold at the reveal because what could you say.

You didn't answer and only made your way home.

A home that never really was a home to you.

You would leave because how else could you live. It was obvious touch was a no no. You could kill people and you didn't want that. You only hoped your boyfriend was alive.

God you pleaded that he lived.

You didn't go through the front door. Climbing in through the window was quite easy.

Grabbing gloves, and every piece of clothing that would cover you foot to toe. You felt hot and horrible. The breeze on your skin to never touch, nor would you touch anyone ever again.

No bare skin against anyone ever.

You heard the voices of Tim and Bruce talking frantically. Your heart shook wildly. Eyes looking between the door and the windows.

"He was found gasping for life! And she was missing from class." Tim's voice wasn't quiet. You held your breath trying to stabilize it. You didn't want to be caught.

You wondered why they suddenly cared.

Of course the first time you skip class is the moment their alarmed. Not sticking to your normalcy wasn't normal for you. You were supposed to be normal.

"You think she's a meta?" Bruce asked behind your door.

"More and more people are meta. Born to normal parents but end up having powers. I always felt an inkling about her, and her mother."

"Her mother?"

"She said she died beside her. Hugged her when they fell asleep, and in the morning she was dead. That's what [ ] reported. It's why I told everyone to keep sort of a distance. It could affect us, and her too."

You gasped and back on your mouth you clamped your hand down.

Tim knew?

He figured it out before you even knew. Looking at your hands you realized in horror that you killed your beloved mother. Tears welled up in your eyes.

Sure your power was terrifying but neglecting you in a way. Starved of connection and touch from your own family. It was bitter but you couldn't blame Tim from saying such a thing.

"They haven't found her. She read my text but hasn't texted back."

That's when you knew you needed to leave. Damn footsteps rang hard on the wood. Just as you swung a bag on your shoulder and out the window the door slammed open.

Tim and Bruce calling your name as you dropped from the windows. Tears in your eyes as you dropped to the ground and ran. Running far and away from this place.

They were right to stay away from you. It made so much sense. Waking up that morning feeling more refreshed than ever and then she was dead in the bed.

It was you that killed her. You could have killed your boyfriend that most likely didn't want you anymore. You could have killed all of them.

You didn't blame them.

Not at all.

You understood why.

School was over and the day was setting. Vigilantes were out and bout soon. The Batman would be upon you and you knew it.

They knew it.

They must have.

You were going to hide, even if it got you killed. A being of an ability that only killed people around you.

Never to touch anyone ever again.

The large screens in Gotham already altering of what happened at the school. Your face plastered on it along with your boyfriend.

He survived.

Feeling betrayed he said. Scared of you, and yet saying you were the sweetest girl ever to exist.

The entire Wayne Family underfire and continous questions about you. People calling for your arrest for almost killing an innocent boy. You didn't blame them, but the feel of a cold prison isn't something you wanted.

The manor was a cold prison. No love and affection from them. Afraid of you and this power.

You wondered what Duke felt about you. He was just as distant, yet being like you. However, his power wasn't destructive like you. The slightest touch from you would cause death.

You couldn't pull away anytime it happened.

Your strive for touch was a disease, and needed to be exempt from having such a luxury.

It was night.

You made yourself scarce. At least tried too, especially when your family were vigilantes; for the night belong to them.

"There she is!" You huffed as another goon from the Penguin tried to snuff you out. You knew it was a matter of time until they found you. No doubt Barbara was on top of making sure you were found.

Tim surely wasn't.

"Come quietly." The man spoke lowly. Catching sight how all of you was basically covered. Not a lick of skin other than your face. You're also toxic too. A mocking reminder of what led to this.

"You'll die if you touch me!" You scrambled to get away. Tears flowing out of your eyes. Anxiously looking around for your siblings, or your father.

"That's what we're counting on. Not me of course; but that you have the ability to destroy anyone. Poor girl, everyone's after you."

It was true. There was no one for you and no body to save you. You weren't to be cared for. In reality, you weren't supposed to have existed. Your mother having hid your existence from your father. Then this power appeared, and then he was the Batman.

There were plenty of reasons to not want you. A monster, and a weapon as this man said.

A tranquilizer gun in his hand. A foot on your stomach and holding you down. You struggled.

If you touched him then he'd go down. But you wouldn't be able to pull away and he would die. You didn't want him to die. Surely, yes using for you reasons that were dark, but you shared your father's beliefs in a way.

This power made you dangerous.

You couldn't go killing people.

Society of Gotham already didn't like you. Wishing for you to be taken away, probably Black Gate, and held prison. Such a dangerous simply by touch was horrifying for the public.

And you caused your family pain. They were being asked questions about you. Surely they knew nothing about you because of this power.

Maybe it would be better to end it here. Get the needle of the tranq deep in your neck. Maybe then you'll die and bleed out.

However, the goddess of life and or god of death weren't on your side. Light broke up the darkness. The foot crushing your stomach was gone.

The slam of metal meeting flesh was loud. Bright lights lowered and suddenly gloved hands were holding you. Immediately however your pushed them away. Rolling onto your stomach and on your feet.

Horror in your gut.

Signal and Black Bat right in front of you. Both eyes covered, and no mouth for Black Bat.

"[ ]." Signal, no, Duke spoke to you. A trembling voice. Watching how you backed yourself in the corner of the alley.

"Go away!" You pleaded. Pulling the scarf to cover your face more. Everything to cover you more. Feeling so claustrophobic in these clothes but people would die.

Cassandra and Duke would die if they touched you.

"We found her." Black Bat, or Cassandra. Her voice proved it. It was slightly shaky as she relayed that they have had you.

You were a danger, but the tone didn't make sense to you. Why? Why was it sad and concerned.

Why did Duke step forward without a care in the world. A bright light twinkling at his fingertips. Showing you, and yet you looked away.

"Get away from me-"

"I'm just like you, and I treated you terribly. Ignoring your waves, and above all not meeting you in solidarity." His voice was shaky. You didn't want to listen, because why did he care now.

There was a reason for the neglect, and it was because you were a monster. The slightest of touch could kill him. You didn't wish for that.

"Come home." A hand pulled at your jacket. Covered arms hugging you tightly. In horror, Damian hugging you. "Stop-"

"Never. Not until your home." Nightwing, Dick was smiling. You didn't like that smile. It was something else. "No one else will get you if you don't come home, now." You shook despite the fact his haunting eyes were covered by white lenses.

"Come home?! Why would I after all-"

"I'm sorry for that. I should have been more understanding. We all should have." Along side Red Hood was Red Robin. Jason and Tim looking at you. Feeling a stare.

"We all do, cutie." You jumped in Damian's tight hold. Spoiler, Stephanie poking your cheek with her gloved finger. "Oh, don't run away from us." She giggled behind her mask.

"The old man would be sad." Jason spoke lowly. "You wouldn't want that?"

"Yes exactly." Stephanie agreed. A sly look in those eyes of her. Sickeningly sweet, and toxic.

You blinked.

Yes, you would make Bruce sad. After all, he was your father that you longed to meet. He enthusiasticly picked you up, and then pulled away because of Tim's suggestion.

"It's Red Robin's fault." Damian own hands moving and playing with a strand of your hair. The white part of your hair. "How elegant, sister."

"Stop-"

"Stop what?" Dick giggled. "We're completely sorry for how we've treated you. Tim didn't expect you to find out so soon."

"Or the fact that your power manifested like that. Who knew some teenage hormones flared like that." Tim looked at you. It was familiar and it was still that creepy look. "I'm so sorry. I should have been more forceful with the research, but i couldn't defile your body by taking DNA. I couldn't do that while you were unconscious, especially when I wasn't exactly sure how your powers worked."

Dick's covered hands moved towards your face. You shook to get away but Damian, and Stephanie kept you close. Keeping you from getting away. The strength of yours that you newly gained made you able to twist your body.

"Oh no no. Don't run away from us." Your oldest brother cupped your face. "We're family, dear sister. I've lost too many of them to the darkness. We've all bounced back, and B would cry if you left."

"So come home." Cassandra begged quietly.

"Don't make Father wait, sister."

[lillilybells]

Ruined plushes✧₊⁺

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

pairing|batfam x batsis!reader (featuring; Wally West)

summary|someone left your room door open and Damian’s cat ruined one your favorite plushies.

word count|1522

warnings|wally west x reader.

notes|this is my first fic literally ever!! Please keep that in mind.

“Oh no…” Cassandra whispered as the gray cat leapt onto the couch beside her. She had taken just a moment to rest and maybe watch a show — but no. The universe (or more specifically, Alfred the cat) had other plans. He curled up with the mangled remains of a battered plushie clutched in his claws, white stuffing clinging to his fur.

It might’ve been an adorable sight under different circumstances. But not for Cass. Not when she recognized the destroyed plush: the fluffy white bunny dressed in a Kid Flash costume — part of her sister’s cherished collection, each holding deep sentimental meaning.

She quickly scooped up the fluffy remains and rushed downstairs, skidding into the kitchen where the smell of cheese invaded her senses and the sound of soft popping echoed.

“Hey, Cass,” Dick called, glancing up. “Wanna join us in the theater room? We’re watching… well, I don’t know yet.”

