#batsib reader

[brokenpinballmachine]

✶ moon rising at 12 o'clock

yan batfam x gn neglected reader

masterlist ch1 ch2(coming....)

a/n: hiii so like,, obviously I havent been on tumblr for like YEARS so excuse if anything looks bad. 2nd thing to get off: I am in now way like PRO EXPERT level, or whatever and this is mostly just for fun so expect like,,, shitty writing/characterization maybe, wonky time schedules etc. This is like my first post in like, what, 5 years?? maybe more?? Im quite new to the fandom so sorry for like any inconsistencies LMAO

TW: mentions of death, GN reader, slightly a crack fic (pov: my excuse to everything i write), neglect (OBV), english is NOT my first language... sorry yall... im not as american as you think..... sentence structure might be a little funky

word count: 3,662 words

summary: basically every batfam x neglected reader plot ever /w like multiverses or whatever,, inspired by a lot of authors + into the spiderverse

chapter 0: finding yourself

────── ₊˚⊹ ᰔ ──────

How many years has it been since you've last seen your mother?

You remember showing up at the door of the Gothic-styled manor, so excited, out of your mind, livid that you were the child of Bruce Wayne. What would you do? What would you say? Would you finally have the regular life that you've always dreamed of? To say you were ecstatic would be an understatement.

The butler next to you, who you soon found out was named Alfred Pennyworth, could only chuckle at your antics, holding your suitcases filled with clothes from your old house.

You were the child of Bruce Wayne and a prostitute who you knew as your mom. She wasn't home often, but that never wiped the smile off your face.

That stupid smile on your face.

Whenever something went wrong, you somehow managed to keep positive, to keep being optimistic. It was one of the traits that your friends always remembered, despite your upbringing.

When your mom did return home, though, she would place a few items of food on the table and leave once again. You never knew where she would run off to.

A vivid memory of your childhood is your mom coming home with another man, both of them turning in your direction when you decided to make yourself known.

It was strange. Why were they holding each other like that? Questions popped up in your mind, but they were shooed away with the flick of your mother's hand, telling you to go to bed. So you did.

You convinced yourself that night that maybe your mother was trying to make a change; perhaps she was finding you a dad? Yeah! That's it! She was just finding you a new dad so the three of you could finally live a normal, happy life. The stories of your classmates also filled your mind, and how their fathers would take them to the zoo, play baseball with them, and even allow them to put makeup on him. You wanted that. You just wanted a father.

When you woke up, you couldn't find either of them anywhere. Maybe they were planning a party for you?

Then a week passed by. Then another. And before you knew it, you had run low on the food supply your mother would always bring you, not knowing it was going to be your last.

You expected your mother to show up in the nick of time to save you from starvation, but it never happened. She never showed up.

Maybe… they were playing hide and seek?

You stopped showing up to school a week before your food supply finally ran out. You had portioned every last bit of food for each day, not allowing yourself to eat even an extra breadcrumb. Even if you never felt full, it was enough to keep you alive, even if you felt numb and more tired than usual.

Occasionally you would fall asleep on the couch, and you wouldn't even realize how long you had slept until you checked the time again.

That was until the day after your supply of food ran out; someone knocked on the door.

Opening it, you peeked your eyes out until they fell upon a tall police officer who seemed shocked at the sight of a small, malnourished child looking up at him, with heavy eye bags despite the constant rest you were getting. He asked you where your parents were. You shrugged.

Before you knew it, you found yourself in the police station as they questioned you endlessly about your parents and their whereabouts.

Your teacher had gotten worried about you not showing up to school or about your parents not answering any of their calls, so as a last resort, she called the police to make sure you weren't dead or anything.

Well, you might not have been dead, but you looked like you were about to pass out at any second.

Of course, when they found you in a dirty, broken-down home that almost looked abandoned, they started searching for your biological father immediately to see if he could house you. At the same time, they were also searching for your mother, but she seemed to either be missing or dead.

And you could still remember your own shocked face when they told you that the Bruce Wayne, multimillionaire, was your damn father. Even if your mom was missing, perhaps you could still have that life you always dreamed of with your dad?

As both Alfred and you went inside the manor, you followed him around like a little duckling as he gave you a tour of every room, and your wide-eyed face was plastered with a big smile as you ran around each room and explored every detail with your eyes.

It was bigger, better, and fancier than you could have ever imagined.

"Master Y/n, would you like to visit your father?" A voice snaps you out of your haze. You see Alfred standing near a door.

With a nod, your little legs run up to him, and the sound of pitter-patter comes from your shoes hitting the recently swept floors, echoing throughout the mansion.

"Master Wayne, your child has arrived."

Bruce didn't bother looking at you. His eyes remained on the many stacks of papers that cluttered his desk. A small cough from Alfred's mouth as he speaks up once more, repeating his sentence. This time, with a tired sigh, Bruce Wayne opens his mouth, each word coming out snappy and tired.

"Not now, Alfred; I'm busy."

And that was it. Those were the only words you heard him speak, and it wouldn't be until a few months later that you would hear him speak again—not towards you, of course, but that never swept off the smile on your face.

────── ₊˚⊹ ᰔ ──────

Richard "Dick" Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake.

The names of your three other siblings.

When you had first met Dick, you stared at him in awe. Your cheerful attitude clashed well with his own, and he would ruffle your hair whenever he talked to you. Well, at least for the first week you were in the manor.

Afterward, he would always give you an excuse, as if the free trial of him being a brother to you had ended. As if he was being held at gunpoint to be the "nice" brother.

"Sorry, Y/n! I'm going out tonight, but I think Tim isn't busy!"

"Sorry, Y/n, I'm feeling a little too tired today!"

Sorry for this, sorry for that. Excuses seemed to be the only thing that ever came out of his mouth nowadays. Whenever he saw you, he would rush out of the house as soon as you came in—like he didn't want to hurt your feelings with the expected answer he would always give you.

The warm light of the manor seemed to make you chillier every time he rejected you, but it was fine. You still had two other brothers, right?

Who were you kidding?

Jason seemed to always ignore you, no matter the situation. The times he did acknowledge you were to give you short answers—a simple "yes" or "no." It wasn't like you saw him a lot, anyway.

For Tim, it seemed to be the same thing, but he did actually live in the house. He pushed you away every second he got, not bothering to even make up an excuse.

It's fine. You had Alfred, you had his cooking, and you had the manor. You had a roof over your head, so you still smiled even if it was foolish of you to do so.

You were extremely grateful for Alfred, of course, being the only one who bothered to check in on you. In your spare time, he would even let you help him cook! Maybe it was something as simple as icing a few cookies or rolling some cookie dough, but you still appreciated his effort to make you feel acknowledged.

Then came Damian.

Oh dear, not Damian.

You were immediately intimidated by him from the moment he entered the house. Maybe it was the threat that came out of his mouth when he first laid his eyes on you, or the small cut he left on your collarbone—spoiler alert: it was both—you decided not to even try to socialize with him. It wasn't worth the risk.

So why was he more beloved in the house than you?

Was it because you decided not to become a vigilante?

Why did Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Tim all seem more fond of him than they ever had been of you, even though you had "known them" for longer? You were jealous, to say the least, but you didn't make your voice heard. It would just cause a mess, and you knew they were often busy, so you brushed it off as you usually would.

You held a small hope that they would eventually notice you, and that was enough for you to keep a childish smile on your face. The innocent smile remained, despite being aware of everything that was happening around you. Your twelfth birthday was just around the corner, and you planned to celebrate it as you usually did: alone with Alfred.

Of course, that didn't mean you wouldn't hand out little invitations. You slipped them underneath each of your brothers' doors, pouring your blood, sweat, and tears into every detail of the handwritten notes before moving on to the next sibling. They never came to your birthdays, but that wouldn’t stop you from trying.

"Master Y/n, where would you like me to hang the balloons?" Alfred's voice rang in your ears. When you looked in the direction of his voice, you noticed your favorite colored balloon in both of his hands, making the smile on your face grow wider. This might be the best birthday you had decorated, like, ever!

"You can hang them up in the corners of the room!" you giggled. "Or maybe we could scatter them on the ground!"

"I'm afraid that might be a safety hazard, Master Y/n," he replied.

You could only shrug. "Hey, it's not as bad as you think!" You gave him a lopsided grin. "I'm sure no one would slip on them!"

Right, quite literally 'no one,' because you knew none of your family members were actually going to show up. Both of you continued to set up as Alfred checked on the birthday cake, the scent of which wafted toward you.

Aw, he shouldn’t have! You could recognize the aroma of your favorite flavor anywhere, and the sight of it made the corners of your mouth drool too. You inconspicuously wiped it from the edges of your mouth, blushing a bit and hoping Alfred hadn’t noticed.

He lit the candle on the cake, and you both sang together.

Despite Bruce never being there for you, you could always count on Alfred. The cool wind blew against the faces of the rest of the family; each one wore a frown as they made their way toward Wayne Manor.

The moonlight illuminated the pathway ahead and shone against their suits, almost mockingly, as if highlighting the mistakes they had made that night.

You know when people say, “Well, it can’t get any worse, right?”

Unfortunately for them, everything went terribly wrong.

They even forgot it was your birthday, Alfred noticing the glitter you used from one of your cards shining in the trash can when he went to throw something away. He didn't have the confidence to tell you; he didn't want to ruin your special night.

So when they suddenly appeared in the dining room, yelling and arguing about whose fault it was, they stopped at the sight of the decorations scattered throughout the room.

Who would be celebrating at such a time? Was this a prank? Bruce had the birthdays of all his kids (minus you) memorized, so what were these balloons and party streamers for?

Then they saw you. They saw the cake next to you; they saw the smoke coming out of the candles, they saw the multiple plates placed on the table and how only two plates actually had silverware next to them, and they saw the childish smile on your face.

You couldn't believe it; your wishes came true! They actually came.

They couldn't believe it. Awkwardness filled the room, and they each fell silent. They hadn't meant to intrude.

Of course, it wasn't your fault that the night went wrong, but Damian couldn't handle it. Your birthday—why did it have to be today of all nights? It was as if you were mocking him for the failure that occurred in battle.

He scoffs, storming out of the kitchen and stomping on one of the balloons while exiting, effectively popping it on his way out.

The sound made you flinch, and it finally brought you out of your daze. You look at Alfred, and he looks back at you, giving you a reassuring nod. You had one chance, and you weren't going to mess this up.

"Oh—sorry! I can get a few more forks if you want some cake; Alfred worked really hard on—"

You were interrupted by Bruce, who raised a hand when you were about to scramble into the kitchen to get more forks.

"No need," he says, "I'll go check on Damian."

He leaves the room, and Jason quietly follows him, leaving you alone with Tim, Dick, and Alfred.

Dick gives you a guilty smile. "Sorry, Y/n, I need to go recharge my battery!" And with that, he leaves.

Tim said something similar to Dick, and soon enough, you were alone again with Alfred. You didn't understand why they seemed to avoid you like the plague, why they ignored you at every opportunity.

The cake tasted more bitter than usual when you took a bite, and for once, the smile faded from your face.

And somewhere out in the multiverse, tonight was the night that made you "snap."

────── ₊˚⊹ ᰔ ──────

Turning 18 was more uneventful than you would think it would be. You finally graduated high school, had a job at a local mart, and your family was still ignoring you. Yet your smile was still there; it was strained at times, but it still lay on your face unmoving, unchanging.

Alfred didn't know how you do it. If he were in your position, that smile would have been gone by the time he was age 10.

You hadn't thought much of moving out, but it was wavering in your head. You would mention it to the butler sometimes when the two of you conversed, much to his dismay.

You were also planning on going to college next year, maybe after you saved up a bit. You hadn't applied for a scholarship yet.

You should probably do that soon.

Your room was still your room despite everything. The colors of the walls seemed to be fading out, and the posters attached to them seemed to be in need of new tape.

What the hell do you do now that you have all the time in the world in your hands?

Well, you decided it would be eating.

You were hungry. That was literally the only reason you went downstairs, but instead, you instinctively started eavesdropping on the conversation between your family.

"—one of them had powers!" You heard a voice that sounded familiar to Dicks.

"What would they—doing here?" You weren't sure, but the tone of this one sounded familiar to Jason.

"Im not sure—careful, they—look out,"

A new voice seemed to join in. "Not—database, I think—the three of them—our side?"

"It doesn't matter—destroy them—" You were sure that voice was Damians.

"Dont trust—need to be careful." This voice sounded older than all of them; it had to be Bruce's. "Who were they? —only appeared today."

Damn, look at you! You were such a great detective. You were able to figure out each person based on the voices. At least you got your detectiveness (you're not sure if this is a word, but you don't care either way) from your dad.

Oh well, they could worry about that themselves. You needed to worry about what to do next.

You make your way through the manor, but an unease seems to be creeping up and into you. Maybe you were just hungry again? Something just felt...off.

You scratched it off as just being worried about deciding what you would be in the future, but the unease never seemed to leave.

When you approached your room, you realized what was wrong. 3 new figures were located in your room. One was sitting on the window, one was standing next to the window, and one seemed to be crouching near the floor.

Each one of them looked familiar, like you.

And you screamed—or were about to until a hand rudely interrupted you and slammed against your mouth.

"Don't fucking try it." The person standing next to the window was gone and instead appeared behind you with their hand over your mouth.

"Vg/n! Don't be rude!" The one sitting on the window cries out expressively as their fancy, almost magical-like, white clothing with f/c accents seemed to bounce. They had a ginormous bow on their chest that seemed quite inefficient to wear.

The person behind you, whom you assumed was Vg/n, only sighed. "We can't let them alert the others," The person sitting on the floor cackles, "As if the family would actually come up to check on them, you think they fuckin' care?"

"No, but Alfred might," Vg/n retorts.

You were confused as hell, but your questions were soon answered when the Vg/n spoke up. "Look, it may not seem like it, but we're all you. Or rather, alternate versions of you."

They remove the hand from your mouth, and you voice out your confusion. "What?"

"Im the version of you where you become a vigilante,"

"Im the one where you become awesome and cute!—" The one sitting on the floor is cut off by the one sitting on the window who is suddenly next to you. "Ignore them, they're V/n, it's you when you become a villain," They have a hand on the side of their mouth as they whisper to you, giggling as V/n throws out a little 'hey!' from the rude interruption.

"Im M/n! I'm the version of you where you become... magical!" M/n strikes a pose with a wand they have in their hand.

It's a lot for you to take in, and you stand there, quiet.

"Ya think we broke 'em?" V/n interrupts you from your train of thought.

You shake your head as they speak. "No, no, sorry, I just... how—why are you here?"

"Well, that's what we're trying to figure out too!" M/n tries to smile reassuringly at you. "We were just doing our business in our universes, and BOOM! we're suddenly together in an alleyway."

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Vg/n staring at V/n with an analytical look, and you had to hold in your laughter.

It must've been like whiplash to them when they found their opposite counterpart.

"Wait—so if you're all alternate versions of me, then... what version am I?"

"Well, you're like the past!" M/n's bow bounces freely on their chest. "Or you can also be the 'true' Y/n if you'd like, but that's debated,"

"Past...? How old are you guys??"

"It depends on who you're asking, but we're all around the age of 23-24!"

You stare at them in shock. Were you going to grow up into one of them? Vg/n... they looked cold, hard, almost like a mini-Bruce. They seemed to always have a frown on your face, opposed to you, who always had a smile. Scars were littered all over their body, both on the inside and outside, and you could tell with a single glance they had been through a lot.

V/n. They seemed to look much better than Vg/n, but at the same time, they seemed more cruel. As if their sense of justice was blurred between the fence of good and evil, as if they had lost themselves.

M/n was different as a whole from the other two. They appeared more 'innocent,' more 'playful,' but the smile on their face seemed to be more forced at the same time.

"So, you guys are trying to get home?"

"That's the gist of it," V/n commented.

"Well, we could ask—"

Suddenly, the three of them spoke up, yelling at you with a big fat no. Jeez, their bat families couldn't have been as bad as yours, right?

Vg/n only sighed at your puzzled face, answering the question that lingered in your mind without you having to speak up. "Basically, our lives were changed on our twelfth birthday. I decided to become a vigilante; V/n wanted revenge, and M/n found a ring that made them, well… magical. Our lives were basically the same up to that point, maybe aside from a few personality differences."

So they were just as bad. Even alternate versions of you couldn't catch a break.

"Well, we should at least discuss this somewhere else; I'm getting sick of this manor," V/n scoffed.

Vg/n didn't say anything, but you could tell they agreed with V/n too, even if they didn't want to side with a villain.

"Off we go!!!" With their wand pointed high, M/n ran out of the room with a cheer, alerting both V/n and Vg/n to chase after your other alternate self, with you following in pursuit. You couldn't even make it to the exit of the manor until you ran into your family.

Your whole big-ass family.

Not even one member—your WHOLE FUCKING FAMILY—OH MY GOD. At the WORST time ever too.

"It's you!" Tim exclaimed.

"It's me!" M/n exclaimed with glee. Vg/n and V/n got into their positions, and so did the rest of the Batfamily.

You knew this was going to turn into a mess.

────── ₊˚⊹ ᰔ ──────

a/n 2: hii ok so for vg/n and v/n you can think of whatever outfit you want, but for m/n, im thinking of like, a madoka type outfit if your going for feminine, or a suit /w a cape (and the inside is the f/c accent) if ur going for masculine!! both masc and fem outfits have a bow on the chest area!

here are the theme songs!!

(M/n = Magical name, V/n = Villain name, Vg/n = Vigilante Name)

M/n: Magnetic - Illit, and fight theme would be Right Now - Newjeans (instrumental)

V/n: Demons - Doja Cat, and fight theme would be Yummy - Ayesha Erotica

Vg/n: Homesick - Wave to Earth

[invincibledc]

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

Dick: Rude.

