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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 1 year

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Another Life

Father of Mine – Masterlist

disclaimer: i haven't written in like...a year. and i barely proof read this. so apologies if it's absolute shit. warning: a lot of dark themes, death, familial drama, overall depressing stuff

“What the hell is going on?” Y/N asked Dick as Alfred helped her take off her coat.

Jason was close behind her.

When Dick called Y/N in the middle of the night, he knew something terrible had happened. And he wasn’t about to let her go to the manor by herself.

“I’m sorry,” Dick immediately blurted out. “I didn’t have time to explain over the phone.”

Y/N swallowed. “What happened to him?”

‘Him’ being Bruce.

“He was hallucinating or something,” Dick explained quickly. “And he won’t snap out of it. But he kept saying your name over and over again.”

“So what the fuck can she do about it?” Jason snapped at him.

But Y/N gripped his arm, silently telling her boyfriend to calm down.

Dick also glared at him. “He kept saying he was sorry. I thought maybe if he saw you – saw that you were OK – then maybe he’d calm down.”

“Take me to him?” Y/N asked Dick carefully.

He nodded. “Follow me.”

Together, the three of them swiftly walked to Bruce’s bedroom. And Y/N suddenly realized she’d never been in there before. It always felt off limits. Bruce was such a private person, she figured she shouldn’t invade such a personal and intimate space.

It was cozier than Y/N expected. But that was probably Alfred’s doing. The man stressed about his master getting enough sleep that he had no choice but to design a bedroom that constantly tempted Bruce with comfort and rest.

Now Y/N stared at the sickly man that laid in bed and it felt like different person than the Bruce Wayne she had become so close with.

His face was pale and sweaty. His eyes were bloodshot. His hair was matted down from perspiration that wouldn’t stop gathering on his face.

Y/N took a small step toward her father and whispered, “Bruce?”

The sound of her calling his name seemed to snap him out of whatever daze he had just been in.

Bruce slowly sat up and looked at Y/N as if he didn’t fully believe he was seeing clearly.

“Y/N?” His voice shook.

“You said he couldn’t snap out of it,” Jason muttered quietly to Dick.

“He-He wasn’t. This is the most lucid he’s been.”

Y/N slowly stepped closer to the bed. “Bruce, can you tell me what happened to you?”

Jason’s instincts were going haywire. He blinked himself awake and quickly walked forward, holding out his arm to stop Y/N from going any further.

When Y/N glared up at him, Jason just said, “I don’t trust him when he doesn’t seem like himself. Better safe than sorry. Don’t get any closer.”

She knew Jason had a point, but that didn’t mean she liked it.

So, she turned her attention back to her father. “Bruce,” she called to him softly. “What happened? What can we do to help?”

But Bruce zoned out, trying to dig into his mind to properly answer the question.

“Was it a curse?” Dick asked.

Bruce snapped out of it when he heard the word ‘curse,’ and locked eyes with Dick.

“It was a sorcerer. Not a curse. Something else.”

“It looks like you had some sort of fever dream – but dialed up to a thousand,” Jason observed aloud.

“Not a fever dream,” Bruce corrected. “A vision.”

“Vision?” Dick and Y/N said in unison.

Bruce nodded as he stared into Y/N’s gaze. “If you and I had met sooner.”

Y/N’s brow wrinkled. “How much sooner?”

“As a child,” Bruce confirmed.

———

Bruce was pacing around the foyer.

Alfred watched from the doorway with his hands folded properly in front of him. “This is not the first time you have taken in a child, Master Wayne.”

Bruce stopped long enough to say, “This is…different.”

“Because she is your child?” Alfred challenged.

“Because she is my daughter,” Bruce snapped back. “A daughter that was kept a secret from me for 10 years.”

“Yes,” Alfred hummed. “But I think we both understand that it was probably best.”

“Not anymore,” Bruce argued. “Not when she’s being sent to live with a father she’s never known. And after her mother and grandparents were killed in a car crash that she miraculously survived.”

Before Alfred could respond, Bruce saw the cop car pull up.

“They’re here,” he muttered and then going to the main entrance before they could ring the doorbell.

Bruce walked onto the gravel of the front drive as the car pulled to a stop.

Detective Gordon stepped out of driver’s seat. Such an errand was below his payroll, but it appeared the man was good with kids – especially ones who’d gone through trauma.

“Mr. Wayne,” he greeted.

“Gordon,” Bruce nodded back. He suspected the man knew who he was in his other life, but it seemed neither of them would ever acknowledge it.

“Where is she?” Bruce asked when he saw no one else in Gordon’s car.

“Right,” Gordon nodded as if he was expecting the question. “I wanted to speak with you about that. She…uhh…isn’t speaking with anyone.”

Bruce frowned. “What do you mean?”

“She’s on her way with the social worker,” Gordon clarified. “But she hasn’t spoken a word to anyone – not doctors, paramedics, cops, nurses. No one.”

Bruce nodded, somehow understanding. “Right.”

“Docs say it’s selective mutism. Very common in children who have been through traumatic experiences.”

Bruce nodded again. But then his eyes narrowed. “Why are you here, Gordon?”

“Just making sure you’re up for this.”

“I’m her father.”

Gordon huffed. “That you are. But when a mother keeps her daughter a secret from her own father for 10 years, you can’t help but be concerned about why.”

Now Bruce was irritated. “And what about the two boys I’ve fostered and adopted? Does that count for nothing?”

“You and I both know this situation is different, Mr. Wayne.”

“Is it?” Bruce was so offended, that he saw himself contradicting the conversation he’d had with Alfred just moments ago. He was allowed to question himself as a father, but no one else was allowed to – apparently.

Suddenly another car pulled up.

“That’ll be Y/N with the social worker,” Gordon sighed.

He didn’t know what he expected to come from challenging Bruce Wayne. The man clearly had a soft spot for kids. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have taken in two boys. But much of Gotham found it a little strange for a billionaire playboy in his 20s to adopt not one, but two young boys.

Bruce’s heart raced when he saw Y/N step out of the car, gently guided by the social worker.

As soon as she saw Bruce, her entire body tensed. She stopped walking forward as soon as she reached Gordon and stepped into his side for protection.

Bruce slowly kneeled, hoping that getting on her level would make him less intimidating and more welcoming. “Hello, Y/N. I am so sorry for what happened to you. But we are happy and relieved to have you here.”

Y/N eyed him cautiously. She knew better than to trust a stranger.

But she then looked up at Gordon, waiting for his OK to do so.

Gordon kneeled too, and gently gripped her shoulders. “You are going to be OK here.” Then his hand went into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a card. “If anything happens or you just don’t feel safe here, you call me. OK, kiddo?”

Y/N nodded and hugged the card to her chest like a lifeline.

Then she continued forward, but walked right past Bruce without even so much as looking at him.

Bruce sighed.

And turned to find Alfred greeting her politely. “Hello, little miss. How about I show you to your room and you can get settled?”

Bruce should’ve expected this. After all, Dick wasn’t all that different when he first arrived to Wayne Manor. Not to mention Bruce could probably understand what Y/N was going through more than anyone else.

“All her things are in the trunk,” the social worker told Bruce.

“That’s it?” Bruce questioned when there were only a few boxes and two suitcases.

The social worker nodded and shrugged. “It was a small apartment.”

–––––––

“Is she here?! Is she here!?” Jason was jumping up and down when he burst into the manor after school.

Bruce sighed and shushed the boy with, “Calm down, Jaylad.”

Jason had been ecstatic at the prospect of another kid his age being at the manor – especially one that wasn’t raised rich like him.

“Where is she?” Jason asked as his eyes raced around the room, like he expected the girl to be glued to Bruce’s side.

Bruce kneeled down. “Jason, I think we’re going to have to give her some time. She’s not really…speaking with anyone.”

Jason frowned at the idea.

But then the boy’s eyes brightened at an idea. “Well…maybe she’s just scared! Maybe if I show her around and make sure she knows she’s safe here. Then-Then she’ll like it here.” He looked at Alfred for confirmation that it was a good idea, who gave him a patient but warm grin. “I was scared when I first got here, too. Remember?”

Bruce’s heart warmed and he nodded.

Jason was such a sweet boy.

Bruce took in a deep breath. “She went through something very traumatic, Jason. She wants her mom and she can’t have her. This is all very overwhelming for her, during a time that’s already scary. We just need to be patient and careful. OK?”

Jason seemed deflated, but nodded at Bruce before hanging his head a bit.

Alfred cleared his throat, “Master Jason, I could use some help with dinner. Do you think you have the time in your very busy schedule?”

That man knew exactly how to get the boy out of a funk.

–––––

Jason did as he was told and left Y/N alone. The manor was big enough that he hadn’t even seen her yet. But Bruce made him promise he wouldn’t go hunting for the girl, which Jason begrudgingly agreed to.

But a few days after Y/N’s arrival, Jason was sneaking around in the pantry, getting a snack. And as he tried to make his escape before being detected, he saw that the doors to one of the ballrooms was open.

‘Huh. That’s funny. Alfred usually doesn’t need to clean in there,’ he thought.

When he tiptoed to the opening, he was surprised by what he found.

Instead of seeing Alfred or a short-term maid cleaning out the ballroom for an upcoming event, Jason saw a girl.

She was laying in the dead center of the room, not her back. She was wearing a hoodie, which made her look even more out of place with the extravagant wood and ostentatious of the room. She had headphones in and a discern on the ground below her.

Clearly, she was listening to music as she stared up at the tall ceiling. It was hand-painted, like the ballroom was the Sistine Chapel.

Jason just watched her for a few minutes.

She didn’t move, didn’t bounce her knee or foot, or hum to the music. She just listened to the music and stared at the ceiling.

“H-Hi,” Jason finally found the courage to say.

It was quiet and he hadn’t even expected for her to hear him.

But as soon as he broke the silence, she shot up to her feet and turned to face him, looking like a terrified and cornered animal.

Jason held up his hands out of reflex alone. “Hey, hey, hey. It’s ok!” He blurted out.

But her eyes just widened even more as she ripped the headphones off her hears so they were sitting on her shoulders.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” Jason continued. “I just…wanted to say…ummm…hi, I guess.”

Y/N just stared at him.

She looked less scared now, but clearly uninterested in speaking with him.

“Still not talking, huh?” Jason sighed.

“Master Jason,” Alfred appeared around the corner. But he stopped whatever he was about to say when he saw the two children facing each other. Though Y/N was standing 15 yards away from them, in the middle of the ballroom.

“Why hello, little miss. Are you getting hungry?”

Y/N quickly shook her head.

“Are you sure?” Alfred asked, clearly worried about the child’s lack of appetite. “I just pulled some chocolate croissants out of the oven.”

Jason’s eyes lit up and looked back at her. “Oh, you have to try some. They’re amazing!”

But Y/N just looked at Jason weirdly before shaking her head at Alfred again.

Alfred sighed in disappointment. “Very well. You let me know when you are hungry, Ms. Y/N.” Then he turned his attention to Jason. “Come, Master Jason. Let us leave her alone.”

Once the both of them were out of sight, Y/N went back to her original position: laying in the middle of the ballroom, headphones on, and staring up at the ceiling.

“Why won’t she eat?” Jason asked quietly.

When he was on the streets, he was always hungry. Most of his energy was put into figuring out how to get his next meal. It was strange to see a kid deny food.

“I believe the manor is very overwhelming for her, Master Jason. And we are but strangers to her.” He patted Jason on the back. “But do not fret, I have been bringing trays up to her bedroom – and she’s been eating them thankfully. I do not think she feels comfortable eating with us quite yet.”

They arrived to find Bruce in the kitchen.

“I saw her!” Jason excitedly told him.

Bruce gave Alfred a worried look.

“She is in the ballroom, laying on the floor,” Alfred confirmed.

“Listening to music,” Jason added.

Bruce just nodded and looked at Alfred again. “I’ve been talking to Dr. Thompkins about making an appointment for her…”

“No!” Jason blurted out without meaning to.

“No?” Bruce questioned with a frown.

“I mean,” Jason looked at the two grownups nervously. “If you take her to a therapist, she’ll think we think there’s something wrong with her.”

Bruce sighed. “Well, there is something wrong. She’s grieving and she refuses to speak, Jason. We’re out of our depth here.”

“Just…wait a little bit. Please?” Jason looked up at Bruce with his big, innocent, blue eyes.

Bruce shared another look with Alfred.

“Alright, Jaylad. We’ll wait a bit longer,” Bruce sighed as he ruffled Jason’s hair.

————

Jason’s senses were good even before he became Robin. Living on the streets meant that he always had to be on high alert.

So when he was reading in the library at the manor, he felt someone watching him.

“You can come out, you know You don’t have to hide,” Jason quietly called out without taking his eyes off of his book.

A few seconds later, his gaze raised to see Y/N sneaking out from behind a shelf, hugging a book as if it was a lifeline.

Jason squinted as he tried to read the title. It was one of the Harry Potter books.

“Wanna read with me?” He asked gently.

Then he quickly added, “We don’t have to talk or anything! Just sit together and read our own books.”

Y/N watched him for a few minutes.

Jason went back to his reading, but all his senses were on her. He didn’t want to feel like he was pressuring her. So he went back to what he was doing and hoped he made it clear that he wasn’t forcing her to do anything.

Eventually, he heard the shy steps against the carpet as Y/N walked over and then grabbed the love seat that was across from him.

Just as promised, they didn’t speak. The two of them just read their books.

After a couple hours, Jason thought it was safe to talk.

“Just so you know…Bruce is a good guy. I know he can be kinda scary. But he would never do anything bad to you.”

Y/N’s body tensed as soon as Jason broke the silence.

“He doesn’t hurt kids.”

Her eyes finally snapped to Jason’s.

She couldn’t help but notice his unintentional emphasis on the word ‘kids’.

Jason sighed. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. But we can still play together, right?”

Y/N looked at him for a few seconds before she finally nodded.

Starting then, Bruce or Alfred would frequently find the two kids sitting in the library, silently reading their own books, but sitting shoulder to shoulder on the couch. Then it moved onto playing hide and seek on the great lawn. Or the two of them racing bikes just outside the gates of the manor.

Bruce and Alfred were happy to see Y/N having fun and being more comfortable with them. But Y/N still didn’t talk.