He returned his attention to the snack he was making, totally unaware of the incoming emotional hurricane. He was visiting Gotham for a few days — and naturally, everyone (mainly you) had insisted he stay at the manor. And when Dick was around, Jason’s “coincidental” visits became more frequent. So with all five brothers under one roof, a movie night with excessive gore was practically a tradition.

“Uh… Dick…” Cass said.

He turned, raising an eyebrow — only for his eyes to land on the pile of ruined fabric in her outstretched hands. He choked mid-chew.

“What the hell happened?” he asked, walking over to gently take the bunny corpse from her.

“‘Alfred the cat’ happened,” she replied flatly.

Dick sighed, holding the sad remnants of cotton, red, and yellow fabric.

“And who left the door open?” he muttered — just as heavy footsteps echoed.

“What door?” came Jason’s voice as he popped a grape into his mouth, appearing behind Cass. Both siblings snapped their heads toward him.

Dick didn’t answer. Instead, he tossed the plush remains onto the counter in front of Jason, who frowned.

“Shit—Billy? That’s the first one Wally ever gave her.”

Tim entered, took one look at the counter, and let out a horrified, “Jesus!”

Duke followed, frowning at everyone’s frozen expressions. “Oh…”

And then Damian appeared, arms already crossed. “Which absolute moron left sister’s door open?”

The chaos ignited instantly.

“You’re the one always snooping around her room!” Tim snapped.

Damian scowled. “I would never make such a trivial mistake. It was clearly Richard or Todd — they’re the temporary residents.”

Jason threw his hands up. “I’ve been here for like, an hour.”

“And I barely even remember which room is hers!” Dick lied with a completely unconvincing expression. Damian squinted.

“Don’t even look at me,” Cass said firmly.

They all obeyed, promptly turning to Duke.

“Seriously? It’s not me! I always close the door,” he insisted, but his panic didn’t exactly help his case.

“Well, someone’s gotta take the fall,” Tim muttered, inching away.

“Which would be you — you’re her favorite,” Dick said, arms crossed.

Tim opened his mouth to object, but Damian beat him to it.

“That’s debatable,” he muttered, arms folded tighter.

“Yes, Spawn. You should take the blame,” Jason jumped in quickly.

“He’s right — it’s your cat,” Tim added. Damian looked ready to commit a felony.

“Don’t you dare bring Alfred into this! He’s the least responsible for this treachery!”

“Okay, okay — let’s not repeat the dinosaur incident,” Dick cut in with wide eyes. Everyone flinched a little at the memory.

Tim suddenly turned on him. “Wait — she’s known you forever. You’re clearly the favorite!”

“Excuse me?! She’s known Jason for pretty long as well, and she practically explodes when he visits!”

“How would you even know that—?”

“Nope! Not blaming me! I’ve already died once—”

A collective groan filled the room before Jason could finish that sentence.

“What about Cass?” Tim suggested. “Sisters don’t stay mad at each other for more than like- a day.”

“First, that’s not true. Second, no.” Cass said firmly.

They all sighed. No convincing her.

Then — footsteps. Alfred entered the kitchen, eyes locking onto the ruined bunny. He approached, gaze unreadable.

“And who is at fault for this?” he asked calmly.

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out. No one’s stepped up yet,” Dick replied.

“can’t you stitch it up, Alfred?” Jason suggested almost naively, wanting the situation to wrap up.

“I’m a butler, child- not a magician.” with that he picked up the bunny with delicate fingers, studied it with a faint look of mourning, and muttered, “Even my grandmother couldn’t fix this. Good luck.”

He dropped it back on the marble and turned to leave, the click of his shoes echoing ominously.

The silence lingered for a beat too long.

“Was that weird to anyone else?” Tim asked. “It was, right?”

“Pennyworth abandoning us in our time of need? Disturbing,” Damian agreed with a grim nod.

“Guys, focus,” Dick said. “Who does (Name) let get away with the most bullshit?”

All heads turned to Duke.

His eyes widened. “No. Nope. Not happening.”

“At least break the news to her—”

The doorbell rang.

Everyone froze.

“Duke, we don’t have time!” “Be a team player!” “Take one for the team!”

“NO—!”

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

They gathered in the main hallway, Duke at the back, clutching the ruined plush behind his back like it might explode.

“Oh—hey guys. This is so sweet, you’re all here,” you said, smiling at the full sibling lineup, all offering awkward waves and forced grins.

You brushed it off and tugged Wally inside. “Hey guys…” he said, smiling uncertainly at their unnerving silence.

“I don’t know what’s worse — that you’re dating my sister or that you wear your costume on dates,” Damian muttered.

“We don’t know that’s the worst part,” Jason started before getting smacked.

“We ran into a robbery,” you explained. “Wally stepped in, and I told him he could clean up and stay over. Since everyone’s here, we thought—slumber party!”

They exchanged tense glances. No one smiled.

“Okay—what’s going on?” you asked, suspicious now, hands on hips and head tilted.

“Is it because of Wally?” You asked. “Because he can leave-”

“Hey!” The ginger protested snapped.

“No, it’s not because of Wally,” Dick said gravely with a sigh. He walked up to you like he was delivering the news of someone dying, placing both hands on your shoulders. “Duke has something to tell you.”

Duke was shoved forward. With a dramatic inhale, he slowly revealed the bunny.

Silence.

You stared. And then… your lip wobbled, and eyes glossed over.

“Baby—don’t cry,” Wally was the first to speak up, hugging you gently.

The room burst into chaos.

“I’m so sorry—” “It was an accident!” “I told them to close the door—”

you on the other hand could only be described by one word- hysterical.

“Why would— do this—i always tell— keep the door close— Billy— the first you ever— our first date—” none of them could fully make out what you were saying through the sniffles and the sobs but they definitely understood, understood very well.

Wally looked like he was going to cry too. “It’s okay babe- I’ll find another one! I’ll get you thirty—I mean.. I think they’re discontinued.. — I’ll steal one from a toddler if I have to!”

“you don’t get it Wally! This- this holds so much sentimental value you don’t understand- it reminds of you when you’re gone- when I’m worried about you-” you ranted, your tone getting more agitated and angry even through the weeps.

“It’s true,” Tim muttered, “She hugs it while ugly crying whenever she misses you…”

They eventually moved to the living room, where you continued to rant. Jason tried a joke about how no one cried like this when he died. A pillow hit his face before the words were fully out.

Bruce wandered up from the Batcave, bleary-eyed, ready for bed — only to find his kids in the middle of emotional carnage.

“What the hell is going on…”

He was quickly caught up. You ended up curled beside him, ranting while he patted your hair and validated every single complaint.

“They never listen, Dad! And now Billy is gone! The symbol of a huge milestone — gone! It’s blasphemy! And they just sit on their asses-”

“Language.”

“Butts, while denying any accountability! It’s rude.”

“They’re being mean to you?” Bruce asked, voice soft and rumbly.

You nodded in his chest.

“You can’t be mad at them forever, sweetheart. People make mistakes. And Billy… Billy will be remembered.”

“yea babe- what he said, i promise ill get you a thousand more! you won’t even remember what happened to Billy..” Wally added his own two cents.

You sniffled. He reached for your thigh comfortingly — only to flinch under a Batglare and retract his hand.

“Okay!” Dick stood with a clap. “How about we go watch Sinners, and let Billy… rest in peace.”

Grumbling agreements followed.

The night ended in bickering, snacks, laughter, and sleepily leaning on each other — with a pile of yellow fluff forgotten in the corner.

And Alfred, standing in the shadows, watching with a faint smile.

He was the one who left the door open.

[echo-exco]

❝OH DOCTOR, THAT’S TOO HONEST! THEN PRETEND YOU DON’T HEAR ME.❞

୨⎯ ┊BATFAM X NEGLECTED!HEALER!READER ꒱

✰ ৎ──────SYPNOPSIS: all you ever wanted was a purpose. something that would give meaning to your existence, your power. healing others was the only thing that ever made you feel alive, needed… until you ended up in that awful place.

✰ ৎ────── masterlist. | prev. | next.

Gotham was a charming city.

Not for its architecture, nor its people, never its people, but for what it represented: a machine of constant pain, unpredictable, volatile. A city where you could do something truly filthy and, if you did it with the right smile, you didn’t just walk away unscathed, you walked away applauded. Gotham was charming because it suffered.

And suffering was the only honest thing humanity had left.

Masashi leaned back in the chair of his suite, one leg crossed over the other as he observed the city through the window of the building where he had temporarily settled, his fingers tapping idly against the armrest. Sirens, screams, flashing lights, helicopters flying overhead.

"Like an infected wound." He thought, with something that resembled a smile.

Gotham was a city screaming for help in every language possible, but its so-called heroes didn’t know how to do anything but slap band-aids over a gaping throat.

What a waste of time.

What annoyed him were the parasites who wanted to cleanse it. Vigilantes, justice seekers, heroes. That obsession with fixing, restoring, healing. Such absurd arrogance. Gotham was beautiful precisely because it couldn’t be fixed. Trying only deepened its fractures.

The vigilantes were a plague. Not because of what they represented—morality, hope, the rigidity of what's “right”—but because of how useless they were to those who truly wanted to build something. Their existence forced Masashi to look over his shoulder more than he liked.

It wasn’t that he feared them.

They bored him.

They interfered with his research, his work. And to him, that translated into contempt.

They almost discovered him once. Just once. And that was enough to make important decisions.

That was how he sent you away.

Y/N.