Damian: That’s fair.

Jason: Not again.

Tim : Are you going to want this back?

[cosmosluckycharms]

Bug like angel

You're here, that's the thing

You woke up the next day.

You were on the fancy velvet family couch you were never allowed on.

The couch was where every movie night, every game night, and every family hangout would happen.

The same ones you'd never be invited to.

You looked up to see Bruce and Miguel sitting in the pristine, white dining room arguing over something.

They lowkey looked like a divorced couple fighting over the ustody of their child.

You let out a giggle at that thought.

You got up and tried to stabilize yourself, still healing from the stab wound from yesterday.

You had a runny nose and a slight sore throat from the rain yesterday.

You hated your spidey luck sometimes.

As you got closer to Miguel and Bruce, you could make out some of their argument.

"She's staying with us, it's for the best," Bruce said, crossing his arms.

"Since when do you decide what's good for her?" Miguel argued, standing up from the seat he was sitting on.

"I am her father. I decide what's best for her," Bruce said, still keeping a straight face.

"you haven't been a father to her at all." Bruce flinched slightly at Miguel's words.

Miguel continued, "You were never her father. You were nothing but a sperm donor." Miguel put his hand on his hips, his bold red eyes piercing into Bruce's blue ones.

"When were you when she needed you? Where were you on her birthday? Where were you at her performances and concerts? You don't know anything about her." Miguel slammed the table in front of him, and Bruce's neutral facade faltered.

"I am still her father. we are blood." Bruce raised his voice.

"The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb."

Miguel and Bruce were now full-on arguing.

A full-on screaming match.

You decided to intervene, you just wanted to go home.

"What's going on?" They both couldn't hear you, and you saw Miguel about to flip the expensive dining room table.

You weren't against him breaking anything Bruce owned, but that table cost way more than Miguel could afford.

You ran up to him "Hold on a minute, please won't you listen?"

They both stopped to look at you.

Bruce spoke up "Are you doing better now, sweetie?" You cringed at the nickname he gave you.

"I'm fine. What's going on?"

There was a tense silence for a moment.

"C'mon, spit it out. I wanna go home." You put your hands on your hips, copying Miguel's stance

"You're going to stay with us," Bruce said, his piercing blue eyes glaring at Miguel.

"What?! You can't do that! Dad, tell him he can't do that!" you pulled on Miguel's sleeve like a tall child

Miguel looked and you and looked away guiltily.

"Dad? What's going on? Tell him he can't force me to stay!" You were tearing up.

You didn't want to stay.

You didn't want to be back where everything went wrong.

You didn't want to see everyone play happy family while you sat in a corner sobbing.

"I'm sorry, but you're 16 and can't legally stay with me. I'm so sorry, arañanita." you tried to suppress your tears, only for them to all spill out when he hugged you.

You felt like a child.

"This isn't fair." your lip slightly trembled.

Bruce put a hand on your shoulder which made you flinch and push his hand away.

"Don't touch me." you shrunk into Miguel's arm more.

You hated being here. You just wanted to go home.

"Can't we agree on something else? Like maybe one week each person, or something?" you tried to reason

Bruce raised an eyebrow "What do you mean?"

"I mean like, one week with with Miggy and another with you. Wouldn't that be easier?"

Miguel was about to agree with you when Bruce interrupted "No."

"Why not? Everyone would be happy!" You tried to reason

"Because I'm your father and that's final."

You rolled your eyes at that.

"What?! That's so not fair!"

"life isn't fair." Bruce started practically pushing Miguel out the door.

You started clinging onto Miguel by his leg, you didn't want him to leave.

It took your father and your brothers to separate you and Miguel.As soon as Miguel left, you

ignored your family's offerings to hang out with them.

You were in your room, still sulking about what happened.

You were texting your friends everything.

You heard a knock at the door and tried to ignore it.

You weren't in the mood to talk to any of them.

After a couple of minutes of knocking, Bruce got impatient and let himself in."Why didn't you open the door?"

"I didn't feel like getting up." You kept texting your friends, not even looking at him.

He took a seat on the edge of your bed. "Look, since you're already here, why not go out? We could go to that one, uh, museum you wanted to go to a while ago." You glared at him.

"I asked to go there years ago. My friends already took me there."

"Oh, is there any other place you'd like to go? or anything you'd like to do?"

"I want you to go away. I'm sick and you just pulled me away from my friends." You kept scrolling on your phone

Bruce sighed and left your room.

Next to annoy you was Dick.

You were in the kitchen trying to get a snack when you heard his agitating, grating voice.

"Hey, baby bird!" He was going to ruffle your hair, but you swiftly avoided it due to your spidey senses.

"Don't call me that." You continued to look for your favorite snack.

"Why not?" he playfully pouted

You started giving up hope on finding the snack, it wasn't anywhere! "Because I said so."

He saw you were struggling to find something. "What are you looking for?"

"Nunya." you crossed your arms and started looking in the fridge.

"look, if you're hungry, we can go to that one restaurant you wanted to go to! How does that sound?" he smiled.

"I asked for that years ago. I already went there with Miguel anyway." You walked away into your room not caring how dick was slightly frowning.

You were in your room fixing your belongings.

If you're going to be forced to live here up till you're 18, you might as well make everything look nice.

While you were organizing your closet, your spidey senses went off.

You turned around to see it was warning you about the door, and suddenly Jason barged in.

"Get ready, I'm gonna teach you how to ride a motorcycle."

"No thanks, Jess already taught me." You continued to fold the clothes

"Who's Jess?" Jason raised an eyebrow

"A friend. Look, can you just leave me alone? I want some alone time."

"I'm your older brother, you can't kick me out of your room." He crossed his arms.

"Except I can. Get out." You started pushing him out of your room, your strength surprising him.

Tim was in his room when he remembered about that one time you asked him if he could fix your computer.

You accidentally gave it a virus downloading Sims mods, and it was tweaking.

Tim was the most tech-savvy person you knew, so you asked him.

Unfortunately for you, he was working on a tiring case.

He was in a bad mood and half-asleep, so it wasn't a surprise when he yelled at you to go away.

Sure, it had been 2 years since then, but he still felt bad.

He made his way to your room, noticing how separated it was from the others.

When he got to your room and opened your door (you seriously need to get a lock) he saw you were face timing one of your friends and laughing.

He cleared his throat and your smile fell.

"I'll call you back later, bye Pavi!" you hung up and looked at Tim "What do you want?"

He smirked "Wow, so hostile. Do you still need me to fix your computer? I have time now.

"You rolled your eyes. "it's fine now, peni fixed it for me."

"Are you sure? I could probably add an upgrade or two, or maybe get you a new one?" He put his hand on his neck

"Yes I'm sure, you can leave now." You shooed him away with your hands and started calling Pavitr again.

Tim scoffed and walked away.

Last but not least, Damian.

He was always a headache.

Ever since you were younger, it's like he was out to get you.

He wouldn't ignore you or push you away like the others, instead, he would threaten and berate you.

No matter how much you tried, he'd always go out of his way to push you around.

You learned to stay out of his way.

You assumed he would still hate you, so you continued to avoid him.

It was surprising when he walked up to your room and demanded you to watch him train.

Not wanting to get stabbed by him, you begrudgingly agreed.

You were being escorted into the training room and saw a chance to practice your moves.

While he wasn't looking, you snuck away to practice your tricks.

It was the perfect place to do it as well, huge gymnastics area, rock climbing walls, and hurdles.

You were having the time of your life!

After around 10 minutes you noticed Damian looking for you, with Dick helping him.

You sighed and continued practicing.

Your way of swinging and moving was Heavily inspired by Gwen and Pavitr's, all the spider kids trained together so it wasn't much of a surprise.

After training for a couple more minutes, you noticed Dick and Damian had found you.

Dick was surprised you knew how to be that flexible and have a lot of movement and personality in your tricks.

As soon as you sat down to take a water break, Dick and Damian ran up to you.

"Where did you learn how to move like that? did you do gymnastics?" Dick sat down next to you, only for you to scoot away.

"No. I learned from Pavi." You took another sip of your water

"Was he the one who came to the manor last year? The punk?" He took a sip of his water

"No, that's Hobie." you got up and walked away, ignoring Dicks other questions.

Dick just sighed in defeat and watched as Damian ran after you.

Damian would not leave you alone.

The whole way to your room, he was complaining and berating you.You tried slamming your door in his face, but he fought back.

Suddenly you were trying to push him out of your room like the others and he pushed a bag of yours onto the floor.

After a couple of minutes of you both tumbling around, he finally left.

You let out a sigh of relief and went to pick up the bag.

Once you picked it up you noticed it felt a slight bit heavier, less empty.

You grabbed what was making it so heavy and noticed it was a watch.

The watch you needed to move universes.

Miguel must've snuck it in there while dropping you off.

You put it on, and right as you were about to go back to Miguel's universe, your spidey senses went off yet again.

You quickly turned off the watch and pretended you were playing on your phone again.

This time it was Alfred.

You assumed he was going to scold you for fighting Damian yet again.

You prepared yourself only to be met with something you didn't expect.

"The others are expecting your presence in the theater room."

Movie nights.

The same movie nights you longed to be a part of years ago.

This time, you didn't want to be part of it.

"No thanks, I'm busy." You continued to scroll on your phone.

"You must've misheard me. They're requiring your presence." Alfred walked away before you could argue.

You sighed and put on some slippers.

This was gonna be a long two years.

hi ik rhis chapter is sloppy and rushes BUT THIS TIME I ACTUALLY HAVE EN EXCUSE

i typed all od this at a wedding lmfao

yeah rheyre mareying the love of their life but im updating a fic so whos really winning

anyway

taglist(please lmk if i forgot you!): @bath1lda @mariadvorak @coralaura @tsxukikami @hjgdhghoe @coffeeaddictxd @cxcilla @kaitense1 @star-girl-interlud3 @sukaretto-n @welpthisisboring @itsberrydreemurstuff @lovebug-apple @crazycaoticsimp @bellethesleepypotato @blackhood1229 @jsprien213 @sirenetheblogger @awawage @holybatflapexpert @vanessa-boo @ryuushou @whiskeygirl7 @seemeee3 @inojinieeee @oliviaewl @djpuppy-kittens @w31rd3rg1rl @br33zy-blizzardz @eyeless-kun @strangelymid @twismare @cat-lover-over-9000 @jaemindontberude @galaxypurplerose @paastaboi @senhoritaapple @whiskeygirl7 @chezze-its

[oddlylovingaddiction]

; Coming Full Circle

Part 1: Here , Part 2 (You’re here), Part 3: Here , Part 4: Here

Sorry that it took so long everyone, I’m close to graduation now and I’ve been busy, however I hope this is good!

CW: Reader is pregnant BUT is gender neutral only being referred to as you, if you don’t have the ability to get pregnant you do now (in this series). Neglected reader x (platonic.) bat family. Reader is probably around in your 20s (21 - 25) and is the 5th(??) oldest. READER ALSO HAS NO IDEA THAT THE WAYNE FAMILY ARE SUPERHEROS (for now…) Reader is also bit emotional because of pregnancy hormones.

TW: Past abuse in the form of emotional neglect, Pregnancy, Arguments

The Garden was warm, you could almost relax and drink your tea peacefully.

Keyword being almost. Because unfortunately you were surrounded and being interrogated by some of your siblings. Dick, Tim, Cassandra, Jason and Damian.

“Who’s your husband?” Cassandra asks curiously. You really didn’t want to tell them anything but it’s clear if you ignore them, Tim the cyber stalker will just drag it up.

“I’d like to keep my private life—.” You go to reply but Damian interrupts, “I bet you the husband is made up.” and for some reason Jason nods along. Ever since yesterday Damian has stuck by you, anywhere you go in the mansion he’s somehow lurking behind you or around you in general. You’re not sure why especially since when you woke up he had gone.

“He is real.” You scoff your face bunching up in annoyance. “Oh yeah then why isn’t he here with you right now then?” Jason questions clearly not believing you like Damian. “… we had a small fight.” You reply slowly, concern blooming on all of their faces. It feels you with a mixed feeling… happy that finally some people in your family are concerned and also annoyed because they have no damn right to look at you like that. “I thought you said it was a disagreement?” Damian argued.

“It was on his end… but I suppose it was more of a fight on mine.” You mumble embarrassed, leaning your head on your hand to cover your mouth.

“What was the fight over?” Cassandra asks and you wince. You realllyyyyy didn’t want to answer that but you don’t want them to think of the worst scenario about you and your husband.

“It… was over the colour of the nursery walls…” You whisper-mumble closing your eyes shut. “Huh?” Tim replies.

“It was over the colour of the nursery walls…” you say still whispering but not mumbling anymore. “Can you speak up? I don’t think any of us caught that.” Dick adds.

“IT WAS OVER THE COLOUR OF THE NURSERY WALLS OKAY?!” You burst out standing up quickly as you slam your hands on the table.

Everyone goes silent as you sink back into your chair hands over your face embarrassed. “That’s it? Are you serious??” Jason grunted clearly he thinks you’re insane for choosing to stay with family over the colour of some walls. And you admit “it does sound ridiculous but in my head at the time it was a lot bigger of a deal…” you feel so embarrassed.

Surprisingly Damian pats your shoulder gently while you’re slouched over, “I support you and your future divorce. Because if he can’t let you pick the wall colour then what else will he do? His lover is pregnant, he should give in.” He advises which just makes you even more embarrassed because you can’t believe you’re being comforted by a kid. Cassandra also leans in and pats you on the back as well, at this point you’re wondering if you could just bury yourself in a hole.

“This is so stupid…” Jason mutters, “Why…” Tim adds and you can hear Dick trying not to laugh at the absurdity. “Pregnancy hormones.” You can hear Cassandra whisper-mouths as a reply to Tim.

“You guys don’t have to comfort me, I know it’s dumb.” You say finally looking up at them all as Cassandra and Damian retract their hands. “If you know just go back.” Jason frowns before Dick elbows him in the ribs. “I would but it just feels too embarrassing…” you sigh. You can’t believe you’re having this conversation with people a phew years ago probably wouldn’t notice if you were dead. “Is that it?” Tim probes, he knows that there’s got to be more than you’re letting onto, which there is.

“And… because I can’t help but be worried… what if this is the first fight before it gets worse? If we are arguing now what will happen when the baby is here? What if he doesn’t love me anymore because of this?” You confess. Your husband is the closet to you and you can’t bear to imagine losing or fighting with.

“It was just one argument if he doesn’t still love you over and chooses to fight with you more, then just kill him.” Jason stated to which earned a bunch of glares from the table, minus Damian who shrugged in agreement.

“Don’t listen to Jason just divorce him if he does that.” Cassandra proposes clearly uncomfortable with the talk of murder. You laugh softly. You choose to just hum in acknowledgment of their words, a small knot tying in your heart. It feels like your head is full of lead, everything right now going on with your husband and being around your family again it’s all too much.

“I think I’m just going to go relax…” you say picking up your purse. But instead of going towards the front door you go to the nearest car. “Wait!? Where are you going?!” Dick calls after you confused as everyone stands up and follows behind you confused.

“Retail therapy.” You grin as you turn around to smile at them.

You didn’t expect them to follow you. But perhaps you should’ve. You also should’ve stayed with your husband instead of coming back to the manor.

You shake your head trying to refocus on shopping and not focus on all the things overwhelming you right now..

You immediately spot your favourite store, it was a department store that had everything from food to clothes to the strangest items you’ve ever seen in your life. The last time you went you saw a statue of Abraham Lincoln in drag, a smut book of the current president and his political opponent and a dress covered in buttons.

“What is this.” Damian pointed at the store. The store had a sort of rundown look that immediately you probably wouldn’t go in now however since you’ve been here since you were just a bored teen who used to explore Gotham without a care in the world. “A store.” You say bluntly as you walk past them and head in, not bothering to explain anymore. Of course you’re not free of them yet since they also go in with you.

The store inside is similar to a warehouse inside, the only thing separating it from being an actual warehouse is the decoration on the floors and ceilings. You decide to peak at the clothing isle first, they usually have some cute baby clothes.

It seems they have continued to follow you, Dick grabs two shirts and checks their price tags before looking at you confused, “why is everything so cheap?” He frowns. You scowl right back in reply, “Because I’m basically their only customer, Richard.” You flip your head back around and walk off determined to get to the kids section. You knew a Dick wasn’t trying to attack you personally but you loved this damn store and you wouldn’t let anyone ruin that for you.

Two items in the baby’s section stood out and you could decide which one to buy. One was a onesie, it looked liked it was based off of that one popular kid’s book caterpillar and the other being watermelon overalls. Whatever you’ll just get both. After all your kid should be well dressed and have a bunch of different choices. As you held the clothing, it felt weird to hold up such tiny articles of clothing, to know you’ll have to give birth to a little life makes you all nervous and emotional. You can feel a small lump in your throat forming, you pull out your phone and check the messages from your husband. You usually did that when you were feeling emotional it helped you calm down. You forgot that you were currently ignoring him so when you opened up the messages you just felt even worse.

New messages from: My Superhero ❤️💍

“My love, please. I’m sorry we can do your choice okay?”

“I know you’re upset but I have checked almost every hotel and they say you aren’t staying with any of them.”

“The love of my life you are very pregnant, hormonal and quite frankly a little tiny bit insane. I’m worried about you.”

Okay the insane bit was unnecessary and lowkey pissed you off all over again. You had to pull yourself out of the baby clothing section and your phone otherwise you’d end up just buying everything and calling your husband to yell at him for that line. Instead you choose to loiter around the kids section instead. Never hurts to prepare yourself for the future of the kid after all. It also seems Cassandra, Tim, Jason, Dick and Damian finally caught up to you.

