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#Batfamily x sister reader
jasmines-library · 3 months
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Hi love <3!
I was wondering if you’d feel comfortable with writing something with the bat-family finding out that the reader has like, the abilities to transfer injuries to themselves.
Like, one of them is hurt and reader just rips their gloves off mid mission and drops to their side, transferring the injury to themself. Bonus points if they automatically transfer some psychological trauma as well? And maybe reader avoiding talking about it and stuff, the family finally seeing the countless scars that reader got because of their power.
(This is has been stuck in my head for forever and I’ve never seen anyone write the bat-family as good as you do, so <3)
Heal
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Note: I've literally wanted to write something like this for ages! thank you for requesting ❤️ also tumblr was throwing a tantrum and not letting me put the image I wanted as a header so you get a GIF instead :(
Warnings: Blood, Injury, Scars.
Word count: 1.7k
⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤
“Robin!”
The scream ripped itself from your throat as you saw him drop to the ground. The crook stood over him, removing the dagger that dripped with crimson red from where he had plunged it into Damians thigh. You practically launched yourself across the street as he fled, dropping to his side. He clutched feebly at the wound, eyes screwed up in pain. Your hand hovered over the wound as he cried out in pain gawping at the open wound. Blood gushed from the deep wound staining the concrete.
“Hold on Robin, you’re gonna be fine.” you told him as you tore off your gloves and discarded them on the ground. 
Then, pressing your hand firmly over the wound and wincing at his shout of discomfort, you began to heal the wound. It was a strange sensation that no matter how many times you felt, you never seemed to get used to. The tingling ran up your arms but quickly replaced by an agonising burn as Damian’s wound began to heal on his skin and began to appear beneath your thigh beneath your suit. You bit your lip to hold back the cry as you watched the gaping wound close leaving behind nothing but shiny new skin and another hole in his suit for Alfred to patch up.
Damian pushed himself up onto his forearms to regain his composure when he felt the pain dissipate from his body. Around you, the rest of the vigilantes were still battling the criminals who seemed to be flanking in from every possible angle. You helped him to his feet, asking if he was alright as you pulled on your gloves. He gave you a brief nod of thanks before dashing off with his katana in hand to help his family. You staggered behind him trying to hide the limp that you had developed from the wound. You could already feel it healing; one of the many perks of your abilities, but it still hurt like a bitch. But you pressed forward anyway, gripping your weapon tightly to help with the fight.
You had had much worse. Much much worse. Like that one time that Joker had captured Tim…you took all of his injuries. But the thing is, with injuries come memories. Each cell carries its own story. And every time you take on a wound, you take on some of the trauma that comes with it. It's not your own, but it feels so real. The images play inside your head on loop like a movie often cropping up at the worst times. The worst time was when Jason died. Although when he returned he was physically healed, he was still struggling; scarred by the memories that haunted him. So, when he started recklessly patrolling and you had offered to heal him, you took away as much of it as you could. 
Sometimes it was the memories that hurt more than the actual wounds themselves. To see and feel what they had been through broke you completely. The torment that Jason had been through that you had seen was something you couldn’t even muster up the words to describe. You couldn’t imagine what he went through and you would never be able to heal him completely, but you were glad you could help him as much as you could. Glad you could take away any of their pain even if it meant that you had to feel it for them. 
They didn’t know this. You had kept it somewhat hidden from them. The vigilantes knew you could heal wounds, but they didn’t know that you took on the injury. And you wanted to keep it that way because you knew that if they found out they would just stop you from doing it and you would be left feeling useless on the sidelines. 
Nightwing dropped down beside you, noting your slight limp as you fought against the criminals. They seemed to be thinning out now with the five of you fighting them. They either fled or dropped to the ground like flies.
“You alright?” He asked, swinging a right hook and sending a guy wielding a crowbar. You winced at the sight of it, hit with Jasons memories again.  
“Fine.” You grunted out as you blocked another oncomer. 
“You sure? You’re favouring your left side.” 
God damn you, Grayson. 
“Fine. Just took a hit is all but it’ll heal quickly. You know me.”
He eyed you uncertainly. He knew you were lying but he dismissed it. Dick had always had a suspicion that more happened to you than you let on but he had never pressed you to talk about it. Though, he was going to find out much sooner than you had hoped.
~
You stared at the scab on your thigh in the mirror; it would soon become a new addition to the tapestry of scars that covered your body. It was ragged, torn and an ugly reminder of the blade that stuck out of the young Wayne’s leg. Some of the scars that marred up your smooth skin were yours, though most of them once belonged to the boys. 
The scars flecked almost every inch of your body, all varying in size and shape. Some were small and round, others long and jagged and some in between. And though the scars saved your boys, you couldn’t sometimes help but wish that you weren’t left with them. Sometimes, it all became too much. For example when you healed a wound that had been forced upon them in such a brutal way that you would lie awake for hours with your eyes squeezed shut tight as you curled up on your bed waiting for the haunting memories to pass. Although your abilities meant that you healed quicker, sometimes you were still left managing the wound for days as it healed whilst still trying to hide it from the boys. You suffered in silence, often pondering if you should just tell them… but you never did. And it was worth it because seeing them okay put a smile on your face. 
You didn’t like to talk much about your abilities and how they worked, no matter how much they pressed you. Everytime the topic was brought up you would go quiet, or quickly change the subject, trying not to let the feelings resurface. You buried them deep to keep your secret.
“You okay, kid?” Jason frowned as you walked into the library, poorly disguising the last of your limp. He was lounging on one of the couches as he delved into one of Bruce’s many hardbacks. 
“Yeah I’m fine.” you dismissed, running your finger over the spines as you scanned the shelf for something to read to try and give yourself something to do for a few hours while your leg continued to heal. 
“You said that earlier.” Dick poked his head around the door, noting the way you tilted most of your weight onto your left foot as you stood on your toes to grab a book. “Your leg still bothering you?”
“A little, but it’s healing.” You shrugged, taking your book over to the couch and settling beside Jason. 
The eldest Wayne frowned, forcing wrinkles onto his forehead. “Shouldn’t a hit have healed by now?”
You cursed mentally. “It was a nasty hit.”
“You know, thinking about it didn’t Damian take a knife to the thigh?” Jason asked. 
“Yes.” Damian appeared in the doorway with Tim. “Y/N healed me though.”
“Strange.” Dick noted, tilting his head to look at you. The four of them had had a suspicion for a little while that something was going on. The way you avoided the topic was like having a sign waving above your head. 
“... it’s just a coincidence.”
“Just like the time you injured your arm training after healing my broken one?” Tim had you stuck. 
You bit your lip in the silence of the room. 
“Fine. Maybe I haven’t been totally honest with you all.”
Jason sat up and leaned forwards in his seat “Go on.”
You took a deep breath, preparing for their onslaught as you revealed the truth. “When I heal a wound, it doesn’t just…vanish.” The four of them watched you intently and you could feel a sheen of sweat try to break out across your forehead. “It transfers to me instead.”
Damian stared at you agape “But…”
“You’ve healed us so many times.” Dick said. “That's gotta be…”
Tugging your hoodie over your head, you revealed the scars to them for the first time. Tim had to hold back his shock. 
“Oh y/n/n…” The vigilantes all looked at the countless scars that covered your skin. 
“They’re not all yours.” You tried to lighten the mood, albeit it seemed to have little effect. 
“How have we been letting you do this? We should have know-”
“Stop.” You shut Tim down. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you. Healing you is… special. Making sure that you guys get to live another day is more important to me than anything.”
“But you’re hurting yourself…” Damian said shyly, feeling incredibly guilty.
“It doesn’t hurt bad. My accelerated healing means I can get rid of wounds that would take weeks for you to heal in a number of days. Sometimes hours. I like helping you.”
The boys narrowed their eyes at you. They were sceptical however they could see the truth behind it. You were selfless; always giving to others in need. They didn’t like that you were being hurt because of their recklessness, and they were angry with themselves that you felt you couldn’t tell them the truth, but they could see the reasoning behind it.
“Besides” You added. “I think the scars are pretty cool. Like a piece of artwork. And I can use them to blackmail you in the future.” You grinned.
“Tt.” Damian rolled his eyes. “They are pretty cool though…”
There was a nod of agreement. 
“Thank you. y/n/n.” Dick said. “I honestly don’t know what we would do without you.”
“Bleed out and die probably.” You joked and he hummed with laughter.
“On a serious note,” Dick added “We have seriously got to stop getting hurt so much.”
🦇 Batfam Taglist:
@mamapucket
@xxrougefangxx
@hell-o-kittys
@aestheticdaisies
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Text
*The Batfamily: hiding to try to throw a surprise party for Y/N*
Jason: *from behind a chair* Stop moving, Dickie-Bird, you’re louder than a bulldozer!
Dick: *from behind the couch* Well, sorry that Steph won’t move out of my way!
