holybatflapexpert

[holybatflapexpert]

In another universe again

Promise?

The Wayne Manor was a labyrinth of secrets, its towering walls steeped in history and whispers of the past. You’d grown up within those walls, a daughter of the Wayne legacy, twin to Damian, the son destined to inherit the mantle of Robin. But where Damian was sharp edges and fierce determination, you were a shadow, slipping through the cracks of a family that never seemed to notice you were there.

You were Y/N Wayne, the other half of a pair, but to the Batfamily, you were an afterthought. Bruce, your father, was a man consumed by his mission, his eyes always fixed on the horizon of Gotham’s endless night. Dick was the golden son, too busy charming the world to see you fading. Jason, with his jagged edges, spared you fleeting glances but never lingered. Tim was lost in his own mind, his coffee-fueled nights leaving no room for you. And Damian—your twin, your mirror—carried the weight of expectations you could never touch. He was the heir, the prodigy. You were just… you.

The neglect wasn’t loud. It was quiet, insidious, like a slow bleed. A missed birthday here, a forgotten promise there. Training sessions where you were left to spar with dummies while Damian was molded by Bruce’s hands. Family dinners where your seat was filled with silence, your voice drowned by their laughter. You tried to be seen, to be heard. You trained harder, studied longer, patched your own wounds after patrols. But the harder you tried, the more invisible you became.

Then came Lila.

She arrived like a burst of sunlight, a foster girl with wide eyes and a smile that disarmed even the coldest hearts. The Batfamily welcomed her with open arms. Dick ruffled her hair, Jason taught her to throw a punch, Tim helped her with homework, and Bruce—*Bruce*—smiled at her in a way you’d never seen directed at you. Even Damian, your stoic twin, softened around her, his rare laughter echoing through the manor.

Lila was everything you weren’t. She was wanted.

You watched from the sidelines as they showered her with affection, their voices bright with praise. “Lila’s a natural,” Dick would say. “She’s got heart,” Jason added. “She’s one of us,” Tim declared. And you? You were the ghost in the room, your presence barely acknowledged. The realization settled in your chest like a stone: you were worthless to them.

The doubt crept in slowly, then all at once. Why weren’t you enough? Were you too quiet, too weak, too *you*? You spent nights staring at the ceiling of your room, the weight of their indifference pressing down until you couldn’t breathe. You stopped joining them for meals, stopped waiting for them to notice you. They didn’t.

The kidnapping was almost a relief.

It happened on a rainy Gotham night, the kind where the city seemed to drown in its own despair. You and Lila were grabbed off the streets, thrown into a van before you could react. The world went dark, and when you woke, you were in a warehouse, wrists bound, the air thick with the scent of rust and fear. Lila was beside you, her face pale but defiant, her eyes darting to the cameras mounted on the walls.

The kidnappers were professionals, their faces hidden behind masks. They spoke in clipped tones, their words broadcast live to the city. “The Batfamily has one hour to choose,” their leader said, his voice cold as steel. “One girl lives. One dies. Make your choice, or we kill them both.”

You knew what would happen before it did. You saw it in the way Bruce’s voice crackled through the comms, calm but strained. You saw it in the way Dick hesitated, his eyes flickering to Lila. You saw it in the way Jason’s jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on the girl who’d become their sister in all but blood.

“We’re coming for you,” Bruce said through the feed, his words meant for both of you but landing on Lila like a lifeline. “Hold on.”

The clock ticked down. The kidnappers paced, their guns glinting under the flickering lights. Lila whispered to you, her voice trembling. “They’ll save us, Y/N. They have to.”

You wanted to believe her, but the truth was a blade in your gut. You’d always been the one left behind.

When the Batfamily arrived, it was with the precision of a military strike. Batman led the charge, Nightwing and Red Hood flanking him, Red Robin and Robin covering the exits. They moved like shadows, neutralizing the kidnappers with ruthless efficiency. But when the moment came—when the leader grabbed you and Lila, a gun to each of your heads—they froze.

“Choose!” the leader roared, his finger twitching on the trigger. “Now!”

Bruce’s eyes met yours through the haze of smoke and chaos. For a moment, you thought he saw you—really saw you. But then his gaze shifted to Lila, and you knew.

“Save her,” he said, his voice steady, final.

The world slowed. Dick lunged for Lila, pulling her from the kidnapper’s grip. Jason tackled the man holding her, his fists a blur. Tim and Damian cleared the room, their focus on the girl who mattered. You were still there, the gun pressed to your temple, your heart a hollow drum.

They’d chosen her.

The cameras were still rolling, broadcasting every second to Gotham and beyond. You looked into the lens, your reflection staring back—a girl forgotten, a shadow no one would mourn. You thought of the manor, of the family that had never been yours. You thought of Damian, your twin, who hadn’t even glanced your way.

The kidnapper’s voice was a low growl in your ear. “Looks like you’re the one they don’t need.”

You didn’t flinch. You didn’t cry. You just stared into the camera, your lips parting to whisper one final word.

“Goodbye.”

The gunshot echoed through the warehouse, a single, deafening crack. The world went black.

The echo of the gunshot hung in the air, a jagged wound in the silence of the warehouse. The cameras, cold and unyielding, captured every moment—the blood pooling beneath your motionless body, the kidnapper stepping back, the world watching as Y/N Wayne, the forgotten daughter, became a ghost before their eyes.

Bruce Wayne—Batman—stood frozen, his cape a heavy shroud around him. His mind, always calculating, always planning, had betrayed him. He’d made the call, the tactical choice: save Lila, neutralize the threat, then save you. It was supposed to be clean, precise. But the plan had unraveled, and now you were gone. His daughter, his *child*, lay dead because of him. The weight of it pressed against his chest, a suffocating force that no kevlar could shield. He stared at your body, the camera’s red light mocking him, broadcasting his failure to Gotham. He wanted to move, to cradle you, to scream, but Batman didn’t break. Bruce Wayne, though—he was shattering.