His dear one. His.

The first time he saw you, he didn’t think you were special. Just another child. Small, quiet, with that broken, lost look in your eyes that made others uncomfortable. But not him.

Masashi was fascinated by it.

You were a broken child, empty, but useful. Obedient, starving for purpose. Masashi liked that about you. You didn’t ask questions, didn’t disobey, and you looked at him as if he held all the answers. For someone like Masashi, it was almost perfect.

Then he knew. The child he had been molding all this time wasn’t just any child, you were Bruce Wayne’s daughter.

Disgust hit instantly.

Not toward you. Never toward you.

His emotions turned to annoyance. Then anger. Then a dense silence that lasted for weeks. How could someone like him have a daughter without knowing it? A part of Masashi laughed. Another part seethed. Not because of the revelation itself, but because it meant he would have to send you away.

The very existence of Bruce Wayne made him sick. And now he had to send you —his little girl, his—to that man, to someone else.

That thing he had so carefully shaped.

You weren’t Bruce’s.

You belonged to Masashi. You were his.

Masashi had wanted to laugh. Maybe hit something. Maybe both.

But in the end, he only looked at you. At that little broken thing that clung to her threads and needles as if they were her only identity. So calm. So eager to serve. So hungry for purpose. And so absolutely his.

That was when he saw it clearly.

Masashi traced a finger along the rim of his porcelain teacup. Still warm—white tea with mint. Gotham didn’t know how to appreciate subtle flavors, but he did. Just like he appreciated you.

You left because he told you to. Because you trusted him. Because you still believed he wanted what was best for you.

And he did.

But what was best for you was to return to your place, by his side.

Masashi turned his wrist and opened a folder on the table. Matte-printed photographs, hacked reports, camera captures: you entered and exited the least-used wing of the mansion, avoiding contact. Slipping through like a ghost.

No one suspected. Not even your own father.

What a fascinating family. So powerful, yet so blind. So full of justice and so incapable of seeing the rot in their own actions.

Masashi gently touched one of the photos. You had just left a pharmacy with a bag in hand. Your face was partially covered by a scarf, but he recognized the stiffness in your shoulders. That restrained expression of someone hurting from the inside out.

You were desperate.

And he knew it perfectly. His poor, sweet Y/N, suffocating and hopeless from not being able to use your powers. Not being able to feel alive must be horrible, right?

Because no one but Masashi could understand you, no one else could interpret your powers. Especially not your family of heroes.

Sending you to Gotham was risky, yes, but brilliant. If Batman discovered something, he’d be distracted. If not, you’d collapse on your own. You’d be forgotten, left aside, just another child without skills or value.

And when that happened, when abandonment took root, when your need to stitch, to heal, to feel useful became unbearable—then you’d return. Crawling if you had to. Crying if it came to that.

Because again, the pieces fit together with beautiful precision.

He watched you for so long. At first, you were just a lost child, broken, desperate for purpose. But when your powers blossomed—when those grotesquely perfect healing techniques emerged, with pain, with blood, and with that childish sense of “helping”—Masashi understood something deeper: he could mold you. Give you purpose. Make you functional. Dependent.

And you… you obeyed him. Every order. Every correction. Even when it hurt. Even when you cried. Even when you laughed. You clung to him with a blind faith that almost resembled absolute devotion. Blind. Perfect.

He made you feel useful. And that was all you needed to stay.

Now you were in Gotham. Surrounded by people who didn’t understand you, who didn’t see your power, who didn’t know you had a purpose. Who would make you feel invisible. Useless. Forgotten. It was perfect. Eventually, you would need to use your ability. You’d crave it. It would consume you. Because your worth, your whole life, depended on it. And when you used it wrong, when you hurt others thinking you were helping, when your hands left scars instead of cures…

Then you could start to break.

Masashi allowed himself a calm smile. He closed his eyes for a moment, as if savoring it.

He still remembered when you used to scold him with your brows furrowed because he wasn’t “following protocol.” It was funny because you’d puff your cheeks like you were playing at being an adult. A little girl pretending to be serious. And still, so precise. So dedicated. So… his.

“It’s adorable.” He murmured to himself with mocking tenderness, intertwining his fingers with surgical care. “That thought of yours... believing you’re saving lives. Thinking that makes you good. Thinking you're in control.”

He found it endearing. Touching, even. And he couldn’t wait to see you crumble when you realized it was all a lie.

That you never had a choice.

That you weren’t even a complete person.

Just a weapon.

His weapon.

His, again.

Masashi smiled, almost fondly.

Gotham was charming, yes.

But even more charming was how it devoured its own.

And you, his sweet Y/N, were about to be devoured.

Masashi wanted this moment etched in your mind. He had sent you to Gotham so you would remember him.

And it was time to come for you.

Masashi knew he would go after you.

Not because you were ready.

But because you would think you were.

Because that was the perfect moment. When you believe you’re making a choice, when you think you’re choosing—that’s when the success of a mold is truly tested. Not when someone obeys out of fear. Not when someone obeys out of need.

But when they believe they obey by their own will.

And he had worked toward that all along. That was the goal. Not to break you with force, but to make you collapse from within and still look at him with devotion.

Like a dog rescued from a burning house running into the arms of the man who set it on fire.

Masashi could wait for you. He knew you’d come. Maybe with wounds. Maybe with tears. Maybe covered in blood.

But you’d come.

Because no one else would understand what you’d done. No one would know why it hurt so much not to help. No one would see your scars as acts of love.

Only him.

The thought made him smile.

Not because he needed you.

Masashi didn’t need anything from you. Not your affection. Not your voice. Not your gratitude. He already owned you. Every part of you. Every decision. Every thought.

But if you returned.

If you crossed that door on your own, no orders, no chains, no begging...

Then it would be real.

His masterpiece would be complete.

And you... you would think you had chosen him.

“Come for me, Y/N.” He whispered into the darkness of his study, eyes fixed on the monitor where your trembling silhouette exited a pharmacy, alone. “Do it yourself.”

“Make me real.”

Because if you chose him, if your voice called for him, if your hands touched him like it was right...

Then there’d be no denying the truth.

You weren’t his victim.

You were his.

Because nothing is sweeter to a master than a pet who returns by her own will.

The trip back felt longer than it really was.

Maybe it was the accumulated exhaustion. Or maybe it was the anticipation. Because Duke had been waiting weeks, if not months, for this moment. And not just to return home, to his room, to his city. This time was different. This time, he was coming back with a purpose he hadn’t anticipated.

The mission was only supposed to last a couple of weeks. A request for international aid, evacuation, containment, the usual. Just one of many favors extended to allied cities when they couldn’t handle an outbreak, a disaster, or a social crisis on their own. But bureaucratic delays, unstable weather, and an unexpected surge of meta-human activity in Eastern Europe turned his short assignment into a long, tense stretch, where every day felt like a forced extension of the last.

Still, even in the middle of the chaos—even when the radio failed, even when the reports mentioned missing civilians, even when he had to sleep in makeshift shelters beneath collapsed structures—he couldn’t stop thinking about it. About you.

The news had come with the kind of simplicity that important things often have when said by someone who doesn’t understand their weight.

“We have a new sister. She lives with us now.”

It was a message from Dick, short and without context, as if he were announcing a grocery run. Duke read it three times before reacting. First he frowned. Then he blinked. After that, he simply froze, as if waiting for the phone to buzz again—this time with a joke, a clarification, an explanation. Nothing came.

He stared at the screen. His distorted reflection in the glass, marked by dark circles and raised eyebrows.

A new sister. Just like that.

And technically, it wasn’t like he didn’t already have sisters. Cassandra, Stephanie, even Barbara, if you counted the way everyone spoke of her with such casual closeness. But none of them had joined the family from scratch. None had been a younger sister in the truest sense. They had all come with their own traumas, their own broken pasts, their visible (or invisible) scars.

But you… you were different.

Young. Almost Damian’s age, they told him. You had no training. You weren’t a vigilante. You hadn’t been rescued from a criminal organization or a violent past, and you didn’t seem to be connected to the usual madness that followed the family. You were just… there. As if you'd been left on the doorstep and Bruce had simply said, “It’s fine. She stays.”

At first, that idea confused him. What kind of girl ends up living with Bruce Wayne? What were the adoption criteria now? Where was the tragic backstory? The loss? The dramatic turning point?

But then he thought it through. And he started to feel excited.

Because for the first time, maybe they had a sister who hadn’t been broken before arriving. Someone who wouldn’t look at them with the tired eyes of someone who had already lost everything. Someone who could learn to love them, not as fellow soldiers or fractured figures to fear or admire, but simply as brothers.

He promised himself he’d get it right with you. He’d introduce himself with a smile, maybe a gift. He’d apologize for not being there from the beginning, but do everything he could to catch up. He even began making a mental list of things he could bring you: books, candy, a stuffed animal if you were very young. Would you like music? Comics? Did you have a favorite character? Favorite colors?

During one of his transfers, he took out his phone and texted Tim. Just to be sure.

“Hey. What do you think our new sister might like? Her name was Y/N, right?”

The reply took a while. Long enough for unease to creep in.

Finally, Tim answered:

“Who? Y/N? I don’t know… I think anything’s fine.”

Duke blinked. Pressed his lips together. Texted again:

“What does she like to do? Colors? Books, movies, music, anything?”