Steph: *kicking him* This is my hiding spot! Find your own!
Damian: *rolling his eyes* You imbeciles are acting like children
Tim: Everyone shut up- I think Y/N’s walking into the house!
Jason: Oh, really? Because I couldn’t hear anything over your loud ass breathing, replacement!
Dick: *whining* Why can’t anything ever be easy?
Tim: You guys are all going to ruin the surprise, shut up!
Y/N: *crouching beside Dick* Who are we waiting for?
Batfamily: *all let out high pitched screams*
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dead-sane-stuff · 9 months
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* Damian telling some story*
Jason: That is such bullshit
Damian: NO IT IS NOT
Y/n: Jason, if Damian says it's true then who are we to believe otherwise
Jason: Oh Okay, but no one believes me when I say I beat the last level of Mortal Kombat.
Y/n: Because that's just ridiculous Jason, no one beats Sub-Zero or Kronika
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rainnyydaysworld · 4 months
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Reader: *coughs blood*
Dick: Don't die, Y/N!
Reader: Don't tell me what to do!
Bruce: And have you learnt anything this Christmas, Y/N?
Reader: …Not really.
Bruce: Nothing?
Reader: Tell you one thing I have learnt—Christmas; ultimately, commercial holiday. Who's the real winner at Christmas? Amazon. they have drones now! Tiny little dystopian slaves delivering iPads and headphones. I ordered a toaster; It was on the doorstep five hours later! Do we need that? It was 4.99! For a toaster! I mean, someone's being exploited there.
Steph: You know guys, sometimes I feel like Reader doesn't take me seriously enough.
Bruce: "Sometimes"?
Jason: "Enough"?
Steph:
Jason: Change that to 'at all' and we'll talk.
Damian: Who wants to go out of the country on a road trip?
Reader: Yea, I could drink legally!
Tim: I could hang out with the boys!
Jason: I could hide from the consequences of my actions.
Damian & Dick: *accidentally set the kitchen on fire*
Dick: We need an adult!
Damian: Grayson, you are an adult!
Dick: We need an adultier adult! Get Jason!
Reader: Hey Jason, I’ve got an idea for how to solve this.
Jason, pulling out a shotgun: Yeah?
Reader: Wh- No! That’s not the idea, Jason!
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batsis-reader · 16 days
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Batsis, peeling a banana: May I take your jacket, sir? Hahahaha.
Damian: Do you think other people can’t hear you?
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tsuvvy · 3 months
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Damian would never admit it but he actually loves coloring with little sister reader 😚 It’s such a nice stress reliever for him after a chaotic day as a teenage vigilante. Would love to see you write this!!
Color Therapy
Pairing: Damian Wayne x youngest sibling reader
Summary: Damian couldn't deny you were sweeter than you put yourself off to be. And, coloring was more therapeutic than he was expecting.
Warnings: Mentions of you living on Gotham streets and being homeless, mention of robberies, nothing really bad in this though
Word Count: 1.2k
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You were an odd kid, that's for sure. You were younger than Damian, about a year or two, so he had expected someone more.. Childlike.
But you were an indifferent kid. You obviously came from a rough background, having grown up on the streets of Gotham. But still. His point stands when he was expecting someone more childlike.
You never reacted to the glares or scowls you received from him. You only returned his mean, annoyed gazes with a calm, unconcerned one of your own. Slowly, Damian had stopped giving you these scowls and glares.
And slowly, his school and vigilante work started to take up most of his time. He'd started visiting the library more often to study for his exams and finish his homework. And with that, he noticed something. He'd noticed it was common for him to find you within the library with a sheet of paper and just some highlighters. Usually, he'd just ignore your presence and sit elsewhere in the library.
He doesn't know why, but. He just started sitting with you. Neither of you would say a word. You would just sit in the comfortable silence filled with your coloring of highlighters on paper, and Damian’s typing of keys on his computer and turning of book pages.
“Y/n,” he finally spoke your name after a few days. You looked up at him. “Why do you only have highlighters?”
You looked down at your piece of paper for a second before saying, “They were all I could find.” You looked back up at him. Damian and you left that conversation there.
But the next time he came to the library, he dropped a pack of nice colored pencils in front of you.
You stared at the pencils for a moment before looking up at him. He caught your gaze.
“What?” He asked, looking back down at the book he had for his homework.
“Wanna color with me?” You asked abruptly. It made Damian pause in his tracks. He looked up at you, his gaze flitting to your paper, the highlighters, and the colored pencils he'd just given you.
“No.” He said, looking back at his book. But something kept him from reading. “Thank you, though..” His voice was quieter.
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Nights like this tired Damian out. It was a stressful night. It was just supposed to be a patrol. But there were a string of robberies out of seemingly nowhere. He was exhausted.
And now he was slugging throughout the halls. He yawned just as he passed an agape door. He glanced through the crack. And what he saw made him stop in his tracks.
You were laying on the floor of your room coloring with the pencils he had given you. He didn't know why he stepped forward to your door. And he didn't know why he pushed it open.
You looked up at him. And he looked back at you. You seem to understand what even Damian couldn't.
“Wanna color?” You asked again like you had earlier.
Damian glanced down the hall to his room before looking back at you and your coloring stuff.
“Fine..” He gave in, stepping into your room and sitting on the floor across from you. He took the paper you handed him and grabbed a few colored pencils from the box you had moved closer to him.
It took him a moment to decide what he wanted to draw. But when he began to draw, it was weird.
His head was empty and it just seemed so.. Simple? He was calm..
“Can I use the red?” You asked, your hand was out awaiting for the red pencil.
“Yeah,” He put the red colored pencil in your hand.
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Damian sighed as he put a textbook he had acquired from math on the library table.
Damian glanced at you from across the table, you were coloring like always. Then he looked down at his homework. He didn't want to do this. He never did. Homework was annoying. And you seemed to read his mind, because without even looking at him, you passed him a sheet of paper and moved the box closer to him.
Damian closed his computer and stood up from his seat. He moved to one next to you so you could both share the pencils better.
Damian could practically feel his stress and annoyance slowly wash off of him.
“Purple please,” You asked him.
“Mhm,” He hummed, finishing the area he needed to with the purple before he placed it into your hand.
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“Damian,” you called his name within the halls of school.
“What?” He looked down at you when you took up pace with him.
“All the colored pencils in the box you gave me are short and hard to use now,” You told him, looking up at him.
“Alright,” He looked ahead, “I’ll get some more, then.”
“Could you get a bigger box with more variety in colors?” You asked.
“Yeah, I can.” He nodded.
“Thank you!” You said, hugging his arm abruptly before running off to class, joining a few kids you had made at the very least acquaintances with.
The way you hugged his arm startled him, he hadn’t expected it. He watched you run off, his heart feeling like it’s blooming like a flower.
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Damian dropped the box in front of you where you sat on the floor of your room. He took a seat across from you much like he had the first time he joined you for coloring.
You looked at the back where the names of all the colors were, and sure enough, there was more of a variety like you had requested.
You passed him a piece of paper and put the box in between you two so you both could reach it.
“Why do you color so much?” Damian asked you.
“My head is quiet when I do.” You replied.
Damian paused in his coloring, looking up at you. “What do you think about when you don’t?”
You were quiet for a moment. “What I saw growing up on the streets of Gotham.” He didn’t need you to go into detail to know what that short sentence implied.
He looked backed down at his sheet of paper. He put the pencil he had down.
“Are you using the light green?” He asked. You shook your head and handed him the light green pencil.
You two were quiet for awhile. Silently coloring in a comfortable silence.
“You know you’re safe here, right?” He looked at you, and you finally looked back at him. “You’re here for good, you aren’t going anywhere.”
You stayed quiet.
“You’re safe here.”
You stayed quiet.
“Say something.”
“Thank you.”
Damian looked back down at his sheet of paper at your words, taking it as your understanding of his words.
Damian usually thinks of his own traumas when nothing occupies his brain. Or he’s doing homework. Or he’s fighting crime.
He doesn’t often give himself moments of peace.
But when he’s coloring with you in a comfortable silence like he is now. It’s like for once, a moment of peace washes over him.
He hated to admit it. But you and your dumb coloring were nice. It was nice for him to finally have a quiet moment.
Damian hates being vulnerable, and he feels almost vulnerable.
But he couldn’t deny it anymore. These moments were therapeutic.
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book-place · 1 year
Text
Sulking at the Gala
Warnings: none (I think), let me know if I missed any :)
Pairings: Batfamily x batsis!reader
Request: Heyyy!! I was thinking about batfam x batsis going to a gala and hanging out with the kids. She swears that she hates them, but she could never stay mad at a child for too long. Her brothers were kinda confused, because shy were you hanging out with little kids and not them? They were kinda jealous tbh. You'd be seen playing peekaboo with a baby or carrying them in the air like superman. Sorry if this made no sense, I wanted to keep it simple so you could kinda add/ change some things if you wanted to. Have a nice day!
