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#dick grayson x batmom
radicallxser · 3 months
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"Careful", you snag the boy's shirt before he can step into the road. The boy's head snaps away from his phone and towards you.
He looks pissed but you watch his face shift into a blank sort of stare.
"Sorry-", you release the grip on his shirt, shifting the carrier on your hip, "you should pay more attention when you're this close to the road."
You offer him a weak smile and he blinks up at you, then turns and scurries across the road, focused back onto his phone. Sighing, you adjust baby carrier and begin walking again.
The walk isn't a horrible one, ten minutes is nothing on the half hour walk it takes you to get to work. It's just a little more difficult with a awkward sized baby carrier.
Typically you'd take the train, but you need to get to the grocery store before it gets dark. The air is already chilly but the forecast calls for snow and the baby doesn't need that.
-
The store is a little warmer when you step inside and you even manage to snag a buggy.
The store is relatively quiet and you find what you need to...except for the box of baby rice towards the back on a shelf you can't reach.
You groan softly, glancing at the snoozing babe. She loves those...
You stand on your very tiptoes, grabbing at air. Then, a hand reaches up and grabs them. You turn, about to ask them for the box, when the man passes the box to you.
"Here, you looked like you needed help." He holds the box out with one hand, running his fingers through his black hair with the other.
You blink curiously at him, then take the box.
"Thank you so much, hon." You grin, placing the item in your cart and hurrying to check out.
-
The walk is still cold, despite the sun barely starting to set. You shiver, somehow managing to carry the groceries and the baby carrier at the same time.
About half a mile from your apartment, you bump into a chest. Dropping a few bags and praying the eggs aren't in them.
"Sorry about that", a masculine voice mumbles above you. You tilt your head up to meet the eyes of a boy a little younger than the one who helped you before. He tilts his head, a tuft of white hair hanging in his eyes.
"Would you like some help?" He starts grabbing the dropped bags before you can answer. He makes a gesture for you to lead the way.
"I'm Jason, by the way. We live in the same complex."
You swear you've never seen him before, but maybe that's just you.
-
That night, groceries put away and a baby snuggled happily against your chest, you lay in bed.
Oblivious to several pairs of eyes watching you and the bickering from the rooftops above.
"Ummi spoke to me today, with the baby!" Damian speaks.
"Yeah, well I helped ma with her groceries!" Jason gives him a playful shove.
"Well, the baby smiled at me!" Dick jabs a thumb at his chest triumphantly.
"All of you hush!" Tim speaks up, crouched next to Duke, eyes focused on a familiar window.
Bruce looms nearby, caught up his daydream where he's the sweater wrapped so tightly around you. Someday.
Someday sooner than you think.
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battymommastuff · 3 months
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The Fire-Eater
Batmom x Batman, Batmom x Batfamily
Prompt: While digging through the attic, Dick Grayson and Jason Todd uncover a secret about their adoptive mother. A secret that reveals the true, and dark story of the most loved couple in Gotham City
Masterlist
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!!DISCLAIMER!! - This likely won't be comic accurate (Obviously), but I did draw inspiration from the comics. If you are looking for something accurate, then this fanfic isn't for you.
*cough*
"Jesus Christ, you'd think they would dust up here once in a while." Jason rasps as he waves his hand in the air to clear the cloud of dust. Dick just rolled his eyes and lifted another box out of the way, causing another cloud of dust to poof into the air, "Where is this damn blanket anyway?" He asked, ripping open an old box to look for the blanket in question. Why? You, their adopted mother, is currently carrying their youngest sibling. The first, and only pregnancy of yours. Seeing that you aren't as young as you used to be, the pregnancy is a high risk. As per doctor's orders, you were to remain on bed rest now that you were close to your due date.
Before that, you'd been working on the nursery. Everything was perfect, but you were missing one thing. Bruce's baby blanket. A blanket you'd only ever seen in pictures, but knew that you wanted it for your future child. Unfortunately, that didn't seem to be possible. All of your children were far too old for the blanket when they were adopted. Now you had your baby on the way, and you wanted that blanket. To prevent you from climbing up there yourself, your two oldest sons decided to.
"Some of the boxes are older than me." Dick joked as he held up a box of old photo albums. The date on the box was ten years before he was born. He set the box down, and kept shifting through the boxes. They were looking for a box with Bruce's birth year on it. All of his baby items were stored there. He moved another box then frowned when he saw one tucked in a far corner. It was opened, and he saw a black outfit lined with red sequins, an outfit he swore he's seen before...a circus outfit. What caught his eye next was a rolled up poster, "Hey, Jason." He called out while picking up the poster. Dick unrolled it slowly, then felt his heart sink to his stomach.
A poster for Haly's Circus. The Circus he was apart of before his biological parents died. He still remembered that day as if it just happened. On the poster was a woman eating fire. Her outfit, a black leotard with red sequins lining it. (H/C) hair, and (S/C) skin. Unless Bruce had a certain type, there was no way it couldn't be you. How? How was this possible? He remembered meeting you that night. You were dressed as if you just walked out of business meeting, and you were with Bruce. The date on the poster dated years before you ever met Bruce.
Dick set the poster down right as Jason approached him, still grumbling about all of the dust. He picked up a small book next. Opening it, he found pictures. Old pictures of you, and other members of the circus. You and Haly...you and his parents. You knew his parents? One picture was of you, his dad, his mom, and him as a newborn. You knew who he was before you ever met him? How come he never knew this? Why did you leave the circus? How did you end up marrying Bruce Wayne of all people?
"Holy shit, Mom never told us this." Jason said while holding up the torches and an old bottle of alcohol. What they saw in the bottom of the box made both of their spines tingle. A mask...a Court of the Owls mask. Dick knew the story, and he knew his lineage. He knew his potential fate, had he never been adopted. Why did you have a mask? All of these questions in his head, and he knew the one person who could answer them.
He shoved all the items back into the box, and stormed out of the attic with it. Dick wanted answers, and he wanted them now. He carried the box through the manor with Jason on his heels, while holding back his tears. He felt lied to? Betrayed? He didn't know, but he needed to know. He felt like you were an entirely new person now. Dick opened the door to your bedroom. You were watching as Stephanie painted your toenails, and Damian was lecturing you on your health.
"Oh! Did you-..." You cut off when you saw the box he was carrying. It'd been years, and you forgot about that box. Honestly, you thought you threw it out, "Dick..." Your oldest son walked over and slammed the box on the bed, causing your two other sons and Stephanie to glare at him.
"Start talking, Mom...right now."
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kimberly-spirits13 · 1 year
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Batmom Messages with Batboys
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the-daydreaming-show · 9 months
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𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧(?) 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬, 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐞 (but patience).
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: A small collection of stories like Batmom! Scarlet Witch as a mother for her children, unintentionally but not by accident, and how it started all with each one.
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Being a member of the Wayne family comes with its quirks.
Being Bruce Wayne's wife has twice the quirks when you consider your husband's nocturnal activities, and it's this second category of quirks that usually concerns you the most.
Or at least that's what you thought would happen when you married him. But, even with being a retired vigilante yourself and already knowing everything that Bruce was Batman implied, it turned out that the other side of the coin was the one that began to bother you the most.
¿Your husband goes out every night dressed as a giant bat and comes back just before the sun rises?
No problem, you handled that like a champ.
¿The city press, who are desperate to know about the woman who finally put Gotham's prodigal son off the market and how the marriage goes every moment of every day?.
Yeah, you hadn't been ready for that.
Over time you got used to the drama and the questions, it helped that you could read their minds before they asked the question for your response planning. But there was one question that haunted you from the first official gala you and Bruce attended after the wedding (which was less than two weeks after the wedding, by the way): ¿When are you going to be pregnant? ¿When do you plan to have a child? ¿Can we soon expect ball gowns to become looser for a bulging belly with a Wayne heir?
And so, on and on, for infinity.
The answer had been maybe or someday, considering that they were both of you still young and in no rush.
In truth, tho, you two had never really considered the possibility of having children. Bruce didn't feel fit to be a father for many reasons. And the possibility of you passing your powers to a biological child was too high to risk. So it was never a card on the table to have children together when you got married, and you both were fine with that. There were talks about adopting as a possibility, but far in the future, like it was almost like a fantasy you two knew that would probably never happen anyway.
But then, things happened…
ACT ONE: a boys tale.
chapter one is Richard “Dick” Grayson
chapter two is Jason “Jay” Todd
chapter three....... (coming soon)
chapter four....... (coming soon)
chapter five....... (coming soon)
ACT TWO: is a girl's world.
chapter six....... (coming soon)
chapter seven....... (coming soon)
chapter eighth....... (coming soon)
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mischieveousmayhem · 11 days
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Mom, what do I do?
Pairing: Dick Grayson x Batmom!Reader
Genre: Angst
Warnings: Mention of death
Synopsis: Dickie is your eldest son. He has endured a lot of pain during his life time. But with you gone and his family falling apart, he feels hopeless.
THE MASTERLIST
Dick Grayson, your eldest son. The second mother of the family .
He's absolutely a wreck but he won't show it for the fact he wants to be strong for his dearest siblings. He cares and worries about them each, however he can't comfort him like you did.
Maybe it is just the fact that he couldn't comfort himself. But his gut tells him it was just you.
He's also worried about Bruce, his father. He hasn't seen that man in days.
Damian sits at the bench in the garden most days, Tim is tweaking off caffeine, and Jason spends most of his time at your grave.
It feels like the world has ended since you were gone. Crime has been awfully quiet and when there is a crime, Dick usually goes out and takes care of it by himself because it's just a small robbery or a small prison break.
Even that wasn't a distraction for your eldest though. He still carried the heavy weight in chest no matter where or what he was doing. It was a continuous struggle.
During his alone time Dick stays in your personal room , which you would sleep in when Bruce upset you, or you would go to get peace quiet.
But the quietness in your room was too silent.
Dick sits on your bed , which still had the scent of your lingering on it. He likes to reminisce how it has changed from when he was a kid to how it is now, as an adult.
All these years of love and comfort you gave him.
His biological mom is still in his heart, but you raised Dick to be the gentleman he is today. The way a kid is raised is very important, and Dick was raised by the best mom anyone could ask for.
So deep in his thoughts, he breaks down. He misses you! He needs you! Not only that his family is absolutely destroyed without you and he needs to put his family back together.
He looks up to the ceiling, "Mom," he croaks, "What do I do?"
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Not How His Monday Was Supposed to Go
Bruce Wayne x plus size reader
The new Wayne Enterprises board member has had enough of Bruce’s shit.
Warnings: Bruce is a bit of an asshole and a pig, mention of a family member needing surgery, swearing, reader is a girlboss, Bruce is low-key a sub, implied smut
WC: 1.1k
Minors DNI
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When you agreed to act as your father’s representative for Wayne Enterprises as he recovered from surgery, you certainly weren’t expecting the CEO of the company to stroll in three hours late, dark purple bruises littering his muscular neck, dark shades perched on the end of his nose, suit and hair ruffled. 
You huffed as he crumpled into the stupidly expensive chair at the head of the table, only four seats down from you. You had to admit he was a very handsome man, with broad shoulders and dark hair that seemed to curl perfectly around his sculpted face. He gave an air of intimidation but his bright blue eyes made him seem approachable. “So what’d I miss?”
And suddenly your attraction to the man was gone.
Every meeting that followed, Bruce would strut into the room several hours late, one time he was already there when everyone arrived but he was asleep and still wearing the same clothes as the day before. Most times, he wouldn’t even show up, but when he did, he wouldn’t contribute anything meaningful to the conversation, simply giving generic anecdotes that related to the women he had seduced.
