#batfam x oc

[batsis-reader]

Batsis, peeling a banana: May I take your jacket, sir? Hahahaha.

Damian: Do you think other people can’t hear you?

[pugh-pugh-pugh-pugh]

The Black Guy Law

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲; 𝐸𝑙𝑖 𝑊𝑎𝑦𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑎𝑦 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 𝑝𝑜𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑡 𝑖𝑛𝑣𝑜𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑑.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠; 𝐵𝑟𝑢𝑐𝑒 𝑊𝑎𝑦𝑛𝑒 𝑥 𝑀𝑎𝑙𝑒!𝑜𝑐 (𝑏𝑎𝑡𝑑𝑎𝑑)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬; 𝐸𝑙𝑖 𝑊𝑎𝑦𝑛𝑒, 𝐵𝑟𝑢𝑐𝑒 𝑊𝑎𝑦𝑛𝑒, 𝐷𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝐺𝑟𝑎𝑦𝑠𝑜𝑛, 𝐽𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑇𝑜𝑑𝑑

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; 𝑇𝑟𝑎𝑢𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑐 𝑖𝑛 𝑠𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑠 𝑠𝑜 𝑏𝑒𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑒, 𝑃𝑜𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝐵𝑟𝑢𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦, 𝑉𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 (𝑖𝑛 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑛)

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬; 𝐼 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑛𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑣𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑝𝑜𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑏𝑟𝑢𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑/𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑖𝑠𝑚, 𝑎𝑛 𝑢𝑛𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑢𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑦. 𝐴𝑙𝑠𝑜, 𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑒, 𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑠 𝑒𝑡𝑐. 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑢𝑝 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑚𝑒...

The time was around 3 in the afternoon, an hour of anticipation for teachers, parents -whichever ones bothered to show up to pick up their children anyways and didn't send their chauffers instead- and students alike, all waiting expectantly for that almost euphoric ring of the bell.

Outside the Gotham Academy's grounds, somewhere amongst the awaiting crowd of adults, there was Eli Wayne, smoothily leaning against a wall, absentmindedly conversing with some of the other parents, occasionally taking short drags from the lit cigarette resting between his fingers.

Eli was usually the one that went to pick up his kids from school. With Bruce being busy with his business work and Alfred busying himself around the house, he had offered to take over miscellaneous tasks. The man was a stay at home dad of shorts, not feeling the need to work, his husband's fortune being more than enough to provide for their family.

Soon enough the familiar ringing sounded through the halls and the outside areas of the school and was followed by shuffling and a mixture of a plethora of young children's shouts and laughter as they rushed to their respective caretakers.

"BABA!"

"BA!"

Eli heard a couple childish shrieks through the crowd, coming from behind him, a fond grin subconscious overtaking his features. The man put out his cigarette, before turning at the direction of the frantic light footsteps and kneeled down, arms wide open.

Soon enough, the small bodies of his 8 and 6 year-old sons, Dick and Jason, collided with his chest, small arms wrapping around him in a tight embrace.

"Hey, boys. How was your day at school?"

After letting them say their goodbyes to their friends, Eli took his sons' hands, starting their usual walk back home. His youngest was bouncing around blubbering endlessly about his day, while Dick was excitedly butting in to talk about his experience as well, skipping on his steps like his brother. Eli was humming along, enjoying his time with his sons.

So far everything seemed like any other day. That was until Eli caught something seemingly incospicuous out of his peripherals. A police car pulled up behind them, as they walked in the sidewalk.

Dick noticed the sudden change on his father's posture and stared up at him in confusion.

"What's wrong, baba?" the 8-year old asked, only receiving a slightly tighter grip from his father in response.

"Hey!" a voice boomed from behind the three, gaining their attention. Eli glanced over his shoulder at the men getting out of the vehicle, but decided to pay them no mind, unconsciously gripping his childrens' hands a bit tighter, feeling uneasy.

"Hey, I'm talking to you!" Eli softly tensed his shoulders, turning to face the two policemen rushing behind him obviously on edge. Eli frowned, glancing down at his children who looked back at him in confusion.

He knew what was coming. He knew exactly the situation that was unfolding before his own eyes, yet he dreaded it with his whole being.

Not in front of the kids.

Bruce and him had tried their best to keep their boys protected from the brutality of the world, of Gotham. Unfortunately, coming in contact with the reality was inevitable. They just wished it wasn't so early.

"Is there a problem, officers?" Eli tried to keep his calm, glancing between the two men opposite of him, as the kids moved a tiny bit closer to him, sending the hostility of the policemen.

"Where'd you get these kids?"

The man almost flinched at the bluntness, immediately getting frustrated at the situation. Here we go, he thought.

"They're mine, sir." growled the father under his breath in distaste, before glaring sharply at them.

"Do you have any paperwork to prove it?" the second man grumbled in disbelief, obviously staring between him and his noticeably light-skinned sons.

Eli was fuming by that point. He almost wanted to laugh by the ridiculousness of the situation and most importantly at how unlucky he was to even encounter those morons. He decided against it, instead he responded with sarcasm.

"No, I don't happen to carry the legal paperwork of my sons' adoptions on me. Now if you excuse us we have to go home."

Eli went to turn around and leave, both Dick and Jason, scurrying along, now visibly upset by the atmosphere. However, not even taking a step they heard a frantic movement and a loud click sound, before a booming voice called after them.

"Don't you take another step, buddy!" Eli immediately froze, holding his breath in shock.