And she didn’t seem to like being alone in a room with Bruce. She ignored him most of the time. But she would avoid a room if only he was in it.

Bruce’s guess was that she didn’t trust a man that her mother tried so hard to keep a secret. Surely there was a reason, and Bruce could only assume that Y/N believed it to be bad.

————

Y/N still stayed silent. But it seemed she formed an unspoken language with Jason.

And therefore Jason sometimes felt the need to act as her translator.

“Alfred, Y/N’s not feeling well today. I don’t think she should go to school.”

“Y/N doesn’t like peas, Bruce. Don’t give her so many.”

“Y/N isn’t a fan of scary movies. We shouldn’t watch them for family movie night.”

Bruce was glad Jason had formed a bond with his daughter. Most days, Bruce was convinced that he would never have any sort of breakthrough with Y/N.

However, things seemed to have changed on one fateful day.

Y/N and Jason were sword fighting with sticks in the forest on the manor grounds when Jason tripped backwards. It wouldn’t have been a big deal if that was it. But the boy just so happened to fall on top of something that broke with his weight.

Y/N rushed forward to see that Jason had fallen into some sort of sink hole. It couldn’t have been less than six feet deep – far too much height for Jason to get out of on his own.

Not that he could, though.

When Y/N looked down, Jason was either unconscious or dead.

“JASON!” Y/N shrieked, but the boy didn’t move.

Next thing Y/N knew, she was sprinting as fast as she could back to the manor.

“Bruce! Bruce! Alfred!” Her screaming echoed.

Bruce came running from his office. His eyes were wide with distress at both hearing his daughter’s voice for the first time, and hearing the obvious fear and panic in it.

He found Y/N sobbing in the entryway.

“Y/N? What is it? What’s going on?”

“J-Jason f-fell,” she struggled to say through her crying. “But-But he won’t wake up!”

Bruce kneeled and gently gripped Y/N’s shoulders. “Y/N, I need you to show me exactly where he is. Alright?”

Y/N nodded.

Alfred suddenly joined them.

Bruce turned to him. “Alfred, call an ambulance.”

Y/N grabbed Bruce’s hand and dragged him out the door. “Hurry. We can’t leave him!”

Bruce let his daughter drag him through the woods on the property.

She stopped and held up a shaky finger as she pointed down at the hole that Bruce couldn’t see into yet.

He carefully stepped forward to see Jason lay at the bottom with his eyes closed.

“Please help him, Bruce.”

He nodded and rolled up his sleeves before climbed down. “Y/N, please go stand by that tree. Wait there.”

Y/N rushed to do what he said, thinking that it would get Bruce to Jason faster.

The hole was wide and deep enough to make it impossible for Jason to get out on his own, but not for a grown man – and definitely not for Batman.

It only took a few minutes for Bruce to emerge from the hole with Jason in his arms.

Y/N took half a step towards them, but then stopped.

“Is he…Is he…?” Her voice was trembling as she failed to ask her question.

“He just unconscious,” Bruce assured her. “I think he may have broken his collarbone. But he’ll be alright, Y/N.”

Y/N looked at Bruce as if she didn’t believe him.

Bruce stepped closer to his daughter. “Y/N, I promise he’s OK.”

She finally nodded.

After Jason got back from the hospital in a cast, Bruce found that Y/N had snuck into Jason’s bed with him that night.

———

Bruce was hopeful that the incident would completely break Y/N of her mutism. But it seemed she still had no desire to speak to most people. She would sometimes say a couple of words to them at a time. But it was far from an actual conversation.

However, Bruce still saw that as somewhat of a success.

For the first time since Y/N had arrived, there finally seemed to be some sort of an improvement.

He saw Y/N smile and laugh.

Jason was clearly her favorite, but she didn’t seem to mind Dick when he graced them with his presence.

Y/N had been living with them for over two years when Alfred finally broached the subject that Bruce knew was inevitable.

Alfred was patching him up after a rough night. They were in the pain, surrounded by bloody gauze. Meanwhile, Y/N was peacefully asleep a few floors above them. And Jason was in the kitchen, getting a snack after joining Bruce on patrol.

“When do you plan on telling her, Master Wayne?”

Bruce played dumb. “Tell who what?”

Alfred tugged a stitch too roughly – clearly doing it on purpose. But he didn’t clarify, knowing Bruce was fully aware of what he was asking about.

“I can’t,” Bruce finally sighed.

“And why is that? Master Jason and Richard are well aware.”

“You know it’s different with her.”

“I’m not sure it is, Master Bruce.”

He frowned. “She’s already scared of me. And I hate it. How do you think she’ll see her father if she finds out he’s Batman?”

“She will just simply need more time to adjust,” Alfred suggested as he snipped the thread, finishing his final round of stitches. “And perhaps it’s the wall you’ve put between you two that makes her so weary.”

Bruce hadn’t thought of it that way.

“I’ll think about it,” he finally answered.

And Alfred knew that was as good as he was going to get for tonight.

———

But any plans of Bruce considering telling Y/N the family secret were lost.

Because they were too busy handling the death of Jason.

And Bruce had to lie to Y/N about how it all happened.

“Why couldn’t I go on the vacation with you two?” Y/N had nearly snarled.

Bruce figured she was convinced that if she had been there, she could’ve saved Jason.

When Jason had gone racing after his mother, Bruce had to race after him, too. He and Alfred thought it was best to come up with a lie. They’d never had to deal with Jason going rouge like that before.

“I promised him it would just be the two of us,” Bruce lied.

“I hate you,” Y/N finally hissed. “I’ve always hated you.”

Bruce leaned back, not expecting such an outburst.

This was the most Y/N had ever said to him since knowing each other.

“Y/N,” he sighed, not knowing what else to say to comfort her in this moment.

“I HATE YOU!” Y/N screamed it now.

And she had never raised her voice. It was all the opposite now.

Y/N looked at the fine china Alfred at placed near them before the conversation started. A tea pot, milk, sugar, and two tea cups. None of it had been touched by either of them.

“I hate this house!” She picked up one of the tea cups and chucked it at the wall behind Bruce, watching the china shatter.

Next she took the rest of the tray and tipped it so the rest of it shattered to the hardwood floor. The teapot shattered, washing dark tea cross the ground.

“Did you hear me!?” She yelled at him. “I. Hate. You.”

Bruce just stood and watched the tantrum. He refused to reprimand her. How could he?

“I hate you!” Y/N yelled again, clearly waiting for him to show some sort of response.

The she tried to shove him, but her tiny body was nothing against Bruce’s tall and muscular frame.

But she tried again.

When he still didn’t budge, she started pounding her fists against his torso. Tears started falling down her face in rivers.

“I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!”

Bruce finally snapped out of it, suddenly scared she was going to hurt herself. So he held her wrists firmly, keeping them in place. Which just made Y/N start to struggle to get out of his grip.

“Don’t touch me!”

“I know,” Bruce finally whimpered. “I know you hate me. I know you’ve always hated me.”

Y/N finally stepped away and he let her go, seeing that she was done trying to beat him.

“I wish it was you,” she whispered. “I wish you had died in that car instead of mom. Then we never would’ve met. And I wish it was you that died. Not Jason.”

Bruce just blinked.

With that, Y/N turned and sprinted to her bedroom, slamming in the door loud enough that Bruce could hear it from the den.

————

After Jason’s tragic death, a part of Bruce’s heart died and he would never get it back. But with his shattered heart, grew a new panic that he couldn’t protect anyone.

And instead of telling Y/N the truth about his double life – the double life that got Jason killed – he promised himself that he would never let Y/N know.

But the only way to ensure that, was to send her far away.

“Boarding school?” Y/N growled. “In Switzerland?”

“It’s one of the top schools in the world.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” Y/N said.

She was only 13, but it didn’t stop her from using profanities at Bruce any time she had the chance.

Her gaze snapped to Alfred for a millisecond, seeing if he’d be the one to scold her for using such foul language. But the butler simply looked at her, knowing she was looking for a fight with anyone and everyone these days.

“Guess it’s a good thing,” Y/N mumbled, shocking both the men. “You couldn’t keep Jason alive. Might as well send me away to make sure I’m not next.”

“Ms. Y/N, that is enough,” Alfred finally spoke.

He didn’t snap, but the finality of the discussion was still there.

“Should probably go pack anyway,” she hissed in response.

The next morning, Y/N didn’t even look at Bruce as she walked out the door carrying a couple bags. She refused to let anyone other than Alfred drive her to the airport.

Y/N offered Bruce no goodbye or even one last parting look.

He didn’t exist to her.

———

For the next years, Y/N never called. Bruce wouldn’t even know if she was alive if he didn’t call the school once a week to get a report.

Y/N didn’t even return to Gotham for holidays. Instead, she went home with any friend from school, preferring to hang out with someone else’s family than her own. Alfred had to basically beg Y/N to come back for the annual three-month summer break. And when she did, she was out god knows where all night and slept all day.

Bruce had followed her a few times. Well, Batman followed her. She was out with friends drinking or at a BatBurger or at a house party or sneaking into clubs that she was far too young to be at. But Y/N was Gotham’s princess, the long-lost daughter of Bruce Wayne. She just had to smile and show her ID and clubs would get her a table.

But then there was one night that Bruce hadn’t been following his daughter…and he saw something he wasn’t meant to.

Bruce had been patrolling, following a lead.

He didn’t expect to see Y/N getting handed a small backpack in exchange for a bag of what he could assume was money.

Bruce recognized the man immediately. He worked for the Penitente Cartel. One of the lower-level thugs who mostly managed the dealers on the street.

Y/N could hate him all she wanted. She could ice him out, ignore him, pretend she wasn’t a Wayne. But Bruce drew the line at her dealing and getting herself into the shit that he was trying to end in Gotham.

It was 9 in the morning when Bruce burst into Y/N’s bedroom.

She was passed out in an oversized t-shirt and grey sweatpants.

Y/N was 17 now and looked more like a young woman than a teenager or child. And that made Bruce even more nervous about her activities.

She jumped in fear at the disruption, sitting up straight in her giant bed.

Bruce had never invaded her space before and she was clearly shocked by it.

“Get out,” Y/N hissed.

But Bruce ignored her and started searching through her bedroom to find the bag he saw her get handed last night.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing,” Y/N snapped as she jumped out of bed.

But as soon as she was off the bed, Bruce lifted the mattress as if it weighed nothing and spotted the black backpack.

Bruce turned to her, shoving the backpack in her face. “What is this?”

Y/N tried to grab it from him, but Bruce wasn’t having it.

“Give it back,” Y/N growled.

“So you’re dealing drugs now?” Bruce asked. “That’s your new angle for trying to get back at me.”

“Oh, please.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “As if I give enough of a fuck about you to even put an effort into pissing you off. I’m not dealing.”

“So you just planned on using $100,000 worth of drugs?” Bruce challenged.

Y/N actually laughed in his face. “It’s discounted. Sometimes using your stupid family name gets me a favor. I pay half of what it’s worth and charge those stupid brats at school twice as much.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes. “As if you need the money.”

“It’s my money,” Y/N growled. “That I earn myself. And you can’t track it.”

“Planning on running away?”

“It’s not running away if I’m 18,” she told him, matter of factly.

“You want to move out of here and never speak to me again when you’re 18? Fine. It’s not as if I’ve ever threatened to cut you off. But I will draw the line at you getting involved with cartels.”

Bruce couldn’t tell what made Y/N angrier: the fact that he knew exactly where she got her drugs or the fact that he wasn’t pushing back like he clearly wanted.

Then he saw Y/N’s eyes suddenly darken, as if something snapped within her.

Y/N stepped closer to Bruce slowly. It made him tighten his grip on the backpack.

“Did you see me during your little patrols in your stupid costume?”

Bruce’s eyes widened, a rare slip of showing a reaction. But he couldn’t stop it.

And he could tell he’d given Y/N exactly the reaction she wanted – shock, panic, fear – because she gave laughed darkly in his face.

“I always knew you thought I was stupid,” she continued. “But did you honestly think I could live in the same house as Batman and not figure it out.”

Bruce’s heart was racing. “How…How long have you known?”

Y/N scoffed. Of course that’s what he would zero in on. “A year or so after I moved here.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” She snapped back.

Bruce was silent, processing every interaction he’d ever had with his daughter and seeing in through the new lens. She knew. She knew almost all along.

But Y/N wasn’t done hurting Bruce yet. “Jason didn’t die that night. Robin did.”

Suddenly, she seemed done with the conversation and started moving around the room.

“What are you doing?” Bruce asked.

“Leaving.”

“No, you are not. You are still a kid. My kid. And I–”

“Oh, yeah?” Y/N cut him off. “How am I your kid? Huh? Besides sharing you’re DNA, there is nothing between us. I hated you then and I hate you now even more.”

Bruce’s next words were even and slow, “You are not leaving this house, Y/N.”

Y/N stopped packing and walked to him again. “You are going to let me do whatever the fuck I want, whenever I want. And you know why? Because if you don’t, I’ll tell the world their beloved Bruce Wayne is Batman.”

Bruce just stared his daughter down.

And somehow he understood that it was not an empty threat. She would do it.

Y/N seemed pleased with silence and finished up her packing.

She approached Bruce one last time with a warning look before shifting her gaze to the bag of drugs he was holding. She snatched it from his hands, and he let her.

“Stop pretending like you’ll miss me,” she called over her shoulder. “You sent me away the first chance you got.”

“I sent you away because I was terrified that you would be next,” Bruce muttered just as she reached the door. “You already knew I was Batman. How long would it have taken for you to make your way down the same path?”

Y/N had frozen in place to listen, but refused to turn around.

After a few moments, she turned ever so slightly so he could hear her say, “The idea of me becoming one of you was so terrible, that you made me this way instead.”

With that, she left the manor.

———

Bruce didn’t see Y/N for months. He always knew where she was, tracking every relocation she did. But she never checked in again, never came back to the manor. Now, she wasn’t even answering Alfred’s calls. Dick tried to reason with her, but had only snarled at him to leave her alone.

It was another night in Gotham.

The signal had only been in the air for 5 minutes and Batman was on his way, screaming through the streets in his vehicle.

He found Gordon waiting outside a the Iceberg Lounge, surrounded by dozens of Gotham PD. It only took a few seconds for Bruce to see that the group was struggling to keep it together.