The most aggravating thing was, you knew how intelligent he could be. Sometimes it would just slip out. He would say something profound and incredibly smart but he would quickly catch himself and wave it off with some half-hearted comment like “or whatever the senator told me last night. Though I could have heard her wrong, her mouth was quite full”. It irked you to no end, especially being the only woman serving on the board.
As the weeks dragged on and your father’s health was improving, your own mental health was going completely downhill and by the time your last day arrived, you were done with this alpha male bullshit that Bruce loved to instigate. So, as your final meeting ended, which Bruce conveniently didn’t attend, you stormed off, ready to give the man a piece of your mind.
Your heels clacked on the polished floor leading to the massive corner office he had claimed for himself. As you neared the huge dark gray doors, you paused for a moment, pulling down your pencil skinny so it sat lower down your plump thighs instead of bunching up, and making sure you didn’t have any of those dreaded button gaps around your considerable bust. 
Taking in one last deep breath, trying to will yourself not to straggle the man right as you saw him, you gave a firm knock to the door and walked in. 
Your boss was hunched over his desk, intently staring at what appeared to be blueprints. His dark Armani suit jacket was off and hanging over the back of his chair, leaving him in only a white button-up that stretched across the bulk of his muscles. 
“Mr Wayne.” He glanced up from his work and a brief look of shock flashed across his face before he steeled his expression once more.
He muttered your name as he pushed his work to the side. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” The words were polite but his tone was anything but. He sounded like a typical frat boy who felt entitled to your attentions and affections. Your face fell into a scowl.
The door shut behind you with a slam, but you did not flinch. “Mr Wayne, this visit will be anything except a pleasure.” You strode forward with all the confidence in the world, anger swirling around you. “I have sat in that boardroom for weeks watching as you indulged men far below your moral and social standing. You have let them run wild, making a fool out of not only themselves but of you and your business.”
Bruce sat back in his chair, eyes wide as he watched you get closer and closer. “And I have had enough. I can see right through you Mr Wayne. You’re a smart man, you’re compassionate and generous, and yet you still act like these worms, pretend to be like them for some dumbass reason.”
You planted your hands onto his desk and loomed over the CEO. “So no matter what you do outside of this office that might redeem your flimsy character, you still let shit like this happen here and that makes you just as bad as those little boys. Fuck you Mr Wayne. Next time I see you, I will kick you in the nuts so hard your kids will feel it.”
And with that you turned and strode out like a conquering hero before realising you forgot something. You stuck your head back into his office. “Oh and go to all your meetings like a goddamn adult.” The door slammed shut on a bewildered looking Bruce who’s pants suddenly seemed a couple sizes too small.
“Wait wait wait. So the first time mom talked to you she cussed you out and threatened to assault you!” Tim exclaimed, eyes wide with shock. Dick and Jason seemed both amused and disgusted while Damian just looked at his father with immeasurable disappointment. Bruce smirked as he watched his boys have a simultaneous meltdown. The question had been a simple one, how did their parents meet, but it seems like they weren’t ready for the answer
“Yep.” He said proudly. “And let me tell you, it was the sexiest thing she’s ever done.”
“Ugh!”
“Gross!”
“Y’all are nasty!”
“Don’t talk about our mother like that!” They all screamed at once and, like usual, came to protect your honour. But Bruce just chuckled.
“She was a powerful woman, what can I say?” 
“Was?” You cooed suddenly over his shoulder. “Who’s the one running Wayne Enterprises now?” Your sharp nails dragged along the skin top of his chest where his tight shirt didn’t cover. He shivered under your touch, his entire body going to mush.
You looked up from your now boneless husband to your sons. “Your father was a real piece of work when I first met him but I fixed him up real good.” You purred and pressed the tips of your nails into his skin.
Jason was the first to break, surprisingly. “Jesus Christ!” He cried out, slapping his hands over his ears. Then, they toppled like dominos.
Dick was positively green, Tim had a vein in his neck that looked like it was about to burst and Damian was glaring at the floor. “Go on boys, get out of here before I teach your father another lesson.” In a collective pile, they tumbled from the room, scrambling to get as far away as possible.
Bruce turned swiftly as soon as the boys were out of earshot and grabbed your hips to tug you down onto the chair with him. “Come on, Mrs Wayne, tell me how bad I’ve been.”
Request: Meets her at Wayne Co, she’s a new board member and have a few words for playboy Bruce who misses many meetings
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apocalypse-shuffle · 11 months
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DICK GRAYSON & JASON TODD | BATFAMILY (assorted canon)
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“Long Overdue: Epilogue” (Dick Grayson & Batmom!Reader), (Jason Todd & Batmom!Reader) and (background Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)
| Reader was with Bruce in the past but grew distant after Jason’s death. No one tells her when he comes back from the dead until Bruce is forced to bring her in on a raid when they’re overwhelmed. -Jason and Batmom!Reader reunion.
| SFW, canon typical action/violence, cursing?, mentions of grief, past death of a child
| This is like half fanon half UTRH/Batman:Hush. I’m really just fucking around with canon rn. Also the pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (pic source: Gotham Knights video game)
| 2k+ words
| parts: one, spurt, two, three, four, five, six/six point five, seven. (series masterlist)
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You walk out of the weapons cache lighter than how you walked into it and head directly for your eldest.
“Dick what the hell?”
Said man, halfway through what looks like calf stretches, sits up and throws a slight frown your way.
“What? What’d I do?”
And bless him but he’s actually thinking it over. Eyes sliding to the side and lips pursing and everything. Racking his brain over what mess he forgot to get himself out of this time.
Somewhere behind you Jason starts laughing at Dick so when he passes by you flick him on the arm. The drama queen then makes a whole show of blowing you off with a half assed ‘ow’. Your eyes meet the dark depths of the cave ceiling for a second as you beg for strength before they lock on Dick once more.
From there all you have to do is purse your lips and raise a brow for him to catch on. His arms fling into the air.
“He said he’d ‘take care of it’, and I haven’t seen you since then. Fuck me for thinking he actually did it! And he only felt the need to tell me three nights ago so it’s not like you’re the only one.”
Your shoulders start to shake and you move closer until you can nudge him. His arms drop and he huffs.
“Easy, little D, I’m just teasing. Don’t beat yourself up over your father’s horrible communication skills, okay?”
“Don’t worry I won’t,” he says.
You do catch the nasty look he throws the cave entrance with despite what he’s said, and the easy tone he’s said it with, however.
“Actually,” Jason pipes up, helmet back on and voice once again skewed. “I’m still hung up on your shit communication skills. Nightfall? Since when has that been a thing?”
He jabs a finger in your direction while pacing around to Dick’s other side. Dick doesn’t do anything but follow the younger’s antics with his eyes.
You laugh, shrugging, and lean back on the cave wall beside the desk. You're still within spitting distance of the boys but you can’t bring yourself to travel any further.
“I’ve been in the game longer than Bruce has, but mostly under an independent contractor. It wasn’t till I came to Gotham that I changed my suit and started calling myself Nightfall; that gimmicky shit is contagious after all.”
“Immensely goddamn contagious,” Jason mutters darkly. He throws a glare Dick’s way that translates pretty perfectly even with the helmet to get him to knock off the staring, but you get the feeling the older only looks away because grilling you is a more pressing matter.
In the next moment Dick snaps his fingers, “You know what I still don’t get? How come we never found out? I mean you didn’t tell me until I was in Blud already.”
That question you can’t shrug away as easily. A grimace crosses your face and Jason makes an intrigued ‘ohh’ sound that honestly makes you want to flip him off. How are you being cajoled by your children right now?
“Well…” you kiss your teeth. “I was in love.”
The “Gross,” Jason lets out is instantaneous and he holds a hand up - it's a flawless reminder that 19 is not yet fully grown. “Forget I asked.”
You roll your eyes. “It’s not that damn bad. It’s just that when we first got Dick Bruce thought it’d be best if he had a greater sense of normalcy out of the cape, and I agreed; one vigilante parent was enough. Then we just kept that same dynamic when we got you,” you gesture to Jason and he tilts his head.
“I’m still not seeing how that relates to the completely unnecessary ‘in love’ comment you made earlier.”
“Jason,” you scold. “I’m getting there, goddamn.”
Dick poorly muffles a laugh and you give him a hard look before rolling your shoulders.
“Back in the day, before Bruce stopped acting like we were a unit and more like I was a casualty of war in the waiting-” you take a deep breath and cross your arms, closing your eyes against the white lights of the cave.
You can hear the way the boys falter, likely glancing to one another to figure out what to do before they each take a step forward.
“Mom-” Dick calls.
“You don’t have to-” Jason’s saying at the same time, their voices overlapping, and you shake your head.
“It’s fine,” you say. You blink your eyes open; both brothers have stilled but they’re balancing forward like they think you’re gonna drop. You huff. “Point is, there was a time where he could’ve convinced me of anything. He used to look at me like I hung the fucking moon just to provide people free light to see, you know? So at a certain time I chose not to tell you two because I didn’t want to challenge the perception of me that you had gotten from Bruce. That’s why you didn’t know, I didn’t want you to think I was as bad as the people you were fighting every night; the people who took away your parents from you. Dick running off was what made me finally spill, but you died years before I would’ve been ready to tell you, Jay.”
Jason clears his throat, “Uh. That why you and hi- Bruce separated?”
“Not really,” you sigh, shaking your head. “It wasn’t Bruce before…it was Bruce after. After you died we didn’t just bounce back…so eventually things between us soured. I loved him but expecting someone to put up with you constantly pushing them away isn’t fair,” you shrug. “How Bruce saw me stopped mattering as much after that.”
Dick nods, lining up what you’ve said to his own memory of the aftermath and coming up with a corresponding connection.
“Yeah, you and Bruce argued for hours after you met Tim that first time…and then some more when Stephanie became Robin. Hell, even by the time I’d gotten back earthside you and Bruce were down right frosty when you were next to each other even though you were trying to hide it from us.”
“Yeah,” you grunt. “That’s all we tend to do now. Stay mad.”
Staring off into the distance Dick nods and Jason catches your eye, or maybe the other way round.
Whatever expression he is looking at you with is impossible to place but he is definitely watching you. Uncannily all the boys had Bruce’s tendency to look at things, and by extension people, like they were puzzles to solve. Which came with the added bonus of the recipient of said stare being able to feel it. Feel the weight of being dissected and picked apart as if it was a physical thing.
Most buck under that level of analysis. Wholly used to the originator of that stare though you continue on as usual. If he wasn’t going to ask then you had nothing to say.
After it becomes clear you won’t be coughing anything more up Jason backs off, pushing the conversation towards lighter material until Dick and him are carrying the back and forth together. They play off of each other in stunted stops and starts, and barely concealed hostility on Jason’s part, but their awkward attempts at light hearted banter still get your mind out of the gutter you’d landed in.
Ten minutes of forced jokes and almost insults later and Jason starts giving less than subtle hints at wanting to head out. After that it doesn’t take long before he comes over, and he doesn’t reach out to you but he does softly knock your shoulders together.
“See you later, Ma,” he says for your ears alone.
“Goodbye Jason,” you respond even though you’d rather never have him leave your side again.
You watch him go and are drastically reminded that your eyes have been incessantly brimming with tears this whole time when a few slip down your face with little prompting.
A few more beads follow the path of the others after you catch sight of the truly cracked look on Alfred’s face when Jason comes up to him before there’s an arm slinging across your shoulders and Dick’s urging you into a hug.
You take it. You raised some good kids, you’ll give yourself that much. Even if there were some major fuck ups along the way.