The silence lasted even longer this time.

Until the response came:

“She doesn’t bother anyone. She’s quiet. Doesn’t cause problems. Give her anything, she’ll probably be fine.”

And that’s when Duke felt it, an unexpected sting.

Not jealousy. Not annoyance. Something deeper. Colder.

Concern.

Because that wasn’t a description. It wasn’t a thoughtful answer. It was what someone says when they don’t actually know. It was what people say about someone they’ve barely looked at.

And it didn’t make sense. If you’d been living in the manor for so long, how was it possible that no one knew anything concrete? No hobbies? No funny stories? No quirks? A weird phrase? Something?

He thought about how everyone talked about Damian. Or Cass. Even Jason. There was always something. There was always context. But with you, there was only a void.

And the more he thought about it, the more uncomfortable he became. Not because it was odd, but because it forced him to ask a question he didn’t want to ask: What if they’ve been ignoring her?

When he got to Gotham, instead of heading straight to the manor, he stopped by a quiet café, sat by the window, pulled out his phone and started searching.

News. Rumors. Photos. Blogs. Anything.

Bruce Wayne adopting a girl, that kind of news should’ve been everywhere. A media bomb. The usual circus. But this time… nothing. Almost nothing at all.

And what little he found was worse than scandal: it was passive-aggressive criticism, veiled mockery. Cruel comments. “The bland new addition.” “Some random girl.” “Looks more like the help than a daughter.” Some headlines were more offensive, others simply dismissive. But they all agreed on one thing: you didn’t stand out.

You were invisible.

And that hurt. Not for him. For you.

Because to be defamed, at least someone has to be watching. But to have nothing… that means you’re completely disposable in the world’s eyes.

He wanted to believe it wasn’t true. Maybe it was part of a plan to protect you. Maybe you’d asked for privacy. Maybe the media just hadn’t caught a clear photo. But then he remembered Tim’s messages, the dry way he answered, the lack of stories, the absence of detail, of warmth.

And suddenly, the idea didn’t feel so far-fetched.

What if it wasn’t the media ignoring you?

What if everyone was?

How quiet, how invisible did you have to be for even the nosiest family in Gotham to be unable to describe you in more than five empty words?

That’s when he made his decision.

It wasn’t just excitement. It wasn’t simple curiosity. It was something bigger. A necessity.

He was going to get to know you. For real. With time, with patience, with intention. Not just as someone who lived under the same roof—but as his little sister.

Because if no one else had bothered to really see you, then he would.

And nothing, not distance, not lost time, not the silence that surrounded you, was going to change that.

Sure, maybe his mind was playing tricks on him. But Duke would make sure to truly see you. It was his duty and responsibility as your big brother.

One he would gladly accept.

Bruce wasn’t a stranger to insomnia. Or to cold coffee, misprinted reports scattered across his desk, or endless searches that led to nothing but empty streets and blurred faces. He had lived his whole life with those things. But that night—and many before it—he realized something was different. This time, he wasn’t just chasing a ghost. He was turning his back on someone real.

His daughter.

His daughter. The word still lodged in his chest, too large and too fragile to hold. Not out of shame, or doubt, but because of what it meant.

He didn’t know how he was supposed to act around you. He didn’t know what to say to you. He didn’t know how to look at you without feeling like he owed you a debt he would never be able to repay. Because you were there, in the mansion, under his roof, among his family… and he didn’t have a single memory with you. Nothing. Just paperwork. A DNA test. A young face in a photograph taken without care. A medical history that felt more empty than complete.

He didn’t have stories from when you were a child. He didn’t know if you had a favorite stuffed animal. If you liked to sleep with the lights on. If you were ever afraid of storms. If you had been sick and no one noticed. If someone had taught you how to read. He didn’t know if you liked hot chocolate or preferred tea. If you woke up early. If you were scared of bats.

He didn’t know anything.

And that destroyed him more than he was willing to admit.

He could pretend he was busy. That the city needed him. That the looming threat that had begun to stir overseas—that faceless, nameless shadow—was more urgent. And, in part, it was.

There was something out there. Something that moved with precision, that knew how to cover its tracks, that manipulated medical, financial, even governmental networks with a level of control he hadn’t seen in years. Something that had been right under his nose, and now was starting to knock at Gotham’s door.

It had started as a rumor. A clandestine medical operation with impossible results. Then a series of disappearances disguised as voluntary transfers. Patients who never returned. People who reappeared healed, yes, but with vacant expressions and wounds sealed in ways that defied logic. Then, an unsigned file. A lead that went nowhere. Just a face distorted by the digital fog of an old camera. No name. No fingerprint. No record in any country. Just a few dead doctors who, in hushed voices, had spoken a single word: him.

And every time Bruce took a step forward, something pushed him two steps back. Databases locked. Footage disappeared. Witnesses recanted. Someone was cleaning up the trail in real time. Someone extremely intelligent. Extremely meticulous. Extremely dangerous.

And still… that wasn’t the real problem.

The real problem was that Bruce couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that you had spent years close to someone like that.

Because while the data on that man was a black hole, yours was, too. Every attempt to reconstruct your life led to a wall: medical records redacted, schools that didn’t exist, false addresses. Everything had been carefully erased. The only constant was a name, scribbled on one of the first files: the mother.

That woman.

Bruce clenched his jaw. Closed the file.

He didn’t like holding grudges. He’d learned that anger made him careless. But deep down, he couldn’t help the sting that rose every time he thought of her. Not for keeping him out of the equation. Not for denying him the chance to raise you as his daughter from the start. But for the danger she had put you in.

If your mother had just said something. A letter. A message. A signal. Bruce would’ve moved heaven and earth to protect you both. He’d done more for less. But no. Instead, you, his daughter, had reached him like a distant echo, like a consequence no one had bothered to explain fully.

And now, you were here. In the same house. Sleeping under the same roof. Eating at the same table. Walking through the same halls.

And he knew nothing about you.

Not even your favorite color.

All he knew was that you were quiet. That you never asked for anything. That you locked yourself in your room and avoided everyone. That your siblings treated you with the empty politeness people offer to a well-mannered stranger. That you didn’t complain. That you didn’t make noise.

And somehow… that was the worst part.

Because Bruce recognized that kind of silence. He had seen it before. In children trained to obey without speaking. In victims who had learned to make themselves invisible to survive. In himself, when he was a child and Gotham had torn everything away from him and the only thing he could control was his own silence.

He didn’t want you to be like that.

He didn’t want you to feel like a shadow in your own home.

But he couldn’t go to you. Not now. Not while that thing, that man, that something, was still out there, lurking from the shadows. He couldn’t risk getting distracted. He couldn’t promise you time and then fail you. He couldn’t say I’m here when every part of his mind was caught in that case without a face, without a voice, without a trail.

So he watched from afar.

Sometimes he heard your steps on the ground floor. Or saw you passing by on the security monitors. Sometimes his reports showed up neatly organized on his desk, someone had brought them, and he’d find a note in simple handwriting: Thank you for letting me stay here. No signature. Just that. Short. Calm.

Too calm.

And every time Bruce read those words, he swore he’d fix it. That he just needed time. He just needed to find that man. That ghost. Take him down. Stop him.

And then—

Then he’d give you every minute. He would learn everything about you. Ask how you liked your breakfast. Teach you what it meant to be part of a family. To fight, if you wanted. To defend yourself. He would tell you about your mother, about the Waynes, about the mistakes he’d made. He would tell you that you didn’t have to be useful to stay. That you didn’t have to be quiet to be loved. That you are his daughter, and that’s enough.

Bruce leaned over the files. Closed the notebook filled with nameless leads. Took a deep breath. He wanted to be with you. Wanted to sit beside you and ask how your day had been. See if you liked storybooks. Take you to the park. Help with your homework. Ask if you had a favorite friend. If you were afraid of the dark. If you wanted a bat-shaped nightlight.

But he couldn’t.

Not yet.

Not while that man, that someone, was still loose. Not while he didn’t know who he was. Not while he couldn’t guarantee that his daughter was completely safe.

Because this time, it wasn’t Robin. It wasn’t Nightwing. It wasn’t a vigilante.

You were just a child.

And Bruce swore he would do whatever it took to make sure you could stay that way.

Even if he had to hunt a ghost first.

But first…

First, he had to find that man.

First, he had to get him out of the way.

And then, with everything clean, everything quiet, with the shadows gone, he could finally be a father.

Someone better.

Someone you deserved.

After all, Bruce still had time to get to know his daughter.

And he would make sure of it. Personally.

taglist. ( closed ! )

@prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue @victoria1676 @ithoughtthinks @maybeethan69 @moonsunlights @ghostxmio @niamcarlin @mys0cksrwet @joseylouge @kore-of-the-underworld @lithiumval @ryuushou @jellystar-star @bbsaeko @sadeem575 @buckturd @justonerandomreader @amaryilia @shycreatorreview @galaxypurplerose @hearts4mica @lonely-entity @bronermalls @justafank @theholyharp @jjoppees @raiyuxa @bbmgirll @hattersrabbit @1abi @a-lurking-fae @cristy-101 @eli-chris @kenman00001 @aaaaailo @c4xcocoa @funtimekoda14 @shrimp38 @ghostgirl-207 @yarn-mony @expressodepressogetoffmyproperty @java-lava @on-a-sugar-rush @hwaissooo @endaculi @shadowsofapastera @deaddino3 @lalana1703 @ash1 @iloveeverythingiread @sleepdeprivedcrappywriter @noone1233nobody @yuyuzi-ling @cupid73 @st4rz666 @zhentheraven @angwngss

[oddlylovingaddiction]

; Coming Full Circle

Part 1: Here , Part 2 (You’re here), Part 3: Here , Part 4: Here , Part 5: Here

Sorry that it took so long everyone, I’m close to graduation now and I’ve been busy, however I hope this is good!