“No…” The word slipped from Dick Grayson’s lips, barely a whisper, as he stumbled forward. Nightwing, the heart of the family, was unraveling. He’d been the one to pull Lila to safety, his hands gentle but firm, his focus on the girl they’d all come to love. But now, as he looked at you, your eyes still open, staring into the void of the camera, guilt clawed at him. He’d promised to protect you, hadn’t he? All those years ago, when you and Damian came into their lives, he’d vowed to be the big brother you needed. Yet he’d let you fade, let you slip through the cracks. “Y/N, I’m sorry,” he choked, falling to his knees beside you, his gloved hands hovering over your still form, afraid to touch what he’d already lost.

Jason Todd’s rage was a living thing, coiled and ready to strike. Red Hood had taken down the kidnapper who held Lila, his fists a blur of vengeance. But when the shot rang out, when he saw you crumple, something inside him broke. He’d always seen you as the quiet one, the kid who patched her own wounds and never asked for anything. He’d meant to check on you, to pull you into his orbit, but there was always another mission, another fight. Now, he stood over your body, his helmet hiding the tears burning his eyes. “You bastards,” he snarled, his voice cracking as he rounded on Bruce. “You *chose* her over your own kid!” He wanted to hit something, to tear the world apart, but all he could do was stare at you, the sister he’d failed, and feel the weight of his own worthlessness.

Tim Drake’s mind was a storm of data, replaying every second, every decision, searching for the moment it all went wrong. Red Robin was supposed to be the strategist, the one who saw every angle. But he hadn’t seen you. Not really. You were always there, a quiet presence in the Batcave, working beside him in silence while he buried himself in cases. He’d noticed your absence at dinners, your retreat from the family, but he’d told himself you were fine. You were strong. You didn’t need him. Now, as he knelt beside Dick, his hands trembling as he scanned your vitals—knowing it was pointless—he felt the full force of his neglect. “I should’ve… I should’ve checked on you,” he murmured, his voice hollow. The cameras caught his failure, too, and he knew the world would judge him. He deserved it.

Damian Wayne, your twin, stood apart, his katana still in hand, blood dripping from its blade. Robin was trained to be unyielding, to prioritize the mission above all else. But you were his other half, the shadow to his light, the one who understood the weight of being Talia’s child in a world that didn’t want you. He’d pushed you away, told himself it was to protect you from his own darkness, but the truth was uglier: he’d been too proud, too focused on proving himself. Now, as he looked at your lifeless body, your blood staining the concrete, something inside him fractured. “Ukhti,” he whispered, the Arabic word for sister slipping out, a plea and a prayer. He didn’t move toward you. He couldn’t. If he did, he’d have to face the truth: he’d failed you, just like the rest of them.

Lila, the girl they’d chosen, stood trembling in Dick’s arms, her wide eyes fixed on your body. She didn’t speak, didn’t cry, but the guilt was there, etched into her face. She’d been the one they saved, the one they loved, and now your death was her shadow. The cameras caught her, too, the girl who’d taken your place, and Gotham would whisper her name with scorn.

Bruce finally moved, his steps heavy as he approached you. He knelt beside you, his gloved hand reaching out to close your eyes, a gesture too late to matter. “Y/N,” he said, his voice low, broken. “I thought… I thought there was time.” But there hadn’t been. He’d calculated wrong, prioritized wrong, and now his daughter was gone. The world watched, and he felt their judgment, but it was nothing compared to the war raging inside him. He was Batman, the protector of Gotham, but he couldn’t protect his own child.

The Batfamily stood in a fractured circle around you, each grappling with their own guilt, their own failure. The cameras kept rolling, the live feed searing your death into Gotham’s memory. The city would mourn you, the forgotten Wayne, but the family who’d lost you would carry the weight forever.

Dick’s hand rested on your cold cheek, tears streaming down his face. “We didn’t see you,” he whispered. “God, Y/N, we didn’t see you.”

Jason’s fists clenched, his voice a raw growl. “This isn’t over. Whoever set this up—they’re gonna pay.”

Tim’s head bowed, his mind still racing, still searching for a way to undo the impossible. “I’m sorry,” he said again, the words useless against the void.

Damian’s grip on his katana tightened, his voice barely audible. “You deserved better, ukhti.”

Bruce remained silent, his hand lingering on your face, the weight of his choice a noose around his neck. He’d failed you, just as he’d failed Jason, just as he’d failed Gotham too many times before. But this—this was different. This was his daughter, and he’d let you die.

The warehouse was silent now, save for the hum of the cameras and the distant wail of sirens. The Batfamily stood over your body, a family broken by their own hands. They’d chosen Lila, and in doing so, they’d lost you.

And Gotham watched, its heart as cold and unforgiving as the night

Bruce Wayne knelt beside you, his hand still resting on your closed eyes, as if he could will you back to life. His mind was a battlefield, replaying every second of the night—his choice, his hesitation, his failure. He’d chosen Lila because she was the civilian, the one they’d welcomed into their home, the one who’d seemed so fragile. But now, as he looked at your lifeless form, a gnawing doubt clawed at him. Something was wrong. The kidnappers’ precision, the cameras, the broadcast—it was too orchestrated, too perfect. His instincts, honed by years as Batman, screamed that this was no random crime.

“Bruce,” Tim’s voice cut through the haze, sharp and urgent. He was crouched by one of the kidnappers, a tablet in hand, his fingers flying across the screen. “You need to see this.” His face was pale, his eyes wide with something that looked like fear. Bruce rose, his movements mechanical, and joined Tim. The screen displayed a series of encrypted messages, traced back to an unlisted server. The sender’s codename was innocuous—*Starling*—but the content was damning. Instructions for the kidnapping, coordinates for the warehouse, even the exact wording of the ultimatum: *Make the Batfamily choose.* And at the bottom, a single line that turned Bruce’s blood to ice: *Eliminate Y/N Wayne. Secure the family.*

Bruce’s gaze snapped to Lila, who was still clinging to Dick, her sobs perfectly timed. His heart, already fractured, began to splinter further. “Lila,” he said, his voice low, dangerous. “Step away from Nightwing.”