“It’s kinda surreal, isn’t it?”
“Oh absolutely,” you croak. “I like it though.”
Dick shrugs, “Yeah. It wouldn’t really be us if things got too predictable anyway.”
He waits a beat and then, “So who’s updating Babs?”
“Let me guess,” you deadpan, “he told you two at the same time?”
“Pretty much. Which that, combined with everything that happened with Steph and The Birds, and having to break all this to Cass means her fuse is waaay shorter than usual.”
“Not it,” you proclaim.
Dick’s mouth drops open, his gaze snapping to you.
“What? That’s not fair.”
“Says who? I’m not cleaning up after Bruce anymore than I already am, and she’s your friend, Dick.”
“It’s still unfair,” he grumbles. He brushes it off quickly though. “So….I heard you and Cass ran into each other a few days ago.”
“Yeah. Last Sunday.” You side eye him. “Right after you almost started a grease fire in your new apartment.”
Dick holds his hand to his chest, tone barely upset enough to sound like true hurt. “Don’t look at me like that, I can cook.”
You nod slowly, “I know you can cook,” then shake your head in the same manner. “But you cannot fry.”
“It’s not my fault the oil fights back. I get enough shit in my nightly life. I don't need it when I’m at home on top of that.”
He smiles but the way it doesn’t reach his eyes churns your stomach.
“Maybe pan frying just isn’t for you,” you murmur but your hand goes up to touch his arm. “How’re you feeling?”
Dick shrugs. Gaze locking somewhere over your shoulder.
“As good as I can be,” you give him a sideways look and he forces a chuckle, rocking back from your touch. “Seriously I’m fine. Please don’t stress out about me. Are you okay?”
“Uh huh,” you grunt before pushing him towards the benches on the other side of the cave. “Sure. I’m fine. Now come on, let’s go sit.”
“Mom-”
“Nope. Move before you pass out or some shit.”
“Ah,” he gasps. “You said a bad word.”
“Dick,” you curb the urge to roll your eyes.
- - -
Whatever conversation Jason’s just had with Alfred doesn’t seem to have left him any more tense than he already was, which is good. You and Dick stop mid sentence to watch him walk off from your new position on the floor.
You with a foam roller and your first child dramatically cringing every time you go over the area just above the hole in his calf. Part of it you’re sure is him trying to cheer you up but the other you're certain are actual expressions of pain because he went out on a literal bullet wound even though you’d told him to stay his ass home.
“I don’t know why he’s under the impression that I can’t shoot without killing someone but he’s wrong,” Jason’s saying. He pats the occupied holster at his thigh while making his way towards the vehicle pathway. “Anyway, I’m gonna get outta here. The later I see you Bats the better.”
“Jason!”
“Except for you, Ma! I’ll call you tomorrow!” He yells over his shoulder, running his fingers over the handle of the bike closest to him.
“You’d better,” you yell back. You’d be happy to reinstate another child that would lament the drama in their lives to you on your call list.
“Uh oh,” Dick says under his breath.
You turn to look over at him for barely a second, brows raised and mouth partially open, when the sound of a motorcycle revving answers your unasked question for you.
Looking back at the bikes shows Jason’s already peeling out of the cave with a yell of: “I’ll leave this somewhere you can find!”
You blink after him, not sure if you want to laugh or not.
“That’s not good,” Dick murmurs. When you turn to him he’s grimacing and seeing your expression he nods to the now empty spot. “That was Tim’s bike.”
“Oh.” For the first time since finding out the implications of Jason being Red Hood really hit you. Your lips purse. If he’d really been at that confrontation Tim came out of with a (mild according to him) slit throat during the Hush debacle, and been the one to infiltrate Titans Tower and lay Tim out a few weeks back you had a situation. “Oh lorde.”
“Yeah,” Dick gets up in one swift motion, hands on the roller. “We can’t have regular family problems. Nope.”
Unfortunately he’s right. A sigh falls past your lips. Either way, that was one down. You stand, addressing Dick while he’s putting the foam back.
“Excitement aside, before you head back to New York you want to come help me make dinner?” You incline your head. “Tim can come too.”
He smiles at you. You know he understands you not wanting to get too close to the teen but appreciates you including him in stuff anyway.
“Yeah, Mom, I’d love to. Just let me get my stuff and I’ll call him.”
“Okay.”
Dick leaves and you settle in to wait just as the Batmobile comes rumbling into the Cave. You cut your eyes at the vehicle but otherwise don’t acknowledge as Bruce gets out of it, heading immediately to change.
Alfred comes up to your side a breath later. The two of you nod in greeting.
“Sorry for taking the kids from you.”
“That’s quite alright, Mistress Y/n,” His voice drops to a whisper. “Between the two of us I believe Master Timothy may resort to camping in the woods behind the estate if he’s stuck here a moment longer. I’ll gladly allow you to take them both. You go deal with yours and I’ll deal with mine.”
“Have fun,” you croon lightly. The butler gives you a wry look in response. You shrug. “Oh, and if you wouldn’t mind could you tell Bruce to meet me at the Wayne Plot?”
A nod from the old butler.
“Is there a specific time you would like for me to convey as well?”
“He’ll know,” you say simply.
Alfred gives a curt nod.
“Certainly then. Farewell, my dear.” Alfred arches a brow at Dick as he comes back with a duffle swung over his shoulder. “And do try to express upon Master Richard the necessity of wearing his winter gear this year.”
“Alfred,” the man huffs.
You laugh and flick said man in the side. “I don’t think I’ll have to. He should have learned his damned lesson with that two week cold.”
“And I really did,” he bats your hand away and then speeds off. “I'll be upstairs.”
“Bye!” You laugh after him.
This was something you could work with. Putting time into your relationships with your boys and Tim. Solid plan. You say your farewells to Alfred and then follow after your eldest. Your gripes with Bruce could wait, you had dinner to make and two boys to feed.
Fin.
NOTES: I don’t know how severe the implications of a two week cold are but whatever. Hope you enjoyed!!
Thank you all for embarking on this journey with me, this is the first long form series I’ve actually finished so I’m very excited to cap it off!!
Anyway, long overdue is done but I will also write extras to this series at some other time in the future (if you’d like to be tagged in those then tell me).✌🏾
And yes I did my best not to have to write Tim or Cass yet, I can barely write Dick as is. Also let’s just assume Reader had the decency to actually inform Dick about Jason’s death and as such he wasn’t forced to dig for that information himself behind Bruce’s back.
btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.
Tagged: @aarinisreading, @niphredil-14, @mxtokko, @calsjack, @brunnetteiwik, @trashpenguin
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bluebellhairpin · 10 months
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Thou So Long Hast Mourn'd
Bruce Wayne X Batmom!Reader
Summary: After Jason's passing, your grief and anger combined causes you to leave Gotham - swearing only to return when you have a perfect chance to kill the Joker for what he did to your son. (Part 2 to 'Hell Hath No Fury')
Warnings: Loss and Grief (Mentions of a funeral and repeated mentions of Jason dying. We miss Mumma's Boy Jay a lot :( ). Bad coping mechanisms all round. Clark Kent acts as a marital buffer. (Reader is fem coded; has she/her pronouns; is referred to as ‘wife’ multiple times. Has the hero name of 'Valentine'.)
Listening to: 'Skyfall' By Adele - "I know I'd never be me without the security of your loving arms keeping me from harm."
Series Masterlist || Masterlist || Ko-Fi
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Yes, thou shalt know, spite of thy past Distress, - 
Jason’s funeral was attended by a very small number of people. Yourself, Bruce, Dick, and Alfred all front and center. 
For days, weeks, the media pestered asking question after question. “A tragic accident.” Commissioner Gordon would reply. It became you answer too, like a well-rehearsed prayer. 
A tragic accident. Tragic. Accidental tragedy. Accident. 
Except it was no such accident. Someone killed Jason. A man, who still walked free, murdered your son. 
Even now, a month after you buried the child, as you sat listening to rain pat against the window panes in Wayne Manor, you remembered what you’d told Bruce the night he brought Jason home for the last time. 
“I’m going to kill him.” you said. “I’m going to kill the Joker.” You told Bruce you’d do what you’d vowed to never do again. You promised yourself to avenge your son, to make sure no one else would ever lose a child to that monster ever again. 
Ever since that night you’d felt a wedge slide between you and Bruce. Dick, only sixteen and having lost the closest thing he had to a brother was feeling it - you could see it on his face, and they way he held his shoulders at dinner. How you were feeling, how little Bruce was doing about it - none of it was doing Dick any good. 
Aside from the anger, you didn’t know how you were feeling. You never thought you’d ever be a mother - you had no idea what to do to help anyone. So you left. 
Bruce was out on patrol - he dove into Batman head first, a bitter feeling in your stomach had you thinking he was compensating. Dick was out - gymnastic practice, which Alfred was in charge of tonight. You were left alone in a huge house, and you couldn’t stand to stay there any longer. 
A small bag was packed with basics - clothes, cash, a few weapons from the cave, and a single family photo taken while on vacation just that past summer (stolen from its frame and folded into a jacket pocket close to your heart). As you walked past the main living space, you stopped, and looked up towards the item hanging above the fireplace. 
The sword - Excalibur - a god-given gift to humankind to exact true justice, now resting as a collectors antique catching dust. You knew if you took it that you would be able to do what you needed to. During your time using it there was no greater pull than to execute Joker - yet something always stopped you. 
You knew it was Bruce. 
Even already, your own guilt over what you meant to do wouldn’t let you take it with you. 
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Naturally, on that night, Alfred brought Dick was home first. It was already nine thirty, and while Dick would be up for a long while, he knew the boy wasn’t sleeping proper anymore. 
Alfred sent him up to his room anyway, reassuringly with a hand on his shoulder, telling him to go try and get some rest. 
But Alfred knew something wasn’t right in the Manor the moment he stepped inside. It was too quiet. Like it had been empty as long as they’d been away - even though he knew full well you should’ve been there to keep the house alive. 
Although not trained, the butler had a sixth sense for a lot of things - he was a natural at whatever he sent his mind to (in his youth it was acting, and hence so seeing through lies and reading rooms (for improvisation, obviously) went with it). He set out to find you. Looked in all the usual places, and the unusual ones, in the big rooms and the small ones. 
In the last week or so you’d taken to spending time sitting in the walk-in-fridge. He worried about you a lot. While Dick still had school and his friends, and Bruce threw himself into Batman, you only really had yourself. It wasn’t healthy. 
But no matter how much he looked, or where he looked, you were nowhere to be found - not in the house, nor in the grounds. You’d said nothing about going out when he left, he would’ve remembered. In a last ditch effort to find you, he looked in one last place. 
But you hadn’t been in the Batcave since Jason came home. 
It was there, as he walked down a set of stairs, that he noticed a piece of paper haphazardly taped to one of the center computer monitors. 
He grabbed it, and flipped it open, reading quietly to himself the words inside, scrawled in your handwriting. 
‘Bruce, Don’t look, you know I won’t let you find me. I’m going to do something you will hate me for - probably forever. I can’t keep living like this knowing Jason’s killer is out there killing more mother’s sons. Take care of Dickie. Don’t take Alfred for granted.’
The older man found himself sinking into the chair beside him.
He had a hunch this was coming - he wasn’t in the cave the night Bruce brought Jason home, instead at the time he was upstairs taking a call from an excited Dick who was recalling his day spent doing a treasure hunt around Blüdhaven for a school camp trip that lasted the whole week. Alfred had no idea how you first reacted - he didn’t know how Bruce reacted to your reaction. 
He knew it wasn’t good. Especially since in your note you didn’t even say goodbye to your husband. 
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You’d been hiding in a place you knew Bruce wouldn’t ever look - he always hated visiting Metropolis, the city was too bright.  
You knew no one there would snitch on you - most didn’t even recognize you, and the one person who did, conveniently the man who was the closest thing Bruce had to a best friend, wouldn’t ever snitch on you. Not for this. 
‘I needed a break,’ you’d lied, ‘Couldn’t handle being in Gotham after…’ You never finished, and you knew Clark could see through a lie like glass - but the grief he could see. He could also see the anger simmering underneath. He never called you out for it though. 
You’d been there a while, waiting, watching Gotham from a distance Bruce wouldn’t see you from. You kept tabs mostly on Batman - although interviews with Bruce having to explain where his wife went were entertaining (in a sick, satisfying way). Sometimes you were sick, others you were out of town, most times you ‘weren’t feeling up to it’ - the latter two would be closest to the truth, not that he’d know that. 
You often looked fondly at whatever information came though about Dick - he took out the gymnastics first place for his age bracket in the Gotham state. The picture made your heart ache - his smile was wide and toothy, but even though your printed newspaper you could tell it wasn’t reaching his eyes. 
Who you were watching most, though, was the Joker. You combed through old reports and new ones. Even called up Harley Quinn a few times, just to get a perspective on him from someone who was - at one point - much closer to him. She asked you why you wanted to know. 
“I need to know.” 
“O-kay. And where exactly have you been Val?” she’d said, voice crackling down the hotel landline, “You ain’t locking yourself up in that Mansion are ya?” 
“No. I’m not in Gotham right now.” 
“So what’s even the Joker to ya if you ain’t even here huh?” 
“When I come back,” you said, “I’m going to kill him.” 
You became a Joker expert in almost one night.
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You got a late night visitor less than a week after that phone call. Clad in red and blue, with a gaudy cape and that stupid ringlet you and Bruce would always bitch about on late nights under bed covers. 
You were a little happy to see Clark - you actually had nothing against him, it was all just in jest (or solidarity because Bruce was your husband). He was let in pretty quickly. Mostly to avoid questions from the nosey couple who’d been staying in the room next to yours for the past three days. 
He stood around awkwardly while you watched him from the seat next to the room’s microwave, posture screaming Clark Kent, journalist, even though he looked like Superman, world-know superhero. 
“I’m, uh -” he started after you stared at him hard, wordlessly willing him to speak, “- I’m worried. I think you should go back to Gotham soon. To Bruce, specifically.” 
“And why’s that?” He looked at you like you’d just said you had Kryptonite in your pocket. 
“Because you’re in trouble.” 
“I’m here in Metropolis, I’m with you right now, I couldn’t be in less trouble if I tried.” 
“You know I have super hearing.” he said sheepishly. It was like he was telling his Ma he ran over her peonies with a bicycle. You put two and two together quickly though. 
“You’ve been spying on me?” 
“For me!” He said, stepping back with his palms towards the sky, “I feel better about not telling Bruce if I know what’s going on with you.” 
“And so what part of your spying brought you here tonight?” Both your arms and legs crossed, you could tell from his face he didn't mean for you to get so offensive so quickly. 
“You were talking to Harley Quinn?” 
“Oh that,” you scoffed with a wave of your hand, “Even Bruce does that. She’s not so bad. Taught me how to roller-skate you know.” 
“About the Joker?” 
“That happens often when my husband is being a pain in my ass,” you said, “Reminds me he could be much, much worse.” Clark motioned his head - ‘fair’, but then he returned serious once more. This time it wasn’t a question. 
“You said you were going to kill him.” 
You knew he couldn’t read your mind, but he could hear how your heartbeat picked up. He had to know you knew you’d been caught. He sat down on the edge of the bed, waiting for your answer in the most approachable way he knew in that moment. 
“I’d be doing everyone a favor.” 
“Bruce - I don’t know what he’d do. He could hate you.” 
“I’m sure he hates me right now anyway.” 
“You can’t believe that,” Clark said, looking up at you with blue eyes that almost looked like Bruce’s. “You don’t really believe he hates you right now?” You took a great interest in the patterned carpet. Clark said your name, and you reluctantly looked back at him. 
“He misses you.” 
“I miss my son.” You bit back at him bitterly. His face remained hard. This was suddenly no longer Clark. You were talking to Superman now. 
“I’m not sure how to say this kindly,” Clark said with a firm voice, “But you’re so focused on the child you lost that you’re abandoning the one that’s still here. Bruce misses you, but Dick misses you even more. He doesn’t need to lose another Mom.” 
His stare was hard, stubborn - he wasn’t going to let up. Your stare was hard too - sour and angry, not because you didn't believe him, but because you knew how right he was. 
“I think you can leave now.”
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Two weeks later, after a late night grocery run that consisted mostly of chicken noodle cups and instant coffee, you found a lump of black sitting in the dark with its back against the door of your room. 
Clark told Bruce. 
He didn’t seem to notice your approach, but once you stood toe-to-toe with his polished Oxford shoes, you kicked his leg. 
“Get up.” 
His head of messy hair lifted, and when his brain fully processed you - his wife, finally! - standing before him, he almost jumped to his feet. Uncharacteristic of him outside his prior - and now ditched - playboy persona. 
He breathed your name, stepping forward with hands outstretched as if to hug you. You took a step back. Clark, apparently hadn’t told him everything - if he had, he was taking it very, very well. 
“Where’s Dick?” 
“With Alfred,” he said, hands falling to his sides again after you hummed in acknowledgment. You both stood in silence for a while, before you gestured to a door with a full hand. He got the hint, stepping away, then taking the bags away from one hand as you fumbled for your keys. 
The quiet continued as you let yourselves in, you sat the shopping on the bench, and he made himself at home at the table near the door. You sat back down in the microwave chair, the furthest place from him you could be while still staying in the room. 
“Been keeping busy, Bruce?” you asked, he turned to fully face you in his seat. 
“Not really,” he said, “I’ve been looking for you. Never thought you’d be here,” You almost smiled, thinking about how right you were for coming here. Almost. 
“Heard you went to Saudi Arabia while I’ve been gone.” 
“It was nothing. Really.” 
“You couldn’t have been looking too hard if you were able to take a ‘nothing, really’ trip to the Arabian Mountains.” 
“I’m not here to fight with you,” Bruce said, resting a palm on his knee, “I’m here to ask you to come home. We all miss you.” his last words came out very quietly. “It’s been months. Nothings going to get easier if you stay away.” 
“Are you listening to yourself?” you said with a soft scoff, “He who literally spent every single night after Jason died away from home. He who spends every moment he can down in a dark damp cave rather than with his family - I don’t think you get to tell me where I should be.” You felt tears well in your eyes - hot and fat if they fell, but you willed yourself not to let them. Bruce’s shoulders softened, and he stood and walked closer slowly, coming to kneel before you with his fingers just touching yours. 
“We both haven’t been doing well, have we?” his head shook and his voice was barely audible. It was like he was speaking to himself. His admission - finally, his own pride and stubbornness aside, and it made yours disappear like dust in the wind. 
“You need to see my bathroom,” you said. His head cocked, a sly smile twitched onto his lips. 
“Oh?” he said, “And what might I find there?” But you weren’t smiling. You were trying to be honest.
“Just go look.” you said, turning away from him, bringing your hand away. Telling him with your actions that you weren’t going to be talking until he did. 
He stood, opening the bathroom door behind you and flicking on the light. You could feel how still he was. Taking in the room, and what was inside it. 
All across the mirror and walls were taped up newspaper clippings and photos and articles printed off from the library, old and new, a few of him - Batman - but most of the Joker. Beside the toilet was a case - one he knew would hold parts of a rifle (parts he'd seen you pull apart and put back together in a minute flat) - and across the sink were knives and gun magazines. 
Bruce stepped off the carpet and onto the tile. There was a little list in the center of the mirror, written in red and with the last line underlined.
‘Kill the Joker’. 
When he returned to you, he was holding the list in one hand. 
“When were you planning on doing this?” he asked. You weren’t able to meet his eyes when you answered. 
“Whenever I go back to Gotham.” His body went rigid beside you. Audibly, he let out a breath.
“I’ve thought about it too. Just getting rid of him like that.” he admitted, voice quiet and with a rough edge, “But I know it won’t help. It won’t bring him back.” 
“This isn’t about bringing him back. If I knew it could bring Jason back I’d have done it weeks ago.” You looked up at Bruce as you spoke, watching as his face crinkled in disbelief. 
“You’re so serious about this.” 
“How could you still think I’m not serious?” you said, standing to help convince yourself you weren’t as unsure as you felt. “I will do it. A time will come when that monster dies - wherever it is I will be standing by watching.” 
He watched you. Analyzing your face and the way your eyes moved. His face set like stone, hard and sure and you knew he was much more upset now having found out than what he was when you were missing. He took a step back. 
Bruce was moving towards the door. 
“I won’t stop you. I couldn’t bear to.” he turned, hand on the door handle, “But Batman still will.”
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As far as you knew, you’d made it back into Gotham City undetected. 
You knew the route’s Bruce - no - Batman, took while out on patrol. You knew the surveillance he constantly would check. You knew because for years you’d helped him do it all. 
Thankfully, you had a not-so-little little helper - Joker assassination aside, Harley was more than happy to put you up for a while. After you’d killed Joker you’d planned to turn tail and leave again - maybe hide someplace in Australia where no one barely goes. It wasn’t like you had to put up with her long anyway. 
Harley was great, but you’d have to love her a whole lot to live with her longer than a week. But you weren’t planning to stay that long. 
You’d tracked Joker to an apartment complex near Arkham - you knew he wouldn’t stay there forever, so you needed to act fast. 
Your weapons of choice were clean and ready to go, your escape routes A through to D were memorized, a hood and bandana combo were acquired to hide your identity long enough for no one around to know it was you. By all means and definitions you were ready to go. 
You left Harley’s place wordlessly. You were sure she didn’t even know you left. 
A cloak and the shadows of night concealed you from most passersby. Slowly, slowly you stalked towards where you knew the Joker to be. When you climbed the fire escape to find your vantage point, you almost didn’t make it all the way there because you saw Him. 
Sitting, lounging. Acting like there was not a single thing in the world to worry about. It made you so angry you could scream, claw your eyes out, you could do so many things all because that man couldn’t care less about your son dying. 
In fact, you didn’t make it to your original vantage point. 
You settled right there, three levels lower than planned, and took the rifle off your shoulder. Clipping on the scope, twisting the silencer on, packing the magazine in. Settled your body into a comfortable position, then raised the gun to look at your target through the scope. 
With greasy green hair and yellow teeth, you watched him smile through the crosshairs. With a sneer you flicked the safety off. You were ready to take the shot.
A flash of red, green and yellow came in front of the Joker. You frowned, confused. Pulling the scope back you looked again with a wider range and saw something that made your heart drop. Someone was tied up and presented to him like a present. 
The Joker had Robin. 
Your Robin. Your son. Your Dick Grayson. 
Suddenly this was more than just a chance to avenge Jason. A switch flicked inside your heart. This wasn’t a chance to avenge Jason anymore; this was you, saving the son you had left. This was you not giving that monster the chance to keep you in black. 
The lethal rifle was ditched right there on the fire escape, not caring if a lowlife found it before you could return. The knives you’d stashed - ‘just in case’ - were now your swords. Their piercing blades becoming the only thing shielding those who stood in your way a feral beating from bare fists. 