“What are you looking at? Do you have another kid we don’t know about because none of those will fit right now.” Jason points out and you roll your eyes. “Just looking.” You reply. Then you suddenly glance at Damian and get a wicked idea. You think Damian suddenly got the chills because he looked up at you and realized your plan. You think the others had the same idea because they all shared the same acknowledging look.

Every outfit you, Cass and Dick picked were really cute on Damian, from little Tuxedos to everyday wear that just made him look so adorable despite his protests. While Tim’s and Jason’s were straight hilarious, Jason picked out at one point a giraffe onesie and Damian practically launched himself at Jason. The only reason he tried it on is because everyone begged him to. Through the entire process Damian scowled and complained. However he still did it anyways, Maybe he liked the attention on him. He is a kid after all.

This time Damian walks out in the last outfit you picked for him.

You really don’t know why you started to cry. Or why you ran to Damian and held him in your arms. Hell you can’t really remember a lot that happened after that, you just remember everyone looking concerned, especially Damian as he looked up at you panicked. Then you remember falling asleep in the car ride home.

[hearts4mica]

Darling never grow up

Imagine l Jon looking up to Batsis like an older sister and her reciprocating and Damian not liking sharing his sister.

Platonic! Jon Kent and batsis

Masterlist Part 2 Here!

———————————————————————————

——————————————————————————— The first time Jon went to the Wayne Manor was after school. Alfred drove them home to “do a proyect” to hang out.

The first time Jon met you was in the kitchen where you were grabbing some ice cream.

———————————————————————————

You felt someone watching you, so you turned around expecting that someone to be Damian cause that person was silent but when you turned around-

It was a small child well not that small- a short child around Damian’s age.

He looked at you. He had big blue eyes, he was staring directly into your soul. Just like those people with blue eyes do, he had a baby face.

You had never seen him in your whole life.

“Hello there uhm what is your name hun?” You ask curiously.

Was he another child Bruce adopted?

“Im Jon! Damian’s bff- ‘BFF’ means Best Friend Forever if case you didn’t know!” He said excitedly.

Wow. He was a really extroverted kid quite the opposite of Damian he reminded you somehow to Dick. Big blue eyes, extroverted- maybe being extroverted was a rule to have blue eyes?

In Jon’s side well he had never met you before. He didn’t even know that Damian had an older sister! He only knew his brothers.

You blink you didn’t know Damian had friends. Not in a mean way obviously but he always seemed so closed about this subject.

“Well it’s a pleasure to meet you Jon. Are you perhaps looking for Damian?”

“Nope just looking for water!” He answered happily.

“Oh well let me help you then”.

———————————————————————————

In that moment Jon decided that he was adopting you as his older sister.

———————————————————————————

Some time after Jon flew home, you went into Damian’s room.

He was laying down on his bed reading some random book he probably stole from Jason.

“Soo?” you ask with a small smile on your face

“So what?” [name] be specific.” He says in a bored tone not taking his eyes off his book.

“You have a friend! Dami you listened to my advice! Im soo happy for you” you throw yourself onto his bed and hug him.

He sighs annoyedly and hugs you back. You knew he wasn’t annoyed tho. He loved you as much as you loved him

“It’s not a big deal-“ “Yes it is Dami! Now tell me everything!”

“You’re as annoying as Grayson when he found out”

“So everyone already knew but me?!- oh! my poor heart!”

———————————————————————————

The next time Jon came over was for a sleepover.

_________________________________________

There was a knock on the door. You were the closest to the door so you went to open it.

There was Jon wearing his superman pajamas holding a small plushie and a blanket, you let him into the Manor and welcome him.

You tell him that Damian is currently showering so he decides to hang out with you in the meantime.

“So how’s school Jon?”

“It’s really good! And everyone is nice and teachers teach well and- lunch is well eateable i guess” he starts rambling but you don’t mind he somehow reminds you of your brothers

“Im glad you like school” “Yeah me too!”

“Jon what are you doing here?” Damian walks into the room wearing his themed pajamas Dick bought for him.

“Oh im just hanging out with [name]! Telling her sbout school and teachers and food and work an-“

“yeah okay we get it Jon let’s go we have things to do” Damian grabs Jon’s hand and drags him to his room

“Bye [name]!” He frantically waves his hand goodbye.

———————————————————————————

“Your sister is really nice Damian! I really like her!”

“Mhm”

“Why didn’t you tell me like ever you had a sister! We could share sisters?!- i mean i don’t have one but yeah why don’t you share?”

“Share? What?- No.”

“No what?”

“I am not sharing my sister Jon.”

“Why not?!” Jon pouts

“She is my sister get one yourself!”

“Sharing is caring!”

“I don’t care for you”.

“So not true! We are BFF’s”

———————————————————————————

The next time he comes over to the Wayne Manor he brings you a small gift

———————————————————————————

“Hello [name]! I made this for you!” He gives you a small bracelet that said ‘Sis KW’.

“What does Sis KW mean Jon?”

“It mean Sister Kent Wayne!”

“Oh?- That’s really cute Jon! Did you make it yourself?”

“Yes i did” he says seeming really proud of his creation.

“Sister Kent Wayne?!” Damian grabs the bracelet “Jon! she is my sister! Not yours you idiot!

“Damian don’t be rude! I already have 4 brothers 1 more wouldn’t make a big difference!.” Grabs the bracelet back. “Its a nice gesture. Thank you Jon i’ll definitely wear it.”

Jon smiles “Thanks [name] you’re the best!.”

“Jon . A word.”

———————————————————————————

“You can’t give my sister a bracelet! And even less one that says Sister Kent Wayne! And you dare to put the W of Wayne on the second place! After Kent?!”

“Why not? It’s not like it says [name] Kent! I added Wayne there!”

“Because she is not your sister!”

“Three words! IDC!”

“Those are letters!”

“IDC!”

———————————————————————————

Reposts, comments and likes are appreciated!

Requests are open!

Masterlist

Part 2

———————————————————————————

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

Little werewolf!reader

When you were a kid, you couldn't control your shifting, so when Bruce came to visit you, he was confused why his daughter/son was a little wolf pup until you sneezed and turned back to normal, just with big wolf ears and the cutest tail wagging around. You were way too playful if the bats left you out on a long mission on patrol. When they finally came back, you pounced on Bruce, knocking the wind out of his chest. Even though he was heavily armed with Kevlar, you managed to leave the man staggering for breath. As you got older, well, it became a kind of problem; you were almost taller than Bruce and Jason, and your wolf form was no joke—towering over them, and that ruins Dick. Why? BECAUSE he used to give you uppies when you were little, but now he can barely lift you off the ground. The last time he picked you up, you were 2 inches off the ground, and you were just 16; now you're 19, and he can't even get your feet off the ground. Now he's working out like crazy, and by crazy, I mean he's going insane at the family gym just so he can pick you up like he used to. Alfred hates when you’re in wolf form just because you leave hair around the house. If he's wearing a fresh, clean suit, you rub against him gently, and now he's covered in black fur. You're snuggling with Tim, and his hoodies are covered in your fur, and he's running out of lint rollers. Then he just realizes not to care anymore. Plus, napping with you in werewolf form is the best.

[rikudaa]

₊⊹ ᶻz !! Echoes in the Hall !! ␥

Batfam x Reader | You are here!! >>>

✮ Epitome: It’s that time of the year again.

The Manor’s old chapel smells like wax and lavender.

It always has. But today, the scent drapes heavier than usual—settled into the dust like memory, like grief with its coat hung up and staying awhile.

The wood beneath Alfred’s shoes creaks with every step. He walks slowly, reverently, like if he moves too quickly, the air might shatter… or worse, wake you. As if somewhere inside this hush, you’re only sleeping. Just tucked away behind one of the pews, knees up, head bowed, breath misting against a story too big for your age.

You used to sit here when the rain was too cruel outside.

Legs swinging, nose buried in a battered mystery novel you’d found in Bruce’s library. Your feet never touched the floor, not even once. You always wanted to look solemn, look wise. But your eyes would keep flicking toward the stained-glass windows, chasing the colored light. Your lips would twitch every time Alfred pretended not to notice.

“This candle,” he used to say, striking the match with practiced grace, “is for those we miss.”

You frowned the first time. That very serious, very you kind of frown.

“But what if they come back?”

He’d smiled then—slow and warm, like melted sugar in tea.

“Then it’ll still be burning.”

Today, he lights that candle again.

Not for Thomas Wayne.

Not for Martha.

But for you.

It flickers. The flame dances uncertainly, casting soft, trembling light against the dark wood pews.

Your pew–the one closest to the far window, where your rain-drenched umbrella used to lean. The rug beneath it is still faintly stained, a muddy crescent Alfred never quite got out. He’d never really tried.

He stands there for a long time. Doesn’t speak. Doesn’t blink.

Just breathes.

Just remembers.

•

Later then he’s preparing tea for tea time at dining room.

The tea is already steeped when he sets it down–your favorite blend. Two sugars. No milk. A little too sweet for anyone else’s taste, but you always claimed it made your brain sharper.

The cup sits across from him at the end of the long, too-empty dining table.

No one sits there anymore.

Except for one.

A gray stuffed cat, fur matted with age and affection, slouches in the high-backed chair. Its seams are loose, belly bulging slightly from years of bedtime wrestling.

You loved that thing more than any of the designer plushies Bruce ever tried to substitute it with. Said it “understood things.”

Alfred smooths the cat’s fur with steady fingers, then adjusts the lopsided ribbon you once tied around its neck. Crooked. Purple. Fraying. He never had the heart to retie it properly.

“There we are,” he murmurs, satisfied.

And then he sits.

He doesn’t look at the tea. Not right away.

Instead, he talks to the cat.

To the chair.

To the air, heavy with your laughter. With your scent. With the echo of a life too short, too bright.

“I polished your room today,” he says softly. “Even dusted the top of the bookshelf. Folded your blanket just the way you liked– military corners, heaven forbid. Picked the lint off that ridiculous green sweater you always wore on rainy days.”

His voice begins to shake, just slightly.

“I don’t know why.”

He pauses.

His hand comes to rest against the table, knuckles pale. His eyes sting, but the tears don’t fall yet. Not here. Not in front of the cat. Not where you might still be watching.

“I just thought you might…” he swallows. “Need it.”

The tea cools.

Outside, rain begins to tick against the windows, just like it used to.

Alfred closes his eyes and breathes in the scent of lavender and bergamot.

Pretends for a second–that your muddy shoes will squeak down the hall, that your voice will call his name with sleepy cheer, that you’ll flop down beside him with a sigh and a smile, asking for toast.

He opens his eyes.

Stillness. Still.

Then, finally, he speaks—not to the room, not to the candle, not even to himself.

But to you.

“As long as I remember,” he whispers, “you’re not gone.”

And the candle burns.

───── ୨୧ ─────

Dick’s fists split open again.

He doesn’t feel it, not right away–doesn’t notice until the sweat dripping from his jaw darkens where it lands. The mat beneath him is smeared with it now: blood, sweat, ghost-shadows. Guilt that bleeds through his skin like poison.

He keeps going.

Jab. Cross.

Hook. Elbow.

Repeat until the rhythm drowns out the silence in his chest.

He doesn’t grunt. Doesn’t yell. He trains with a silence so loud it buzzes in his ears, fists slamming into the bag like he’s trying to fight God. Or fate. Or himself.

The room smells of iron and regret. It stinks. The old kind. The kind you can’t wash out. Not even with fire.

When he finally stops, it’s not because the pain hits—it’s because he can’t breathe through it anymore.

He stumbles back, drops against the wall, slides down until he’s crouched low, fists resting uselessly against his knees. His chest heaves. Sweat stings the corner of his eyes.

“Goddammit,” he mutters.

And then, quieter–barely audible, like a breath leaking from the deepest part of him, he whispers your name.

Sometimes it sounds like an apology.

Sometimes like a question.

Always like a wound.

•

When you were small.

You used to throw yourself at him the second he walked in the door, sticky hands, tangled hair, face lit up like Gotham had never been anything but safe.

He always smelled like leather, sweat, and the overwashed cotton of his favorite t-shirts. You said he smelled like “outside” and “fun.” He said you smelled like cereal and trouble.

You clung to him like a koala, legs wrapped around his waist, tiny arms choking his neck. He’d pretend to stumble, groaning, “You’re getting too heavy, kid—gonna squish me like a pancake,” and you’d scream with laughter, daring him to fall.

“You’re my favorite person,” you once told him, curled into his side after patrol, your voice gummy with sleep.

Not ‘brother.’ Not ‘hero.’ Just person. Like that was the most sacred title in the world.

He laughed. Ruffled your hair. “Don’t let the others hear that,” he said.

And then he left.

Blüdhaven called. So did the idea of being more than a shadow. He needed distance from Bruce. From the cave. From the mission. He told himself he deserved to carve his own path.

You’d cried. Like a child. Because you were one.

He kissed your forehead and promised, “I’ll be back all the time, dummy.”

He wasn’t.

Not that night.

Not when it counted.

Not when you needed him most.

•

Now.

Sometimes he walks the rooftops just to feel closer to you. Retracing steps from that night you begged to see Gotham from above–your first time.

The look in your eyes as the city spread beneath you like a secret. How your hands clutched his arm, not out of fear, but awe.

Once, not long ago, he swore he saw you.

Just a flicker. A shape turning the corner. A shadow with your gait. A laugh that echoed and shattered him.

“Y/N!” he shouted, lunging forward.

Nothing.

Just smoke.

•

Now he hears you sometimes. When the wind moves right. When the city’s quiet. When the guilt inside him claws too loud to ignore.

Your voice.

“Dick.”

He always turns. Always.

Nothing’s there.

He doesn’t tell anyone that the hallucinations are back. Not even Alfred. Not even Bruce. Because this time, it’s different. This time, it’s you.

Jason’s death gutted him.

But yours?

Yours stole something he never had words for.

You weren’t a symbol. You weren’t the mission. You were his little comfort. His anchor. His reason.

You were the soft thing that came after pain. And now you’re gone.

•

Wayne Manor. His room. 3:17 a.m.

He sits on the floor. Legs crossed. Forehead pressed to the photo frame like a prayer.

You’re laughing in it, out of focus. He took it mid-giggle—caught you by accident, and never deleted it. It’s his favorite.

“I should’ve stayed,” he says.

His voice breaks around the words.

“I should’ve taken you with me.”

He doesn’t say anything else. Just breathes. Hurts. Waits.

And somewhere, in the silence, in the ache of it all–

He believes you would’ve forgiven him.

But he doesn’t forgive himself.

──── ୨୧ ────

Jason’s quiet this year.

He doesn’t make a thing of it—doesn’t storm in, doesn’t throw punches at ghosts. But he shows up more than he used to. And when he’s there, he’s almost always in your room.

He never turns on the light. Just cracks the window open like he’s pretending he still has manners, even though the smoke curls in anyway, soft as snow. It drifts onto everything you left behind–your bookshelf, your game controllers, the hoodie he used to “borrow” and never give back.

The hoodie still smells like you. Or maybe that’s in his head.

He doesn’t sleep here, not really. Just sits.

Sometimes with the lights of Gotham blinking against the windowpane. Sometimes with his head pressed against the edge of your bed like he’s waiting to hear you breathing again.

He acts like he’s over it. Like he’s past the point of breaking. But his jacket always carries this ratty envelope—creases worn white at the edges, the paper inside frayed and curled.

It’s full of your notes.

The kind you used to leave him everywhere, absurd places.

Tucked inside his helmet, slipped into the pockets of his jacket, wedged beneath the clip of a gun or folded into a boot.

Some are nonsense:

“Eat something or I’ll break your kneecaps.”

“Extra pickles in the fridge. You’re welcome.”

“I saw you smile. I’m telling B.”

Some are softer:

“Get some sleep, grumpface.”

One, he reads more than the others. Ink faded. Folded and unfolded so many times it’s practically tissue.

“I’m glad you came back.”

He doesn’t tell anyone about that one. Not even Alfred. Not even Dick. Especially not Bruce.

Because that one—that one undoes him.

•

Cemetery. Late evening.

Your grave is clean. Someone’s been here before him—probably Alfred. Maybe Steph. The flowers are fresh. The stone smooth, your name etched deep and clear like the world needed a reminder of how real this loss is.

Jason stands there, helmet tucked under his arm. The wind brushes past him, low and sharp. A cigarette dangles between his fingers, the tip burning orange in the dim light.

He doesn’t talk, not really.

He never has much to say around here.

But he pulls another cigarette from his pocket—lights it, just like yours—and places it next to the flowers. Lets it burn down in silence.

A strange ritual. But it feels like you’d understand. You always understood the parts of him that didn’t know how to be soft without cracking open entirely.

He stays until the stars come out.

Then, without ceremony, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a bullet. It’s not bloodstained or marked. Just smooth. Polished. The kind meant to promise, not threaten.

He sets it gently at the base of your headstone.

“I came back,” he mutters.

His voice is raw. Low. Not meant for anyone but you.

He waits a beat. Two.

Then quieter–

“Next time, I won’t be late.”

And he means it.

Even if it kills him.

──── ୨୧ ────

A tiny café tucked between 7th and Bristol.

The table is still the same—slightly lopsided, with a chipped ceramic sugar jar and two mismatched mugs.

You used to call it “your spot,” like claiming it made it more real. Like a trio of underage vigilantes sneaking lattes and stolen pastries were just another group of high schoolers with nowhere better to be.

Now there are only two seats filled.

Tim stares down at his coffee like it might spill answers into the foam. His hands are wrapped around the cup even though it’s gone cold.

Stephanie sits across from him, one leg pulled up into the booth, arms tight across her chest like she’s trying to hold herself together with elbows. She hasn’t touched her drink.