Dick frowned, his arms tightening protectively around her. “Bruce, what—”

“Now,” Bruce barked, his tone leaving no room for argument. Lila’s sobs faltered, and for a fraction of a second, her mask slipped—a flicker of calculation in her eyes before she buried her face in Dick’s chest again. But Bruce saw it. And so did Damian.

Damian Wayne, your twin, stood apart, his katana still dripping with the blood of the last kidnapper he’d dispatched. His green eyes, so like yours, were fixed on Lila, and the realization hit him like a blade to the chest. He’d always been wary of her, the girl who’d slipped so easily into their lives, but he’d dismissed it as jealousy, as his own struggle to share the family he’d fought to claim. Now, as he pieced together the puzzle—her sudden arrival, her effortless charm, the way she’d drawn their attention away from you—he felt a rage unlike any he’d known. It wasn’t the cold, controlled fury of the League of Assassins. This was personal, visceral, a brother’s wrath for the sister he’d failed.

“You,” Damian hissed, his voice a venomous whisper. He took a step toward Lila, his katana rising, but Jason grabbed his arm, holding him back. “She did this. She *planned* this.” His eyes burned with unshed tears, his voice breaking as he looked at your body. “Ukhti, I should’ve known. I should’ve protected you.”

Bruce’s mind raced, connecting the dots. Lila’s foster records had been clean—too clean. Her arrival had coincided with a lull in major threats, a perfect distraction. She’d played them all, weaving herself into their hearts while you faded into the background. And now, you were dead because of her. Because of *him*. The guilt was a noose, tightening with every breath. He’d failed you as a father, and now he’d failed you as Batman, blinded by a girl who’d weaponized their affection.

“Tim,” Bruce said, his voice steady despite the storm inside him. “Secure the evidence. Dick, restrain her.”

Dick hesitated, his eyes darting between Bruce and Lila. “Bruce, she’s just a kid—”

“She’s a traitor,” Damian snapped, wrenching free of Jason’s grip. He lunged for Lila, but Bruce stepped in front of him, his hand on Damian’s chest.

“Not yet,” Bruce said, his voice a low growl. “We need answers.”

Lila’s performance faltered as Dick gently but firmly pulled her away, his hands cuffs-ready. Her eyes widened, a flicker of panic breaking through her facade. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about!” she cried, her voice trembling. But the cameras were still rolling, and Gotham was watching. The city would see her unmasked, just as the Batfamily had.

Damian sank to his knees beside you, his katana clattering to the ground. He reached for your hand, cold and still, and pressed it to his forehead, a gesture of grief and apology. “Ukhti,” he whispered, his voice raw. “I was supposed to be your shield. I let you down. I let her take you.” His shoulders shook, the weight of his failure crushing him. He’d been raised to be a warrior, not a brother, but you’d been the one constant in his life, the one who’d understood him without words. And now you were gone, stolen by a girl who’d played them all.

Bruce watched, his heart a bleeding wound. He wanted to comfort Damian, to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but the words wouldn’t come. He was the father, the leader, and he’d let this happen. He’d chosen Lila, not because he loved her more, but because he’d underestimated you. He’d thought you were strong enough to wait, to endure. He’d been wrong.

The sirens grew louder, GCPD closing in. Tim was already uploading the evidence to the Batcomputer, ensuring Lila’s betrayal would be exposed. Jason stood guard, his gun trained on the remaining kidnappers, but his eyes kept drifting to you, his sister, the one he’d never truly known. Dick cuffed Lila, his face a mask of betrayal and guilt, while Tim worked in silence, his jaw tight with suppressed grief.

Bruce knelt beside Damian, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll make this right,” he said, though the words felt hollow. “For her.”

Damian didn’t look up. “There is no right,” he said, his voice barely audible. “She’s gone.”

Talia al Ghul stood in the heart of her fortress, the flickering torchlight casting shadows across her sharp features. The air was heavy with the scent of incense and steel, a reminder of the empire she’d built. Her spies had just delivered the news, their voices trembling as they recounted the events in Gotham. The live broadcast had reached even the remote peaks of Nanda Parbat, and Talia had watched, her heart a storm of ice and fire, as her daughter—*her* Y/N—was shot dead on camera.

She stood motionless, her emerald eyes fixed on the tablet displaying the frozen image of your body, your blood pooling beneath you. The world had seen it, but only Talia understood the true cost. You were her daughter, her legacy, the child she’d trained in secret, hoping to mold you into a weapon as deadly as Damian. But you’d chosen Gotham, chosen your father, and she’d let you go, believing Bruce would protect you. She’d been wrong.

Her fingers tightened around the hilt of her dagger, the blade glinting in the torchlight. “Lila,” she murmured, the name a curse on her lips. Her spies had uncovered the girl’s treachery, the messages linking her to a shadowy network that rivaled even the League. Lila had played the Batfamily like pawns, orchestrating your death to secure her place. Talia’s lips curled into a snarl. The girl would pay, but not before she suffered.

“Beloved,” Talia said, her voice soft but laced with venom, addressing the empty air as if Bruce could hear her. “You failed her. You let a viper into your home and called it family.” Her eyes burned with tears she refused to shed. She’d lost you, her daughter, her shadow, and the pain was a blade in her heart. But Talia al Ghul did not break. She planned.

She turned to her assassins, her voice a whip. “Find the girl. Bring her to me alive. She will learn the price of crossing the al Ghuls.” Her gaze returned to the tablet, to your still face, and her voice softened, a mother’s grief breaking through. “Rest, my daughter. Your blood will not be spilled in vain.”

Talia would burn Gotham to the ground if it meant avenging you. And when she was done, Lila would beg for the mercy you’d never been given.

[holybatflapexpert]

Absolutely amazing how AO3 is a part of the internet that doesn't sneak in any ads and doesn't have an algorithm and doesn't watch you or record how much time you spend looking at each fic or whatever. It's just right there to use for free. Legend

[holybatflapexpert]

[holybatflapexpert]

superbat might not be everyone's cup of tea but you have to admit "person who wears glasses as their secret identity but doesn't need them" and "person who avoids wearing glasses until they absolutely have to" is a hilarious dynamic for a relationship.

[holybatflapexpert]

On my local weather channel theres this small 20 somethings guy who does the minor weather and my family is so enchanted by him. He wears the most egregious suits and ties that make my grandparents go off the rails. Sometimes he blends in with the green screen and my grandparents go farther off the rails. My entire family calls him "sheldon" because any skinny white geeky guy is Sheldon Cooper to them. There is currently a huge tornado on the way and they sent Sheldon to go check it out. Sheldon sounds like he's crying in the middle of this horrible rain and my grandparents are so upset about it. Sheldon could die out there. Why did they have to sacrifice him? Sacrificing their young. My grandmother has started a grudge against the main weather man for abusing poor poor Sheldon. I will update if Sheldon survives.

[holybatflapexpert]

I'm cool with having an iPhone most of the time until I remember that these emoji 🗣️📢 are fucking facing each other. Yeah lemme just yell directly into the sending end of ths fucking megaphone real quick. Stupidass country

[holybatflapexpert]

Jason: Y'know, I was actually a ghost for a while before I was revived

Dick: *eye twitching* Is that so?

Jason: *smirking* Yeah.

Dick: That's so- interesting! I'll be right back! *slams the bathroom door in his face*

Dick, whisper screaming into his phone: LESLIE, I DON'T NEED THE ANTIPSYCHOTICS, I WASN'T HALLUCINATING JASON THAT WAS GENUINELY JUST HIS GHOST-

Jason, who only ever haunted Dick a couple days because he realized that Dick didn't seem to care about his death and thought Dick was only upset because Jason might've seen something embarrassing about him as a ghost: ?!?!?

[holybatflapexpert]

At some point when Jason and Dick are hanging out Dick goes on a rant about how as Nightwing he can’t lose it like red hood can and how he is sick of everything and how he is angry and how he would love to be able to lose it like red hood does every night just once

About a week later when Dick got back to his apartment after work there was a red hood suit crafted specifically for Dicks measurements with a note saying

“Go nuts Dickhead”

Now he should NOT do this it was a bad idea…but Jason is out of town for a couple of days and he wouldn’t want the ally left unprotected

Bruce was very confused when he saw his son who was supposed to be out of town blow up a warehouse

He was even more confused when said son looked like he had lost some of his bulky muscle it wasn’t super obvious but he was Batman and that was not red hood

He was gonna go stop the fake red hood when cass put a hand on his arm and said that he needed this and to let him have his fun

Dick blew shit up didnt hold his punch’s got to say the things he wanted to say but couldn’t cause they were to mean as Nightwing

Jason and Dick never discuss this but when ever Jason’s outa town he always makes sure that the red hood suit is on his brothers bed

[holybatflapexpert]

Guess who had this waiting in the drafts 😃

🤡🤡🤡

ME

so sorry for the delay lol

This is my HC’s for Bruce and Alfred with Gymnast!daughter

Bruce

So Bruce and Gymnast!Daughter meet because she gets an internship at his company for school credits or smth at 15 cause her dad left (he found out she wasn’t his boo kid, daughter didn’t know that yet she just thought he was being shitty lol) and her mum was sick so couldn’t work as much to support them so gymnast!daughter headed to her mums workplace Wayne Enterprise (😏) to apply for an internship for her school (also money lol) so gymnast!daughter who is super duper extra smart gets to have an internship as Bruce’s secretary and sometimes assistant. She basically shadows Bruce’s personal assistant and also helps out as his secretary to see how life as a CEO goes and how to manage buisness and all that.

Tim who has been tooken in by Bruce at this point and works for Wayne enterprises takes notice and is like oh another smart kid working here amd they start eating lunch together amd becoming friends.

This is where Alfred comes in because he’s noticed that Bruce is happier I mean you can’t blame Bruce. He sees so much of himself in Gymnast!Daughter but in an endearing I want you to succeed at everything you want to do kind of way. And Tim tells him about Bruce’s secretary who’s super smart and how it’s easy to get along with her seeing as they’re similar ages and she’s super nice. Alfred then decided that she’s coming round for dinner.

He was shocked at first because as soon as she walked through the manor doors he was seeing Martha Wayne. ( 😔😢)

After taking her coat and leading her to the living room where Tim and Damian were bickering so she could hang with them u till supper Alfred went up to Bruce’s room and asked him if she. Oils be his daughter.

Bruce is just confused. Like full on 🤨 WTF face.

Alfred realises that Bruce doesn’t remember his mums face enough for him to see the startling resemblance between gymnast!daughter and Martha.

Justice for Martha btw.

Alfred then takes a photo of Bruce and his parent out of his pocket and shows it to Bruce.

Bruce then had a brain fart.

Apart from the eyes (green) girlie could be Martha Wayne Jr.

Alfred and Bruce both have a wtf moment.

Then Damian screams at Tim so they decide to go downstairs amd have a civil dinner before Tim and Damian kill each other 🥰.

At the dinner table Alfred asks Gymnast!daughter about her family, any siblings what do her parents do for work etc like basic introductions and stuff.

She has no siblings (little does she know☺️) and her parents are divorcing. She leaves out the part where her dad just upped and left her mum after an argument and her mum having terminal cancer.

Anyway dinner goes well Damian takes a liking to her because he thinks she’s capable of stealing Tim’s spot in the company which would leave Damian as the sole possible heir to Bruce. (Little does he know 😀)

Bruce drives gymnast!daughter back but she asks to be dropped of at the hospital. She tells him her mum is dying of cancer and is in the final stages of her life so she chooses to sleep at the hospital to not miss her going . She them breaks down saying she didn’t want to mention it at dinner and she’s just so overwhelmed with how nice Alfred and Damian were to her that night and how nice it was to have dinner and feel like part of a family (my Shayla)

Bruce asks about her dad and she says he just left then one day 😢.