Request by: Anon
*not my gif*
Summary: You absolutely hate going to galas. You’re always miserable during them… right?
A/N: I didn’t know how to end it so… I just ended it 😭😭
Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work
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You pulled down on your dress with a grumble, a hard glare set on your face as you walked side by side with your family into the lavish building.
Bruce nudged your side with a glare, “Smile,” He urged desperately, “At least let the paparazzi get one picture of you being happy.”
Your own glare found its way to your fathers form, “I’ll smile when I’m back home in my bed, in my pajamas,” You hissed back.
It was no secret that you despised galas more than any of your other siblings, which is saying something. Not only did you hate the people there, but you also hated the fact that they always brought their kids. Kids were obnoxious and downright annoying. From what your family had gathered over the years, you had absolutely no tolerance for them.
When times came around that you were dragged kicking and screaming to a gala, you would sulk in the corner the entire time, glaring and snapping at any member of your family that tried to make you leave and interact with people.
“So, how much you wanna bet that Y/n sits down and doesn’t get up until this stupid party’s over?” Jason snickered, purposefully talking loud enough for you to overhear.
You marched over and punched him in the arm, not caring as Bruce chuckled nervously while glancing at the onlooking crowd. Dick and Tim laughed loudly as Jason scowled and rubbed the sore spot on his shoulder and even Damian smirked a little bit.
When you and your family finally surged through the sea of people at the door and were finally free to mill around, you automatically made a beeline to a corner table, snatching appetizers off trays as you went.
Your father sighed, running a tried hand down his face, “She can’t just try to enjoy one of these parties?” He groaned slightly.
Dick sighed, mockingly patting his shoulder comfortingly, “Guess she doesn’t find these nearly as exciting as you,”
He skipped off cackling with his brothers following closely on his heels, ignoring Bruce’s exhausted expression.
Your head snapped up when you felt someone tap you on the shoulder, ready to tell your brothers off, but instead, you were met with the sight of a young girl- about four years old- smiling up at you bashfully.
“Hi,” She whispered shyly.
“Hi,” You greeted back dumbly.
“What’s your name?” She began rocking back and forth on her heels.
“Y/n,” You hesitated, “What’s yours?”
She grinned, “Makayla!”
About an hour had passed dully as Dick, Jason, Tim, and Jason all lounged around a table near the dance floor, bored out of their minds.
“Look at him,” Jason scoffed, eying Bruce from across the room as he laughed loudly at what some random ceo had said, “He enjoys watching us be miserable.”
Tim sighed, dropping his head back, “Now I know why n/n makes such a big deal about these things.”
“Speaking of,” Dick piped up, “How do you think she’s doing?”
“L/n?” Damian suddenly stuttered out.
Tim looked over at him incredulously, “Yeah, who else?”
“No, I mean look at her,” The young boy insisted.
All at once, all of their heads snapped over in your direction and their jaws dropped open, gaping at you in complete shock.
You stood with a large group of children surrounding you ranging from the ages of three to eight, all of them either standing or sitting around while looking up at you in awe.
The large smile on your face made them nearly die of shock as they watched you spin around with a small child in your arms, who was giggling like crazy.
“What is she-“ Dick choked out.
“She’s…” Tim couldn’t even form a full thought.
You put the kid down and bent down near two younger children and began playing peekaboo with them, watching with a smile as they burst out into fits of laughter.
“But… she does not like spending time with us during these galas.” Damian spoke up with a small glare in the childrens directions.
“She’d rather hang out with kids then us?” Dick shrieked in horror.
“I never thought I’d see the day.”
All four boys snapped their attentions to an amused looking Bruce, who stood behind them and watched as you ticked a close by kids stomach.
“Why is she-“
“Who knows?” Bruce cut Tim off with a shrug, “But at least she’s not sulking anymore.”
The Superior Robin ❤️- @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker @i-writes-things @ladyagagaslefttoe
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visionofhope04 · 1 year
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Hiii I was wondering if you could do Batfam x sister reader being Damian’s twin and rather than persuing the same thing as their dad and being a vigilante she becomes a famous singer (ya know famous name and good music) and she releases and album (maybe emails I can’t send idk something) and like family being there for her first sold out concert and yeah just supportive of her carrere
Angst is my thing but I’ll do my best to make this as fluffy as possible. Not beta read, sorry if there are any mistakes, feel free to let me know. Hope you like it!
—-
“Father?”
“Yes?” Bruce was concerned. You kept shifting your weight and fiddling with your fingers. He’s never seen you this nervous before. He tensed, preparing for the worst.
“Iwanttobeasinger.” You blurted, looking anywhere you could that wasn’t his face.
Bruce blinked. “Can you say that a bit slower please sweetheart?”
You took a steadying deep breath. “I want to be a singer.” You said significantly slower.
Bruce let out a deep breath and let his body sag. He’d never been religious but in that moment he thanked whatever was up there for helping him.
You looked at him, confused.
“I thought you were gonna ask to be a vigilante.”
Your face contorted in alarm. “Me? A vigilante? Never.”
He chuckled and then brought attention back to what you said. “So you want to be a singer? How do you plan on doing this?”
“Y-you don’t care?” You questioned in shock.
“Why would I care? You’re my daughter and I will always love and support you. I’m glad you found something you really enjoy and intend to make a career out of it. Finding something you enjoy doing is hard, being able to make a career out of it is harder. If it makes you happy then I’ll gladly help you with it if you need it.”
“Even though it’s a bad career?”
“Some people in it may be bad but it doesn’t make the career bad. Music is all about self expression and is a great outlet for emotions. It brings people together and makes them realize they’re not alone. I think you’ll be an amazing singer.”
You began to tear up but do your best to hold it back, “Thank you father.”
—-
“I want to be a singer.”
Immediately, everyone stopped talking and looked at you. You did your best to not shrink under the sudden attention. Usually, you never spoke at the dinner table, content to just listen.
“That sounds like a great idea Birdy!” Dick said.
“Lil sis’ gonna be the talk of the town.” Jason smirked at you.
“That’s great! I can’t wait to hear it! Tim exclaimed.
Damian’s reaction is the one you feared the most. He’d always disliked you leaving behind the life of fighting for a mundane one.
“I think that is a respectable profession.”
At your brothers’ approval, you broke out into a wide grin. Bruce was smiling openly at you all and wondered how he got so lucky to have such an amazing, supportive family.
---
You were backstage, makeup done, earpiece linked, and microphone ready to go. You were really nervous. This was going to be your first-ever live performance since you released your first album. It was such a hit, it became the number 1 album on the charts a few hours after release, with over 30 million streams. You were stuck in your thoughts when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned to look at the person, it was your father.
"Don't be nervous, you're going to do great. I'm so proud of you. You're so talented and amazing. They're going to love you out there."
"Thanks dad." You smiled. His words warmed your heart. No one ever told you they were proud of you before. Despite what he said, you still felt a little nervous.
After waiting a bit more, it was time for you to get on stage. You heard cheering in the crowd as you emerged from the darkness. Now in the spotlight, your nerves came back tenfold. The bright lights blinded you, but you could still see the silhouettes of everyone who came to see you tonight. There were way more people here than you expected. You stepped up to the mic and adjusted it.
"Hello," The crowd's cheering picked up. You smiled and waited for it to quiet down before continuing. "thank you all for coming. I appreciate every single one of you. You made it possible for me to be standing here right now and I am so grateful. Enjoy the show!" The crowd's cheering picked up yet again as your first song came on.
---
You were so tired but so, so happy. The concert was a major success and nothing went wrong. You had so much fun getting to know your audience and calling people up on stage. You got backstage and your whole family was there.
"You did amazing!!"
"You're my new favorite singer."
"She's been my favorite singer, keep up."
"Your voice is unmatched, my dear girl."
"I knew you could do it."
"You were adequate, don't let the praise get to your head."
Your face hurt from grinning, and you could help but feel elated. Your family's support meant the world to you, and you were so grateful for it.
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cas-backwards-tie · 8 months
Text
Chapter Five: Threatened to Reset
Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader
Heiress of Gotham
Masterlist | Previous Chapter
Summary: With the family's help everything is planned for the big move. A trip to Bludhaven to organize, pack, and move all your belongings leaves the past to be drug up. How will they react to your home? Will any secrets be found? Will emotions rise? Will your past be disclosed? It's all up to you... and maybe a crime boss and his goons.
Words: 4.3k
Warnings: The usual Banter and Bickering, Cursing, Knives, Threatening, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Arguing, Fighting, Shame, Guilt, Fight or Flight.
Mentions of: Sex Trafficking, Criminal Activities, Police, Drug Busts, Prostitution, Assassins.