CW: Reader is pregnant BUT is gender neutral only being referred to as you, if you don’t have the ability to get pregnant you do now (in this series). Neglected reader x (platonic.) bat family. Reader is probably around in your 20s (21 - 25) and is the 5th(??) oldest. READER ALSO HAS NO IDEA THAT THE WAYNE FAMILY ARE SUPERHEROS (for now…) Reader is also bit emotional because of pregnancy hormones.

TW: Past abuse in the form of emotional neglect, Pregnancy, Arguments

The Garden was warm, you could almost relax and drink your tea peacefully.

Keyword being almost. Because unfortunately you were surrounded and being interrogated by some of your siblings. Dick, Tim, Cassandra, Jason and Damian.

“Who’s your husband?” Cassandra asks curiously. You really didn’t want to tell them anything but it’s clear if you ignore them, Tim the cyber stalker will just drag it up.

“I’d like to keep my private life—.” You go to reply but Damian interrupts, “I bet you the husband is made up.” and for some reason Jason nods along. Ever since yesterday Damian has stuck by you, anywhere you go in the mansion he’s somehow lurking behind you or around you in general. You’re not sure why especially since when you woke up he had gone.

“He is real.” You scoff your face bunching up in annoyance. “Oh yeah then why isn’t he here with you right now then?” Jason questions clearly not believing you like Damian. “… we had a small fight.” You reply slowly, concern blooming on all of their faces. It feels you with a mixed feeling… happy that finally some people in your family are concerned and also annoyed because they have no damn right to look at you like that. “I thought you said it was a disagreement?” Damian argued.

“It was on his end… but I suppose it was more of a fight on mine.” You mumble embarrassed, leaning your head on your hand to cover your mouth.

“What was the fight over?” Cassandra asks and you wince. You realllyyyyy didn’t want to answer that but you don’t want them to think of the worst scenario about you and your husband.

“It… was over the colour of the nursery walls…” You whisper-mumble closing your eyes shut. “Huh?” Tim replies.

“It was over the colour of the nursery walls…” you say still whispering but not mumbling anymore. “Can you speak up? I don’t think any of us caught that.” Dick adds.

“IT WAS OVER THE COLOUR OF THE NURSERY WALLS OKAY?!” You burst out standing up quickly as you slam your hands on the table.

Everyone goes silent as you sink back into your chair hands over your face embarrassed. “That’s it? Are you serious??” Jason grunted clearly he thinks you’re insane for choosing to stay with family over the colour of some walls. And you admit “it does sound ridiculous but in my head at the time it was a lot bigger of a deal…” you feel so embarrassed.

Surprisingly Damian pats your shoulder gently while you’re slouched over, “I support you and your future divorce. Because if he can’t let you pick the wall colour then what else will he do? His lover is pregnant, he should give in.” He advises which just makes you even more embarrassed because you can’t believe you’re being comforted by a kid. Cassandra also leans in and pats you on the back as well, at this point you’re wondering if you could just bury yourself in a hole.

“This is so stupid…” Jason mutters, “Why…” Tim adds and you can hear Dick trying not to laugh at the absurdity. “Pregnancy hormones.” You can hear Cassandra whisper-mouths as a reply to Tim.

“You guys don’t have to comfort me, I know it’s dumb.” You say finally looking up at them all as Cassandra and Damian retract their hands. “If you know just go back.” Jason frowns before Dick elbows him in the ribs. “I would but it just feels too embarrassing…” you sigh. You can’t believe you’re having this conversation with people a phew years ago probably wouldn’t notice if you were dead. “Is that it?” Tim probes, he knows that there’s got to be more than you’re letting onto, which there is.

“And… because I can’t help but be worried… what if this is the first fight before it gets worse? If we are arguing now what will happen when the baby is here? What if he doesn’t love me anymore because of this?” You confess. Your husband is the closet to you and you can’t bear to imagine losing or fighting with.

“It was just one argument if he doesn’t still love you over and chooses to fight with you more, then just kill him.” Jason stated to which earned a bunch of glares from the table, minus Damian who shrugged in agreement.

“Don’t listen to Jason just divorce him if he does that.” Cassandra proposes clearly uncomfortable with the talk of murder. You laugh softly. You choose to just hum in acknowledgment of their words, a small knot tying in your heart. It feels like your head is full of lead, everything right now going on with your husband and being around your family again it’s all too much.

“I think I’m just going to go relax…” you say picking up your purse. But instead of going towards the front door you go to the nearest car. “Wait!? Where are you going?!” Dick calls after you confused as everyone stands up and follows behind you confused.

“Retail therapy.” You grin as you turn around to smile at them.

You didn’t expect them to follow you. But perhaps you should’ve. You also should’ve stayed with your husband instead of coming back to the manor.

You shake your head trying to refocus on shopping and not focus on all the things overwhelming you right now..

You immediately spot your favourite store, it was a department store that had everything from food to clothes to the strangest items you’ve ever seen in your life. The last time you went you saw a statue of Abraham Lincoln in drag, a smut book of the current president and his political opponent and a dress covered in buttons.

“What is this.” Damian pointed at the store. The store had a sort of rundown look that immediately you probably wouldn’t go in now however since you’ve been here since you were just a bored teen who used to explore Gotham without a care in the world. “A store.” You say bluntly as you walk past them and head in, not bothering to explain anymore. Of course you’re not free of them yet since they also go in with you.

The store inside is similar to a warehouse inside, the only thing separating it from being an actual warehouse is the decoration on the floors and ceilings. You decide to peak at the clothing isle first, they usually have some cute baby clothes.

It seems they have continued to follow you, Dick grabs two shirts and checks their price tags before looking at you confused, “why is everything so cheap?” He frowns. You scowl right back in reply, “Because I’m basically their only customer, Richard.” You flip your head back around and walk off determined to get to the kids section. You knew a Dick wasn’t trying to attack you personally but you loved this damn store and you wouldn’t let anyone ruin that for you.

Two items in the baby’s section stood out and you could decide which one to buy. One was a onesie, it looked liked it was based off of that one popular kid’s book caterpillar and the other being watermelon overalls. Whatever you’ll just get both. After all your kid should be well dressed and have a bunch of different choices. As you held the clothing, it felt weird to hold up such tiny articles of clothing, to know you’ll have to give birth to a little life makes you all nervous and emotional. You can feel a small lump in your throat forming, you pull out your phone and check the messages from your husband. You usually did that when you were feeling emotional it helped you calm down. You forgot that you were currently ignoring him so when you opened up the messages you just felt even worse.

New messages from: My Superhero ❤️💍

“My love, please. I’m sorry we can do your choice okay?”

“I know you’re upset but I have checked almost every hotel and they say you aren’t staying with any of them.”

“The love of my life you are very pregnant, hormonal and quite frankly a little tiny bit insane. I’m worried about you.”

Okay the insane bit was unnecessary and lowkey pissed you off all over again. You had to pull yourself out of the baby clothing section and your phone otherwise you’d end up just buying everything and calling your husband to yell at him for that line. Instead you choose to loiter around the kids section instead. Never hurts to prepare yourself for the future of the kid after all. It also seems Cassandra, Tim, Jason, Dick and Damian finally caught up to you.

“What are you looking at? Do you have another kid we don’t know about because none of those will fit right now.” Jason points out and you roll your eyes. “Just looking.” You reply. Then you suddenly glance at Damian and get a wicked idea. You think Damian suddenly got the chills because he looked up at you and realized your plan. You think the others had the same idea because they all shared the same acknowledging look.

Every outfit you, Cass and Dick picked were really cute on Damian, from little Tuxedos to everyday wear that just made him look so adorable despite his protests. While Tim’s and Jason’s were straight hilarious, Jason picked out at one point a giraffe onesie and Damian practically launched himself at Jason. The only reason he tried it on is because everyone begged him to. Through the entire process Damian scowled and complained. However he still did it anyways, Maybe he liked the attention on him. He is a kid after all.

This time Damian walks out in the last outfit you picked for him.

You really don’t know why you started to cry. Or why you ran to Damian and held him in your arms. Hell you can’t really remember a lot that happened after that, you just remember everyone looking concerned, especially Damian as he looked up at you panicked. Then you remember falling asleep in the car ride home.

[cosmosluckycharms]

Bug Like Angel

The adults are talking

Damian couldn't understand why Bruce and Dick were so obsessed all of a sudden.

They were obsessed.

with you.

If it wasn't for your little tantrum making you storm out of the house, no one would've noticed you leaving.

And he knew Jason and Tim thought the same.

The day you were forced here Dick had insisted that they'd talk to you.

The first day you came, Dick interrupted him taking care of Batcow to tell him to invite you to hang out.

During movie night, it was obvious your mind was somewhere else.

He just didn't understand why they had to interact with you, you were okay with just living with Miguel, why were you forced to be with them?

He decided to investigate further.

He made his way to the kitchen, passing by the hallway.

He noticed the newly placed pictures of you.

They were very clearly from your and your friend's social media, he recognized them from when he stalked stumbled upon you and your friend's socials.

In one photo in which Miguel was next to you, he was edited out, leaving an awkward space next to you.

As he got closer to the kitchen, he could hear you and Dick arguing.

He looked over the corner of the doorway in order to not get caught by either of you.

Your spidey senses went slightly off at that, but you ignored it, assuming it was coming from Dick.

Dick held the guitar, which was coated in stickers "Who's is this?"

You glared at him and put your hands on your hips "It's my friend's."

Dick raised an eyebrow at that "why did he even come here yesterday?"

"nunya." you tried reaching for the guitar, only for him to put it in the air, making it impossible for you to grab it

"c'mon birdie, I know you can do better than that!" Dick teased, swaying the guitar back and forth

"Don't call me that." you jumped to try and reach it and accidentally hit the counter, which made a stack of books hit the vase, domino-style.

Which in turn made a vase start to fall.

Stupid spidey-luck.

Before Damian could process it, the vase hit him on the head and shattered.

"watch it!" Damian exclaimed.

You and dick turned your heads to look at him.

You watched as Dick opened his mouth to speak, and quickly took your chance.

You kicked the back of his knees, which made him fall, and grabbed the guitar swiftly.

"bitch." you walked away, holding the guitar triumphantly

Dick sat down in shock for a moment before checking up on Damian.

"Are you alright?" Dick helped Damian up from the floor.

Damian dusted himself off "I'm fine."

Dick kept talking to him, but his voice faded out as Damian got an idea.

if he couldn't tell why Dick and Bruce were obsessed with you, he'll go straight to the source.

Damian burst into your room.

You were blasting music while journaling.

It was then he took a look at your clothes.

You were wearing an outfit he distinctly remembers you not owning.

You were wearing a red sweater, one that showed up in one of your friend's social media posts.

After a minute or two of awkward silence, you finally spoke up. "do you need anything?"

"you hurt me. Apologize." he crossed his arms in a sort of way that reminded you of Bruce

"alright. I'm sorry. Happy?" you stared at him blankly

"I'll forgive you if we socialize together." he had a poker face on, but you could tell he was slightly nervous.

You closed your journal "All alright, I'll hang out with you."

Damian looked confused like he didn't expect you to agree so fast

"I'm bored anyways, might as well. Where do you wanna go?" you got up from your bed and leaned against the wall, staring at Damian.

"Well, if you insist on this, we could go out to shop," Damian smirked

You stretched and started making your way towards your closet "All alright, just give me like 30 minutes to get ready.

"He made his way out your door.

You took a good 10 minutes choosing an outfit before deciding on one you wore once when you went to Peni's birthday, along with a friendship bracelet she made you.

You got started on your hair and makeup, not caring about the time you were taking.

You knew Damian was very punctual about time, but you didn't care.

As you were mid-way through, the door banged open and Damian barged in.

"hurry up." he glared at you

"hold on, I'm almost done." you lied

He grew impatient and started looking around your room. You couldn't fully blame him; it's a household full of detectives, obviously, they were all nosey.

He looked at one of your walls, which had a lot of pictures of you and your friends.

In one of them, you were carrying a sleeping girl. She looked around his age and was wearing a sweater of yours. Her black short hair was braided, like how yours was in the picture.

In another frame, you and all your friends were at a birthday party. He assumed it was yours, the way you had a party hat on and everyone was around you.

In some pictures you weren't even in them.

There was a couple where they were centered around a blonde-haired girl and a boy with the biggest doe eyes.

In one picture, you were all playing in a band someplace where Bruce would never let you step foot in.

"Those are my friends," you spoke, still doing your hair "I feel like you'd get along with them."

"TT as if." he scoffed, moving onto a jewelry box on the side of your vanity.

He opened it and saw a lot of themed jewelry, mostly based on spider people.

Some weren't themed, like a pair of earrings he was now holding in his hands.

You spoke up, still sitting at the vanity "Oh Can you pass me those? I feel like it's gonna complete my outfit."

He walked up to you and handed you the earrings and watched as you put them on.

Something in the corner of his eye caught his attention.

A bunch of crochet plushes on your bed.

They were themed, yet again.

You saw him staring at them"They were based on some people I know. If you want I can ask Gwen to make you one?"

Damian looked at you, slightly confused "Why would I need a plush? That is highly immature. especially since-"

You cut him off. "if this is about them being spider people I could ask her to make a robin plush."

Damian nodded at you, in a way that was so serious it made you chuckle.

Damian was growing impatient. You were taking a long time to get ready.

He walked up to you "Are you done?" he was cartoonishly thumping the floor with his foot like a certain cartoon rabbit.

"Almost, I swear!" you grabbed the perfume on your vanity and sprayed yourself.

Damian was standing next to where you were sitting, and you took that as a sign to put some of your perfume on him.

As soon as you did, he started having a coughing fit.

"what was that?!" he kept coughing and trying to wave the smell away.

You tilted your head in confusion "I thought you wanted some?"

"why would I want some of your perfume?!" his coughing fit slowed down, he was obviously dramatizing it

"oh c'mon, it wasn't that serious!" you got up and grabbed your keys.

You started making your way out your door before remembering you didn't have your purse, which had your phone and wallet.

"Dami," you said in a sing-songy voice "could you grab my purse? It's on my nightstand."

He made sure you didn't see his smile at the nickname as he made his way to your nightstand and took note of the picture frame next to your bed.

It was of all your friends + you huddled up together. You all had a birthday hat on and you had a sash that said "birthday girl".

He knew it was probably from the same birthday he saw in another picture frame earlier.

He grabbed your bag and handed it to you, relieved he was finally gonna make his way to the mall with you.

You guys made your way to the parking garage with all the cars anyone could ask for.

You picked a car, one of which you bought yourself and picked out with Miguel.

It was your favorite color.

"All alright Damian, I'll grab the car seat for you." you joked and tried to look as serious as possible

"wait what?" he watched as you went into the trunk and grabbed a princess car seat fit for a toddler.

You bought it a while ago for car rides with Mayday.

"Alright, get on." you pat the car seat, indicating for Damian to get on.

Damian pouted "I'm much too old for that"

"Are you sure? The car seat says it works until the kid is 8, you're 7 so it's fine." you tried to hide your smirk

Damian glared at you, obviously annoyed. "I am not 7! I'm 14!"

"right....." it was getting harder for you to not laugh

"I'm serious!" his voice cracked midway through the sentence, making you burst out laughing.

His face turned a little red "It's not funny!"

"You're right, I'm sorry." you were trying to calm yourself down, only to laugh out loud really loud again.

Damian tried to suppress his laughter as well, only to let out a chuckle.

"get in loser, we're going shopping." you sat down in the driver's seat and he sat down in the passenger seat.

It was silent for a moment...until you looked at Damian and started laughing for no reason.

Damian looked around confused "What's so funny?"

You tried to calm yourself down and failed "I don't know!"

You only stopped when Alfred heard what sounded to him like a hyena laughing, and went to check out the garage.

As soon as he heard the laughter coming from the car, he made his way to your windows.

As soon as you noticed him, you stopped laughing.

"master damian and mistress Y/N, where are you going?"

You glared at him, annoyed. "out to do errands."

"May I tag along? I too have errands to run. I have to-" You cut him off by pulling up the window and turning on your music.

You could see Alfred trying to talk to you, but you just put on your sunglasses and drove out.

Damian was shocked, he couldn't believe you would do that.

You blasted your music and sang and danced along, to him it felt like a scene straight out of a girly 2000s movie.

He noticed how your keys had an Araña-themed keychain.

The fuzzy dice on the driver's mirror.

The bedazzled steering wheel.

There was some trash on the floor of the passenger seat.

He could see that in the backseats there was a coloring book and random stray crayons.

The car door next to him had a bunch of stickers everywhere.

In the back seat, there was half a broken drumstick.

There was a broken guitar string somehow tied up in a bow and left on the other seat.

There were random traces of paint everywhere.

"why is it so dirty in here?" he looked at you, slightly concerned about how you were driving so well despite putting on lipgloss at the same time.

"I wouldn't call it dirty, it's just chaos. Controlled chaos." you put away your lipgloss and kept driving "Put in a new CD, I'm bored of this album."

He reached into the glove compartment and immediately noticed a ton of snacks falling out of the compartment.

"oh yeah, just ignore that. I keep those just in case," you said

"In case of what?" Damian asked, still somewhat shocked at the amount of snacks and drinks that somehow fit in there

"in case anyone wants some. If you want you can have some. There are some vegan options in there, I think." you pulled out a mascara tube and started doing your lashes.

Damian then pulled out a bag of veggie chips and started eating them.

"well? are you going to get the CD or not?" you questioned, nudging him playfully.

"I can't see them." he pointed out

You waved your hand at him "You have to dig in deep, you'll find it somewhere."

He hesitated before digging and trying to look for it.

Inside he found:

A portable DVD player, a bunch of DVDs, at least 16 business cards from random small businesses, 7 types of nail polish, 2 iPods, an iPad, 4 random band shirts, a deflated soccer ball, an empty wallet, 6 different chargers (4 of which were broken beyond repair), 5 lipglosses, 2 friendship bracelets, and finally some CDs.