He goes into rhe hospital w her sees her mum and oh shit. He does recognise her. He had a one night stand w her years ago and went on a few dates but she broke things off cause she was getting married(not her choice it was an arranged marriage)

So what are the chances her daughter who is just as old as their affair is a doppelgänger of his mum.

She recognises Bruce aswell.

She then has a coughing fit and as doctors rush in Bruce walks out.

To the reception 😄

To pay for her treatment and to have her in the most comfortable room available with 24/7 doctors surveillance trying to make sure she stays alive.

That lasted about a month.

When gymnast!daughter was at school Bruce would visit her and they’d talk.

She tells him how once she got sick she told her husband she didn’t think that gymnast!daughter was his amd je just left. She tells him her marriage wasn’t too great, he wasn’t a bad husband they just didn’t love each other and didn’t try to either. They only did ‘it’ a couple of times but she was alr pregnant then so they didn’t do much after.

At first Bruce was annoyed because he missed out on his daughters entire childhood but then realises he’ll have the rest of his life with her and that he shouldn’t get angry with the woman he used to love when it’s her final days and she won’t get to see her daughter grow older than 16 😔.

Gymnast!daughter does visit her mum with Bruce. Well she’s there every night but Bruce being Batman isn’t there every night, he does always check in on them as Batman though. Hes be there like 3/7 days as Bruce and those days hed stay untill morning then drop of Gymnast!daughter at school and spend the morning with the mum. Let’s give the mum a name acrually I feel bad just saying rhe mum lol

Lorraine.

Okay so he’ll spend the morning with Lorraine on nights je spent at the hospital after dropping Gymnast!daughter at school. Hed go to the company after lunch work à bit pick up his daughter from school snd drop her off at the hospital.

Mind you gymnast!daughter doesn’t even know hes her real dad yet but she starts seeing him as her dad.

So this routine lasted as I said about a month maybe a month and a half before Lorraine dies but in the up and coming days to her death she tells Bruce that she thinks she’s going to die soon and that she wants to tell Gymnast!daughter that he is her Dad and that she’d like to spend one last day as a family together. (😭)

(Also I’ve changed the plot I feel as if it’s better daughter know abt her relation to Bruce before her mum dies and gets to spend time with both of them knowing this instead of what I originally wrote about her finding out like 2 years after Bruce adopted her that they are biologically related)

So lots of crying when Lorraine ( the mum) amd Bruce tell gymnast!daughter that she is his daughter because the gymnast!daughter is so happy that the person she’s grown to see as a Dad for the past year is actually her bio Dad amd that once her mum passes she can stay with Bruce. He also tells both of them hes the Batman because he doesn’t want the woman he loved so much once upon a time to die without knowing the biggest part of his life. (Let’s be real Bruce still is down bad for Lorraine cause she’s a bald baddie and even sickly snd dying he thinks she’s just as beautiful as 16 years ago)

For Lorraine’s last 2 weeks they ended up taking Bruce’s private jet amd just going places snd doing things Lorraine has always wanted to do. He even got superman to take her flying but like super slow speed to not wear her down.

They went to Tokyo, saw the Sydney Opera Houses (yes houses there are multiple Sydney opera houses jt should be called tge Sydney opera house square cause I thought there was only one huge one 💀 there’s a bunch) they visited the Paris Opera house to see some ballet and also went to NYC to see broadway (phantom of the opera) then to Geneva to see Les Miserables. They went everywhere.

After gymnast!daughter’s mum Lorraine died Bruce had to go to the children’s court to adopt her and also handed in a legal statement signed by Lorraine with a DNA test to show that Bruce was the bio dad and how he wanted daughter’s birth certificate changed and he also made the demand to adopt her.

This was gothams news of the decade because what do you mean Bruce Wayne is adopting a child that is for once, his bio child??? And how is the press only finding out now??!?!?!

Amyway. She moves into the manor and is reintroduced to everyone as g!d Wayne wich leads Damiannto having a one sided rivalry.

The way he sees it Bruce has another illegitimate child except this one is older than him which pushes him down on the line of succession by one.

Gymnast!daughter doesn’t really think of this seeing as her mum just died. And she now acrually has siblings wich is fun. Also she just sees Damian as a cutie even more now that hes her actual brother.

Alfred sometimes tears up because he remembers g!d’s mum and because she also looks like Martha amd they’re both dead so double the sadness but hes happy that she’s officially part of the family. He’s also quite sad that he wasn’t part of her life up until now 😢.

But now that she’s officially part of the family everyone starts going to her gymnastics competitions whenever they can. Bruce will have someone else fill in for him on patrol if it means he can watch her perform.(🥹)

Hes trying to make up for missing like 14 years of gymnastics lessons and competitions and the 16 years of her life.

Bruce also gets the gym in the bat cave fully suited out with the best gymnastics equipment even though there was already a lot of stuff because of Dick Bruce had everything upgraded to Olympic standard equipment and made sure there was like 4 of each, in case anything broke.

So now for the more HC parts of their relationship.

Bruce always show up for her. School graduation, teacher parent night, gymnastics training and competitions.

He’ll be there to drop her off at gymnastics training and he’ll be there to pick her up, watching for 20 minutes at the end of her lesson. Sometimes Dick or Damian will tag along and the others but mainly these 2.

Dick because he loves watching her doing gymnastics, she’s super talented and he recognises that and sees the passion she puts into it and he just thinks that makes her the coolest little sister ever so he likes to show up for her.

Damian just wants to see how capable she is. Hes trying to figure out how good she would hypothetically be as Robin if you take her gymnastics skill and overall athleticism and flexibility and acrobatic-ness into consideration.He’s just making sure she doesn’t steal his mantle ad the Robin but he does admire her as-well but won’t admit that yet so he just watches and analyses for now.

After a while her coach had to move for a better job in another team so gymnast!daughter’s team had no more coach so Bruce bought the gym they used to train at, had everything upgraded, even the lights, they got totally revamped locker rooms, à hang out room for team meetings with fully stocked mini fridges and freezers, fully supplied with nutritional protein fuelled ice cream, that actually tastes yummy, and other drinks that are athlete approved (no redbull that turns muscle mass into water if you haven’t finished developing yet) and also scientifically proven to be beneficial for your health, he also added a smoothie bar and hired a nutritionist to be a bar tender to make them smoothies. Now he hired a team of 4 private coaches to work at the gym year round and attend to the athletes needs. Safe to say this helped gymnast!daughter a lot for improving her skill, jt also helped her teammates and their gym became more popular so a lot of more kids started taking classes.

As a Wayne, gymnast!daughter had to start attending galas with Bruce Damian and Tim. She actually liked them though so she liked spending time at rhe galas with Bruce instead of moping in a corner like Tim amd Damian sometimes did.

The press loved her, Martha Wayne’s twin, always smiley when they photographed her at galas and even when the stupid annoying paparazzi would get photos of her hanging out with her friends in Gotham she just always seemed so nice, and none of the photos of her were bad either wich then started à kind of trend where Gotham teens would have their friends sneekily take photos of them during the week to see if it was possible to be as photogenic as gymnast!daughter. Spoiler (pun totally intended) it was not.

She was soon on the covers of fashion magazines and sports ones too. She wasn’t just known for being amazing she was known for her gymnastics aswell.

This made Bruce super proud because he was so happy that his daughter was so loved after years of only having her mum.

However this does less to someone trying to kidnap her at à gala but due to Bruce attending as Bruce he couldn’t do much in the hear of the moment, neither could Damian or Tim but don’t worry, Bruce was suspicious of a crime lord attending the gala and I’m talking about super duper mega huge crime empire like this guy wasn’t just a crime lord her was THE crime lord, you could even go as far as to say gothams crime EMPEROR. So he has a couple of the justice league whose identities weren’t completely secret attend as well and some on the roof.

Roy harper 😋😋

Connor Kent 😋😋

Diana amd also Jason and Dick.

Now Ik that Diana is the only one who’s identity is somewhat known, I’ve seen adaptations of her I think in a series where Diana Peon was known as Wonder Woman so everyone except her was just going under cover as security. So when she does get kidnapped for ransom she gets saved super duper quickly but by who??

Idk if you want I can put a poll because I plan on writing abt how gymnast!daughter would act when some rando just tries and kid apps her i think that would be funny but I’d do for the others aswell vut that is all for this little part of the gymnast!daughter series.

Hi so I said at the start of this fic but again guess what stupid little idiot has had this in her drafts thinking she posted it Sunday.

😇😇

Me.

So I feel stupid lol but here it is again sorry for the delay amd here is the pill

[holybatflapexpert]

Bruce Wayne loves to be a dramatic dad when he's out in public. It feels right to his character and somehow his children listen to him.

Dick: *swinging on the chandelier.* ppft! i can do more than this!

Bruce: *act like about to faint.* oh, ohh! Richard my son! oh, how worried i am seeing you like that, please my son! please come down before anything happens.. t-that chandelier is already 100 years old!

Dick: ... o-okay.. *gets down.*

..

Jason: *ready to leave the party with his motorcycle.*

Bruce: *holding to jay's motorcycle.* dear jason! my prince, where would you go leaving your dad alone here huh?? you don't know i would be so lonely and weak without you here..!

Jason: *can't even move his motorcycle for an inch, turn off the gear.* right.. so fucking weak.

Bruce: Jason! language! aaahh– *faints.*

..

Tim: *holding a meeting in WE, clearly tired.*

Bruce: *barge in.* my son Timothy! you look very unwell! come, don't let your dad worry you too much! we can always continue this meeting next week!

Tim: i think.. i think that is for today, I'm gonna take a rest for today too. thank you for everyone's hard work..

..

Damian: *at Gala with Bruce.* father, i need to–

Bruce: *dramatic gasps, the guests now look at them.* what sweet pie??! you want to tell my friends here your achievements in the hospital internship?! oh please go on, my dear! father is so proud of you

Damian: *confused.* i.. i.. i just.. helping heart attack patients..

Bruce: *clapping hands, wiping tears.* pop off, son!

[holybatflapexpert]

Hi hello, hope it's okay to make a request 🙏

So I've been reading some neglected reader stories where Damian hurt freshly arrived reader and the Batfam just dismissed the whole thing, treated it as a bother but otherwise expected reader to not make a fuss over it, etc. Imagine a reader in that kind of situation, a civilian raised reader who likely just lost their sole family? They HAVE to make an excuse to their self, or else they'd have to confront the cruel truth of how the Batfam is like. So they latch out to a rather silly but fitting explanation: This Is Just How Elite Gotham Families Are Like. Fratricide must be totally encouraged here! Schemes! Political intrigue! Damian, as the Blood Son™ has an advantage over reader by being here first, having his mother still alive and probably of royal descent judging by his words, not to mention his suspicious level of skills. Reader being another Blood Spawn is decidedly a threat to the Wayne's inheritance even with them having no backing. In summary freshly re-traumatized (from their mother's death then the attempted murder) civilian reader who reads/watches too many Chinese harem dramas latches out to said drama to explain why the Wayne's treat them being nearly murdered by Damian so lightly.

Imagining the Batfam after becoming yandere trying to converse with reader

Batfam: Reader we'd like to apologize for treating you so heartlessly when you first arrived

Reader: No no, it's chill. I was fresh meat you had to make understand what a viper pit this place is. I had to learn to defend myself or get killed and have it covered as a tragic accident or suicide

Batfam: What no–

Damian, repentant: Sibling, I shall train you to defend yourself

Reader, clutching a dagger: Ah I see, you are flexing Bruce's favour of you by giving me a not-offer I can't refuse without looking ungrateful. While in truth you are going to humiliate me, perhaps even maim me under the guise of training

Damian, horrified: Sibling NO–

Maybe it even spreads to reader's understanding of Gotham itself? Like, yeah yeah everybody here carries multiple weapons and has committed crimes before their age hit double digits. Reader hangs out with actual thugs, working girls etc while thinking everybody not only at Crime Alley does it. When their friends at school turn out to secretly be members of the Court of Owl they probably just go "Oh just Another Gotham Elite Thing, makes sense that there'd be some secret cult" and take it for granted the whole Batfam are members while they're deemed still too naive to join. Imagine Bruce and all the others' stress level 😂 (Yikes hope this ask isn't too long, sorry!)

Reader: I’m not saying Damian should’ve stabbed me. Reader: I’m just saying it makes sense politically. Damian: IT WASN’T POLITICAL, I WAS TWELVE. Reader: And I was the mysterious long-lost heir suddenly introduced into the household. Honestly, you were merciful.

Bruce: You don’t have to carry a weapon around the manor. You’re safe now. Reader: pulls out three daggers and a vial of poison Reader: With respect, Father, you’re either lying or you’ve grown soft. Bruce: ...I just said we’re having waffles for breakfast.

Dick: You’ve been hanging around literal criminals in Crime Alley. Reader: They’re commoners with valuable street intel. I’m building alliances. Dick: They mugged you. Reader: knowingly The price of diplomacy.

Reader: watching Bruce brood in the Batcave Reader: ...His Majesty grieves again. Perhaps I should compose a lament. Tim: Please stop writing ballads about my dad. Reader: They must know of the Tragedy of House Wayne. It’s how the bards learn.

Damian: I brought you your sword. Reader: A warning then? You wish to see if I’m still soft. If I can still bleed. Damian: IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY PRESENT?! Reader: ...Ah. I see. A test of loyalty disguised as sentiment. Nicely done, brother.

Barbara: You seriously thought the Court of Owls was just… some rich kid extracurricular? Reader: They had matching robes and private meetings in candlelight. Reader: I assumed it was like Model UN but with knives. Barbara: You need therapy. Reader: Or a stronger alliance.

Jason: You okay, kid? You seem… twitchy. Reader: Someone left a note on my pillow that said “Sleep tight.” Jason: ...And? Reader: intensely It didn’t say who wanted me to sleep. Or how tightly.

Reader: narrowing eyes at Bruce and Alfred Reader: One of you is the puppet master. The other is the shadow hand. Bruce: …We just want to eat dinner with you. Reader: picks up fork like a weapon Reader: Say that again, poisoner.

Stephanie: What do you want for Christmas? Reader: An escape goat. Stephanie: Don’t you mean scapegoat? Reader: No. I need a literal goat to pin the blame on when the next assassination attempt happens. Stephanie: …Respect.

Tim: Look, I’m sorry we didn’t take what happened to you seriously at first. Reader: graciously It’s all right. You were testing my worthiness. It’s how noble houses operate. Tim: We weren’t. We were just emotionally constipated idiots. Reader: smiles Same thing.

[holybatflapexpert]

Bruce: *under the Batmobile, doing repairs*

Bruce: Can you hand me the 9mm?

Jason: *hands Bruce a 9mm pistol*

Bruce: *takes it, looks at it, and hands it back*

Bruce: I meant a ratchet.

[holybatflapexpert]

*random tiktok in the DC universe*

“So due to poor life decisions I’m now walking alone at night in Gotham, if i don’t make it check the fit-“

Suddenly stops talking as a motorcycle revvs behind. Tiktokker whips around. Red hood zooms by, speakers on full blast while he sings along.

“-the oNE WHO UNDERSTANDS YOU, BEEN HERE All this time so why can’t you seeee…”

Tiktokker stares after the bike in disbelief. The video ends.

[holybatflapexpert]

metal and pine, ch. 1 | knight!jason todd x princess!reader

a/n: my fault y’all i took a mini break, my motivation and creativity actually got clipped😭. this was intended to be a fluffy drabble but turned into a slow burn angst situation, which i said i’d never write but here we are. definitely turning this into a series!!

cw: medieval time period, inaccurate language used, toxic parental relationship, crying, slow burn, banter, angst, jason and reader in denial, jason being mean (what’s new), mutual pining (eventually), proofreading as we speak

you’re sitting on slate, soles pressing down firmly to keep you from falling. you’re used to this—the roof is your escape, your hiding place from all things royal.

you had gotten into yet another fight with your father about your betrothal. four years have past since you came of age and you rejected every prince and duke in the world that had come to pursue you, much to the king and court’s dismay.

“i don’t understand how i raised you to be so selfish! i give my life for you to have every luxury—and this is how you thank me? rejecting the last man who sailed the ocean for weeks at the prospect of seeing you?! your mother may have taught you differently, but know this. marriage is merely a transaction. i don’t care if you don’t love him. this is your duty and you must abide. if i’m not promised an heir in the coming seasons, your time here as princess, as my daughter, will end.”

his words stung your ears. were you really selfish for not wanting to marry a man who knew nothing of you? who didn’t even have the gall to try? many of your dates ended with slaps—angry reactions to ugly words—or kisses so soulless that your tongue felt heavy and numb in your mouth. fear made your blood run cold at the thought of being thrown out of a world you didn’t ask to be in, much less by your own father.

even in fear, you’re single, happily. and as much as the word love rings sweetly in your ears, freedom rings sweeter. you could never give yourself to a stranger, no matter how much security it would bring to you and your legacy.

still, you know your role in the kingdom more than anyone. you know the responsibility of mending tensions between your land and others falls on you. you know that you can’t roam your castle halls forever, not anymore.

you know that some nights you lay awake and stare at the empty pillow next to yours, imagining the mattress dipping with someone else’s weight, a lover’s arm heavy and warm on your torso.

your forehead is hot and pulsing against your arm as you fold into yourself, tears falling on your gown. you hear a cling of metal echo in the tower above you.

you lift your head to see your knight place his helmet on the floor and lean over the balcony, dagger and apple in hand.

he knows you’re there. that watchtower hasn’t been used in years, not since the great war from a decade earlier.

you look forward into the dense forest, annoyed that you’ve been caught. your sacred hiding spot has been exposed to the man that always seems to loom over you.

“sir jason,” you greet, voice thick with tears and sour with irritation.

“your highness. ever the keen eye.”

“how did you find me this time?”

“you’re not a quiet crier.”

you scoff. if jason was anything, he was honest. blunt.

“you’re not a quiet knight.��

“touché,” he smiles a crooked smile, cutting a piece of apple clean with his dagger and thumbing it into his mouth. he chews. “you go to war with the king again?”

“wouldn’t you like to know?”

“no, not really.”

“then why are you here?”

it’s always like this with him. he lingers. no matter what, no matter where you are, he’s there. even when he leaves you be, his earthy scent wafts under your nose. he bothers you.

his blue eyes seem to glow in the dark as they meet yours, “just doin’ my job.”

you hold his gaze, “well, i’m fine. you can leave now.”

“don’t sound fine.”

you groan as hands drag down your wet face. isn’t he your servant? can’t he get in trouble for this?

“you’re pestering me. it’s nearly three past. go to sleep, that’s an order.”

“not tired,” god, he has a retort for everything. you watch as he hops up on the ledge, his dense form squatting like the gargoyles that line the castle walls. the sight almost makes you laugh. he climbs down the stone bricks and sits next to you, armor clinging quietly like morning bells.

he cuts another apple slice and places it in your hand, folding your fingers over the fruit like it’s meant to be secret. his thumb stays pressed on your fingers longer than it should. you twitch.

you’ve become more and more aware of his lasting touches: a weighted hand on your shoulder, a knee knocking yours, fingers caging your waist and “stabilizing” you on your horse that you can ride perfectly fine on your own. you brush it all off. there’s no way he means anything by it.

“i have to get married soon.”

jason cocks his head towards you, “and that’s making you cry, because?”

“because—because what does it even mean? my mother always told me that i should love the person i marry, now my father’s telling me the opposite—that marriage is my duty and i have no choice in the matter. i only remember her in her unhappiness. maybe mother was trying to warn me. maybe that’s why she’s gone,” your voice breaks. you don’t mention the part where you’ll be banished by year’s end if you’re still unmarried. you can’t. it would make the threat too real.

he listens, studying you intently as you ramble. something tugs at his heart and he rids it as quickly as it comes.

teary eyes look at him and then look away, “i don’t even know why i’m telling you this. you never help.”

he shrugs, “sometimes love is learned.”

“always the contrarian.”

he leans back on his palms, “i’m serious. you may not love the person you marry, but you could learn to.”

“that doesn’t sound ideal.”

“oh well,” he huffs, “you can’t say i didn’t try.”

a soft giggle rips from you, you turn to him once more. you take a chance probe him.

“have you ever been in love, jason?” you ask, barely above a whisper.

jason’s breath hitches, you don’t catch it. he doesn’t either. he swallows.

“no.”

you watch his jaw clench and unclench as he makes jagged stabs in the crisp flesh of the apple. he seems to be hiding something. you’ll play along.

“me neither. maybe we’re misunderstanding the word. how can we speak on something we haven’t felt?”

“you have a point there,” jason’s tone shifts, laced with hushed frustration. he looks at you. he’s staring, trying to understand why you’ve suddenly made him so upset.

you’re the woman he’s supposed to protect. his job. sure, you’re more than acquaintances, but he knows his rank. and what’s more is he knows where you’ll end up: in an embellished carriage with some pretty duke, riding to a new, bigger palace where you’ll be fat and happy. a life you deserve.

so why is his heart sinking so fast and far down his body?

the air is thicker than wool, and your eyes are still locked on his.

“be honest with me.”

“i always am, your highness.”

“it’s me isn’t it? i’m the reason why i’m not in love. why i’m so lonely.”

jason blinks. to hear you talk about yourself like this, it enrages him—and he’s confused now more than ever. he never gets offended when you make fun of his hair, he doesn’t care when you trip him and make him fall in the fountain, he barely cares when you ramble about how much you hate your hair when it’s wind blown.

but with this, he wants to yell at you, correct you, tell you something, anything. but he doesn’t know what he could say, what would make it better. so for the first time in his life, he lies to you.

“yes.”

“excuse me?” you’re appalled—not the answer you expected at all.

his next words whip in front of you like a shield, “you’re annoying. you always think you’re right. you never let people in. even in your rank, you complain about everything. you do nothing to change this life you claim to hate.”

he doesn’t know why he’s saying all this— why he’s hurting you. he knows how complicated your life can be. but it’s curbing whatever storm has started to brew in his chest, he keeps going.

“you’re stubborn. i always have to run after you when you sneak out. i always have to make sure you don’t die. do you know how tiring that is?”

you barely wait for him to finish.

“leave.”

“what? but you said-,”

“leave.”

you don’t dare look at him. the one person who you thought would be on your side—a listening ear, a shoulder to lean on—had just insulted in the greatest possible way. you feel more abandoned and alone than ever. he validated every fear, every blame you put on yourself.

you’re not sure why it means so much, men have called you worse. your own father has called you worse. whatever your knight teases you with usually would roll off your shoulders. you’re a princess. a confident, unshakable one at that. but here you are, lips wobbling and salty water pricking your puffy eyes.

jason turns to you, heart thrumming in his chest, a hummingbird against a cage. his stomach turns with guilt at the sight of you.

“i’m s-,” his throat clears, he couldn’t make this better if he tried. “yes, your highness.”

he stands, bowing. you still don’t look at him.

when you do finally turn your head, you know your knight is gone. but half of you still expected him to be there. to hang around, like he always does. you sob, hugging yourself tighter than ever.

angry, you throw the apple that turned warm and sticky in your hand. and though your nose is stuffed full with mucus and tears, you still smell him.

metal and pine.

[holybatflapexpert]

i always forget my grandma used to be a clown so it caught me the fuck off guard when she saw this

and no hesitation saying “oh it’s that creepy clown- oh he’s drinking that’s against clown code”

[holybatflapexpert]

dystopia au where we are all assigned one of two chosen genders at birth

[holybatflapexpert]

this post is currently common rarity. in 5 minutes though I'm going to edit this post to be shiny, limited edition foil. I'll edit it back to normal one minute later so best of luck getting yourself a shiny copy