Jason, not knowing any better, turned to look at the two men, his eyes immediately filling with tears of fear, as he spotted the guns in their hands. Even at his age, the boy was fully aware of how dangerous they were, and fearing for his ba, he immediately hugged his father's leg.

"Let the kids go."

The father's heart was pounding in his chest. Not because of him being in gunpoint, but for his kids' wellbeing. He could feel the terror radiating from their small figures. That exact feeling was confirmed because as soon as Eli hesitantly let his grip on them loose, they both latched on each of his side tightly, as they tried to keep their cries quiet.

By that point, they were all downright terrified.

"Come here, boys." one of the men demanded, his gun still aimed at the back of their father. Seeing their hesitation only infuriated him more, as he barked louder at them. "Come over right now!"

Eli hung his head low, glancing at his children with a heavy heart and whispered at them, his voice breaking softly. "Go, boys. Baba's gonna be just fine."

Two pairs of teary eyes met his gaze.

"But, baba-" sobbed his eldest in protest, as Eli shook his head.

"Go."

Jason glanced at Dick, as their gazes met, and they both slowly let go of their father, immediately grabbing each other's hand in dread, as they dragged themselves to the scary men.

Once the kids were on their side, the two white men placed all their focus on the adult across them.

"Turn around slowly with your hands raised in the air."

Eli did so, now having a full view of the other four.

"Look, man, I'm sure you know Bruce Wayne. These are his kids-"

"Oh, so you kidnapped Mr. Wayne's sons, huh?"

"What?! No, I-"

"You are under arrest for the kidnapping of minors." declared the first man, quickly pulling a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket and approaching Eli

"Hey, hold on-" exclaimed Eli startled, hearing his sons' cries in the background.

Without anybody noticing, the second cop, who still had his gun pointed at the man just in case, had become a bit uneasy, seeing the children's reactions from up close, finding odd how the boys could react to the arrest of their captor in such manner.

"Ron, maybe we should-" tried the second cop, but was cut off by his elder, who slammed the other man on the hood of their car with force making him groan, feeling his nose start bleeding heavily by the contact, as his arms were firmly pulled behind his back.

"Get the kids in the car now." grunted Ron, as Eli struggled under him.

"Hey! Get your hands away from my kids!" hollered Eli, eyes flaring with outrage, as he pushed and kicked back at the officer behind him.

And, suddenly, it was as if time froze.

There was so much noise, all at once.

High-pitched shrieks and sobs, an electric buzz and a scream.

Yet all Eli could hear now was the ringing in his ears, as he felt his muscles spasm as an effect of the taser firmly pressed against his lower back. And, just as suddenly, all he could see was black as he collapsed on his attacker's grip.

The boys cried endlessly screaming for their father at the top of their lungs, being actively held back by the second cop. Soon more police cars arrived at the scene.

Rushing towards the five, two other men pulled the now unconscious man's body into another police vehicle, away from the children, who continued to forcefully struggle against the cop's hold, were softly placed into the first police car, being taken to the GCPD.

Bruce Wayne was on his office at the manor, swallowed in his work, blissfully unaware of his beloved husband's and children's state. He was reading one of the legal documents he had recently been given for approval, when he received a phone call -not on his business phone- but on his personal one.

Bruce checked the room's clock. They were late. He knew because the kids hadn't burst into his office yet to greet him after arriving home, Eli following in tow, giving him a short peck before gathering the kids in his hands and leaving him continue his work. So, he assumed the caller would had been his husband calling to inform him of a reason why they were late.

And in a way he was right. He just couldn't have guessed what had happened.

Picking up his phone, he answered the phone without bothering to see the number.

"Hello?" answered Bruce, immediately noticing the intense amount of background noise from the other side of the call.

"Daddy?" Bruce froze, his heart coming to a halt, as he pulled his full attention to the phone call, hearing his youngest sniff and hiccup from obvious crying. He immediately panicked a million scenarios rushing into his head.

Why was his 8-year-old son on the phone with him crying? Where was-?

"Dick, son, what happened? Are you and Jay okay?" Bruce rambled at the phone, sitting up on his desk chair, as he received a tiny muffled hum in response. "Where's baba?"

"The big bad men took him!" he heard his Jason shriek, which caused him to immediately stand up and rush to leave the Manor.

"Who took baba boys?"

"The police, daddy." Bruce almost tripped over as his whole body froze eyes wide in realization of the severity of the situation. Something had happened and he was sure as hell his husband wasn't the one that provoked the police. "They brought us here and took baba away."

"How was baba when they took him away?"

That caught Alfred's attention who, with furrowed eyebrows poked his head from around the hallway he was dusting, concerned.

"Ba was screaming and then he fell asleep." Jay announced innocently yet with a noticeable discomfort in his voice.

Jason didn't quite grasp the reality of this situation, he was merely 6 years old after all, yet he knew the bad men did something bat at Eli that made him cry and fall asleep and then took him away. He knew they were bad, but he knew his dad would come save them like he always did.

Dick was quite aware that his baba was getting hurt for something he didn't do. They didn't believe him when he told them they were his sons and punished him under an assumption. It was scary because it didn't seem fair. And now Dick didn't let go of his brother's hand in fear of them taking Jason too.

"Boys, I'm coming to take you and baba home. Don't talk to any of those people until I get there, you hear me?" Bruce rushed out to a car, spotting Alfred following behind him.

"Okay, daddy." he heard from the other line, before they hung up the phone and Bruce stepped on the gas.

By the time they arrived at the station, both adults were fuming, dragging themselves through the doors enraged.

"Mister Wayne, he-" squeaked the receptionist startled, as the man passed right by her not paying any attention to her, Alfred staying behind to ask for the men who had made the arrest.

As he walked into the main area of the establishment, he spotted his sons sitting by a policeman's office silently. They both spotted him in a matter of seconds and rushed into his embrace as he picked them both up in ease, holding each other tightly as they cried.

"Are you both okay?" Bruce mumbled under his breath, still holding onto them protectively as he scanned them for any possible collateral injuries, breathing in relief as he found none.

The man stood up noticing Alfred approaching them with a few officers by his side, the kids immediately hugging him as well, as he softly took both their backpacks that were still place on their backs. Bruce felt his rage coming undone, as he was faced with the men that were obviously responsible for this travesty.

"Are you responsible for all this?" he heaved dangerously, as the first policeman, Ron, grinned proudly -yet oh so obliviously- at his accomplishment of rescuing the kids of one of the most powerful men in the country.

"Yes, sir. I'm glad I could do my job and bring your sons back to you safe and unharmed."

Something in Bruce snapped. The smugness, the audacity.

"Get me your superior now!" Bruce shouted, causing the whole room to freeze, chills running down every present person's back.

In just a few moments, a uniformed man around his age came out of his office and approached the situation.

"Mister Wayne. I was informed of your children's kidnapping and I-"

"They were not kidnapped!" Bruce exclaimed with a crazed look in his eyes. "That's my husband for f*ck's sake!"

"Husband?" gasped the second cop, starting to feel cold sweat running over his face, a wide-eyed expression matching his partner's.

"Now wait a sec-" tried Ron, being cut by the booming voice of Bruce.

"Don't you tell me anything and get him out right now!"

The police chief nodded disheaveldy at some of his men to grab the man they previously thought -or better off assumed- to be a criminal.

Minutes later, while Bruce was calling his lawyers, Eli was practically dragged out of his cell, him barely able to walk by his muscles being strained by the electrocution. His face was covered in sweat, tears and a trail of unwiped blood coming from his nostrils, indicating just how poorly he had been treated there.

The boys burst into tears once again as they ran to their other father, slamming into him as he took staggered towards them, exhausted yet beyond relieved to be reunited with his untouched sons.

"Oh, thank god." the man cried in desperation, hugging his sons as tight as possible, close to his chest, breathing heavily.

"Mister Wayne we are so-" hurried the superior, looking startled at the misunderstanding.

"You should be ashamed of yourselves." Alfred cut in, a deep frown itched on his face, frustration evident in his eyes.

"You'll be speaking with my lawyers." grumbled Bruce as they all stormed off the department, Eli with the help of Alfred, piling into the car, the older man driving while the rest sat in the spacious back seat embracing each other in relief. This was supposed to be another normal calm day. But then again when did things go their way.

Bruce and Eli were now layed on their bed sleeping away the pain and exhaustion, their sons huddled between them cozily. They would soon have to have a talk with their boys, give answers to their innocent questions such as 'why did they think ba stole us?' but for now they all stayed cuddled, finally at peace.

[pookiebeary]

Go Little Spider

Spiderperson! Reader in Gotham

Gn!Reader x Batfam(?)

Heavily inspired by "Peter the Pizza Guy" and "Dark Matter" on AO3

ATSV spider-reader

Taglist: @rl800

Back | Part 2

A pained groan and rustling from the dumpster caught the attention of some passersby but such was the norm in Gotham. No one came forward to help, merely glancing a second longer before going on with their lives.

You tried not to gag at the smell of rotting food surrounding you and instead focused your attention on trying to climb out of the pile of trash bags. It didn't help that your suit was soaked with whatever filthy water was in the bag of molding McDonald's.

Gross.

The putrid smell violates your nostrils and you try not to breathe as much as you need to, which is impossible when every little action you make causes you to suck in a breath because it hurts like hell. Each breath you take makes your chest hurt, like something was squeezing your lungs and stabbing it with a needle repeatedly. With shaky hands, you slowly climb up and out the dumpster, landing with a small thud on the concrete ground.

You let out a small oomph as your back hits the ground.

You're frozen on the ground as a wave of pain floods your body with it mostly concentrated on your left shoulder blade and ribs. The only positive thing about the situation is that nothing seems to be broken and the only thing there is the pain and horrible pounding headache like you've just drunk a bottle of vodka.

As you lay immobilized on the floor, you feel your vision blur as tears pool in your eyes. You quickly blinked and rolled your eyes in an attempt to stop the tears from falling down. You weren't sure why you were crying; you've been through worse than this. In all honesty, this was but a scratch compared to the injuries you've had on your line of work.

Still, you find some tears pooling on your eyes as you look up to stare at the dark and gritty alleyway you find yourself in. It reminded you of the first time you met Peter dressed as Spiderman; He had confronted the man who cornered you after you left school and dealt with him properly. And after the man passed out from the one sided fight, Peter webbed him up for the police to take him away before checked on you. You were grateful for his help and that was your first meeting with the amazing Spider-Man....

Lips pressed into a thin line as you recall the memory, you look at the hazy night sky as police sirens echo in the background. Smoke and the putrid smell of rot clung to your nose, causing you to scrunch up in disgust but also sobering you from further dwelling on the nostalgic memories.

Your hand clenches around your spider mask, with fingers tracing the webbing details on it before you start sitting up, there's no point in dwelling in the past.