“What happened?” Bruce asked with his Batman voice.

Gordon seemed to be failing to find words. His head was bowed and he couldn’t find the courage to meet Batman’s waiting gaze.

Finally, he lifted his head and looked at his cops. “Tell everyone to clear the scene.”

A younger cop spoke up. “But we’re still–”

“That’s an order. Clear the area.”

Batman tensed. Out of all the years of working with Gordon, he’d never done something like this before. He had never feared the gaze of Batman, never shied away from explaining the disturbing crime scenes they were about to study together.

But when they walked into the lounge, Bruce understood.

The usual colorful strobe lights were off, replaced by the bright fluorescents that were only on after hours when the cleaning crew was working.

And they lit the bodies perfectly.

Dead bodies.

Everywhere.

Sprawled across each other. Blood from one person staining the clothes of another.

And then Bruce saw her.

And he finally understood Gordon’s strange behavior.

There Y/N laid, her lifeless eyes staring up at the ceiling of the club. There were three bullet holes in her chest.

Bruce had always suspected that Gordon knew the truth, knew who he was behind the mask. And those suspicions were finally confirmed.

Gordon was bringing Batman in here alone because he knew that Y/N was his daughter.

But Bruce was silent.

There was a ringing in his ear, making it hard for him to process the crime scene like he usually did so naturally.

“It was a fight between gangs,” Gordon explained. “The crossfire…it…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. He couldn’t find it in him to politely explain that Y/N Wayne was just collateral damage in a petty turf war.

Batman said nothing.

His gaze hadn’t moved from Y/N.

“I’ll give you a moment alone.”

Bruce was trembling the moment he was alone.

He heard someone drop to the ground behind him. He turned to find Dick in his Nightwing uniform, eyes already wide with horror as they stared at Y/N’s dead body.

“No,” Dick gasped. “No, no, no.”

Then Dick was rushing forward, crying over Y/N.

After a minutes of silent tears, Dick looked up at Bruce. “We can’t leave her here.”

But Bruce was shaking his head already. “We have to.”

“No, we don’t.”

“Every police officer has already seen her. What will they think if they put together that Batman took Y/N Wayne’s body from a crime scene?”

Dick knew he was right. But he hated it. Absolutely hated it.

Before he let Bruce drag him out of the club, Dick silently cried over Y/N’s body, clutching her hand as if it could bring him any comfort.

———-

“How did it end?” Y/N asked in a whisper.

As Bruce told the story – their alternate timeline, their lives in a parallel universe – Jason had moved closer and closer to Y/N. Her body got stiff and her skin lost some of it’s color.

Bruce didn’t answer Y/N’s question.

“Bruce,” she pushed, a tiny bit louder.

“Jason,” he finally stated.

Y/N looked at her boyfriend, but he was glaring at Bruce.

“Jason killed me,” Bruce clarified.

“Because of the Joker?” Jason asked.

Bruce shook his head. “Because of what happened to Y/N.”

Jason tensed at the realization.

Bruce continued with, “Instead of hating me for not seeking revenge with the Joker, Jason hated me for not protecting Y/N.”

She looked to Jason again, but he wouldn’t meet her gaze. Because Jason could completely see himself – another self – doing such a thing. If it was Y/N, even if they weren’t involved like they were in this life, Jason would despise Bruce more from that than for never killing the Joker.

“What they showed you,” Y/N began, “Is there any sort of permanent damage? Will you be OK?”

“I’ll be fine,” Bruce answered roughly and far too quickly.

“I called in a favor with Constantine. He should be here tomorrow afternoon,” Dick chimed in. “Better safe than sorry.”

“What Master Wayne needs is some rest,” Alfred appeared behind them.

Jason, Dick, and Y/N whipped around to see the butler’s disapproving look. But they all nodded, understanding that Alfred always knew best.

“I’m gonna go for a drive,” Jason suddenly muttered. And he bolted out of the room. “I’m takin’ one of the bikes,” he called over his shoulder.

“As long as it’s not mine,” Dick called after him.

Y/N was taken aback by Jason’s abrupt departure. But clearly he needed to think.

After Bruce finished his story, Jason clearly couldn’t look at her.

Leave it to Jason to be guilty about not protecting her – even when it was an alternate universe that he wasn’t a part of.

“Hungry?” Dick asked Y/N with a heavy sigh.

She just nodded, knowing she wasn’t hungry, but agreeing to go with Dick to the kitchen anyway because she wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon.

Y/N picked at the leftovers Dick heated up for her. He knew better than to try and actually cook for her. And both of them didn’t want Alfred to stress himself with making them food with everything going on.

“You OK?” Dick asked after he could no longer handle watching her push her food around.

“I don’t know. How is one supposed to feel after finding out about an alternate timeline of their life?”

She wasn’t being sarcastic or snapping. Her confusion was genuine.

Dick smirked. “Believe it or not, getting involved with alternate dimensions isn’t all that rare in our line of work.”

“How do you keep it from driving you insane?”

Dick sighed. “No matter what happened to me in other worlds – or I should say is happening – I guess I always end up at the same place: There’s versions of me that have it better, but there’s also versions of me that have it way worse. I can’t fix them or copy them. All I can do is appreciate what I have here – right here. And be grateful I’m not living in one of those worst versions.”

Y/N gave Dick a shy and sad smile, knowing Dick had figured it all out.

“The thing is,” she began, “I can see myself hating him so easily. Had things gone that way, there’s not a doubt in my mind that the two of us would’ve never solved our issues.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t say this,” Dick winced, “But it’s good you found this family when you did.”

“I think you’re right,” Y/N admitted with a slow nod.

Suddenly Alfred came out from the kitchen with two large mugs in his hands, then softly placing one in front of each of them.

Dick whistled lowly. “Alfred’s famous hot chocolate. How lucky are we.”

“Alfred, you shouldn’t be worrying yourself about us. You should be getting rest, just like Bruce.”

“Y/N, you should know by now that rest is hardly found in this manor,” Alfred answered. “But I will be retiring to my room. Be sure to wake me if anything changes.”

“Night, Alfred.” The two of them said in unison.

“I swear, this hot chocolate has some sort of magic.”

Y/N eyed it, noting the ridiculous amount of marshmallows in it and how the smell alone had her salivating. She could tell immediately this was no standard, powdered crap.

“I’m worried about Jason,” she finally confessed.

Dick squeezed Y/N’s shoulder. “You know how he is…just gotta give him some time to sort out what he’s actually feeling.”

Y/N nodded, knowing he was right.

“Jason is fiercely protective. And knowing the people he loves were hurt in another dimension? He still takes it as personal failure.”

“I’m gonna wait up for him in the den,” Y/N sighed.

“Want company?” Dick asked.

But she was expecting the offer and shook her head before he even got the two-word question out. “No. Thank you, but go to sleep, Dick.”

He softly rubbed her back as he stood up.

Y/N went to the den with the rest of her hot chocolate and put on some random movie to zone out to while she waited for her boyfriend.

It wasn’t until an hour later that she heard the motorcycle return.

Jason was walking steadily until he passed the doorway of the den, clearly not expecting to find his girlfriend awake and waiting for him.

“Hey,” Y/N greeted ever so softly.

“Hey,” Jason mimicked back as he walked into the room.

“Wanna talk about it?” Y/N asked.

“I shouldn’t have left like that.” He was gearing up for an apology.

Y/N shrugged. “You needed some space to think. I get it.”

“No, it was selfish. I should’ve stayed with you.”

“But I’m fine,” she tried to tell him.

“Are you?” He challenged her.

“Am I supposed to crawl into a ball and cry my eyes out because there’s a universe out there where my life turned into a dumpster fire?”

“You know that’s not what I meant, Y/N.” Then he was sitting next to her on the couch, pulling her onto his lap. “I’m just telling you that you’re allowed to be upset after hearing crazy shit like that…”

Y/N didn’t fight the movement, but tucked herself against his body, inhaling his scent and finding comfort in his abnormal body heat.

“Dick thinks you’re feeling guilty because you couldn’t stop it…”

She felt his body tense at the assumption.

“You know I’d rather die then admit that Dick was right about something…”

Y/N giggled at his response and lifted her head to look at him.

But then her face slowly dropped to serious. “You can’t save me in every universe, Jason.”

“I don’t need reminding,” Jason answered curtly before his teeth ground and his jaw clenched.

Y/N grabbed his face between her hands, tracing the bottom of his strong jawline. “Jason, saving me in one world is more than enough. Don’t torture yourself more than you already do.”

But she saw that he was still not convinced.

“You’re enough, Jason. And you don’t need to be my hero in every universe. This one’s just fine.”

His eyes glazed over with tears, but he forbid them to escape.

He slowly nods, finally.

“It hurts. Even with me holding you right now, it hurts to think that there’s a you somewhere that needed my help, but I wasn’t there.”

“I know,” Y/N coos.

“But Dick had a good point: we can’t go crazy thinking about the other versions of us doing better or worse.”

“When did he get so wise?” Jason mumbled, clearly annoyed that he couldn’t help but admit that Dick saw reason where he didn’t.

“I promise I won’t tell him you said that,” Y/N giggled lightly.

A silence settled between them as they continued to cuddle on the couch.

“You’re worried about Bruce, huh?” Jason finally asked after a few minutes.

He knew that’s why she wasn’t as freaked out about what she’d heard. If the people she loved were in danger or hurting, she pushed all her own needs and thoughts and feelings completely to the side.

“Yeah,” she admitted.

“He’ll be fine,” Jason assured her. “The bastards been through shit a hundred times worse than this. He was worried about you. But now that he saw you, he’ll pull himself together.”

“I know you’re right. But my worry is taking over my brain and it’s hard to be logical.”

Jason kissed the top of her head and managed to hold her even tighter.

Another few minutes passed.

“Hey, Jason?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m glad I get this version of you.”

“I’m the luckiest fuckin’ bastard to get any version of you.”

––––––––––––

Honestly, can't believe I just wrote something and published it. This has been saved on my computer, halfway done, for like months and months. I teased it a long time ago. So if anyone was ever actually waiting for it, hope it was worth the wait.

#father of mine #father of mine universe #jason todd x reader #dad!bruce wayne #batdad #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #batfam #batboys #father!bruce wayne #red hood x reader #dad!batman #batman #bruce wayne #batman reader insert #jason todd reader insert

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currymariana · 4 days

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GUYS, I' AM BACK!!!!

Actually, I never left; I just struggled to find the motivation to write again. I was feeling unhappy with my writing style and constantly comparing myself to others, thinking things like "they're so much better than me" or "that's how you should write" or "you suck," and those kinds of things. I wasn't frustrated with my story, but with how I wrote it.

But after a while, I realized a few things: English isn't my first language (heck, it's not even my third); I'm not a professional writer; this is just a hobby, and if there are people who enjoy it, it can't be all that bad. I was being too hard on myself for no good reason. 'The tear in my heart' is a story I've had in mind for a long time, and I wish to share it with anyone who's interested. I've every bullet point mapped out from the beginning to the end; now, I just need to shake off my laziness and self-criticism and actually write it. And I don't even know if people are still interested.

With that being said, I've decided to make some changes. From now on, I'll be rebranding the entire aesthetic of the story, possibly even reconsidering the title (it started to sound a bit tacky to me - but i would like to hear your opinions) and updating th cover too. I'll be changing some scenes just to ease my mind, but these won't alter the storyline at all.

I don't even know if anyone is even reading this; or if it matters to you. Yet I'm writing this for myself and perhaps help someone going through a similiar thing. Don't be too hash on yourself; this is meant to be enjoyable, so embrace the fun. If you want to write a cheesy story or a serious one, follow your heart. We're not earning from this; we are fans who write fiction (or make arts) for others fans. If it's not fun anymore, it's okay to let it go. We're not flawless, and neither are our content. But do what's best for yourself —I extend this advice to writers, artists, and all who engage with this form of expression.

I'm sorry for the lengthy text, but I felt it was necessary only to express myself but also to explain and express my gratitude to everyone who enjoys or has ever appreciated "The Tear in My Heart." You guys are absolutely the best; thank you for everything. And for those still here... I hope you'll enjoy this new phase.

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stressedoutcanary · 2 years

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I Don’t Want To Know What It's Like (To Live Without You)

Bruce Wayne x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Explicit Language, Non-graphic mentions of Injuries and blood (Canon typical)

A/N: Look who decided to finally rise from the grave and write a hurt/comfort fic that is more comfort than anything else really.

I wrote it while obsessing over Ruelle's The Other Side but it's not as bad as the title makes it sound. Bruce just has poor self preservation skills that's all. Also fyi Reader is a magic user partially based on one of my ocs <3

•°•°•°•°

“If I didn’t know you any better Missus Wayne, I’d accuse you of trying to get me naked.”

That earned him a well deserved smack on the back of his head. With a half heated glare she snapped her fingers finally getting rid of the blood soaked Kevlar, the cracked cowl and the barely intact cape that he was in. She had seen him being much, much worse off than this. It was true. It was. That didn’t make the amount of torn and bruised skin any less nauseating to see.

“You and your blatant god-awful flirting”, she muttered under her breath, her brows creasing as her tongue clicked in open disagreement of what she saw in front of her.

While she was busy mentally cataloging the wounds that needed most immediate of her attention, Bruce craned his neck as far back as he physically could from where he was sitting on the cot and as he had expected, the entirety of his suit from the waist up which had disappeared with a whoosh, reappeared, not a second later in the bin at the far corner of the med bay. Turning back he shot one of his eyebrows up in a silent question.

“What? It’s not like you were helping me take that hunk of a suit off.”

She shrugged. Bending her elbows she brought both of her palms out towards his torso, stretching out in what little space was between them.

“I’ll be careful he said, don’t you worry he said.”

“(Y/N)…”

“Babe do us both a favor; shut up and for the God’s sake stop. moving.” She snapped even as willed herself to get to work. A part of her worried that her magic would hide behind the sheer intensity of her emotions she felt, while another part dreaded a worse outcome; lashing out uninhibitedly; God knows the simmering rage she felt deep down within was more than enough to catalyst that.

‘Your husband is in front of you. He needs you right now. There’s no threat here. He is in the cave now. He is home. So get yourself together and calm the fuck down for fuck’s sake.’