"how does all of this fit in this tiny compartment?" he looked at you, concerned yet again.

"hammerspace." you said, casually

Damian looked at you blankly "What?"

"don't even worry about it." you went back to driving.

He pulled out a random one and handed it to you.

"oh, awesome! I love this album!" you placed it in the CD player.

"Why do you even use CDs? I'm sure Father could get you a new car with a working music player." Damian said, putting everything back in the glove compartment.

"I like it better like this. This car has memories and I've owned some of those cd's since I was in elementary. I just think they're neat!" you took a sip of a random drink you found in your car.

Damian raised an eyebrow at that. He didn't remember you bringing that into the car.

"I found this random water bottle here. It's either me or Margos, and it's probably 4 weeks old," you said, as if you read his mind.

you took another sip. "on second thought, this is probably Gwens."

Everything was a mess.

Yet he felt so at home.

When you guys finally got to the mall, you got to work on your errands.

You grabbed your crumpled-up paper shopping list "Alright, first we need to go to a craft store."

"Why do we need to go to a craft store?" he asked, still eating the veggie chips from earlier

"Because," you grabbed a shopping cart "I need to grab a couple of things."

As you guys made it to the crafts store, you got an idea.

"Damian," you pointed to the cart "get in the cart."

"What?" he raised an eyebrow

"get in." you smiled

"Are you serious? I can't do that!" he argued

You put your hands on your hips "I don't care. Get in the cart."

"I will not! This is foolish behavior!" he stomped

You ignored him and picked him up like a cat and placed him in the cart.

You ignored his protests and kept shopping.

After a minute or two he calmed down.

You went to the art aisle and didn't know what supplies to get Miles.

"it was a good thing I brought you, I know basically nothing about what types of markers there are." You handed Damian two options.

"well don't know, I don't use those types of materials." he handed them back

"shit. Well, I'll just get all of them." you put one of each type of marker and strolled away, cart in hand.

You made your way to the sticker aisle and immediately put a ton of stickers in the cart as well.

"Why do you need so many?" Damian asked, picking up one of the sticker packs which was Vocaloid-themed.

"Because you can never have too many stickers!" you put more in the cart and strolled away again.

By the time you got to the checkout aisle, all the things you bought made you look like one of the people from the math problems.

The cashier looked at you a bit crazy but stopped when he saw you pull out a black card.

As soon as you both made your way out the door, you dragged Damian towards a music store.

You picked out some more CDs for you and some albums for your friends.

a Babymetal album for Peni, a Frank Ocean one for Miles, the Ramones one for Hobie, Daisy and the Scouts for Gwen, and a Sza album for Margo.

You dragged Damian to other stores, most of which he hated.

To cheer him up, you decided to take him to a store you knew most 14-year-old boys liked.

A comic book store.

"Damian look at these!" you handed him an invincible comic

"TT. they're just books." he put it back in its place.

You scoffed and kept looking at the comics

"Oh my gosh! They have a limited edition Gwenpool comic! I've been looking for this everywhere!" you held it up in the air dramatically

You could tell he was pretending to be unamused. He kept looking around.You placed your Gwenpool comic in the cart

"Is this an X-Men comic? I've seen Miles read them, he says they're good."

You saw Damian perk up immediately and grab it out of your hands.

Usually, you'd be upset at his bad manners, but he looked at the comic with such childlike wonder he looked 7 years old again.

Sure, back when both of you were younger he'd threaten you and go out of his way to ignore you, but who didn't?You felt a weird sort of nostalgia.

You shook that thought away and kept looking at the comics.

By the time you guys left the bookstore, you guys had a lifetime supply of manga and comics.

"Okay, we should head back to the manor."

"it's still early? It's not even lunchtime?"

"you need your naptime, you keep yawning"

"I am not," he said, suppressing a yawn

You held his hand while making your way to the car, a force of habit from holding Peni's.

He stared at your hands" Why are you holding my hand?"

You chuckled, letting go "Sorry, force of habit."

He ignored how he missed that small sign of affection.

You both put your things in the trunk. You guys ran out of space and had to put some things in the backseat.

You guys sat down and you played your music.

After a couple of moments, Damian fell asleep.

When you guys finally got to the manor, Damian was half asleep, pretending to be fully asleep.

You smiled and started grabbing all the bags.

You picked him up and carried him out of the passenger seat princess-style and made your way to his room, ignoring Alfred trying to ask about your day.

You ran into Alfred the cat, remembering how you completely forgot he existed.

The last time you saw him, you were around 14 and Damian taught him to avoid you.

Despite how many times you'd try to pet the cat, it'd run away.

You continued to place Damian in his bed and tuck him in.

You kissed him on the forehead, accidentally leaving a lipgloss stain.

You started placing down the bags full of the things he bought, not realizing you accidentally left one of your bags in his room.

You walked out of his room, not noticing his small smile.

Now he understood why dick and Bruce liked you.

You were in your room putting your things away.

You were also putting the things you bought for your friends into gift bags.

It took a while for you to notice you were missing your Gwenpool comics and the manga you bought for Peni.

By the time you noticed, Damian barged into your room yet again.

"you forgot something." he handed you the bag, it had the things you were looking for.

"oh thank you!" you skimmed through the comic, taking in the new book smell.

He hopped onto your bed and looked at one of the plushes on your bed.

It was different from the other ones, which were all different variations of spider people, this one was a red robot.

It sort of reminded him of the robots from Evangelion.

He rolled around in your bed for a bit before sitting up.

He was bored.

You spoke up, finishing up folding your laundry "We should do something."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Oh my gosh! We should go picnicking!"

"what."

"we can cook and bake! I'm kinda hungry anyways."

"..fine."

You guys made your way to the kitchen, you grabbed your cookbook.

It was badly covered in glitter and decorated like a burn book.

As soon as you placed it down on the counter, Damian looked at you confused.

"what is it?" you asked, opening the book.

"why is it covered in glitter?"

"can a girl not be filled with joy and whimsy?"

"fair enough."

"I have an idea! We both make dishes and share them at the park."

"okay?"

Damian then started making his meal, and you made one of your own.

After an hour or two, you both had everything prepared.

You made a few drinks and meals for you and Damian. You also packed some chips just incase he didn't want the food you made.

You both got in your car and left for the park

You lay on the blanket, admiring the bright blue sky.

You pointed to a random cloud "that cloud kind of looks like a butt."

"You're childish." he laid down next to you.

"what do you think it looks like then?" you asked

"...I think it looks like a cat." he pointed out

You laughed "There's no way you see that."

A moment of silence passed through and Damian thought back to the moment with you and Alfred.

Lately, you have been acting strangely rude to him.

"Why don't you like Pennyworth?"

"what do you mean?" you asked, sitting up

"what has he done for you to treat him like that?" he sat up as well

You wanted to tell him.

You wanted to tell him about all those nights you spent sobbing to him asking why no one loved you.

You wanted to tell him about how he'd always defend the people that hurt you.

You wanted to tell him about how you could tell that he only pitied you, and didn't care.

You wanted to tell him about how you knew since the beginning he never cared about you.

You wanted to tell him about Julia, Alfred's daughter, and how he abandoned her.

You decided to stay quiet about those things.

You guys had just now started to get along, it'd be strange of you to randomly dump all your problems onto him.

"I just have a bad feeling about him," you replied

"That's all? No support to that claim or anything?"

"I mean, I am a spider-person, most of us have great intuition."

"you do?"

"yeah!"

It went silent and you decided to change the topic. You didn't wanna keep talking about Alfred

"Well, we should start eating now, right?" you asked, pulling out some Dal you had prepared earlier.

Damian pulled out some dolma he had also made.

You took a bite out of the food you prepared "This Dal is so bomb. Look, try it!"

"no. I have no idea what you could done to that food," he said, backing away from the food as if it was going to bite him

"oh, c'mon! its not that bad. look, I'll eat some so you know it's good." you took another bite of it, basically melting at the taste.

"here comes the choo choo train. Choo choo" You brought a piece to his mouth

"stop this madness at once!" he snatched the piece out of your hand and looked at it.

He hesitated before taking a bite.

"TT. This is acceptable, I suppose."

You smiled and picked him up, "he's alive! he's alive! The food didn't kill him!" Everyone around you started staring at you.

Damian tried to shut up your yelling by putting a hand over your mouth and failed.

You let him down and started laughing.

"You're embarrassing me!" he said, trying to cover up his reddened face.

After a moment of comfortable silence, he spoke up "I'm shocked you can cook."

You gasped dramatically and flopped onto the ground, holding your heart as if you were dying "You're so mean."

Damian took another bite of his dolma "Where did you learn to cook that?"

"Pav and his auntie showed me, it took a lot of trial and error but now I basically know it like the back of my hand." you sat up and took a bite of his food.

He glared at you, but you knew it had a playful undertone.

"I think I burned down his kitchen at least twice. I love his auntie." you took a sip of your drink, which was a horchata.

He looked at your drink "What's that?"

"This is horchata, I learned it from Miguel. He taught me, it's pretty good, have a sip." you handed him your drink

He hesitated a little less than last time

".. I suppose it's fine."

"Prince Damian liking my cooking? It's a miracle!" you clapped and he hit you on the shoulder, making you fall dramatically yet again.

While you both were talking, a brunette little boy came up to you both.