You have to move on. Ignoring the cascade of pain as you move your body, you manage to drag yourself to lay on the dumpster after much effort. Okay, swinging on your web is definitely out of the question. Your eyes fall onto the occasionally glitching screen of the interdimensional watch settled on your wrist. It looks broken, but the painful feeling of your atoms slowly disintegrating wasn't there so at least it's still doing its primary function- stabilizing your atoms to settle in this dimension.

You tap on the screen of the watch, inspecting the other hardware to see if you could salvage it; Parts of the monitor were cracked but other than that nothing seemed to be too broken to repair.

Okay, you can probably try and fix it once you get your hands on some tools and replace some of the wiring. You can do this, you think. Probably. Maybe? You weren't confident given your first attempt at reverse engineering the watch ended up with you being flung to an unknown dimension, but that wasn't so bad. Honestly you were expecting it to fail and disintegrate you instead when you jumped to the ominous portal. (You've calculated the probability and it definitely wasn't in your favor.)

Frowning as you fiddle around with the internal hardware of the watch, you feel sweat rolling down your temples as you let out a frustrated groan when you try and salvage some of the more broken parts.

Welp.

There goes your only chance of knowing what dimension you're stranded in, for now at least. You take a long look at the buzzing streetlight across the street, the gritty and dark unwelcoming atmosphere didn't seem like any version of New York you've encountered. Added with the fact that your spidey senses have been thrumming softly in warning did not help with the horrible first impression this dimension gave you.

Letting out a sigh as you look down to check on your sorry state of a spidersuit, you start walking towards the streets despite a lack of destination in mind. You don't know where to go but any place is better than a dumpster in a shady alley. Plus, you didn't forget that now you had the spider society hot on your trails. Hopefully, they are being misled by the fake trail of breadcrumbs you left behind after messing around with the watch.

With your heart in your mouth, you trudge along the pavement like every step was a pain and arduous task.

***

You'd think that an injured guy wearing a ragged up spandex costume with the theme of a spider would elicit some sort of question but you were proven wrong when the few people that walked past you didn't bat an eye. Though to be fair, they looked drunk or high as hell- which should’ve been the biggest warning sign that you're stranded in the bad side of the city.

Well, that realization came very late to you and it didn't do much to ease the low thrum your spider senses gave you. It buzzed off uncomfortable at the back of your head the further you walked into the city. The wind blew coldly against your face and you felt exposed without your mask. You hesitantly placed your sweaty spider mask back to your face and gagged from the horrible smell. Unfortunately, even after all those years of wearing it, you've never gotten used to the smell of your sweat-soaked mask after a long day’s work.

After making sure the mask was firmly secured, you look around the growing darkness. The street lamps ahead were broken or flickering like it was running on sheer will. Your spidey senses were buzzing wildly at the thought of continuing the walk.

Yea, there's no way you're walking down a dark alley alone in the middle of the night. That's just asking for trouble.

You turn around, walking towards one of the buildings, wondering which building you should climb and travel through the roofs. You didn't notice this before when you were too focused on trying not to agitate your injuries during the walk but god damn the buildings have seen better days.

Some were crumbling and had dozens of bullet-sized holes, most were covered in graffiti and broken wood planks and metal pipes with suspicious goo oozing out, it seemed like a chemistry experiment gone wrong while constructions of the building were canceled halfway.

Seriously, your spidey senses are going ballistic right now it's actually unnerving. (You swear you'd heard gunshots ring in the air and this time it's louder than the previous one as police sirens echo in the background.)

It's rarely acted this way before, except that one time you visited Hell’s Kitchen for a field trip. Only this time, the annoying constant thrumming at the back of your head was louder and more in-your-face than the one at Hell’s kitchen.

Right as you stood staring at the weathered billboard sign hanging from the shoddy building of what was once a fast food diner contemplating if you should just travel from the roof, you hear a cry for help.

***

[hana-no-seiiki]

Prolly shouldnt have made my interpretation of cat villain reader my type

Im actually simping for my creation again oh lawd

[lokalblackie]

"-In other news, Gothamites rummage to pack their bags because a sudden wave of death has spread through the nocturnal streets of the more crime ridden parts of Gotham. The spontanious deaths of three of Gotham's supervillains has put citizens in a panic. Is this the rise of a new crime lord or... something worse?"

News reporters everywhere scrambled to get a few good words in before this story gets swept under the rug. Before exaggerated headlines like; "NEW GOTHAM CRIME LORD HAS PEOPLE ESCAPING TO CALIFORNIA OF ALL PLACES?!" are forgotten in the matrix. Before this story isn't relevant anymore.

Podcasters and commentary media outlets are getting their few good theories in too. Saying things like; "Y'all, the government is messing with us. Scarecrow ain't dead. It's probably the same fake terrorist attacks Hitler implemented to get the German's under his rule. Don't fall for this trap y'all."

And homeless druggies are getting a few couple bucks out this story too. Charging journalists a big buck for false news. The street scammers are jumping for joy right now. "I was there! I saw it happen! It was one of them Russians. The Soviets are comin' for us."

Bruce was amused. Everywhere he went, this shit was smeared. Popping up in his face as if he hadn't seen the other hundred different pop-ups of this story yet. He thought what any other reasonable citizen thought. "This shit's gonna disappear in a week. Trust me bro"

...

Its been a week.

People are still on this?! Maybe it is serious... Should he take a look into this? Nah it's fine. Give it another week or so. It'll blow away like all other "viral" stories...

...Right?

[r3dcarat]

a long lost daughter?

so i was once again roaming around this app and listening to daddy issues by the neighborhood featured syd and came up with this storyline of bruce having a daughter that he didn’t know about with a woman of his past. this is kind of an self-insert when it comes to background but other than that it’s mostly an oc lol. but if you want to read this as yourself go right ahead. i hope y’all like this little intro.

(not proofread lol)

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

A regular day out with the whole family.

On a Saturday which is usually always busy for the girl's father.

A rare occasion of a family being all together and sailing out to the streets.

To wherever the car takes them.

That’s what was supposed to happen.

Not this.

Not the sudden car in front of them.

The said car then crashed into the car holding the family.

Not the sudden deaths.

The said deaths of people being nothing but smashed guts and liquid.

It wasn’t supposed to happen.

But the real question is, how was there a survivor?

Out of all five people in the car only one remained unscathed.

The daughter of two parents and sister of two brothers.

A sole survivor.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

[simpingwriter]

MORE BATFAM QUOTES. HELL YEAH.

_______________________

*the siblings are in a bar for a mission*

Tim, wasted after one Pina Colada: I am the left brain, I am the left brain. "I work really hard until my inevitable death" brain. You've got a job to do, you better do it right and the right way is with the left brain's might!

Jason: Nerd-

Dick, more drunk than the rest: I LIKE OREOS AND PUSSY-

_______________________

Jason: What doesn't kill me better start running, because now I'm fucking pissed.

_______________________

Faith: Dinosaurs aren't extinct. I mean, Dad is walking in this room.

Barbara: *wheeze*

_______________________

*Faith ate Damian's Cookie*

Damian: I’m gonna kill you.

Faith: Get in line like the rest!

_______________________

Bruce, bragging to an acquaintance: I’m telling you, my kids are extremely smar-

Faith, rushing in: Dad! Dad! Damian tried to make pasta in the coffee pot and now it's broken!

Damian: Snitch...

_______________________

Damian: I have a 1:30 appointment for the flu shot with Alfred tomorrow...

Faith: Which doctor?

Damian: No, with the regular doctor.

_______________________

Faith: Social distancing says you shouldn't be within an elbow's distance of each other.

*later, in a barfight, same as the one before*

Faith: Social distancing doesn't say nothing about feet! *kicks opponent in the face*

_______________________

Faith: This food is too hot... I cant eat it.

Jerome: You’re very hot, and I still eat you. So stop complaining.

Everyone at the table: *silence*

Jason: YOU GUYS ARE DISGUSTING!

Dick: One dinner... I just want ONE DINNER!

_______________________

Barbara: Hey, Bruce you're smart, tell me...what would happen if I chugged 3 gallons of chloroform.

Bruce: Have you ever been to a mortuary?

Barbara: Yea, my dad's mom lives there.

Alfred: That is the worst response to that question.

_______________________

*Jason chugging milk from the container*

Dick, drinking some coffee: "Aren't you lactose intolerant??"

Jason: "This isn't lactose, it's milk."

Tim: "you're a fucking idiot."

Dick: *spits coffee everywhere*

[robinrobintheleader]

[1970sgothfreak]

Wow me actually posting… so uhhh little life update

1: I GOT MY DREAM APPRENTICESHIP 🩵

2: I GOT MY DREAM MOTORBIKE

3: got into an accident 👍🏻

And uhh yea now I’m back so I need ideas because I’m fucking blank brain right now so uhh yea also holy shit when I made this page I was not expecting so much love? Like YALL BEEN FUCKING SUPPORTING ME WHILE I BEEN GONE LIKE JUST TAKE MY LOVE ALL OF YOU 🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

[house-of-slayterr]

Black Sparrow

For those of you who don't have Wattpad, I'm going to reupload some of my stories on here so you can read them. And Vice Versa, I promise I'm working on new stuff too, I just need to organise shit right now, it's how I calm myself down when I'm Anxious. Whenever "Harley" is mentioned in this story, It is my friend's OC from his version of the story. Not Harleen Quinnzel.

Prolouge: Faded Memories

Morrigan traced her fingers along the blade delicately, careful to not move too fast. It was a dagger she held many times before, one that oddly gave her comfort. It used to belong to her brother, a ghost, a man who fell off the face of the earth what seemed like eons ago. There wasn't much left to remind her family of him, there wasn't much left of the family in general. The damascus steel was cool beneath her burning flesh. She admired every detail that went into the weapon her brother had crafted so expertly. Her parents were fond of her brother, they admired his work and she didn't blame them. This fondness did not however extend to their youngest child. Morrigan was a dull flame compared to the blazing inferno that was her brother. He was perfect, despite his disappearing act. Morrigan felt nothing but  whisper when hiding in his shadows. A sigh fell from her lips as she placed the blade back under her pillow where it usually sat when she wasn't messing with it.

Morrigan reached over to the candle beside her bed and put it out with the tips of her finger. It stung but it was a familiar, comforting feeling. The room was shrouded in darkness, all life seeming to drain from the space as she settled into bed for the night. Tomorrow would be another day, another long and gruesome day, but one thought kept her going. Maybe tomorrow she'd see him again, her brother would find his way home to her. She shut her eyes tight, praying tomorrow would be better than the last, hoping she'd finally be a person again. Despite her usually rapid pulse, the only thing assuring her she wasn't in fact stuck in some sort of sick purgatory were her racing thoughts. That's what made her human, her thoughts were the only contribution to society in the eyes of her parents. If it weren't for her mind she'd be useless to them, maybe even to everyone, not that there was anyone else around to disappoint. But she turned it all off for the night, letting her mind fall into silence as the night grabbed hold of her.

[i-cant-sing]

Okay but I need yall to help me figure out the character(s) for the following scenario:

Imagine a romantic yandere falling for reader, and ofc reader isn't in love with yandere for obvious reasons like red flags. Maybe they did try dating, Yandere is a charmer, comes from a rich family, he's smart and hardworking and oh so head over heels in love with you. He's always taking you out on best dates, HAS to get you the largest fucking bouquets (excellent taste in flowers) and buys you expensive but well thought out gifts.

But for whatever reason, things dont work out and you break things off hastily and most likely over the phone before leaving the country. And yandere just- breaksdown. I mean my man does not have a good mental health as is, but you leaving, actually leaving him just breaks him down and he has a full blown panic attack.

I'm talking about yandere falling to his knees, clutching his chest and gasping for air, tears streaming down his face as he screams your name like a mad man. His family, they love him, they adore their son/brother/grandchild sm, it pains them to see him in such a miserable state. Yandere man is so delirious that he has to be sedated, tranquillised by medical professionals because he's just losing his fucking mind, babbling your name over and over again like a mad man. His condition only worsens as time passes, and so his family decides to take drastic measures because they can't see their beloved son/brother/grandkid so fucking dead and depressed and a shell of a once bright man. They love him so much, they only want ti see him happy, so they use their money and influence to track you down and try to convince you to return and take yandere back. When you refuse, they take the high way and force you to come with them, dragging you kicking and screaming to their private jet and fly all the way home, where yandere is.

You're in a dishevelled state, tears running down your cheeks as you struggle to free yourself from their grasps as they take you to yandere. And when yandere sees you... for the first time in months, his family sees the light return in his eyes as the yandere reaches out for you, scared that you're just his mind playing tricks. When he finally touches you, he is immeadiately pulling you into a hug, arms tightening around your body like a gilded cage as he cries into your shoulder and thanks his family for bringing you back. His family only smiles with tears in their eyes as they lock the door behind them when they leave, so that you don't go running away. Meanwhile, yandere has pulled you into his lap and he's looking at you with such sad eyes, staring at each feature of yours over and over again as if to memorise it all again. He can't help the tears that continue to slip out of his eyes, maybe he's crying that you're finally here, or maybe he's crying for all the time that's been lost when you weren't here. You fall asleep soon due to exhaustion, but yandere doesn't sleep a wink that night because he continues to stare at you and play with your hair very gently, finally closing his eyes when morning comes and he wraps his arms around you and traps your legs with his.

By now, you guys realise that the yandere's family is not only yandere for their son/brother/grandson but also for you. They are yandede for you too, but they're not allowing you to leave them or their son or even make him unhappy ever again. Some members are willing to let all you "tantrums" slide, while others are not so kind. BUT one thing is for sure, you're ALWAYS safe with yandere s/o, no matter what.

Now, for the characters I've had in kind for this scenario are:

Halim Mehmet Shah and the Shah Family (my ocs)

Dabi/Shotou and Todoroki clan (I am the OG creator of Yandere Todoroki Clan)

I wanna say Naoya or Toji but the Zenin clan hates them both....

Dick Grayson/Jason Todd and Batfam

What do you guys think?

Mood board for this scenario^^^(I love Pinterest)

[pookiebeary]

Go Little Spider

Spiderperson! Reader in Gotham

Gn!Reader x Batfam(?)

Heavily inspired by "Peter the Pizza Guy" and "Dark Matter" in AO3

ATSV spider-reader

Part 1 | Next

You're Spider-Kid, sidekick and protégé of the late amazing Spider-Man. It didn't take long before Miguel O'hara and his band of spiderpeople recruited you in their little elite force after you took the mantle of your late mentor.

It also didn't take long for you to realize how despite the so-called elite force consisting of all the other variants of your late mentor- they all seemed to fail at being the one thing they claimed to be. They all failed the one golden rule Spider-Man lived by. You couldn't believe your ears when you heard about the Arachno-Humanoid Poly-Multiverse and canon events. Allowing some people to die because that's their fate? That was some messed up shit. You couldn't sit by idly knowing their destiny was to die, so you did what your Spider-Man would've done; you broke the canon.

Well, more like tried to.

You had planned to save the Gwen Stacy of this universe (because you're not going to let another version of your mentor go through the pain he did), but of course you were caught before you could save her from the fall. A great force tackled you and broke your grip as you climbed the tower of the Brooklyn Bridge.

The sweet and tangy smell of iron fills your mouth when you're thrown from the tower and far off against the incoming metro. A pained groan escapes your lips upon impact and you feel an unbearable ache on your chest when you try to get up. You take your ripped mask off for a breather and spit out the blood from your chapped lips. You manage to sit up after gritting through the pain- you've been through worse, you mutter to yourself.

"Stop whatever you're trying to do, kid. You can't risk breaking the canon." You heard the familiar and condescending voice of Miguel warning you, but his words only further infuriated you.

A look of disbelief flashes over you and you feel your anger getting the better of you,"You're telling me… that I'm just supposed to let them die because that's their fate? How could you..?"

" HOW COULD ALL OF YOU?!" You bark at the other spiderpeople in the surrounding.

" And we're supposed to be the good guys?! Spider-Man would never let someone die just because that's their fate!!" You let out a faint sardonic laugh, "If this is what it means to be Spider-man, then I want out. "

The other Spider-people, the other versions of the Peter you know tenses at your words; you're going rogue. You narrow your eyes at them, they look like a younger version of Peter you know but they could never live up to yours.

"It's not like that, kiddo," You hear one of them tell you in a disappointed tone.

You couldn't believe that all of them gave in so easily as you gave them an even more menacing glare, "So all of you are fine with letting innocent people die because that's their fate? Because some fucking simulation said so?! You're all fine with that??"

They all shuffled and looked at each other as if they've only just started thinking that maybe- maybe they were wrong. If looks could kill, you'd be six feet under with the way Miguel looks at you but you could say the same for him. If looks could kill, he'd be six feet under too.

As the group of spiderpeople seemed to hesitate, you quickly take advantage of this opening to make a run for it before Miguel could bark out another order. You speed along the metro to put some distance between you and your pursuers, bearing through the pain on your legs and chest as you keep running.

"Fine." Miguel gruffly replies, his eyes glaring with a menacing red hue as he starts chasing after you like a feral animal.

Curiously, you took a quick peek behind you and the sight almost made you wet your pants. He looked like he was out for blood with the way he was running on all fours and snarling at you-

Well you weren't wrong. Miguel was out for blood and you found out the hard way when he managed to web you, pulling you backwards as you tumbled from the sudden force. He then grabbed your head and smashed you against the ground mercilessly, leaving a crater in its wake from the sheer force. Blood trickled down your head and nose as you start seeing black spots dance around your vision.

You hear the other Peter speak up to defend you on your behalf as you struggle to get up with ringing ears and a few bones you were sure are broken.

"Go home (Name)." He commands ever so sternly as if he hadn't just incapacitated you. He towers over you as he holds a tight grip on your wrist where your interdimensional watch rests. As he's about to take your watch away, you remember you've tampered with the watch before and set a contingency plan in case this rogue act of yours went wrong. Not that said contingency plan was complete yet but something's better than nothing.

Immediately, you pressed the special switch you've installed in your watch and Miguel's surprise is clear as you start glitching and fading away.

"Fuck you." You spat before kicking him away, taking advantage of his surprise and jumping to the ominously glitching dimensional rift that suddenly appeared behind you.

***

[undertheredhood]

random civillain who just moved to gotham: *having a mental breakdown after they accidentally kill a clown with a bad dye-job*

the red hood (notorious crime lord and vigilante): "are you from tennessee? 'cause you're the only ten i see."

[dudethatsmyundeaduncle]

DP x DC AU

Danny's gonna adopt all the Halfas in Gotham whether he wants to or not, and it's gonna start with the little dead girl he found after crawling out of that portal in the league base.

Pt 2 here. My Au Art

...........................

There's a dead little girl sitting on the rug in front of Danny's coffee table curiously eating Cheetos.

Well, she's not all the way dead, only half, could even be a little less then that, Danny would know he's sort of the leading expert on being half dead.

Her skins blue, like comic book mystique blue, vibrant and impossible to miss. Shes got these big black eyes and a nasty split going straight through her upper lip to just under her right eye.

She's also missing her nose, it's just gone, no cartilage left over just the gaping nasal cavity like skulls have.

The little girl looks dead, she is dead, or she's at least as dead as Danny is which is almost exclusively in name only.

Her name is Curaré, Danny only knows it because it's been branded into the skin of the little girls neck, just under the curve of her bald skull.

Curaré is terribly thin, the little toddler sized T-shirt she has on hangs loose around her torso where baby fat should fill it out.

She's horrible to look at, a tiny nightmare, her corpse like coloring doing nothing to mitigate the appearance.

Curaré was neither a healthy nor normal little girl, there was no way Danny could have left that league facility without her.

Oh and she almost exclusively spoke in Spanish which made finding her dinner hard.

Not that Cheetos are really dinner, little kids need to eat more then that Danny was pretty sure, like 89% sure. Although they did have a lot of calories...

Danny tilts his head absently as he looks at her, the little demon being illuminated red and green by the glow of the TV. She's enraptured by the Scooby doo rerun Gotham's only spanish language channel is playing tonight.

As if she can feel his eyes she turns to him and tilts her head the same way.

Danny blinks at her, Curaré blinks back.

" Uh- " Danny starts, trying to remember anything from his Spanish elective from sophomore year. God, his teacher had been right he had needed to study more. " The Cheetos, you like them? They're uh...bueno? Oh! Son Buenos?"

He points his finger down at the snack sized bag in her grasp, her fingers are tiny , they must be so fragile, looking at the desperate grasp they have on the bag makes Danny's chest hurt. How could anyone be so small? Had Danny ever been that small?

Curaré blinks again, long and slow, processing Danny's words. She looks down at her Cheetos and back up at Danny then she carefully holds the bag out to him.

" Oh no that's ok they're for you kiddo" Danny insists.

Curaré shakes the bag at him, like enticing a stray cat with treats but he only shakes his head again.

She gives up after that, shrugging and turning back to her cartoons.

Inside her chest Danny can feel her ghost core vibrate placidly as Scooby and Shaggy run across the TV in a panic.

Danny's own core can't help but try to match it's frequency, a low contented humming echoes between them, safe it seems to say.

Curaré can't be older then 4, which means she was resurrected young and that she died even younger. Danny doesn't know how any of it happened, halfas aren't created easily, the amount of energy needed...

She's so small.

He hopes it was fast, whatever it was that did this to her, made her like him.

Danny also hopes that her injuries aren't permanent. Some ghosts keep the carnage of their corpses well into the after life but as a Halfa Curaré should heal, even if she got those injuries during her ressurction. For her sake it'll be much easier to find some sense of normalcy if she isn't always actively bleeding, even if the blood itself is just an ecto-echo of real blood.