Obscuring her inner turmoil, she stole a glance up towards Bruce’s face. He had his eyes closed and the progressing relief being reflected on his face did wonders in draining out the tension lingering in her shoulders. The bastard though, chose that exact moment to crack open one of his eyelids, an amused smile making its way on to his face.

“Don’t. even.” She narrowed her eyes, fixing him a pointed look that all but said ‘I will happily throw your ass on the floor if you even try to voice your thoughts’

His jaw snapped close, relenting from making any teasing commentary residing on the tip of his tongue. He could feel how the fuzziness in his head started to dissipate and in its place came bone deep warmth. The kind one would get from a long hot shower after a good two hour workout. He sighed contentedly. With her he didn’t need to hide how he felt, be it pain or love, sorrow or happiness and everything else falling in between. He knew just how vulnerable that made him, especially for a person like him yet he could never ask or want for it to be any other way.

He watched her twirl her wrists with a practiced ease not known to many but came to her as a second nature, her palms engulfing in a vivid periwinkle aura that was all too familiar to him by now.

‘Home. It feels like home’, he’d told Diana once when she’d asked him. The answer was nothing short of confusing, but that was the closest he could come to describing it without stumbling over the words he was sure would never ever do justice to his lover; from the wisps of magic that often clung to her fingertips that gave her an otherworldly glow to the overflowing well of power deep within her.

His silent admiration came to a halt when he observed tiny beads of sweat starting to roll down her forehead as she continued pouring every ounce of her power into healing the bleeding flesh, desperately trying to knit everything back together as soon as possible; torn tissue, broken bones and all. Unable to keep the downward tug of her lips any longer, she continued to hover her hands over him, graceful yet frantic on the edge, fingertips ghosting over the bruised skin, barely touching so as to not upset the wounds further. She was getting more and more upset as she kept finding injury after injury which she could’ve sworn wasn’t there a minute ago.

“My love, you’re exhausting yourself”, there was no judgment in his voice, only an unwavering concern. He was stating a fact, something that she was made well aware of by her own body, every passing second.

Gritting her teeth she pushed through the waves of tiredness creeping in on her. ‘Just a little more’ she kept telling herself; kept repeating it like a mantra until she felt two warm and calloused hands firmly wrap around her wrists gently guiding them down from their outstretched position.

Bruce lifted one of his to cup her cheek, thumb soothingly running along the expanse of her cheekbone, “Can you open your eyes for me beautiful?”, he whispered guiding his other hand which was still holding one of hers up towards his lips, pressing a soft kiss to each of her knuckles.

‘Her eyes were closed? When did that even happen?’

It took her longer than she’d like to admit, for the question to properly register in her brain and she cracked her eyelids open, meeting with a thankfully less bloody version of her husband.

“There you are sweetheart”

She hummed, stepping closer so as to stand in between Bruce’s open thighs, leaving little to no space between the two. She bent her neck down to rest her forehead against his, breathing out heavily.

‘Showered with three endearments in a row, exactly how pathetic do I look’, she thought to herself, but a deep rumble of laughter vibrating through the man in front of her, told her she had managed to say it out loud. That and the words “Not as pathetic as I do” that soon followed as the laughter subsided, leaving a broad grin in its place. She separated just even to shoot him a glare, but went back willingly when he tugged her towards him with a hand on each of her thighs, silently urging her to straddle him.

“I do wish for you to be more careful you know, that’s all I ask from you, that’s all I will ever ask from you Bruce”, she whispered, after what felt like an eternity, not wishing to break the comfortably quite atmosphere of the med-bay.

He waited for her to make herself comfortable, hands settling on her hips before diving in for a deep kiss full of love, care and reassurance. When they finally came up gasping from the lack of oxygen, (Y/N) opted to rest her head against his chest feeling its steady rise and fall and along with thump of his heartbeat. She carded her hands through the locks of his matted hair, occasionally scraping her nails through his scalp with just the right amount of pressure.

•°•°

“I know and I understand that.”

“I don’t think that you do”, her voice went hoarse. She lifted her head and met his steady gaze. Bruce could say for certain any torture inflicted upon him would have been better than looking at the unshed tears in her eyes. Hell, he would much rather have Bane break his back again than to ever be the cause for such pain for the love of his life.

“Every time you come home bloody and broken beyond imagination, on the literal brink of death and I have to heal you myself I wonder whether it’ll be enough, whether this one would be the one time where you slip so far away from me that I won’t be able to pull you back. What if one day you need my help and I am all drained out, I barely held myself together we both saw that”, she scoffed “I don’t think you understand how much I fear the day that you call out for my help and my magic hurts you instead because I can’t get a fucking grip on myself.”

“Your magic would never hurt me; I trust it as much as I trust you.” He spoke softly, as if saying it was the easiest thing in whole world. “I, (Y/N) Wayne, love you and trust you with my life” A kiss to the forehead “with my heart” A kiss to the nose “and with my soul” A kiss to the cheek “and I’d be more than happy to remind you of it for the rest of our lives because I assure you my love that it is nothing but an undeniable truth of my life with you.” He completed with a chaste kiss to her lips, looking at her sheepishly as if he hadn’t just blown the metaphorical ground she always stood on, albeit all in good ways and with beyond pure intentions.

“I don’t…”she started but words felt heavy in her mouth. He spoke his truth so it was only fair to speak hers wasn’t it?

“I don’t want to live without you Bruce, I don’t even want to think about a time like that, that thought in itself scares me beyond words and I- I just can’t lose you Bruce, I can’t”, her voice cracked at the last word, a chocked out sob making its way out of her throat and with it went the last bit of self restraint Bruce had mustered to let her get everything off her chest. Wiping a traitorous stray tear that fell down her cheek, with the pad of his thumb, he pulled her impossibly closer, burying her head in the crook of his neck placing his lips soft but firm, on her temple.

“Shhhh. It’s okay. I’m okay. We’re okay” He kept murmuring in her ear, running his hands up and down her spine, until he felt the tremors wracking her figure subside and heard the sobs turn to small sniffs of her nose.

“You with me?”

“Always”, she mumbled nuzzling against his shoulder. Bruce nudged her just enough to get her to lift off her head, holding her chin with his thumb and index finger to prevent her from averting.

“Sorry for all that”, her voice raspy after crying as she gestured towards her face “Didn’t mean to have an emotional breakdown”

“Never apologize for how you feel. Ever.” He chided even as his hands around her tightened infinitesimally more.

“Now I can’t promise you that I won’t ever leave you because that is not something in my hands. What I can promise you is that I will be even more careful from now on and that no matter what I will always, always try my absolute best to come home to you in one piece”, he bumped his nose with hers, which if it weren’t for the gravity of his words would have coaxed an ear-to-ear smile out of her. Instead she let out a heavy sigh and Bruce could feel the previous tension which had been there ever since he stumbled out of the bat mobile and into her arms, seep out with every breath.

“That is all I ask, darling”, she whispered mirroring her statement at the start of their conversation. She moved forward, closing the gap and bringing their chests flush together. ‘I love you’s’ whispered against every brush of their lips.

Their bubble lasted up until they heard a loud snort in the background followed by a “You guys are so gross” and a much louder “I told you they would be making out by now! ‘Gravely Injured’ my ass”, Jason muttered the last part as he speed-walked back up the stairs of the cave.

“How mad do you think Alfred would be if I tripped him on his way up with an invisible rope allegedly made from my magic.”

“Dunno, but we’ll never know till we try now will we.”

The smirk on Bruce’s face matched perfectly with the evil glint in her eyes. It was also all the answer she needed as she immediately snapped her fingers and they were both rewarded with a loud thud followed by a “behaving like a couple of teenagers is so not cool guys! Oh stop laughing and help me up you Dickhead!”

°•°•°•°•

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne reader insert #batman reader insert #batman x reader #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne imagines #batman imagines #dc imagine #dc imagines #bruce wayne #batman #dc reader insert #dc x reader #dc comics #dc

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iridescentprose · 1 year

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Gotham Nights—Battinson x catwoman reader

summary; the aftermath of an interrogation gone a bit too far.

warnings; mentions of bloody knuckles, an unconscious body; a hint of floof

song; monsters (acoustic reverb version)—ruelle

author's note; happy fall.

The low, yet incessant humming of the generator in the background did little to ease the groans coming from the barely conscious body in the corner of the room. Stubbornly, you massaged the bloody nubs that coated your knuckles.

A pair of black boots approached you, offering a piece of torn, bloody fabric. Your eyes went to the body in the corner. The shoulder of his buttoned down shirt had been missing. You looked back at the cloth in your partner's hands.

It was better than nothing.

Reluctantly, you took it and applied pressure to the wounds on your hands before wrapping it intricately around your fingers. By no means you couldn't get it to stay wrapped around your fingers - the wounds too big to keep it secure.

A hand settled on top of yours just before you could give up. Your partner crouched before you, gently taking the torn fabric. Without any warning, he wordlessly took your injured hand and began to wrap it firmly. Weaving the fabric between and around your fingers, you winced in pain. Fresh wounds were always tender to the touch.

"So, what are you going to do with him?" You dared to ask as he worked on fastening the knot.

"I'm taking him to the police," he replied almost instantly, cinching the knot firmly. He did another knot for good measure. You gritted your teeth as pain prickled throughout your hand.

"The police?"

"I trust them. Some of them."

You begged to differ. The body in the corner was a petty thief layered in sheep's clothing - a closet drophead who had connections in the underground that stretched beneath the city like roots that infiltrated the government, the police department, and even the poor. Those same roots put a chokehold on those closest to you—pulling them down further and further to the ground until they were no longer there. Until their minds were far off - hung up on addiction, murder, and greed.

"I don't," You said, running your fingers over the makeshift bandage as he finished wrapping your hand. You balled it into a fist, making the tight cinch loose. "Everyone's corrupt—"

He grabbed your hand, not forcefully but enough to ease your anger.

"Not everyone," he said, fastening the "bandage" once more before looking at you.

You scoffed lightly and shook your head in amusement, a brief smile breaking through. "I know you're not corrupt."

"How do you know that?"

"Because actions speak louder than words." You looked down at your bandaged hand sitting in his gloved one. Despite the conversation being laced with frustration and debate, he had been nothing but gentle. His thumb lightly settled across your knuckles, his fingers curling around your palm gently. There was a mutual understanding between the two of you. Your curious suspicions about his trust in the some of the police department had already been answered.

Actions speak louder than words.

You both did little to break eye contact before a soft 'thud' in the corner brought you both back to reality. The body's boot kicked the generator one final time before it went still.

"He's dead," You said. A part of you hoped your observation was wrong as Vengeance stood to check his pulse. You knew very well you had caused too much damage before the real questions had yet to be asked.

"Unconscious," he reported a few moments after, causing you to sigh in relief. Vengeance removed his fingers from the Body's neck before he crouched down to sit him up.

You watched quietly as you nursed your hand, your fingers lightly massaging over the wounds. Your festering anger simmered down and was slowly being replaced with curiosity as Vengeance tied to the ropes around the Body's chest tighter so he couldn't escape when the police arrived.

You weren't sure if you had made the situation worse by knocking him unconscious, but the monstrous deed of revenge had been done...and for the sake of the person you trusted, you didn't feel guilty about it.

After all, you were just as much of a monster as he was in the eyes of Gotham.

#battinson x reader #the batman 2022 x reader #the batman 2022 #batman 2022 #batman reader insert #battinson x you #battison x y/n #the batman #battinson #the batman x you #batman #battinson x female reader #dceu dc fanfiction

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kimjun · 4 months

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Jason: how do I make a date really romantic?

Dick: be mysterious

Jason: got it!

*later, while on a date with Y/n*

Y/n: where are we going?

Jason: none of your fucking business

#reader insert #x reader #incorrect quotes #dc x y/n #jason todd x reader #dcu #dick grayson #dc batman #icons jason todd #jason x reader #jason todd is red hood #dick grayson x reader #batfamily #batfam x reader #batfan #red hood x reader #damian wayne #bruce wayne x fem!reader

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hanasnx · 3 months

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thinking about how big BRUCE WAYNE is compared to you. a tank of pure muscle and meat. brutish. imposing. fills a room. when his massive hands grab on your ass like a handle, bouncing you on his dick in reverse cowgirl. when he brings your back to his chest and pins your head with a palm over your mouth that spans the width of your face, fucking into you at a bruising pace while you sob into his hand. he makes you feel like nothing, using you like a little toy he picked out for himself. it’s like you’re part of his work-out routine, or his warm-up at least, being picked up by the waist while he fucks up into you.

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sanguineterrain · 4 months

Text

restroom attendant | jason todd

Summary: Tonight is the worst night ever--you just got dumped on your birthday, and all you want to do is cry in the restaurant bathroom in peace. That is, until, the Red Hood bursts in. This city just won't cut you a break.

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings/tags: humor, mild angst, reader's ex-bf cheats and dumps her, jason is such a silly goose, flirting, meet ugly, canon-typical violence, awkward jason, comic relief dick grayson.

A/N: this is probably the silliest fic i've ever written LOL! i hope you guys enjoy it. please support your local jason todd enthusiast and reblog :)

the divider

Tonight sucks.

With a shaky hand, you attempt to soothe your swollen eyes. You’ve probably been in here for about twenty minutes. Your Uber has definitely left, as has your now ex-boyfriend of three years.

Yoga instructor. It’s always the yoga instructor. They’re always fucking the yoga instructor.

You swallow a mouthful of tears and phlegm and try not to let the wet sink touch your dress. All you’d wanted was a little class on your birthday, maybe have some wine and play footsie under the table with your boyfriend. But no. That would’ve been too easy for you.

You’re starting to think this city is cursed.

The door slams open. The force of it shakes the bathroom, rattles the mirrors. You spin around.

A man slides across the floor and smacks his head on the opposite wall. Red Hood appears in the doorway, the eyes of his helmet glowing eerily.

Yep. Definitely cursed.

"Let's try this again," Hood says pleasantly, reloading his gun with a fresh magazine. "And in the interest of making myself transparent: when I ask you a question, Jerry, I expect a truthful answer."

He stalks over to Jerry and heaves him up by the lapels of his suit jacket. Hood's biceps bulge as he holds Jerry against the wall. You squish yourself against the sink. Water soaks the back of your dress.