No one was standing in your way of taking Dick home safely. 
Your veins pumped white hot, you saw red all over. This was not going to happen a second time. It wasn’t ever going to happen again. 
A goon at the door stood in your way, he was met with a knee to the crotch and a wound to his shoulder to keep him down. More on the stairs were thrown over bannisters. One had his head smashed into the doorway of the Joker’s apartment. Another was given a hard elbow to the back of his neck. 
You weren’t aiming to kill - you were aiming to get them out of your way, and keep them that way. 
When you reached the room which window you saw through, there were only four other people aside from yourself, your son, and that murdering bastard. They all stayed quiet, goons waiting on a call to action from their boss. You missed the way Dick’s eyes widened as he realised his Mom was here. You were busy staring down the Joker, trying to make him feel just how much pure hate you had for him without a single word. 
“Give me Robin,” you said, voice low, venomous. Dangerous. 
“Well if you want him so bad, and since you asked nicely,” His smile spread wide and uncanny. “Come and get him.” 
So you did. 
Like a blur of back and blue, you had all four men either out cold or groaning on the floor. The Joker himself was under your kneeling form with his teeth now stained red and an eyes swollen shut. 
“Listen well because I’ll only say it once.” You said, your hand a rough fist in his hair to make sure he looked into your eyes and saw exactly how much of a threat your promise was. 
“I spared your life today. I will never do it again. I am not the Batman. The next time I find you trying to pull something with one of my Robin’s and you see me coming you'd better run the other way because I will kill you.”
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After untying Dick, retrieving your abandoned gear, and throwing Joker into Arkham, you reconvened with Dick on a nearby rooftop. 
You barely stood upright on two legs before he barreled into you, arms thrown around your waist with his face squished right into your collarbone. He’d grown taller in the time you’d been away. You felt tears fall as your arms wrapped around him in kind. 
“I’ve missed you Mom.” he mumbled into your shirt, “Please don’t go away again. Please.” 
A hand raised to the back of his head as you pressed your covered nose into his hair. You took a deep breath with your eyes closed, then opened them, peeling you both apart just enough to take in each other's faces. Even with his mask on you could see how much he was pleading with you to stay.
You brushed his hair away from his face - he needed a haircut soon. 
You wanted to stay, you never wanted to leave him ever again, not after tonight. But would Bruce let you? 
Out the corner of your eye you saw a black drop fall onto the rooftop a little ways off. Batman. He stood, tall and intimidating. In that moment you had half a mind to take a step back even though he made no move closer to you. 
Instead you just held Dick a little tighter. 
Bruce's hand reached out to you, palm open, outstretched, and empty. Waiting for you to take it. 
“I think we can go home now.” he said, “We all can.” Like that, Batman disappeared. Bruce was here. You guessed he bluffed - when it came to you Bruce was always there. 
Things were not going to go back to normal. They weren’t for a while. But the best thing you could do was stay together, all together. As a family. 
Nothing was going to push that away from you again. 
- And all those Ills which thou so long hast mourn'd;
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c-nstantine · 1 year
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Blurb #007
When Dick first met Batmom, he was apprehensive to say the least. At first he thought she was going to be another one of Bruce’s girlfriends that come and go as the please but then he realized she was in it for the long hall. “Please don’t break him. He likes to pretend that he’s tough and strong but he’s fragile,” Dick said to Y/N while she dropped him off at one of his extracurricular.
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I'm finally getting back into planning and working on One Bad Day..... My goal is to have Part 4 and at least one of the one-shots I have in mind posted by the end of October as part of Whumptober. However, that brings me to my question....
As an example, one specific one-shot I am considering at least partially in Bruce's POV is how he and Batmom met.
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radicallxser · 1 month
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pt 2 to this post, can be read as a standalone but makes more sense if you've read the first part. reader isn't wearing a suit but remains pretty androgynous (i think). also yes i included steph's baby fight me idc
not beta read pls don't make fun of me
Why had you agreed to this?
A coworker had invited you to a gala, something about representing the company. You weren't sure why you of all people were asked, or why the coworker, what's his name, was so insistint you attend with him. Especially after he ditched you the moment you both arrived.
You stand awkwardly, swirling the drink you had accepted earlier. A few straggling groups chatted nearby, gossiping about things you didn't care enough to pay attention to. You had better things to think about, like how were you getting home and when you could leave.
Even more important; how was the baby? Was she alright? The sitter you hired wasn't your usual one, but she had vanished without a trace and it was such short notice-
Something, someone, collided with yourself.
"I'm so sorry-" That's what you get for standing near the stairs!
You look up quickly, meeting the gaze of one of the boys you had met the other day. His lips twitch downwards, his eyes focused on the spot where your drink had collided with your clothing. Before you can react, he sets his suit jacket over your shoulders.
"I'm so sorry", he states quickly, opening his mouth to add something else before being cut off by you.
"It's alright, Jason."
His looks shocked for a moment, before his lips turn up into a grin.
"You remembered my name!" He speaks in a town that seems uncharacteristic for him. Pure delight coats his face and he opens his mouth again just to be cut off.
"Jay-Jay! Look what you did!" Another familiar face approaches, a grin adorning the young man's features. He slaps Jason on the back, then turns to you.
"Sorry about my brother." Your brows furrow at this.
"Brothers..?"
"Not by choice", Jason adds quickly, "Atleast, not our choice."
The urge to ask is immediately wiped away as another familiar face approaches, tailed by someone you hadn't met and who's attention was trained on their phone.
The shorter of the two, the one who you had encountered before, spoke up in a clear tone that didn't quite suit his age.
"Father says to quit harassing the guests, Richard, and he'd like to speak with you, Jason."
Jason rolled his eyes. The boy on his phone timidly glanced up, flashing a quick smile.
"Hello", he spoke, then looked back toward his phone.
The shortest of them stared at you, his expression indifferent.
"My name is Damian Wayne. I'd like to thank you for the other day." You smile softly at him, then the realization dons on you.
'Damian Wayne, as in Bruce Wayne's son...?' Your thoughts are yet again interrupted by a voice.
"Boys!"
His voice is clearer in real life, but unmistakably him. You turn, watching one Bruce Wayne approach your small group. His smile seems to light up the room.
He's more handsome in real life, slight crow's feets crinkling near his eyes when he laughs and a shock of gray through his hair.
His arm is looped with a young blonde woman, a baby only a bit older than your own settled in the crook of her other arm. They both smile, stopping in front of you and the boys. Jason's hand suddenly disappears from your shoulder and everyone seems to take a step back.
You smile politely, extending your hand to him.
He takes it, unlooping his arm with the gorgeous woman and bending to press a kiss to it. He feels a pang of anger when he feels the callouses and scars on your hands. Standing straight once again, he grins.
"It's a pleasure, Mx...", your eyes widen when he speaks your last name. How did...?
His eyes trail over your form, then scan the faces of the boys surrounding you. He shakes his head.
"I apologize for their lack of manners. Please, boys, introduce yourselves."
The blonde woman steps forward, smiling at you.
"I'm Stephanie", she adjusts the infant in her arms, taking your hand and giving it a tender squeeze.
You notice Jason taking up a spot directly behind you, standing over you, or atleast attempting to.
"We've been introduced", he speaks gruffly, more to his father than to you. This atmosphere suddenly becomes thick with tension, it makes you shift in unease.
Dick puts himself between Stephanie and Bruce, smiling sheepishly.
"It's Richard Grayson, everyone calls me Dick."
The boy that was previously on his phone snickers, Bruce shoots him a pointed look.
"It's Tim", the boy mutters, immediately piping back down.
Damian takes up the other other side of Bruce and you note thier similar features.
"Well, it's been wonderful meeting you all, but I should be leaving", You smile awkwardly, pulling Jason's jacket tighter around your shoulders.
"Let me treat you to dinner", Bruce speaks almost desperately, then clears his throat, "to make up for my sons' rudeness."
Suddenly you're sat in a limo, stuck between Jason and Bruce.
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battymommastuff · 3 months
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The Greatest Show
Batmom x Batman, Batmom x Batfamily
Prompt: While digging through the attic, Dick Grayson and Jason Todd uncover a secret about their adoptive mother. A secret that reveals the true, and dark story of the most loved couple in Gotham City
Part 1 Masterlist
(P/N): Performer Name
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!!DISCLAIMER!! - This likely won't be comic accurate (Obviously), but I did draw inspiration from the comics. If you are looking for something accurate, then this fanfic isn't for you.
The rumbling from the red and white tent could be felt from outside. The cheers of the crowd as Haly's circus put on what they felt would be their best show yet. Everything from the elephants standing on their back legs to the clowns hitting each other with bowling pins. You were peeking from the little opening that led backstage. Many of your fellow performers were either stretching in preparation for their performance, or were relaxing after theirs. You were currently waiting alongside your two closest friends, John and Mary Grayson. The acrobatic duo who recently combined their act with yours. The stakes were higher, but it left the crowd in complete awe. You were one of the fire eaters. You were a younger member of the circus, but had quickly become a fan favorite. 
You were beautiful, and highly skilled at your art. Swallowing fire like water, and twirling torches around without burning you or anyone else. The skill you possessed was outstanding, and Haly never let you forget that. He took you in when you needed help the most, and he made you a star. You would forever be in debt to him. 
"Are you ready, (Y/N)?" Mary asked, resting a hand on your shoulder. You jumped then turned towards her. She and John had just finished their stretches and decided to check on you. From the moment you arrived, they took you under their wing. Teaching you the do's and don'ts of the circus as well as giving you a place to sleep so you didn't have to bunk with the others in their crowded space. Though you quickly earned a little tent of your own after your spike in popularity. 
"Yes, I'm alright..." You said, with a small smile, "But what about you? Should you be performing in your condition?" You asked while looking down at Mary's stomach. She was currently one month pregnant, and the entire circus doted over her. Everyone was so excited to have a new member of their family. Whoever this kid was going to be, you just knew you would love them unconditionally. Mary reassured you for the millionth time that she would be alright before she and John were ushered up a small ladder that led to the top of the tent. You, on the other hand, were standing by the curtain, waiting for Haly to announce you. 
"And now...our next performance needs no introduction...you know them...you love them! The Flying Graysons! Featuring our star Fire eater (P/N)!" 
As soon as you heard your name, you ran out. Instantly lighting your torch and twirling it around while taking a sip of alcohol. You spat the liquid at the flame causing it to poof into the air as soon as Mary did a flip in the air and caught John's arms. 
Nothing could ever satisfy that rush in your heart. The thrill of the crowd's reaction to your tricks. The high it gave you was better than any drug. Here you were, twirling two flaming torches in your hand as you watched above you. John and Mary Grayson were flying through the air. No one knew who to watch first. The couple who seemed to defy gravity, or the woman who could eat fire. Even with them in the air and you on the ground, everyone could see the chemistry you had. It's why your combined act never failed. With a big smile, you leaned back while lowering one of the torches towards your mouth. The crowd watched in awe as the fire went into your mouth. You popped your head back up with the extinguished torch in your hand. Tossing it to one of the helpers, you lifted your now free arm in the air while twirling the other torch in your hand. 
John, swooping down picked you up and you were now in the air. An act practiced hundred of times. His legs holding onto the trapeze as you both circled around the tent, the torch never falling from your hand. 
Your act was truly amazing, and it seemed to catch the eye of a certain crowd member. Bruce Wayne. Growing up, he loved to visit the circus with his parents. After their death, he avoided anything to do with it. Now he was back, but under different circumstances. For a while he'd been investigating the circus. He recently found old notes left by his father. The Court of Owls. A secret society of the Gotham elite. Their goal is to rid the city of crime, by any means. He wasn't surprised to know that his father had come in contact with them, but was surprised to see the theory that Haly's circus was a front. The members were training to be potential Talon members. The Court's lethal assassins. The circus always seemed to favor Gotham. Their stop here would last weeks while other stops would last days. Most of their members were young, and always seemed to vanish from the show after a while. He was here to find out the truth, and put a stop to it. At least he hoped he could. It was difficult to fight a conspiracy that his father barely had proof on. 
Despite his goal, he couldn't bring himself to move from his spot. You were gorgeous. He had a genuine smile on his face while watching your act. He's seen fire eaters before, but something about felt different. You didn't seem corrupt or up to no good. You looked as if you truly loved what you were doing. Maybe he could recruit you? Having inside knowledge would be beneficial. 
Your act went on, and you left the circle with loud cheers. Your heart was racing so fast, it felt like you were going to have a heart attack. John and Mary arrived shortly after with large smiles of their own, "You did amazing!" You squealed while hugging them both. You were new to the acrobatic world, but had the best teachers in the world. 
After the show ended and everyone turned in for the night, you were sitting outside of your tent. Your throat is slightly irritated from the alcohol, but nothing too bad. Luckily tomorrow was an off day for the circus. You could rest a little before practice. It was a peaceful night, and you were happy to relax in it. At least until a deep and intimidating voice nearly scared the skin off of you. 
"(Y/N) (L/N)? We need to talk."
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TAGLIST
@maxinehufflepuffprincess @tayswhp @rainycloud858 @luna-zendra-star @starlets-things @simpfourmarvel @kawaistrawberry21 @js-favnanadoongi @kodzukenmaaa
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rheannaaaz · 2 years
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after a needed vacation and binging of Avatar the Last Air Bender , im proud to say I have a new series idea!
His Blaze - Bruce Wayne x Batmom!reader
JUST WAITTT I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS SERIES.
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the-daydreaming-show · 9 months
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❝baby mine, don't you cry❞ — Richard “Dick” Grayson
jason's version
The arrival of your first child and the chaotic energy he brings into your life (which is saying a lot, why chaos is a part of you). So imagine the gray hair you obtained thanks to your First Joy.
NOTE:
People forget that as Dick was a troublesome little sh*t and he still is. We love him but he is the chaotic son and @igotmessymind agrees with me!!!
This story is part or the BATMOM SCARLET WITCH UNIVERSE that i have create. I hope you enjoy!!!
𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.
WARNINGS: Dick's parents die; a boy who is very angry with the world; a very stressed new mother (you); Bruce is there, but that's not what this story is about, but he is a good father in this world.
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Technically, the first time you met Dick was directly after his parents died, but he wouldn't remember that until he was an adult. And you never counted that as your first interaction with your boy because of the tragedy of the whole scenario.
You and Bruce had gone to the circus that day in the subtlest way a Wayne could go anywhere. It was a date night, one that both of you had recently defined as mandatory every week. First so that Bruce could have a break, and second because that way you guys started spending time together somewhere other than the batcave. Something that, according to Alfred, you both desperately needed as a couple.
You two were in the front row when Mary and John Grayson plummeted to their deaths in the middle of their circus act, leaving a horrified ten-year-old Dick. The boy's scream was something that, even years later, if you closed your eyes, you could still hear with terrifying clarity. Once the tent was evacuated and the crime scene isolated by the GCPD, the newly promoted Captain Jim Gordon arrived and, before you left, he very subtly approached you and your husband. He asked you if you could do something for the child. The forensics team will arrive at any moment now, and they will have to uncover the bodies. Nobody couldn't get Dick to move or to react in any way, and Jim wanted to spare the boy seeing his parents like this more than he already had.
Jim had been aware of your and your husband's identities for a while, so the request didn't surprise you. To the contrary, you quickly agreed. He took you back to the tent. Dick had been lowered from the platform, but he remained curled up in a ball on the floor, next to where the bodies of his parents were covered in white sheets, which were turning redder from day to day. Little with each passing moment. You approached him, with the most delicate step possible, and placed a hand on his hundred, entering his mind gently and gently guiding his consciousness out of the shock of the situation. It was superficial magic that didn't get you into the boy's mind very much, just enough to help him and not force him. In a few seconds the boy's head snapped up, and you let Jim quickly take control of the situation, allowing one of his detectives to guide you back out of the closed area, then back to your husband. 
You had to help your husband out of his own shock that same night, forcing him to stay home and not go out as Batman, without accepting any complaints. Alfred helped, agreeing with the idea immediately. The death of the Grayson's in front of his own son was something that came very close to Bruce's heart, too many buried memories that arose uncontrollably.
The first official meeting that both of you remember is almost two weeks later. After you and Bruce had decided to take care of little Dick into your own hands. All because you find out how the boy kept sneaking out of the houses where the state put him at least once a day since that fateful night.
“Dick, this is my beautiful wife, y/n Wayne” Bruce introduced them both that day when the boy arrived with his suitcase and his eyes wide open, surprised by all the luxury that Wayne Manor represents. Smile at yourself and look briefly at your husband in reproach for his choice of words. He just shrugged, not at all sorry for his words. It's the truth. You ARE beautiful, and you are MY wife, he thought in his defence, knowing you would listen. You rolled your eyes and returned your attention to the child between the two of you.
“It's a pleasure, Mr. Wayne” The boy said suspiciously, but politely, not believing how good the situation looked for him and not trusting you or your husband at all.
“It's nice to meet you too, Dick” you told him, smiling sweetly “No need to be so formal, just call me y/n, it's fine”
Dick's mind couldn't stop thinking about how pretty you were. The way you were sweet in that first meeting was bittersweet for him, because he reminded him of his own mother, of that affection that she used to give him and that he would never receive from her anymore.
“Lunch is almost done” you tell him as you lean a little more towards Bruce for support, “Are you hungry?. Alfred prepared a buffet just to welcome you” you explained trying to push those thoughts away for now, you desperately wanted him to feel good and comfortable there.
“Alfred?” the boy asked, confused.
“Our butler” Bruce explained 
“He's more like family than anything” you clarified, “Like a grumpy grandpa who won't let you touch the stove without breathing over your shoulder” you teased a bit.
“Did he say my name, Mistress y/n?” said the aforementioned, coming from the kitchen and looking at you accusingly.
“No, not at all” you denied it and Dick couldn't help but smile a little at the mischief, to which you winked at him and offered your hand.
“Come on, let me show you the dining room” you invited him and the boy left your hand dangling for a moment, thinking about his next move. But, since you didn't stop smiling or offering him your hand, Dick decided to take it last, mainly because he was hungry.
Dick let you guide him, serve him food. He talked to you a bit during the meal until Bruce had to go to Wayne Enterprises for a meeting, then you showed him the mansion and his room. You promised him that you would go shopping this week to decorate it to his liking so that he would feel more comfortable.
During that week was the honeymoon phase.
The social worker you and Bruce had meetings with before Dick arrived explained about the phase. It's when everything seems perfect and the child shares his best manners. Either out of fear of how you would react. Or hoping to see how long your stay in the house would last, if it's worth getting used to or not. But the act would end sooner or later.
And it was exactly one week later (a Tuesday to be exact), the day after Dick started attending his new school, that the boy act ended and the adjustment phase officially began.
“This stage is the most difficult, so I need you to be prepared for it, especially in a case like Richard's” the social worker explained to both of you with seriousness. You had taken every word she gave you with like it was the bible, but at the end you still weren't ready when it started and everything that happened hit you like a truck.
You were in your studio in downtown Gotham, having a meeting with the designers who work with you and discussing that winter's new clothing collection for the brand. When Nina, your personal assistant, enters the office after timidly knocking on the door with a worried face.
“Mrs. Wayne” she called out to you, to which you look at her, smiling kindly upon seeing her “I know that you asked me not to bother you unless it was an emergency” she said, remembering what you had told her, you frowned immediately worried, because Nina was extremely effective and if she was there it was because it was genuinely an emergency “Gotham Academy is on call, it's about your son” she told you, and you immediately called off the meeting before leaving on the phone.
It turned out that not only had the school called, but GCPD had called Bruce around the same time.  Dick, your only ten-year-old boy, had run away from school and ended up being found in Crime Alley by an officer who recognised him from the news.  The officer in turn informed Jim Gordon, knowing the proximity to the Wayne's, and he gave the order to bring the boy to his office in the centre of the city, to then call your husband.  You never knew what god to thank for Dick that would have been found by one of the few good cops in Gotham, but you did anyway.
“What is he thinking?” you asked worriedly while talking on the phone with Bruce, already on your way to the police station, with Alfred driving, “Anything could have happened to him.  If he didn't want to go to school he could have said, he insisted on starting this week, I don't understand!-” you stopped, passing your hand over your eyes and sighing heavily.
“That was probably the point, love” Bruce said softly. “He wanted you to leave him at school and not think about the matter anymore.  It is likely that his plan would have always been to escape, surely he would have done the same yesterday if he had not been assigned a partner for his first day” he explained to you, his voice accompanied by the movement of papers on the desk in his own office.
The day before, which had been Dick's first day of school since the death of his parents, the school had assigned one of its older students to guide him on that day, so he had been watched all day. But that day had been different, and your son had gotten up in the bathroom in the middle of the first class, and had not returned to the classroom. So the school had called you when they realised the boy was missing.  And Jim had called Bruce shortly after when the patrolman found him. And Dick had taken a cab to Crime Alley, of all the places.
“He's safe, you need to calm down, love” Bruce continued, getting up from his desk, to walk up to the large windows in his office and look out over the city, as if he could see you from the top of Wayne Tower “We'll talk to him when he gets home, before dinner, but upsetting you like that won't help” he advised you, even though he was just as worried about what had happened.
“Alright, alright” you whispered while taking a deep breath.
At the door of the police station you were met by a uniform who was waiting for Jim's orders, who took you to the captain's office where, sitting with his head down and his arms crossed tightly across his chest, you found Dick. 
“Richard Grayson” you started in a stern tone, walking towards him and crouching down in front of him, to check that he wasn't hurt. “¿What were you thinking?¿Why do you think of getting in Crime Alley alone?” you asked calmly but firmly, looking at me as the boy avoided returning the gesture “Dick, look at me” you insisted, looking for his gaze, but the boy continued to refuse, almost tempted to close his eyes to make his denial clear. 
“Mrs. Wayne” Captain Gordon called to you from his desk, where he had been watching the interaction, and you quickly stood up to greet him.
“Jim, you don't know how much I appreciate you for this. I almost had a heart attack when the school called me to say that Dick was missing” you told him as you shook his hand. 
“Don't worry, your boy was just taking a walk, a bit of a dangerous adventure, but he came out without a scratch” he reassured you while looking at the crestfallen boy sitting next to you, and he did not miss the way your hand trembled slightly “Gomez” the officer who had brought you to the door looked at his boss ready to receive his order “Why don't you take little Dick to get something to eat from the vending machine down the hall?” and his question didn't need an answer. Dick left with Officer Gomez without saying a word, as you watched his back walk away through the glass in the office door.
“Y/n, please, sit down” Jim asked as he approached one of the chairs on the guest side of his desk, sitting down across from you immediately after you did.
“I'm sorry, I just-” You tried to apologise for how upset you were, but the man stopped you with an understanding smile.
“Don't worry, y/n. I was close to an aneurysm the first time my Barbs ran away from school” he told you trying to calm you down, to which you giggled at the thought of the adorable red-haired little girl who was the only daughter of the Gordon family.
“They start younger and younger” you plead, with a mixture of amusement and concern looking at the older man.
“Well this is Gotham, our kids have to grow up faster than others” he explained to you, while he served a glass of water from the jug that he had on his desk “Your butler had the same reaction when I found your husband walking in the same place years ago, shortly after the death of Thomas and Martha” he remembered, offering you the glass, which you accepted with anguish.
“God, he already acts like Bruce, and he hasn't even been with us for two weeks” you lamented, to which Jim couldn't help but chuckle a bit at your concern.
“Welcome to parenthood, your heart gets used to it sooner or later” he comforted you, running his hand down your back reassuringly.
Things got worse before they got better. Dick started running away not only from school, but from home, and he started yelling at you at unexpected times. There was no way for you to figure out what was making him mad because it was different what you did or didn't do every time he started his tantrum.
That was the case for more than two months after the first incident. Alfred told you that Bruce had been the same for a full year after his parents died. Bruce told you it wasn't your fault, despite what the kid was yelling at YOU all the time. But you could do more than feel guilty. You didn't want to fix things with your magic. When you retired you decided that your life could not be what you did with your power, it was more than just your power, and it was time to start accepting it, enjoying it. But you don't know how to help him without that power, either, at least not in a very deep way. So you did the only thing you could think of, you kept offering your hand to little Dickie, even though half the time he seemed to want to bite his hand.
It all came to a head one afternoon after you brought a very angry Dick to Wayne Manor from school. Gotham Academy had called you to talk after he tried to escape again. They informed you that maybe it was time for you and Bruce to look for another school for the boy, since his behaviour was not appropriate for the establishment.
“Dick, we need to talk” you called out to the boy, seeing him run towards the stairs as soon as you closed the front door. Alfred was shopping for dinner and Bruce was at League HQ, so you were the only one to argue with the kid that day “Dick Grayson, come back here, we're going to have a talk about this sooner or later” you said, going after the boy with a calm step, but Dick heard you coming and ran to his room at the moment he made the second floor of the house, slamming the door shut before you managed to finish climbing the stairs.
You sighed heavily as you stopped at the sound of the door slamming. You wanted desperately to go into the room and demand that the boy tell you what was bothering him so much, you wanted desperately to fix whatever was bothering him so much. But you knew you couldn't really fix the source of his problems, even if you had the magical potential to do so. You learned long ago that death is something even you must let take its course, for the sake of the very existence of the whole. You also didn't want to enter the boy's mind with magic, it wouldn't be fair to him to do that, so your options were limited at the end of the day. So you stood there, helpless.
You were having a hard time, not because you didn't want the task of taking care of Dick, but because it was a mixture of situations that seemed unfair to you. First the poor boy lost his parents together in front of his eyes, and he did so after the death of the Scarlet Witch, after you decided it was better to start a life without the chaos magic that characterised you. If the boy had crossed your path a couple of years earlier, neither Mary nor John had fallen to their deaths that day, you would have stopped it right there in that tent of the circus without much thought. But it hadn't been.
Although, you didn't need to read his mind to know one thing: Dick hated you. Totally and intensely. He had made it clear to you on more than one occasion.
And yes, he did. Dick hated everything about you. He hated the way you made his room look like the ideal in his mind of what he wanted. How you personally prepared his lunches for school. How you wore it and personally attracted you everywhere. How you smile with affection, how you patiently accept every insult and scream. I also hated how you tried so hard that he wouldn't notice that Bruce wasn't there much. Or how you always found him when he got lost in the halls. Also, when you brought him cookies and hot chocolate when he couldn't sleep, even though sugar didn't really help him sleep at all. He only made him happy for a while.
Why couldn't you be like the wicked stepmothers of the stories? 
It would be easier for him.
He hated the way you loved him, because it made him want his mom back, and it made him remember that she was gone, it made him want to accept you and Bruce as his family too. But he didn't need a new family. He necessitated his family, his parents, and his circus friends. He wanted his life back.
He hated you. He hated you. He hated you.
Dick curled up on the bed, with the blankets you personally picked out with him, which were Superman, and hid his head on the pillow. There he remained. At eleven years old, Dick had never been the type to be capricious or suspicious. His parents had always taken pride in saying that his son was very well-behaved and fit in wherever they went with the show. But now he just wanted to hate and never stop doing it, he didn't want anything else because the world was cruel, and it didn't deserve more than his hate. You didn't deserve more than that for being so good that it made him want to feel like before, and it pulled his mind to a better place every time you caressed his hair lovingly and made him feel at home.
That night, after eating the sandwich that Alfred had kindly given him when he refused to come down for dinner, he went to sleep without expecting you to come and say good night, as you had done since he arrived at the mansion. Usually, he didn't go to sleep easily, but his desire to avoid you overcame the fear of his nightmares, so he quickly fell asleep.
You arrived after he began to snore softly, already sunk in sleep. You entered, opening the door as quietly as possible, to see him spread out on his bed, with his pyjamas on, and the sheets almost falling off the bed due to his movements. Likewise, you couldn't help but feel the tenderness warm your heart, thinking to yourself that this should be a good step on the right path, because the boy hadn't slept well since he arrived at the mansion and since before, according to the reports of the social worker. So that he was sleeping at that time was good. You took victory silently and closed the door to the room, using the surface of your powers to close the curtains that let the moonlight into the room before walking away. 
You went down to the cave after that, where Bruce was getting ready to go out for the night.
“How is he?” he asked while putting on his gloves, as soon as he heard you walking out of the elevator.
“He's asleep” you told him with a big smile, happy for the small victory.
“Really?” Bruce asked, pleasantly surprised.
“Yes” you answer, reaching her side, unable to contain the smile of happiness, for that reason “I know it's not much considering what happened today-” you started, but your husband stopped you by placing his hands on your cheeks affectionately.
“It's a good thing” he assured you, smiling at you, and you kissed his lips lightly “We still need to talk to him tomorrow though” Bruce said, gently breaking your bubble, to which you sighed.
“If it makes you feel any better, Mistress y/n” Alfred began from the chair in front of the batcomputer “I could make you a list of the number of private schools Master Bruce was expelled from before he finally calmed down” he offered to what Bruce rolled his eyes in amusement “It's including Gotham Academy, of course” he clarified with amusement.
The night passed as normally as it could. But around one in the morning you went upstairs to check on Dick, as you always did at night when you stayed in the cave. It was the third time you'd checked, and he'd been fine the first two times, having started snoring louder on each visit.
So you expected to hear the boy snoring when you reached the hallway of his room, instead, you were met with crying. You stopped in place for a moment, because it was the first time you had heard Dick cry since he had arrived at the mansion.
“Mama” the boy cried, half awake and half asleep, “Mama” kept calling between sobs that shook her little body violently.
The most instinctive part of you walked quickly towards the door with a soft step, but the same logic made you stop at the door before even touching the handle, apart from that he told you that the boy was calling for his mom, for Mary. Not for you, he didn't want you. And for a moment you decided that you would not go in, and we let him cry all he needed, and tomorrow you would try to get him to talk about it. It might be a good time to suggest therapy. Yes, that was the best option and the best way to handle the situation.
“Mom, mom” you heard. Now fully awake, Dick continued to sob with his broken heart, and he broke yours with the sound of his cracking voice. So the institute won.
You walked into the room ready to be yelled at almost immediately. But you did it anyway, sure-footed and ready to do whatever it took to make your precious boy stop suffering once and for all. You knew that that would never leave him, but you would still try.
“Dickie, baby” you said as you approached the bed, to sit on the edge of the mattress next to him, running a hand over his back as he continued to cry and sobbed loudly “My joy, it's okay, you're-” and then the force of the child colliding with your chest stopped you.
In the time Dick had been there, he had never allowed you or Bruce or Alfred to get any closer than to hold his hand or stroke his hair. So when the boy threw himself at you crying and hugging your waist as if his life depended on it, he surprised you. He was hugging you as if he was afraid that you would disappear from one second to the next (theoretically you could do that, it was part of your powers, but that wasn't what the boy was afraid of). He sobbed into your chest as his knuckles turned white from clinging to you.
“It's okay, my joy” you comforted him, hugging him back and kissing his hair “Everything will be alright” you promised him, not quite sure what else to say to make him feel better and hugging him tighter to match his strength, so he would understand that you won't be leaving soon
“I want my mum” the boy sobbed, not with an internal intention to hurt you, but as if asking you to do something. You were an adult, you could fix anything, that's what adults do, and the ten-year-old was practically begging you desperately for a solution as he felt.
“Oh, I know, Dickie. I know” you said hugging him tighter “I'm so sorry, baby” you apologised, feeling bad for having no more than words to handle the situation, knowing that nothing will bring that child back to his parents, no matter how much you want to make it happen for him.
You would do anything for that boy. You would destroy yourself, and you would build yourself up again. Not only that, but you would empty out entire universes and kill God himself if necessary. But for now, you just held him while he cried, while he called out to a mother who lay twenty feet under. You knew, at that moment, that there would never be anything you wouldn't do for that boy. And Dick decided that night that maybe you weren't so bad.
Dick Grayson couldn't believe he was standing in the Batcave. He also couldn't believe his adoptive father was Batman. Now he understood why he was always missing for so long, it wasn't that Bruce was ignoring him, it was that he was down there, being a hero for Gotham City. His mind was racing as he walked around the place asking your husband questions and inspecting every nook, artefact, and blemish he found in the place. You and Bruce watched him from a distance, grinning like fools at the uncontrollable excitement of the boy who had long felt like he was your own.
“This is AMAZING” Dick would say whenever something particularly struck him, which means he said it every few seconds.
“See, he told you he would be excited” you told your husband while you took his hand, he smiled at you and brought your clasped hands to his lips to kiss your knuckles affectionately. A silent way of telling you: You were right, love.
“WOW” exclaimed the boy, he was now standing on the platform where the different suits that your husband had used as Batman are displayed “With all due respect, Bruce, but it's good that you left behind the combination of purple and yellow, it was too much” the boy scoffed, pointing at the first suit on display behind him.
“It was the eighties” your husband defended himself with a grimace, rolling his eyes at how similar the comment was to the one you had made the first time you set foot in the cave several years ago. You just laughed as you looked at him, happily remembering that moment.
“Purple looks amazing on you, my love” you assured him, caressing his cheek with your free hand. “Very intimidating” you said, to which both you and Dick chuckled, while Bruce continued to regret his fashion decisions.
“I tried to talk him out of it, Master Dick” Alfred commented, joining the bandwagon of teasing Bruce about his old fashion decisions. “But he insisted,” he shrugged gracefully.
“Okay, I'm going to throw him out of my cave if you don't leave my purple suit alone” Bruce complained, to which you and Dick shared an amused look before the boy returned his attention to the suits on display. Alfred smiled as he watched you kiss your husband in compensation, earning me a goofy smile from him, the one the butler had seen a lot since you two got married.
“HOLY SHIT” Dick suddenly exclaimed, to which you and Bruce turned to look at him wearing it, your husband ready to spring into action at your son's exclamation “You've got the Scarlet Witch suit here!!” the boy exclaimed excitedly, looking at your husband in disbelief before running to stand in front of the glass where your old suit is on display. Well, the word suit was an understatement, because it was a red bodysuit, with a belt, the cape, and high boots. An outfit that was not the best choice for fighting, but you never question it too much, because you were always comfortable in yourself and in that outfit, too.
Bruce and you shared a look. It was time to drop the second bomb on the boy. Now you were the one worried about her reaction.