Danny curls his knees up to his chest and hides his face for a moment just trying to breathe. He's too young to be taking care of a toddler, he's still six months away from turning 18 and hes got school on Monday. His eyes burn and his throat constricts as he tries to swallow.

No one else but Danny would know how to take care of Curaré, and she's got no family to try and stumble their way through it. Danny can't take her back to the league and he sure as hell isn't going to search for whoever put that brand on her neck.

Even if he dropped her off at the fire station Gotham only has one Meta focused orphanage, it's state run and all the kids in it have to wear little prison style jump suits. And the food sucks, Danny can personally vouch for that.

She doesn't have a home, she's just as out of place here in Gotham as Danny is. Danny really wishes, not for the first time, that he had an adult here. Like Jazz or hell even Mr. Fuckin Lancer.

Just anyone. Anyone who could tell Danny what to do about this. Who could help him out with the child he's suddenly acquired.

He wishes anyone else was here so it wouldn't just be him and Curaré. Two dead kids sitting on the floor of a studio apartment in the Bowery watching cartoons.

What a pair the two of them will make, oh God. Danny laughs as a few tears stain his jeans.

Curaré makes a curious little noise that has Danny forcing his head up. She's reached the inevitable end of her snack sized bag and she looks absolutely devastated. She turns to look at him, tilting the empty bag towards him as if to say ' can you believe this shit!'

Danny can't help but give her a watery smile, no more crying Fenton, and wipes his nose on the back of his hand.

" Okay, one thing at a time." Danny tells himself. " You finished your Cheetos and now it's time for dinner, right? Stop me if I'm wrong."

Curaré just looks at him.

Danny's not worried, they're gonna have all the time in the world to teach her to appreciate humour and also English.

" I'm going to take that as a yes. " Danny hops up off the floor and goes to find his phone, nobody does dinner like the local Batburger.

Little foot steps follow him into the hallway, he'll have to get used to that sound he's going to be hearing it a lot.

Food first, everything would be better after they ate.

...............

For BG I imagine he's been living in Gotham for a few months and found Curaré while popping in and out of different portals in Gotham. (Who woulda guessed that some portal in Gotham leads right to the lazarus pit)

Note: if u wanna see cool art for this AU it's all in the Danny and the little dead girl au tag on my pg!

[lokalblackie]

Please note that these are all geared to the POC audience, but anyone is welcomed to read. No nsfw. All meant in good fun.

(PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE VOTE I NEED IT PLEASE I'M SO LONELY GIVE ME A CHOICE I'M SO INDESCISIVE AND EASY DECISION MAKER ISNT HELPING MY CASE)

[hana-no-seiiki]

More dommy mommy reader!

this time, using some lines from makima’s jp cv’s asmr and devil wears prada scenes. pretty sure i wrote this scenario before but like a long time ago, and just in headcannons so.

YANDERE! BATFAM x DOMMY! MOMMY! READER

You do not think Bruce Wayne was completely aware of the logistics when it came to Galas. If he did he wouldn’t be holding so many of those damn things all the time.

“I’m so sorry, Miss [Y/N]! I really did confirm last night.”

“Tales of your incompetence do not interest me.”

But maybe you shouldn’t be blaming him, but the lack of tact, wit, or remarkable capability the entire staff had. Then again, it’s because you’re always around the Batfamily that your standards for competency were so high.

“Miss [Y/N]!” You heard someone call out to you.

The assistant behind you visibly tensed. Anyone with a brain on them knew not to bother you during work. Hell, any thing that could breathe knew not to approach you when you were swamped with work (which was usually all the time)

“Drake, let me go.”

“Damian. Stay.” Damian doesn’t even notice the condescending way his father reprimanded him, jealousy consumed him entirely. He only saw red.

“How can you be so calm about this? They’re practically smothering her!”

“There’s a reason why Miss [Y/N] was picked to be Alfred’s successor y’know. Beyond just family ties.” Dick caressed Damian’s hair. “She values professionalism above all. She’ll reject them right about now…”

“You . . . love me?” You parroted back. Your features do not budge an inch.

“Y-yes. I’ve been —“

You interrupt, frankly too busy to listen to their rambling, “Then pray.”

“Huh?”

“You love me right? Then pray that I love you. Beg if you have to.”

Despite their flustered almost angered reaction to your command, your admirer felt their knees turn into a soggy noodle like substance. Their heart practically leapt at the opportunity to obey you.

“Only God will make me consider.”

Not even a moment passed before you were back to your duties, the confession long gone from your thoughts, “Tell Timothy for the 48th time, no. I do not want those devices of him in my room, and if I find another one I’m promptly sending in my resignation. Has Bruce confirmed?”

“Uh- oh!” The intern snapped out of their daze, scribbling furiously on their notepad.

You finally stopped where the guys were at, a bit befuddled by the way they were staring holes at you. Damian practically had a mix of panic, relief and anger painted all over him. “Yes, how may I be of assistance to you, young master?”

“I- I’m fine.”

“Richard, make sure to confirm your attendance.” You glared at the eldest brother.

He saluted in response, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Busy day?” Jason inquired, an attempt at small talk if you will.

“Busy day.” You swiftly cut off his olive branch. After making sure none of the men needed your presence with a quick once over, you make a bow and left. Your voice, though soft could still be heard, “Do I smell freesias? If, I see, freesias anywhere I will be verrryyy disappointed —“