The air smells like cinnamon and burnt beans. Someone’s playing a crackly vinyl in the corner—some jazz that doesn’t quite reach their corner of the café.

They haven’t spoken for ten minutes.

They don’t have to. You were always the talker. The mood-setter. The one who made the silences feel intentional, cozy even. You’d come here and poke fun at Tim for his caffeine dependency, steal a sip of Steph’s drink and declare it too sweet, and then pay the tip in exact change just to irritate the barista.

Now the air sits heavy. Like a ghost still ordering a caramel macchiato.

Tim exhales, shaky. “They always reminded me to eat,” he says, voice hoarse, like it had to be dragged up from somewhere deep and raw. “Even when we were mid-mission. They’d shove a protein bar in my hand and say, ‘Eat this or pass out, your choice.’”

Steph snorts through her nose, but her smile doesn’t hold. Her chin quivers, and she looks away.

“They’d be pissed if we cried in public,” she says. Her voice is light, teasing, almost defiant—but her eyes are glossy, throat tight.

Tim looks at her.

She looks back.

And there’s a flicker of the old rhythm. That space where you would’ve made a joke. Broken the tension. Called them “emo” and suggested getting cupcakes.

But you’re not here.

Steph nods slowly, more to herself than anyone else.

“We’ll cry after.”

Tim nods, too. Silent agreement. An old pact, rewritten.

And they do.

Not right there—not loud, not breaking—but when they leave the café and walk around the corner, past the alley where you once spray-painted a smiley face on the brick wall because “it looked like it needed a friend,” Steph presses her forehead to the cold concrete.

Tim stands beside her, eyes closed.

They don’t speak.

Tears slide down without permission. Quiet. Steady.

Because the glue is gone.

And the rift is real.

And neither of them knows how to fix something that’s been buried.

But for a moment—just one—they let themselves fall apart. Together.

────୨ৎ────

Gotham Community Center, Friday afternoon.

The rug beneath Duke’s knees is a chaos of colors—bright reds, sunny yellows, thick stripes of green and blue curling like vines. It’s sticky in places. Crayon wax is crushed into one corner. A juice box leaks quietly behind him, forgotten in the flurry of small limbs and louder voices.

He’s not wearing armor. No cape, no domino mask. Just a hoodie and jeans and a name tag that reads “DUKE 🦇 Volunteer” in glitter pen.

You’d made that. You always used the glitter pen, even when he protested. “Heroes don’t sparkle,” he’d said once.

“Batman doesn’t,” you had grinned, “but you do.”

Now the glitter’s faded, but the ache hasn’t.

Kids crawl over him like he’s playground equipment. One clings to his shoulder, firing off questions in rapid succession.

“Why do you talk slow sometimes?”

“Why’s the sun yellow and not green?”

“Why do bad guys wear capes too? That’s cheating.”

Duke’s lips twitch into a smile. It’s practiced. Not quite fake. Not quite real.

“I talk slow when I’m thinking,” he says, answering the first.

The other questions blur together. His brain drags behind his mouth. It’s always like this lately. Like thinking is something he has to wade through.

You dragged him here his first week in the family. He’d been stiff, unsure, still clinging to the idea of what being a hero should look like. Crime-fighting. Patrol. Glory.

But you–

“Be a hero out of costume too.”

That’s what you’d told him, apron tied backwards, glue in your hair, helping two five-year-olds make pasta necklaces while explaining Newton’s Third Law in baby talk.

He hadn’t realized then how those words would come back like broken ribs every time he breathed.

A little girl with pigtails and a unicorn sticker on her cheek clutches his arm.

“Where’s the one who wore the silly apron?” she asks, her voice small but certain.

His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “They had to go away,” he says.

She frowns. “Why?”

Duke hesitates. The right words don’t come. The truth is too big for this room.

“They were tired,” he finally says. “So they’re resting now.”

The girl nods solemnly and squeezes his arm. “They were funny. They made the macaroni dragon.”

“I know,” he whispers.

When the last parent signs out their kid, when the art bins are put away and the lights dim, Duke slips into the janitor’s closet like muscle memory. Quiet. Familiar.

The air smells like bleach and lemon cleaner. The floor is damp from a mop someone forgot to rinse. He lowers himself onto the cold tile beside the mop bucket, back against the wall, head in his hands.

It starts with a sniff. Then another. Then his whole chest caves inward like a collapsed tunnel.

He tries to stay quiet.

He’s not wearing the mask. But he still doesn’t want anyone to hear a hero cry.

Fists pressed to his eyes, knees tucked to his chest, he sobs into the sleeve of his hoodie. Muffled. Shameful. Like it’s something he’s not allowed to feel.

But the pain doesn’t care about permission.

He presses his forehead to the wall, breathing fast, like maybe he can sob it all out before anyone notices. Like grief is something you can squeeze into a janitor’s closet and leave behind with the mop water.

You would’ve hated this.

You would’ve found him, offered a juice box and a dumb joke, like “The mop’s name is Jeremy. Respect him.”

You would’ve stayed.

But now it’s just him. Glitter fading on a name tag. Salt on his cheeks.

And silence.

────୨ৎ────

Gotham Clocktower. Afternoon light bleeds through the high windows.

The room is too quiet. Not peaceful—hollow.

Cass sits on the floor, spine against the leg of Barbara’s work desk, knees drawn up. Her hands hover in the space between them, fingers twitching with unspoken words. Barbara is beside her, wheelchair angled slightly, as if ready to catch a thought falling apart mid-air.

Cass blinks at her own hands like they belong to someone else.

“I…”

Her fingers move, slow. Unsure.

“I can…”

She hesitates. The sign falters.

“…say…”

She stops. Arms fall into her lap. Her throat tightens. No sound comes. Only the silence pressing against her skull, thick and suffocating.

Barbara leans in, her hand a warm weight over Cass’s.

“It’s okay,” she says, voice soft, breaking like glass at the edges. “Take your time.”

Cass shakes her head, eyes narrowed with frustration. Her breath hitches, chest pulling tight in a way words never learned how to describe.

You used to guide her—tap her wrist gently, shape her fingers, smile with that crooked grin when she got it right. You didn’t speak over her silence. You didn’t rush to finish her sentence. You waited. You listened. Even when she couldn’t listen to herself.

Cass signs again. Slower this time. Deliberate.

“They helped… me say.”

Barbara’s mouth trembles.

“I know.” She reaches over, fingers curling around Cass’s hand. “You’re still doing it. You’re still saying things, Cass.”

But it’s different. The shape of silence is different now. Before, it was full—filled with your laughter, your patience, your voice reading aloud from some book you barely understood just because Cass liked the rhythm. Now it’s just silence. Unanchored.

Cass lowers her gaze. Her hands fall still. “Harder now,” she signs. Her lip quivers. “No… no one hears fast. Like them.”

Barbara nods. “I know. I feel it too.”

They sit like that for a moment, fingers clasped. Still.

Beneath the desk, Barbara’s other hand finds something—a notebook. Your notebook.

Half-filled pages, messy diagrams, unfinished attempts at sign language jokes. One of them is a dumb pun involving the sign for “grape” and “great.” Cass had hated it. You kept doing it.

Barbara opens to the page and shows her.

Cass breathes out a laugh, small but real. “Stupid,” she signs.

Barbara chuckles wetly. “Yeah. God, they were annoying.”

Cass nods. The grin slips, then wavers, then collapses again into grief. Her face folds in on itself, chin tucked to chest. “Miss them,” she signs. “Miss how they looked.”

Barbara touches her chest. “Me too. I still think they’re gonna walk in. Say something ridiculous. Like—‘Hey, what’s up, danger?’”

That one makes Cass huff. “Dumb.”

“You loved it.”

Cass nods.

There are no more jokes. No more signs. Just the weight of everything unsaid.

Barbara shifts, pulling herself closer. She cups Cass’s cheek with one hand. “You don’t need to be perfect. You don’t need to get it all right. I’m here. I’ll wait for your words. However long it takes.”

Cass blinks. One tear slips down. Her fingers rise again. Tentative. Trusting.

“I will keep… saying,” she signs. “Even if they’re gone. For them. With you.”

Barbara squeezes her hand. “Then we’ll learn again. Together.”

Silence settles again, but this time it’s softer. Shared. Not empty. A space you once filled now held between them, remembered.

They’re still trying.

For you.

────୨ৎ────

The cave is colder than usual.

Damian sits cross-legged on the stone floor, bare feet pressed to the earth, spine arrow-straight. He’s been meditating for hours—long past sunrise. Long past when Alfred would’ve called him up for tea or breakfast. But there’s no Alfred here.

Just the ghost of your laughter echoing off the walls, like water dripping in an empty cistern.

Titus rests nearby, his massive head laid solemnly over his paws. Every so often, his ears twitch at some noise—an air vent hum, a bat fluttering in the high dark rafters—but he never strays far.

The dog knows. He always knew when you were near.

Alfred the cat—named with stubborn irony—circles Damian’s still form once, then curls tightly in his lap without asking. Damian doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t open his eyes. Just rests one hand over the cat’s arched back, steady. Controlled.

The only sound in the room is the low, almost bovine breath of Bat-Cow, tucked in her special paddock at the back of the cave. (Yes she still alive)

She’s been oddly quiet today too, as if the animals can feel it.

It’s your death anniversary.

Another year without you.

Another year where the world has kept spinning and Damian has kept sharpening his blades.

But this morning, all he’s done is sit. Until now.

His breath hitches—a crack in the calm.

He opens his eyes slowly. The light from the Batcomputer behind him casts just enough of a glow to catch the shimmer at the corner of his lashes.

He doesn’t wipe it away.

Instead, he looks at the sword across his knees. The hilt is worn with years of use—but at the very base, carved in tight, decisive strokes, is your name.

Etched deep.

Deep enough to splinter the grip if he ever loses control.

Deep enough that it cannot be erased, even if he tried.

He’d used his own dagger to do it. The same one his grandfather once gave him.

Precision work. Clean lines. The kind of carving done not in a fit of grief, but with total, surgical focus.

“You’d have mocked me for how dramatic it looks,” he murmurs, voice low. Almost hoarse. He scratches gently behind Alfred the cat’s ears. “Then insisted it was still sweet. That I was secretly sentimental.”

Titus raises his head, as if hearing your voice too. His tail thumps once, hopeful.

Damian exhales. Then speaks again. This time to you. Wherever you are.

“You were the first one to ever hug me.”

The words leave him like a confession. A whispered sin.

He remembers it like it just happened.

You’d been younger than he is now—maybe fourteen, fifteen. He’d been a child barely taller than your chest. Angry at the world. All jagged reflexes and rigid posturing.

You had launched at him. No warning. Just barreled into his side and wrapped him up like you belonged there.

He’d gone stiff as a board. Every muscle tensed. Ready to lash out and throw you across the room.

You only laughed. Hugged tighter.

“You little assassin nerd,” you’d teased, ruffling his hair, pressing your cheek to his shoulder. “You need, like, ten more of these per day.”

And the next day, you did it again.

And the next.

Eventually… he hugged back.

You were the only one he let drag him to museums. Art galleries. Rooftops for stargazing and hot chocolate. He used to roll his eyes the whole time, but you’d catch the edge of his smile in the glass of a display case or in the shimmer of moonlight on his face.

No one else could ever make him go. But he always went with you.

“I hated most of it,” he lies now, just to hear himself say it. “Except I didn’t. You knew I didn’t.”

He leans forward and presses his forehead to the hilt of the sword. Your name is cold against his skin.

“We share the same blood,” he whispers. “And I still couldn’t protect you.”

The breath leaves his body all at once. Like a blow to the ribs.

His fingers curl tight around the hilt. He doesn’t scream. Doesn’t cry. Doesn’t move.

But when he finally stands—quietly, with Alfred leaping down from his lap—his steps lead him not upstairs.

They lead him to the training floor.

Titus watches from the edge. Knows what’s coming.

Damian doesn’t warm up. Doesn’t speak.

He draws the sword with a sound like lightning splitting through bone.

And then—he moves.

Every strike is a memory. A fracture. A sin. A promise broken.

When he finishes, the training dummy is sliced clean in half. Not jagged. Not splintered.

Clean.

There’s a moment of stillness as the pieces fall to the floor.

Damian’s chest rises and falls. Sweat beads at his temple. His hands tremble now, only now, when the damage is already done.

He doesn’t look at the sword again.

Just drops to his knees beside Titus. Bows his head into the dog’s fur and breathes like it might be enough to pull you back from wherever you are.

“You were my favorite,” he admits into the dark. “I never told you. But you were. Always.”

Titus whines, soft and aching.

The cave is quiet again.

And this time, Damian lets himself grieve—no blades, no masks, no training.

Just your name carved in steel.

And a family of animals who still remember the warmth you left behind.

────୨ৎ────

Wayne Manor. Surveillance Room. 3:17 A.M.

The monitor hums softly in the dark.

Everything else is still. No clocks ticking. No comms buzzing. Just static-light flickering over Bruce’s unshaven face as he sits hunched forward, eyes locked to the footage like it might change if he wills it hard enough.

He presses play again.

There you are.

Walking into the gala.

Nervous.

You tug self-consciously at the collar of your formal suit—the one Alfred insisted looked “dignified” and you called “fashionable punishment.” You shift your weight like you want to bolt. Straighten your shoulders just like Alfred told you to.

A forced smile. Then a real one. You laugh at something someone says just off-frame. You tilt your head toward a voice calling your name, mouth parted in response.

Then:

“I’m not ready.”

And then–

Static.

Bruce freezes the frame. Rewinds. Plays it again.

That moment.

That voice.

The tiny tremble in it.

He watches it over and over. Not the whole clip. Just that fragment. You fidgeting. Speaking. Glancing over your shoulder like something might be following. Like you already knew.

You did.

God. You knew.

You’d begged him.

•

Memory, Two Nights Before.

You stood by the cave exit, arms crossed, voice small beneath all the steel.

“Don’t go out like this. Something feels wrong tonight.”

He didn’t stop.

Didn’t look back.

“We can talk when I’m back.”

“What if I’m not here when you are?”

You had said it lightly. Like a joke.

He hadn’t laughed.

He didn’t say “I love you.”

Didn’t say “thank you” or “I hear you.”

He was already gone.

•

“I thought you were safe,” Bruce murmurs, the words barely audible. As if saying them too loud might make them even less true.

“I thought you were safe… inside these walls. Under my roof. Inside the gates.”

His jaw clenches. His throat works. He doesn’t blink.

“You were supposed to be safe.”

His eyes are bloodshot. The footage crackles. His hand hovers over the keyboard, knuckles taut, veins visible. He’s memorized every angle of your smile, every hitch in your breath in those last moments, every fraction of unease in your body language.

And it wasn’t enough.

None of it was.

•

The silence is unbearable.

He walks through the halls like a ghost, barefoot and aimless. Every footstep is muffled on ancient carpets. Every turn reminds him of you—sitting upside down on the staircase railing, trailing your fingers along the banister, laughing too loud during dinners no one else found funny.

He still hears your voice sometimes. The echo of it. The lingering shape of your presence carved into the silence.

He doesn’t sleep anymore. Not really.

•

He makes his way to your room’s door.

He pauses there.

Doesn’t open it.

Can’t.

Instead, he stands outside it like a soldier posted at a tomb. Like he’s guarding what little remains.

His hand lifts halfway toward the doorknob. Then falls.

“I’m sorry,” he says, so softly it doesn’t echo.

And still the house groans in reply. The silence doesn’t forgive. The halls do not answer.

•

Back in the cave.

He sits again. Hits play.

“I’m not ready.”

He knows now you were right. Not about the gala. Not just about that night.

About everything.

Neither of you were ready—for the way things would break. For the silence afterward. For the finality of a child dying before their father.

And yet here he is.

Alone. With the flickering image of a child who looked back one last time.

And with all the ways he didn’t listen.

────୨ৎ────

Crime Alley. Midnight.

Rain traces down the gutters like veins. The alley is quiet now—emptied of police tape and flashing lights, but the memory of it burns brighter than any crime scene spotlight. Gotham’s heart never stops bleeding, but here—it gushed.

Selina stands at the edge.

Her heels click once against wet stone, then fall silent. She walks further in. No mask. No costume. Just a long black coat, tailored like grief, soaked at the hem.

She stops where the scorch marks begin.

The brick is still charred, dark veins of soot climbing like vines toward the broken fire escape. The bloodstain is barely visible now—diluted, washed down the drain, but she sees it. She knows where it was.

She kneels.

Gloved fingers skim the wall, right where it happened. She doesn’t flinch at the soot that stains the leather. Doesn’t wipe it off. She presses her palm flat to the stone.

Her breath catches.

But she doesn’t cry.

She hasn’t cried since the call. Not even when they showed her the evidence bag with the charm bracelet. Not when she saw the tooth-blackened bone. Not when Alfred held her shoulder so tightly it bruised.

Because if she cries, it means it’s real.

Instead, she breathes you in. Or what’s left.

Ash. Smoke. The faintest memory of your shampoo—lavender and mint—and the strange way it mixed with Gotham filth. She swears she can still smell it in the stone. Still feel the hum of your laughter ricocheting off the alley walls.

You used to chase her through alleys like this. Little boots pounding behind her, giggling as she pretended to vanish over the rooftops.

You’d call:

“I saw your tail, Mama!”

And she’d shout back,

“Then keep up, kitten!”

God. You tried so hard to keep up.

•

She whispers now, voice barely there, like she’s afraid the rain might swallow it:

“I left you once.”

Her fingers tremble. She flattens them harder against the wall, grounding herself, biting down on her lip so hard it breaks skin.

“And I never got to come back.”

That’s the truth. The only one that matters.

She left you. A mother’s greatest crime, wrapped in good intentions and selfish fear.

She thought you’d be safer with Bruce. She thought love meant stepping aside.

But you needed her. And she was gone.

•

The wind picks up. Carries smoke from somewhere deeper in Gotham—a chimney, a car fire, a signal.

But in the twist of air through the alley, for just a breath, it smells like you.

She inhales sharply. Eyes flutter shut.

A hand rises to cover her mouth.

And for one cruel, fleeting second, she imagines you’re there. Hiding behind the dumpster like you used to. Waiting to leap out. Playing some awful joke. Laughing that reckless, raw laugh that sounded too much like hers.

The shadows flicker like cat’s tails. Her kind of magic.

But you’re not there.

Just the stone. The ash. The guilt.

•

She stands slowly, knees stiff, spine aching with years of running from consequences. But she doesn’t wipe the soot off her glove. She lets it stay—like a mark, a bruise, a promise.

She doesn’t say goodbye.

She never has.

Instead, she turns her head to the wind one last time. Listening. Reaching.

Just in case.

In case you’re still near.

In case ghosts really follow bloodlines.

In case your soul is clever enough to linger.

And in the stillness, she whispers:

“I should’ve stayed.”

────୨ৎ────

They only found pieces of you.

Bone fragments. Teeth. A sliver of jaw. Skin fused to fabric in a way that made the coroners turn away and breathe through their sleeves.

Bruce signed the report without flinching. Selina refused to.

Some of it wasn’t even yours.

Gotham chews its children and spits out what’s left.

And you—you were never meant to be in its mouth in the first place. You weren’t a soldier. You weren’t a sidekick. They trained you just enough—to recognize danger, to escape if it came too close. You knew how to vanish down alleys. How to disappear behind curtains. How to run.

Your last call was panicked static. Muffled breath. A sob that stuttered into a gasp. Someone shouted your name—maybe through the phone, maybe in the street. You’ll never know. The line went dead before you could answer.

You remember the way your chest locked. The heat. Not flames yet, but pressure—a vacuum before the collapse. The sound of splintering bone. Concrete. Something wet.

Then stillness.

Your final thought wasn’t of vengeance or glory.

You want none of that.

It was: Did he hate me when I left?

It was: Did she know I loved her, even after everything?

It was: I’m not strong enough.

But you were.

Maybe not in the way Gotham needed.

Maybe you should have run faster.

But enough that, today…

They still speak to you.

In tea cups. In worn hoodies. In cracked knuckles. In candlelight.

You were not a soldier.

You were not a vigilante.

You were the heart.

And no one—not Gotham, not even death—can erase that.

•Note: holycow it’s over 5k words in 72 hours💀💀 I have rewritten over and over but still not satisfied enough with 10+ drafts in my Apple Note LMAO. If you’re wondering why the fic published so fast and long then it’s because Im in summer vacation, I’ve been writing through days till nights so yeah the outcome might come after 1-2 days.

This is the inspiration I talk about here, there’s also some of my concept in comment. This series strictly platonic towards the Batfam but there also some love interests.

Ngl Im gonna take a rest after this for awhile and fulfill promise by working on Descent Into Shadows, hope you enjoy this fic! If you have some questions after this, leave a comment/through inbox to let me know💙

©𐙚 rikudaa—Please do not repost or copy this content to other websites.

[mimiii-3]

How old is the Batsib meant to be? Because I think that the most angst potential idea is that they are YOUNG. Like, around Damian’s age.

Most people, especially the Batfam, are really loving and caring towards children, but Batsib is ignored, belittled and disregarded. Meanwhile, Darling is an adult, someone who should literally be able to handle themselves but is instead coddled.

Most neglected reader fics have the family seeing the reader as younger than they are, but maybe in this au they think that the batsib is like 16-17 when they’re literally like 13.

Good idea!

…

Saboteur: Teenage Dirtbag

Yandere Platonic Batfam x GN Neglected Reader

Notes: a tad bit angsty

…

What if batsib is younger than darling?

🦇- you can’t stand darling

🦇 - the way they parade around the house, basking in your family’s undying love

🦇 - you hate them all

🦇 - your Father’s weak resolve. He doesn’t stop darling’s relentless teasing. No, he sits back and watches to stay in their good graces

🦇 - then there’s Dick

🦇 - he reaches back to his circus roots and puts on a show for them. Always flipping off the walls and cracking jokes

🦇 - the overly wide smile he flashes darling looks stupid

🦇 - Tim just can’t get enough of darling

🦇 - he spends hours gathering more information about them. Memorizing their likes and dislikes so he can learn how to keep them happy

🦇 - the spitfire of the family, Damian, follows darling around the house and gazing at them with admiration

🦇 - even Alfred can’t help but wait on them hand and foot

🦇 - but what do you get?

🦇 - you get nothing. Pure indifference is what you get from your so-called family

🦇 - it’s never felt more apparent till now

…

The buses have stopped running. Of course, why wouldn’t they on the worst day ever. You trudge up the muddy slope that leads to the small wood behind the manor.

It was your first day of high school and it did not go as planned. The teachers and students were a bunch of judgy socialites who couldn’t mind their own business. You asked to go to a public school but your father didn’t listen. Typical.

Your shoe slips against the mud and you fall to your knees. A frustrated whine leaves your mouth as you clamber to your feet.

You had asked Alfred to pick you up around 6. You had an orientation for the after school program that would last at least a couple of hours. Unfortunately, you aren’t old enough to drive yourself so you planned to wait for Alfred.

The tip of a branch catches on the mesh side of your backpack. It tears the fabric easily and your water bottle tumbles down a short part of the slope. After retrieving your water bottle, you tiredly continue the journey.

Alfred never showed. Even after you waited an hour and a half. In hindsight, you should have just left the school. At least you wouldn’t be walking back in the dark. You knew that it was dangerous to take the open sidewalk back home so you decided to take the woodsy way instead.

You mentally punch yourself for taking the back way and take hold of sturdy-looking tree branch. With some effort, you pull yourself up the last part of the slope. Your shoulders sag in relief at the small distance between you and the manor.

Maybe Alfred was preoccupied? Yeah, that’s it. He was busy helping Bruce with a new bad guy in Gotham. Or maybe he had too much to drink and forgot about the plan.

You approach the back door leading to the dance hall. Before you can reach for the door, you notice light pouring out of the living room window.

You stay a couple hundred feet back so that whoever’s inside can’t see you. When you look into the room from afar you see them. The whole family, huddled up in the living room and watching a movie.

It must be scary. With the way that obnoxious abductee clings to them in fear. Dick, Tim, and Damian all lean toward Darling on the couch. Your father, sitting in the armchair, is looking over at them with so much love.

Disgusting. The way they look at darling like they can do no wrong. Then Alfred walks in the room carrying a tray of popcorn. You seethe at the sight of him, warm and dry.

So he forgot to pick you up for this. Is it that he forgot or did he just not care? You trudge back to the door and swing it open. You stomp your muddy shoes up the recently waxed stairs.

When you arrive at your room you slam the door shut and shake off your muddy clothes. After a quick shower, you plop down on the bed and pull out your diary. You begin to describe the horrible day you had and every hateful thought about your family imaginable.

Your pen scratches furiously at the paper. The hot tears cascading down your face wrinkle the expensive, leather-bound journal. You write and write till your hand aches just as much as your heart. You pull back to peer at your handiwork.

For about 8 pages your diary is covered in angry rants and violent doodles of you family. The anger starts to dissipate. Your diary keeps you in check. It allows you to express yourself and rant against your family.

You tuck the notebook under your mattress and climb under the covers. You pull your pig plushie close and breath out a sigh. You have to relax and forget about today. Let go of your family and everything else bothering you. It’s only Monday after all.

…

Extra notes: hey y’all, I’m back🫣

Tag list:

@jjsmeowthie @shawty-a-lil-baddie @butratherbutrather @shirp-collector-of-fixations @stove-top96 @yaoizee @bellethesleepypotato @salfishers @eli-mayhaveatencats @wisefuncherryblossom @c4xcocoa

[sramoonlight]

Bad feeling

What if Conner saw the light on someone?

Content you’ll see here: Conner Kent x Bat!sis, platonic!yandere!batfam, neglected reader

English it’s not my first language, please be patient

One thing you hate about your family is how they keep telling you how much they love you but then they send you to this kind of galas

They don’t want to deal with having a social persona who keeps telling everyone what they want, so they just send the least favorite

The one who they don’t care if it’s not on movie night.

You always thought it was okay, maybe one day you’ll be feeling their gratitude, so you kept telling them when you were leaving

Dressed in fancy clothes, bag in hand as you tried to catch their attention

Never works.

They say a quick bye before going back to the TV, you hate how they just act like nothing happened

Like you weren’t waiting for someone to tell you to not go, for someone to invite you to this movie night, for someone who offer you a seat next to theirs.

It never happens.

You’re their sacrifice, but maybe one day they’ll see how much you do for them

Always talking to people who try to have a place on the Wayne family, they just don’t know how neglected you are.

You sighed before taking a sip of your champagne, you just walked away from a rich couple who tried to have a relation with your family

And you can feel the urge to run, it’s getting late, you usually call Alfred to send a chofer for you (because they complained about Alfred leaving in middle of the movie)

You took your phone and then a voice made you stop your movements

— Is it my eyes or is a cutie here? — you turned, ready to face this bold guy who tried to flirt with you

Surprisingly, your eyes shined at the sight

Black hair and ocean blue eyes, locked on yours

The worst part, that smile like your attention was the best thing he could ever have

A gorgeous look, one that made you melt in an instant.

— Such a boring night, isn’t it? — he offered a hand, without hesitation you gave him yours

He kissed your knuckles, he never stopped looking at your eyes.

It made your heart beat like a lion was chasing you, you tried to ignore it with a smile but the color on your cheeks was enough to make him smile even more.

— but I must say, it got better when I saw you, Miss..? — He asked for your name with that charisma that kept on your knees

Wait, he doesn’t know your name? He doesn’t know your name!

You wiped out the blush on your cheeks clearing you throat

— (Reader) Wayne, but please just call me (reader), may I know your name? — You smiled at him, he trapped that smile and you noticed how he kept holding your hand

He doesn’t want to let your touch go..

— Conner Kent, what about if we leave this place? — you don’t know why, but you found yourself following him like your life depended on it

He’s the first man who ever looked at you for what you were and not what you could do.

By the time you were back at the manor it was passed midnight, you can hear how a few voices are on the living room and a couple of games sound

They grow old of the movie, in other circumstance you would ran to tell your father how bad the gala it was only to hear a quick “oh, must’ve been horrible, go to sleep” but now you can’t hide the smile on your face.

Floating steps as you walk to the room, Alfred was picking up the plates of popcorn before facing you

— Ah, master (Reader) I thought the gala ended at eleven o’clock — he acted like it was nothing to not noticed if you arrived or not

But now you don’t care

— Yeah, it did — you chuckled, a laugh filled with joy as you kissed his cheeks running upstairs.

— That’s new — Tim said, before going back to the game.

Everything felt like cake and stars since then, texting Conner at all times and smiling at you phone was a routine everyone looked weird

You never smiled that much, you always had a dark aura around you, it will usually grow when everyone finished their meal and you were left there eating by your own.

Now, you eat quicker than ever leaving the room in a rush while you smiled at the phone

It was weird, and still they let it pass.

Then you started dressing up, wearing perfume and you got yourself some makeup

And the worst was, you asked Bruce for some money

You were used to always shut you mouth when you needed money, because you didn’t want to be seen as a spoiled brat

But now you asked him for money, not only that, money for going out

Bruce is scared, he doesn’t know why you don’t see him with that glowing eyes anymore, he remembers how you used to look so excited when he asked you how you were

And now, it looks like he is someone else to your eyes.

You get downstairs, a scent of Chanel filled everyone’s nose

Stunning as ever but still casual, Dick had to control the ached on his heart when he noticed you were wearing makeup

— Dinner is almost ready, master (Reader), are you joining us? — Alfred said with a plate on his hand, small cookies everyone eat before dinner on it.

You fixed your hair looking at a mirror on the hallway

— Oh, I’m sorry Alfred, but I’m leaving now for my date —

And the silence was set on the room, even Damian stopped playing with Titus.

Dick was the first one to talk

— Do you… have a date? How wonderful! — that last part sounds too forced, and it was, he can’t hide the bad feeling on his chest.

You faced Alfred hugging him as a goodbye, he’s the only who doesn’t look surprised, of course you’ve told him about this days ago

— May we know who it is? — Bruce tried to wipe away the sudden jealous feeling in his chest, he stood walking to you.

You looked at him, those eyes that doesn’t shine with excitement for some attention

— You may know him, it’s Lex Luthor’s son — you smiled at the mention of him, even if it was just a mention of his father

— Conner?! — the most surprised was Tim, he tripped out of the couch before running to you

His arms trapped your shoulders as he shake you, he knew Conner was seeing someone, but his sister?

— He isn’t someone you want as your boyfriend! He would cheat on you the first week! — he doesn’t hate his best friend, but God he knows he is such a womanizer

Well, every men are womanizers if they are dating you.

Your eyes trapped how Jason left the room, good to know at least one isn’t crazy like them.

— Good, so we passed the curfew two months ago —

Two months ago?! You have a boyfriend and none of them knew? The one who is most hurt is Dick, his little sister didn’t tell him! He can understand if you didn’t tell the others, but HIM? He could’ve stop you from doing this big mistake

— Little bird, you’re too young to be dating someone — he tried with all his heart to make you realize it was bad

Not only you were dating a man, but Conner Kent! He can’t date you! You’re so small and so innocent, he can’t let him stain your pure beauty, you’re just fifteen!

— I’m eighteen, Dick — ouch, it hurt to notice how he doesn’t know a thing about you being older than that

And you’re not surprised, with a sighed you turned to see Alfred

— I’ll be back before midnight — you smiled at him ready to go, and you could see how his eyes opened wide

bang!

You felt onto the floor in a loud noise, Damian was carrying a pan on his hands, the weapon he used to knock you out

Jason behind him, leaning on the door frame

— What? You were taking too long, we couldn’t let her go out with that Kent trash — and no one complained about that

Dick picked you up, now he could see how beautiful you were looking, all of this for a boy? God no, he won’t let anyone have his gorgeous sister.

— Tim, go for the Kryptonite on the Batcave — Bruce said as he followed Dick upstairs like a worried dad, what about if you fall? His baby can’t fall, you need to be okay.

Somewhere, a place where Conner was leaning on a wall, his eyes closed

He is used to hear you before going out, it was a way for him to know when you were ready so he could just appear on your door

And he opens his eyes, a little smile on his face

— So we are fighting for her, huh? —

And he was ready for it, because the day he met her, it was the day he knew he could have a soulmate

They are not taking you from him, he worked so hard for it.

[starvoiddream]

Bruce, delirious on pain meds: I hate to tell you this, but one of you was adopted.

Dick:

Jason:

Cass:

Tim:

Duke:

Damian:

Bat!sib: I bet it was Damian.

[brokenpinballmachine]

✶ moon rising at 12 o'clock

yan batfam x gn neglected reader

masterlist ch0 ch2 (coming....)

a/n: heehee

TW: GN reader, mention of death/death itself, blood, implications of criminals planning on doing something, monsters, insanity (Alternate versions of you are insane), probably ooc, slight crack, english not my first lang.

word count: 1,952 words (short chapter rip)

summary: Magical/name focused chapter + very chaotic. Beginning is set before the alternate versions came into y/ns dimension.

chapter 1: How I Became A Magical Hero After Finding a Magical Ring and Befriending a Magical Pet After I Was Neglected By My Superhero Family

────── ₊˚⊹ ᰔ ──────

The moon looked pretty.

Or, well, to M/n, the moon always looked pretty.

How many stories, how many lives, has it watched from up there? Each star seemed to twinkle differently every night. Some would shine brighter than others, but that was just how life worked, right? Just as some people shine brighter than others.

And to M/n, they seemed to shine the brightest.

"UWAA!! M/n, you can't just run off like that!!" Kiyoko, the magical talking fox, had large comical tears streaming from his beady eyes.

The magical person wasn't hard to spot. With their pure white costume luminescent under the glowing moonlight, they stood out like a sore thumb wherever they went, especially under the dim, decaying alleyways of Gotham at midnight.

"Kiyoko, I can take care of myself!"

"B-but, b-but! Gotham is so scary and so, so dangerous! What if you got hurt, or worse?"

M/n tilted their head to the side, placing a finger on their chin and thinking for a moment.

What would they do if they got hurt? They didn't exactly have a team. Not to mention, the Bats always seemed to be hot on their tail wherever they appeared, especially since they were now labeled a 'metahuman' due to the abilities gained from the ring.

How ironic was it that the world's greatest detectives couldn't even find someone right under their noses?

Alfred, of course, was the only one who showed any semblance of care for them, so he was the only one who knew of M/n's escapades.

He agreed to keep it a secret, but if it ever resulted in M/n's near-death or a fatal injury, he would be compelled to inform the Bats about their little cosplay heroism. Lets hope that never happens.

Suddenly, a loud scream was heard nearby, making both M/n and Kiyoko swivel their heads in the direction of the noise that echoed off the walls of the area they were in and ricocheted into their ears. "It seems we're not finished with our jobs yet, Kiyo!"

With a charge, the two of them ran towards the sound, running on top of the roofs before jumping off one and landing gracefully near two criminals and a woman. Oh dear.

"Hands off her, monsters!" M/n yelled, pointing the staff in their hands at them. It wasn't the most intimidating look, no, but still put their point across.

The woman next to them cried out louder as the two criminals looked at each other before pushing her to the ground, ripping off the expensive purse from her arm, and towering over her. "Fuck, dude, who the hell is this kid?"

"Just kill them, then we go for the girl." The other offender rolled his eyes before jumping in front of M/n.

These scum... How could they possibly think of doing such things to other humans? It didn't make sense! These actions could only be explained by the fact that they were actually monsters! Thats right, monsters! The two figures began to shapeshift into grotesque, fleshy creatures that would win an audition to be nightmare fuel for little children.

A small gasp escapes from the magical person before they turn to Kiyoko. "I knew it! Both of them are monsters!" they exclaim, pointing their staff at the two. One of the monster's eyes darts toward M/n as he rushes in from the side with a knife.

"Are you ready, M/n?" Kiyoko yells from above.

"Of course! Kiyo, lend me your strength; help me defeat these villains!"

A symbol glows beneath M/n, making the monsters halt, watching in confusion at the light. Incoherent gurgles and blabbering come from the creatures as they turn toward each other, uncertainty etched on their faces. They should probably take a few steps back if they don't want to turn blind.

With a swift flick of the wrist, M/n stabs the staff into one of the monster's chests. It enters easily through the layers of flesh that seem to melt around the area of the magical wand. The monster appears to open its mouth to scream, but no sound comes as it explodes the moment M/n pulls the staff out of its chest, glittery effulgent rainbow liquid spilling everywhere. One monster down; this was like a piece of cake!

A piece of magical cake!

The other flesh-like beast can only watch in wide-eyed horror as it steps back. Then it takes a few more. And before M/n knew it, it was running away. What a coward. Wanting to commit crime yet can't face the consequences. Before it could run far off, M/n leaps into the air and stabs its chest, the monster exploding shortly afterwards.

Both creatures convulse on the ground and two little chibi angels start floating out of them, rising into the air.

"Goodnight, little angels!" M/n cheers, turning their attention toward the trembling woman who seems to be holding her breath. It is a pity, really. So many monsters roam the world; M/n has to stop all of these transformations himself! Not even the bat and his family could grasp the duty laid upon M/n's shoulders.

A small chirp from your fox mascot pops your thought bubble. "M/n! M/n! It's Batman! And, uh, night thing, red thing, other red thing, and smaller thing…" Oh dear. How did they even find where they were? M/n had sworn they had kept their tracks hidden—maybe except for the glittery rainbow liquid covering the alleyways.

Tim looks around. It seems as if someone pulled a scene from an extremely gory video game, the kind Bruce would probably scold him for playing. If only it truly were a video game.

Bruce holds his calculated, analytical gaze, turning cold as it locks eyes with M/n. What the hell happened here? The bodies of the two criminals are not precisely a welcoming sight either. Damian can only scoff at the image.

"Kiyo!!" M/n blurts out, putting a hand over their mouth as their eyes widen. "You should've warned me earlier!!"

Kiyoko glides down toward the white-clothed figure, perching atop their head before jumping down and hiding behind the magical person. "I tried to warn you, but you were too distracted by the criminals!"

"Is that a fucking fox??" Jason asks in disbelief before turning to the rest of his family. "This is what we're worried about?"

Suddenly, the scenery shifts, the walls turning a lighter shade, and the rainbow liquid vanishes. One blink, and it seems M/n finds themselves in a new location.

────── ₊˚⊹ ᰔ ──────

"Stop!!" You managed to weasel your way into the middle of them and separate them both before things got too out of hand.

"Y.. Y..n.. /n"

"It's Y/N." You cringed at how Bruce forgot your name but pushed the thought to the back of your mind.

"Y/n, do you know these people?" Bruce finished his sentence, while the rest of the family waited for you to respond.

You turned toward the alternate versions of yourself, Vg/n eyeing you as if urging you to make the situation better. "Well, uh. They're... they're..." Shit, think of an excuse, quick! "They're... um... superhero friends visiting me! Yeah!"

Vg/n facepalmed, and V/n giggled. Well, okay, sorry, that was the best excuse you could muster right now. You don't work well under pressure! They should know that better than anyone else since they were technically still you!

Jason raised a brow at your statements.

"If they are your friends, why don't we know them?" Bruce asked.

Damian interrupted Bruce, opening his mouth to voice his own opinions. "You honestly don't believe Y/n, do you, Father? That was such an obvious lie; I could have figured that out in my sleep."

Bruce rubbed his temples, trying to make sense of everything.

"Well, what do you know about Y/n?" M/n asked, placing the staff in their hand behind them and a finger on their chin.

Then silence fell.

The family pondered. What did they know about Y/n? Their likes? Dislikes? What they did yesterday?—What have they done at all? It was a question that seemed to stop the whole family in their tracks.

"Well, I mean, I know their name is Y/n." Dick says, being the first to respond, which only earned him a small "Shut up" from Tim before awkward silence pursued once more.

Another person speaks up, this time it was you. "And if you're worried about them knowing, they already know. And, uh—it's not because I told them or anything; they're just super smart, and, um, they figured it out on their own! Yeah."

Vg/n sighed, facepalming once more for what felt like the umpteenth time. "You saying that just makes it sound like you did tell us."

"Oh, what's this? It's hangout time-o'clock!" you suddenly yelled, pushing the three versions of you outside of the manor and waving goodbye to the Bat-family. "I'll be back in an hour, uh, bye!!"

The rest only watched before chaos ensued.

"Really, Grayson, was that the best you could come up with?"

"Jeez, I don't see you saying anything better!"

"How the hell did they enter the manor?? The cameras didn't pick up any movement at the front door?"

"Well then, they obviously snuck in,"

Bruce silences his children before turning to Alfred. "Did you know about any of this?"

"I can say, Master Bruce, that I did not, in fact, know of this sort. But I can say with full confidence that I don't think you would have known either, sir."

────── ₊˚⊹ ᰔ ──────

"So how the hell are we going to get you guys out of here?" You place a hand on your hip.

"Jeez, we just arrived, and you want to get rid of us now? I'm hurt," V/n teases, earning a glare from you.

You were going to go insane; they needed to get out NOW. Who knows what else could happen? If they died here, then a whole universe would fall apart or something, right? Regardless, what would the rest of the family say after they found out about them? God, you were getting a headache.

M/n fiddles with the ring in their hand, pressing it a few times. "Waah!! Maybe I could call Kiyo; they could summon us a magical portal…"

V/n deadpans at the magic user before opening their mouth to speak.

"Okay, first of all, who the hell is 'Kiyo,' and second of all, do you really think that you could contact whoever the hell this is in an alternate universe?"

A disappointed sigh escapes M/n as they put a hand on the back of their neck, their eyes scanning everywhere as if trying to find some escape. Of course, there wasn't any, so their gaze eventually landed on yours.

It was a look that searched for some kind of answer in your eyes, an answer you couldn't give them. You weren't nearly as awesome as them, nor could you barely pack a punch. What were you supposed to do?

You were just a lost 18-year-old.

"Hey, don't be so harsh on M/n. We could at least try before we cross it off our list of options," Vg/n says as the three of you stop at a local Batburger.

With a wave of their thumb, a sparkle emits from the ring in M/n's hand as they spin around, their magical clothes disappearing with a flick of their hand, and a uniform replacing them instead. Once finished, they strike a pose, a blast of glitter escaping from behind them, which makes the you and your other two alternate selves eye each other before a fit of giggles escape your lips.

Yet despite the lightheartedness of the moment, the three variants could always feel eyes watching the back of their heads like a hawk.

────── ₊˚⊹ ᰔ ──────

GUYS LOWK I KNOW THIS WAS LIKE FILLER and im so SORRY gaaaaah!!!!! next chapter. next chapter guys. dont worry. NEXT CHAPTER. taglist: @cosmosluckycharms @the-dumber-scaramouche @lilithskywalker @senhoritaapple @aetheriis @euphoria-looney @depressed--therapist @chericia @mybones537 !!

[invincibledc]

Twin!reader who’s easily sick. They can’t be a hero, they can’t fight, they can’t go out on patrols. They have to live that normal life while their whole family and twin fight bad guys. Damian always comes back home, getting dressed to relax. To take care of his beloved twin. He sits on the edge of their bed, making them take medicine, vitamins. You name it. The twin could only frown in sadness, telling Damian that they “don’t need care.” Damian felt a little anger, but was calm on the outside.

It was always his duty to protect his twin. He’s not letting you perish by your weak immune system. You will be healthy, even if it kills him to realize that you are actually dying inside.

His twin…

[cosmosluckycharms]

Bug Like Angel

The adults are talking

Damian couldn't understand why Bruce and Dick were so obsessed all of a sudden.

They were obsessed.

with you.

If it wasn't for your little tantrum making you storm out of the house, no one would've noticed you leaving.

And he knew Jason and Tim thought the same.

The day you were forced here Dick had insisted that they'd talk to you.

The first day you came, Dick interrupted him taking care of Batcow to tell him to invite you to hang out.

During movie night, it was obvious your mind was somewhere else.

He just didn't understand why they had to interact with you, you were okay with just living with Miguel, why were you forced to be with them?

He decided to investigate further.

He made his way to the kitchen, passing by the hallway.

He noticed the newly placed pictures of you.

They were very clearly from your and your friend's social media, he recognized them from when he stalked stumbled upon you and your friend's socials.

In one photo in which Miguel was next to you, he was edited out, leaving an awkward space next to you.

As he got closer to the kitchen, he could hear you and Dick arguing.

He looked over the corner of the doorway in order to not get caught by either of you.

Your spidey senses went slightly off at that, but you ignored it, assuming it was coming from Dick.

Dick held the guitar, which was coated in stickers "Who's is this?"

You glared at him and put your hands on your hips "It's my friend's."

Dick raised an eyebrow at that "why did he even come here yesterday?"

"nunya." you tried reaching for the guitar, only for him to put it in the air, making it impossible for you to grab it

"c'mon birdie, I know you can do better than that!" Dick teased, swaying the guitar back and forth

"Don't call me that." you jumped to try and reach it and accidentally hit the counter, which made a stack of books hit the vase, domino-style.

Which in turn made a vase start to fall.

Stupid spidey-luck.

Before Damian could process it, the vase hit him on the head and shattered.

"watch it!" Damian exclaimed.

You and dick turned your heads to look at him.

You watched as Dick opened his mouth to speak, and quickly took your chance.

You kicked the back of his knees, which made him fall, and grabbed the guitar swiftly.

"bitch." you walked away, holding the guitar triumphantly

Dick sat down in shock for a moment before checking up on Damian.

"Are you alright?" Dick helped Damian up from the floor.

Damian dusted himself off "I'm fine."

Dick kept talking to him, but his voice faded out as Damian got an idea.

if he couldn't tell why Dick and Bruce were obsessed with you, he'll go straight to the source.

Damian burst into your room.

You were blasting music while journaling.

It was then he took a look at your clothes.

You were wearing an outfit he distinctly remembers you not owning.

You were wearing a red sweater, one that showed up in one of your friend's social media posts.

After a minute or two of awkward silence, you finally spoke up. "do you need anything?"

"you hurt me. Apologize." he crossed his arms in a sort of way that reminded you of Bruce

"alright. I'm sorry. Happy?" you stared at him blankly

"I'll forgive you if we socialize together." he had a poker face on, but you could tell he was slightly nervous.

You closed your journal "All alright, I'll hang out with you."

Damian looked confused like he didn't expect you to agree so fast

"I'm bored anyways, might as well. Where do you wanna go?" you got up from your bed and leaned against the wall, staring at Damian.

"Well, if you insist on this, we could go out to shop," Damian smirked

You stretched and started making your way towards your closet "All alright, just give me like 30 minutes to get ready.

"He made his way out your door.

You took a good 10 minutes choosing an outfit before deciding on one you wore once when you went to Peni's birthday, along with a friendship bracelet she made you.

You got started on your hair and makeup, not caring about the time you were taking.

You knew Damian was very punctual about time, but you didn't care.

As you were mid-way through, the door banged open and Damian barged in.

"hurry up." he glared at you

"hold on, I'm almost done." you lied

He grew impatient and started looking around your room. You couldn't fully blame him; it's a household full of detectives, obviously, they were all nosey.

He looked at one of your walls, which had a lot of pictures of you and your friends.

In one of them, you were carrying a sleeping girl. She looked around his age and was wearing a sweater of yours. Her black short hair was braided, like how yours was in the picture.

In another frame, you and all your friends were at a birthday party. He assumed it was yours, the way you had a party hat on and everyone was around you.

In some pictures you weren't even in them.

There was a couple where they were centered around a blonde-haired girl and a boy with the biggest doe eyes.

In one picture, you were all playing in a band someplace where Bruce would never let you step foot in.

"Those are my friends," you spoke, still doing your hair "I feel like you'd get along with them."

"TT as if." he scoffed, moving onto a jewelry box on the side of your vanity.

He opened it and saw a lot of themed jewelry, mostly based on spider people.

Some weren't themed, like a pair of earrings he was now holding in his hands.

You spoke up, still sitting at the vanity "Oh Can you pass me those? I feel like it's gonna complete my outfit."

He walked up to you and handed you the earrings and watched as you put them on.

Something in the corner of his eye caught his attention.

A bunch of crochet plushes on your bed.

They were themed, yet again.

You saw him staring at them"They were based on some people I know. If you want I can ask Gwen to make you one?"

Damian looked at you, slightly confused "Why would I need a plush? That is highly immature. especially since-"

You cut him off. "if this is about them being spider people I could ask her to make a robin plush."

Damian nodded at you, in a way that was so serious it made you chuckle.

Damian was growing impatient. You were taking a long time to get ready.

He walked up to you "Are you done?" he was cartoonishly thumping the floor with his foot like a certain cartoon rabbit.

"Almost, I swear!" you grabbed the perfume on your vanity and sprayed yourself.

Damian was standing next to where you were sitting, and you took that as a sign to put some of your perfume on him.

As soon as you did, he started having a coughing fit.

"what was that?!" he kept coughing and trying to wave the smell away.

You tilted your head in confusion "I thought you wanted some?"

"why would I want some of your perfume?!" his coughing fit slowed down, he was obviously dramatizing it

"oh c'mon, it wasn't that serious!" you got up and grabbed your keys.

You started making your way out your door before remembering you didn't have your purse, which had your phone and wallet.

"Dami," you said in a sing-songy voice "could you grab my purse? It's on my nightstand."

He made sure you didn't see his smile at the nickname as he made his way to your nightstand and took note of the picture frame next to your bed.

It was of all your friends + you huddled up together. You all had a birthday hat on and you had a sash that said "birthday girl".

He knew it was probably from the same birthday he saw in another picture frame earlier.

He grabbed your bag and handed it to you, relieved he was finally gonna make his way to the mall with you.

You guys made your way to the parking garage with all the cars anyone could ask for.

You picked a car, one of which you bought yourself and picked out with Miguel.

It was your favorite color.

"All alright Damian, I'll grab the car seat for you." you joked and tried to look as serious as possible

"wait what?" he watched as you went into the trunk and grabbed a princess car seat fit for a toddler.

You bought it a while ago for car rides with Mayday.

"Alright, get on." you pat the car seat, indicating for Damian to get on.

Damian pouted "I'm much too old for that"

"Are you sure? The car seat says it works until the kid is 8, you're 7 so it's fine." you tried to hide your smirk

Damian glared at you, obviously annoyed. "I am not 7! I'm 14!"

"right....." it was getting harder for you to not laugh

"I'm serious!" his voice cracked midway through the sentence, making you burst out laughing.

His face turned a little red "It's not funny!"

"You're right, I'm sorry." you were trying to calm yourself down, only to laugh out loud really loud again.

Damian tried to suppress his laughter as well, only to let out a chuckle.

"get in loser, we're going shopping." you sat down in the driver's seat and he sat down in the passenger seat.

It was silent for a moment...until you looked at Damian and started laughing for no reason.

Damian looked around confused "What's so funny?"

You tried to calm yourself down and failed "I don't know!"

You only stopped when Alfred heard what sounded to him like a hyena laughing, and went to check out the garage.

As soon as he heard the laughter coming from the car, he made his way to your windows.

As soon as you noticed him, you stopped laughing.

"master damian and mistress Y/N, where are you going?"

You glared at him, annoyed. "out to do errands."

"May I tag along? I too have errands to run. I have to-" You cut him off by pulling up the window and turning on your music.

You could see Alfred trying to talk to you, but you just put on your sunglasses and drove out.

Damian was shocked, he couldn't believe you would do that.

You blasted your music and sang and danced along, to him it felt like a scene straight out of a girly 2000s movie.

He noticed how your keys had an Araña-themed keychain.

The fuzzy dice on the driver's mirror.

The bedazzled steering wheel.

There was some trash on the floor of the passenger seat.

He could see that in the backseats there was a coloring book and random stray crayons.

The car door next to him had a bunch of stickers everywhere.

In the back seat, there was half a broken drumstick.

There was a broken guitar string somehow tied up in a bow and left on the other seat.

There were random traces of paint everywhere.

"why is it so dirty in here?" he looked at you, slightly concerned about how you were driving so well despite putting on lipgloss at the same time.

"I wouldn't call it dirty, it's just chaos. Controlled chaos." you put away your lipgloss and kept driving "Put in a new CD, I'm bored of this album."

He reached into the glove compartment and immediately noticed a ton of snacks falling out of the compartment.

"oh yeah, just ignore that. I keep those just in case," you said

"In case of what?" Damian asked, still somewhat shocked at the amount of snacks and drinks that somehow fit in there

"in case anyone wants some. If you want you can have some. There are some vegan options in there, I think." you pulled out a mascara tube and started doing your lashes.

Damian then pulled out a bag of veggie chips and started eating them.

"well? are you going to get the CD or not?" you questioned, nudging him playfully.

"I can't see them." he pointed out

You waved your hand at him "You have to dig in deep, you'll find it somewhere."

He hesitated before digging and trying to look for it.