“How did you get it?” Dick asked excitedly, his nose glued to the glass, pawing it with his breath “I thought the Justice League couldn't get her body back from the Dimension of the Damned after she closed the portal to save us” he said, thinking aloud, while analysing the garment.
Up close, he could see the details of the fabric, the way the cloak had a texture and wasn't smooth as it seemed watching it from the television. It was as if magic was embedded in the fabric, and it moved even when she was still on the mannequin. The boy was fascinated, definitely marking this as the best day of his life.
“Well that's true. The League was unable to recover her body after she closed the portal” explained Bruce, as he hugged your waist, pressing his fingers against you at the memory of those events that still haunt him “But the suit is here for its protection, nothing more, it still belongs to its owner” Bruce finished, letting the boy think a little about his words.
“Wait,” Dick said, frowning and turning away from the video, to walk to the railing of the platform. And how do you have it, if she never left the Dimension of the Damned?” the boy frowned, thinking hard that how could it be that this was the original costume.
“It's more like early retirement than death” Dick jumped in place when you appeared next to him, speaking sweetly to him “But yes, the Scarlet Witch never made it out of the Dimension of the Damned” you explained to him, while you crouch in front of him, the boy turned to face you still confused by what he was saying “Dick, do you remember that we told you that we had to tell you a couple of things?” you asked him and the boy quickly nodded “Well first we wanted to tell you that Bruce is Batman, as you already deduced” you pointed to your husband on the lowest platform “And the other one is that I'm-” Before you could say more, Dick squealed with excitement again.
“YOU ARE THE SCARLET WITCH, HOLY FUCK!!” the boy yelled with his eyes as wide as his eyelids would allow.
“Language, Master Dick” Alfred scolded absently from below.
“OH-MY-GOD” The boy yelled again, looking at me as if you were hanging the stars from the sky, throwing himself on you, hugging you with his arms around your neck “I knew you weren't dead, I argued every day with my friends about this, it didn't make sense for YOU to die just like that, no amount of spawn could kill the Scarlet Witch, it's absurd-” The boy began to ramble as you picked him up in your arms, he hug your hips with his legs intuitively, and you walked down with him in your arms. Smiling softly at the boy's excitement, it was Bruce's turn to give you the Told you so look “This is the BEST day of my life” Dick finished his ramblings as you pulled up next to Bruce, with him still sitting on your hip, and proceeded to grab your husband's neck and hug you both tight. The pull made your husband laugh at the boy's sudden outburst. “My parents are the coolest people on the planet next to Superman, this is the best” the boy declared proudly, ignoring the surprised looks you and Bruce shared immediately after that.
It was the first time his parents had called you, and Dick didn't even think about it much longer, it came out of him so naturally that you two didn't say anything else either. You were mom after that and Bruce was dad, as if the boy had forgotten how to say his name from one moment to the next. And he did it with the greatest happiness in the world.
That night, after Bruce went out on patrol, and you dragged a still very excited Dick to bed, as you tucked him into bed, tucking the covers over him, your son's face suddenly scrunched up at a particular thought.
“What's up, Dikie?” you asked, as you ran your hand over her forehead, concerned at the sudden change in expression.
“Weren't Batman and the Scarlet Witch supposed to hate each other?” he asked you confused, looking down with his head tilted from his pillow.
You laughed, relieved and amused by the question.
“That, my boy, is a story for another day”
And that was it.
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mischieveousmayhem · 8 days
Note
continuation of the series "Mom, we miss you", Bruce's point of view without his wife
My love, I failed
Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Batmom! Reader
Genre: Angst
Warnings: Mention of death (obviously), Bruce ooc
Synopsis: Bruce took a chance to love again. Only to lose her.
A/N: okay a few things, thank you for all the requests ima work on them asap. second of all , back by popular demand we're gonna do Bruce. Third, I did Bruces differently;). Lastly, I might do Alfred too cuz like he's part of the fam too 🤭 anyways enjoy
THE MASTERLIST
"Dear Y/N,
I only want to talk to you, so here I am. You're gone and I realize that. But I miss you so much and can't accept your death. I know you wouldn't want to see me like this, I know you would want me to be strong but I simply can't because you were my strength.
I have not seen the boys in months after your funeral, only one I've seen is Jason and that is because sometimes I will sit out here with him.
I call myself Batman and claim to be a hero. But you were more of hero then I am. You even had your own power. The power of love.
When you first came into my life, I didn't except us to adopt so many kids together or have Damian around. Hell, I didn't even expect us to ever get married. You used that power of love and casted a spell on me.
For all these years you have dealt with me, and I don't know how or why. I know I was a little bit rude to you sometimes but you still dealt with it even when I hurt you. When I got in that bad mood, you always found a way to bring me down to feel like myself again.
As for the boys, they each had their own flaws when they first came into our lives. But to you their flaws made you try even harder to show them you loved them. However, I will never understand how you get the boys to cling onto you like they did. Maybe you just showed them the mother's love they were missing in their life. Hell, you even showed me mother's love, and you are my damn wife.
But my darling, I never got to apologize to you properly. Out of all the times I should've, you came and apologized like it was your fault. I never even said I forgave you most times, because most times it wasn't your fault.
I'm sorry for how I was towards you most of the time. Especially when you were upset about me putting myself and the boys in danger. I realize how bad it was. I apologize for all the times I broke your heart, and didn't help you put it back together.
But last of all, I'm sorry for sleeping with Talia while you were gone that one time. I don't understand myself why you stayed. I know that caused you so much pain and it ate at you when you found out Damian is my biological son.
For going through all this you are proven to be the strongest person I will have ever known.
My love, I failed you. I have said this when it's too late but I hope you're watching me and listening, because I want you to know I'm sorry.
Your pain and suffering has ended. Your long with your mental health is over. You were super strong , and thats why you are The Batmom.
I love and miss you,
Bruce Wayne."
He was crying the whole time he read that to your grave. Which secretly had nothing in it.
Why?
The public visits your grave and Bruce knew they would. But all of your boys had some of your ashes. Tim, had the most.
Bruce had a locket with your wedding picture on it and inside some of your ashes, which he clutched and his tears fell and he read the letter he wrote.
There he sat, underneath the cherry blossom tree at 2:45am, at your grave. His apology unheard by others but hopefully heard by you, Batmom.
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Note
Okay so I Have a Bruce Wayne/Batman request! It’s okay if you can’t do it, but Bruce Wayne X Reader (Mr and Mrs Wayne) and She’s a doctor at a hospital in Gotham, and she sees him come with something wrong after an incident and she helps him? You can take the story however you want but I thought it would be a cute story haha
Taking a Tumble
Bruce Wayne x wife!reader
Bruce has an accident at home and now has to face his wife at work.
Warnings: broken bones, humiliation, Alfred needed a good laugh, fluff
WC: 1k
A/N: The aftermath of this comic
Minors DNI
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“What did you do this time?” Her voice was even stern, just laced with a tired disappointment. Bruce’s entire face was red with embarrassment as his blue eyes dropped to the floor. He felt like one of their many children being scolded for doing something stupid, which of course is why he was in this situation, but still, it wasn’t a good feeling.
“I didn’t do anything.” But the lack of eye contact told her otherwise. Alfred stood beside the white hospital bed, tears running down his face from laughter, his body still trembling with silent chuckles that were barely contained by the fist in his mouth. Y/N’s gaze flitted to the older man and raised an eyebrow.
“M-master Bruce had a tumble.” He choked out before dissolving into a fresh round of laughter. Bruce’s face flushed an even deeper red. 
Marrying Bruce came with a boat load of risks, including him getting mortally wounded during his nightly escapades. So what luck was it that his childhood friend, and now wife, had gone to medical school and was now one of the leading doctors in Gotham General Hospital. He always wore his injuries with a certain pride, knowing he was sacrificing his body for a greater good. 
But this time, he refused to look down at his bandaged left leg and instead was glaring at his father-figure. Y/N knew that look, he was trying to communicate with the butler not to tell her what had happened, it was the same look he used on their kids when they were about to reveal a surprise or a shameful secret. “Bruce doesn’t just ‘tumble’.” She said with air quotes, tucking her tablet under her soft arm so she could fold them over her heavy chest.
“But I did.” He whined. Alfred spluttered and coughed. He bent over, wheezing as he attempted to catch his breath as he shoved his phone into her hands. He was still giggling to himself as he stumbled from the room. They watched him go, Bruce’s expression one of disdain while his wife’s was one of curiosity.
A paused video took up the phone’s screen. Based on the still image, it was the home security camera by the main stairs in their home. “Do you have anything to say before I play this video?” She asked. “I won’t be mad.” Bruce hated that she was using the same tone with him that she used with the kids, but he also found it strangely comforting.
“I was proving a point to myself.” He huffed and sat back against the pitiful hospital pillows. Y/N smiled softly at the man, thinking to herself. ‘God I love his, dumbass.’ Then she played the video.
She watched as the man she had chosen to spend her life with, the father of her children, the love of her life, rode down the length of the grand hallway on his old skateboard from when they were teenagers and did a perfect kickflip and dismount the board. Then, the great Batman, tripped over his own feet and rolled down the staircase. That’s when the video ended.
The room was silent for a moment before Y/N howled with laughter, her head thrown back and clutching her plump stomach. Bruce’s lips turned up in a grin at his wife’s happiness before they fell into a petulant frown. “It’s not that funny.” That made her laugh even harder and she had to put her hand down on his bed to steady herself.
“What were you thinking, my love?” She said between gasps.
He threw his arms in the air. “I told you! To prove a point!”
“And what point was that?” Her laughs were tampering off into the occasional giggle, her eyes, that Bruce loved so much, still sparkled with mirth. She reached to take his large hand in her own but he pulled it away before she could, pouting.
“That I’ve still got it.”
“Oh my Brucie.” She cooed, cupping his square jaw and delicately rubbing his high cheekbones with her thumbs. “You never lost it my love. In fact.” She leaned closer to him so her lips rested against his ear. “I’d say you’ve only gotten better with age~” 
Taking his ear lobe between her teeth, she pulled on it just enough to send a shiver down the billionaire’s spine. As she pulled away, she caught his eye, they were dark with lust and love. His hands slid up her scrubs to come to rest on her wide hips, giving them a tight squeeze. Evidently, he seemed to like that answer.
Their lips met in a kiss that was all too brief for his taste before she pulled away, wiping a smear of her lip gloss from his mouth. “Now my love, I need you to stay off that foot for a while and rest up. That means no patrol.” She stated firmly, ignoring his truly adorable puppy dog eyes. “I’m not putting you on complete bed rest because we all know how that went last time.”
He had attempted several escape attempts from bedrest before and had only succeeded in giving his wife the most atrocious tension headaches of her life. “I’ll need some incentive.” His voice dropped an octave, becoming gravely and rough, almost a growl. His warm palms traveled lower down her body to the junction of her pelvis and plump thighs, the tips of his long fingers digging into the soft flesh of her ass.
Y/N purred and leaned into his touch, still mindful that she was at work. “I’m sure I can provide you with that.” The kiss was longer this time, their lips locked together with an ease that only came from years of knowing the other’s body and soul. She stepped back with one last peck to the tip of his sharp nose. “I’ll go grab your discharge papers so you can go home. I’ll see you after my shift.”
He sighed sadly but nodded anyway. “Ok, I guess I’ll just be home, alone in our big bed, all by myself.”
“You aren’t guilting me into leaving work early. At least one of us has to have a real job.” Y/N pried his fingers from her body and picked up her tablet again, leaving Alfred’s phone on the side table. “Oh and don’t forget to delete that footage, you know what the kids could do with that kind of blackmail material.”
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