#Hurt Batfamily

[morgansunflower]

Let Me

Warnings:suggestive content, explicit language

Words:1453

Requested taglist:@too-strong-to-lose

Arthur's notes! Third P. O. V

Jason is under Ivy's control and hurts those he loves.

Jason let's out a loud yell punching his fist into the wall. His breaths were heavy but not as heavy as his heart. He was free of her control. His eyes change from bright green back to his natural blue color. He sees the bruising form on Y/N's arm. He looks at his hands seeing the pistol. He throws it to the ground, horrified with himself.

"Jason" she slowly stepped to him "are you ok?"

He felt like a monster, that he had snapped like he always feared he would "st-stay away from me"

"Jason you didn't hurt me, Ivy did. It wasn't really you, you could never hurt me, hurt us"

He looks at her angel like eyes, but how could he ever think of even looking at her after what he did to her. He fought the control though not everyone made it out ok. He sees Grayson holding the bullet wound on his shoulder. Cassandra was fine, of course. Damian was pretty beaten up with a few bruises. Stephanie had a black eye and many bruises. Tim had his arm cut deeply from Jason's knife. Duke thankfully was sound asleep at home. Bruce was fine like Cassandra. His body feels heavy as he forces himself to stay standing. Each altercations were brutal with each of them, but he shaked with every shot or blow. He looks back at Y/N. His love. He couldn't touch her. He takes a deep breath.

"Little-Wing it's--" he quickly prevented his older brother from speaking

"shut up Dick!!"

"Jason please listen to me. This wasn't your fault, it's OK. You're not a monster..." she reaches to touch his face. Her touch felt too perfect.

He steps back further away from her, he carefully moved her hand away from him "don't touch me! I Fucking.. I Fucking fucked up o-okay. Just stay the hell away from me" he coldy said turning away

"son" Bruce pleaded

Jason continues to walk away from them. Y/N steps to comfort him but Bruce stops her.

"give him time" he encourages

-"Jason go back to her, what are you doing? You have to go back to her" Oracle said to him

"I don't deserve anything Barb" he brokenly said cutting off his com off

It was 3 horrible days later Jason eats his fry and swallows hardly eternally breaking. He remained quiet as Alfred eyes his grandson with genuine worry. Y/N had been calling him for days even his siblings. He won't talk to anyone but Alfred, still consumed with guilt that he hurt them.

"you were under another person's control. You had no true intentions to hurt your loved ones" Alfred said, trying to reassure that he's still his grandson. That he's still apart of the family.

"..but I did"

"they do not see it that way, they love you. Y/N is truly heartbroken over the situation. She truly desires to be with you" Alfred pleaded.

That night. Y/N wakes from her sleep hearing something in the kitchen. She takes her batarang and hides it behind her back. She walks into her kitchen dropping the weapon as she sees who's there.

"Jason?" her heart warms.

"ha-hey.. I da--I didn't mean to.. I didn't want to wake you up" his voice shaky, this was so hard.

She didn't bother asking why he's snuck into her house, she's just worried he's not ok.. She knows he's not. If he was he would've called ahead. He needed to see her fave that brought him peace. To hear her voice that melted the pain. He wanted to confide in her. He gripped the kitchen island his heart racing. She was really beautiful in that f/c sleepwear. He never felt as good with someone else. She was incredible.

"are you ok?"

"I'm trying to get there.." she walks closer to him "look.. This is really hard to say.. I.. I've been lying to myself about being ok for a long time" he confessed letting out a deep breath. "lying to you that I've been ok these past few days.. the times we were together have really helped me heal.. I don't really do shit on my own well, I don't want to be alone"

She touches his face "you're worthy of love Jay. I will remind you that every single day. I want to be here for you, just like you are there for me"

He let's out a heartfelt sigh as his worry leaves his heart. He leans down to kiss her and wraps his arms around her waist. They made their way to her bedroom both holding each other. In her arms Jason never felt more safe and loved. He was finally going to sleep well. 3 weeks later Christmas day. Jason and Y/N walk with their arms locked up the steps to Wayne Manor. She had given him his gift already. It was his favorite first book when he was Robin. He told her he was saving his gift for later. She was a little worried he must have forgotten to get her anything or couldn't figure out what to get her. He hasn't seen the family since what had happened. His girlfriend had been trying to encourage him to see them but he was too nervous. Now he didn't exactly have a choice.

"it's OK, you'll always be apart of this family" she encourages

"I know.. I just.. I feel like I failed them. They must think of me as a mon--" she stopped him by kissing his lips, she wouldn't allow him to think such a horrible thing.

"they know how much you care. You are a good man Jason. I'm proud of you and I love you"

With her, he grew into a better person. He felt whole. The more he thought how deeply he loves her, the more emotional he became. He opened the door. Thru are instantly greeted by the family. Stephanie ran hugging her big brother. Cassandra hugged Jason with her feet off the ground. He was like a giant teddy bear. Jason was, taken aback by his sisters kindness. Y/N softly smiled her heart warming. Bruce was grateful this Christmas includes all his children. Jason sat in Bruce's study trying to imagine the best way to ask her. He reaches in his pocket taking her present. He loves her so much. He wanted to marry her. If they had a baby? That'd be pretty great too.

"son?" Bruce said surprised to see what he was doing.

Jason panicked and quickly placed it back into his pocket. He stands to his feet looking to his Dad.

"hey B.. Alfred finally done with the dinner? You know I've been waiting for hours" he awkwardly asked.

Bruce softly smiled "I didn't see anything" he lied

Jason walked into the kitchen Y/N reached to hug him. He holds her tightly. He couldn't wait another second.

"want to go do those cheesey ass pics?"

"yes! Thanks, I know you hate doing pictures but I just love the to remember the moment"

Jason had to bite his lip, the fact that he chose Christmas was cheesy enough. This certainly will be a moment to remember. He asked Cass to help because anyone else would freak out and wouldn't shut up. They did a few cute and funny poses. Cassandra continued to click the button getting adorable photos of them. Jason gives Y/N a blindfold

"what are you doing?" she asked with her eyebrow crooked

"just trust me" he pleads

"ok" she sighs a little nervous.

He puts the blindfold on her. He walks to Cass showing her the present. Cass softly gasped and hugged her brother to congratulate him. He walks to get into position. Back inside the Manor Steph looks out the window. She screams so loudly everyone within the Manor heard. They all run to her in worry but are instantly relieved to see she's OK. She stutters jumping up and down while pointing out the window.

"Jason's proposing to Y/N! JASON'S PROPOSING TO Y/N! Aww, is he crying?!" Stephanie exclaimed.

Y/N takes the blindfold off and screeched in shock. She takes a deep breath trying not to cry. She feels tears fall down her face as he smiled up to her. While on his knee he couldn't help getting emotional. Cassandra was even getting emotional from the beautiful moment.

"Y/N.. Will you marry me?"

She nods repeatedly overwhelmed "yes!"

He quickly places it on her finger and lifts her off her feet. He kisses her deeply. He yelled out excitement while spinning her around. He looks up to the Manor seeing his family celebrating.

#Jason Todd X Reader #Jason Todd #batfamily #dick grayson #Bruce Wayne #Damian Wayne #Duke Thomas #Stephanie brown #Tim Drake #Cassandra cain #Barbara gordon #Alfred Pennyworth #Angst #heavy hurt #Hurt Batfamily #Fear #Crying #fluff

[iriswords]

Febuwhump Day 26 - Forced to choose

You can also read this on ao3 and find the rest of my febuwhump fics here

tw: torture, mentions of pit madness, mentions of child trafficking and child prostitution as well as adult trafficking and prostitution, implied fear of sexual assault, watching a loved one being tortured, implied child sexual assault

Fandom: Batman

Words: 4166

“Familial love,” Mask said to himself. “Such a nice thing to play with. I will never get tired of it.”

In a few days, he would be rid of the most important of the Bats. There would still be a few left to take care of, including the terrifying Black Bat, but Mask’s shoulders would be lifted from a hefty burden just by taking down these five Bats. But first, he got to have some fun.

--

It took five henchmen to pin Batman to the floor and effectively handcuff him. Several dozens lay unconscious on the floor, but Mask had expected the Bats’ skills and had hired nearly sixty henchmen, taking care to mention that no injury sustained during the job would be a source of financial compensation. Paying henchmen to get their injuries treated was one sure way to lose money, and Mask had only made the mistake twice before adding a new clause to his contracts. And if henchmen protested, he had no qualms about killing them. 

Mask watched contentedly as his men dragged Batman out of the room and reported his attention to the three other vigilantes struggling against his men. Red Robin and Robin were already cuffed, but Nightwing was posing more problems, even though no less than six men restrained him. One thing Mask had learned and his men never listened to was that Nightwing, despite his cheer, was a strong and slippery bastard, skilled enough to take Batman in a fight if so he wished. But Mask had anticipated all those struggles, and the vigilantes could not escape him now. Not if they wanted their brother to survive. 

Mask turned to the Red Hood, who was tied to a chair next to him. He was still unconscious, blood slowly rolling down his temple from the wound that had gotten him captured. He was blissfully ignorant of the half-dozen guns aimed at him. His brothers, who had foolishly come to rescue him and fallen into Mask’s trap, were less so. It had been stupidly easy to get them to surrender once he had threatened to blow out the Red Hood’s brain in front of them. 

“Familial love,” he said to himself. “Such a nice thing to play with. I will never get tired of it.” 

In a few days, he would be rid of the most important of the Bats. There would still be a few left to take care of, including the terrifying Black Bat, but Mask’s shoulders would be lifted from a hefty burden just by taking down these five Bats. But first, he got to have some fun. 

“Wakey, wakey, birdie,” said a voice, and Jason’s breath caught in his chest, his lungs seizing with panic. The last person who had called him ‘birdie’ had been the Joker. That was not the Joker’s voice, but Jason knew that was no proof.

 Jason woke to icy water being thrown at him. He flinched back instinctively and slammed his head against a hard surface. 

Spluttering and dreading what he would see, Jason opened his eyes. The light accentuated the throbbing in his skull, but Jason didn’t care about the pain. In front of him stood a man wearing a familiar mask. Jason’s lips pulled into a snarl as he took in his long-time enemy. He tried to take a step forward, but iron cuffed encased his wrists and ankles and kept him chained to the wall. 

“I’m honored you’ve decided to join us,” commented Mask.

“Fuck you,” replied Jason and took in the rest of the room. Beyond Mask, similarly chained, stood Batman. His cowl had been taken off, but the domino he wore underneath was still on and covered his eyes. Nevertheless, the rest of his face was tight with anger. Jason wasn’t certain if Mask was its only recipient or if Jason, too, had messed up. 

Mask took a step forward, and Jason’s body tensed in anticipation. Roman Sionis was a dangerous and vindictive man. Jason had been very careful not to let himself be caught by him until now; he knew what the man would do to him. 

Sionis’s long fingers curled under Jason’s chin and forced him to look up. Fear coiled tight in Jason’s stomach. He knew Mask well, knew of his crimes and his traffic. As a child, when he lived in the streets, he was terrified of being caught by one of Sionis’s men. He has been aware of what happened to children, and what kind of work they were forced to do. Since coming back to Gotham as the Red Hood, Jason had done his best to eradicate the man’s operations and save children from his clutches. He had thought himself relatively safe from the man. The leer in Mask’s eyes told Jason otherwise, and old panic clogged his throat. 

The rattle of chains made Mask turn his gaze away from Jason. A second later, he dropped his hand from Jason’s chin, and Jason exhaled shakily. Only then did he notice the source of the noise. To his left, on the far end of the wall, Nightwing strained against his chains, his features twisted by protective wrath. In between Jason and Dick stood Damian and Tim, also bound. 

They had been captured. Jason first, and Mask had used him as bait. Whatever happened from now on would be Jason’s fault. For all of his bravado and rebuttal, Jason did not want to see his family be hurt, much less because of him. The Pit had long since faded to the back of his mind, barely present, and all the murder urges it had caused him had disappeared along with it. 

“Is there something wrong?” Mask asked a gagged Nightwing. Amusement played on his lips. “It is so good to see you all chained like that, at my utter mercy.” Mercy Jason knew he would not have. Not for anyone, but certainly not for them. “You have been a thorn in my side for too long.” He turned back to Jason and fisted his hand in Jason’s hair. “You, especially. Always countering my plans and dismantling my operations. You call yourself a crime lord but you let your stupid morals rule you, Hood. When will you understand that traffic pays well? That whores pay well?” 

Jason tried not to let his fear show. Past and present mixed in his head, but he could not let that get the best of him. 

“People are not yours to dispose of,” he snarled. “Especially not kids.” 

Sionis’s hand dropped to the back of Jason’s neck. His face was inches away from Jason’s now, and Jason had never been more grateful for his domino mask and how it hid his eyes. 

“But kids are so much more pliant. So innocent. They think that if they do what you ask of them, you’ll stop.” Jason could not breathe. He had been like that, too, once. Before the cold reality of the world settled in and he learned not to trust anyone. Thankfully, by the time he had found himself in the streets, he already knew to count on no one else than himself. He did not dare imagine where he would be today if he had been one of those innocent and pliant kids back then. 

Mask straightened up abruptly. “But I didn’t bring you here to discuss morals with you. As I was saying, you have all been a spectacular thorn in my side, and it is high time I get rid of you. But first, I need compensation for all the bother you’ve caused me, for all the men you cost me, and all the times you put me in Blackgate. All the injuries you gave me. You vigilantes think yourselves untouchable.” Jason resisted the urge to snort. If vigilantes thought themselves untouchable, villains such as Mask thought themselves gods on earth. “Time for payment has come.” 

Mask turned his attention to Batman. Something in Jason loosened. “We don’t have all that much time. I would greatly have enjoyed torturing all of you one by one, keeping you as pets for months on end, until you are begging me to kill you, but I cannot afford this kind of time.” He walked up to Batman. “I will torture one of them only.” Jason’s chest clenched painfully. Something bad was about to come out of Sionis’s mouth, he could feel it. 

“And you will choose who.” 

And you will choose who. 

 Bruce’s heart stopped in his chest. Mask’s words rang over and over again in his ears. 

Now he understood why he was alone on one wall while his children had all been put on the opposite one. Fear choked him. Mask was asking him to choose which one of his children would be tortured. Bruce could not do this.

“Me,” he said, his voice as firm as he could make it. 

Mask burst into laughter. “Nice try, Batsy, but you’re not an option.” He stepped aside and gestured at the four boys chained to the wall. Bruce’s boys. “I want you to choose one of them.” When Bruce stayed silent, his mind struggling to find a way out of this, Sionis added, “Come on, it can’t be that difficult. Just choose which one you love the least.” 

Jason made a sound at the back of his throat. He had clearly been shaken by Sionis’s closeness to him earlier and he was still shaking faintly. 

Bruce could even less make a choice, now. He could not let any of his sons believe he didn’t love them. It was false, oh so false. He loved them all so much it burned him alive every time he thought them in danger and smothered any other emotion when he knew them happy. Bruce knew he had flaws. He knew he had efforts to make and that he could do and be better. But never would he consciously let any of his children believe he didn’t love them or loved them less than their siblings. 

Sionis moved over to Jason again, and Bruce’s second son tensed up. With the domino still on his face, Bruce could not see his eyes, but he could easily imagine the fear swirling in them. Jason’s eyes had always been the part of his body that betrayed his emotions the most. His face was second. Bruce had always believed it was because his heart was too big and too good to hide its true intentions.

“Will it be this one?” asked Sionis. Amusement played on his lips. Bruce let him talk; the more time he took before starting the torture, the more chances there were that someone would come for them before any of Bruce’s sons could be hurt. Sionis looked at Jason contemplatively. “No, probably not. Mr. Hood here is the prodigal son, after all, isn’t he? Or perhaps he isn’t anymore. You’ve had fallouts, if I’m not mistaken.” Sionis leaned towards Jason, who could not suppress his shudder. Bruce strained against his bindings but he could not win against relentless iron. “Does daddy still love you after all the things you’ve done, birdie? We all know Batman’s morals are dead set, while yours are freer. Have you atoned for the wrong you’ve done, or is today the day you pay for your deeds?” 

Bruce saw the waver in Jason’s expression, and he knew his son believed Sionis’s words. He longed to drown Mask’s vile words under his screams, to yell at his son how much he loved him. 

It didn’t matter what Jason had done in the past. He had apologized a thousand times, and Bruce knew how much the Pit had twisted his mind in those hard months. 

Bruce kept his mouth shut, despite the burning of his tongue and his chest. Sionis was unpredictable, and Bruce did not want to risk his son’s safety. He could make sure Jason knew he was loved later; right now, Bruce had to make sure he stayed alive and as unharmed as possible. 

Tim did not flinch when Mask stopped a foot away from him and observed him with calculating eyes. Out of the corner of his eyes, Tim could see Jason shaking. 

 Tim watched as Mask moved onto him. He was not scared of Mask himself. The man, like many villains in Gotham, was an egotistical idiot. He would make a mistake sooner or later, and the rest of the family would come and rescue them. Still, Tim was scared of what the villain would do. He did not want to be tortured, but he would take it over any of his brothers being hurt. But Sionis’s henchmen had gagged him, and he could not offer himself up for torture. 

“Will it be this one?” asked Mask. “A genius, but everyone knows geniuses are the most annoying. They’re know-it-alls, always displaying their knowledge and thinking themselves above everyone else. Tell me, birdie, how much patience have you used up in Batman? How long until he gets rid of you anyway?” Tim kept his face neutral even as the words reopened barely-healed wounds. The man was observant, Tim could give him that. Or perhaps he just knew them all that well. “Do you think you are that useful that he will keep you around forever? That you are so smart that he will forgive all your flaws?” 

No, Tim didn’t think that. He had never been meant to be anything else than a placeholder until Batman stopped trying to get himself killed or until another, more suitable Robin showed up. Most days, he did not understand how he was still here. His insecurities were wounds that started to heal when Jason came back into the family, before Damian had arrived in Gotham. Then, Bruce died, and no one believed Tim when he said he was still alive. 

Being fired from Robin, by the original Robin with that, brutally reopened all of Tim’s wounds. Now, Mask was doing his best to carve them out again, hatching at them until Tim broke. 

He knew he was the logical choice. Jason truly was the prodigal son, and Bruce would never voluntarily expose him to such harm. Damian was the youngest, and Tim would never want him to be chosen for torture if there was another option. Dick was the first, he was Bruce’s original sidekick, he was Nightwing. Tim was just… Tim. Sure, he was smart. Sure, he did his job well and he had recovered Bruce from the timeline. But Bruce didn’t owe him anything and Tim was easily replaceable. 

No matter how much it hurt, he hoped Bruce would choose him over his brothers. 

“Or will it be this one?” asked Mask as he stopped in front of Damian, whose face was set in his trademark scowl. He did not shrink under Mask’s gaze, and Bruce knew Sionis was nothing compared to Ra’s. Still, Bruce hated to see his youngest son—so young that baby fat still clung lovingly to his face and that his hands were tiny enough to be engulfed in Bruce’s—towered by a villain such as Black Mask. 

 Bruce watched with tears in his eyes as Mask moved onto Damian. He was glad that his domino hid them. Tim’s expression had given nothing as Mask prodded at his insecurities. His poker face was, as always, perfect, and Bruce could not tell whether Sionis’s words had hit their mark or not. He knew Tim battled with his place in the family. But had he managed to shield his mind from Mask? If any of them was capable of it, it was certainly him. 

“I know I wouldn’t want him as a child,” continued Mask. “So angry and violent. So snippy, so arrogant. You must be a pain to deal with every day, kid. Let’s hope for your sake that Batsy over there has patience, but we all know it isn’t his forte. You’re young, but if you’re annoying enough, he may very well choose you. Does his love for your brothers overrule his love for you? Are you lovable enough that he won’t want to hurt you?” 

Damian muttered something behind his gag. From habit, Bruce knew his son had said something derogatory in Arabic. But he also knew Mask’s words had gotten to Damian, and more tears pooled in his eyes. He loved them all equally, and Bruce was aware his children knew that. At this moment, however, Mask was toying with their mind, and their insecurities flared up. 

The worst part was that Bruce would have to choose. He would have to make one of them think that what Mask had said was right, that the son he chose was the one he loved the least. 

“Or will it be the Golden Boy?” asked Mask, settling in front of Dick, whose body strained against the chains. Tense as a wire and fury carved into his expression, Dick looked dangerous. More than that, he looked lethal. Bruce noted with satisfaction how Mask stayed a careful foot and a half away from Nightwing. 

“You were only the first draft, after all. A tryout to see what would work and what would fail. And look! As soon as you stopped being Robin, Batman replaced you. You were never meant to last, it seems. Why wouldn’t he choose you?” 

Bruce clenched his eyes shut. He remembered the many arguments he had gotten into with Dick about Bruce’s love for his son. He knew how hurt Dick had been when Bruce told him Robin was over and then when Bruce told him Jason was Robin. Mask had the uncanny ability to see past all their shields and dig out their most intimate insecurities. 

Mask turned to Bruce. “So? Which one will it be?” 

Bruce could not do this. He could not choose one of his sons to be tortured. He could not choose the one he loved most because he loved them all equally and he didn’t want to see any of them hurt. 

Bruce knew already he would not pick Damian. He was too young and his body too fragile for the violence Bruce knew Mask was capable of. It would be so easy to kill him or injure him permanently. 

It did not make his choice easier. 

But he had chosen nonetheless. 

 “Nightwing,” said Batman, and Damian exhaled in relief he did not want to feel. He would never admit it, but Mask’s words had hit closer to home than he liked. Everything the man had said echoed Damian’s own insecurities. And his father had not confirmed them.

If Richard showed a reaction, Damian did not catch it. Mask cackled in delight at Batman’s resigned words and moved towards Nightwing. Damian’s muscles clenched instinctively. He knew what came next, and he hated himself for being relieved he wasn’t going to be the one subjected to it. 

Damian did not want to watch his brother being tortured. He didn’t want to have to hear his cries and know his pain. He wanted his brother safe and sound. Still, selfishly, even after everything Richard had given him, Damian could not stifle the relief coursing through his veins.

He would not be tortured today. 

Hurt washed over the relief before long. He knew, rationally, that Mask’s words had been a mere mind game. That they were not true and that they were simply aimed to hurt. But Mask had hit all his brothers’ insecurities, and Dick had not escaped the psychological dissection. Dick had been struggling with his place in the family for a long time. He knew his family loved him, but their love languages were so different from his, so much more subtle, that he often doubted the reality of their love. 

 Dick’s mind went blank for a second when Batman said his name. Relief came as the first wave. He would have chosen himself over his brothers a thousand times over. Had he not been gagged, he would have begged Bruce to choose him. 

And now Bruce had chosen him. Had it been a tactical decision? Dick was the eldest, after all, and though Jason was strongest, all of them had seen how affected he was by Mask. Dick was the most logical choice. But his mind could not stop wondering if Bruce’s choice had been an answer to Mask's question. Which one of them do you love the least? Was Dick the answer?

Despite all his doubts, Dick held his head high as Mask approached him. He would not let his fear and hurt show; that was the least he could do for his family. Mask called for his henchmen, and several men soon rolled in a complete torture panoply. Mask contemplated from his position next to Dick.

“I can’t quite make a choice,” he said conversationally, and Dick wished villains would speak less and act more because he was growing incredibly tired of their constant monologuing. (Though it at least had the merit of buying them precious time.)

“Batsy,” Mask called out. “Burns or electricity?” 

Bruce did not answer immediately, and Dick knew he was considering the most tactical choice. Both would hurt, but which one was most likely to cause lasting damage? Which was most likely to hinder Dick’s performance on the field? 

“Electricity,” Bruce answered eventually. Dick did not miss the slight waver of his voice, and he felt guilty for the warmth it spurred in Dick’s chest. Maybe he had truly been a tactical choice. 

Mask uncaringly tore through Nightwing’s suit to expose his chest, and Dick resisted the urge to growl. It would have been useless since he was gagged, but he really would appreciate it if villains were more careful with vigilantes’ suits.

Once Dick’s chest was exposed enough for Mask’s tastes, he put electrodes on it. Dick’s heart hammered in his chest. Soon, it would be going wild. 

At last, Mask yanked the gag out of Dick’s mouth with a twisted smile. “I want to hear your screams, birdie,” he whispered, and Dick could not help the shudder than ran through him.

Mask turned on the device, and Dick threw his head back as fire tore through his nerves. He clenched his teeth hard not to scream, but he could not blink back the tears streaming down his cheeks. 

The electricity stopped in a matter of seconds. Dick’s tongue tasted like metal, and his limbs still twitched weakly. He knew the reprieve would not last, and his only comfort was that Mask would not draw out the torture for as long as he could and would not kill him yet. 

Electricity seared through him again. Dick stopped thinking. 

On the third time, he could not hold back his scream. On the fourth, black spots dotted his vision. After the fifth, his head lolled limply against his chest. His nerves were alight with pain. 

“Broken bone or stab wound?” asked Mask

 Bruce’s wrists would be raw by the time they got out of there, but he could not care less. He watched in utter helplessness as Mask patted Dick’s cheek mockingly before turning to Bruce again. A wide, wild smile broke his face in two. Bruce wanted to punch it off. 

Bruce’s breath stuttered in his chest. He was sick and tired of Mask’s games. 

“Do I get to choose the emplacement?” asked Bruce. He could not make a tactical decision without knowing what it would entail, and the least he could do for Dick was spare him the risk of permanent injuries as much as possible. 

Mask pondered on Bruce’s question. “I’ll give you a choice between two options,” he decided finally. 

It was not as good as what Bruce wanted, but it was something. Mask did not want to kill Dick yet. He would make the torture last as long as possible before killing him, and that excluded wounds that led to a quick death. 

“Stab wound,” Bruce answered. Broken bones led to too many risks of healing badly, and Dick would be devastated if a bone healed wrong and stopped him from keeping his work as a vigilante. 

Mask’s fingers trailed over the knives laid out on the rolling table his henchmen had brought in. They finally settled on a small dagger, and Bruce exhaled in relief.

“Leg or abdomen?” 

The answer was no difficulty. “Abdomen,” Bruce replied and tried to ignore the way his heart shattered when Mask violently stabbed Dick, and his son cried out in pain. Blood immediately welled up from the wound and rolled down Dick’s suit-clad legs, pooling on the already-dirty floor. 

Bruce expected Mask to turn back to him. Instead, the villain aimed at Dick again and buried the dagger in his shoulder. Dick screamed brokenly and crumpled. His right shoulder snapped out of its socket under the sudden pressure. Mask laughed and turned away, the dagger still embedded in Dick’s other shoulder. 

The room’s door slammed open at this instant, and a dark figure lunged inside. Black Bat took Mask down before any of them could react. When she straightened up, the villain unconscious at her feet, her eyes gleamed with unrestrained fury. Spoiler strolled in a second later, and together they detached the five other vigilantes from the binds. 

As soon as he was free, Bruce rushed to Dick’s side. His son barely held on to consciousness, his eyes half-lidded and hazy with pain. He smiled up at Bruce. “I’m glad it’s over.” 

@febuwhump

#my writing #creative writing #fanfic #fanfiction #whump #febuwhump2023 #febuwhumpday26 #dc #batman #batfam #hurt dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #bruce wayne #hurt batfamily

[mindonmymoneyandmoneyonmymind]

@demolisherspork on tiktok soo talented

#oh! woah #wow #hurtful #idk what 'why does everyone always look at you that way' sound on tiktok is soo idk it has soo much potential #jason todd #red hood #he doesnt deserve this #he doesnt deserve any of this #batfamily #pls go follow the creator on tiktok if you have it

[arttuff]

some robin 1 and 2 costume headcanons!!!

shorts on jason inspired by rillette on tumblr's amazing jason design. love this bug

imagine going to work at your henchman job and getting beaten up by a larval stage vigilante. i'd be mortified

#robin #dc robin #dick grayson #jason todd #batman #batfamily #batfam #nightwing #red hood #robin dick #robin jason #jason!robin #dick!robin #dc comics #dc #this is not continuity friendly im sorry fellow readers. i just want them to be cute and little #dick around 9 jason around 11 #the timeline changes in new 52 personally hurt me so im looking away

[frownyalfred]

I don’t think the other batkids give Damian enough shit for calling himself the “blood son.”

like what do you mean you’re proud of being related to that man? Bruce can’t maintain an emotional conversation for more than two seconds, drinks raw egg yolks, and walks into walls after not sleeping for 72 hours. he keeps flirting with his enemies and knows every Jeopardy answer before the prompt is fully read and he ruins it for everyone by saying it out loud every time. him????

#jk jk #said lovingly #Damian and the batkids need to mess around like real siblings #which means Damian says that and they’re not hurt #they just start laughing and giving him shit #like sure that’s Batman #but that’s also BRUCE #bruce wayne #batman #dc #batfamily #batdad #batfam #thoughts

[jasmines-library]

Hey, I love your Batfam work! Is there any chance you could do a whump/angst one of batsis being kidnapped by a villian(you can choose whoever you want) and she’s tortured for days with it being broadcasted to the Batfam while they try to track the footage. I feel kinda bad but can you do maybe some head trauma md severe burns? Maybe she has to be put in a medically included coma or smth because of the damage? Also is there any way you could include Barb and Duke along w/ the four robins? If not that’s totally cool! Sorry for the long request but I hope you have a great day!!

Anonymous Requested: batfam x batsib reader whos the youngest and newest robin and is just really goofy and doesn’t take anything seriously (ex: them blaring “who’s the (bat)man” on the comms during patrol [that songs stuck in my head i had to mention it]) and something happens, maybe their first close encounter to death or a run in with the joker and they just become a shell of who they were and stuff

Jokes On Me

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Note: My god im so sorry this literally took me forever to write, thank you so much for being patient. I've been trying to write this all week but just couldn't sit down for long enough to finish it.

Warnings: Torture, blood, burns.

Word Count: 2.5k

⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

“Y/N, turn that shit off.”

Jason grumbled at you over the coms. You had been blasting some wretched song that you’d found on the internet over and over again and it was beginning to drive him mad. 

“Nope.” You said, popping the ‘p’ loudly. 

“Seriously.” Dick deadpanned. He had found it amusing at first, but it was now beginning to test his patience. 

Agitated, you sighed and turned off the music. “Fine.”

“Thank you.” Jason expressed gratefully, turning his eyes back to the road he was patrolling. The night was cool and quiet besides the odd dog walker or couple returning from an evening out. It was one of those nights where patrol would end early and he could return home to take a warm bath and read a book before turning in for the night. Or so he thought. 

You were rounding the corner, humming that tune that was still stuck in your head when his laughter ricocheted across the walls. You stiffened, eyes widening and hands fumbling for your weapon as your breath hitched. No amount of turning and craning your head allowed you to catch a glimpse of the dreaded figure, and you thought for a moment that perhaps it had just been a trick of your mind, or one of your brothers playing a cruel joke on you as payback for winding them up earlier. But then you heard it again, only this time to your left. You clutched your weapon tighter, eyes scanning the area with a new found sense of urgency. 

“Wing…” You whispered into the coms so quietly that you were surprised he heard it.

“What now?” He somewhat snapped. 

“We have a problem.”

Dick’s heart sank through the floor, his ears pricking up and his demeanour changing completely. “Where are you? What’s the matter? He was trying to let his panic show, but you hadn’t been patrolling as a vigilante for very long, and while you were well trained, you lacked the experience to deal with something big on your own. And from your tone of voice, he could tell that you were in some deep shit. 

Jason worked his legs harder to push himself to reach the direction he had seen you head off in. Albeit it seemed even his hardest wasn’t enough.

When he stepped out of the darkness, the first thing you noticed were his eyes. Wide and bright, easily mistakable for a cat’s as they flashed in the darkness; wild. Rabid. As he emerged fully with that infamous twisted grin splayed out on his face, you felt like a cornered animal; a deer in headlights. You froze, unable to move despite how your heart screamed at you to run as it pounded, trying to break free from your ribcage. 

“He’s here…” A mere whisper sliding over your tongue, so fragile that you weren’t even sure if you had actually said it aloud. Jason had heard it. 

“Who?” 

The Joker was circling you now, dragging out his strides in lazy circles. You should have fought but in that moment all of your training had drained out of you, along with the colour in your face. He smirked, leering down upon you as you tried to keep your trembling hand still. He pouted in mockery and at your silence, Jason repeated his question to you, but you never got the chance to respond. 

“Oh…Just an old friend, Jay-bird.”

“Joker.” Urging his body to move faster, Jason grit his teeth. 

Dick paled. “You leave them alone.” Dick spat. It tried to be a command, but the effect was lost somewhere in transmission.

The joker pursed his lips, tilting his head as he analysed. One of his hands had found his way to your jawline and he trailed it with a cold, gloved hand. You wanted to lean away, to run and find your brother but you knew that now he had you in his grasp there was no point in even trying. “And why would I do that? They’re right in front of me. I could just…snatch them up.”

“Don’t you dare!” Dick was frightened now. “Y/N, you stay there as long as you can, okay? You fight. We’re coming, you hear?”

The Joker frowned at you. “D’you hear that? Big brother birdy coming to the rescue. How sweet.”

His grip on you tightened. “Too bad you’ll be long gone by the time they get here.”

With one swift motion, he had thrown you harshly to the side, your head colliding with the wall with a sickening crack. 

The two boys skidded to a halt just a second too late. You were already gone. 

~

Your head hurt when you woke up. Your eyes squinted against the sterile light. They did no favours to your pounding headache. With a groan, you tried to twist, to roll over and soothe the crook in your neck but instead all that happened was the jinging of a metal chain. You craned your head and spotted the thick chain that had been wrapped around your wrist, confining you to the chair. Struggling, you tugged on them, trying to free yourself only for them to rattle and scrape against your skin. 

“Yeah, that’s not going anywhere, birdy.” The joker chided.

You glared at him through narrowed eyes, trying to mask the thumping of your heart. The joker grinned wildly at your frightened complexion. 

“It was such a shame that Grayson and Todd didn’t get to you in time, but it was far too easy to catch you, little bird: you completely froze.” He snapped his fingers to emphasise his point. “Didn’t batsy teach you better?”

“Don’t talk about them.” You snapped. 

The joker raised his hands, palms facing toward you in surrender: taunting you as if you were the one with the power in the situation. “Touchy subject I see. Too bad.” 

He gestured above you to an incessantly blinking light. “Smile for the camera, you’re live.”

~

Babs had been monitoring the street cameras when the computer beside her flickered to life. She had been searching for any sign of you ever since Dick and Jason came flying through the grandfather clock. Everyone was on edge. 

The moment the screen flashed on, her eyes perked up to watch it, alarmed. She hadn’t turned it on. And there were very few people who could bypass the caves system. So when she saw a small frame curled up in a chair she knew immediately what was up. 

“Duke…” she called to the dark haired boy who was trying to help decipher your whereabouts. “Go and get B.” 

It did not take long at all for everyone to gather around in the cave. Duke was fast, and everyone dropped what they were doing to race down: even Alfred had taken his leave from his duties to see. 

It was almost like some sick irony because as soon as they were all there, you began to scream. A guttering, perfect scream that cut that through them like a knife: unclean and pinging into them messily again and again. 

The joker had taken a knife to your left thigh, his smile dripping with malice as he watched the camera, somehow knowing that at least one of them would be watching. 

Your face was contorted in pain, twisting in agony as tears rolled flatly down your cheeks from fearful eyes. Damian felt sick, his stomach churning. Jason wanted to leave. But all of them were stuck watching. Barbra was tapping away, trying to locate the signal from the video to no avail. 

“I hope you’re watching this Batsy…” He moved round to trail your face with the edge of the knife. You whimpered. “I’ve got your little bird here and I must say, you need to work on their training. They were far too easy to catch.”

Bruce felt his jaw tightening and Tim had to place a hand on his arm to remind him of his place. 

“Anyway I thought we would play a little game… how long can little y/n survive for. I wonder if it’ll be any longer than our very own Jason Todd.”

Jason twitched. 

“I’m testing you here, Bat. Tick Tock.”

The transmission cut to black. 

~

It seemed hopeless. Even though they had been searching for days, they were no closer to finding you. And to make matters worse, they could see you. Not long after the first transition ended did it start up again. It had been lifestreaming since then, and although they had tried to block it from their minds, it was hard to ignore. Especially when your agonised screams ricocheted throughout the halls. 

You looked like hell. Dark bags occluded under your eyes and there wasn’t an inch of your skin that wasn’t marred or stained with drying blood. The burns were worse. Damian could still hear the scream you let out when the joker first brought the hot poker to your skin. It had bubbled and blistered as the skin peeled away; you had thrashed against your restraints violently. Tim was certain that they were going to get infected if they didn’t reach you soon. 

It felt as if they had searched everywhere. Dick and Jason had even asked around to see if anyone had heard anything, going as far to talk to the Jokers closest associates in Arkham, but even if they did know, nobody said anything. Duke had even gone as far to go back to the area to use his powers to see if he could trace anything, but nothing seemed out of place; they had hit a brick wall. That was…until a small light appeared on the monitor. Babs had managed to trace the signal to a small building on the outskirts of the city. 

They were suited up in minutes, making a beeline for the building. They stormed it, recklessly taking down the Joker's goons before Batman chased wildly after the Joker, his face stony and his fists burning with anger. The other four boys chased down the winding corridors, flinging open the doors until they found one that was locked. Tim wasted no time, picking the lock with ease he peeled it open. His breath hitched when he saw you. 

Your face was gaunt, hanging low by your chest. Your suit was torn and there was less of it on your body than there was ripped away. You looked so fragile as your chest heaved sporadically. 

Jason nearly had to take a step back. This place reminded himself too much of his own encounter with the Joker not too long ago. But he pressed forward, fighting his instincts. He had to be strong. Instead of turning back, he kneeled in front of you, whispering your name. His hand came up to cup your face. You flinched away. 

“It’s okay kid. It’s us.” He tried to reassure you, but you shrank back into yourself. 

“We’re so, so sorry kiddo.” Dick tried placing a gentle hand on your arm before moving to work on the cuffs around your wrists. “We’re going to get you out.”

You said nothing, just continued to stare at the black space before you, and Dami wasn’t sure if you even knew they were in front of you. But when Jason moved away from you to help remove your restraints, your fingers latched onto him and you squeaked in protest. 

He sighed shakily. “Don’t worry kid. I’m not going anywhere.”

Damian twisted from where he was guarding the door. “We need to leave.”

Dick nodded bluntly, finishing with the last of the locks. “I’m going to have to pick you up, okay sweetheart?”

You barely registered what he had said. Everything had grown numb, you nodded anyhow. Moving his arms underneath your legs and slipping one arm behind your back, Jason began to lift you. He nearly recoiled when you cried and whimpered with the way your wounds jostled as he sprinted out of the building to get you back to safety. 

~

You were yet to say anything since you came home. You had been back a few days and your wounds were healing up nicely thanks to Alfred’s handywork, but the air was eerily silent around you. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t been communicating with them; you spoke to them with gestures or writing but no one was used to not hearing your voice. The stark contrast between your loud and bustling personality and you now was unsettling. No one wanted to push you too far but the manor was beginning to grow lonely. 

It was one particularly rainy night when you finally spoke.  You were curled up in a large armchair by the window in the library, sinking back into the plush leather as you watched the raindrops race down the glass. Jason had been watching you from afar, contemplating whether to talk to you or not when he walked over. 

“What are you up to?” He asked you, making sure you knew that he was there before he spoke. 

You gestured toward the window,then to the half opened book at your feet and shrugged. 

“I see.” He nodded, taking a seat on the armchair opposite you. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you. Jason wasn’t much of a talker. He knew more than anyone what you were going through, which was why it was nice just to know that he was willing to sit with you, just so you knew that he was there if you needed him. It made you feel safe. But you also couldn’t help but feel guilty, and frustrated with yourself for being in a place that made him feel as though he had to do that. 

“I’m sorry.” You whispered. 

Jason had to do a second take. His heart swelled. “What for?”

You sighed. “This. When I saw him…i-i froze. If I had run then this would never have happened.”

“Shh. This isn’t your fault.”

“But-”

“I promise, Kid. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

You nodded, looking away from him. But then you furrowed your brows and turned back to him. “How did you do it? How did you deal with this, Jay? Every time I close my eyes he’s there.”

“I guess I don’t, really. Or sometimes it feels like I don’t. I still get scared sometimes. I still see him in my dreams. But over time it gets easier. I had people around me to help me. And so do you, kid. We’re here. We’ll always be here.”

Jason shifted to brush away a rogue tear and you leaned into his touch and then wrapped your arms tightly around his middle. 

“I’m here. Always. We’ll get through this together.”

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

BATFAM TAGS

@aestheticdaisies @hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @mamapucket @hell-o-kittys @harleycao @batfamsstuff @alicedawitchbish

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

#batfam x reader #Batfamily x reader #dc x reader #dc #batfam #dick Grayson #dick Grayson x reader #hurt/comfort #nightwing #nightwing x reader #Jason Todd #Jason Todd x Reader #batfam x sibling reader #red hood #red hood x reader #batfam x injured reader #Tim Drake #Tim Drake x Reader #red Robin #red Robin x reader #Damian Wayne #Damian Wayne x Reader #robin #robin x reader #writing #angst #whump #duke Tomas #barbra gordon #Batman

[ghost-bxrd]

Just read the comic where Joker runs into Robin!Tim for the first time post Ethiopia and starts raging about “How are you back!? I killed you! I killed you! No matter, just gotta do it again then!”

And it got me thinking again about how similar Tim and Jason must have looked in costume and just—

(Look I’m not saying there was a part of Bruce that was comforted by having “Jason” close again but—-)

#I just think Bruce mistaking Tim for Jason every once in a while adds that special flavor of angst #dick was his first Robin #but I feel like Jason was his first kid #in the way that dick never really wanted a new dad at first and wanted to be Bruce’s equal #Jason was fine being a child #and Bruce had to accommodate #and adopted him #he was a DAD #so the loss hurt all the more for it #do I think Bruce was highkey tried following Jason several times? #yes I do #that’s when Tim intervened #and oh there’s Bruce’s kid #look I know this ain’t canon but gosh do I love this trope #jason todd #dick grayson #batfam #robin #batfamily #bruce wayne #tim drake #red hood #batman #Nightwing #ghost talks #headcanon #trope #fanon

[clambuoyance]

[DC] sketch page for the bday boy 🫶

#these r old i just colored them #was gonna draw smth but my hand hurts #lol #clam draws #dc clamics #dc fanart #dc #tim drake #robin #Red Robin #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #batfamily #batfam #batgirl

[dragonpyre]

Reverse Robins! Follow up to this comic where Robin!Jason meets a certain someone...

Commission info ko-fi

#dc #batman #damian wayne #damian al ghul #jason todd #reverse robins #fanart #fan art #my art #batfam #batfamily #batkids #batbros #batsiblings #comic #dc comics #blood #injury #whump #tw blood #tw injury #hurt/comfort #jaybin #Robin!jason Todd #Robin!jason #nightwing!damian

[bruciemilf]

Bitches be like " can't wait for Bruce to die lmao" and then have 10 consecutive panic attacks when Bruce gets sick for longer than a week (Jason Todd, Jason Todd is bitches)

#like literally i feel like we should talk more about the after effects of becoming robin but like. actively #like imagine your dad getting jumped by 10 people jump and having to shake them off. if he cant?? tough!! if he CAN? you still had #to be quiet in the batmobile as you watch your dad get hurt. sure it may be batman taking the punches but bruce takes the pain #like?? little jason todd crying when he sees bruce get beat up on patrol for the first time. he wins but he's still injured-- idk dude its #cool to think abt. #jason todd #bruce wayne #text #text post #dc #dc comics #batfamily #batdad

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡You're Gonna Go Far｡⋆.

Batsis!reader

We ain't angry at you, love You're the greatest thing we've lost

Warnings: older sister syndrome, angst, mentions of Jason’s death (seriously Lou not every fic), hurt/comfort, all platonic

Stick Season (We'll All Be Here Forever)

The letter in your hands felt far heavier than the small envelope of papers should have felt. You knew already what it said, what it meant and by god it was tempting to just shove it into your desk drawer and forget about it.

But you couldn’t forget, not when the words inked on those white pages meant that you could finally follow your dreams. Your thumb traced along the emblem at the top right corner of the letter as you read over the excited paragraph of acceptance yet again. It was a spur of the moment thing, a brief lapse into insanity when everything got to be too much and now, the consequences had come.

Could you go? Could you really leave all this behind and do the things you’ve always wanted to do? The seed of hope began to sprout in your chest, slowly weaving through the years of responsibility and obligation you had used to bury it as deep as you could.

But then, you heard muffled arguments through your bedroom door, seeping in like a thick fog. It brushed against your feet, sending a freezing chill through your body. It licked at your fingertips until you couldn’t stand the cold. 

Quickly, you shoved the envelope and the letter into the bottom of your trashcan and stood. “What are you fuckheads fighting about this time?” Your siblings responded with more shouting and as you left your bedroom, you doused that little bit of hope with the poison of your duty.

——————

“What did you want to be when you grew up?” The question hung in the stale air for a moment, looming over you as you worked on sharpening Damian’s favourite sword. Your father was sitting at the massive wall of screens, wearing all of his uniform except for the cowl. A pensive look on his face, he seemingly couldn’t meet your eyes.

“A dinosaur cowboy rockstar.” You snipped back. The letter flashed through your mind but disappeared quickly enough with another pull of the blade against the sharpening stone. Bruce’s brow furrowed.

“You know that’s not what I meant.” You sighed heavily through your nose as your shoulders tensed with the blowout that was about to happen. His eyes pierced into you, watching you with that same bit of intensity they had the first time you donned the Robin suit. 

The leather hilt of the blade creaked with the strength of your grip and the cave settled into a tense silence. But you couldn’t feel that anger that you used to when he asked that question any time before, all you felt was that overwhelming, devastating sadness of what your life could have been.

The first time was when Dick left; Bruce wanted comfort, to know that what he had condemned you and your brother to do was right. You had swallowed down that anger, the urge to scream at him and blame him for everything in favour of telling him exactly what he wanted to hear. “I’ve always wanted to help people and being Robin was the best thing I could be.”

It was after Jason’s funeral when he asked next. Your eyes were still swollen with your tears, your shirt ruined from where Dick had been clinging to you and the bruises from the explosion that took your little brother not yet healed. You had refused to answer him, just telling him to get some rest and that the mantle of Batman would be yours until Alfred determined him fit for the field once more.

You supposed this time had been brought on by Tim’s departure to college barely a week ago. The house was noticeably dimmer without the boy genius and it had quite obviously been affecting your father. You nor Dick or Jason ever got the chance to go to college so it was a massive change.

The bite of your nails into the palm of your hand brought you back into focus where your father was watching you, unblinking. Bruce was a patient man, you’ll give him that.

“Why exactly does it matter? I have a job to do here- protect my brothers, protect the city, protect you in that order, just like you taught me.” His flinch was almost imperceptible to the untrained eye but you were far from untrained.

“Is that really what you want out of your life?” He was probing for something and you didn’t really care. The blade slid easily back into its sheath as you approached the wall of weaponry behind you. 

“What I may want isn’t relevant here, I’m doing what I can- is that enough for you?” With more force than necessary, you slammed the sword into place, turning your back on your father. “I have shit to do, call me if you need backup.” 

——————

You had been avoiding your room like the plague for three days now. Each time you stepped foot in there, all you could think about was the letter and how the deadline for the offer was drawing ever closer. The easiest solution would just be to throw it out or even calling the university to tell them that you were declining their offer but the easy way of doing things was not your style.

Instead, you started staying up all night and crashing on the couch whenever you needed a power nap. You weren’t dense enough to think that your family hadn’t noticed your change in behaviour but they at least didn’t mention it and you were grateful for that.

“Hey Dams, I need you for a second.” Ever eager to avoid his homework, your youngest brother perked up, his undivided attention now firmly on you. You chuckled softly. “Can you go grab my charger from my room, it should be on my desk.”

“Tt, so forgetful.” He muttered but obeyed anyway, leaving you smiling softly as you returned to your book. 

You hadn’t noticed how long he had been gone until it was Jason that strolled into your father’s office. Still donned in his leather jacket, hair still damp from the rain that had only just started, he looked like a mess. “I thought you vowed never to come back.” You quipped. 

“Har har, you’re still annoying as shit I see.” But even with his harsh tone, Jason plopped himself next to you on the couch and leaned his head on your shoulder. “Are you ever gonna get outta here?”

Your eyes flicked to your not so little brother. “Why is everyone asking me that, I mean if you want me to move out, I can.” You brushed off with a laugh.

“You don’t have to stay y’a know, you can go if you want. No one would be angry at you.” Your heart clenched painfully in your chest. That little seedling of hope began to come back to life once again, tentatively putting out roots.

“Where would I go Jay-bird?” He shook his head, forcing his face into your neck just like he would do when he was little.

“Anywhere, somewhere far from here.”

“But then who would be around to protect you Robins hm?” 

“We aren’t little anymore, we can take care of ourselves.” You wrapped an arm around his broad shoulders and kissed the top of his head. Before you could respond, the office door opened once more and most of the rest of your family filed in.

Each of them looked haunted and almost withdrawn, save for Damian who angrily stomped over to you, and shoved Jason off of you so he could crawl onto your lap. “Who died?” You let your youngest brother wrap your arms around him as you made eye contact with your father.

But it was Dick that stepped forward, a piece of paper in his hands. “Why didn’t you tell us?” His voice shook with that unique mixture of rage and heartbreak that it seemed only he could perfect. The paper trembled in his hands, making the embossment at the top visible.

You poked Damian on his side. “I told you to stop looking through my stuff, you little shit.”

“Couldn’t find your charger.” He responded indigently, his fingers curling into your shirt.

“This is a big deal miss, not just anyone gets into this university.” Alfred, ever the peacemaker, laid a hand on Dick’s shoulder. “You should have told us.”

“It’s nothing, it was a lapse of judgement. I wouldn’t leave you all.” You brushed off but evidently, that wasn’t good enough for anyone. Dick and Jason scoffed while Bruce just looked like he was about to cry.

“You could go, leave this place and you’re giving it up for some idea that we need protecting? That’s fucking stupid.” Jason shoved himself away from you, angrily rising to his feet as he ran a hand through his hair. “You have a real shot here.”

“Is that what this is, some kind of fucking intervention? My life is my own thank you very much, I don’t need all of you telling me what I can or cannot do.” You tried to pry Damian from you in some vain attempt to get away from the conversation but that sneaky shit had dug his fingers into your shirt so tightly that there was no way you were getting him off of you without ripping off your shirt.

The roots were taking hold and it made you feel like shit. Who were you to leave this all behind when it could so easily be ripped away from you? You were needed here, your purpose was here not at some college where you couldn’t be there to protect your brothers.

“We’ll be ok, you can go.” You shook your head, biting back tears that were already building. Bruce came closer, taking your face between his hands. “I have put too much on you, I should have realised long ago. I’m sorry Birdie.”

“You haven’t called me that since I was 12.” Your father laughed sadly.

“Oh my girl, I haven’t been a good father to you have I?” His calloused thumbs wiped away the tears that you hadn’t realised were now steadily rolling down your full cheeks.

“You were never a good dad.” Jason scoffed which was quickly followed by a yelp as Dick elbowed him in the stomach.

“They’re having a moment.” 

“I put so much weight on your shoulders, it was my job to protect all of you but I don’t think I’ve done a very good job at that. This shouldn’t be your dream, you deserve to make a life for yourself without having to worry about all of us.” It was so strange to see your father laid so bare in front of you, freely admitting his mistakes. “You deserve so much more than this.”

You looked at your brothers as if they would give you some excuse to stay, to reject that offer but their faces remained stern if not a little sad. “You can go sis.” Dick nodded.

“You’ve done more than enough for us, I think it’s time that we pick up the slack.” Jason bumped him with his shoulder and gave you a big grin. “Besides, I think it would be nice for you to actually have a social life instead of nagging us all the time.”

Alfred spoke again. “I believe what Master Jason is trying to say is that we won’t hold you back from chasing your dreams. In fact, we are actually quite proud of you.”

A solid weight against your chest brought your gaze back down to the youngest of the group. “Damian?” You knew that boy was incredibly attached to you and would take some kind of issue with you leaving to go study somewhere else.

“If you don’t go, I will never talk to you again.” 

“Well I guess that settles it.” You said thickly, struggling to speak through the lump in your throat. “I’m going to college!” Bruce didn’t hesitate to scoop you into his arms in a hug so tight you felt your ribs creak. Damian whined a slight protest but made no move to slip out from your arms.

“Good because Tim already accepted the offer for you, you start in a couple months.” As your laughter filled the room, the hope in your chest blossomed, casting your guilt and pain into the shadows of its petals. 

[Verse 1] The only time I got to praying for a red light Was when I saw your destination as a deadline "This is normal conversation, babe, it's all fine" Making quiet calculations where the fault lies This is good land, or at least it was It takes a strong hand and a sound mind [Verse 2] The college kids are getting so young, ain't they? They're correcting all the grammar on a spray paint And I even gave up driving after nightfall I got tired of the frat boys with their brights on This is good land, or at least it was It takes a strong hand and a sound mind [Pre-Chorus] It makes me smile to know when things get hard Ooh-ooh, you'll be far Ooh-ooh, you'll bе far from here And, while I clеan shit up in the yard Ooh-ooh, you'll be far Ooh-ooh, you'll be far, far from here [Chorus] So, pack up your car, put a hand on your heart Say whatever you feel, be wherever you are We ain't angry at you, love You're the greatest thing we've lost The birds will still sing Your folks will still fight The boards will still creak The leaves will still die We ain't angry at you, love We'll be waiting for you, love [Post-Chorus] And we'll all be here forever And we'll all be here forever We sure will [Verse 3] We're overdue for a revival We spent so long just getting by That's the thing about survival Who the hell— who the hell likes livin' just to die? You told me you would make a difference Well, I got drunk and shut you down It won't be by your own volition If you step foot outside this town But it's all we've had For always [Chorus] So, pack up your car, put a hand on your heart Say whatever you feel, be wherever you are We ain't angry at you, love You're the greatest thing we've lost The birds will still sing Your folks will still fight The boards will still creek The leaves will still die We ain't angry at you, love We'll be waiting for you, love [Post-Chorus] And we'll all be here forever And we'll all be here forever [Outro] You're gonna go far You're gonna go far You're gonna go far You're gonna go far Yes, you are (Ooh-ooh) If you wanna go far Then you gotta go far

All works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @faefanatic @evansqueen54 @anamiad00msday @th3slothy @princess76179 @Lanielagenev @luvvvjada @Lucypaulette @midnight-shadow-va @mooniequeen @km-ffluv

DC

@snedhdh @kobaltdragon @blackhawkfanatic @8bookishworm8 @honkytonkbabe @certifiedhunter @qardasngan

#batsis reader #hurt/comfort #batfamily #alfred pennyworth #batfam #dick grayson #jason todd #damian wayne #batsis!reader #batsis #jason todd x plus size reader #dick grayson x plus size reader #bruce wayne x plus size reader #damian wayne x plus size reader #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #bruce wayne x reader #batfam x reader #batman x reader #damian wayne x reader

[iriswords]

Febuwhump Day 25 - Assumed dead

You can also read this on ao3 and find the rest of my febuwhump fics here

tw: presumed death, grief and mourning, slight mentions of past child abuse, implied torture, sequestration (no graphic depiction)

Fandom: Batman

Words: 3610

They searched the desert. They searched the towns. They interrogated traffickers.

No one knew anything.

Tim never checked in.

--

Silence reigned in the Cave as they waited for Tim to check in with them. Bruce paced frantically in front of the computer, his hands tightened into fists behind his back. His son was supposed to have checked in five hours ago already. Delay was possible during missions; it was even probable. But Tim was always as punctual as he could be, and if he was delayed, he would always try to at least send a message explaining why. 

The only exception was when he was unable to. Bruce did not want to think about what the lack of a message and the absence of check-in meant, but he could do nothing else. 

The whole family had assembled in the Cave, tending to their activities while trying to tame their worry. 

Tim never checked in. 

 They formed an operation and went to his last known position in the desert. They found nothing. No one Tim had been in contact with during his mission, trying to dismantle a worldwide trafficking ring they suspected was connected to Ra’s al-Ghul, had heard from him for days. 

They searched the desert. They searched the towns. They interrogated traffickers. 

No one knew anything. 

Bruce was losing it. He could feel it in himself. Words he dreaded to hear edged on his mind constantly, taunting him, haunting him. His children looked at him with worry-filled eyes, even as they grew more and more desperate. 

Tim never checked in. 

 Bruce contacted Talia. He hadn’t talked to her about something else than Damian in years. 

“This is important,” was the first thing he said to her. He knew despair leaked into his voice in a way it never did, but he did not care. Talia remained silent on the other end of the line. “Is Tim in the League?” he asked. 

“Not that I know,” answered Talia and Bruce knew she was telling the truth. Somehow, this was even worse. “I’ll look,” she promised. 

She called a week later. Tim was not with the League. 

He never checked in. 

 Weeks turned to months. The family lost hope. Tim was strong, and he was brave. But no one had ever gone so long on a mission without contacting the family. Not if they were alive. 

Under both his identities, Tim’s disappearance did not go unnoticed by the press. Whispers about Red Robin’s death ran the streets; the police interrogated Bruce about Tim Drake’s disappearance. 

Six months after he had disappeared, Tim was pronounced presumed dead. For the second time in his life, Bruce Wayne officially lost a son. In truth, it was not the second time. Jason had been the first, but Damian had died, too. The pain did not get easier the third time. 

 This time, Bruce made sure not to lose himself in his grief. Too many people counted on him, now. Back when Jason had died, Bruce was not on speaking terms with Dick. The only one he had was Alfred, and Bruce hadn’t cared. It had been cruel of him, but it hadn’t mattered at the time, whether he died or not. He just wanted the pain to ease. And then came a bright and brilliant boy, so determined yet so uncertain of his place in the world. 

Now, that boy was gone, and Bruce had an entire family around him. He knew they cared about him as much as he cared about them; he could not subject them to his death. 

Some days, his grief was paralyzing. Bruce would lay in bed far later than he should have, memories of Tim swirling in his head. Some days, he would spend hours in the Cave, working himself to exhaustion, if only to push the pain away. 

It never worked. Nothing could ease the pain of a dead son. 

  For the third time in his life, Dick lost a brother. First Jason, then Damian. Now, Tim. For a long time, he did not cry. He usually wore his heart on his sleeve, but the more they searched and the more they came back empty-handed, the more his emotions retreated in his chest. Dick was empty, as though Tim had stolen all of his emotions and, now that he was dead, Dick would never get them back. 

He isolated himself from the others so they wouldn't notice that he did not cry. Dick knew they needed him, he knew that he should be acting his role as the eldest, but the pain was too much to bear. He went back to Bludhaven as soon as Tim’s funeral was over and stayed holed up there for two weeks before he went out again. In that time, he had not shed a single tear; he had not felt a single emotion. 

He finally cried eight months after Tim’s disappearance. The others had started to grieve and move on however they could. Dick’s grief was a stagnating point. He was too numb for it to progress in any way. One Sunday when he was sorting through his stuff in his room at the Manor in an attempt to distract himself from the overwhelming emptiness inside himself, his fingers brushed against the particular paper pictures were printed on. 

It was a picture Tim had taken and given to Dick, so artful it could easily have won a competition. Nightwing and Robin—Damian’s Robin—displayed against Gotham’s night sky, flying through the skyline. The angles and the light were perfectly mastered, but what Tim had best managed to capture was the exhilaration on both his and Damian’s face. 

A tear rolled down his cheek, soon followed by another. Before he knew it, Dick was folded in half and sobbing. 

  Jason did not know how to mourn Tim. He had first encountered the kid when he was still a sneaky, scrawny child chasing Batman and Robin through Gotham at night, an expensive camera clutched in his tiny hand. Then, Jason died and come back wrong, and the next meeting he had with Tim consisted of Jason torturing him and slitting his throat open. 

Needless to say, their relationship had been somewhat rocky after that. It had only started to get better recently. It had been Tim’s initiative. Of course, it was; the kid’s heart was too big for his own sake and he was always ready to make efforts, even for people who didn’t deserve it. He had showed up at Jason’s door a Sunday morning and offered they go to a cafe together. 

To Jason’s immense surprise, he loved it. Sundays had quickly become their day after that, a day they spent quality time together. 

There would be no more Sundays with Tim now, and Jason did not know how to mourn him. How did you grieve someone you tried to kill? How did you grieve someone you could not forgive yourself for hurting? Jason didn’t have an answer to these questions. 

At Tim’s funeral, he stayed in the back until everyone else was gone. Bruce gave him an anguished glance, but he squeezed Jason’s shoulder as he passed him on his way back to the Manor. 

The sun stood high in the sky that day, shining hard on Jason’s back as he kneeled before Tim’s fresh tomb. The only grave he had visited before was his own. Jason did not know what you were supposed to say to the dead, even more so when there was no corpse to speak to. 

Words failed him, and instead, he stayed prostrated on the grass before Tim’s grave until night fell and Alfred came to retrieve him. His tears spoke enough for what his tongue failed to say. The pain and guilt did not ease. 

  Stephanie was not part of the family but she had lost a brother anyway. Tim had been many things to her. Best friend, boyfriend, best friend again, and now a mix between best friend and brother. She loved him so fiercely that she had never managed to put it into words the way she wanted. And now, if she ever managed, it would be of no use. 

Stephanie had always thought of Tim as immortal. He was the embodiment of determination and stubbornness; he could not die. When Tim wanted something, he reached it because he worked hard on doing so. Like anyone, he had flaws, but easy surrender had never been one of them. He had out-stubborned Batman. Her mind had taken it as meaning he would also defeat death. 

He had not and she did not know what to do with this information. 

Her life did not stop with Tim’s death, and she almost resented that it didn’t. She still fought crime at night, she still went to college, and she still struggled with everyday problems. She was still treated as though she was part of the family and she still felt like she didn’t. 

The world went on. Steph wanted to scream at it to stop, to just stop and mourn with them.

She had always liked to watch people in the streets, to observe them laugh and smile and go on about their days. Now, she felt distanced from them. They were unaware of the tragedy that had just occurred in her life. They went on as if nothing had happened and Steph went on, too. She didn’t have a choice. 

Some days, it felt like nothing had changed. But then she would turn to say something to Tim, or reach for her phone to send him a text, and his glaring absence would manifest. 

  Cassandra did not know how to deal with grief. She had always been good at reading body language and analyzing others’ emotions. Growing up, she had no choice for words were banned. But she was not so attuned with her own emotions. They, too, had been banned growing up. Emotions meant vulnerability. Emotions meant danger because emotions meant she could stop listening to her master. They meant she could try and emancipate. 

Cass did not know how to deal with the vicious emotion that carved her heart out of her chest and stabbed her over and over again in the gaping hole it had left. She did not know how to express it, and she did not know how to understand it. She didn’t know how to make it go away. 

She tried to be there for the others but Cass quickly found that their pain made her more acute, so much so it felt like dying, and she retreated to lurking in the shadows of the Manor. She had become a ghost again. 

Most of the time, she spent her days outside, meandering on the vast property. Cass did not shy away from thinking about grief. She knew it was the only way to cope with it. Nature helped soothe her pain. 

Inevitably, she would find herself before Tim’s grave. When she kneeled before the stone, the grass soft and lush under her fingers, her tongue loosened. She talked like she had never talked before, finding words she didn’t even know she had, and uncaring of the stilted rhythm of her sentences. Tim would not judge her for struggling. 

She talked, and talked, and talked. She let out all the words she had not had access to growing up. She confessed her grief and confessed her joys. Cass knew Tim would be happy that she was able to move on, bit by bit. 

Grief stung sharper when she was away from the tomb, when Tim’s absence manifested more evidently, and when her tongue tied itself again. 

  Damian had never lost someone before. Not like this. 

Damian had quickly learned to stifle his emotions. It was necessary, a means of survival. It pleased Grandfather, and everything that pleased Grandfather was safer than anything else in the League. Not safe, but safer. 

He had seen death countless times. He had lost friends in the League, all of them animals, and he had lost tutors he cared about. He had never lost a brother. 

Back in the League, whenever Damian lost a pet, he was not allowed to mourn. All the pets had been killed to teach Damian a lesson, and to cry was to fail. To cry was to earn punishment and another lesson, another death. 

In Gotham, Damian slowly unlearned the ways of the League. He learned to let his emotions show and he learned that no pet of his would ever be killed for whatever reason, unless it was kinder than to let them suffer from something that could not be cured. He learned no one would punish him for showing fear or sadness and he learned he did not have to be perfect. 

He found a family. That had baffled him the most. Damian knew he had not been the easiest kid to be around at first. But they had all accepted him, even Tim, whom he had tried to kill multiple times and from whom he had taken Robin. 

Tim had been a surprisingly thoughtful brother. His words could be vicious, a weapon of their own, but he knew how to make them kind and reassuring. His eyes could pinpoint an enemy’s weakness faster than most, and they could also spot insecurities but instead of hurting Damian with them, he always tried to mend them. 

Damian cried at Tim’s funeral, tucked against his father. He did not try to hide it. 

  Talia called a year after Tim’s disappearance.

“Beloved,” she said when Bruce picked up the phone. He knew from the tone of her voice something was wrong. 

“What is it?” he asked. In the dining room where the family was gathered, all movement stopped. 

“You asked if Timothy was in the League, if I’m not mistaken.” 

Bruce’s hand clenched around his phone. His heart picked up in speed, and dangerous hope swelled in his chest. He dared not let himself feel it. “I did,” he replied carefully. “And you said he wasn’t.”

“It seems I was wrong.” Bruce stopped breathing. The world spun faintly around him and his ear rang. 

“Elaborate,” he ordered. 

“Thank you. I’ll—”

“I discovered earlier today cells I did not know existed. My father kept their existence from me. I wondered why, at first, but now I understand. He likes to keep those he considers his pets in them. There is only one person at the moment, and I believe him to be Timothy. I did not have much time to make sure and I will not be able to go back lest I make my father suspicious, so do not rise your hopes too much, Beloved. But I thought it best to inform you nonetheless.” 

Blood drained from Bruce’s face and he swayed on his feet. Strangled, concerned shouts came from somewhere in the room but he paid them no mind. 

“Take some time to think of something. I’ll try to stay available.” Talia ended the call and Bruce let his phone fall to the floor. He sat down heavily on a chair and put his head in his hands. 

Tim may be alive. Tim may be alive and kept by Ra’s al-Ghul. This whole time, they could have gone and retrieved him. 

But perhaps it was not him. Talia never said she had a doubt unless it was a sizable one, for she was nothing if not confident in her abilities and her mind. If she had said she was not sure, it was because the person kept in Ra’s cell may not have been Tim at all. 

“Bruce!” called Dick, shaking him slightly. “What is it?”

Bruce raised his head and looked at his family. Should he tell them? Should he allow them to hope in such a way? They had all been destroyed when Tim had been pronounced dead and they had just begun to move on. If this wasn’t him, none of them would recover from it.

But this was too big a secret to keep. 

“Talia called,” he answered in a strangled voice. “She— Ra’s has been keeping someone in the League as a personal pet. She’s not certain but she believes it may be Tim.” 

Silence fell onto the room. Suddenly, Dick folded forward in a violent sob, and Jason wordlessly tucked him into his side. 

A tiny hand pulled on Bruce’s sleeve. Damian was looking at him with stern eyes. “We must go to the Cave this instant, Father, and prepare a rescue mission. We cannot leave him with Grandfather a second more.” 

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Bruce warned gently. “All of you. This may not be him. Talia wasn’t certain.”

 Bruce had never prepared an operation this size faster. All of the vigilantes in his family, save for Kate, who was busy on the other side of the planet and could not come back to Gotham in time, came together to plan the rescue mission. Tim or not, taking on the League and challenging Ra’s was no light mission, and all of them would be needed, even with Talia’s help. 

But they were all determined, driven by grief and hope. Bruce saw in their eyes and the pull of their mouths how hard they tried not to hope. In the end, they all failed, himself included. 

His children slept on the plane on the way to Nanda Parbat, curled around one another. Any other time, Bruce would have found it endearing and he would have relished in the way they had all come closer this past year. In such circumstances, however, he lamented the fact that they had to be so strong every day. 

His hands were steady as ever as he landed the plane but his heart hammered in his chest. Nanda Parbat was shrouded in the dark of the night, and all the vigilantes skidded silently across the city’s cobblestone. Talia was waiting for them before the League’s stronghold and led them inside through an unguarded entrance on the side of the building. 

The League of Assassins was powerful and numerous highly-skilled assassins were part of it. But only a few of them resided in Nanda Parbat’s stronghold and they were no match against desperate Bats helped by the Talia al-Ghul herself. 

Ra’s was waiting for them in the cell corridor by the time they reached it. Damian and Jason, those who knew the stronghold best, stood behind Bruce. The rest had stayed behind to fight the assassins alongside Talia. There were three Bats in the corridor, armed and skilled. Angry and hopeful. Ra’s was alone, and drunk on his ego, as he always was. Bruce had no doubt they would win this fight. 

A vile smirk played on Ra’s lips. “I thought it would take you less time to come and get him.” 

His words were confirmation enough for Bruce. He did not waste his saliva on a pointless exchange with Ra’s and lunged instead. Ra’s was prepared and he dodged Bruce’s blow easily. But Bruce was not alone. Damian and Jason had moved as soon as he has, and Ra’s had not accounted for this. As smart as he was, he had the bad habit of underestimating his opponents. He expected them to watch and wait their turn. He didn’t know them nearly as well as he thought he did. 

Damian reached Ra’s first, his sword aimed for his chest. Ra’s grabbed it bare-handedly, uncaring of how it sliced through his palms, and wrenched it free of Damian’s grip. But his grandson had inherited the al-Ghuls’ stubbornness and he did not relent. As soon as he had an opening, he lunged again, and Jason backed him up. 

Certain Ra’s was taken care of, Bruce turned to the cell that interested him. He could make out a slumped silhouette against the cell’s far wall. Bruce held up the keys he had snatched from Ra’s and opened the cell. Silently, his heart beating in his temples as hard as the time he had arrived in Ethiopia too late to save Jason, Bruce took a step into the cell. The silhouette did not raise its head. 

As he got closer, Bruce noticed how emaciated and dirty they were. Their head lolled against their chest and their bone-thin wrists were held up by thick manacles and chains. Bruce crouched down in front of the person. Finally, eyes peered up at him blearily. Bruce’s heart caught in his throat. He would recognize this deep blue and the face around the eyes anywhere. 

A tear rolled down his cheek. In the hallway, the loud bang of a gun going off resounded, followed by solemn silence. Tim flinched violently at the sound and slammed his head against the wall. A whimper escaped him, and Bruce cupped his cheek gently. 

“It’s just Jason,” he said. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re safe, now.” 

Tim stared at him with unseeing eyes. “Dad?” he asked finally. 

Bruce smiled through his tears. “Yes, baby. I’m here.” 

 Alfred had lost many people in his long life. It never ceased to hurt. He had learned to cope with grief through time and hardships. But nothing ever prepared him for the ecstasy that came with one of these people coming back to life.  

He cried unashamedly when Jason and Damian came back. He cried with just as much fervor when Tim came off the plane, wrapped in thick blankets and looking like he would topple from the faintest of breezes. Alfred hugged him tight, and Tim squeezes just as hard. They wet each other’s shoulders, and neither of them cared. 

That Sunday, his family’s laughter and warmth filled the dining room. It had been a long, long time since they had all reunited there. 

@febuwhump

#my writing #creative writing #fanfic #fanfiction #whump #febuwhump2023 #febuwhumpday25 #grief and mourning #references to torture #dc #batman #batfamily #tim drake #hurt tim drake #tim drake whump #hurt batfamily

[hylianane]

It might seem like I’m joking when I say that Batman VS the TMNT is my favorite movie of all time but you need to understand that to me. to me? This movie has it all. The Gotham City Rogues all get fursonas. Two poorly voiced lesbians tearfully break up in a pizzeria right before Batman throws Michealangelo through the window. Donatello sees Damian Wayne and yells “What are you, five?!” Leonardo calls him “Little guy” and Damian fucking breaks his knees with a bo staff. Harley’s in her jester outfit telling Joker that eight years of college and three years of residency make her overqualified to be the sexy nurse. Raphael of all turtles lectures Batman about not being direct and trusting with his family. Leonardo kicks Ra’s al Ghul in the balls. Shredders asks Batman to say his last words and he goes, “Cowabunga”

#straight to dvd masterpiece holy fucking shit my stomach hurts #it hurts it hurts my SOUL that we will probably never get the ‘mutated shredder’ sequel they teased this film is a delight #WHERE is my sequel in which the Robin boys go to New York and get their asses kicked by a giant rat in a moment of narrative symmetry #can we get Karai in here please. Or April #my post #tmnt #dc #batman #batman vs tmnt #batfamily

[shyjusticewarrior]

#dc #dc comics #comics #comic books #comic pages #comic panels #my edits #i made this #character dynamics #jason and tim #batfam #batfamily #batkids #batsiblings #batbros #tim drake #robin #red robin #jason todd #red hood #knight terrors robin #tumblr text post #text posts #jason & tim #bat brothers #memes #hurt/comfort #found family

[jasmines-library]

I know i’ve already sent in a lot of requests, i practically live in your inbox(not sorry), but i just wanted to know if you could whip up some really angsty stuff?

Maybe something with reader being on patrol and she just randomly passes out and just won’t wake up again?

idk, i’m just craving your content😞🙏

Veins

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Note: Anything for you my love. Dont feel bad for sending them in, i smile everytime your name is in my inbox. sorry for the wait. :))

Warnings: Poison/drugging, passing out, needles, ivs but non graphic

Word Count: 1.3k

⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

There it was again. That funny feeling. You couldn’t quite place it, but it tickled the back of your mind. Physically, you felt fine. There was just something off about the whole night. Tim was running alongside you, the soles of his boots making little to no noise as he weaved nimbly down the street. Dick was slightly ahead; you were watching his six.The three of you were currently pursuing Poison Ivy, who royally pissed off, was threatening to release a batch of poisons into the water supply; naturally, it was your job to try and stop her before she could actually get there. Batman was also in pursuit, but he was coming from the other side of the city which meant that the chances of you and your brothers stopping Ivy before she got there were pretty high. 

You had almost caught up with Ivy when it happened. You could see her ahead, her torn clothes flapping against the winds that whipped between the skyscrapers and whistled down the alleyways. You pushed yourself to run faster, feeling the burn in your calves as you raced towards her auburn figure. You would have caught her if you didn’t catch a glimpse of one of her goons perched on a window ledge. It was dark, but you could practically see his crooked grin as he leered down at the three unsuspecting vigilantes. By the time you had realised what was actually happening, it was too late. 

The needle dug deep into your neck, with such a blunt force that you would have yelped if you didn’t have the sense to plaster your hand over your lips. It stung and would most certainly leave a bruise later. But what worried you was not, the soon to be bruise, but the groggy sensation that began to settle over you. 

Blindly reaching for the syringe, you pulled it from your neck with a grunt. It clattered to the floor. Everything seemed to swim before you in a mix of colours. It made you feel sick. And suddenly your body felt numb, stubborn limbs refusing to move how they normally would. You lurched forward stumbling and trying to grip onto the wall to keep yourself upright. It was hardly any use though; whatever they had stuck you with made it nearly impossible to tell which way was up as your world span. You had fallen behind, moving without a coherent thought as you tried to keep up with the speck that you thought was Tim. Everything was too loud, but you could make out no sounds, just a piercing ringing. 

“R’vn…” Someone was talking to you. You weren’t even aware you had stopped and hands swam in front of your face. Touching. Someone was touching you; their hands were against your shoulders trying to keep you upright. But who…

There was no face in front of you. Only a mangled mess of colours and an echo of your code name frantically falling from their lips. They were trying to get you to respond, to say anything but your eyes and glassed over and your limbs had fallen limp in against the stone wall you had been stumbling against. 