"You're crazy, I didn't do anything!" Jerry shouts, feet barely scraping the floor.

"Volume, Jerry. People are trying to enjoy their meals.”

“Let go of me, Hood! I wasn’t anywhere near the Iceberg Lounge!”

“Yeah, see, words are coming outta your mouth, but they don't match the fact that I have three people who put you at the scene. How can we remedy this inconsistency? Any ideas?"

Jerry squirms, but he's no match for Hood's strength. Your heart pounds in your chest.

"Don't give me to the cops!" Jerry begs.

"Cops are the least of your worries right now," Hood snarls. "You're damn lucky Nightwing wants to talk to you, Jerry, or your head would hurt a lot more."

Slowly, you reach for your purse, trying to pull out your phone. Instead, you knock it to the floor. Tears gather in your eyes because this night just can’t cut you a break.

“Motherfucker,” you whisper.

Hood turns, those frightening white eyes now on you. Jerry also looks at you, legs still dangling.

“Hey,” Hood says without a sign of struggle. “Shit. Y'alright? Did I swipe ya?”

“No,” you say, voice shaky.

His posture softens. “Okay. I’m not gonna hurt you. Don’t be afraid.”

“I believe you. But, um… you're in the women's bathroom.”

Red Hood gives the room a onceover.

“Huh. So we are. Dunno how that happened.” He shakes Jerry by the collar. “Why’d you run into the women’s bathroom, asshole?”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Don't kill me!” Jerry wails.

“Shut it, Jesus. I'm not gonna kill you. Not yet, anyway.”

“It's fine, I was just leaving,” you say, bending down to get your purse.

“Hey, no, don't let me push you out,” Hood says. “Sorry. I'll be gone in a couple minutes.”

Hood adjusts his grip so Jerry's face is against the wall, arms and legs restrained. Then he zipties Jerry and sits him down hard on the floor. Hood presses a button on his helmet.

“Yo, N, I'm at Prescott's. Yeah, with Jerry. No, I didn't tell him to run in here, he did that all on his own! Well, I chased him for ten blocks, so I’d prefer if you’d keep your bitching to yourself. Thank you… Okay, we're in the women's bathroom, so—well, I didn't do it on purpose! No, I’m—will you just come here? There’s a side window.” Hood presses the button again with a grunt. “Dickhead.”

“Are you gonna erase my memory?” you ask.

Hood jerks, turning back to you.

“What? Hell no, I'm not gonna erase your memory. I don't do that shit, I promise.”

You slump against the sink. “That's too bad. I would prefer it.”

He looks up from Jerry’s last ziptie and pulls it extra tight. Jerry whimpers.

“How come?” Hood asks.

You shake your head. “It's nothing.”

“Hm. Doesn't look like nothing. If you're in danger—”

“I'm not in danger. I…”

You glance at Hood. You can't see his face, but his body language seems genuine. From what you've heard, Hood isn't known for mincing words or doing things he doesn't want to. And he’s good to Gothamites. Well, the law-abiding ones, anyway. He’s even been endorsed by Batman.

What's the harm in telling him about your disastrous night? Not like you'll see him again. Or Jerry.

“I got dumped,” you say.

“Ah.” Hood nods. “Been there.”

Somehow, the idea of Red Hood getting dumped is weirder than him beating up a guy in the women’s bathroom of Prescott’s.

You sniffle, and wipe your eyes with the back of your hand.

“Yeah, um. It was our three year anniversary today. He took me here, told me he was in love with his yoga instructor, and then left.”

You tear up thinking about it. Hood makes a quiet noise.

“Shit. Well, I haven't been there,” he says. “But I know infidelity. I'm sorry. Dudes are trash.”

“And it's my birthday today,” you blurt, sniffling.

“Happy birthday,” Jerry says, clutching his stomach.

“What a fucking asshole!” Hood snarls, and lets go of Jerry, who crumples like a sack of potatoes. He’s out cold in a second, frozen on the floor.

Your brows rise. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. It’s his first time in Gotham.” Hood shrugs. “Anyway, where was I? Right, your asshole ex. Like it's not enough to publicly dump you, and then he goes and does it on your birthday? Who is this guy? I'll go talk to him right now.”

You laugh a loud, snorting laugh. It bounces off the tiles.

Hood tilts his head. “What’d I say?”

You catch your breath and wave your hand.

“No, nothing, I’m sorry. I’ve just had a crappy night and that’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever offered to me.”

“I mean it,” Hood says. “I’ll scare him if you want.”

“As tempting as that is, I don’t want to be an accessory to a crime.”

You also don’t want to put your ex in the ICU, no matter how much he might deserve it. Best to let the universe do its thing.

“You’d be acquitted, don’t worry.” Hood leans against the stall. “I’d never letcha go to jail.”

You smile, your ears growing warm. “You don’t even know me. What if I deserve it?”

“Nah. I got a good sense about people. I can tell you’re sweet. Probably don’t even run through red lights.”

“I try not to,” you say, heat spreading to your face.

“Yeah, a good girl. I figured as much.”

Your eyes widen. Hood coughs and rubs his neck. Even his coughs sound intimidating through the helmet, but that’s negated by his scrunched-up posture.

“Fuck. Sorry. That wasn’t a come-on,” he says. “I mean, it sounded like one, but I’m realizing what a creep I am, flirting with you in a bathroom with a zip-tied criminal. Sorry.” He shakes his head. “I hate myself.”

You grin. “It’s okay. You made my night better, actually. Thanks.”

“That’s a testament to how terrible your night’s been if I made it better.”

You shrug. “Could always be worse. I bet Jerry had an even shittier night than me.”

“You’d win that bet. But I—”

The window swings open with a clunk. Nightwing pops his head in. He looks at Hood, then you.

“Uh,” he says. “Evening. What’s going on?”

“What’s going on is it took you almost ten minutes to get here,” Hood says, back in Vigilante Mode. “Did you get lost?”

Nightwing smiles with all his teeth. “I was actually cleaning up your mess at the Bowery, Hood. You’re welcome.”

He looks at you. “Hi. Sorry about this. I hope we didn’t ruin your night. If there’s anything we can reimburse you for…”

You shake your head. “It’s okay. My night was already sunk. Don’t worry about it. Thanks for keeping Gotham safe.”

Nightwing laughs. “The pleasure is ours.”

“Alright, enough chattering, Dickwing,” Hood says. “Take him.”

He lifts the unconscious Jerry, pushing him up to the window. He does so effortlessly, his jacket riding up to reveal his skin-tight jumpsuit.

You look away before he catches you staring. There’s definitely something wrong with you.

Nightwing takes Jerry and waves at you. Then he disappears.

“So, uh,” Hood says. “I gotta go.”

“Oh! Right, of course. Sorry to keep you.”

“Now what’re you apologizing for?” he asks, and it almost sounds like a tease. You wonder what his smile looks like. What color his eyes are.

“Well, I really didn’t mean to keep you…”

“You didn’t keep me,” Hood says, and you can hear the warmth even through his decoder. “This is probably the best arrest I’ve ever made.”

He starts to climb through the window, then stops. He digs into one of the pockets of his belt and pulls out a scrap of paper.

“This is my number,” he says. “Well, it’s kind of the vigilante hotline. But you can reach me here, in case you ever need help.”

Hood walks over to give it to you. He smells like gunpowder and oranges. He’s even larger this close, the width of his shoulders dwarfing you.

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

He nods and backs up, clapping his hands.

“Right. So I’ll go… Bye.”

Hood looks at you for a moment more. Then he hops up onto the window sill and slides out, somehow graceful despite his bulk. The window closes.

Your dress has dried, which is nice. You walk out of the bathroom. It’s a miracle no one else has come in.

You get your coat and this time, when you see the empty seat across from yours, you don’t burst into tears, which is progress. You call another Uber and go to wait for it at the front. The hostess approaches you.

“Ma’am?” she says, and holds out a small, plastic container. In it is a slice of tiramisu.

“I didn’t order this,” you say.

“It was called in and paid for by a Mr. R.H. He wishes you a happy birthday.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

You’re definitely leaving a five-star review on Yelp.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd fanfiction #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #batman fanfiction #dc fanfiction #jason todd reader insert

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uncpanda · 8 months

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Found Out

AN: The Law and Order SVU and Batman crossover no one, absolutely no one asked for, but I still wrote. Cause I can ;)

Warnings: Mentions of serial killers. Nothing graphic.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

For being some of the smartest, most intelligent, detectives in the world, the superheros in your life are fairly oblivious. And on some level you’re really thankful for that. It allows you the freedom to do your job without their henpecking.

On the opposite side of the spectrum, the people you work with, your second family, are some of the kindest, most intelligent, and hardworking detectives you’ve ever met, but they’re also oblivious to the fact that you’re married to a billionaire.

You had never really meant to keep the worlds separate. It had started off innocent enough, you’d joined NYPD as a beat cop while Bruce was out studying to become the Bat. And when he got home you’d spent every spare minute helping him. Between that and the company he’d been too exhausted to ask anything other than a few questions about your job. He knew you worked for a large organization in NYC and that was it. He trusted you. And the boys were just as oblivious as their father. The only person who knew was Alfred. He’d been the once to come to your graduation from the academy while Bruce was still away.

On the flip side, your SVU family knew very little about your home life. They knew you were married, they knew you had kids, but they didn’t know how many. After all, you’d only had the two pregnancies; Terry and Matt had both been big but welcome surprises. Then again ALL of your boys were surprises. And you had perfected your technique of avoiding the paparazzi for both SVU and Gotham High Society.

Honestly, in your mind, there was no reason at all for your two worlds to meld. When you were at home, you took care of your family; when you were at work you tried really hard not to think of them, because despite crime fighting, you didn’t want them anywhere near these types of crimes.

Of course, nothing lasts forever, but you figure twenty years is a good run, especially when Bruce is driving Dick away for his desire to be a cop. You watch them go back and forth for hours, before you finally step in. There are groans from the other boys about stopping the fight while Cass just grins, and you ignore all of them.

“You’re going to stop this right now Bruce Wayne.”

His eyes are hard, his jaw is set, “You don’t understand Y/N.”

Out of the corner of your eye you watch Alfred roll his eyes in exasperation, “I understand better than anyone here.”

His hands go to his hips, and you know he’s about to dig a very deep hole for himself, “Sweetheart, I love you, and I know you work the computers from time to time, but this is different. There are guns involved and he’d have to work inside the system.”

“So?”

“You can’t do both; there’s too much to hide.”

You smile sweetly at him, “I don’t know, I’ve been doing both for the past twenty years. Then again, I suppose it might be different for me since I just worked the computers for a while.”

He blinks at you, and you know he’s connecting the dots. You ignore him, and turn to your oldest, his eyes wide, “While I understand you wanting to do Bludhaven, if you want to do NYPD, we can drive into the city together. Let me know, I have more than a few favors I can call in.”

Tim is the first to voice the statement, “You’re a cop?”

You shrug, “First grade detective, but I’m taking the sergeants exam in a few weeks.”

Jason stares at you, “Seriously? Are you joking right now?”

“I joined when I was twenty. I’d finished college early thanks to AP classes, went in as a beat cop, and after five years I became a detective. I’ve been working at SVU for the past fifteen years. They’re like my family away from home.”

You can tell there are more questions, but no one seems brave enough to ask them. You start to head out of the room, when Bruce asks, “Why did you hide it?”

You pause and turn to him, “I didn’t. You just never asked.”

As you leave you hear Alfred ask, “Would you like a shovel for the hole you’re digging sir, or should I just make up the couch for you?”

You go wait in your room, and lie down on the bed. A few minutes later Bruce comes in, and you look at each other. His brow is furrowed, eventually he asks, “Why didn’t you tell me? How could I not have known?”

You smile at him, “I didn’t want you to know Bruce. I was on my own path, and I knew you would worry. At the start I told myself I would tell you eventually, but. . . you were so involved with Batman and you were doing so much good . . . I didn’t want to add to your stress. You were barely sleeping three hours a night at that point.

“Then we Dick, and I considered telling you but he needed us to focus on him, and after a while it became easier to excuse it. It became my secret identity. Are you mad?”

He lets out a laugh, “I dress up as a bat, and fight crime as a vigilante. I don’t think I can be mad. I think I’m worried.”

“About?”

“Us drifting apart, not knowing you?”

You shrug, “I’m me Bruce. I just also happen to be a cop. I see a lot of bad stuff, everyday. The last thing I want when I come home is to talk about it. Same as you guys. When I’m home I want to be happy, but if you want to know I’ll tell you on one condition.”

He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, after a moment he asks, “What’s the condition?”

“You can’t involve Batman. NYPD is not Gotham PD.”

He nods after a minute. The two of you spend the night talking, you tell him about some close calls, you tell him about the one life you’d been forced to take, you tell him about your frustration. You tell him about Liv and Elliot, and how Elliot leaving crushed Liv, but she rose from the ashes to become a lieutenant. You tell him about Munch and Cragen, both of whom have retired. You tell him about Finn, Rollins, Amaro, Carisi, Dodds and Barba. It’s nearly six in the morning by the time you’re finished.

“And that’s the majority of it.”

You’re both lying on the bed staring at each other. Bruce has been largely silent, he’d skipped patrol, and only asked a few questions. A part of you wonders when his anger will hit; it doesn’t. Instead he says, “I am so freaking proud of you,” and then he kisses you. And you can’t help but think, that in a normal marriage, a normal family, this would have been a big deal, it would have broken them. In your family though? It’s another day.

You call out of work that day to catch up on sleep and spend the day with your family. The boys come up with a bunch of reasons as to why they should have realized you were a cop.

“You work really weird hours.”

“You never wore heels to work.”

“You never wore dresses either, come to think of it?”

“Is this why we own a penthouse in NYC?”

Jason is the one who asks, “Where do you keep your gun? I thought those weren’t allowed in the house?”

“You don’t need to worry about it. It’s locked up.” Logically, you know each of your boys knows how to use a gun, mainly for the purpose of knowing how to disarm someone holding a gun. You still don’t want them anywhere near it. For that reason, it’s kept in a DNA safe in Alfred’s room.