Inside he found:

A portable DVD player, a bunch of DVDs, at least 16 business cards from random small businesses, 7 types of nail polish, 2 iPods, an iPad, 4 random band shirts, a deflated soccer ball, an empty wallet, 6 different chargers (4 of which were broken beyond repair), 5 lipglosses, 2 friendship bracelets, and finally some CDs.

"how does all of this fit in this tiny compartment?" he looked at you, concerned yet again.

"hammerspace." you said, casually

Damian looked at you blankly "What?"

"don't even worry about it." you went back to driving.

He pulled out a random one and handed it to you.

"oh, awesome! I love this album!" you placed it in the CD player.

"Why do you even use CDs? I'm sure Father could get you a new car with a working music player." Damian said, putting everything back in the glove compartment.

"I like it better like this. This car has memories and I've owned some of those cd's since I was in elementary. I just think they're neat!" you took a sip of a random drink you found in your car.

Damian raised an eyebrow at that. He didn't remember you bringing that into the car.

"I found this random water bottle here. It's either me or Margos, and it's probably 4 weeks old," you said, as if you read his mind.

you took another sip. "on second thought, this is probably Gwens."

Everything was a mess.

Yet he felt so at home.

When you guys finally got to the mall, you got to work on your errands.

You grabbed your crumpled-up paper shopping list "Alright, first we need to go to a craft store."

"Why do we need to go to a craft store?" he asked, still eating the veggie chips from earlier

"Because," you grabbed a shopping cart "I need to grab a couple of things."

As you guys made it to the crafts store, you got an idea.

"Damian," you pointed to the cart "get in the cart."

"What?" he raised an eyebrow

"get in." you smiled

"Are you serious? I can't do that!" he argued

You put your hands on your hips "I don't care. Get in the cart."

"I will not! This is foolish behavior!" he stomped

You ignored him and picked him up like a cat and placed him in the cart.

You ignored his protests and kept shopping.

After a minute or two he calmed down.

You went to the art aisle and didn't know what supplies to get Miles.

"it was a good thing I brought you, I know basically nothing about what types of markers there are." You handed Damian two options.

"well don't know, I don't use those types of materials." he handed them back

"shit. Well, I'll just get all of them." you put one of each type of marker and strolled away, cart in hand.

You made your way to the sticker aisle and immediately put a ton of stickers in the cart as well.

"Why do you need so many?" Damian asked, picking up one of the sticker packs which was Vocaloid-themed.

"Because you can never have too many stickers!" you put more in the cart and strolled away again.

By the time you got to the checkout aisle, all the things you bought made you look like one of the people from the math problems.

The cashier looked at you a bit crazy but stopped when he saw you pull out a black card.

As soon as you both made your way out the door, you dragged Damian towards a music store.

You picked out some more CDs for you and some albums for your friends.

a Babymetal album for Peni, a Frank Ocean one for Miles, the Ramones one for Hobie, Daisy and the Scouts for Gwen, and a Sza album for Margo.

You dragged Damian to other stores, most of which he hated.

To cheer him up, you decided to take him to a store you knew most 14-year-old boys liked.

A comic book store.

"Damian look at these!" you handed him an invincible comic

"TT. they're just books." he put it back in its place.

You scoffed and kept looking at the comics

"Oh my gosh! They have a limited edition Gwenpool comic! I've been looking for this everywhere!" you held it up in the air dramatically

You could tell he was pretending to be unamused. He kept looking around.You placed your Gwenpool comic in the cart

"Is this an X-Men comic? I've seen Miles read them, he says they're good."

You saw Damian perk up immediately and grab it out of your hands.

Usually, you'd be upset at his bad manners, but he looked at the comic with such childlike wonder he looked 7 years old again.

Sure, back when both of you were younger he'd threaten you and go out of his way to ignore you, but who didn't?You felt a weird sort of nostalgia.

You shook that thought away and kept looking at the comics.

By the time you guys left the bookstore, you guys had a lifetime supply of manga and comics.

"Okay, we should head back to the manor."

"it's still early? It's not even lunchtime?"

"you need your naptime, you keep yawning"

"I am not," he said, suppressing a yawn

You held his hand while making your way to the car, a force of habit from holding Peni's.

He stared at your hands" Why are you holding my hand?"

You chuckled, letting go "Sorry, force of habit."

He ignored how he missed that small sign of affection.

You both put your things in the trunk. You guys ran out of space and had to put some things in the backseat.

You guys sat down and you played your music.

After a couple of moments, Damian fell asleep.

When you guys finally got to the manor, Damian was half asleep, pretending to be fully asleep.

You smiled and started grabbing all the bags.

You picked him up and carried him out of the passenger seat princess-style and made your way to his room, ignoring Alfred trying to ask about your day.

You ran into Alfred the cat, remembering how you completely forgot he existed.

The last time you saw him, you were around 14 and Damian taught him to avoid you.

Despite how many times you'd try to pet the cat, it'd run away.

You continued to place Damian in his bed and tuck him in.

You kissed him on the forehead, accidentally leaving a lipgloss stain.

You started placing down the bags full of the things he bought, not realizing you accidentally left one of your bags in his room.

You walked out of his room, not noticing his small smile.

Now he understood why dick and Bruce liked you.

You were in your room putting your things away.

You were also putting the things you bought for your friends into gift bags.

It took a while for you to notice you were missing your Gwenpool comics and the manga you bought for Peni.

By the time you noticed, Damian barged into your room yet again.

"you forgot something." he handed you the bag, it had the things you were looking for.

"oh thank you!" you skimmed through the comic, taking in the new book smell.

He hopped onto your bed and looked at one of the plushes on your bed.

It was different from the other ones, which were all different variations of spider people, this one was a red robot.

It sort of reminded him of the robots from Evangelion.

He rolled around in your bed for a bit before sitting up.

He was bored.

You spoke up, finishing up folding your laundry "We should do something."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Oh my gosh! We should go picnicking!"

"what."

"we can cook and bake! I'm kinda hungry anyways."

"..fine."

You guys made your way to the kitchen, you grabbed your cookbook.

It was badly covered in glitter and decorated like a burn book.

As soon as you placed it down on the counter, Damian looked at you confused.

"what is it?" you asked, opening the book.

"why is it covered in glitter?"

"can a girl not be filled with joy and whimsy?"

"fair enough."

"I have an idea! We both make dishes and share them at the park."

"okay?"

Damian then started making his meal, and you made one of your own.

After an hour or two, you both had everything prepared.

You made a few drinks and meals for you and Damian. You also packed some chips just incase he didn't want the food you made.

You both got in your car and left for the park

You lay on the blanket, admiring the bright blue sky.

You pointed to a random cloud "that cloud kind of looks like a butt."

"You're childish." he laid down next to you.

"what do you think it looks like then?" you asked

"...I think it looks like a cat." he pointed out

You laughed "There's no way you see that."

A moment of silence passed through and Damian thought back to the moment with you and Alfred.

Lately, you have been acting strangely rude to him.

"Why don't you like Pennyworth?"

"what do you mean?" you asked, sitting up

"what has he done for you to treat him like that?" he sat up as well

You wanted to tell him.

You wanted to tell him about all those nights you spent sobbing to him asking why no one loved you.

You wanted to tell him about how he'd always defend the people that hurt you.

You wanted to tell him about how you could tell that he only pitied you, and didn't care.

You wanted to tell him about how you knew since the beginning he never cared about you.

You wanted to tell him about Julia, Alfred's daughter, and how he abandoned her.

You decided to stay quiet about those things.

You guys had just now started to get along, it'd be strange of you to randomly dump all your problems onto him.

"I just have a bad feeling about him," you replied

"That's all? No support to that claim or anything?"

"I mean, I am a spider-person, most of us have great intuition."

"you do?"

"yeah!"

It went silent and you decided to change the topic. You didn't wanna keep talking about Alfred

"Well, we should start eating now, right?" you asked, pulling out some Dal you had prepared earlier.

Damian pulled out some dolma he had also made.

You took a bite out of the food you prepared "This Dal is so bomb. Look, try it!"

"no. I have no idea what you could done to that food," he said, backing away from the food as if it was going to bite him

"oh, c'mon! its not that bad. look, I'll eat some so you know it's good." you took another bite of it, basically melting at the taste.

"here comes the choo choo train. Choo choo" You brought a piece to his mouth

"stop this madness at once!" he snatched the piece out of your hand and looked at it.

He hesitated before taking a bite.

"TT. This is acceptable, I suppose."

You smiled and picked him up, "he's alive! he's alive! The food didn't kill him!" Everyone around you started staring at you.

Damian tried to shut up your yelling by putting a hand over your mouth and failed.

You let him down and started laughing.

"You're embarrassing me!" he said, trying to cover up his reddened face.

After a moment of comfortable silence, he spoke up "I'm shocked you can cook."

You gasped dramatically and flopped onto the ground, holding your heart as if you were dying "You're so mean."

Damian took another bite of his dolma "Where did you learn to cook that?"

"Pav and his auntie showed me, it took a lot of trial and error but now I basically know it like the back of my hand." you sat up and took a bite of his food.

He glared at you, but you knew it had a playful undertone.

"I think I burned down his kitchen at least twice. I love his auntie." you took a sip of your drink, which was a horchata.

He looked at your drink "What's that?"

"This is horchata, I learned it from Miguel. He taught me, it's pretty good, have a sip." you handed him your drink

He hesitated a little less than last time

".. I suppose it's fine."

"Prince Damian liking my cooking? It's a miracle!" you clapped and he hit you on the shoulder, making you fall dramatically yet again.

While you both were talking, a brunette little boy came up to you both.

He looked no older than 5, and he had tears in his big black eyes.

He came up to you "Hi, I am Elijah, and I can't find my mommy. She said not to talk to strangers but I don't know what to do!"

He started bawling his eyes out, and in an attempt to calm him down, you handed him a juice box.

"Look, we'll help you find your mom, okay?" you stood up and picked up Ellijah on your hip.

Elijah was starting to calm down.

That was until Damian glared at Elijah, making him cry even harder.

You glared back at Damian, knowing that this was gonna make it harder to find his mom.

You had to make him stop crying, stat.

So, you did the only thing you knew worked for you. The things your friends did when you cried.

"..do you want a piggyback ride?"

That shut up Ellijah really quickly.

After the piggyback ride, you put him down and decided to keep chatting with Elijah.

Damian spaced out both of you talking in order to not get too mad that your time together was being interrupted.

That was until Elijah insulted Damian.

"he's a butthead!" he pointed at Damian

"if you don’t shut it, I’m going to give you a new set of holes to breathe out of." Damian said glaring at Elijah again.

"Damian," you said sternly, bringing Elijah closer to you just in case.

After half an hour his mom finally came."oh I'm so glad I found him!" his mom said, hugging Ellijah close

"Mommy!" Elijah hugged her back, making you smile.

"oh I have to pay you back!" the woman spoke, pulling out a wad of cash from her wallet

"no thank you, ma'am, I'm fine I swear," you said, refusing

"no, I insist!" she tried handing it to you, only for you to push it away.

You backed off a little "It's completely free! he's a sweet guy!"

The woman finally gave up "Do you babysit?"

"Sometimes, yeah! Do you need my business card?" you started pulling one out of your purse

You guys fell into conversation, and Damian was growing impatient.

After another 30 minutes, you both packed up everything and went home.

The car ride was silent, unlike the other times when it was filled with laughter, chatting, and music.

Once you both got to the manor, you spoke up "What was that about?!"

Damian flinched at your sudden anger "What was what about?"

"Why did you threaten a 5-year-old?" you looked him in the eyes

He crossed his arms "he insulted me."

"he called you a buttface." You pointed out

"I stand by my point," Damian said

You put your hands on your hips "Why did you get so mad over a kid? he doesn't even know his numbers!"

"I don't see your point," Damian argued

"youre insuffuerable! I get why everyone calls you a demon." you grew angrier by the second.

"You an annoyance!" Damian stomped"why are you so stubborn, Peni?!" you yelled.

You both froze at the mention of her name.

You awkwardly made your way to your room, avoiding Damian's eyes.

You didn't notice how despite his angry face, there was a tint of sadness in his eyes.

you were in your room, processing what happened after a nice everything shower.

you were doing your skincare when you got a call from Noir.

"hey doll, do you mind taking care of peni for a bit?"

"of course! did anything happen?" you said, putting the call on speaker

"no, its just that peni's been asking to hang out with you for quite a while. plus, it'd be less worrying to go out on patrol and not be scared for her." in the backround, you could make out the sound of peni getting her things ready

"No problem, peni's an angel! what time will you be getting here?"

"is 15 minutes fine?"

"of course! is it a sleepover or just like a hangout?"

"sleepover."

"alright, ill see you both later."

you spent the next 15 minutes putting on your pjs and getting everything ready.

you prepared snacks and a movie night.

you were so ready for her to come over!

15 minutes had gone by when you heard the doorbell ring.

you ran through the dark, haunted looking walls.you pushed back Dick, who was also trying to get to the door.

"I'll get it!" you basically slammed yourself against the door.

you quickly recovered and opened the door.

"Noir!" you noticed how peni wasnt next to him like she usually was "wheres peni?"

"shes getting her stuff from the car."

"thats fine, come in!" you invited him in

"thanks."

alfred and noir made conversation, and you didnt notice damian basically stalking you all

you saw through the window that peni was on her way in. you jumped from your seat on the floor you will never be worthy enough for the family couch and opened the door for her.you spun peni into a hug

"Hi angel!"

Peni laughed, smiling at how tightly ypu were hugging her.

you didnt notice damian sneaking into your room.

As soon as he got there, he ran to your plushies.

Uour stupid plushies.

He pulled out his katana and started ripping them.

He had no idea why he'd done it, he just wanted to.

He made sure to focus on the Miguel plush, he was so mad that man took you away from them.

by the time you got back to your room with Peni not that far behind, you froze looking at the plusihies.

Damian didnt look guilty.

You dragged him away from the plushies, and dodging his kicks and punches as much as you could you scolded Damian "Why would you do that?"

he stayed silent, avoiding your eyes.

you slammed the door on his face and made your way to the plushies.

you held the now mangled miguel plush in your hands, and tried to not let out any tears.

Peni picked up your Miles plushie, which was now missing an eye and got an idea:

"I can probably fix this up, if youd like?"

"Actually?"

"Yeah! noir taught me how to sew a while ago."

She started fixing them and you finished setting up everything, still angry at Damian.

Why would he do this? He was the one who started all of this.everything started off great with him, what happened?

the more you thought of it, the more angry you got.

Meanwhile, Damian was in his room processing what he had done.

He didnt know why he did it exactly.

Could it be the jealousy?

Seeing you treat others that arent related to you like family?

Seeing you treat the little boy like the baby brother you never had?

Seeing you hold Peni and Peni not resisting?seeing how happy you were with her?

He's never felt so humiliated being kicked out of your room while companies over!

He had to apologize before peni could replace him before you hated him like you hated Alfred.

He made his way to your room and heard you and peni talking.

"She said i walk like a bitch, what does that even mean?!" a high pitched voice spoke, damian assumed came from the younger girl.

"Shes so annoying. i dont even know her and she sounds stupid." you said

"She is!" the high pitched voice spoke

Damian barged in.

He saw you painting peni's nails, and a movie playing in the background.

It was legally blonde, a movie he once caught Jason watching in his apartment.

an awkward silence passed by

You looked up at him "do you need something?"

"yes." he spoke up

"..well what is it?"

"i insist she leaves." Damian pointed to Peni

you quickly hid her behind you "She is not leaving."

"Y/n-" peni tried to interject, only to be cut off by you.

"Listen, damian, she isnt leaving. whatever you have to say, you can say it to my face."

"..Fine."he took a deep breath "i apologize." he muttered, ever so quietly.

"what was that?" you said, squatting down a bit to get to his level

"I apologize!" he put his head down in embarrassment

"Was that so hard?" You put you hands on your hipsyou took a deep breath "Okay, its whatever."

you continued "Im also sorry for getting so mad at you. and for calling you by Peni's name."

"You did what now?" Peni said, suprised.

"It's a long story." you started kicking damian out of your room.

The last thing he saw in your room was the now stitched up plushies.

As soon as he got out, you started talking to peni.

"Peni, please be careful around him."

Peni looked at you, confused "What do you mean?"

You opened a nail polish "He threatened a literal 5 year old."

Peni looked at you, bewildered "what?"

it was 3 in the morning when Peni got thirsty.

She knew that most likely, every one of your family members would be on patrol.

She started making her way out your room, making sure you didnt wake up.

Even though you were a heavy sleeper, she didnt wanna wake you up.

She knew her way around the manor, you've prevously hosted small get togethers with the spider-gang without anyone noticing.

As soon as she got to the kitchen, she noticed how damian was there.

She knew you had told her to be careful around him.

She tried sneaking around him, only for him to sneak up on her.

"Boo." Peni jumped at Damian scaring her.

"You scared me."

As she was about to yell at him, she felt something brush past her leg.

a little black and white cat.

"Awww, what a cutie!" She picked him up.

Damian was about to protest, knowing that alfred the cat usually would attack when picked up.

It caught him off guard how calm the cat was.

She put her hand out to him "I'm Peni."

He shook her hand "I know. Im Damian."

"He usually doesnt tolerate newcomers." He spoke

"Well, he can probably sense how i have a cat." Peni pet Alfred.

Damian's eyes lit up at her words "You do?"

"Yep! noir has a cat named Ding Ding, she's so sweet." Peni's eyes also lit up at being able to talk about it.

They both started talking about little cat facts, sitting on the kitchen floor.

They only stopped when they heard a certan voice.

"Can you guys shut up? It's literally 3 am." you rubbed your eyes, half asleep.

"Y-yeah, we'll be quiet, sorry." Peni prayed youd forget the warning you gave her to be careful around Damian.

You turned around to go back to bed, only to walk back when you remembered.

You started lightly scolding Peni about not hearing your warning, with Damian trying not to laugh.

Peni glared at Damian and spoke up "listen, im fully unharmed, see?"

You realised you were overreacting and took a deep breath. "youre right, im sorry. i just got all worried."

you quickly bear hugged her "Im so sorry angel, I wont do this again!"

"Y/n!" Peni laughed as quietly as she could.

"C'mon guys, lets head to bed." You picked them both up by the scruff of the neck, suprising Damian

"Put me down at once! Stop this nonsense!" He tried thrashing around.

He looked at Peni to see if she was doing the same thing, only to see her acting like this was normal between them.

You dropped Damian off at his room and brought peni to yours.

Damian ended up sneaking into your room an hour later

oh my god this is ass lmfao

if it feels rushed thats cause it was i was loosing motavation to finish this

im sososo sorry for the mistakes its like 3 am rn

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[oddlylovingaddiction]

; Coming Full Circle.

CLEARLY you all are desperate for an actual story on this blurb I quickly wrote up ♡

Part 1: (You are here!) , Part 2: Here! , Part 3: Here! , Part 4: Here!

CW: Reader is pregnant BUT is gender neutral only being referred to as you, if you don’t have the ability to get pregnant you do now (in this potential series). Neglected reader x (platonic.) bat family. reader is somewhat introverted and is describe loosely as attractive. Reader is probably around in your 20s (21 - 25) and is the 5th(??) oldest. READER ALSO HAS NO IDEA THAT THE WAYNE FAMILY ARE SUPERHEROS (for now…)

TW: Abuse in the form of emotional neglect, Reader’s mom is dead, Pregnancy and rich people.

You weren’t a kid anymore. Part of you wonders if you ever got the chance to be one. Your mom died when you were pretty young, barely 6 at the time, you don’t remember much about her. She was pretty though, maybe that’s where you got your looks from?

You spent 4 years at an orphanage after her passing, until one day a car came and picked you up and took you to a big manor. Apparently Bruce Wayne was your father, but not just an adoptive one, your biological father. That was definitely shocking, You looked so much like your mother that you really couldn’t see the resemblance, maybe if you really focused you could see some aspects of the new father you suddenly gained.

You only met Bruce a handful of times, the first time was to greet you. He seemed particularly disinterested, you were only just a bit younger than Jason which he was currently focused on at the time. Bruce showed you to your room it was way bigger than your room in the orphanage then promptly disappeared, Alfred (who you came later to learn was the butler and NOT your new grandfather.) showed you around the rest of the Manor, claiming that Bruce had paperwork that needed more attention than his newly gained child, okay, he didn’t put it like that but that’s basically what he ment.

The Manor was big and rather empty, you wonder what the point of all this space was as a child. As you grew older you grew to understand and appreciate its big and emptiness, because then you couldn’t run into any of your other siblings. Whenever you meet them, it’s awkward, like you’re an outsider. Which you suppose you are, but it’s different because you later learn that all of your siblings were adopted, minus Damian but you only gained him as your sibling towards the end of your stay in the Manor. So why did they treat you like you were the odd when out, when they all should know perfectly how that feels since they were also outsiders at one point? To this day you have no clue.

You quickly grew adjusted to not being around your family. The first the phew years was difficult, you craved their attention like any normal child. You remember you used to cry at night as a kid wondering what you did wrong for them to barely even glance your way, to not even love you… but after the third birthday with the exact same gift you got on previous birthdays from Bruce, continually getting rejected by all your siblings on your offers to hang out and occasionally catching wholesome moments between your siblings and Bruce where they were chatting and laughing without you, You naturally gave up on trying.

You instead grew as a person without them, you made friends at school, developed your own personal fashion taste, you discovered your hobbies and your personality. You occasionally heard news about your family from Alfred (You never got used to only hearing news from him), like how Jason died, Tim was brought in, turns out Jason was alive and at some point Damian was also brought in. The timeline was messy. Honestly you didn’t think much about why Bruce adopted so many damn kids nor did you bother to concern yourself with their affairs.

Instead you discovered somethings more important. Number one is your huge allowance, you knew Bruce was a billionaire and filthy, disgustingly rich, but not to the point your allowance was in the MILLIONS. The second thing is nobody cares about you, to the point one time when you were around 17 you stayed at a friend’s house for two days without telling anyone, came back and apparently no one had any idea you even left when you asked Alfred.

Those two things got you to where you were now, a stunning and safe apartment with the most beautiful view in the whole of Gotham, a loving husband who would do practically anything for you, heavily pregnant in your 20s and currently surrounded by your shocked family.

You had a fight with your husband and you were livid at him deciding to spend some time at the Wayne Manor just to cool off (and to somewhat teach him a lesson), You honestly thought that nobody would care when you came waltzing back. Since nobody cared any other time.

However you were sorely mistaken. To the point you regret not just staying at a hotel or something. When you first walked through the door, Alfred greeted you. You were occasionally in contact with him, but you neglected to tell him about the pregnancy, let alone the fact you were married mainly because you knew he’d run and tell the entire family and you’d rather keep your life private from them. Which is probably why he stopped mid greeting to stare at your belly. It looked like he was buffering as he let you in and led you to the kitchen, you texted him on the ride there that you were a bit thirsty, so he prepared you some tea.

“My word, you’re really pregnant?” Alfred finally said once you sat down at one of the counters, which earned a chuckle from you as he slid your tea over to you.

“Last time I checked… which was in a mirror and when I felt the little gremlin kicking around in me on the drive here, I am.” You say with a smile before proceeding to chug your tea. “May I ask-” Alfred starts but before he can finish he’s interrupted by Damian, who entered the kitchen to grab some snacks at some point but instead noticed you.

“What on earth is that.” Damian hissed, he looked disturbed and disgusted as he pointed at your belly, like he just discovered a bug. Which ticked you off.

“An Alien, no use your head what does it look like?” You sarcastically reply. Normally Damian would’ve retorted however you quickly decide that you want to relax in the living room where you could continue your conversation with Alfred. As you and Alfred quickly leave, abandoning your empty tea cup, and finally settling in the living room. However you suddenly hear a STORM of footsteps from inside the house. You turn around and realize Damian followed you to the living room, phone in hand and clearly had texted the entire family about his new discovery.

“Fuck me…” you mutter softly, your peaceful days of being ignored were probably officially over. All thanks to your one dumb decision to come here. While you silently regretted your choices, almost the entire Wayne family had run into the living room, Tim was the first to run in shouting “WHO’S PREGNANT?”

You only really snap out of it when you notice the entire Wayne family staring at you, they got here faster than expected. Not all of them were here but most of them.

‘Maybe I really am carrying an Alien’ You ponder momentarily before you begin to speak, “Listen I’m only here momentarily because I had a small disagreement with my husband—” “HUSBAND?” Dick squeaks out his voice breaking in shock. “Yes— wait why are you all here anyways?” You say as it dawns on you how ridiculous this whole reaction was. Hell even BRUCE WAYNE, the supposed father you were under the care of, that you never saw for the majority of your life was even here.

“Well cause you know Bruce is always bringing home kids it’s the first time someone other than him is bringing home one, let alone an unborn one.” Cassandra pointed out, which you promptly agreed nodding your head. That explains it, to this damn family it must be pretty alien.

“Okay, well I’m pregnant. I get it shocking and stuff but there’s no need to—“ You say trying to calm down the situation when you are interrupted by Damian who’s pointing at your belly where your baby, as if sensing the crowd of spectators, decided to do its own acrobatic routine.

“Ew why is it moving….” Damian said, You’re starting to wonder why you even talk. “Don’t say ew. It’s just kicking, if you want you can touch my belly—” you regret those words instantly as around 20 hands immediately fly to touch your belly where the baby continues to kick. You’d almost find the whole situation adorable if it weren’t for the fact they were your family who previously didn’t give a flying fuck about you.

All of a sudden Bruce, noticing your uncomfort, clears his throat. When he does the 20 hands resend from touching your belly, “How far along are you?” He asks calmly but you can clearly hear his voice shake slightly. “7 months.” You reply calmly to which Damian opens his mouth again.

“Jesus when is it going to come out— wait how does it come out…” He still look horrified to which you suppressed a laugh. “Did no one teach you where babies come from?” You laugh and then pause when the room goes silent.

“Oh my god…” you mutter, no wonder he’s so disturbed. You hear Bruce quickly whisper to Selina “I thought you told him!” To which Selina fires back, “Me?! It’s your job!”

That’s your cue to leave before you have to witness a very uncomfortable conversation. “Okay, I’m going to go to my room, I’m tired.” To which everyone nods giving you space to leave.

Phew hours had gone by and you were relaxing in bed on your phone, when you heard a knock on your door.

“Come in!” You call, assuming it was Alfred but instead the one who came waltzing in was Damian. He looked awkward and you definitely felt that as well.

“Hello.” He said as he walked over to you staring at you where you were lying down.

“Uh… Hi Damian… how can I help you?” You ask praying he just going to briefly insult you and walk away like he did in the past. Instead he looks curious.

“I have been educated on where kids come from. It is very disturbing.” You chuckle at his statement and at his face full of regret while putting your phone away.

“It’s not too bad, at least you learned from your parents and not your friends half way into high school.” You say smiling reaching out and patting his small shoulder at your own memory of your shocked friends as they held your hand in the bathroom and slowly explained it to the poor naive you.

“Yes that sounds way worse.” He admits as you laugh at his sentiment, to which he scowls a bit before snapping out of it. “Anyways, like I said, I have been educated and although it’s very disturbing I commend your bravery for creating life.”

Damn it, he made it awkward again. You resend your hand awkwardly and place it back on your chest, Damian continues speaking though. “I also did some research and apparently the fetus can hear around the 5th month, and since you said it’s in the 7 month stage it can hear. Which means it heard me insulting it.”

You nod at his words, encouraging him to get whatever he’s planning on doing over with already. When he sees your nod, he removes his hands from behind his back, he’s holding a book.

“So to replace my negative words I have brought an educational book, normally I know perhaps the other parent my read so the baby gets used to both your voices, however since your a single parent—“

you give him an incredulous look “no… I have a husband.” To which he stares at you like your pants are on fire, that’s how much of a liar he thinks you are.

“Yes… right.. well since this supposed husband isn’t here to read to your child I shall.” He plops himself beside you, not accepting any protests from you about how you really do have a husband, he begins to read, you give in closing your eyes, clearly you’re going to be here awhile. “Law 1. Always make those above you feel comfortably superior…” you scrunch your face at his words as he reads. Half way into chapter one your eyes fly open and realize that he’s actually reading.

“Are you reading 48 laws of power right now?” You say staring at the book he’s holding as you prop yourself up on your elbows. He gives you a look like you just said the sky was blue.

“Yes of course? It needs to come out smart. Now please lie back down.” He says pushing you to lie back down. You give in once again, you’re too tired to protest against Damian anyways…

At some point both you and Damian passed out, the book could only hold both your interests long enough and the warmth of your room was just perfect for a nap. You stare down at the still sleeping Damian, whose head is currently resting on your belly, contemplatively. In someways you were jealous he fit in perfectly with the Wayne family and was actually treated like their sibling and child. However on the other hand you were honestly glad you were not loved like he was, because if you were you would’ve never met your husband (that you are now starting to miss…) and you also would’ve never been given the opportunity to create your own family, one that will love you truly.

You didn’t like the fact that Damian used to insult you occasionally in the past, but it’s not like you held it against him and you also don’t regret making fun of him back. Although he was a brat at times, he was still a child. A child in a huge messy family that just happened to be your little brother. Perhaps that was the gnawing feeling in your heart. The knowledge such a small kid like him will probably struggle in someways you used to is weighing heavy on you. He was earnest, and clearly tried his best from the fact alone he came to your room to read a book that he knew would help the baby… even if that book was the laws of power and was incredibly boring (in your opinion.)

He was just like you when you were smaller. That thought made you gently reach down and stroke his head. “I hope you’ll only make smart choices, but even if you don’t I’ll still love you, my dear. Just remember, don’t hold onto people who will never hold you gently and lovingly. After all, You are the most precious thing to me and you will be precious to so many others. You are worth your weight in gold.” You whisper to the sleeping boy, the same words your mother said at her passing. You feel yourself getting chocked up, after all this day was full of emotions for you. And you aren’t quite ready to face those emotions so you close your eyes.

After saying all those words and remembering the things you’d almost rather forget you find yourself pulled back into sleep. This time though, Damian had a small smile etched on his face as he slept..

[hearts4mica]

Tell me what to do. To make it all feel better.

What if. The Batboys find out you’ve been messing up your recipes on purpose?

Part 1 here

———————————————————————————

It was another day of baking. This time you wanted to bake something for Alfred since he was the one who taught you how to bake in the first place.

You decided to bake a vanilla cake! Alfred’s favorite of course.

So you obviously went shopping and had to sneak out since Bruce didn’t want you going out by yourself since ‘Gotham is too dangerous’ maybe it is but you’re just going to the supermarket

You bought your ingredients and decided to start baking without your brothers finding out of course you can’t let them know that you can actually bake.

After a while you finished the cake. Its pretty surprising that no one came into the kitchen! Well its pretty early on the weekend so they’re probably still sleeping.

Alfred came into the kitchen and you gave him the cake. He thanked you and grabed a piece.

But

Just at that time Damian walked into the kitchen. Just perfect.

You both just stared at eachother. While you still had your dirty apron on.

“Good morning [name] i see you baked a cake for Alfred… it smells good?” Damian said

“What does that mean Damian! Does that mean you dont like my cooking?!” You said in a dramatic way trying to get him to leave the kitchen but it obviously backfired. “I didn’t bake thi-”

And at that moment Alfred decided to betray you!

“Young Miss [name] baked me a cake Master Damian would you like to try it“ Alfred said with a smug smile he wanted for you to stop poisoning your sibling with burnt cookies.

“[name] baked it? Didn’t you said you didn’t bake it dearest sister?” Damian walks up to the cake grabs a fork and takes a small bite.

“shit…”

“Are you sure [name] baked it?” (That little shit of course you did but he can’t know that!)

“N-” “Yes” Alfred cuts you off once again.

“Oh everyone would love to hear this” he says as he leaves the room.

———————————————————————————

At dinner everyone is sitting silently esting until Damian decides to break the silence.

“Did you know that our dearest sister here [name] actually knows how to bake? In fact she baked a cake for Alfred today and it tasted great” damian said with an evilish grin.

“SHE WHAT?!”

That little snitch.

“Baby bird why would you do that?!” Dick says

Its not going to be a short dinner.

———————————————————————————

At the end of the day Bruce lectured you about it and grounded you now you have to bake something for your “brothers” atleast twice a week! And it can’t be burnt anymore what’s the fun in that?

———————————————————————————

How would they react?

Dick would be pretty upset about this i mean who wouldnt his ‘baby’ sister made her cookies bad on purpose! Were you mad at them for something? You and him are going to have a long boring fun talk

Jason would be pretty surprised that you actually were smart enough to think about this since he still sees you the way you were before his dead

Tim i feel like he already knew that since he spends so much time spying you- he actually didn’t mind the taste it kept his brain busy?

Damian was really upset his older sister gave him burnt cookies! I mean i get it with Drake, but with him your favorite brother?!

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

How would Bruce be affected after the kidnapped fic ?

So many people liked this fic, I have to do a follow-up post! But here's the post if you all want to see it again. Kidnapped fic

Reader is avoiding the bats at every chance they get. Like, you're not even 6 ft apart; isn't that enough? You need them far away from you. They're the reason you got kidnapped in the first place. You weren't a child of Bruce Wayne; if you weren't associated with him, this could have never happened. Not only that, you start to blame yourself. Like a lot, you think maybe if you were strong like Damian, you could have fought them off. Maybe if you didn't rely on them for almost everything, then you would have been safe. You're spending every waking moment and every hour with your mom. She's holding you tight, saying everything is going to be okay. She sleeps with you in your bedroom and never leaves your side. It's crazy how you feel so much safer with her than you'll ever feel with the bats. But since you're at a distance from them and won't even speak to them, their yandere tendencies are literally skyrocketing. Bruce is using the Batcomputer to find the goons that kidnapped you and ruin their entire lives. Dick is literally outside of your room asking—no, begging—for you to let him in. He leaves little notes at your door, trying his hardest for you to talk to him. At one point, he's going to bust down that door just to try and comfort you. Jason knows what it's like to be abandoned and forgotten. He did call you a spoiled brat, but he never really meant it. He's your big brother. Please let your big brother help you when you need him the most; he can relate to how you're feeling right now. He swears just let him protect you; he wants to be the one to save you, whether you like it or not. Tim is watching your every move. You finally feel confident enough to go out alone by yourself, but he's two steps behind you, staring. He had a nightmare that you were taken away again. He opens your door and watches you sleep for hours, just to make sure that you're still there. Duke is trying to help you gain confidence by going outside and being out at night, but every time he tries to hold your hand or keep you close, you pull away instantly. It breaks his heart to know that he has to keep you at arm's length because that's the only way you guys can connect. But don't worry; he'll be the night light in the city of darkness just for you. You and Damian have a tough relationship; really tough. But he just doesn't find it fair that you're confiding in Alfred or your mother or everybody else except him. When he tries to get close to you, you flinch away. He's not going to hurt you; he swears he's not. He may be the grandson of the demon head, but he's nothing like Ra's, and he's trying to prove that to you and to himself. It doesn't matter; he's chaperoning you no matter where you go, forcing you to hold his hand or stay close. As Robin, it's his job to keep people safe, especially the people he cares about, even if they don't know that he cares about them.