And then your body gave up completely.

Tim had to scramble to catch your body as you keeled over, ragdolling into his arms with limbs splayed out in each direction. He cursed, panicked and settled you down on the ground to stand over you. Wide eyed, he pressed the emergency signal on his coms, praying that Dick would get to you quickly and that Batman was close enough to catch Ivy. 

He tried your name again, shaking you by the shoulders. There was no response; your head just lolled to the side. It was then that he realised your body was hot. Far too hot. He struggled to get off his glove before pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. You didn’t even stir. 

“Son of a bitch.” Dick skidded to a stop beside his brother, palling at the sight of you on the ground. “What happened?”

“I-i don’t know. She was fine one minute and the next she practically collapsed against the wall-” Tim stuttered, unable to keep his composure. Usually, he was the one with the steady hand they could all rely on, but now he was completely short circuiting. 

With a curt nod, Dick tried to shake you awake, calling your name.

“I tried that.” Tim stated. 

Dick nearly snapped at his brother for making an irritating statement when he saw the lines spider-webbing up your neck. They were thin and black, spindling out like branches of a tree devoid of its leaves. Twisting your head gently to the side, Dick revealed it to Tim who swallowed thickly. 

“Drugged?” He asked meekly.

Dick shook his head. “Poisoned.”

Tim shifted his vision anxiously between Dick and you. His head perked up when something clattered off to their right. Dick was up in an instant, standing over you with his escrima sticks flickering with their angry blue charge. Tim reddied his bo staff.

“Go find them.” Nightwing ordered, standing over you protectively.  “I’ll watch her.”

Tim darted off for a moment as the older boy watched you with shifty eyes, hardly relaxing when he returned a few moments later. By that time you had begun sweating and your skin had grown clammy and gaunt .When he looked at him with optimistic eyes, the younger boy shook his head. 

“Nothing. But I did find this.” He produced a small syringe filled with a dark green liquid. The one you had pulled frantically from your neck.

“Good! That's good.” Dick exclaimed, taking a shaky breath. “We need to get her back to the cave. Page Alfred. Get him to prepare the infirmary.”

“On it.”

Sliding his hands under your body, he scooped up your limbs with ease. “Hang in there, kiddo.”

~

“Get her on the bed, quick.”

Alfred was on the two boys as soon as he heard the cave entrance fling open. Dick was sling clinging to you as he bustled through the door, hot on Tim’s heels who forced everyone out of the way. They all watched you with worried creases etched onto their complexions. 

Dick lay you down on the bed. As soon as he was out of the way Alfred was replacing the empty space beside you, inspecting the spread of the poison. It had now begun to crawl down your arms and up the side of your face. Your features seemed sunken and your heart rate was dangerously slow. 

He reached for a needle of his own, sliding it into your skin before hooking you up to an IV. 

“What’s that?” Tim asked. His voice wavered. 

“Hopefully an antidote and some fluids to flush it out of her system. Babs managed to analyse the sample you sent over. The poison is lethal, but because she managed to pull it out before the whole thing entered her system, we think this should help.”

“And if it doesn't?” Jason’s voice asked from where he had been lingering in the doorway.

“Let's hope it does.”

~

It took much longer than they had hoped for you to wake up, but nevertheless you did. Slowly but surely you cracked open your eyes and blinked at them groggily. It seemed that Alfred and Babs had been spot on; the antidote worked, but it made everyone nervous to think that if you hadn’t pulled out the toxin when you had, the situation could have been very different. Damian cringed at the thought. 

They had all been there when you woke up. They had been taking it in turns to watch you because they couldn;t bear the thought of you waking up alone, but when Jason called out that you were stirring they all rushed to your side to sit with you. 

It was nice to wake up with the all beside you, despite the fact that you felt like death. Probably because you had been so close to it. 

Ivy was arrested and sent to Arkham without much of a second thought.Batman had caught her before she managed to release the rest of her poisons. She had made an attempt on your life. It was safe to say that she deserved jail time for that, though there was no saying how long she was actually going to stay there for. 

The air was much lighter in the manor now that you were awake. You were still on bed rest for a short while, much to your protests and grumbling. But, luckily for you you were surrounded by a whole handful of people that wanted to do things for you that you didn’t even need help with. Not that you minded too much… Either way, they were there for you completely throughout your recovery, glad that you were going to be just fine.

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BATFAM TAGS

@aestheticdaisies @hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @mamapucket @hell-o-kittys @harleycao @batfamsstuff

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#batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #batfam #dc #dc x reader #Dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #nightwing #nightwing x reader #jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood #red hood x reader #tim drake #tim drake x reader #red robin #red robin x reader #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #robin #robin x reader #batman #alfred pennyworth #barbara gordon #barbara gordon oracle #oracle #drugging #poisoned #hurt/comfort #angst

[rad-batson]

Multiverse AU where different variants of Damian Wayne Al Ghul are accidentally hailed to one universe and Damian is in the middle, trying to get all of them back home, but it only gets worse and NOT for the reasons you would think.

So picture this: there’s a sea of Damian variants crowded into the Batcave. One’s a leader of the LOA. Another became the next Harley Quinn? One is a mute assassin. Another is Red Hood’s apprentice. One’s Batman. One’s a meta for some reason. Another is the leader of a revolution. One’s a monk. And another is a clone. They’re all somehow involved in vigilantism or the LOA.

And then there’s a completely normal one. He goes by Dami. He’s in college :) He works at an art studio. He’s got a heart condition. He has a boyfriend, and he has never been Robin before. In fact, he doesn’t even know his dad is Batman. So in a room full of wildly different versions, this Damian sticks out like a sore thumb. He’s like an NPC just standing in the middle of a final battle.

What he does know is that his mother, Talia, left the LOA with him when he was two because she fell in love with Bruce. Since then, the three have lived a Perfectly Normal Life as Perfectly Normal People in a moderately nice house in the suburbs of Gotham.

And you know what? No one questions it. Out of all the problems the Damians are having right now, Normal Damian is the least of them. So he just sits to the side, completely chill, and doesn’t interfere.

But then some chaos happens, the Damians are all sucked into a battle at some secondary location, Normal Dami is kidnapped, gets killed, and everyone’s super depressed about it. (Gosh, he was so nice. Why did it have to be him? Boo hoo. We didn’t even have time to recover the body.)

Until they head back to the cave…and there he is. Respawned. Alive. Confused.

He was literally dead on the floor two hours ago. They checked for a pulse! He bled out. Normal NPC Dami is supposed to be dead. But nope. He’s right there. “Hey, what happened? The last thing I remember is being tied up. Did I faint again?”

Everyone else, the whole batfamily and the mini Damian army, is like “wtf how’d you get here, buddy?” While he’s just like :) so Bruce, who put a bug on the security cameras or whatever, checks the footage and what he finds is absolutely horrifying.

Just after he died, Normal Dami’s eyes snapped open. Glowing a deep Lazarus Green. He stood up, walked out, and immediately fucking decimated the remaining group of kidnappers like a rabid animal. Literally anyone who got near him were goners, and Thank Sweet Jesus he didn’t run into anyone on the walk back because he didn’t care to clean off all that blood. Nope, he just walked right through the front doors of the manor, found a clean set of clothes, completely on autopilot, then all of the adrenaline wore off, and he collapsed from exhaustion.

So everyone watches the footage. NPC Damian is horrified. He insists that’s not him because he doesn’t kill people! How could they ever accuse him of killing people?! He has never done something like that. He can’t even walk up a flight of stairs without getting winded for Christ’s sake!

Nonetheless, he agrees to sit in their itty bitty holding cell as they do some fun little tests, and lo and behold: he is so genetically fucked up. Why? Because his DNA isn’t like the other Damians. It’s completely mutated by this green glowing substance that they know all too well.

The verdict? Normal Dami has been permanently mutated by the Lazarus Pit. The Lazarus Pit is inside of him. It IS him. Or maybe Normal NPC Damian is the Lazarus Pit.

When Normal Dami was two and he and Talia still lived with the LOA, there was an incident involving Damian drowning in the Lazarus Pit (à la Ra’s Al Ghul's Stellar Grand-Parenting Skills.) However, since he wasn’t dead, the Lazarus Pit devoured him, consumed him with violent pit madness, spat him back out, and Damian became this completely, unstoppably rage-filled toddler that can throw you over his shoulder and snap your neck. So Talia, terrified of what Ra’s would do with him, escaped to Gotham, found Bruce, begged for help, and they devised a plan.

Step 1: Raise Lazarus Damian as a completely normal kid.

Step 2: Take him to therapy. Maybe give him anger management classes. (Monitor his sugar intake. That couldn’t hurt.)

That was literally their whole plan. They had no other ideas ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Occasionally, he’d snap and kill someone in cold blood (whoopsie daisy) but his parents were an assassin and the world's greatest detective. No one’s gonna know.

Through some trial and error, they found out that abrupt adrenaline spikes were what triggered the madness. So they worked around it. They gave him calm, relaxing hobbies. They spoiled him with emotional support animals. They Never Raised Their Voices. He was homeschooled for a bit then introduced to university, but only AFTER they made sure Jon (the Indestructable Superboy) was his roommmate. (Yes, they told him. Yes, he is now part of the convoluted Keep Deadly Damian Relaxed Task Force. They’re also dating.) They got Damian a FitBit that tracked his heart rate so they could predict when his adrenaline spiked. They Life360’d his ass so fucking hard. Meanwhile, Damian just thought he had some kind of medical thing, none the wiser the entire time.

Long story short? “Chill Normal NPC Damian” Cannot Die. But he can Kill.

If he does “die” (the Lazarus Pit cannot die) then he goes into a murderous rage, kills everyone in sight, it wears off with the adrenaline, and he can’t remember what happened. This Damian is the Most Dangerous of the variants, and he doesn’t even know it because his parents decided that would be best.

And now the other Damians are scared of him, and he’s scared of himself, and no one knows why he's made of the Lazarus Pit, and they don’t know what to do with him, and they still don’t know how to get back, and some of them want to kill him, and some don't, but no one trusts him, including himself, and it becomes an all-out war over the fate of Damian.

Anyway, Normal Damian who's actually a Murderous Lazarus Spirit without even knowing it. Thank you :)

#he's so fucked up #lightly traumatizes my blorbo #damian wayne #npc damian's jon goes through so much grief trying to keep Damian safe but also feels so guilty over this massive secret #he knows Damian should know but he doesn't know how to tell him without hurting him and making him question their relationship #also think of npc damian's talia knowing that her choice to stay with the LOA is what caused Damian to become a lazarus monster #and for bruce there's the torture of knowing his child will always be a murderous rampaging spirit and you hate killing but can't stop it #fic ideas #batman #dc robin #damian al ghul #batfam #batfamily #dc universe #dc #robin damian #robin dc #lazarus pit #league of assassins #talia al ghul #bruce wayne #dc comics #jon kent #damijon #lazarus rage #multiverse au