He looked no older than 5, and he had tears in his big black eyes.

He came up to you "Hi, I am Elijah, and I can't find my mommy. She said not to talk to strangers but I don't know what to do!"

He started bawling his eyes out, and in an attempt to calm him down, you handed him a juice box.

"Look, we'll help you find your mom, okay?" you stood up and picked up Ellijah on your hip.

Elijah was starting to calm down.

That was until Damian glared at Elijah, making him cry even harder.

You glared back at Damian, knowing that this was gonna make it harder to find his mom.

You had to make him stop crying, stat.

So, you did the only thing you knew worked for you. The things your friends did when you cried.

"..do you want a piggyback ride?"

That shut up Ellijah really quickly.

After the piggyback ride, you put him down and decided to keep chatting with Elijah.

Damian spaced out both of you talking in order to not get too mad that your time together was being interrupted.

That was until Elijah insulted Damian.

"he's a butthead!" he pointed at Damian

"if you don’t shut it, I’m going to give you a new set of holes to breathe out of." Damian said glaring at Elijah again.

"Damian," you said sternly, bringing Elijah closer to you just in case.

After half an hour his mom finally came."oh I'm so glad I found him!" his mom said, hugging Ellijah close

"Mommy!" Elijah hugged her back, making you smile.

"oh I have to pay you back!" the woman spoke, pulling out a wad of cash from her wallet

"no thank you, ma'am, I'm fine I swear," you said, refusing

"no, I insist!" she tried handing it to you, only for you to push it away.

You backed off a little "It's completely free! he's a sweet guy!"

The woman finally gave up "Do you babysit?"

"Sometimes, yeah! Do you need my business card?" you started pulling one out of your purse

You guys fell into conversation, and Damian was growing impatient.

After another 30 minutes, you both packed up everything and went home.

The car ride was silent, unlike the other times when it was filled with laughter, chatting, and music.

Once you both got to the manor, you spoke up "What was that about?!"

Damian flinched at your sudden anger "What was what about?"

"Why did you threaten a 5-year-old?" you looked him in the eyes

He crossed his arms "he insulted me."

"he called you a buttface." You pointed out

"I stand by my point," Damian said

You put your hands on your hips "Why did you get so mad over a kid? he doesn't even know his numbers!"

"I don't see your point," Damian argued

"youre insuffuerable! I get why everyone calls you a demon." you grew angrier by the second.

"You an annoyance!" Damian stomped"why are you so stubborn, Peni?!" you yelled.

You both froze at the mention of her name.

You awkwardly made your way to your room, avoiding Damian's eyes.

You didn't notice how despite his angry face, there was a tint of sadness in his eyes.

you were in your room, processing what happened after a nice everything shower.

you were doing your skincare when you got a call from Noir.

"hey doll, do you mind taking care of peni for a bit?"

"of course! did anything happen?" you said, putting the call on speaker

"no, its just that peni's been asking to hang out with you for quite a while. plus, it'd be less worrying to go out on patrol and not be scared for her." in the backround, you could make out the sound of peni getting her things ready

"No problem, peni's an angel! what time will you be getting here?"

"is 15 minutes fine?"

"of course! is it a sleepover or just like a hangout?"

"sleepover."

"alright, ill see you both later."

you spent the next 15 minutes putting on your pjs and getting everything ready.

you prepared snacks and a movie night.

you were so ready for her to come over!

15 minutes had gone by when you heard the doorbell ring.

you ran through the dark, haunted looking walls.you pushed back Dick, who was also trying to get to the door.

"I'll get it!" you basically slammed yourself against the door.

you quickly recovered and opened the door.

"Noir!" you noticed how peni wasnt next to him like she usually was "wheres peni?"

"shes getting her stuff from the car."

"thats fine, come in!" you invited him in

"thanks."

alfred and noir made conversation, and you didnt notice damian basically stalking you all

you saw through the window that peni was on her way in. you jumped from your seat on the floor you will never be worthy enough for the family couch and opened the door for her.you spun peni into a hug

"Hi angel!"

Peni laughed, smiling at how tightly ypu were hugging her.

you didnt notice damian sneaking into your room.

As soon as he got there, he ran to your plushies.

Uour stupid plushies.

He pulled out his katana and started ripping them.

He had no idea why he'd done it, he just wanted to.

He made sure to focus on the Miguel plush, he was so mad that man took you away from them.

by the time you got back to your room with Peni not that far behind, you froze looking at the plusihies.

Damian didnt look guilty.

You dragged him away from the plushies, and dodging his kicks and punches as much as you could you scolded Damian "Why would you do that?"

he stayed silent, avoiding your eyes.

you slammed the door on his face and made your way to the plushies.

you held the now mangled miguel plush in your hands, and tried to not let out any tears.

Peni picked up your Miles plushie, which was now missing an eye and got an idea:

"I can probably fix this up, if youd like?"

"Actually?"

"Yeah! noir taught me how to sew a while ago."

She started fixing them and you finished setting up everything, still angry at Damian.

Why would he do this? He was the one who started all of this.everything started off great with him, what happened?

the more you thought of it, the more angry you got.

Meanwhile, Damian was in his room processing what he had done.

He didnt know why he did it exactly.

Could it be the jealousy?

Seeing you treat others that arent related to you like family?

Seeing you treat the little boy like the baby brother you never had?

Seeing you hold Peni and Peni not resisting?seeing how happy you were with her?

He's never felt so humiliated being kicked out of your room while companies over!

He had to apologize before peni could replace him before you hated him like you hated Alfred.

He made his way to your room and heard you and peni talking.

"She said i walk like a bitch, what does that even mean?!" a high pitched voice spoke, damian assumed came from the younger girl.

"Shes so annoying. i dont even know her and she sounds stupid." you said

"She is!" the high pitched voice spoke

Damian barged in.

He saw you painting peni's nails, and a movie playing in the background.

It was legally blonde, a movie he once caught Jason watching in his apartment.

an awkward silence passed by

You looked up at him "do you need something?"

"yes." he spoke up

"..well what is it?"

"i insist she leaves." Damian pointed to Peni

you quickly hid her behind you "She is not leaving."

"Y/n-" peni tried to interject, only to be cut off by you.

"Listen, damian, she isnt leaving. whatever you have to say, you can say it to my face."

"..Fine."he took a deep breath "i apologize." he muttered, ever so quietly.

"what was that?" you said, squatting down a bit to get to his level

"I apologize!" he put his head down in embarrassment

"Was that so hard?" You put you hands on your hipsyou took a deep breath "Okay, its whatever."

you continued "Im also sorry for getting so mad at you. and for calling you by Peni's name."

"You did what now?" Peni said, suprised.

"It's a long story." you started kicking damian out of your room.

The last thing he saw in your room was the now stitched up plushies.

As soon as he got out, you started talking to peni.

"Peni, please be careful around him."

Peni looked at you, confused "What do you mean?"

You opened a nail polish "He threatened a literal 5 year old."

Peni looked at you, bewildered "what?"

it was 3 in the morning when Peni got thirsty.

She knew that most likely, every one of your family members would be on patrol.

She started making her way out your room, making sure you didnt wake up.

Even though you were a heavy sleeper, she didnt wanna wake you up.

She knew her way around the manor, you've prevously hosted small get togethers with the spider-gang without anyone noticing.

As soon as she got to the kitchen, she noticed how damian was there.

She knew you had told her to be careful around him.

She tried sneaking around him, only for him to sneak up on her.

"Boo." Peni jumped at Damian scaring her.

"You scared me."

As she was about to yell at him, she felt something brush past her leg.

a little black and white cat.

"Awww, what a cutie!" She picked him up.

Damian was about to protest, knowing that alfred the cat usually would attack when picked up.

It caught him off guard how calm the cat was.

She put her hand out to him "I'm Peni."

He shook her hand "I know. Im Damian."

"He usually doesnt tolerate newcomers." He spoke

"Well, he can probably sense how i have a cat." Peni pet Alfred.

Damian's eyes lit up at her words "You do?"

"Yep! noir has a cat named Ding Ding, she's so sweet." Peni's eyes also lit up at being able to talk about it.

They both started talking about little cat facts, sitting on the kitchen floor.

They only stopped when they heard a certan voice.

"Can you guys shut up? It's literally 3 am." you rubbed your eyes, half asleep.

"Y-yeah, we'll be quiet, sorry." Peni prayed youd forget the warning you gave her to be careful around Damian.

You turned around to go back to bed, only to walk back when you remembered.

You started lightly scolding Peni about not hearing your warning, with Damian trying not to laugh.

Peni glared at Damian and spoke up "listen, im fully unharmed, see?"

You realised you were overreacting and took a deep breath. "youre right, im sorry. i just got all worried."

you quickly bear hugged her "Im so sorry angel, I wont do this again!"

"Y/n!" Peni laughed as quietly as she could.

"C'mon guys, lets head to bed." You picked them both up by the scruff of the neck, suprising Damian

"Put me down at once! Stop this nonsense!" He tried thrashing around.

He looked at Peni to see if she was doing the same thing, only to see her acting like this was normal between them.

You dropped Damian off at his room and brought peni to yours.

Damian ended up sneaking into your room an hour later

oh my god this is ass lmfao

if it feels rushed thats cause it was i was loosing motavation to finish this

im sososo sorry for the mistakes its like 3 am rn

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