A/N: There's a lot of information to digest in the chapter, and really what was meant to be one chapters I actually am going to have to split up in order to make them manageable. It's been awhile, and while I'm still trying to figure out how to manage my life in the sense of hobbies, work, my health, a possible second job, and extracurriculars, I request you all be patient with me. I definitely do have more in store, yet for now this chapter isn't proofread (at least the beginning and end) I just need to get this one out.
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Having discussed tomorrow’s events as a group at dinner, your Father let you lead the charge in what would happen with your apartment’s belongings. Decided on packing everything up and either donating the things you don’t need, storing the important things, and transporting the things you do need, it all was simple enough. Nothing a little packing tape and rounds of boxes won’t fix.
Starting the day with a hearty breakfast from Alfred, you all packed into a minivan you didn't know or think the Bruce Wayne would ever own or have anything to do with. Nevertheless, the ride was fairly timely to get to your old apartment building. Saying hello to the few neighbors coming in and out who you recognized and knew, you led the gang the seventeen flights and begrudgingly let them inside. You knew sooner or later they'd out where and how you lived. It definitely isn't as nice as Wayne Manor, but of course, what else could you expect?
Assigning everyone to different spots and or groups of items in the apartment, you really feel like they went for overkill. A welcoming and slightly overwhelming sense of love blossoms in your chest as they really didn't all need to help, but everyone insisted on coming. Even Tim's girlfriend, Stephanie. How nice, you think, for someone to actually care that much to go out of their way. Family almost congesting the apartment, you focus on your room and belongings. The fact that Damian hasn't even made any rude remarks (that you know of) is surprising.
After almost everything is packed and it's a few hours past noon, Alfred gets tired. Damian insists he's spent enough time in this 'hellhole' and almost demands that Alfred take him home. With the time having gotten away from you and some of the others, it seems to no one's surprise that Tim and Stephanie also apologetically explain their need to leave. They have homework they need to get done; and with that, Alfred agrees that it might be best to head back to the Manor with everyone who needs to leave. Dick lives in Bludhaven, so there's no surprise he'd stay, and while Jason has his motorcycle, he says he doesn't mind staying until it's all finished. Bruce having come separately after checking in at work explains that the two of you can drive back together once everything's done. It'd been lucky enough that he'd brought his car, and not one of the nicer ones, either.
Searching all the nearby boxes, you don’t find it. It’s nowhere to be seen, and if it’s not here then that can only mean one thing: They took it. Opening up the box near the kitchen you retrieve a butcher’s knife. Hand gripping the handle tightly you storm to the front door and lock it.
“Woah, woah- what’s going on?” Jason asks, hands raising in concern as he stops boxing the books that’d been on the nearby shelf.
With a tense look in his eyes, you adjust the knife in your palm, getting a better and more sturdy grip on it. Other hand rising to your mouth you place your pointer finger before your lips. A tacit command of ‘silence’. Jason’s fear had drawn the attention of the other two, though you ignore them as you quickly storm through the living room and down the hall.
Eyes flitting back and forth out the window, up and down the fire escape you quickly return with the same fervor you’d previously held. “Why do you have a knife?” Dick questions.
Back to the front door, you simultaneously listen to the hallway, hoping that if anyone were to come, you’d hear them first and be ready. In the attempt at a raid via bursting in through the door, at least you’ll be the first one in the line of fire able to protect everyone. While the worst case scenario always pops into your mind first, you’re not oblivious to the measly chance this could simply chalk up to coincidence. Holding out the knife, you point to each man in the room as your gaze shifts between them.
“Look. There was a gun in there last time we were here. It’s always there. If none of you have seen it, let alone packed it away… then we have a big problem,” you reveal. Knife pointed in the direction of the safe that's now open within a drawer of the tv stand, it's clear that everything else has been packed away.
Between the couch and television diagonally to your left stands Dick. Hands raised, he holds a stoic expression as he stands closest to the safe. His blue eyes flit to Jason. Knife shifting toward him, he too stands with his hands by his waist, palms facing you. Eyes filled with confusion and concern, he shifts his weight as he stands across the room in the corner between the kitchen's counter and beside the opening to the hallway. His green eyes shift to Bruce.
Before you can even turn the knife on the man closest to you, diagonally standing in the kitchen opening to your right, someone speaks up. “I took it,” Jason announces. All eyes dart to him and you watch as he slowly starts to reach around his back towards his waistband. Out of the corner of your eye you spot Bruce move.
“Don’t!” You warn, stepping back and pointing the knife at him. He’s not going to disarm you. Eyes back on Jason, you motion with the knife for him to place the produced gun onto the table between you two. Gun dangling from his fingers, he doesn’t move, so you gesture again with more of a ferocity this time. “Put it on the table.” It’s a command, not a request.
He slides it across the table. Three steps close the distance between you and the item. Though Bruce could easily do something behind your back, just out of your peripheral vision now, you focus on the task at hand. One look at the gun has you skeptical; face tense, you use the knife to turn the gun around. The examination is short. One flip of the gun onto its other side and a quick lift into your hands to make sure the safety is on, you release the bullet cartridge to find that one bullet is missing. With a click of the cartridge locking back into place, you toss it back onto the table.
Storming back to the door where you're at a far enough distance from all of them, your forearms rest against the splintering wood, face buried within them for a moment to gather yourself. Slowly turning back toward the men, but more specifically Jason, you glare daggers at him. “Why didn’t you just tell me you had the gun when I first mentioned it missing,” not waiting for an answer, your head tilts a bit as you don’t play his game. “Nevertheless, did you really think I’d be stupid enough to not recognize that that’s an entirely different gun? So what’s your game?”
Silence lingers. Jason knows he’s fucked, and they all know it too. Why did he think she’d fall for that? It was worth a shot, sure, but the real gun is still back at the Batcave. However, she can’t know that. “There’s no game,” Bruce says your name, a sincere look in his eyes.
“I wasn’t asking you,” you bark, knife turning on him as he tries again to take a step closer. His hands are still raised in an attempt to de-escalate the situation.
The silence is expected, however, the smile that creepily inches across your lips is not. A shift of the knife in your palm has you gripping the handle in an underhanded approach, ready to stab, rather than slice. “Ha,” you scoff, “I knew it… too good to be true. I can respect the lengths he’ll go to play his little games, but this is just beyond fucked. A ploy to what? Fuck with me, pretend to be my family, and now what? Kill me? I knew it. After yesterday, I just knew it was coming.”
“What are you talking about?” Jason asks incredulously, a hint of anger and fear within his tone.
“Who?” Dick asks coldly, taking a step closer.
“Antonio Marin?” Bruce asks. Eyes darting to meet his, you shift the knife in your palm again to get a better grip on it.
“Oh, you wanna play it this way? Act all fucking coy and innocent now?” Gears shifting, you eye the other two men. “Unless he’s just another victim to his plan, I don’t buy it. Richest man in the world and he’s a good guy? Yeah? No.”
“Should’ve known,” you sigh, shaking your head. “BPD? Too obvious.” With a sad smile and tears beginning to threaten your eyes, you chuckle. “Well if he wants me, then go ahead. I’ve got nothing left. If I’m the last piece to the puzzle then do it. Kill me. It’s three to one, I know you’ve got a gun and more than enough bullets to take me.” You thump your chest with your free hand, open, ready to accept your fate. “Do it! Shoot me, Jason. Right now! Kill me.”
As if the reality of the situation suddenly dawns on you, fear readily replaces the confidence you’d just boasted. Backing up against the door you shift the knife in your hand to a stabbing position again, as you continue to shift it, unsure which approach will be best in your defense. Suddenly you're terrified of what’s to come. “No… no. Three big men on one teenage girl?” The way Jason had hesitated, it’s apparent. “I knew he was expanding the business, but like this? NO.” Chest heaving with rapid breaths, you’re suddenly running on pure adrenaline. Panic sets in as you know what the man's got planned for you. “If you want me then I’m not going down alone. I’ll kill myself before I let that happen to me- and if that doesn’t work then I’ll mangle myself SO badly that nobody will buy me,” you threaten, voice deepening in a terrifyingly chilling way.
Placing the knife against your neck, you’re more than ready to take yourself off the table. You won’t let that happen to yourself. You won’t let anyone take advantage of you that way. A punishment worse than death is something you're not willing to participate in, nor offer.
Dick calls your name in a calm tone, one far too calm for this situation. “This isn’t any ploy, or game. We don’t work for anyone. If you think someone’s after you, you need to tell us. We can’t help you if we don’t know what’s going on.”
“Oh,” you relinquish too easily, knife falling back to your side. Turning to face the door your eyes settle against it for a moment before spinning back to face the man. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that Officer Grayson from the BPD was here! I’ll just tell you everything so you can either arrest me or take me out on his behalf!” With a step toward him, you raise the knife by your side again. “Do you really think I’m that stupid, Grayson? That I wouldn’t realize you’d try to get a confession out of me, record this- have them take a voice memo? This isn’t my first rodeo.”
"It's not like that. We're just trying to help! You can't seriously believe this is all some conspiracy against you," Dick argues. His voice is still calm, and while the raised brow elicits a begrudging irk and prick of paranoia in your mind, his words do nothing but continue to cause the gears to mentally turn. "If someone wanted to take you out there would've been easier methods. You would've been dead weeks ago."
A wry chuckle leaves your lips, a knowing smile still set on your features as you two stand off with one another. "Sure... if it was anyone else. Yet that's not how he plays his game and you know it."
"You still think I'm corrupt?" Dick asks, shifting his weight to lean into his hip on one side.
"How could you not be?! Look at me and tell me that you're not! That you don't know about Perdy Chapman, or any of the sabotage the BPD plays," you demand.
"I know about the sabotage. I don't know about Perdy Chapman, but if you know something," he recites your name, "you have to tell us. I can't do anything or help anyone if everyone's keeping secrets."
"What? So this is all a loyalty test? An attempt to get me to come back? There's no way he's that desperate."
"Come back? You worked for Antonio Marin?" Bruce pipes up, concerned blue eyes turning on you as he shifts his gaze between you and Dick. Hands still up in surrender, he takes a step towards you.
"Quit fucking with me! If this is because he thinks I'll rat, I won't! I'm not a fucking rat. We got out, we left! We don't owe him anything!"
"If you know where he is you need to tell us," Jason voices his concern, also taking a step closer. "No one is taking you back, no one is gonna hurt you. I'll be damned before that happens." Jason whispers your name, garnering your attention as he gives you a serious look, "If you think he's after you, we need to know. We can't help you if we don't know what's going on."
With a stomp and a slash of the knife by your side as you realize they're right, you won't do this without a stipulation. "Fine! But... I can't go to the cops. I can't... file a report. I can't do anything. Promise me-" you respond, voice starting off confident until his falls short of a whisper. Jason nods, starting to close the space as he pulls out the last chair remaining at the dinner table.
"No cops, you got it. Just... tell us what happened, what's going on," Jason concedes, hand settled on the back of the chair.
As you shake your head in decline toward the chair, Jason easily swivels it around and sits on his backward, attention on you. As you place the knife on the side table by the front door, you start to pace. "I... don't know where to start," you voice your thoughts.
"From the beginning," Dick encourages, voice gentle as he realizes Jason has made progress by building a rapport. Something he hadn't realized he could be making more of an effort towards, he supposes. Even if he already feels like he's done more than he can for the girl.
As the Detective sits on the back of the couch and Bruce leans against the wall, your eyes can't help but find his... your Father's. "I... I can't-" you realize. Steps coming to a halt, you find yourself face to face with the last person in your life who you feel like you can't lose. The only person you need to impress, to suck up to.
"This is important," Bruce says your name, head tilting further downward as he offers a more straight-on look with your height differences, not to mention the sympathetic look that cross his features.
Eyes falling to the floor, you shake your head. "I can't. I don't want you to look at me differently, and I know you will. There's no way you can't." It's a warning, a vague divulgence on the subject matter. There's no way this conversation can happen without someone's impression being changed or shifted. It's just not possible.
"That won't happen," Bruce reassures.
"There's no way it can't happen. You don't know!" You argue, hands gesticulating the emphasis of your seriousness.
"This is your safety we're talking about," Jason reminds.
"We all have pasts," Dick reiterates your name, "we've all done things. It won't change anything."
"I promise," Bruce adds on, following up with Dick's words. Crouching to be on your level, he holds out his pinky, and while part of you hesitates, the seriousness in his eyes begs for a piece of trust. An inkling of hope, sincerity, vulnerability, trust. Wrapping your much smaller pinky around his, you shake on it.
As he lets go and returns to leaning against the wall, they all sit in anticipation, waiting for you to speak. "From the beginning?" You question.
"From the beginning," Dick echoes again, trying his hardest to be patient. With a tacit gesture of his hand, he guides you to sit on the couch cushions. Despite his offer, you choose to sit on the floor in front of the couch, back leant up against it as Dick chooses to sit in the armchair to the left of it. Jason comes closer, perching himself on the edge of the tv stand, while Bruce lingers by the back of the couch to your right, still in your periphery.
"It... all started about, I don't know, two years ago?" Jason nods in encouragement, a sign for you to keep going. "I don't- I don't know exactly when, I can't really place a time or say because I didn't know- I didn't- I never thought- I mean," the words tumble from your lips as your thoughts begin to race with the memories. Heart beating faster, there was never a definitive point in time you could place. "He just... started coming over. After-" swallowing the thick lump that forms in your throat, the faint burning sensation of tears threatening to start welling up becomes real. "-Mom got laid off."
"Mhm," Dick hums, hands clasping in his lap as he expresses the fact that he's listening.
"Everyone knew who he was. We all do, but of course, you're nice to people you don't necessarily know. You don't wanna start any problems. I guess Mama met him one night when she was out with my Tia. He said he could get her job back, that he could help her make money again, that we wouldn't have to move, to get evicted. He'd get her job back. So he did. She didn't ask, she didn't even want her job back after everything they said and did to her, firing her just because of her skin- but... he did it anyways. He got her job back at the hospital and even got her a promotion. How? I never asked, but if you know Marin, then I guess you can imagine how."
"Then he told her she owed him," Bruce speaks up as you take a breath. His tone is definitive, certain, as if he knows. A shake of your head lets him know he's wrong.
"Of course, she went back to see him at the same bar. She thanked him, we all did... but that wasn't the end of it. He said if she ever wanted anything more, a side job, extra money, anything else, that he could give her that. That all she need do is ask." A sigh escapes your lips and you subtly shake your head again. you know you'll have to tell them. It'll get there eventually, yet there's no way of knowing how they'll react. "They became friends. I always thought he liked her, that's why he was so nice."
"But he showed his true colors, didn't he?" Jason comments, a dangerous and almost vengeful tone in his voice as he leans forward so his elbows rest on his knees. His hands curl in and out of fists as he listens.
"No... he was... just nice." Finally looking up to meet their eyes, you gauge the room. Each man has a different expression on his face, looks of curiosity, intrigue, suspicion, and anger all around. "He'd be at the parties, come over, take us out, have a drink. He became a part of the circle, at least... for a while. I think it all changed when Mama said no to him. He asked her out, and she finally understood why he'd been so nice to her. Yet, that didn't change anything. Being friends, he was still coming around. Maybe he was doing more, becoming more distant, but not much changed. He kept offering, and offering, and eventually I think she figured if she had control, and it was something he'd offer, then how could it hurt? It was only after that year and once the gifts died down that, well..."
"What?" Jason raises his eyes again to meet yours as he'd been mulling over his own thoughts for a moment, head in hands. A chuckle shakes his chest subtly as his hands shoot out in gesticulation. "You can't just say 'after that, well...' and not finish the story!"
"Come on, Jase-" Bruce gently reprimands with a look.
"It's clear there's more," Dick interrupts his Father to address you, still in the position he'd been in. Eyes intent on your figure as he waits for an answer, a scowl on his lips.
"I finally asked him if there was any way I could do something. Something small to make money; like mow someone's lawn, pet-sitting, house-sitting... things like that." Eyes falling to the pilled carpet by your sock-clad feet, you pick at the fluffy brown fabric. "I had school. My mom would hate me if she knew I asked him, but everyone else was getting money, and I figured if he was like my Uncle or Dad it's normal to ask for those things... I think." Hair falling over your shoulders, it masks your face as you rush to get the rest of the story out.
"He... had me do jobs for him. It was easy. Deliver presents, bouquets, envelopes, packages, things like that. No problem, lots of people do that, right? But I was making at least a hundred every week, if not more, and, and I didn't think about it. It was easy money! I could buy whatever I wanted, I could save, I could spoil my friends, my mom... I never thought about it until I... got curious." Words trailing off, you risk a glance up at Dick. Tucking your bangs behind your ear, his expression is immovable. He's stoic; a pickup of heartrate leaves you anxious as you haven't been able to easily read him like many of the others.
The movement of Jason's lips slowly opening garners your attention, and as his eyes widen you quickly duck your head back down again. "You were..." he tests the waters.
"So one day I decided to stay. They never opened their packages in my vicinity. Never opened the presents, envelopes, packages, or undid the bouquet. It didn't feel right. I haven't gotten many presents in my life, but I'd think if I got a big one like those, I'd open it right away... see what it is." Continuing with your story, you didn't give Jason even half a fraction of time to finish his thoughts. "So I delivered the package like normal, watched them count out the money and hand it over before I was on my way. Around the corner, I was halfway down the block when I realized I could probably wait it out, hide somewhere across the street and watch them from one of the store windows. They wouldn't notice. I could just put on my hood, if anything, and... well, then it-" eyes shifting back up to Dick, you don't look away this time, "-it happened."
"I hadn't realized it but parked on the opposite side of the road and right by me out of sight from where I'd come there were cop cars parked. Cops lined up with their guns pulled, batons and riot shields ready. I froze..." At this moment it seems like the gears in Dick's mind are finally starting to turn and place things together. "I thought I was caught, for something I only suspected, but... within seconds the cops were ushering me out of the area while the second team were busting the gang of boys I'd come from for having drugs."
"They were using you," Bruce states, an air of sympathy encased in his word choice.
"You were a mule f-" Jason affirms.
"-But that wasn't the end of it," Dick says confidently, his dark blue eyes still set on you, unmoving, a quirked brow joining his visage. "You said you're out. So if that's true then how'd that happen?" He asks, finally shifting in his seat as his head slightly tilts. It's almost as if he's testing you. "Exactly," he clarifies.
"Once I realized what was happening I ran home. I-" jaw clenching, your eyebrows furrow as you don't want to have to admit this. Especially not when Dick looks so confident and arrogant. You know he'd seen you that day, just like you knew you'd seen him. A silent staring match follows,a few seconds, before your resolve crumbles upon the memories. "I told my mom. I was crying, and she was shocked and surprised and angry and mad and I didn't know what to do! I didn't know where to go or who to tell, and I knew she'd be mad but she said she wasn't mad at me, but at him and that it was okay because she was gonna get us out of it. We met up with Anto- with- with Marin," you correct yourself. "We demanded out, and... he let us go. He said we were free to go as long as we didn't say or do anything that went against him. MY mom didn't want us involved with him anymore."
"He just 'let you go'?" Dick reiterates.
"Yes. That's it," you reveal, a shrug following as you don't bother to make eye contact. "Now you know!" The revelation leaves you upset and unaware of anyone else's responses. You just know that this changes everything, now that they know... they know that you're a bad person. You dealt drugs. You worked for a mobster. A gangster, a criminal; you stocked up drug money, saving it, keeping it. Blood money, one could even claim in earnest... and you couldn't argue with them.
~~~~~~~~
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jasmines-library · 4 months
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Anonymous said:
Live for your writing <3 I’ve read the batfam and I am quite literally obsessed
Could I ask for a piece about the batboys comforting batsis reader because she had/is having a panic attack? thank you so much!!! :D
Fight or Flight
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Note: Hello lovely anon! I'm so glad you like my writing. You absolutely can, I hope you enjoy. Also I’m so sorry but I lost the original ask as my tumblr was acting up and I forgot to add tags the first time.
Warnings: Panic attacks, hurt/comfort kinda.
Word Count: 1k (short but sweet)
⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤
You had been feeling off all week. Not only was it Gotham’s busiest time of the year, which meant that you were constantly on your feet, but you also had a bunch of unfinished assignments to catch up on that were wearing you out. You had stupidly agreed to help Cass finish her assignments on top of your own and the load was becoming overbearing. On top of that, you didn’t have the heart to tell her that you couldn’t do them, which completely added to your stress level as it now meant you had to find the time to finish all of the paperwork.
You were still feeling overwhelmed as you suited up for patrol. You were out with your four brothers and you knew that the night would be busy. Gotham always was this time of year. The five of you had already stopped a few petty crimes and were making your way through the city. The silence that fell over the five of you allowed your mind to wander and you quickly became worked up over your increasingly large to-do-list and you began to hyperventilate. You just wanted to leave, but you knew you couldn’t. Conflicted, your heart began to beat faster and faster and your breathing got shallow and shallower like someone was cutting off your supply and-
You felt like you couldn’t breathe. Your chest was rising and falling in quick, sharp breaths as you tried to take in air that refused to come. Ridden with panic your body was completely tense as you fell behind your brothers, stopping in your tracks to clutch as your constricting chest. Trying to blink away the flood of tears that just fell heavier, you leaned against the wall. This only made you panic more as you knew that you needed to keep going with the patrol.
Dick had noticed that you had fallen behind. His trained ears noticed the absence of your light and smaller paced steps that contrasted against his and his brothers. He slowed his pace as he glanced behind him to try and spot you. The vigilantes eyes widened when he saw you clutching your chest and leaning desperately against the wall and for a heart-wrenching moment he thought that you had been injured. Turning on his heel he sprinted back toward you alerting your brothers who all followed quickly after seeing the cause of Dick’s sudden change in demeanour.
When they reached you, after what felt like too long but was actually only a matter of seconds covered by long strides, Tim was quick to search you for injury only to come back looking confused with his eyebrows turned down when he found you seemingly unscathed.
“What’s the matter, kid?” He asked frantically “Are you hurt?”
You shook your head and tried to give him an answer but all that came out was a ragged sob as you continued to clutch at your chest. Your heart pounded in your chest as you shook, surrounded by your brothers, and suddenly Damian clocked what was happening.
“She’s having a panic attack.”
You nodded somewhat recognisably as your brother's high alert switched off somewhat. Jason took your hands gently, moving them away from your suit that you were clutching and held them gently in his. He then eased you to the floor and crouched in front of you.
“Hey, Y/N/N. Look at me. You’re okay.”
The sound of his gentle voice and the feeling of his leather gloves in your hand grounded you somewhat and you managed to get your eyes to stop looking around sporadically and to focus on him.
“Good. Now deep breaths.” He moved your hand so that it rested over his chest to allow you to feel his steady rhythm.
“In and out, Little Wing. Follow Hood.” Dick added. He was still hovering over you anxiously as Jason tried to calm you down.
As you followed your brother's breathing, you found yours gradually slowing until it somewhat was back to normal.
Damian made his way over and sat down beside you to offer you some comfort. You were feeling slightly dizzy, and noticing he signalled for Dick to grab you some water from his pack. Damian took your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You’re okay, sis.”
You sniffled, wiping away the last of your onslaught of tears. “Sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for, Little Wing.” Tim told you. “It happens to the best of us.”
“Really?”
“Oh yeah.” Dick added. “I’ve totally freaked out during a mission before. We all have. In fact, just last week Damian-”
“Tt. We don’t need to talk about that.” Damian chided, rolling his eyes.
There was a moment of tender silence as you regained your composure before Jason asked:
“You wanna talk about it?”
You shrugged at them, bringing your knees to your chest. “I don’t really know what happened… I guess I’ve just had a bad feeling about tonight and I’ve been so stressed about all of my assignments I still need to write up. I guess it just all caught up to me at the wrong time.”
“Oh kid. I’m sorry none of us have been around to help. We’ve been so caught up in our own stuff that we’ve failed to notice that you might need help too.” Dick told you.
“How about we get you home so you can relax? Hm?”
“But…what about patrol?” You asked, voice raising an octave as you began to panic a little again “We can’t just miss it!”
“Bruce will understand.” Tim reassured you.
“And we’ll help you finish your assignments.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.” You protested.
“We’re your brothers, kiddo. It’s what we’re here for.”
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Bruce: I raised five perfectly functional children
Y/N: *tearing up* You have five other children we don’t know about?!
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dead-sane-stuff · 9 months
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Just Batfam tingz pt 2 ft: batsis. Or bro 🤷
Jason: I dont wanna talk about it
Dick: You sure? I'm a pretty good listener
Jason: Then why didn't you hear me say I don't wanna talk about it
Source: Young Sheldon
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*On a mission*
Tim : if this works then this will be the best day of my entire life
Y/n : damn, your life must really suck.
Source : regular show
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Bruce: Wait you all read (Y/n)'s diary?
Tim : Yeah
Jason: Uh huh
Damian: *Tsk*, what I can stomach
Dick: Oh I just skim through it, to make sure they're not on drugs.
Bruce: W-What does it say?
Dick: It's says "I am not on drugs"
Source: Bob's burgers
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Bruce : (Y/n) sometimes life is hard
Y/n : Bruce sometimes you're a piece of shit.
Source: trailer park boys
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*Red Hood on the News *
Red hood: Yep it was tough, but I can't take all the credit I had a little help from two others.
*Nightwing and (Y/n) in the background*: 😀
Red hood: from my left gun and my right gun 🥰
*Nightwing and (Y/n) in the background*: 😑
Source: bob's burgers
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Little Daredevil (Batfam X Blind!Batsis!Reader) *PLATONIC
Characters: Batfam X Blind!Batsis!Reader
Universe: DC, Batman
Warnings: Death of parents, mention of injury resulting in blindness (vague) Mention of fighting and blood.
Request: Hi could you write a fic where the reader is pretty much like a younger Matt Murdock and is also a vigilante (Daredevil pretty much) but gets adopted by Bruce Wayne (was a vigilante before getting adopted) and she hides it from the bat family and they are trying to find out who the new vigilante is and then something happens where she has to fight without the mask and they’re surprised that she can fight so well because she’s blind and then she like proves herself by fighting one of the batboys and winning and then they let her join them on patrol and stuff with like fluff at the end? Sorry if this is really long and specific.
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When you’re born and raised in Gotham, no matter your position in this world, there are rules that are silently implanted into you at an early age, purely to stay alive. Find a group, family or not, that you can trust and rely on. Be cautious of people you don’t know, especially those in power, or more power than you. Keep your cards close to your chest, and last but definitely not least, don’t let your weaknesses be easy knowledge. A lot of people found it easy to follow these laws, though a lot of people also adapted in a selfish, cruel way, making the life of everyone else in Gotham even harder, making a vicious cycle. You weren’t like that. You weren’t able to be like that, even if you wanted to be, and it was all because of your blindness.
You hadn’t been born blind, your loss of sight was the result of an accident when you were younger, the accident also rendering you an orphan, placing you in one of the many orphanages in Gotham. Despite this, you deemed yourself lucky- you weren’t dead, and you’d gotten placed in one of the few actually genuinely good homes, that had avoided corruption, though it rendered it low on funds and low on staff, and due to that, you didn’t receive much care or support in your process of understanding and adjusting to your disability. So you had to adapt by yourself. Teach yourself. And you did. 
You had honestly surprised yourself by how well you had done. It took months of training your mind and other senses, developing an acute awareness of your surroundings that at times felt stronger than when you were able to see, though for a while you just presumed it was because you had developed a comfort and confidence in your capabilities, until one day when you were walking home from school, and heard someone far away whispering, describing someone. “Yeah that’s the one, the one with tan skin and dark hair and green eyes.” The voice muttered. You paused in your steps, wondering why you could hear them talking. They were coming from your left, but that was where the street was, and you could hear cars passing, and you could tell the cars were closer than the person. You didn’t know who they were talking about, that was, until they spoke again, this time being another person. 
“Yeah, that’s Wayne’s kid. Imagine the ransom we’d get for the little brat.” The whispered, and then you heard a new sound close to them. It sounded metallic, and in a way, it sounded… sharp. A knife. Your heart started pounding as you focussed on your senses as close as you could. You knew who they were talking about- Damian Wayne, a boy in your school that was the son of the billionaire. Where was he? Was he near you? As you were thinking this, you heard footsteps behind you, coming close, and brushing shoulders with you in the crowded streets. 
“S’rry.” They muttered, but you knew his voice- it was him. Damian. Their target. You automatically reacted by grabbing his arm, and he stopped, seeming to flinch at your grip. 
“Sorry. Um…” You tried to think quickly. “I’ve lost my bearings. Is there any chance you know which way to St.Elizabeth’s or where abouts I am?” You asked, though your speech was rushed and quick, clearly panicked. Damian remained quiet for a moment, before taking your wrist, and moving it to his upper arm for you to hold, and silently started walking with you. You lifted your stick, holding it close to your chest. As the crowd around you seemed to thin as you didn’t feel as compact, you leant over a little. “Um… I don’t mean to panic you, but I heard some men talking about you… don’t cross the road, okay?” You warned quietly. You felt his body shift, like he was turning his head, but he kept walking, before he stopped. You felt the dip in the path, telling you that you were on the corner of the street, waiting for a time to cross. Damian grabbed your hand again, this time moving it so you were just holding his hand, and you could feel his slowly raising pulse, and you had an idea of what he was planning to do, and then it happened. He tugged you along, and you both took off in a dash. You weren’t sure how you were able to keep up with him, especially without running into anything, anyone, or even tripping, but you did, until the boy came to a halt, and you heard a buzz, before the sound of a mechanical gate opening in front of you, before he starting tugging you along again, this time being slightly uphill. 
“Steps!” Damian warned, and you felt you start to slow in anticipation, and you took a large stride, feeling the step against the front of your shoe, and you took a little jump of faith to make it up them, and you got lucky, before you heard a door open, Damian pulling you inside before slamming the door shut behind him. 
“Damian? What’s going on? Who’s your friend?” A deep mature voice asked behind you, and a voice you knew from several news interviews. It was Bruce Wayne. You were in their manor. You never thought you’d step foot in such a fancy pants place, especially entirely on accident and just trying to do the right thing, but little did you know that now that you were in, it was going to be nearly impossible for you to leave. Why? Because the family took such a shine to you that Bruce adopted you, making this fancy pants manor, your home. 
The move did cause a slow down in you exploring your capabilities and these heightened senses you’d become aware of since you now had to learn the layout of this giant house. Even over a year later, you still got lost sometimes or bumped into something, or had one of your family grab you and divert you just in time before you bumped into something, or them. However, recently, these incidents had declined in regularity, and now you were pretty good at moving around the house, or even Gotham, unless you were distracted. You were so good that now you only carried your cane as an accessory and to not raise suspicion, though you didn’t use it at home, and you had forgotten it sometimes when going out. You were so good at using your other senses that seemed more advanced than they should be, that your hardest task now was actually acting blind… and hiding your new hobby. 
It had started not long after you had moved into your new home. You needed some time alone, and took a different, longer route home, mostly you test your abilities, and during it, you distantly heard something. A scuffle. You hadn’t hesitated to help Damian, so why would you hesitate this time? Except this time, you’d walked into an alleyway quietly, in front of you hearing two men- you could tell the voices were not coming from the same person, and focussing harder, your senses told you they were low to the ground, and one was above the other, and then the metallic smell of blood hit your nose. “Please stop- I don’t have any-” One of the men begged, before there was a sound of a thud against skin. You crept closer, gripping your cane, raising it slowly, finding depth in where the noises were coming from, before slamming the cane down, and you hit something, or someone, and the scuffling stopped. There was movement again, but the sound of a body being moved and someone getting up was heard. You were scared, before you heard a sigh of relief. “Um… thanks.” The man you heard begging, answered, telling you that you got the right person.
“No problem… let’s get out of here before he wakes up.” You said as calmly as you could, turning and making your way out the alley with the stranger, before parting ways silently, and you walked home. You couldn’t stop thinking about what you did, an incredible sense of pride in you. You saved that man. You saved someone! All by yourself! You didn’t run, you didn’t ignore it, you did something! You had more of a spine than most of the people in Gotham, and that meant more than something! That started your new ideas. There was Batman, and his Robins… maybe you could do something similar? 
You’d really developed since then. Your… little outfit was nothing more than layered black clothing with a bit of padding in the odd place, some gloves you’d modified to protect your fists but do damage to whoever you punched, though you preferred the use of one of your old canes- well it wasn’t an actual cane, it was when you were at the orphanage and they didn’t have the money to get you a proper one, so instead they took the wooden handle of a broom, removed the end and put a tennis ball on it instead. You removed the tennis ball, wrapped it in duct tape so it wouldn’t splinter, and used it to keep some distance between you and your enemies, and you’d actually gotten very good at fending off attackers with it. Lastly, to ensure that you wouldn’t be identified as the Billionaire’s blind daughter, you took one of Bruce’s many scarves and made it into a makeshift mask that covered the top half of your face, totally covering your eyes. You always tucked the stray end of the scarf into the back behind the knot you made- you learnt to do that the hard way. You’d been working extremely hard. Being on high alert when you started these nightly… patrols, seemed to boosten your senses. Sometimes it was overwhelming, hearing everything in the city at once, but you quickly learnt how to focus on the area around you, or certain sounds nearby. You learnt the sound of a gun being loaded or it’s safety being taken off, the sound of people running, and how to identify key people purely from other factors, like their voice, the sound of their footsteps and how they walked, and if you got close enough, how they smelled. And you learnt depth perception with your new sense. You were extremely accurate with your hits and dodges, rarely missing, the result usually being because they ducked themself. And you were doing it all solo. Your family had no idea about what you were doing, usually being too busy or too naive to notice. It was probably for the best- you had grown close with them for individual reasons. Tim helped you study, Jason was usually the one pulling you out of the way from a danger you couldn’t see, and Dick would step in and keep the press busy since they were sort of obsessed with you since you’d been adopted since you were ‘different’ from your other siblings, and Damian would also sometimes say something to them so he made the headlines, not you. Bruce was never thrilled about it, but he was silently happy that the entire family were protective of you and wanted to keep you safe and do their part. You were sure if they knew what you were doing, they’d collectively lose their minds. 
Another night fell onto the manor, and after a few hours of sleep, your alarm woke you up. You always excused yourself for early nights, telling your family it was sometimes hard for you to fall asleep so you gave yourself a few extra hours to settle. You got up quietly, going under your bed for your little outfit, putting it on piece by piece, before putting the scarf over your face, tightening it and securing it, before sneaking out your window. You’d found that your room was right bellow the conservatory that had a metal framework, and you had it down to a T for knowing where to step to avoid the glass, and so after scaling down, you made off into the night. 
It was strange being out in the middle of the night in Gotham, alone. While you were always on high alert, your heart always pounding, always expecting a missed step or to run into the wrong people… your mind had a full map of the city. You knew your way around it near perfectly, you knew all the shortcuts, where to avoid, where you were safe, and where to hide when you needed to catch your breath. You also knew the best places to hang out and to listen for trouble. One was on top of an apartment complex, and so you went there. You stood with your hands on the wall of the building, head tilted down as you waited for sirens, the sound of gunshots or screams… you focussed in more, listening for conversations between thugs for future plans, police radios… sometimes you heard maniacal laughter that you knew belonged to the Joker. You always stayed away. But tonight, you didn’t hear any of that. What you heard was the movement of the gravel behind you. 
You turned quickly, your self taught training going into full swing. You heard their foot slide against the ground roughly, evening their balance. It sounded heavy- probably a man, a strong man, and the positioning told you he was preparing for a fight, and when you heard a whoosh coming your way, you ducked, and you sensed the feeling of air going over your head. You grabbed above you, grabbing his arm, and you kicked into his leg while pulling him towards you, knocking him over onto the ground. He grunted as he hit the ground, confirming your suspicions.  You took a step back, preparing your wooden cane in case he decided to get back up. “Stay down.” You ordered. “You follow me here?” The most logical question would be to ask who they were- but that question showed weakness- that you didn’t know what you were up against, and so you had to bide your time, and use pointers to find his identity. It was what you usually had to do. You heard him slowly get up, and you stepped back again to give yourself more space. He wasn’t bleeding, you knew that, since you didn’t smell blood. 
“I’ve been trying to track you down for a while. You’ve gotten yourself quite the reputation.” The man answered you, and you immediately knew who it was. Batman. You’d heard his voice sometimes- usually from reporters in the short moments he’d been seen, or when giving instructions to get people to safety. You immediately felt a bit better, and slowly lowered your cane, holding it at your side. 
“Thanks. Hope it’s the good kind of reputation.” You commented. He didn’t respond this time. You heard the gravel move again, and you held your hand out, and he stopped. The sound told you that if you reached out you could poke him in the chest. “Just because I’ve stood down doesn’t mean I won’t kick your ass if you don’t give me space.” You warned. You heard him sigh. 
“Take the scarf off.” He instructed. 
“No.” You answered bluntly. 
“Would it make you feel better if I took mine off?” 
“I’m blind, you taking yours off doesn’t mean jack.” You pointed out, going to take another step back, before he grabbed your arm, pulling you towards him, and trying to lock you in his arms. You stomped down on his foot, and elbowed him in the ribs, and despite his grunts in pain, he didn’t let go, and you managed to get ahold of your makeshift mask and pull it off your face. You turned to him and tried to grab it back, but he held it up, and examined it. “Give it back!”
“This is mine.” He commented. 
“No it’s not!” You tried grabbing it again, this time able to grab it, and you tried to feel of where the knot was so you could put it back on properly, before he stopped you, now more gently grabbing your hands. You didn’t look up at him, hoping he hadn’t seen your face yet. 
“Y/N… How long have you been doing this?” He asked, but this time his voice sounded… different. A little lighter, not as gravelly, more natural… and a voice you recognised far more easily. Your adoptive father’s voice, bruise. You looked up at him. “How… Y/N, it’s not safe for you to be out here.” 
“I’m doing fine. I’m able to put up a fight against you, and I’ve managed to take a few guys down.” You excused defensively. 
“How? How are you able to do this?” He questioned. It honestly sounded rude, but you knew him, and you knew he meant it out of genuine curiosity and worry, and you knew there was no way you were making it out of this without giving him answers. 
“When I went blind… I had to train myself to use my other senses. No one else helped me. I picked up that my senses were a bit more heightened then they should be. It’s how I was able to hear those men planning to hurt Damian, when we first met. I’ve been working on them, pushing myself, seeing what I’m really capable of. I have the entire city on a map in my head, I can tell exactly where people are, giving me depth and and I can hear when people are reeling up to hit me thanks to my hearing. I can smell when people are hurt, I’m like a sniffer dog. I’m still working on how to use touch- but I’ve been doing this for a while now and I’m doing really well! I have this weird… gift with my senses, and I want to use it for good!” You explained to him.
“Still… you can’t do this alone. You can predict a gun, but you can’t predict a gun that already has it’s safety off.” He pointed out. 
“Then be my eyes! I won’t get in your way! I promise!” You begged. He huffed. “And you can’t be exactly mad about me keeping this as a secret- you’re batman! Wait, are the others- are the others Robin?” You asked. 
“Yes, yes they are…” He confirmed. “I should have known better than to expect a member of this family to have a normal hobby… alright, how good are your senses then?” Bruce asked. You put your scarf back on your head. “I’ll get you proper gear- knee and elbow pads aren’t going to do anything for-”
“Shh!” You shushed him, trying to focus on your surroundings… It was a weekend, so people were out partying, so you had to listen past that… focus in directions you knew danger usually came from… and then you heard it. “Joker’s right from here… he’s near the coast, he’s near water.” You pointed in the direction. 
“You can hear that far?” 
“Harley isn’t with him… he’s alone I think. Maybe a few goons, but they’re quieter than him.. I can hear his laughter quite easily, so I tend to stay away from his direction.” You told your adoptive dad. “I don’t expect you to bring me along for this, but can I at least start doing nights out with you and the others?” You asked. 
“Only after I get you the proper equipment and protection, then you can do patrols in pairs.” He confirmed, and you couldn’t help but do a little excited fist pump. “Just be aware that means I have to tell your brothers about this as well.” He pointed out, before you heard his cloak pick up wind, and then disappear, leaving you on the building, and you processed what he said. Oh they’re gonna lose their minds.
Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in! 
*Not my gif
TAGS:  @courtneychicken​  @graysonmalfoy​ @bellero​ @originalpottervengerlock​ @supernatural-pan​ @esoltis280​ @lady-of-lies​ @lenaswritingandstuff @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980​ @cdwmtjb8​ @caswinchester2000​ @determinedpines​ @huntheimpossible
1K notes · View notes
rainnyydaysworld · 6 months
Text
Reader: Am I going to far?
Jason: No, no, no. You went too far about 7 hours ago. Now you’re going to prison.
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Damian: Could you guys at least try to see this from my perspective?
Tim: *crouches down*
Reader: *kneels down*
Cassandra: *sits on the floor*
Damian:
Damian: I hate all of you.
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Reader, dramatically: They called me a fool.
Tim, sick of reader’s shit: They weren’t wrong.
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Reader: Why is Damian crying on the floor?
Cassandra: They took one of those 'what person are you?' quizzes.
Reader: And?
Cassandra: They got Tim.
892 notes · View notes
reality-exodus · 11 months
Text
Time is running out
Pair: bat family x reader sister
Summary:Based on an old edit I discovered. Batman gets kidnapped and his children are trying to solve the mystery of his disappearance.
Warnings: blood, injury, trauma, cursing, triggering language
Edit: credits to them creator (the picture underneath my edit) https://youtu.be/pRuMwQAIVbI
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I think I'm drowning, asphyxiated
I felt my heart skip a beat and my breath coming out shallow, I couldn't take my gaze away from the CCPD footage that was sent to the Bat-computer. Suddenly I felt like a little girl again. Watching something a child shouldn't have to witness, I felt a hand squeeze my shoulder pull me closer, I could tell it was Jason, it was too tight considering what we were seeing. He pulled me closer to him. There was silent in the cave, we were frozen, only our breath echoed.
"We have to trace it…" it was Dick's voice. "Tim Barb, do something" he exclaimed approaching Damian whose eyes were stuck on the screen as well.
I wanna break this spell that you've created, Your something beautiful, a contradiction
Bruce was laying still, many open wounds flooding with blood, we couldn't sense any movement, or see if he was breathing his suit devices that connected him to the Bat computer were destroyed as a laugh was heard in the background. It wasn't from the camera, I came to our comms… I knew that laugh, I despised that laugh… But the same time, I had so many memories of him, unfortunately good.
"Joker?" Damian asked and looked at us, his voice was shaking, I really didn't see that coming.
"Close enough, it's his creation, Jerome… this is Jerome. I would recognize his laugh anywhere…" I explained, I felt eyes on me, they knew it wasn't a pleasant subject for me, it hadn't taken me time to get over the fact that I was used by a psycho.
"How can it be Jerome, (Y/N), he died in case you do not remember…" Jason demanded looking down to me.
I wanna play the game, I want the friction
"I do not know Jason!" I exclaimed and swallowed "But this. Is. Jerome" I spoke and turned on my comm
"What the hell do you even want!" I exclaimed in the communication.
The laugh kept going without responding to my question, Barbara and Tim were typing, