#Batfamily x Batmom

[the-daydreaming-show]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 — “I am, I have been, and I was born hungry.”

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: An abandoned son makes a decision. The cared for son is taken away.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫(𝐬): Bruce Wayne X ScarletWitch!Reader; Jason Todd x Batmom!ScarletWitch!Reader; Tim Drake x Batmom!ScarletWitch!Reader; Jason Todd x Tim Drake.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: kidnapping, mention of PTSD, weapons, threats (silent), drugs and forced drug use, death of Janet Drake, and mention of Jack Drake in the hospital, Jason is mansplaining, manipulating and manslaughter his way through this sequel.

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: This took a while because I had a precise plan for this sequel, but writing this chapter, something possessed me and changed everything. So, now I'm not sure what's going to happen, it's all in destiny hands now on!!!

Thanks to our beta reader, the wonderful @igotmessymind for her work, as always, I appreciate you very much!!

Now, I would like to make a special mention of @andieperrie18, who made a playlist base on the Batmom Scarlet Witch.

And I need you to admire this masterpiece, because this playlist doesn't just include songs. NOO, It also has dialogue between Batmom and Bruce at the beginning, and it's just gold. Also go to check the other playlist in her channel, they have some good stuff. The small talks and slow dancing with Bruce Wayne is one of my favorites!!!

So, thank you very much to you @andieperrie18 for your love and the dedication it took to make this playlist. I don't have enough words to show my adoration and gratitude for this playlist. So everyone, please go give them love to the playlist while reading this chapter!!

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐔𝐬 / Prelude / Next Part

Jason knew he was not walking on good ground. He hadn't been since he was revived in the Lazarus Pit. He hadn't been when he had killed criminals to try to control Gotham's crime. Nor when he had to escape from Arkham Asylum after Batman had locked him there, under the excuse that it was best for him.

Lies. 

All were lies.

He knew it now more than ever as he looked at his wall.

Jason was sitting in an old chair facing the wall, where a variety of photos, newspaper clippings, maps, and notes were displayed. 

Seeing that wall told him that he was definitely slipping into a new territory of madness. 

But-he-couldn't-stop. It was like he was on a slide, and he couldn't dig his heels in to stop. A part of him didn't want to stop. 

Just as he hadn't wanted to soften the news of his return to Bruce, that part of Jason wanted revenge with every atom of his true self. And now it was pushing him towards that wall. 

Another part of him, though, didn't want to do this. It was the part that still made him want to put his hands in his mouth to eat his cuticles, like he had done as a child. That part wanted to approach you on the street, and calmly let you explain why you hadn't sought him out. So that he could move on somehow, in a way that would make you proud of how Jason had handled everything.

But you had abandoned him.

After Bruce found out he was alive, Jason had hoped that once he told you all of it, you'd show up at his door. Jason had been ready to listen to your logical arguments and leave the whole killing thing behind. 

¿Who cared about revenge and Gotham if there was a chance to get back with his mom? 

Not to Jason.

You didn't; you never showed up. 

And now the part that wanted revenge was screaming too loud for him to hear anything else.

So there he was, sitting in a chair, arms crossed, as he carefully admired the wall he had created.

There were pictures of you picking up Timothy Drake from school, taking him shopping, hugging him at galas, and chatting with him at fashion events. Events that you had probably only been invited to, but you had convinced the team to let you take someone else, the same way you did with Jason when he was young. You probably took him to eat at your favorite restaurant every Friday after school, like they did with him. You probably also turned off the light in his room every night after saying goodnight, like you did with Jason.

No shame; you had given everything that was Jason's to that boy. 

That's why you weren't looking for him when you found out he was alive. You had replaced him with that kid, the same way Bruce had, and you deserved the same kind of punishment.

You deserved his revenge. And you will receive it.

You were in your office, in your brand's office building, a few blocks from Wayne Tower, where your entire clothing brand has done most of its business since you married Bruce. The official and original store of your brand is still in Metropolis, where it all started, but you moved the main offices to Gotham when you got married. So all of your children spent time between Wayne Tower and your building.

Usually, that was where they ended up after school.

Tim was supposed to go there after school. Typically, you would go pick him up. But that day he was staying a few extra hours at school for his Debate Club, and he would walk with his friends to their houses and meet you before you left the office that afternoon. So you were surprised when, as you were evaluating some new designs, your phone lit up with your youngest son's phone number.

“Mom,” Tim’s voice immediately sounded on the other end of the phone when you answered. He sounded nervous.

“Tim, honey,” you said, looking up at the clock. “Did I forget to pick you up?”, and immediately, your mind goes into paranoia, convinced that Tim had asked you to go look for him, and that's why he was calling you, and you had forgotten.

“No, no. Mom, it's fine,” he assured you quickly. You could hear chatter in the background, like someone was encouraging him to talk. “Mom, do you know today is Friday, right?”

Obviously, you remembered that it was Friday. On Fridays, when Tim came home from school, the two of you would go out to dinner at your favorite restaurant as a traditional mother-son activity.

“Yes, I've noticed,” you said, closing the sketchbook to give the boy your full attention.

“And we always go to eat at Julián's on Fridays after school, without fail,” he continues explaining. You assumed he was going somewhere, so you murmured an affirmation. “Well, you saw Dylan, my chemistry classmate. He and others are going to eat at a pizzeria near the school, and they invited me. After eating, we are all going to go to his house to play video games. If you're okay with that, I would like to go. Or I'll just go eat and go back home early. I-” Tim was already in babbling territory; you could barely contain your laughter when you interrupted him.

“It's okay, Tim. I don’t mind a change of plans, darling,” you assured him, and you could see his shoulders relax even from your building. “I'll take advantage and visit your father's office; I'll ask him to accompany me on an impromptu date.”

“Okay, okay. Yes, that sounds good.” Tim was smiling as big as he could, while around him, his classmates were singing victory for the afternoon they had organized. “I'll let you know where we are and call you when it's time to come home. I love you.”

Before you could tell him that he didn't need to tell you exactly where to be and at what time, Tim hung up the call, too excited about the whole thing. To which you inevitably laughed, happy that Tim had an activity, say a boy his age, and that he was so excited about it. You had met Dylan a couple of times; he was a good kid, so you were sure everything would be fine.

Jason watched Tim walk with his friends all night.

After observing him for weeks, he realized that the chic lived based on a fairly consistent routine. One that repeated itself almost around the clock for some reason, but Jason suspected that it had to do with the post-traumatic stress the boy must have had after the Joker's attack on his biological parents the year before. The boy's mother was six meters underground, and his father was on medical care for life because of all this. Jason almost felt bad for him. Almost.

This also meant that you and Bruce were very aware of the boy's routine, so if Tim were to disappear for even a couple of hours, it would ruin your plan. So he chanced it, waiting for the ideal moment to feed his need for revenge.

So when the sixteen-year-old decided to leave school one afternoon in the company of a group of other kids his age, he was clearly not on his way to your office like he usually did.

Jason took the phone out of his pocket and gave the order to start.

The group of friends went into a hidden, but sufficiently crowded, pizzeria a few blocks from the house of the boy Dylan, to whom Tim seemed closest in the group.

Jason had quickly discovered that Tim was a smart kid. He was too smart for Jay to trick him or accidentally cause him to fall into a trap of some kind.

But he had also discovered that Tim was, like Bruce, an idiot for justice.

He had watched him risk his life more than necessary for civilians while he ran around as Robin, when Jason from afar could have found about five ways to save the civilians without getting in the way. Tim jumped in to save them with his own hands every time there was a lethal risk. It could be that the weight of not having helped his parents was still eating him alive too.

But one way or another, Jason would use that to his advantage.

Jason walked into the pizzeria, followed by five other men he knew Tim would recognize. It was because he had gotten them out of jail, especially because Robin had dragged them and put them there, with the aim of getting them to help him. The proposed men didn't know he was there for that reason; they were just doing their job for the money, unaware of the mental games Jason was playing with the teenager.

And Tim Drake understood what was going to happen the moment he saw Jason. She looked him in the eyes and smiled as she casually glanced at the table of the group of friends, who were still wearing their school uniforms.

“Timothy, little one,” Jason greeted casually, putting his hands in his pockets and watching as Tim's eyes went to the way that movement revealed the reflection of a gun on his hip. “I've been looking for you!!”

Jason knew exactly how Tim would react and looked at the situation. They had both been trained by the same man at the end of the day. They were a reflection of each other, and that is why it was a dangerous game. “Are you hungry, Timothy? Because I am starving.”

Jason wasn't talking about the pizzas, and Tim knew it quickly. But he couldn't do anything, not with Jason so armed and clearly accompanied. Both were surrounded by so many civilians, and Tim's friends. His new friends, who had been patient with him and had accepted him into his group, which he had been joining since they were children. But they still tried to integrate him and invited him to things, again and again, until that day he accepted for the first time in months.

The table had fallen silent at the extra situation, but Tim seemed to know the stranger who had sat down, so they didn't say anything. But Dylan, as kind and caring as he was, saw the way the color had drained from Tim's face. So he spoke.

“Don't worry, Dylan,” Jason told him, which took Dylan by surprise since he had never told the stager his name, and he got genuinely worried now. “He just needs something to drink; he's just dehydrated. Timmy works a lot and doesn’t take care of himself.”

While talking to Dylan, Tim watched as Jason grabbed his glass of soda that he had been drinking while they waited for the pizzas. Without anyone else noticing, Tim watched as Jason dropped a pill into the drink, which was probably intended to knock him out, or at least drug him enough to make it manageable for Jason.

All without anyone else noticing, just so he could see it and know what was going on. He was faced with the reality that he couldn't do anything, and he couldn't fight, not at such a potential price. He was trapped. 

It made Tim feel alarmingly alone, despite being surrounded by people.

“Here, drink something.” Jason handed him the glass, where the gas from the soda easily hid the bubbles that the pill made as it dissolved. “It will do you good.”

The two stood face-to-face for a moment as the older brother offered the glass, and Jason didn't need to make the threat for Tim to understand. 

Or Tim drank the soda and voluntarily sedated himself. Or he would get him out of there in a much more aggressive way. And some bullets could be lost in that situation, so Jason could make sure that his friends were the ones who received them.

Tim could see the decapitated bodies of Black Mask's lieutenants, found shortly after Red Hood appeared in Gotham, before Bruce discovered his identity.

So he grabbed the glass and brought it to his mouth. Tim gave Jason a last pleading look, to which the boy just smiled sweetly. And your youngest son just wanted to scream for you, but you didn't know Jason was alive, and you suspected that's exactly what Jason wanted.

He wouldn't put you in danger.

Bruce would handle everything; Tim trusted that.

Tim downed the glass of soda in four gulps and didn't remember anything else after that.

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭: @some-lovely-day @simonsbluee @yuki-chan23 @miyakana @myst3batz @otchae @d3m0n8ch1ld @marsenbie @mynameisnotlaura @andieperrie18 @totallynotme420 @igotmessymind @amarawayne @calsjack @kodzukenmaaa @mellowdiy @noah-uhhh-what @blarba-girl @dead-sane-stuff @huhuhhuhh @ashlynnmalfoy @kimmis-stuff @undecided-shipper @justafanficsreader @poppyalice2001 @holdyuhmuda @jiabae @mara-moon @avitute @lafrone

#batfamily x reader #all for us #jason todd x batmom #batmom #tim drake x batmom #batmom!reader #batfam x reader #dick grayson x batmom #scarletwitch!batmom!reader #scarletwitch!reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #batfam imagine #batfamily #batfamily x batmom

[apocalypse-shuffle]

RED HOOD | BATFAMILY (assorted canon)

────────────────────

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“Long Overdue” (Jason Todd & Batmom!Reader) and (background Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)

| Reader was with Bruce in the past but grew distant after Jason’s death. No one tells her when he comes back from the dead until Bruce is forced to bring her in on a raid when they’re overwhelmed. -Jason and Batmom!Reader reunion.

| SFW, canon typical action/violence, cursing?, crying?

| This is like half fanon half UTRH/Batman:Hush. I’m really just fucking around with canon rn. Also the pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (pic source - Batman: Three Jokers comic)

| 2k+ words

| parts: one, spurt, two, three, four, five, six/six point five, seven.

Ma. God, no one called you that anymore. The way your eyes begin to prickle is a clear indication.

With you Dick wasn’t the type. Once he’d worked himself up to it he’d called you mom; slightly different from the few ways he referred to his bio mother, but something shared between the two of you all the same.

And Tim? Well he wasn’t your child plain and simple. Tim still had his parents for one, and for two he was intrinsically Bruce’s. By the time he’d figured his way into the Batcave you’d been gone, most of your shit moved out of the manor, and desperately waving divorce papers Bruce refused to acknowledge in the air. You didn’t have anything to do with his indoctrination outside of exactly one instance of him finding you to ask if you’d reconsider the separation. Some Batman needed a Robin and Bruce Wayne needed his wife type shit.

Either way Tim didn’t call you any rendition of mom because you weren’t his. The most you got was him addressing you by your maiden name and then eventually your first and you were content with that.

Then if he didn’t call you mom, the girls sure as hell didn’t either. Outside of Barbara the others never even became regular conversation partners. Cass was a rare sighting in your life and Stephanie and you’s relationship would never progress past the casual advocacy you tried giving her because she was another dead Robin to add to what’s now technically a list.

At the end of the day, out of all the people who considered you a mother, only Jason added that ‘a’ and you wanted to grip that name tight and hold it to you. Break your ribs open and force it into your chest cavity. The need to fulfill that ache cuts deep and you take a step forward.

Jason startles though, undoing all his own forward progress, and you falter. That’s right. Jason didn’t like for people to touch him. Definitely didn’t like hugs either. Not surprise ones at least. Before his death you’d gotten close enough he didn’t mind when you swooped in, but now?

“Can I-? Can I hug you?” You press trembling lips together for another horrible swallow. “Please…?”

Jason jerks, two hastily aborted movements at once, before his obstructed voice meets your ears.

“Fine.”

You practically fall on him before pulling him into you. Unfortunately he’s just as stiff as his voice and you have to take a second to figure out how to slot against him.

Jason fits in your arms differently than he used to - broader and taller by a mile - but after a few beats he relaxes into them just the same. The subtle addition of weight makes a sob bubble up your throat.

You rap your knuckles on the side of the helmet.

“Take this shit off.”

He hesitates and a sharp pang manages to worm its way into the already shitty cocktail of emotions you’re feeling. It hits your spine like lightning, forces you up and has you an arms length away in half an inhale.

Maybe before now you’d been going through too much all at once for the trepidation to hit, but it was hitting now. You’d never seen Hood without- well without the Hood. Only Jumbie raised from the dead the way Jason did, and while you’d take your son anyway you could get him you wouldn’t accept some Thing parading around in his skin.

Reading your burst of movement for what it is, Jason backtracks, rising arms dropping to his sides. “Maybe I shouldn’t…”

“Jason Peter-” you inhale deeply, catching yourself, and hold a hand up to stop him. You both ignore the obvious way it trembles. “-only… if…if you want to. I’m not trying to force anything.”

He’s slow to nod, weight shifting from his left to his right leg and back again before he says something too low for you to hear. You’re about to ask him to repeat when he speaks up, this time aiming his voice somewhere around your shoulder while bowing his head.

“No, I- Alright. Just hold on.”

Haunches suitably raised and heart in your throat you pay close attention as the helmet comes up, Jason having released some catch in the back.

It goes over, the helmet clatters to the ground, and the man who stares back at you is…hard to place.

The low fluorescent lighting of the narrow room combined with the concrete walls casts soft enough shadows over his face that while his features are warped they’re not discernible. Which means you can’t completely rule out the uncanniness wafting off of him as just your brain (along with your entire perception of the universe) splinting in half.

It makes your face heat up. He looks familiar, but you can’t say you wouldn’t have passed him straight if you’d seen him on the street. He’s too big for one, even for how you’d all imagined he’d look grown up, standing more than a foot taller than the last day you saw him. Taller than malnourishment would’ve ever let him be.

The sob you let out makes you both flinch.

One hand snaps to your mouth, the other waving him off.

“I’m sorry I- I don’t-. This is just-”

Even with the way he’s leaning away from you he shakes his head. “I get it, it's fine.”

His voice is faint, cut up and hoarse like he hasn’t used it in a while, and it’s the prettiest thing you’ve heard in ages.

“Oh,” you laugh. The wet kind that makes your throat sticky. You can only stare at him, blurry form and all, words lost to you.

Eventually, after watching your fervent effort to wipe away tears that are in no way inclined to give you a break, arms crossed Jason takes a half step forward with a shrug.

“We can…try again?”

The next little laugh you let out you practically choke on but you nod all the same.

When Jason’s the first to move your heart starts speeding away like an overexcited middle school drumline. You roll with it though, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes so they’re dry enough for you to actually see him clearly for a few seconds.

When he’s directly in front of you your hands come up slowly, giving him plenty of opportunity to move away. Or maybe to vanish.

When he does neither, only giving you a guarded look, you allow yourself to touch.

Problem is, the domino mask he’s wearing very quickly gets in your way and on your nerves when you move to frame his face. Quickly feels like if it’s not gone, if you can’t see his eyes, you’ll throw up.

To stop yourself from taking the risk and ripping it off you have to take a deep breath. Have to force down the thick build up of saliva gathering in your mouth so it pushes back the bile climbing up your throat.

“I’d like to see my son, Jason. All of you.”

To emphasize your point you tap the tip of your nail against the mask. There’s no intention on your part to cross his boundary but Jason’s hands snap up to hold onto your wrists all the same.

You look into the white lenses of his domino, fingers buzzing along the corner of the mask closest to them. His mouth twists into a frown.

“Please?”

You beg with the same ferocity a grieving mother once used when begging for her child back.

“You’re asking for a lot.”

He lets go and he takes a couple steps back and you don’t cry.

No, instead you swing your hands behind you. Clasping them together in a poor attempt to stop the buzzing sensation that travels from the tips of your fingers to take over your entire hand.

“Mmm,” you incline your head. “Well. I did help a boy get over first date jitters with a made up song once. Let that same boy talk me through an entire dissertations’ worth of his analysis of Their Eyes Were Watching God - as choppy as it was - because TWMS wouldn’t allow him to present it in class. Let him skip going to that same school and cry to me for hours after the death of Gloria Stanson. Remember a knife hidden in the corner on the highest shelf in his closet, and I remember not revealing any of that when I gave his eulogy because he once asked me to keep the important things between the two of us. So you don’t have to show me, but I think I make a pretty good qualifier when it comes to keeping this safe.”

You point straight to where his heart is tucked safely behind layers of gray armor before shrugging.

From the way his brows furrow over the domino you know he’s at least thinking about it so you step away to pick up your disregarded mask and stuff it in your waistband.

One blink. Six.

“You remember Rena?”

In front of him again, you rock back on your heels. “Mhm. And the ‘how to tie a tie’ lessons me and Bruce walked you through even though you didn’t wear a suit to that date. Remember that too.”

Jason’s smile is crooked on his face but it’s nonetheless present as he makes a noise of agreement.

“I’d just wanted to spend time with you two, I was never planning on wearing a suit to go to the skating rink.”

“We figured.”

You’re rolling onto the balls of your feet when that small smile drops and he shakes his head.

“I’m not that same boy anymore.”

You take in the way he could raise his hand and so easily touch the ceiling without having to jump. You clear the phlegm from your throat.

“I can tell.”

Jason grunts and makes a general gesture indicating something somewhere behind you.

“And I got no interest in trying to live up to whatever fucked up embalment Bruce’s got going on with my burnt suit in that case.”

That suit. Bruce’s memorial. His warning. Your breath hitches as you think of the smell of crisped blood and methanol. If Jason didn’t want to talk about it you sure as shit weren’t going to.

“I will one hundred percent take that into account.” You keep it simple, rocking on your heels again. He wasn’t asking for anything unreasonable so there wasn’t really any debate to be had. “You wanna be treated as you are? I can do that.”

Moments pass once you’ve said your peace where Jason does nothing but stare at you. The only indication he’s at all alive being his shoulders still moving - and you are watching. Eyeing that tell tale up and down like your own life will end at its falter. The pattern is slow enough to come off as pacivity but the time between each rise and fall is too measured to be uncontrolled. Exactly three point eleven seconds one way and three point eleven seconds the other. Every time.

Then he sighs, curses, and the little veil of dissolvent for the adhesive that adheres the mask to his face is in his hand. A different vial and color than when he was Robin; you don’t know why you thought it’d be the same. Or why it makes your heart clench that it’s not.

Between one thrum of the fluorescent lights and the next Jason is peeling away the domino, and you would be lying if you claimed to know where it disappeared to after that. Too caught up on what he’d been hiding to track it.

Blue. Nothing more and nothing less. Just blessedly familiar, vibrant blue. Not the dull gray they’d become by the time you were given the chance to put a gruesome sight of a child six feet under.

The “Oh wow,” tumbles from you without permission and then there’s zero hope for the waterworks you’d been holding back. The levee fails and you’re bawling before you know it. Barely holding back snot and who knows what else since you already feel like screaming.

At that point there’s no carefully thought out sentence for you to spew, no more hesitancy, no more measured breathing, and linear thought. Just the crushing need to have him close to you again.

You’re rushing forward before you know.

Wrapping your arms around Jason the next go around is both the best and the worst thing. You accommodate his new size faster, already writing over the ways he used to fit against you with the ways he does so now, but he’s still so stiff and he’s not reciprocating the hug either.

Maybe you should let go. You crossed the boundary too fast. Were too reckless. You literally have training on this and now you’re crowding him.

Okay, you’re pulling away. It’s a herculean effort but you’re forcing your arms from around his middle. You’ve got to, you don’t want to scare him off. Not when you just got him back.

There’s a soft “Not yet,” mumbled into your shoulder and then arms finally come around yours and you don’t hesitate to snap your own back into place.

He’s hugging you back.

You cry a little harder and bring one of your arms up to drape across his shoulders, pulling him closer. When you start rocking and Jason copies your momentum you press a kiss onto his temple.

“Hi,” you stutter out. Another sob. “Hi baby.”

Since he’s finally letting his arms wrap around you you don’t hesitate to run dark fingers through the truly unruly mass of black curls on his head. His hairs’ damp - most likely from sweat - but cool. Probably being tempered by the cold air blowing into the room.

It’s when you press a kiss to his forehead that you feel something else wet and your breath stutters.

“It’s okay. I got you, everything’s okay,” you whisper.

“God Ma-” his voice cracks and then you can hear the sobs he’s trying to muffle into your suit. “No it’s not.”

“I know,” you sob. “I’m sorry- so so fucking sorry.”

You sniffle and pull away to see him better. Jason’s face is flushed, his eyes wet, and cheeks streaked with tears shed. You hold your hands up to frame his face for a second time and run your thumbs through the tear tracks. His chest heaves as his body tries to regulate his breathing.

Jason clears his throat, gaze boring into yours. “Hi,” he says.

You smile, finally beginning to map out his face. First you move to frame his cheeks, too feel the warmth in them. To see if they still feel familiar. They don’t; you force yourself to accept that fact without letting it show in your expression, letting out a measured exhale before continuing. You find his jaw is more defined now too, cheeks devoid of the baby fat of five years prior.

From then on brushing your thumbs along his brows, over the bridge of his nose, traveling over his ears and skirting around his hairline - it all fills your mind with incoherent cheers.

Your thumbs hover over Jason’s eyes and you hum when he closes them for you.

The skin underneath your shaved off pads is soft. The thin layer of protection allows you to feel how his eyeballs shift, to see the way his veins show stark under light skin, to clock the life thrumming through him.

It makes your heart feel so goddamn light. You can’t stop smiling at the sight of him. Eyes still wet but clear.

“I feel like such a horrible mother,” you hiccup, hands slide down so you can once again cup his face. “I barely recognize you.”

Jason’s breathing shakes nearly in tandem with yours and his eyes squeeze tighter shut, head turning away.

“Don’t.” He takes a second to look up. Look right through you. Lashes wet and glassy eyes open, voice grating over his next words. “Don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault. I don’t blame any of you for that, but especially not you.”

What you want to do is argue. You should’ve never let him put on that suit in the first place, one fucked up son should’ve been the end of it. You should’ve dropped the case you were working the second you’d heard he’d run away and you should’ve found him. Instead you keep your thoughts personal, pinning them to your brain as if it’s a cushion so that you’ll never forget, and pull your son closer. An action which he allows, resting his head on your shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re back,” you whisper into his hair. The way he instantly shakes his head makes the cool strands tickle your jawline.

“You can’t mean that.”

“If I didn’t mean it I wouldn’t have said it, Jay.”

Jason tenses before responding, words spewing without warning.

“Yeah except I’ve killed people, and I don’t regret it, and Bruce hates that - and you probably do too - but his way isn’t good enough. The people in this city deserve better so I’m doing what’s necessary-”

And that has you bristling. He must notice too because he stops short and edges away, face steeping. Caught somewhere between wanting to leave and wanting to fully kick start an argument.

…TBC

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed! I had to split this bitch in two cause it was 5,000+ words and I’m not in the business of under-indulging myself.

Listen, I’ve looked into it. Every mother/mother figure Jason’s ever had he’s referred to as “Mom”, but me personally, I didn’t grow up addressing my own mother that way so I wanted to play around with “Ma” (differentiate a little). What's funny though, is that I’ve read Dick referring to his mother as both “Ma” and “Mom” so that’s fun.

• TWMS = Thomas Wayne Middle School

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.

Tagged: @aarinisreading, @niphredil-14, @mxtokko, @calsjack, @brunnetteiwik

#jason todd #red hood #black!reader #black y/n #black!batmom #•long overdue (the series) #batmom & jason todd #jason todd x batmom #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #jason todd angst #batfamily x black!batmom #batmom x jason todd #batfamily x batmom #bruce wayne x batmom #divorced!batmom #batmom angst #batmom #batmom!reader #batfamily x black!reader #bruce wayne x black!batmom!reader #bruce wayne x black!reader #x black reader #jason todd x black!reader #jason todd fanfiction #batfamily fic #batfamily angst

[ragingbookdragon]

The four boys watched her from the doorway of the kitchen. “So, how are we gonna do this? One ask and the other three butter her up?” Tim asked, looking up at Jason who looked up at Dick who was looking down. “Who’s gonna ask mom for permission?”

“Richard should,” Damian offered. “He was the first son.”

“Just because I was the first son doesn’t mean I’m the favorite.”

Jason scoffed. “Yes, you are. You’re the Golden Child. You ask ma.”

“Why not Tim? Mom coddles Timmy all the time.”

Tim scowled. “She does not, Dick.”

“She does too,” the three answered and a new weight added onto their heads causing them to look up to see their father.

“Are we still trying to decide which one of us is gonna ask mom if we can rent out the skating rink for a sleepover?”

Jason blinked. “Old man, why don’t you ask ma?”

Bruce snorted. “Because she’ll say no if I do. That’s why one of her kids has to.” He looked down. “You do it, Jason.”

“Why me?”

“You’re the favorite.”

“I am?”

“Yep.”

“It’s not Dickhead?”

“HEY!”

“Dick made your mother want to strangle him multiple times while he was growing up. You were the only one who listened to her.”

Tim waved a hand. “Hey! I listen to mom!”

“No, you don’t,” the four answered and he pouted.

“Well, why doesn’t Damian ask? He’s the baby.”

Damian puffed his chest out. “I am the baby. Umi will say yes to me.”

“I doubt that, two-bit,” Jason said. “If I’m the favorite, I should ask then.”

“You boys know I can hear you, right?” she said, and they all looked up to see her staring at them with a cocked brow. “Like this isn’t some cartoon where I’m unsuspecting of the five heads poking around the corner. I can see and hear you.”

They looked at each other, then Jason piped up, “Ma, can we—”

“I’ve already rented the skating rink for the sleepover party and contacted all the Justice League to contact their protégés to come over,” she answered with a sigh and before she could do anything, she was met with four boys bellowing with joy as they hugged her tightly.

Bruce watched his family fondly and walked over, leaning to peck her lips. “You already knew, didn’t you, Missus Wayne?”

She winked. “Perks of having a superwoman for a mom and a wife, huh, Mister Wayne?”

He laughed, pecking her lips again. “You know it.”

#batmom imagines #batmom imagine #batmom #batmom x batfamily #batmom x batfam #batfamily x batmom imagine #batfamily x batmom imagines #batfamily x batmom #batfamily x reader imagines #batfamily x reader imagine #batfamily x reader #batfamily imagines #batfamily imagine #batfamily #bruce wayne x reader imagine #bruce wayne x reader imagines #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne imagines #batman x reader imagine #batman x reader imagines #batman x reader #batman imagines #batman imagine #dc imagines #dc imagine

[innerwomen]

Terms and conditions.

Pairing: Fiancé!Bruce Wayne x (female) Reader x Batboys

SUMMARY: Your about to become the ninth member of the Wayne family, but first the boys have some terms and conditions.

TYPE: Fluff/Crack.

WARNINGS: mention of pregnancy.

When Bruce and you announced to the boys that you were engaged, they had some requirements…

“Eh-hem” Damien said as he stood in front of you and Bruce who were sitting on the couch. “First and foremost, congratulations Y/n.” He says to you, then looks at Bruce. “Father, I didn’t know you had it in you.” Next to him, his three older brothers stood.

“What the meaning of all this, Damien?” Bruce asks skeptically.

“Though we, oh-so-love, you and Y/n’s relationship, we have some conditions before you both say ‘I do’ at the alter.” Jason says as he hands you and your fiancé a paper.

“Is this a contract?” You say in disbelief.

“Utterly and completely legal one at that.” Tim confirms.

“How did you even do this? And who gave you permission to get a lawyer and-”

“Father, please. You have an assassin, a vigilante, a superhero and a nerd as sons. We can legalize a contract.” By the way Damien speaks, you know this was his idea.

“Am I the superhero?”

“No, Tim, your the nerd.”

Bruce stands up, “As cute as this is, me and Y/n are grown ups and can decide for ourselves our own boundaries in our marriage.”

Dick push’s Bruce back down to his spot on the couch next to you, “These aren’t boundaries for you two, it boundaries we have for you towards us.”

“Bruce let’s just hear them out, we don’t have to sign them right now or at all,” you wanted to know these boundaries because as the ‘new parent’ you needed to know where you stood with the boys.

“Thank you, Y/n. Finally some sense in this family.” Damien says. “First on the list…. We ask you both be two responsible grown beings when succumbing to your carnal desires and evidentially spending your nights together.”

You choke. “What?”

“Why did you say it in old English?” Jason asks Damien, “he means, please for the small remaining peace of this household, don’t get pregnant.”

Bruce throws the paper and abruptly stands, “OKAY, that’s enough of whatever this was.”

#bruce wayne #bruce x reader #bruce wayne x reader #damien wayne #damian wayne #batmom #batfamily x reader #batman x reader #batfam x reader #dc imagine #dc x reader #batman #batfamily #dick grayson #batfam #dick and tim #jason todd #timothy drake #tim drake #x reader fanfiction #x reader fluff #x reader stories #fem reader #dc batman #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #Bruce #female reader

[battymommastuff]

The Fire-Eater

Batmom x Batman, Batmom x Batfamily

Prompt: While digging through the attic, Dick Grayson and Jason Todd uncover a secret about their adoptive mother. A secret that reveals the true, and dark story of the most loved couple in Gotham City

Masterlist

!!DISCLAIMER!! - This likely won't be comic accurate (Obviously), but I did draw inspiration from the comics. If you are looking for something accurate, then this fanfic isn't for you.

*cough*

"Jesus Christ, you'd think they would dust up here once in a while." Jason rasps as he waves his hand in the air to clear the cloud of dust. Dick just rolled his eyes and lifted another box out of the way, causing another cloud of dust to poof into the air, "Where is this damn blanket anyway?" He asked, ripping open an old box to look for the blanket in question. Why? You, their adopted mother, is currently carrying their youngest sibling. The first, and only pregnancy of yours. Seeing that you aren't as young as you used to be, the pregnancy is a high risk. As per doctor's orders, you were to remain on bed rest now that you were close to your due date.

Before that, you'd been working on the nursery. Everything was perfect, but you were missing one thing. Bruce's baby blanket. A blanket you'd only ever seen in pictures, but knew that you wanted it for your future child. Unfortunately, that didn't seem to be possible. All of your children were far too old for the blanket when they were adopted. Now you had your baby on the way, and you wanted that blanket. To prevent you from climbing up there yourself, your two oldest sons decided to.

"Some of the boxes are older than me." Dick joked as he held up a box of old photo albums. The date on the box was ten years before he was born. He set the box down, and kept shifting through the boxes. They were looking for a box with Bruce's birth year on it. All of his baby items were stored there. He moved another box then frowned when he saw one tucked in a far corner. It was opened, and he saw a black outfit lined with red sequins, an outfit he swore he's seen before...a circus outfit. What caught his eye next was a rolled up poster, "Hey, Jason." He called out while picking up the poster. Dick unrolled it slowly, then felt his heart sink to his stomach.

A poster for Haly's Circus. The Circus he was apart of before his biological parents died. He still remembered that day as if it just happened. On the poster was a woman eating fire. Her outfit, a black leotard with red sequins lining it. (H/C) hair, and (S/C) skin. Unless Bruce had a certain type, there was no way it couldn't be you. How? How was this possible? He remembered meeting you that night. You were dressed as if you just walked out of business meeting, and you were with Bruce. The date on the poster dated years before you ever met Bruce.

Dick set the poster down right as Jason approached him, still grumbling about all of the dust. He picked up a small book next. Opening it, he found pictures. Old pictures of you, and other members of the circus. You and Haly...you and his parents. You knew his parents? One picture was of you, his dad, his mom, and him as a newborn. You knew who he was before you ever met him? How come he never knew this? Why did you leave the circus? How did you end up marrying Bruce Wayne of all people?

"Holy shit, Mom never told us this." Jason said while holding up the torches and an old bottle of alcohol. What they saw in the bottom of the box made both of their spines tingle. A mask...a Court of the Owls mask. Dick knew the story, and he knew his lineage. He knew his potential fate, had he never been adopted. Why did you have a mask? All of these questions in his head, and he knew the one person who could answer them.

He shoved all the items back into the box, and stormed out of the attic with it. Dick wanted answers, and he wanted them now. He carried the box through the manor with Jason on his heels, while holding back his tears. He felt lied to? Betrayed? He didn't know, but he needed to know. He felt like you were an entirely new person now. Dick opened the door to your bedroom. You were watching as Stephanie painted your toenails, and Damian was lecturing you on your health.

"Oh! Did you-..." You cut off when you saw the box he was carrying. It'd been years, and you forgot about that box. Honestly, you thought you threw it out, "Dick..." Your oldest son walked over and slammed the box on the bed, causing your two other sons and Stephanie to glare at him.

"Start talking, Mom...right now."

#batman #batmom #batmom imagines #damian wayne x reader #dick grayson x batmom #dc comics #jason todd x batmom #jason todd x reader #tim drake x reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x you #red hood #robin #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #batman x reader #batfamily #nightwing

[kuromitos]

Bruce: Honey? Are you still mad?

Batmom: *gives him the silent treatment*

Bruce: Come on now, sweetheart. I know you're upset-

Batmom: UPSET!?! Upset doesn't even scratch the surface on how I'm feeling!

Bruce: and I understand that but I think you overreacting about what hap-

Batmom: DICK HAS A BROKEN ARM AND WAS BLEEDING EARLIER! YOU REALLY THINK IM OVERREACTING!!!

Dick,watching batmom tear Bruce a new one,: is Bruce sleeping on the couch again Alfred?

Alfred: I believe so,master Richard

Dick:does that also mean I got to be careful for awhile til she calms down?

Alfred: I believe so, master Richard.

#batman #batmom #batfamily #batfam x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #dick grayson

[bat-stuff]

Bruce to Y/n: Would you like to stay for dinner?

Young Dick: WOULD YOU LIKE TO STAY FOREVER!?!??!?!

#batman #batfam #robin #batboys #damian wayne #jason todd #red hood #dick grayson #tim drake #gotham #batmom #bruce wayne x yn #bruce wayne #batman x reader #dick grayson x yn #dick grayson incorrect quotes #batman incorrect quotes #batfamily #batfamily incorrect quotes #reader incorrect quotes #batman reader incorrect quotes #bruce wayne x batmom

[swe3tte4rs]

Batifamily headcanons feeling jealous about their siblings spending more time with Batmom? Or something like that, however you like to write it 🙊

" Jealousy jealousy " - Batmom!Reader x Batkids

Author's note: MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR (late)!!! Love this 🫶. And I feel like this request is VERY my AU!!! Dah, who wouldn't compete for the love of their sweet and loving mother!? (The hatred between them began when Bruce had to set schedules for each one so they wouldn't fight for Batmom's attention... joke)

Also I am very sad, because when I was responding to this kind of request and I saved it as a draft, it was deleted 😭!!! CRYING 💔💔!!! On top of that, I loved the request, it was beautiful 😭! It was about Batmom as Bruce's couple and Bruce introduces Batmom to the batkids... And if it was you who sent it 🫵, let me tell you that I loved it and it will take me a while to upload it 💓!! Lov you all

And (I almost forgot to mention this), This AU of the batfamily is a mix of comics, series, headcanons (I LOVE headcanons of batfamily 💗), video games, movies and webtoon! + My main language is not English, so if you find any spelling mistakes, tell me in a comment!

Request opens 💗💗!!! BUT, before you request anything check my rules.

Dick Grayson / Nightwing

Honestly, I don't see him being jealous of his brothers at all! But since I haven't read all of his comics and in this AU he is a mix, I don't have an opinion. 👀

Let us begin.

I feel like Dick is a real mama's boy, he love his mom and he will prove it.

Dick is very used to having all of Batmom's attention to himself.

But he hides his jealousy very well, or so he thinks…

Jealousy began when Dick started having siblings. DON'T DENY ME GIRL 🤝🤝!!!

When he gets jealous that you spend more time with, I don't know, he'll go to sleep with you and Bruce, but leaving Bruce aside and enjoying your caresses in his hair while he listens to his siblings complain from outside the bedroom. (Bruce hate this, but I feel that at the same time he love it just a little bit. Very little.)

Possibly he will also rub things you did with him that you didn't do with your other children in his siblings' faces.

I think he is the only one (along with Jason) who has a complete album with photos of him as a child. So he'll show it off to others by saying that you loved him so much that you made an entire photo album of him.

He would do the same with Jason, telling him that his album has more photos and with more photos of you and Dick.

I feel like he would start a whole fight against one of his brothers just to carry all the shopping bags by himself so you don't do it. (This idea is similar to "Jason Todd is a total mama's boy" because I was inspired by it, so credit to its respective author 💓)

"Mommy, did you just call me Damian? Oh my god... my heart..." #atotaldramaqueenbaby💋💋👊👊

Jason Todd / Red Hood

Another drama queen...

A mama's boy from head to toe. (My poor baby just needed a fucking mother figure 😭💔)

He is first in everything. Do you need help opening a jar? He already opened it for you and said I love you and then left and returned to a mission.

But that's not what we're talking about right now... Nonono, we're talking about jealousy, guys...

I bet he's the most sensitive of all.

He makes sure you don't show favoritism to anyone, unless it's him, if so he lets it go.

Did you spend an extra minute with one of your other children because you didn't see the time? He is already burning in a pit of jealousy.

I feel like he would start fighting with his sibling and then he would apply the law of silence to you. But it doesn't last long because he can't resist your cute nicknames and your "you're my favorite" (you say that to each of your babies)

"Why do you call him "son"? He isn't even your son!" And he gives you a whole long speech when you were just trying to be nice to Roy.

He even gets jealous of Bruce.

He doesn't care if it's one of his sisters or a good friend of his, you can't call them cute nicknames! And even less if they are the ones you use with him!

He has good hearing, he makes sure that you call him by his nicknames and not by one of his siblings' nicknames.

"WHAT THE FUCK, MA?! Why are you washing Tim's hair with the shampoo you use with me!?!?" You broke him...

Tim Drake / Red Robin

( I haven't read almost anything by Tim, so forgive me if something doesn't add up, but I promise you that I already have more or less what his personality is like.)

Tim does not admit his jealousy, he is calmer compared to his brothers.

He might start scheduling his patrols to coincide with Batmom’s free time, ensuring that he gets to spend some time with her.

I feel like he would feel more insecurity than jealousy

But I also think he would try to take Batmom's attention away from his sibling by calling Batmom to help him do something he can easily do alone.

He wouldn't care if you treated his friends like your children. I think he would be happy.

Umh Well… I think there's not much to jealousy about this one...

Damian Wayne / Robin

Yes, I headcanon that Damian is one of the most jealous once he realizes that Batmom can give him the love that Talia didn't give him.

He is the same as Jason, he has the same percentage of jealousy.

The only thing is that he would start making arguments about why Batmom would have to spend the whole week with him and not with her brothers.

Oh, and he doesn't care what Bruce does with Batmom. Although he is disgusted by the slightest affection they have.

At galas, I feel like he would be glued to you, hugging your waist and making sure there is no threat.

If you're not patrolling, he'd be with you watching some movie. (I DON'T KNOW WHY I IMAGINED HIM WATCHING MEAN GIRLS)

"I say mom Is going to go with me first because I'm the best-" And then he was interrupted by his siblings.

There is a relationship of hate and equality between him and Jason…

"Don't you see that my mother has an engagement ring and I'm next to her, son of a- *you interrupt him*" I feel like he would say this to anyone who flirts with you.

He is not understanding why his siblings get to spend more time with her.

Mama's boy

I would continue writing, but I have no more inspiration and ideas, sorry...

Cassandra Cain / Orphan

WHY DID SHE PUT THAT NAME BRO???

Cassandra, being the quiet and observant one, might internalize her feelings of jealousy.

Cass is the last one to get jealous, honestly.

She understands that Batmom loves them all equally and there is no favoritism.

Although sometimes she doubts…

She would feel excluded every time she sees you spend more time with one of her siblings.

But putting that behind, she would know that you love them all equally and would let it go by speaking with you how she feels.

0,1% jealous.

Stephanie Brown / Spoiler

Depends…

I think she would feel jealous if Batmom shows favoritism towards others.

In itself, I don't think Steph is VERY jealous. Just... a little bit.

Duke Thomas / The Signal

I need to read more about this man 😭

He's the newest one in the batfam, but he was still able to connect with Batmom very well.

Duke is not one to be jealous, he just doesn't care what batmom does.

Although he is a similar case to Cass.

He would feel a little "insecure" seeing the ties Batmom has with his siblings.

But it always ends well with Batmom watching a movie with him.

[You can put more headcanons in a comment if you like!! And suggestions are always welcome <3]

#🍓୧ ‧₊˚ Request answered! ⋅ ✮⋆˙ #batmom #jason todd is a mama's boy #batfamily #batmom reader #batmom imagine #batfam x reader #red hood x reader #nightwing x reader #tim drake x reader #damian wayne x reader #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #duke thomas #batfam #idk what else to tag

[bia-wayne-west]

Mom has a tattoo [Tim Drake x Batmom]

Synopsis: Tim Drake discovers that his mother, Batmom, got a tattoo without anyone knowing.

Characters: Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne and Reader[You]

A/N: I wrote this in a few minutes, I hope it’s good. I made this imagine inspired by the fantastic imagine of @ellana-ravenwood. I hope that you who are reading have fun and enjoy what I wrote. Apologies for bad grammar

Requests are open

MASTERLIST

It was a surprise for your baby Tim. When he saw the birds drawn on his skin, Tim was by tour side when he noticed.

It all happened when you decided to watch a new TV show on Netflix. First, you made sure all your children, your husband, and Alfred were busy somewhere. Whenever you sit on the big sofa in the living room, one of your babies runs to sit next to you, demanding all your love and attention.

But this time you got confused and forgot to check if Timothy had his eyes on the video game. You were wearing a sleeveless t’shirt and old leggings. Your feet were covered in socks you stole from Bruce's closet.

You were watching the TV show's protagonist lie to her boyfriend. You felt like you were being watched and noticed your third child standing at the entrance to the room with a box of chocolates in his hand. You smiled at Timothy and patted the couch next to him. The boy ran with the candy in his hands, throwing himself next to you with a huge smile on his face.

“I was going down to the Batcave when I noticed you were watching Netflix alone. I came to keep you company, mom.”

“Oh my baby. Thank you for staying here with me.”

When you leaned over to pick up a bag of jelly beans, your hair fell to the side and tour shoulder was exposed. Timothy let out an exclamation of surprise when he saw that you had four birds tattooed on your shoulder. When you returned to your normal position, you noticed your baby looking at you with surprised eyes.

“DO YOU HAVE A TATTOO?” He shouted, pursing his lips.

You laughed and rolled down your shirt sleeve so the boy could see your tattoo in full.

“I did this a month ago. It has a meaning. I have four chicks and I made four birds to have my beautiful chicks with me until the end.”

“ Ah, it’s a beautiful meaning. But I would never have imagined that my mother would get a tattoo. Tattooing is something for young people.”

“Oh my god, Timothy, this really offended me.” You said, placing your hand on your chest while laughing. “ I want to have you with me even when I'm in a coffin and now I have you marked on my skin.”

“We will always be with you, mom. I love you and my brothers too.”

He hugged you tightly, smiling. You smiled back, thinking about the fact that Timothy rarely called Dick, Jason, and Damian brothers. It was unique to see that he really cared about his family.

“I love you, my little bird.”

Your lips kissed Tim's warm forehead. His head touched your shoulder and the two of you continued watching the TV show.

“Mom, when I'm sixteen, can you convince Dick and Jason to get a family tattoo? Like birds or a bat?”

“Of course, my dear. We can also include Bruce and Alfred and of course Damian when he's older."

#imagine #insert reader #fanfiction #fluffy #battinson x reader #bruce wayne x batmom #fic #tim drake x reader #batmom x tim drake #batmom #batmom x bruce #batmom x batkids #batfam #batfamily #dcu #justice league x reader #batman x you #you x bruce wayne #damin x you #tim drake x you #imagine batfam #jason todd x batmom #damian wayne x batmom #dick grayson x batmom #battinson #fanfic #reader

[ciaraswritings]

Unexpected.

Disclaimer: I do not own DC or their characters, or their settings. This is certainly not canon.

Warnings & Topics: Suggestive themes, emotional distress, physical exhaustion, pregnancy. 18+.

Word Count: 3.9K words

Summary: Batmom! reader finds out she is pregnant a short time after marrying Bruce Wayne, not in the most pleasant of ways. Telling him won't be easy, but Alfred gives her some encouragement.

Author's note: After four hours of work, I deem my first fanfiction suitable for posting. Thank you for all the support. I hope you enjoy.

It'd been two months since that beautiful, blissful, romantic day. Actually, two months, two weeks, and one day. But who was counting, right?

The newspapers were. Headlines of gossip news, huge block letters in bold, depicted that I had been spotted at the gym alone again, also describing their support for my "weight loss journey" since I had been "losing my figure". I had been reading this article over and over for about an hour. Damn. I inspected the black and white photo of myself in leggings and a tank top. The worst part about, well, everything, is that they were right. I was losing my figure, noticeably. 

I didn't even notice Alfred behind me until he spoke. "No matter how many times you read them, the words are not going to change, ma'am."

I jumped slightly. I hadn't been sleeping or eating well at all, my back and chest ached too much to relax, and heartburn hit me like a batarang after meals. I think I had gotten thirty hours of sleep in the last week, and maybe one meal a day. "Thank you, Alfred. Do you know when dinner will be ready?" 

"In a half hour, ma'am." The butler moved to the other end of the kitchen table to face me. "Those words in the paper are words that all who love you disagree with."

Alfred's words touched me if only a little, and I set down the paper. "Thank you, I think I'm going to take a walk." 

He looked concerned, but just for a moment. "Alright, ma'am. Try not to be late, the chicken may be devoured." 

Chuckling, I stepped out into the early evening light. I would not be late for dinner, living with five hungry men teaches you a lot. The sunlight embraced me, bathing me in its gentle rays, glimmering over my face. I felt positively glorious. Closing my eyes, I soaked it in. My husband would soon be home to kiss me and keep an arm around my waist. The simple thought of his touch made my mouth stretch into a smile. Five more minutes, and I'll go in. 

Five minutes turned into twenty. Being amongst the blooming flowers and the busy insects kept me occupied. Not only that, but a sudden headache had overtaken me. I sat in the grass, unladylike, watching the bees collect their last supply of nectar from the flowers for the day. Grass stains never bothered me anyway. I knew time was getting away from me, but I couldn't seem to bring myself to focus on anything. I didn't want to go inside because I didn't want bedtime to arrive. It was too painful to even think about. My head and back reminded me of that even now. 

My vision blurred slightly, I could only focus on a single flower on the bushes before me, bees continuing to fly around it. This was nice. I couldn't focus on a single thing, or think about anything, or worry.

I felt myself fall, sort of, to the ground. Fall was the best word I know to describe it. I was already sitting on the ground, but my muscles suddenly felt like pudding. My head bumped to the grass and laid to rest. Terror gripped my heart and throat for a single second before everything just... relaxed. My vision went next, but I was okay with that. This was so relaxing. I wanted to stay.

...

"Madam. Madam (Y/N)!" The voice came from... maybe a mile away. Maybe. Maybe ten miles. Maybe a hundred.

"(Y/N), madam (Y/N)!" Something cold was on my face. Ugh. I don't like that. The wind bit and stung at where the cold wetness was on my cheek. Ouch.

"Wake up, madam!" No. I don't want to. Go away. But the voice sounds scared.  

I slowly, slowly, with great effort, opened my eyes. Instantly they closed again. My friend the butler was hovering over me. What was his name again?

"Mom!" New voice. Go the hell away. I open my eyes again. 

"I'm here, I'm fine." Sitting up took much more strength than opening my eyes, but I managed to do so. Dick and Alfred worriedly stare at me. "I was just taking a nap."

"That wasn't a nap, it looked like you passed out." Dick was the one with the cold wet cloth. He put it to my head again. I gave him a withering glare, and he pulled it away again, looking apologetic. 

"It was a nap, of course I didn't pass out. Now let me return to it," I waved my hand in no particular direction, trying to shoo them away like mice.

"I am afraid I cannot allow you to sleep on the cold ground in nothing but your loungewear, ma'am." Alfred took the cloth from Dick and put it to my forehead. 

Lord, they were being so annoying, I just wanted to go back to sleep. My eyelids drooped and my words slurred. "Bed hurts too much right now... just come back later..." my head finally dropped forward as vision began to diminish again. 

I couldn't really tell what they said next. What I could remember was, "Inside now... call the... when they can see her..." and "...got her... go and tell him... I've got it..." 

The sensation of being lifted did not startle my dozing. Neither did the shouting, nor the feeling of hands on my face. I had earned this sleep, and I was going to... enjoy... it...

...

I was awake, but I didn't want to open my eyes. It wasn't time. Please don't let it be time. I peeked a glance at my watch. Eight in the morning on a Sunday? Yeah, back to sleep we go. 

Before I could return to my dreamless sleep, I became aware of unidentified breathing beside me. Was that Titus? Or maybe Alfred. Maybe I had been kidnapped. Did I care? Hell to the no. All I cared about at this present moment was slumber. If I was kidnapped, I could sleep all I wanted while I waited for them to rescue me.

Then, like a train, uninvited and on its own, the back pain hit my lower body. I couldn't help the moan of discomfort that tore from my throat.

Instantly, a hand went to my forehead. It felt so cold against my warm head. I'd better see who this person with the cold hands is and tell them to go stick their fingers in a campfire before touching me again.

 When I opened my eyes, I realized I wasn't even in the garden anymore. Alfred, I told you I wanted to stay on the ground. But it wasn't Alfred who had put freezing digits on my forehead. It was my husband, my dearest Bruce, my wonderful partner in... crime didn't seem like a good choice of words. His worried blue eyes bored into my sleep-deprived (Y/C) eyes. Ouch, that gaze made my headache come back.

"Hello. Go warm your hands up," I told the love of my life before closing my eyes again. The light from the window seemed to be penetrating my very brain. 

"My hands are warm," replied the bearer of freezing fingers.

"Please, feels like your hands went to the Artic circle for winter vacation." My stubborn retort took a lot out of me, but I could practically hear his small smile. 

"There's my girl," he murmured. I opened my eyes again to smile at my wonderful... freezing... man. 

"Yeahhh, your girl's going back to dreamland. Night night." I grunted at the pain stabbing me in the back, the throbbing in my head, and the emptiness in my stomach.

"Not yet, sweetheart. Stay right here. The doctor's going to be here at ten, you should freshen up a bit." 

I opened one eye to glare unhappily at him. "Don't need a doctor. Need a nap."

His chuckle annoyed me to the very core, almost scaring away the shooting pains in my back. "I'm sorry, but this needs to happen. Do you know how worried we all were when we heard you had fainted in the garden? The boys hardly wanted to go on patrol, they wanted to look after you."

"The boys didn't want to go on patrol? You didn't want to look after me?" I glared playfully at my handsome knight. "And I didn't faint... just took a nap."

"On the cold hard ground?" His questioning gaze made me open both my eyes.

"Yes, it felt nice on my back." 

"Does your back still hurt, sweetheart?"

"Yes, it still hurts." 

"And you didn't feel like sleeping in the bed?"

"The hell is this, an interrogation?" 

"Maybe," he grinned.

"Go away," I retorted, closing my eyes. "I have to go to work, no time for doctors."

"I called and told them you can't come in this week."

"This... this is why I married you."

It didn't take long to fall back into blissful, painless paradise. Bruce left me alone, but I knew he was close by, watching over me. The mansion was so quiet and peaceful, I knew the boys were fast asleep.

Much too soon, I was being kissed awake. 

"Darling, Doctor Thompkin's here. It's time to wake up." Bruce's forehead kisses were, for the very first time in our relationship, annoying. 

"Ugh." I rolled over to escape, my back cracking. 

"Upsy daisy." He stroked my back, gently massaging my painfully aching muscles.

Sitting up took all the strength I had, and yet I had to find more to answer the questionnaire the doctor was springing upon me. Bruce stepped out mid-examination to answer a phone call, leaving the woman to observe my body and take into consideration my answers to her questions. Her questions seemed endless. "Have you been out of the country in the last month?" 

"No."

"Have you been feeling depressed or hopeless?"

"No."

"Are you on any medications?"

"No."

"Do you or any family members have history of scoliosis?" 

"No."

"History of heartburn?"

"No."

"When was your last menstrual cycle?"

"It's marked on the calendar, couple pages back." 

"Do you know what year it is?"

I gave her a funny look. "Of course I do, what's wrong with you?" Now I feel bad for saying that, but I certainly didn't in the moment.

The doctor chuckled, her friendly eyes had laughter lines around them. "Just wanted to make sure you're still with me. Are you on birth control?"

"Yes."

"How long have you been on birth control?" 

"Couple months. I went on it during our honeymoon."

"During?"

"Yes, we realized condoms and plan B weren't as convenient as the pill."

"I'm going to need a blood sample and then we're done here. I'll be in touch with the results. You don't seem to be suffering from scoliosis, but I'll contact you about x-rays to confirm. I haven't made a house call in a long time, or practiced family medicine, but I'll do everything I can to make sure we get to the root of this."

"Okay." 

The blood draw seemed to take longer than I remembered blood draws taking. The prick of the needle didn't disturb the haze of sleepiness that still surrounded me. The woman's departure signaled another wave of sleepiness to wash over me. Bruce and Alfred were showing the doctor out as my head hit the pillow. Pain shot up my back, but sleep had already captured me. 

Tomorrow turned into today, and then today became yesterday. It felt like I slept the whole Monday, skipping work and family dinner. Tuesday morning came with sunshine and kisses from my darling husband as I slowly opened my eyes. 

"Hi," I smiled at him. One of Bruce's arms was holding me almost loosely as he lay next to me in the white sheets. He looked worn and tired from a long night of patrol. I sniffed him. Good, he had showered. 

"Hello." His tired kiss on my lips was slowly waking me. "I love you."

"I love you too," I told him. My smile was getting bigger and my world was waking up. I traced the shape of his exhausted eyes. "Close your eyes. Sleep." 

"Mmph." His eyes closed and his body relaxed under my touch. Normally, Bruce was the one to hold me tight and kiss me to sleep, to caress my body and keep me safe. Looking over his body, I realized that he had been through a difficult night of patrol. A stitched gash across his back, an unhappy bruise on his jaw, scratches on his forearms. Worrying about my "condition" probably hadn't helped him stay alert out there in the dangerous night of Gotham. Guilt washed over me. My arms protectively wrapped around my dearest husband, my lips pressing to his forehead. Today, I was going to keep him safe, I was going to comfort him through his slumber.

...

Bruce's snoring wasn't exactly a lullaby, so I was up and about after a few hours. The boys were crashed in their rooms and Alfred was busy baking something that smelled like chocolatey deliciousness. I was looking over the morning paper, again, skimming for any mention of my family or I. Unhealthy habit, you could say. I was curled up in an armchair next to the bed, keeping the rustling of the newspaper pages to a minimum.

Vibrations of Bruce's cell phone made me look up. As silently as I could, I leaped up and grabbed the phone from the bedside table on Bruce's side. My husband's sleep was important to me, and if I had it my way, nothing at all would disturb it, not even nightmares. 

I carried the cell phone out of the bedroom and glanced at the caller ID. Doctor Thompkins. Results. Yes. This wasn't the first time I had answered my husband's phone, so I wasn't going to feel guilt over finding out my own test results. "Hello?"

"(Y/N), hello. I'm calling with your results."

"Tim's been telling everyone in the family it's yellow fever, please prove him wrong."

"Hah, no, it is not yellow fever... I'd say it's something a little more... serious."

I stiffened. My aching back didn't like that. "What's up?"

"We spoke about your history with birth control, but we need to talk about it again. It would seem that there was some window of time where you and Bruce were not using protection."

My backache must've hit my brain, because looking back, I can't believe I didn't catch on. "Bruce gave me a disease?"

"Not a disease. You're pregnant, (Y/N). I can't make an estimate on how many weeks you are, but I'm going to give you the contact information for an OBGYN. Make an appointment as soon as you can. Congratulations, Mrs. Wayne."

...

When Bruce woke up, I had to apologize to him for his cracked cell phone screen. I told him the truth, that I'd dropped it, but I didn't explain that it was from shock. He told me it was alright, that he'd pick up a new one, but he wasn't quite sure why I looked so very upset over dropping his phone. That would explain itself in time.

I didn't eat a thing at dinner that night, despite my full plate and coaxing from my family. Even the finest cut of steak is unappealing when something like that is on one's mind.

Who wouldn't overthink a thing like this? Pregnant, after a literal two months of marriage? Pregnant, while caring for four boys that you saw as your sons? Pregnant, after your husband had told you he didn't want anymore children? Pregnant, after you had both tried to be careful? Pregnant, to one of the greatest vigilantes and most successful businessmen in the world? Pregnant. I am pregnant. I might have my husband's baby.

"Mom!"

My head jerked up and I was greeted by five concerned faces. 

"Ma, you look like you're in another world," Jason forked a piece of potato. 

"Maybe I am in another world, Jay-Jay." I smiled slightly before standing. Ten eyes observed my every move. 

"Ummi, where are you going?" Damian, the one who I expected would be the least concerned, watched me with huge, worried eyes. 

"I think I need to sleep more. I will see you all tomorrow morning." I kissed every head at the table, my lips lingering on my husband's forehead. He rested his hand on the back of my neck, pulling me down for a gentle kiss. I think he noticed my hesitance, but I didn't stop to think about it or explain. My back only permitted me to walk up the stairs, but if I could've run, I would've.

Once Bruce and the boys had left for their night of patrol, I breathed again. Laying on the bed, clutching my pillow to my chest, trying to rehearse how I would address the situation to Bruce, it took a lot out of me. "Bruce, I need to tell you something," I mumbled. "No... Bruce, we need to talk." 

"Madam, I am not sure if you have noticed, but Master Bruce is not here." Alfred's voice startled me for the second time this week.

"I wish he was. I'm sorry, I'm... practicing." I tried to give my friend a reassuring smile but it came out as a grimace. 

"Good luck, madam," Alfred set down a cup of tea on my bedside table and gave me a genuine Alfred smile. Before he was out of the room, he turned back and looked me dead in the eye. "Master Bruce loves you very much, Madam (Y/N). He would not have married you if he was not ready to take on the unexpected. He will not turn you away when you tell him, so try not to overthink." 

I looked straight back into this wonderful gentleman's eyes. "Thank you."

...

I tried to sleep through the night, I really did. When dawn and my boys arrived, I was still wide awake, not having slept a wink. I trotted down the stairs to the batcave, taking extra care not to trip. Once on the floor, we went through our post-patrol routine of inspecting each one of my boys. First Damian, who shrugged me off several times before allowing me to look over him, then Tim, who accepted my worrying for what it was, then Jason, who pretended to be annoyed for show, then Dick, who looked over me as carefully as I looked over him, then finally Bruce, who would not stop kissing me, barely giving me a chance to check him for injuries. 

No one was truly hurt, but all but one were tired as they pulled off their suits. The boys trudged upstairs to their rooms, but my husband carried me valiantly up the stairs to our place in the master bedroom, like a knight carrying his princess.

Once the bedroom door was shut and he had set me down, I was instantly on my back laying on the bed, Bruce's lips showing affection to my neck and collarbone. A soft, throaty moan left my mouth as my husband kissed me, his hands working their way over my body. I was clothed in my favorite outfit of a tank top and leggings, and I knew they were at risk of being torn from my torso and limbs if I allowed this to continue. Besides... I had to tell Bruce. 

"Darling..." the word I said was half-moaned. "Darling, please, you need to shower."

"I thought you liked my scent?" Bruce chuckled, looking up at me, his hands working their way up my shirt. 

"Mmm, I do, but you are going to dirty our sheets that Alfred worked so hard to wash." 

"You have a valid point, but I don't like it." Bruce grinned and pulled off the little clothing he wore. I chuckled and rolled my eyes, watching him make his way to the shower. If I hadn't had such a burden on my mind, I would've joined him. I could hear him muttering insults at the slippery bar of soap that his large fingers always seemed to have trouble grasping, and it made me smile. My hand absentmindedly rested on my stomach and I wondered if his child would have the same troubles as their father.

Bruce's shower was shorter than usual. Much shorter than if I had been in there with him. Chuckling, I made room for my knight in the bed. He hadn't bothered to put on clothes, or dry his hair. Bruce climbed on top of me, drops of water falling from his hair to my chest. His lips reattached to mine, devouring the kiss like a wild man. I knew what he had on his mind from the way he caressed my body, and I had to put a stop to it. 

"Bruce... Bruce, wait." 

Concerned eyes met mine. "(Y/N)?"

Alfred's words replayed in my mind. He would not have married you if he was not ready to take on the unexpected. I stared into the beautiful blue eyes I had grown to take comfort in. "Bruce, Doctor Thompkins diagnosed me."

Instantly, his desire was forgotten. Bruce sat back on the bed and pulled me onto his lap. "Tell me, darling, what is it?"

His arms made me feel so safe. He will not turn you away when you tell him, so try not to overthink. "I... you need to expect the unexpected."

"So I'm guessing it's not yellow fever, since that's what Tim expects," Bruce smiled. The gentle attempt at humor didn't lift the worry in his eyes. 

"Heh, no... not exactly. It's... it's a baby." The last three words were much quieter than the others. 

Bruce looked at me quizzically. "I don't think I heard you correctly." 

"A baby," I honestly voiced my diagnosis, somewhat fearfully looking into his eyes. "I'm pregnant."

Bruce's glare pierced mine. He gently slid me off his lap and set me on the bed before standing and walking to the window to silently stare out of it. His breathing had changed, his body was stiff, everything about him seemed cold and hardened. 

My worst fears bit and tore at my heart, anxiety gripping my throat like a murderer. Oh Lord, he doesn't want me anymore. I didn't know whether to go to him, or leave the mansion, or stay in the bed, or cry, or speak. So I just waited, for a full two minutes, staring at my husband's scarred back. After waiting that long, tears began to prick at my eyes. I finally laid down and curled into the cold sheets. "I'm sorry."

I heard him turn. "What are you sorry for?"

"Not paying attention to my birth control. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," my tears left wet spots on the pillowcase. I closed my eyes tightly. 

Then I felt his weight on his side of the bed, he was laying beside me. Bruce collected me into his arms, tilting my chin up, asking me silently to look at him. I opened my wet eyes. 

"I'm not angry with you. I'm thinking about it. Just let me think." Bruce's rough, calloused fingers brushed against my peach soft cheek.

"Okay." I closed my eyes to fight back angry, hot tears. He pulled me to his chest, holding me to himself. I could practically hear the wheels turning in his head. 

He must've held me like that for an hour before he finally, finally spoke. "Well, this isn't what I thought two months into our marriage would look like." 

My tears had left stains on his chest. Only a surge of bravery made me look up at him. "Yeah."

He looked down at me, smiled, kissed my lips, and I felt my husband's love course through my body. He may have turned me away physically, but he had never turned me away emotionally. I sat up on his lap, straddling him, my forehead resting on his, my hands on his cheeks. "I love you."

"And I love you," Bruce's fingers brushed against my waist. He seemed hesitant, and his eyes met mine. "May I?"

I was confused for a moment, but then I realized and nodded, beaming. "Yes."

His large hand rested on my stomach. The wheels in his head were still turning, but they had calmed, and they were only turning in the name of love. 

"Expect the unexpected." 

#batmom #bruce wayne imagine #batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #batman x reader #batman imagine #batfam #batfamily #bruce wayne x fem!reader #batman #dc comics #dc batman #imagine #fluff #one shot #female reader #pregnancy imagine #pregnant reader #established relationship #married reader #bruce wayne #dcu #fanfiction #fanfic #one shots #xreader

[ynscrazylife]

THE BAT IN THE SHADOWS 🦇🕸️

— CHAPTER TWO

Summary: Bruce Wayne is the happiest he’s ever been in a while. He has a beautiful wife, amazing children, and is stopping crime left and right as Batman. All that shatters when you, his wife, mysteriously disappears.

Pairings: Bruce Wayne x Wife!Reader, Batfamily x Batman!Reader, Avengers x Reader (Platonic)

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Having to wait until morning to pull the security cam footage from nearby stores was hell. In the meantime, Bruce filled out a missing persons report (and nearly broke down whilst doing it). The worst part of it all was having to come home, alone, and face his family.

His kids and Alfred were exactly where he left them, all in the living room.

“Where’s Mom?” Dick was the first to ask, arms crossed. Neither he nor his brothers could hide the worry flickering across his face. Not even Alfred, who was usually so composed.

“I believe,” Bruce began, wanting to be strong for them. The image of your smiling face flashed in his mind and he slammed his hand against the nearby wall to steady himself. Get it together, he told himself. The weight of your shattered phone in his pocket felt like tons of bricks. “She’s been taken.”

He hated that that was all he could say on it. That was all he knew. He hated that he had to say it at all.

Five rounds of “What?!” echoed around the room. Bruce forced himself to look at Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian. At their pain. Their shock.

“I only found her phone, broken. But we will bring her home,” Bruce said, knowing that there was no keeping his children out of this investigation. “I will take the lead. I’m going to go downstairs and start working. Anyone is free to join me, but I’d also suggest trying to sleep. If you can.”

He started towards the stairs. Then, half-way there, he stopped and turned around, opening up his arms. It took a second, but the boys came to him, and Bruce tucked them in his arms with a strong, tight hug. Alfred watched for a moment, then walked around and put his hand on Bruce’s shoulder.

“We will find her,” Bruce vowed.

And, he thought, if you were harmed in anyway, if a single hair was out of place, he’d destroy whoever had enough nerve to do this.

//

Standing by Commissioner Gordon’s side, Bruce peered over the employee sitting at his desk, who was starting up the footage on his computer. They found the closest store to the spot where your phone was found and as soon as the sign switched from closed to open, they walked in.

“Here you go,” the employee murmured, pressing play.

The footage was grainy and dark but with narrowed eyes, Bruce was determined to take in all that he could. As soon as you walked into frame, Bruce couldn’t help but tense up, nervous about what they were going to see.

Your pace started slowing as you took out your phone. Then, a jolt of electricity — where it was coming from was off-screen — hit your in the back. Bruce fixed his jaw, trying not to lash out or yell or even cry as he saw you fall. The thought of you, limp on the hard, dirty sidewalk . . .

Then, two figures came into frame, lean builds and wearing all black. Bruce watched how one stomped on your phone screen and he took a breath. They were saying something to each other, but the footage didn’t have audio. It was impossible to make out. He curled his fingers into a fist when they each took one of your arms, starting to drag you away. They didn’t seem to care at all that your head was bouncing off the ground and Bruce wanted to smash the screen.

He’d make them fucking pay, that was for sure.

Gordon did the talking, thanking the employee and whatnot. Bruce was in a daze, the footage playing over and over again in his head. He hadn’t even realized that Gordon wrapped up the conversation until he was pulled outside. They went a few stores down, trying to find more security camera footage of where they took you.

When they did, Gordon and Bruce watched as the kidnappers haphazardly tossed you into the car. As if you were nothing. As if you weren’t the most precious thing in Bruce’s life. He made fists again. They drove away and the one good thing was that the footage captured the license plate.

Gordon drove them to the police station and Bruce practically forced him to speed. A goddamn license plate, that was their only clue. Bruce’s only hope. He was pacing back and forth while the police actually ran the plate, never staying still for even a millisecond.

Finally, Gordon emerged. “They must’ve stolen the car. We’ll start sending patrol units out, contact other local departments . . . We will find this car. We’ll find them,” he said confidently.

//

While patrol units drove all around the city and beyond, Bruce did the same in his Batmobile. He spent every minute of every hour on the road, only returning for food and a couple hours of sleep after numerous calls from Alfred. It was the second time when he came home that he saw how much this was affecting his children. A wave of guilt hit, he knew that he hadn’t been paying as much attention to them as he should’ve.

You would’ve told Bruce to leave it to your fellow detectives, who were hellbent on getting you home. You would’ve told Bruce that he didn’t have to be Batman. He had to be home. God, you were so good, it sometimes hurt.

Bruce sat with his four boys on the couch, his arms wrapped around them. He updated them on the case, told them everything he knew. Of course, they asked to join him on patrol, but Bruce told them there was no need. He was going to take a few days off to spend with them.

It was after those few days that Bruce received a call from Gordon. They were in the middle of a somber dinner when his phone rang and the vigilante sprang up from his seat, nearly knocking his chair over. Everyone paused their eating.

“Gordon?” Bruce asked. The last few times, Gordon had nothing big to tell him, but Bruce answered his phone the same way every time.

“We got the car. It’s abandoned, but they drove out of the city. Parked near the woods.”

Dick, Tim, Jason, and Damian all wanted to go search with their father, but Alfred assured Bruce that he’d have them finish their dinners. Bruce gave each one of them a kiss on the head and promised to be home at a reasonable hour (which Alfred would hold him to, bless the man) before he rushed off.

It took a little while to get to the coordinates that Gordon sent, but when he did, he found detectives and cops and even civilian-organized search parties. It warmed Bruce’s heart, how much the city adored you. They knew you as Mrs Wayne, the kind and brave detective.

He joined the search as Batman, looking high and low. He got deep into the woods when finally, he found something. A group of costumed people all looking around, some confused, some awed. Bruce could tell they didn’t belong.

“Identify yourself,” he growled, coming out of the shadows and approaching them.

They all turned to him suddenly. No one moved or said anything for a second, until a redheaded woman came forward. She looked to be around your age, maybe a couple years older.

“This is probably going to come as a shock, but please, hear me out,” the woman began.

“I don’t ‘hear’ people out. Identify yourself, now,” Bruce demanded, in no mood for games.

The woman sighed softly. “Fine. You can call me te Black Widow. Back home, I — we — are known as the Avengers. We’re looking for someone named Y/N,” she told him.

#bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce wayne angst #bruce x you #bruce x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x batmom #batfamily x reader #dc batman #batman fic #batman fluff #batmom #batmobile #avengers x reader #mcu avengers #dc marvel crossover

[the-daydreaming-show]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧(?) 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬, 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐞 (but patience).

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: A small collection of stories like Batmom! Scarlet Witch as a mother for her children, unintentionally but not by accident, and how it started all with each one.

Being a member of the Wayne family comes with its quirks.

Being Bruce Wayne's wife has twice the quirks when you consider your husband's nocturnal activities, and it's this second category of quirks that usually concerns you the most.

Or at least that's what you thought would happen when you married him. But, even with being a retired vigilante yourself and already knowing everything that Bruce was Batman implied, it turned out that the other side of the coin was the one that began to bother you the most.

¿Your husband goes out every night dressed as a giant bat and comes back just before the sun rises?

No problem, you handled that like a champ.

¿The city press, who are desperate to know about the woman who finally put Gotham's prodigal son off the market and how the marriage goes every moment of every day?.

Yeah, you hadn't been ready for that.

Over time you got used to the drama and the questions, it helped that you could read their minds before they asked the question for your response planning. But there was one question that haunted you from the first official gala you and Bruce attended after the wedding (which was less than two weeks after the wedding, by the way): ¿When are you going to be pregnant? ¿When do you plan to have a child? ¿Can we soon expect ball gowns to become looser for a bulging belly with a Wayne heir?

And so, on and on, for infinity.

The answer had been maybe or someday, considering that they were both of you still young and in no rush.

In truth, tho, you two had never really considered the possibility of having children. Bruce didn't feel fit to be a father for many reasons. And the possibility of you passing your powers to a biological child was too high to risk. So it was never a card on the table to have children together when you got married, and you both were fine with that. There were talks about adopting as a possibility, but far in the future, like it was almost like a fantasy you two knew that would probably never happen anyway.

But then, things happened…

ACT ONE: a boys tale.

chapter one is Richard “Dick” Grayson

chapter two is Jason “Jay” Todd

chapter three....... (coming soon)

chapter four....... (coming soon)

chapter five....... (coming soon)

ACT TWO: is a girl's world.

chapter six....... (coming soon)

chapter seven....... (coming soon)

chapter eighth....... (coming soon)

TAGLIST: If someone wants to be added or removed from this list, you can request it. The TAG LIST is OPEN.

@some-lovely-day @simonsbluee @yuki-chan23 @miyakana @myst3batz @otchae @d3m0n8ch1ld @marsenbie @mynameisnotlaura @andieperrie18 @totallynotme420 @igotmessymind @amarawayne @calsjack @kodzukenmaaa @mellowdiy @noah-uhhh-what @blarba-girl @dead-sane-stuff @huhuhhuhh @kimmis-stuff @undecided-shipper @thedazzlingburglar @chxrry-blxssxm-tea @stilesxreid @blarba-girl @mellowdiy @noah-uhhh-what @dead-sane-stuff @huhuhhuhh @undecided-shipper @g0shikix3 @athenniene @cluelessteam @urminebutidontwantyou @pato-spoiler-27 @beanpd

#batfamily x reader #batmom #all for us #batmom!reader #jason todd x batmom #tim drake x batmom #dick grayson x batmom #damian wayne x batmom

[apocalypse-shuffle]

DICK GRAYSON & JASON TODD | BATFAMILY (assorted canon)

────────────────────

────────────────────

“Long Overdue: Epilogue” (Dick Grayson & Batmom!Reader), (Jason Todd & Batmom!Reader) and (background Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)

| Reader was with Bruce in the past but grew distant after Jason’s death. No one tells her when he comes back from the dead until Bruce is forced to bring her in on a raid when they’re overwhelmed. -Jason and Batmom!Reader reunion.

| SFW, canon typical action/violence, cursing?, mentions of grief, past death of a child

| This is like half fanon half UTRH/Batman:Hush. I’m really just fucking around with canon rn. Also the pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (pic source: Gotham Knights video game)

| 2k+ words

| parts: one, spurt, two, three, four, five, six/six point five, seven. (series masterlist)

You walk out of the weapons cache lighter than how you walked into it and head directly for your eldest.

“Dick what the hell?”

Said man, halfway through what looks like calf stretches, sits up and throws a slight frown your way.

“What? What’d I do?”

And bless him but he’s actually thinking it over. Eyes sliding to the side and lips pursing and everything. Racking his brain over what mess he forgot to get himself out of this time.

Somewhere behind you Jason starts laughing at Dick so when he passes by you flick him on the arm. The drama queen then makes a whole show of blowing you off with a half assed ‘ow’. Your eyes meet the dark depths of the cave ceiling for a second as you beg for strength before they lock on Dick once more.

From there all you have to do is purse your lips and raise a brow for him to catch on. His arms fling into the air.

“He said he’d ‘take care of it’, and I haven’t seen you since then. Fuck me for thinking he actually did it! And he only felt the need to tell me three nights ago so it’s not like you’re the only one.”

Your shoulders start to shake and you move closer until you can nudge him. His arms drop and he huffs.

“Easy, little D, I’m just teasing. Don’t beat yourself up over your father’s horrible communication skills, okay?”

“Don’t worry I won’t,” he says.

You do catch the nasty look he throws the cave entrance with despite what he’s said, and the easy tone he’s said it with, however.

“Actually,” Jason pipes up, helmet back on and voice once again skewed. “I’m still hung up on your shit communication skills. Nightfall? Since when has that been a thing?”

He jabs a finger in your direction while pacing around to Dick’s other side. Dick doesn’t do anything but follow the younger’s antics with his eyes.

You laugh, shrugging, and lean back on the cave wall beside the desk. You're still within spitting distance of the boys but you can’t bring yourself to travel any further.

“I’ve been in the game longer than Bruce has, but mostly under an independent contractor. It wasn’t till I came to Gotham that I changed my suit and started calling myself Nightfall; that gimmicky shit is contagious after all.”

“Immensely goddamn contagious,” Jason mutters darkly. He throws a glare Dick’s way that translates pretty perfectly even with the helmet to get him to knock off the staring, but you get the feeling the older only looks away because grilling you is a more pressing matter.

In the next moment Dick snaps his fingers, “You know what I still don’t get? How come we never found out? I mean you didn’t tell me until I was in Blud already.”

That question you can’t shrug away as easily. A grimace crosses your face and Jason makes an intrigued ‘ohh’ sound that honestly makes you want to flip him off. How are you being cajoled by your children right now?

“Well…” you kiss your teeth. “I was in love.”

The “Gross,” Jason lets out is instantaneous and he holds a hand up - it's a flawless reminder that 19 is not yet fully grown. “Forget I asked.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s not that damn bad. It’s just that when we first got Dick Bruce thought it’d be best if he had a greater sense of normalcy out of the cape, and I agreed; one vigilante parent was enough. Then we just kept that same dynamic when we got you,” you gesture to Jason and he tilts his head.

“I’m still not seeing how that relates to the completely unnecessary ‘in love’ comment you made earlier.”

“Jason,” you scold. “I’m getting there, goddamn.”

Dick poorly muffles a laugh and you give him a hard look before rolling your shoulders.

“Back in the day, before Bruce stopped acting like we were a unit and more like I was a casualty of war in the waiting-” you take a deep breath and cross your arms, closing your eyes against the white lights of the cave.

You can hear the way the boys falter, likely glancing to one another to figure out what to do before they each take a step forward.

“Mom-” Dick calls.

“You don’t have to-” Jason’s saying at the same time, their voices overlapping, and you shake your head.

“It’s fine,” you say. You blink your eyes open; both brothers have stilled but they’re balancing forward like they think you’re gonna drop. You huff. “Point is, there was a time where he could’ve convinced me of anything. He used to look at me like I hung the fucking moon just to provide people free light to see, you know? So at a certain time I chose not to tell you two because I didn’t want to challenge the perception of me that you had gotten from Bruce. That’s why you didn’t know, I didn’t want you to think I was as bad as the people you were fighting every night; the people who took away your parents from you. Dick running off was what made me finally spill, but you died years before I would’ve been ready to tell you, Jay.”

Jason clears his throat, “Uh. That why you and hi- Bruce separated?”

“Not really,” you sigh, shaking your head. “It wasn’t Bruce before…it was Bruce after. After you died we didn’t just bounce back…so eventually things between us soured. I loved him but expecting someone to put up with you constantly pushing them away isn’t fair,” you shrug. “How Bruce saw me stopped mattering as much after that.”

Dick nods, lining up what you’ve said to his own memory of the aftermath and coming up with a corresponding connection.

“Yeah, you and Bruce argued for hours after you met Tim that first time…and then some more when Stephanie became Robin. Hell, even by the time I’d gotten back earthside you and Bruce were down right frosty when you were next to each other even though you were trying to hide it from us.”

“Yeah,” you grunt. “That’s all we tend to do now. Stay mad.”

Staring off into the distance Dick nods and Jason catches your eye, or maybe the other way round.

Whatever expression he is looking at you with is impossible to place but he is definitely watching you. Uncannily all the boys had Bruce’s tendency to look at things, and by extension people, like they were puzzles to solve. Which came with the added bonus of the recipient of said stare being able to feel it. Feel the weight of being dissected and picked apart as if it was a physical thing.

Most buck under that level of analysis. Wholly used to the originator of that stare though you continue on as usual. If he wasn’t going to ask then you had nothing to say.

After it becomes clear you won’t be coughing anything more up Jason backs off, pushing the conversation towards lighter material until Dick and him are carrying the back and forth together. They play off of each other in stunted stops and starts, and barely concealed hostility on Jason’s part, but their awkward attempts at light hearted banter still get your mind out of the gutter you’d landed in.

Ten minutes of forced jokes and almost insults later and Jason starts giving less than subtle hints at wanting to head out. After that it doesn’t take long before he comes over, and he doesn’t reach out to you but he does softly knock your shoulders together.

“See you later, Ma,” he says for your ears alone.

“Goodbye Jason,” you respond even though you’d rather never have him leave your side again.

You watch him go and are drastically reminded that your eyes have been incessantly brimming with tears this whole time when a few slip down your face with little prompting.

A few more beads follow the path of the others after you catch sight of the truly cracked look on Alfred’s face when Jason comes up to him before there’s an arm slinging across your shoulders and Dick’s urging you into a hug.

You take it. You raised some good kids, you’ll give yourself that much. Even if there were some major fuck ups along the way.

“It’s kinda surreal, isn’t it?”

“Oh absolutely,” you croak. “I like it though.”

Dick shrugs, “Yeah. It wouldn’t really be us if things got too predictable anyway.”

He waits a beat and then, “So who’s updating Babs?”

“Let me guess,” you deadpan, “he told you two at the same time?”

“Pretty much. Which that, combined with everything that happened with Steph and The Birds, and having to break all this to Cass means her fuse is waaay shorter than usual.”

“Not it,” you proclaim.

Dick’s mouth drops open, his gaze snapping to you.

“What? That’s not fair.”

“Says who? I’m not cleaning up after Bruce anymore than I already am, and she’s your friend, Dick.”

“It’s still unfair,” he grumbles. He brushes it off quickly though. “So….I heard you and Cass ran into each other a few days ago.”

“Yeah. Last Sunday.” You side eye him. “Right after you almost started a grease fire in your new apartment.”

Dick holds his hand to his chest, tone barely upset enough to sound like true hurt. “Don’t look at me like that, I can cook.”

You nod slowly, “I know you can cook,” then shake your head in the same manner. “But you cannot fry.”

“It’s not my fault the oil fights back. I get enough shit in my nightly life. I don't need it when I’m at home on top of that.”

He smiles but the way it doesn’t reach his eyes churns your stomach.

“Maybe pan frying just isn’t for you,” you murmur but your hand goes up to touch his arm. “How’re you feeling?”

Dick shrugs. Gaze locking somewhere over your shoulder.

“As good as I can be,” you give him a sideways look and he forces a chuckle, rocking back from your touch. “Seriously I’m fine. Please don’t stress out about me. Are you okay?”

“Uh huh,” you grunt before pushing him towards the benches on the other side of the cave. “Sure. I’m fine. Now come on, let’s go sit.”

“Mom-”

“Nope. Move before you pass out or some shit.”

“Ah,” he gasps. “You said a bad word.”

“Dick,” you curb the urge to roll your eyes.

- - -

Whatever conversation Jason’s just had with Alfred doesn’t seem to have left him any more tense than he already was, which is good. You and Dick stop mid sentence to watch him walk off from your new position on the floor.

You with a foam roller and your first child dramatically cringing every time you go over the area just above the hole in his calf. Part of it you’re sure is him trying to cheer you up but the other you're certain are actual expressions of pain because he went out on a literal bullet wound even though you’d told him to stay his ass home.

“I don’t know why he’s under the impression that I can’t shoot without killing someone but he’s wrong,” Jason’s saying. He pats the occupied holster at his thigh while making his way towards the vehicle pathway. “Anyway, I’m gonna get outta here. The later I see you Bats the better.”

“Jason!”

“Except for you, Ma! I’ll call you tomorrow!” He yells over his shoulder, running his fingers over the handle of the bike closest to him.

“You’d better,” you yell back. You’d be happy to reinstate another child that would lament the drama in their lives to you on your call list.

“Uh oh,” Dick says under his breath.

You turn to look over at him for barely a second, brows raised and mouth partially open, when the sound of a motorcycle revving answers your unasked question for you.

Looking back at the bikes shows Jason’s already peeling out of the cave with a yell of: “I’ll leave this somewhere you can find!”

You blink after him, not sure if you want to laugh or not.

“That’s not good,” Dick murmurs. When you turn to him he’s grimacing and seeing your expression he nods to the now empty spot. “That was Tim’s bike.”

“Oh.” For the first time since finding out the implications of Jason being Red Hood really hit you. Your lips purse. If he’d really been at that confrontation Tim came out of with a (mild according to him) slit throat during the Hush debacle, and been the one to infiltrate Titans Tower and lay Tim out a few weeks back you had a situation. “Oh lorde.”

“Yeah,” Dick gets up in one swift motion, hands on the roller. “We can’t have regular family problems. Nope.”

Unfortunately he’s right. A sigh falls past your lips. Either way, that was one down. You stand, addressing Dick while he’s putting the foam back.

“Excitement aside, before you head back to New York you want to come help me make dinner?” You incline your head. “Tim can come too.”

He smiles at you. You know he understands you not wanting to get too close to the teen but appreciates you including him in stuff anyway.

“Yeah, Mom, I’d love to. Just let me get my stuff and I’ll call him.”

“Okay.”

Dick leaves and you settle in to wait just as the Batmobile comes rumbling into the Cave. You cut your eyes at the vehicle but otherwise don’t acknowledge as Bruce gets out of it, heading immediately to change.

Alfred comes up to your side a breath later. The two of you nod in greeting.

“Sorry for taking the kids from you.”

“That’s quite alright, Mistress Y/n,” His voice drops to a whisper. “Between the two of us I believe Master Timothy may resort to camping in the woods behind the estate if he’s stuck here a moment longer. I’ll gladly allow you to take them both. You go deal with yours and I’ll deal with mine.”

“Have fun,” you croon lightly. The butler gives you a wry look in response. You shrug. “Oh, and if you wouldn’t mind could you tell Bruce to meet me at the Wayne Plot?”

A nod from the old butler.

“Is there a specific time you would like for me to convey as well?”

“He’ll know,” you say simply.

Alfred gives a curt nod.

“Certainly then. Farewell, my dear.” Alfred arches a brow at Dick as he comes back with a duffle swung over his shoulder. “And do try to express upon Master Richard the necessity of wearing his winter gear this year.”

“Alfred,” the man huffs.

You laugh and flick said man in the side. “I don’t think I’ll have to. He should have learned his damned lesson with that two week cold.”

“And I really did,” he bats your hand away and then speeds off. “I'll be upstairs.”

“Bye!” You laugh after him.

This was something you could work with. Putting time into your relationships with your boys and Tim. Solid plan. You say your farewells to Alfred and then follow after your eldest. Your gripes with Bruce could wait, you had dinner to make and two boys to feed.

Fin.

NOTES: I don’t know how severe the implications of a two week cold are but whatever. Hope you enjoyed!!

Thank you all for embarking on this journey with me, this is the first long form series I’ve actually finished so I’m very excited to cap it off!!

Anyway, long overdue is done but I will also write extras to this series at some other time in the future (if you’d like to be tagged in those then tell me).✌🏾

And yes I did my best not to have to write Tim or Cass yet, I can barely write Dick as is. Also let’s just assume Reader had the decency to actually inform Dick about Jason’s death and as such he wasn’t forced to dig for that information himself behind Bruce’s back.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.

Tagged: @aarinisreading, @niphredil-14, @mxtokko, @calsjack, @brunnetteiwik, @trashpenguin

#dick grayson #jason todd #black!batmom #black!reader #black y/n #•long overdue (the series) #jason todd x batmom #dick grayson x batmom #jason todd imagine #red hood #nightwing #red hood imagine #dick grayson imagine #nightwing imagine #batfamily x batmom #batfamily x black!reader #batmom & jason todd #batmom & dick grayson #bruce wayne x batmom #bruce wayne x black!reader #divorced!batmom #batfamily #batfamily x reader #jason todd x black!reader #dick grayson x black!reader #jason todd x reader #dick grayson and jason todd #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson fanfiction #jason todd fanfiction

[ragingbookdragon]

No one, not even Bruce could claim that he’d ever seen his wife sloshed more than once, and sloshed she was, as she was huddled up on the couch in the Watchtower between Hal and Barry, a beer bottle in her hand as she waved the other around to help her get her words out.

“You know,” she started, taking a swig of her beer. “When you think about it, it’d be really easy to kill Batman compared to all of you guys who are like…superhuman.”

Silence enveloped the group as they all turned to the Wayne Matriarch with wide eyes; Hal’s lips wobbled with the need to laugh…hysterically, and he asked, “How so, Missus Wayne?”

She shifted against him, propping her back against the side of his chest, cocking her legs in Barry’s lap, and pointed at her husband. “He’s human. Literally, he’s human. All you gotta do shoot him in the face and bam! He’s dead.” She made a dramatic flare of her arm and added, “Or! You could, I don’t know, punch your hand through his chest. Snap his neck. Throw him off a ledge of a very tall building. Cut his limbs off. Disembowel him. Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.”

For a moment, no one said anything, then Clark glanced at Bruce and indiscreetly leaned over and inquired, “Hey, how much is your life insurance policy as Bruce Wayne, because I think she’s gonna come collecting one day.”

Bruce sipped his own beer and muttered, “If she hasn’t killed me by now, she’s never going to.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep.”

“But I mean, when you think about it, all of you guys, save Diana, are easily killable too. Barry, if I freeze you, boom, you’re dead. Clark, your weakness is a rock. Hal, you’re literally rendered useless by a fucking color, and it isn’t even fucking primary color. J’onn, fire. Ollie, you’re human too. Cyborg…I’d load Windows 98 into you. Arthur you’d be stuck in a fish net.” She chugged the rest of her beer and laid across her two friend’s laps. “Please confer amongst yourselves on the fragility of your lives.”

Diana was in tears as she laughed while everyone else was frowning and Hal muttered, “I’m not rendered useless by a color.”

“Yes, you are,” everyone immediately answered.

#batmom imagines #batmom imagine #batmom #batfamily x reader imagines #batfamily x reader imagine #batfamily x reader #batfamily x batmom #batfamily imagines #batfamily imagine #batfamily #bruce wayne x reader imagine #bruce wayne x reader imagines #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagines #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne #batman x reader imagine #batman x reader imagines #batman x reader #batman imagines #batman imagine #batman #justice league imagine #justice league imagines #dc imagines #dc imagine #dc comics #dc

[innerwomen]

Just a couple more minutes…

Pairing: Husband!Bruce Wayne x (Batmom) Reader

SUMMARY: While you’re in a rush to finish getting you and the boys dressed and out the house on time for a gala, Bruce has other plans. But then your reminded, your a mother of four.

TYPE: Fluff and Suggestive.

WARNINGS: slight sexual themes but not any actual action.

“Ma! I can’t find my tie!” Jason yelled from his room in a different hallway.

“Mother, which detailed hem complements my eyes best?” Damien, your youngest asks as he appears next to you holding up two, three piece suits.

“Is there a penalty for not going to the Gala?” Tim asks from his spot on the couch downstairs.

“We are running fifteen minutes behind schedule.” Dick informs from his bathroom.

“Jay, did you check behind the door?” You reply, having known well his habit of leaving it on the doorknob. “Dami, definitely the left one, makes your eyes luring.” You note as you give your best advice. “Yes, Tim, you have to go.” You sigh, having answered the question four times that day. “Thank you, Dickie!” Jason found his tie. Damien left to put on the suit. Tim finished getting dressed. And Dick was impatiently waiting on the rest.

“My, my, my, aren’t you a busy mama?” From the bathroom appeared your husband, dressed to the nines in his black tux, and subtle but distinctive cologne. “Barely have a moment to get dressed yourself, eh, Y/n?”

“I know that sultry, enticing, voice and vocabulary of yours anywhere. We don’t have time, we are already fifteen minutes late!” You say as you shoo him away knowing that whatever he had planned would delay your family leaving any sooner. You, yourself still needed to finish getting dressed.

“Come on baby, what’s a couple more minutes?” He says as he puts on his show stopping smirk as he walks towards you.

“No, Bruce we have to be on time, at least this one time.” You say eyeing him, knowing his tricks when he got into this mood of his. “Be useful and tie my dress up, please.”

“With pleasure.” He walks behind you, he moves your hair onto your shoulder and examines your back. You wore an open back lace black dress that matched his tux, it had crisscrossed string that covered your back. “How tight do you want it my love?”

“I’ll tell you when.” You say as you shiver, feeling his cold hands make contact with your freshly bathed skin.

Bruce noticed but decided not to comment on it, instead he took it as encouragement. He grabbed the access string and began tightening, as he did he moved your body closer to his, he kept bringing you closer waiting until you told him ‘when’, but you didn’t. He kept going until your back was flush against his chest.

He brought his face next to the side of your neck, catching a whiff of the new perfume he had bought you. “Tight enough?” He asked as he made the knot, then grabbing you by the hips.

“Mmhm, yes, thank you.” Heat rushed up from your neck to your face and highlighted your cheeks. “Do you like my dress?” You ask looking forward to the full body mirror in front of you.

Bruce look forward and smiled, he loved the look, the look of him grabbing your hips and towering behind you. The dress was nice, too. “You look absolutely ravishing, my love.” He mentally patted himself on the back for his choice of words. He spun you around, looking down at you, he wasn’t that much taller, but the four inches he was made the difference. He looked at your figure then back at your lips. “Good enough to eat-”

“-Mother which shoes-” Damien stopped mid question when he saw what he had walked into.

“-Ma! Tell Dick to use his own gel-” Right behind was Jason who made a face of disgust.

“-Mom, tell Alfred that I haven’t drank six cups of co-” Soon to follow was Tim who looked mortified at what was in front of him

“-Why are we all just huddling by the door?” On cue Dick appeared and immediately regret joint his brother in the master bedroom. You and Bruce’s bedroom.

Quickly you push yourself away from Bruce and felt your face redden from embarrassment.

Bruce annoyed, sighs, he was so close to kissing you and pinning you to the wall- damn, guess he’ll just have to wait until after the gala. “I’m pretty sure we have established the knock before we enter rule in this house, no?”

All the boys simply nod in response.

“Get over yourselves, and finish getting ready.” He says as he wraps an arm over your shoulder.

As they all leave you catch the boys conversation.

“Tim, what was father going to eat?” Damien asks.

“Something Tim hasn’t eaten in months.” Jason jabs.

“Tch, something Jason’s never had.” Tim says as he eyes his brother.

“One things for sure, I’m sleeping on the couch tonight.” Dick says, remembering that his bedroom is the closest you yours.

You bury your face in Bruce’s chest, “Let’s just finish getting ready…..’

#bruce wayne #bruce x reader #bruce wayne x reader #damien wayne #damian wayne #batmom #batfamily x reader #batman x reader #batfam x reader #dc imagine #dc x reader #batman #batfamily #dick grayson #batfam #dick and tim #jason todd #timothy drake #tim drake #x reader fanfiction #x reader fluff #x reader stories #fem reader #dc batman #fluff #suggestive content

[battymommastuff]

The Greatest Show

Batmom x Batman, Batmom x Batfamily

Prompt: While digging through the attic, Dick Grayson and Jason Todd uncover a secret about their adoptive mother. A secret that reveals the true, and dark story of the most loved couple in Gotham City

Part 1 Masterlist

(P/N): Performer Name

!!DISCLAIMER!! - This likely won't be comic accurate (Obviously), but I did draw inspiration from the comics. If you are looking for something accurate, then this fanfic isn't for you.

The rumbling from the red and white tent could be felt from outside. The cheers of the crowd as Haly's circus put on what they felt would be their best show yet. Everything from the elephants standing on their back legs to the clowns hitting each other with bowling pins. You were peeking from the little opening that led backstage. Many of your fellow performers were either stretching in preparation for their performance, or were relaxing after theirs. You were currently waiting alongside your two closest friends, John and Mary Grayson. The acrobatic duo who recently combined their act with yours. The stakes were higher, but it left the crowd in complete awe. You were one of the fire eaters. You were a younger member of the circus, but had quickly become a fan favorite. 

You were beautiful, and highly skilled at your art. Swallowing fire like water, and twirling torches around without burning you or anyone else. The skill you possessed was outstanding, and Haly never let you forget that. He took you in when you needed help the most, and he made you a star. You would forever be in debt to him. 

"Are you ready, (Y/N)?" Mary asked, resting a hand on your shoulder. You jumped then turned towards her. She and John had just finished their stretches and decided to check on you. From the moment you arrived, they took you under their wing. Teaching you the do's and don'ts of the circus as well as giving you a place to sleep so you didn't have to bunk with the others in their crowded space. Though you quickly earned a little tent of your own after your spike in popularity. 

"Yes, I'm alright..." You said, with a small smile, "But what about you? Should you be performing in your condition?" You asked while looking down at Mary's stomach. She was currently one month pregnant, and the entire circus doted over her. Everyone was so excited to have a new member of their family. Whoever this kid was going to be, you just knew you would love them unconditionally. Mary reassured you for the millionth time that she would be alright before she and John were ushered up a small ladder that led to the top of the tent. You, on the other hand, were standing by the curtain, waiting for Haly to announce you. 

"And now...our next performance needs no introduction...you know them...you love them! The Flying Graysons! Featuring our star Fire eater (P/N)!" 

As soon as you heard your name, you ran out. Instantly lighting your torch and twirling it around while taking a sip of alcohol. You spat the liquid at the flame causing it to poof into the air as soon as Mary did a flip in the air and caught John's arms. 

Nothing could ever satisfy that rush in your heart. The thrill of the crowd's reaction to your tricks. The high it gave you was better than any drug. Here you were, twirling two flaming torches in your hand as you watched above you. John and Mary Grayson were flying through the air. No one knew who to watch first. The couple who seemed to defy gravity, or the woman who could eat fire. Even with them in the air and you on the ground, everyone could see the chemistry you had. It's why your combined act never failed. With a big smile, you leaned back while lowering one of the torches towards your mouth. The crowd watched in awe as the fire went into your mouth. You popped your head back up with the extinguished torch in your hand. Tossing it to one of the helpers, you lifted your now free arm in the air while twirling the other torch in your hand. 

John, swooping down picked you up and you were now in the air. An act practiced hundred of times. His legs holding onto the trapeze as you both circled around the tent, the torch never falling from your hand. 

Your act was truly amazing, and it seemed to catch the eye of a certain crowd member. Bruce Wayne. Growing up, he loved to visit the circus with his parents. After their death, he avoided anything to do with it. Now he was back, but under different circumstances. For a while he'd been investigating the circus. He recently found old notes left by his father. The Court of Owls. A secret society of the Gotham elite. Their goal is to rid the city of crime, by any means. He wasn't surprised to know that his father had come in contact with them, but was surprised to see the theory that Haly's circus was a front. The members were training to be potential Talon members. The Court's lethal assassins. The circus always seemed to favor Gotham. Their stop here would last weeks while other stops would last days. Most of their members were young, and always seemed to vanish from the show after a while. He was here to find out the truth, and put a stop to it. At least he hoped he could. It was difficult to fight a conspiracy that his father barely had proof on. 

Despite his goal, he couldn't bring himself to move from his spot. You were gorgeous. He had a genuine smile on his face while watching your act. He's seen fire eaters before, but something about felt different. You didn't seem corrupt or up to no good. You looked as if you truly loved what you were doing. Maybe he could recruit you? Having inside knowledge would be beneficial. 

Your act went on, and you left the circle with loud cheers. Your heart was racing so fast, it felt like you were going to have a heart attack. John and Mary arrived shortly after with large smiles of their own, "You did amazing!" You squealed while hugging them both. You were new to the acrobatic world, but had the best teachers in the world. 

After the show ended and everyone turned in for the night, you were sitting outside of your tent. Your throat is slightly irritated from the alcohol, but nothing too bad. Luckily tomorrow was an off day for the circus. You could rest a little before practice. It was a peaceful night, and you were happy to relax in it. At least until a deep and intimidating voice nearly scared the skin off of you. 

"(Y/N) (L/N)? We need to talk."

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TAGLIST

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