When you go back to work the next day, you have your gun and badge on your hip. All of the men in your life focus on it. Bruce corners you in the kitchen as you’re pouring coffee into a travel mug and whispers, “You look sexy as hell with the badge.”

You laugh, and then you kiss him. You’re the one who drops Cass, Tim, Damian, Terry, and Matt off at school. Jason is in college, and he drives himself. Dick is still contemplating his options.

The fact that your family knows makes things a lot easier a few weeks later when Carl Rudnick and Greggory Yates escape from prison. You can hear the worry in Bruce’s voice, when he begs you to be safe and not do anything risky. You snort at that and he chuckles, “I know, I’m a hypocrite, but I’m your hypocrite.” You roll your eyes, because the big doofus, is in fact, yours. You also know he’s keeping a close watch on the man hunt.

Three days later Rudnick is back in custody, but Yates is still on the run, back to Chicago you’re pretty sure. You’ve gotten maybe five hours of sleep total in those days? You’re exhausted, but you have reports to fill out, and Chief Dodds, the commissioner and a whole bunch of brass are hanging around.

You’re in hour three of doing paperwork, when you hear whispers. Your eyes flicker up to find your husband smiling at you from across the room. He’s holding a doggy bag full of food, he’s dressed in a suit that costs thousands of dollars, and you know that people recognize him.

Finn leans forward, “What the hell is Bruce Wayne doing here?”

You hear Carisi whisper, “Maybe he’s dating Leiu?”

You can’t help it, you burst out laughing, because you sometimes forget it’s not common knowledge that Bruce is married, despite the ring on his finger. You avoid galas with the best of them after all. You call it the Batman tax; Bruce can fight crime and you don’t have to show up to stuffy dinner parties.

Bruce smiles at the laughter, before approaching your desk, he settles into the chair next to your desk. “Really? No pictures of me or the kids?”

You scoff, “Work stays at work, home stays at home.”

He frowns, “I’m getting you pictures.”

You don’t argue with him, “What are you doing here?”

“I brought you food. Alfred and I figured you hadn’t eaten.”

“I haven’t had anything outside of vending machine junk in days.”

He scoffs, “What happened to taking care of ourselves?”

You shrug, “I’ve been hunting serial killers.”

His face goes serious, “But you’re okay?”

“As okay as I can be. They got a few more people, our sergeant took a bullet to the shoulder, Rudnick is back in prison, but Yates is headed only God knows where.”

His fingers twitch, and you know he’s itching to do something, but he can’t. He can’t get involved in this too. He has all of Gotham to worry about and thanks to the league, sometimes he has to worry about the world.

He lets out a breath, “Can I join you while you eat?”

“Yes. You can catch me up on the goings at home.” You lead him past your shocked colleagues, and a room full of shocked officials in Liv’s office and to the breakroom. While you eat, Bruce assures you that the boys are fine, but Damian apparently butchered the hedges again. Clark was apparently being a pain in his ass too. The man of steel wanted your family to come to Kansas for Thanksgiving.

“I’ll probably have to work, use that as an excuse.”

Bruce grins, “This job has perks.”

You lean forward and peck his lips, “Lots of them.”

When you’re finished you stand up to leave and there is a room watching the two of you. You sigh, and Bruce mutters, “It’s good to know the vultures remain consistent.”

Chief Dodds is about to step forward and ask a question when you step towards Olivia, “Bruce this Liv. She’s saved my ass more than once over the years. Liv, this is my husband Bruce, remember I talked about him?”

She grins, “Yes, but you failed to mention he was Bruce Wayne.”

You feign nonchalance, “Did I? Hmmm.”

Bruce smiles, it’s the one that has everyone jumping to meet his every need, the one that says he’s as innocent as a choir boy, and he would be your best friend if you let him. You smirk at him while he shakes Liv’s hand, “Thanks for watching her back. The boys and I appreciate it.”

That’s when Finn steps forward, “That right, you guys have a huge family, right?”

Bruce’s brow furrows in fake concentration, “We have Dick who is twenty, Jason is eighteen, Cass is Fifteen, Tim is fourteen, Damian is ten, Terry is six, and Matt is four.” He looks at you, “How’d I do?”

“Perfect score.”

“We have a full house, but it’s nice.”

You nod, “Let me walk you out.”

You make sure Bruce gets to his car, you kiss him, and promise you’ll be home by morning. Once he’s gone you head back up to find everyone waiting on you, it’s Finn who declares, “You have some explaining to do.”

You sigh, life was easier when no one knew anything.

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lycheeloving · 3 months

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yandere!Bruce tries to keep you away from his vigilante life "for your own good", but you disagree <3

#the fake text website fucked up my formatting ✌️😔 might try to fix that later #update: used a different website and fixed the formatting 👍#yandere batfamily #yandere dc #yandere batman #yandere!batfamily #batfam x reader #yandere batfam #reader insert #yandere #x reader #lycheewritings #platonic yandere #yandere bruce wayne #yandere texting

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currymariana · 2 years

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The tear in my heart (Chapter 6)

Paring: Bruce Wayne x Reader

Summary: Detective Y/L/N is the youngest yet the most skilled detective in Gotham’s Police, being one of the few James Gordon trusts with Batman stuff. After some time working closely with the Bat, Y/N starts to get the vigilante’s attention. But there’s no way this would work right? Getting close to you as Batman wasn’t a possibility, but maybe he could take a chance as Bruce, right?

Words: 3,2k

Previous | Masterlist |

A/N: Happy mother's day! Hope you are having a great time with the ones you love. It took me longer than expected to write this chapter, I rewrited like... 4 times to come out as I wanted. By the way I decided to spend more of my time writing. Things haven't beeing great and writing is something I really enjoy to do. Reading your comments and seeing you guys enjoy it makes me feel better. So even touth the time is short, with college and friends and family and work (i know...) I decid to dedicate more of my time on this story and others I have in mind. Anyways... Hopefully you will be seeing more of me. So hope you liked this one and let me know what you think (any critics or compliments are welcome)

You are sitting on the cafe counter waiting for Andrea to take the order of some random client to proceed with your conversation, while you look at some papers from a new case you have been working on.

“Okay let me see if I get this straight,” she said while standing in front of you on the other side of the balcony and added, “You are dating the most famous guy in the city for over a month and you haven’t even kissed him yet?”

“We are not dating” you corrected her

“That’s bullshit!” she argued “You guys have been out like what? 8 times?”

“9” you mumbled, looking to your coffee and the papers on the counter.

“Oh my god! You are insufferable” she growled

You and Bruce made those little dates a thing, almost every week you would go out for a quick coffee or lunch together. You even appeared in the gossip magazines once or twice as the billionaire's new fling. But nothing ever happened. You were still unsure about all of this. You liked the friendship you both had and you enjoyed spending time with him. But you weren’t sure if you wanted this to turn into a relationship. And Bruce not even once pushed or questioned you about anything. Beeing a gentleman as always.

“We are good friends,” you said

“Well… you have a very hot and rich friend” she added, raising her eyebrows to you, you simply rolled your eyes and decided to ignore her comment. “There is no way you haven’t thought about it”

“Well, of course, I did” you admitted “But there’s nothing to think about it. I like having another friend besides you and Jim. I don’t want to be in a relationship right now and there is no way someone like him wants to be in a relationship with someone like me.”

“Sometimes I really want to hit you in the face” was all she said before being called once again to take some costumer orders.

It felt like you both had this conversation like a million times already.

She was always telling you to move things forward with Bruce. You would say you were just friends and how you wanted to focus on your job, and that there was no way Bruce Wayne who dates models and Hollywood actresses would want to date you. She would say that no guy took a girl out that many times if he just wanted to be friends. And you being your insecure and stubborn self would choose not to believe her.

“You’re a beautiful, intelligent, successful detective. He would be stupid to not want to date someone ‘like you” she said returning to the other side of the counter and doing a sarcastic voice in the last words

“Can we change the subject? You just want me to date him so you could get a ride in his car” you responded her, obvious joking “Plus… is not like I want someone like him anyway”

“Oooh right. He isn’t too dark and mysterious for your taste”

“What do you mean?” you asked confused

“I mean that he doesn’t put on a bat costume and fights criminals at night… Totally not your type.”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous”

“You’re the one with a crush on a crazy guy you don’t even know the face”

“I do not have a crush”

“You do”

“I don’t. That would be ridiculous.”

“Exactly” was all she said before going to take some other customer's order.

You totally don’t have a crush on Batman. That would be totally nonrational of you. You don’t even know the guy. Sure you had been working “together” for a few years. Sure you found him extremely intelligent. Sure you admired him. And he intrigues you.

That’s it, you were intrigued. There was nothing more than admiration.

Maybe if you repeat that enough you would actually believe it.

You hated having this kind of talk with Andrea. But you liked it at the same time. It was like you were perfect opposites. She was all emotion and spontaneously and you the rational half.

She always made you see things differently than the way they were in your head. And you hated how she always made you question things at the end of every conversation.

That’s why you would rather talk to Jim. But you didn't wanna talk about relationships with him. That would be too awkward. The guy is almost like a father to you.

So Andrea would do. And maybe she was right. You are a beautiful, intelligent, successful detective. You shouldn’t be afraid of taking the next step in a relationship.

To be honest you know Bruce wants more. He wouldn’t ask you on a date after only seeing you twice (and even after you called him dumb on your first encounter) if he didn’t like you.

And you would be lying if you said you didn’t like him like that too. He was fun to be with. He was always a gentleman with you. You like him. But there was a stupid not so little voice inside your head telling you things like you were not enough for someone like him. There was no way Bruce Wayne of all people would like you. Even though he never made you feel like that. Maybe you should let your more emotional and spontaneous side take over.

And the batman thing… Well on that subject you need the racional side to really take over.

There’s no possible way anything could ever happen. The guy never speaks more than 10 words per night. You know nothing about him besides he likes bats (probably).

There was a really nice guy in your life. One that talks to you. Shows you sides of him he doesn't show everyone. And that likes you.

“You really think he likes me like that?” you manifest your internal thoughts to Andrea as soon as she steps in front of you

“Who? The Batman?”

“No, you idiot…. Bruce”

“ooooh - yeah, definitely,” she said nodding “Told you already. No guy would take you out that many times if he didn’t like you - I swear sometimes it’s like you don’t even listen to me”

“Well… unfortunately I do” you joked “Actually you talk so much that sometimes I block your voice on my brain and just nod” she hits your arm and you pretend that it hurt

“Why do you ask though?” she gave you a knowing look and raised an eyebrow “Finally thinking of giving the guy a chance?”

“I don’t know just thinking about the whole situation”

Three days later that conversation. You were sitting in the Wayne Manor library. Working on a case as he worked on his company paperwork or something. It has become a usual thing between you two.

You would just go to Manor to spend time together. You did your thing while he did his. Not necessarily engaging in a conversation. Just simply enjoying each other’s company.

It didn't make sense for you to drive all the way there. But you just liked having a different environment to work in and you could enjoy Alfred’s cooking on top of that. Plus.. the company wasn’t actually unpleasant.

Bruce was pretty smart. Sometimes you would talk about what you were working on and vice-versa. And to your surprise sometimes he would even help you. Coming up with some quite smart solutions.

But this time you couldn’t help but think about your talk with Andrea back in the cafe. That one where the subject wasn’t exactly new. But when you talked to Jim bravely about it. Hoping he would agree with you and blow those crazy emotional thoughts out of your head.

You were surprised when he agreed with your barista friend. He even told you he was seeing right through your feelings for weeks but hasn't said anything because he knows you and knew you would just deny it anyway.

If you were already thoughtful, you are even more now. You couldn’t focus on your case. The papers in front of you were just a distraction from the handsome man sitting across from you. You were uncharacteristically uneasy. And he seemed to notice. Of course, he would notice;

“Are you alright?” Bruce asked turning his sight of the computer in front of him to you

“Yeah I’m” you looked at him and gave him a little smile before turning your attention back to the papers in front of you “Just a complicated case” you couldn’t tell him the real reason for your anxiety so you blamed on the case (well- it wasn’t exactly a lie)

“Wanna talk about it? Maybe it will help you clear your thoughts” he knew it wasn’t fair to lie to you. Pretend he was just a civilian guy that came up with solutions. But he loved to hear about your cases and help you solve them. There was some excitement in acting like Batman being Bruce.

“It’s nothing really, just another weird man wanting to play god in this city” you quickly tried to dismiss the conversation but Bruce seemed interested in what you had to say when he closed his computer and turned his full attention to you.

Noticing he wouldn’t let it go, you continued.

“There is this guy… Black mask he calls himself, basically an underworld king in Gotham” you said avoiding his gaze and looking at the papers on the table “Night clubs, drug trafficking, kidnapping, murders. Pretty sure he is involved with all that, but we can never get to him”

Bruce was well aware of who Black Mask was. He was working with you and Gordon to get a hand on this guy. But he listened to you talk about it like it was the first time he ever heard of it.

“You know this city. There is always a new guy in a weird costume wanting to rule it all” you added and turned quietly your attention to the papers not having anything else to add.

There was another thing Bruce liked about you. You never shared much about your cases. You would make a comment or two about what you were working on to keep a conversation but never gave away too much information. Always keeping professional. After all, he was just some civilian, he shouldn’t know about police cases with the details that you didn’t know he had.

“So I’m just trying to find some kind of loop. Something we can actually prove he was involved in. So we can arrest him and put an end to his reign”

He nodded and let you return your focus to your papers.

“So… is Batman helping you in this one?” he couldn’t help it, could he? immediately after he said that he regretted it. But he couldn’t help. Some weird part of him liked hearing you talk about him being oblivious of the situation.

“Yes, he is”' you said, turning back your attention to him “Ever since we heard of black mask first appearance actually. He is always such a big help.” Bruce had to hide his smirk hearing you talk about him like that.

“He doesn't need a court order. So he just goes there and kicks some ass. Is so cool. Of course, there are rules for a reason. And sometimes he breaks the law - which I don’t agree with - but sometimes, I swear, all that bureaucracy only delays our work. And he doesn't need that…” you kept babbling (like you usually do when you were nervous or excited) about the batman. And Bruce wasn’t having fun anymore.

He noticed that every time you started talking about Batman there was a behavior change. You would get excited. Usually, you start babbling. You would get excited like it was a topic you really liked to talk about.

So Bruce started overthinking this whole situation. You had been spending time together for over a month now. And he notice that not even once did he hear you talk about him with the excitement you talked about Batman. He tought about all your interactions with the dark knight and Bruce started thinking you were more confortable around Batman than with him

He swears to God. It’s like he is competing with himself over your attention.

And of course, you don’t know that. Which only makes it worse.

Bruce realized that he is jealous of himself. What a situation.

You kept rambling about Batman and how you were working together on the Black mask case. When you notice Bruce's change of expression. He suddenly seemed sad for a second only to turn clearly angry.

“What is it?” you asked, interrupting your rambling and looking straight into his eyes.

“What?”

“That face” you explained “You look angry. Did I say something wrong?”

He thought you wouldn’t notice it. He was always so good at keeping a poker face. Being an unreadable character. But to be fair to him, an ordinary person wouldn’t notice it. But you were no ordinary. You were a detective. You literally do this shit for a living.

“I’m not angry” he tried to assure you, but once again you weren’t convinced. “You didn’t say anything wrong, just keep going…” he tried to turn your focus away from him.

“No. You are” you said, straightening yourself in the chair and closing the file on the table to turn your attention fully to him, suddenly curious about what had made him angry, worried you said something to upset him. Slightly nervous. You were now worried you blew it all. Now that you were coming clear about your feelings for him. “I can see right through your face, don’t lie to me,” you said with a nervous laugh

“Right… with your detective superpowers,” he joked and chucked as an attempt to make time to think of a reasonable explanation. He couldn't lie to you cause you would see right through it. And he could tell you the truth without sounding vulnerable and stupid for being jealous of a girl who wasn’t even his.

“It’s not a superpower” you played along. “It’s science. People do involuntary microexpressions that leak what they're feeling even for a fraction of a second. And you know I happen to notice them.”

You had a conversation once about this. He remembers. You told him how you study it after seeing it in a Tv series because you thought it would be useful for your job. And that only made him admire you more. But he couldn't say he was surprised since he had that knowledge himself. But he had to admit, even Batman doesn't match you in that subject. Since you tend to look directlly at to people's faces way more than him.

“It seems like a superpower to me”

“Call it as you want. You still looked angry for a second back then” you said relaxing in the chair once again. But still holding your gaze on him, focused on getting the truth out of him even if it might hurt you.

Bruce was frustrated. He hasn’t thought about a way out. He hated how he normally would get out of this situation. But he hated how he couldn’t come clear when you were involved. It’s like you could see right through all his defenses. He ran his fingers to his hair before speaking.

"It 's just…” he hesitated “It’s just the way you talk about this Batman guy.”

Okay- that took you by surprise. Your mind was already going millions per mile thinking he ran out of patience waiting for you, or how he would ask you to leave his house cause you said something he didn’t agree with. You were surprised but relieved.

“You always seem so excited. And calling him ‘cool’. And repeating how nice is to work it him”

You couldn’t help but chuck. Both for your imagination and for the idea of Bruce Wayne being jealous of a guy in a costume.

“You’re jealous of Batman, Bruce?” you teased him

“Don’t laugh” he was beyond frustrated, he wanted to build a hole in the ground to jump on it, he have never felt this vulnerable, he thought it was ridiculous “You know what - forget it. It’s ridiculous” he quickly opened his laptop to pretend to proceed his work.

You noticed Bruce’s uncomfortableness. How his feelings were genuine but he instantly regretted manifesting them. You knew it wasn’t a common thing for him to do. How he was genuinely jealous of you and how embarrassed he was for expressing it.

And you thought it was cute. How a big guy like him (both on name and body) would easily fall apart over something so little. Bruce was always impressing you. That moment all doubts you had were gone. That little voice in your head saying that you weren’t enough disappeared. There was no Batman. The was no fear of relationship. You wanted to assure him that his feelings weren’t ridiculous.

So you got up from your chair at the table across from him. He noticed your movement but decided to focus on the blank screen of his laptop to pretend to be occupied. You made your way to him. You took all the courage you had. And sit on his lap. Surprising him he quickly turns his attention from the screen to you.

You gave him a sweet smile and cupped his face with both of your hands, making him look into your eyes.

“Well - I like you better than him” was all you could say. You couldn’t think of something nicer or more romantic to say. All you wanted to do was assure him there was no need for jealousy. You just wanted to assure him you liked him. And hoped he liked you too.

So you leaned in and closed the gap between your lips. He was quick to return the kiss. And in seconds you were in perfect balance. Like he was waiting to feel your lips for ages. The kiss was slow, you both proceeding with caution.

Your hands moved from his cheeks to the back of his neck. And his hands moved from the armchair to your hips. Without pulling apart you changed your position, pulling your legs apart to each side of him, trapping him in the chair.

You pull apart and you just stare at each other breathless, touching your foreheads. With both wide smiles. Neither of you said anything else. It wasn’t needed. You knew what the other was feeling clear. Completely vulnerable to each other. All the walls were down. And for the first time, feeling vulnerable wasn’t that bad.

Bruce connected your lips again. Then things got rougher. Full of desire and lust, instead of caution. You were both completely open.

The kiss heat up. His holds were still firm on your hips.

A groan escapes you when he started to give open-mouthed kisses on your jaw, your neckline. Not leaving any skin he could find untouched. You couldn’t help but let out a small moan.

“Bruce…” God he loved the way his name sounded in your mouth “how about you show me your room?”

Chapter 7 (Coming soon)

Finally!!!! I'm honestlly happy with how this chapter came out.

Hope you like it and let me know what you think

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Tagging:

@hauntingsonofrobin @missmannequin @justine-en @elizamalfoyy @thedumbgirl @simonsbluee @elena-mayfair @maluisamarvelfan123

(thank you all for the support)

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notwonderlandsworld · 2 years

Note

I absolutely love your writing! I wanted to know if you have any ideas on what to write? I am currently reading all the Batkid and thought "what If the dimensions crossover of another batkid who is oldest is taking over as batman then meets the younger batkid who just became their own vigilante?" Or smth along the lines of that concept. I honestly just want batkid baby and then batkid adult being a badass

I've left Batkid open for anyone who wants to request. The intention I had was setting the story up (the prolouge) to help set MY version of how I believe the batkid would turn up. It's really an open book other than that, so anyone can request for batkid, whether that be older or younger!

Made this a one-shot since u didn't really specificy if u wanted a headcanon or something hope u dont mind! I added my own sort of twist to this

SPECIAL NOTE: all of my child fics/daughter/son/sibling fics will be with an adopted reader and not a biological one. Biological would mean that half of these parents/couples would be mixed, so no I won’t be doing biological. Especially when it comes to predominantly white characters.

(Naomi is a made up character btw)

pairing(s): Batfam x Child!Reader

warning(s): way too much use of the word 'you', cursing (I think), little angst, kinda confusing i'm sorry, NOT PROOFREAD

word count: 4.4k

You don’t even know what actually happened, but you were certain it was all Klarion’s fault. How’d it come to this?

Your father never really let you go out on missions as much as the boys, since they apparently all agreed you were too young to join them. That got a rise out of you, which led to a huge argument with all of them.

You were ten, but that was considered too young for this kind of stuff?

Wasn’t Dick like eight when he first became Robin?

Needless to say, it ended with some yelling, crying, and a threat to even run away. After that, you were allowed to join patrol with them, with the exception that you’d return home early on school nights.

Currently, you were told to stay in the car while Batman and Zatanna went ahead to investigate the abandoned circus. Taking your cape off, you groaned at the horrible substitute over a real blanket.

“Ya alright, lad?” the man sitting in the back asked. Looking back at him, you shrugged, “This cape doesn’t necessarily make a good blanket.”

Constantine chuckled, “I would give ya this coat, “ he gestured to the one he was wearing, “But I’m kind of using it.” You groaned, “Why’d I even get left with you?”

“I’m not really chuffed about having to babysit either.”

Sending him a glare, you sighed while leaning back against the seat. Looking ahead, there were flashes followed by some colors being flickered out into the night sky. Zatanna probably found something, or someone.

You were about to close your eyes before a loud bang erupted from far away. Flinching, you gasped as an explosion appeared not too far away, black clouds of smoke contrasting with red and orange flames.

Constantine spoke up, “They seem to be handling it well. Lovely.” Looking over at him, you hopped into the driver’s seat and turned on the Batmobile.

Gesturing to the passengers side, you told the man to jump ahead. “Looks like they need help.” Before he could make a quick-witted comment, you stepped on the gas and drove to the scene.

Constantine gripped onto the backseat from the sudden speed, “Bloody hell! A warning would’ve been nice!”

“I told you to get in the passenger seat!” you yelled, not bothering to look over your shoulder.

Arriving at the scene, the Batmobile skidded to a halt as a giant piece of cement was thrown in front of you. Constantine was already in the passenger seat, opening the door as another boulder was flying towards the car again.

Yanking you out with him, he ran away from the destruction. You yelped when you felt him teleporting across the circus. Luckily, he stopped in front of your father and Zatanna.

“What happened?” Batman began. Constantine let you go, adjusting his coat. Before he could respond, you beat him to it, “We were almost crushed by some debris! Luckily, Constantine saved us.” A laugh was heard from away, making the four of you look back at the perpetrator.

Klarion emerged from the mess he created, even with Teekl on his shoulder he looked menacing. Looking at you, he let out a pathetic scoff, “Now who’s this?”

You glared at him, “Does it matter?” You were about to walk up to him until Batman pulled you back. Zatanna prepared herself for any possible oncoming attacks. Constantine watched on, secretly on the edge as well.

Klarion huffed, looking down on you, “I was simply trying to be polite. After all, it'd be rude to kill a stranger.”

“Then I'd like to remain a stranger.” you scoffed, reaching behind to activate your electric gauntlets without him noticing. Klarion smirked, at least you had some nerve to talk back.

Eyes turning red along with his hands, he began to glow and threw an arm in your direction. The rest of the group were thrown across the ground as a large construct wrapped around your body.

Zatanna tried to attack Klarion, but ultimately was pinned down by Teekl.

The cat’s teeth were drawn, bare, and sharp, as they slowly were leaning down towards the woman’s neck.

Attempting to use her magic, she winced when one of the claws sunk into her forearm. She screamed as they successfully punctured through.

Constantine was ready to attack with Batman until they were both pinned down as well. Your father struggled hard, yelling out your hero name.

The man cursed at himself internally. He couldn’t fail you like he did with his sons. He won’t. He refuses. Yet there he was, still being held down. Hopeless.

Struggling against the grips the witch boy had on you, there was only one option left. You just hoped it worked as the gauntlets charged up, ready to be used.

Klarion had yet to notice as he laughed, “How sad. You’ll have to remain a stranger when I kill you. And to think, it could’ve been nice to know who was under that cowl…”

The boy snapped his fingers as a book appeared out of thin air. Opening it up, he flipped through each page, tutting, “I wonder…what spell I should rid of you with.” Further inspecting more spells, he let his magic grip loosen a little.

You smirked, perfect timing.

Squeezing a fist, you super charged one of the arms. Just as the boy turned back to look at you with an ‘aha!’ he received the endside of your knuckles.

Gritting your teeth, you pushed harder, charging up the bolts more. The tingly feeling was beginning to reach up your forearm, but you didn’t care.

Big mistake.

While giving Klarion a piece of your mind, you failed to notice his arm reaching towards your neck. It was until you felt a prick that a big flash banged, knocking the both of you away from each other.

Opening your eyes, you screamed as you were thrown around these odd strings of waves across…well who knows where.

Before you could even regain yourself, you felt something crash into you followed by another scream. It sounded older, yet very similar. ‘Probably dad’ you thought.

Opening an eye, you saw the familiar Batman insignia and wrapped your arms around the figure. Falling into a random portal-door-thingy, you yelped as the figure took most of the fall.

Rolling off them, you remained on the ground. “Ugh…thanks for catching me dad—”

“(Y/H/N)!” a voice called out. Turning your head towards the voice, you recognized the voice as the figure of your father ran towards you. Wait but then who was…

The person who caught you groaned, turning onto their side. Cape torn and helmet thrown across the debris of the ground, they grounded to their knees.

Constantine helped Zatanna up after she healed her arm, trying to figure out what happened. Klarion was gone and nowhere to be found.

The older figure groaned, rubbing at their head. Fuck, that was gonna leave a mark, you’ll have to hear about it from Naomi later.

Flinching, the figure heard a familiar voice call out to them. Seeing the man run towards the small child they saved from…who knows what, the figure’s eyes widened. Both them and the small child called out, “Dad?”

Wait. Both child (Y/N) and adult (Y/N) looked at eachother. “Did you just call him ‘Dad’?” you both said simultaneously. Bruce soon realized the situation, as soon as his eyes landed on the older figure, his eyes widened.

Was…that…is it…

You (adult version) looked on, terribly confused yet worried when you realized you weren’t back home. This wasn’t the Gotham you knew.

You couldn’t hear your butler, Naomi, over your ear piece anymore. And now you were somehow here, looking at…a younger version of yourself?

“Y-You're…” you stuttered out, struggling to finish a sentence. The child version of yourself also was finding it difficult to form words. “Y-You’re…”

“...You’re me?!”

Constantine gave a low whistle, at which Zatanna glared at him, silently telling him to shut up. “I’m too knackered for this…”

(IT MIGHT GET CONFUSING HERE SO READ CAREFULLY)

Arriving at the mansion, everyone was left in shock. If Bruce didn’t know how to feel, you can only imagine the rest of the family. Duke was the first to notice as Constantine teleported to the cave with a group in tow.

He was about to ask how the mission was. Fortunately he was drinking his coffee when he asked who the older figure was.

“This is (Y/N).” Bruce introduced the adult version of you. You nodded, still dazed. You couldn’t even look back at yourself.

Cue Duke spitting out his coffee followed by shattering cups as Alfred arrived with a—now broken—teapot and several cups. Both men looked unapologetically at the figure in shock.

(Adult) you on the other hand, was worse then (child) you at the moment. Feeling the need to throw their ripped cape around themselves as more people stared in shock.

You could feel tears threatening to fall when you noticed Alfred. In your universe, he was dead. Naomi took over the legacy.

Bruce ignored the shock on his son’s face, heading over to the computer. “Duke, I need you to bring the rest down here. I’ll try to find any possible trace of Klarion.”

“R-Right…” the boy couldn’t have run faster as he fled up the stairs. Alfred meanwhile snapped out of it and attempted to clean the mess he made. Trying his best not to look at the currently shaking figure, he called out to you.

“(Y/N), b-be a dear and assist me in this mess.”

The awkward silence happened when both (child) you and (adult) you began walking towards the butler.

The older version stopped once they realized, giving a small apology before gesturing (child) you towards the old man. The child version looked back, a slight pang in their chest after realization of the small droplets around your eyes.

Alfred was not in your older version’s world.

A pang hit your chest as you continued towards the butler. The older version slumped before recollecting themselves, heading towards Constantine and Zatanna. “There’s got to be a way to fix this.”

The two of them looked taken aback at how serious (adult) you could become all of a sudden. Zatanna smiled, “You definitely take after Bruce…” she muttered, but (adult) you heard. Choosing to ignore the statement, you asked, “Any way I can head back home, y'know to my universe?”

The woman seemed deep in thought as she began pacing, “Hmmm…”

Constantine looked at her, “What are ya doing?” The woman stopped, “Thinking of a way obviously.”

The man scoffed as he crossed his arms, “Of course there’s a way.” The two blinked at the man expectantly. He looked back before shrugging, “What?”

Zatanna rolled her eyes, “Tell us the way to get…older (Y/N) back home!” (adult) you held back a laugh, swallowing it down when both mages stared back. Ignoring them, you shot a look over the shoulder.

Your father—the one from a different universe—was focused on the big screen. At the feeling of being stared at, he turned his eyes away to look at you. He wanted to look away, that wasn’t his child…

Except it was.

He had so many questions as he maintained eye contact. You were a full grown adult, looking almost his current age. Your eyes were glassy, like the spark he sees in (child) you now was gone.

Completely void of any sort of joy. He noticed the few streaks of gray in your hair. Skin dull and almost unhealthy looking to the point of worry. An appearance anyone could comprehend.

In that universe, you looked tired.

You were tired.

Which is why Bruce couldn’t look at you. He didn’t want to see how he failed another child.

Breaking eye contact, the man continued to look for ways to deal with the situation. Luckily, Constantine said there was a way to fix this.

In the corner of his eyes he saw (adult) you look away, a frown on your face followed with a cast down. Tucking into your cape in an attempt to seem smaller, it gave him all the answers Bruce needed to know.

He did in fact fail you. Didn’t matter what universe it was from.

Zatanna and Constantine were going to be at the manor for a week it seems.

Apparently the spell they had both studied was time-based. They would have to wait an exact week before moonlight to conduct the spell.

Constantine claimed it was an easy ritual, but did nothing to calm nerves as he scattered through his book, obvious confusion written over his face.

Zatanna seemed more confident than the man, but at least she knew how to hide her perplexity.

In the meantime, (adult) you was going to be staying with you for a week. It’d give (child) you a chance to properly talk to them. Ask about their dimension, or was it the future?

Oh who knows anymore.

Currently (child) you sat back, eating some mango slices Alfred had prepared in a bowl, as you observed the older version of yourself in the backyard garden. A peaceful look on your face…or their face…or…

Whatever.

(adult) you seemed to be basking in the flower blushes. A day had barely passed and anyone had yet to talk to the other version of you.

It appeared a naturalistic setting was the perfect stress reliever.

Swinging back and forth, (child) you hummed before stabbing another mango slice with a fork.

“Mx. (Y/N) please don’t rock the chair back and forth. I wish to only wash the bowl once you're finished, not blood as well.” Giggling along with a clink of dropping the fork down, you faced the butler. “Sorry Alfred.”

Turning back to the window, the butler spoke again. “Would be a better option to join (Y/N) 2 outside; I'm certain they wouldn’t mind some extra company.”

Biting your lip, you poked at the leftover chunks of fruit. Although it did seem like a good idea, there was some hesitancy on your end. What would even be a good way to approach?

Shrugging, you looked back at the butler. “I don’t know…They’ve been pretty adamant about not talking to me…maybe I’d be bringing back some bad memories, Alfred.” The older man hummed, grabbing the bowl and adding some extra mangos.

“Well,” he began, “I, for one, believe that some communication could very much help; they do have to stay for a week. If (Y/N) 2 felt lonely before, I’d bet on how desolate they must be feeling at the moment.”

You nodded, grabbing the bowl he handed you. It was now refilled with more fruit. Observing the older you from another dimension, they were gazing at a Calluna. A forlorn look across their face.

Taking a deep breath, (child) you nodded. “Alright.”

Bowl in hand, you headed out and began walking towards (adult) you. Their back being the first thing you see, you noticed how they seemed to be still.

Hesitating, you swallowed down the anxiety and reached over to touch their shoulder. They had caught it before you could even touch. It caused you to let out a small scream and drop the fruit.

(Adult) you heard someone approaching and got on the defensive. Before they could even lay a hand, they turned over quickly and gripped the wrist.

Eyes widening they noticed it was (child) you with a bowl that was now on the floor…were those mangos? Noticing the tight grip, (adult) you quickly let go.

“S-Sorry…”

"Um…it's okay." (child) you let out a breath of relief when your wrist was released. Taking a step back, it was clear just how easily the future had changed…well, you.

Technically. Feature wise, you looked relatively the same, except there was a jagged scar running across your eyebrow. Pointing towards the mark, (child) you asked, "What happened?"

(adult) you gasped, attempting to cover the long-lasting reminder. It didn't seem to impress your younger counterpart as they raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Well? I'd at least like to know how I get my wicked scar from the future."

Hesitantly, (adult) you answered, "...I got it from someone."

"So…" (child) you dragged out, balancing on the balls of your feet innocently before asking excitedly, "Who gave it to me?!"

(adult) you raised a brow, confused. "You're not…disgusted by it? Horrified?"

(child) you let out a 'pfft'. Gesturing to your older counterpart you explained, "Hell no! You look so cool! Besides, that scar just gotta make a cool story! By the way, who'd you say gave it to you?"

(adult) you looked away from (child) you. Luckily, the bowl of ruined fruit laid on the floor. Thinking quickly, you grabbed at the bowl, "Uh hey! I think um…your butler might want this mess cleaned up."

Luckily, (child) you fell for the bait and gasped. Kneeling down, you helped your older counterpart pick up the ruined mango slices. Sighing, you explained how fruit was supposed to be a peace offering. Pausing, (child) you asked, "I like mango in your dimension, right?"

(adult) you chuckled, before standing up. "Thanks…how about we just sit down and talk instead?"

"Ok." (child) you nodded, leading them to the small picnic table setup. Once the two of you sat down, (adult) you smiled at their younger counterpart. "So what do you wanna know?"

(child) you smiled back, eyes twinkling, "Everything! Oh I got loads of questions I—"

The older version of you held back a laugh, it was beautiful how bright and energetic their younger self was back then. They'd do their best to explain as much as possible.

As long as the scar wasn't mentioned.

The boys were in the batcave, practicing like usual. Nothing major. Right?

Instead they were spilling the current gossip happening in the manor.

"I mean, did you see how badass (Y/N) 2 looks? I don't think Bruce has ever looked that awesome in a suit before."

"(Y/N) 2?" Jason asked Dick. The oldest brother shrugged, "Alfred came up with the name. It kinda stuck."

"Although we're supposed to be training like Father told us," Damian spoke up while stretching himself, "Grayson is right. Do you remember when Duke called us down to the cave and we first saw them?"

Tim nodded, "Yeah. It was like I was looking at a whole new Batman. Possibly more intimidating than Bruce to be honest. Although…" the boy sighed, "...kinda sucks how it's (Y/N). I mean, I could almost see how broken they were."

Jason crossed his arms, "I'm just glad there's finally someone other than me with a scar in this family."

"Jason!"

"Ow!" The second oldest brother felt a punch on his arm. It soon led to another following back. Next thing you know a giant rumble happened with all of them.

Reaching downstairs with your older counterpart, (child) you felt their hand grabbing onto yours.

'Hmm, weird' you thought.

Meanwhile (adult) you felt almost frozen at the sight of seeing all your brothers together again. As if the first time seeing them wasn't bad enough.

Hearing them laugh (Jason had Damian in a chokehold, much to Tim's joy and Dick's dismay) felt foreign to older you.

Despair filled in your gut. Your universe doesn't have this, not anymore. The stupid decisions led to loosing this. And the regret solidified every single day.

Seeing just how different your world was from your younger self, it felt like a bittersweet dream. Something you could've had but lost.

It made (adult) you freeze in your spot. You didn't want to take a step further, it was almost too painful. Feeling a tiny hand squeezing your large one, older you looked down to see your child counterpart smiling up at you. A look of comfort. Relief.

A look that says 'its okay'. Almost as if (adult) you could catch a break. For once in so many years. "Come on." (child) you said as you gently tugged them towards the boys.

It didn't take rocket science to tell (adult) you was ready to run back to the solitude of the garden.

But you weren't gonna let that happen.

"Hey guys!" The brothers all stopped at the notice of their youngest sibling along with…their other younger sibling behind them.

Raising a brow at Damian still pulling Dick's hair, (child) you hesitated, "Uh…shouldn't you all be training?"

(adult) you held back a laugh when Tim began flicking at Jason's ears, causing the man to growl at his younger brother before twisting his arm. The boy shrieked and threw a kick. It hit Damian and soon the rumble was about to begin once again.

"Hey! Guys! Stop!" Younger you yelled, but the sound was lost as the fighting seemed to get closer in both you and older yourself direction.

"We should move..." (adult) you gently shoved (child) you behind them. Your older counterpart walked up to the boys, cracking their knuckles before diving in.

With rapid speed, (adult) you first grabbed Jason, grabbing the base of skull and using your elbow to clock his face.

He couldn't even react before the man was thrown to the floor. Next was Dick, who was yanked from Tim and arm got twisted behind him. "What the—"

(adult) you kicked the back of his legs, successfully dropping him. Tim didn't get the chance to run away before he was spin-kicked down, landing on his back with a thud.

Last standing was Damian, who stared at your older self before scoffing. "Fine. We'll stop."

(adult) you nodded while giving the boy a smirk. "Very well."

(child) you gaped at your brothers on the ground, groaning from all three of them. Looking up at your older counterpart, you took an exhale. "That…was…awesome!!"

(adult) you looked at their younger self, confused. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"Um, are you kidding me? That was fucking radical!! The way you dropped Jason down like—" (child) you attempted to imitate the previous moves, "And then you were like! And he was like—"

you continued with your actions, making your older self let out a chuckle, "—And then that move you used on Tim was epic!"

"It was nothing. Honest." (adult) you mumbled, hand scratching the back of their head.

"Don't you dare say it was nothing. I just saw some extreme badass-ery before my very eyes"

"Language, (Y/N)..." Dick winced out to your younger self while still on the ground. (adult) you looked down at the boys, a sheepish yet awkward smile, "Sorry about that I uh…it's just that (Y/N) was trying to get you guys to stop and…"

"No we get it," Tim said, picking himself off the ground, "We were supposed to be training anyway."

"Ugh. I think they broke my brain." Jason moaned, holding onto the side of his head.

"Can't break what's already broken, Todd." Damian ducked as Jason threw a punch at him.

(adult) you watched on as your younger counterpart rushed to stop the rumble about to happen again. It felt nice to be here right now.

It may not have been what your world was like at all, but it was nice to see what it could have been.

Maybe later on when you get back, it could be.

Mistakes were fixable.

Sighing, (adult) you shook your head at the thought.

But not all of them.

A week had gone by so fast now that your older self was easing more into the lifestyle (child) you had. It grew nice to see them smile and laugh along with (child) you.

After learning more about one another, the two of you grew closer. It oddly felt like you had gained another sibling.

You liked it.

Hence why it almost broke your younger self’s heart when Constantine and Zatanna showed up on Sunday later that night. Currently resting on one of the walls of the ratty tents of the abandoned circus. Where this whole mess began.

Both in your suits (all-be-it your older self in their tattered one again), all you were waiting on was for Bruce to call you over while Zatanna performed the spell.

“Why are we here again?” (adult) you asked your younger self. Looking up at them, (child) you explained, “Constatine said for the spell to work, he and Zatanna need to conduct it in the same place you were pulled from.”

“Ah…”

There was a pregnant silence where neither of you spoke. Looking up at the broken ferris wheel, your older self began. “Y’know…It felt pretty nice this week. Thanks.”

“Hm? What do you mean?” Eyes meeting with your younger counterpart, you gave them a smile, “My world is completely different from yours. I don’t have this family like you do. Or at least I had something like it, but I can never get it back.”

“Oh…” (child) you looked down at your shoes. You felt almost guilty at the idea that you have the privilege of experiencing what your older self could not. Seeing them kneel down, they put a hand on your shoulder.

“You were able to show me the ins and out of your life, with your family and the love you share. Although I don’t get to have this anymore. Just knowing that in another dimension such as someone like you has it…well it’s all that matters to me at this point. Knowing that I, that you, are given this world is all worthwhile in the end.”

(child) you stared at your older self, before going to hug them. They stiffened under you as your tiny arms wrapped around them. “Thank you…”

You felt your older self’s arm hug you closer, ��For what?”

“...I don’t know, for everything.” (child) you mumbled. (adult) you swallowed the lump in your throat as you closed your eyes.

You’ll be damned if you let any tears fall.

Pulling away from each other, your younger self took this time for one more question. “Yeah?”

“Can you please tell me…who gave you that scar?” they pointed to the one that ran across your brow. Your older self sighed, responding with only a dull stare. “I wish I could tell you.”

“Why can’t you?”

Because I don’t want you to despise Bruce. You don't deserve it. That’s my world not yours.

“...(Y/N)?” (child) you asked when your older self didn't respond. They were about to say something when Bruce called over the communicator he gave his child.

Voice crackling through the machine, he ordered you both that the spell was ready. Your older self gave you a smile, reaching to ruffle your hair.

“Let’s go.”

Welp. I've been busy with work, so I won't apologize for taking so long. BUT I WILL APOLOGIZE for not notifying any of you yet on updates. I will say that if you have sent in a request you will get a response, I promise that much :)

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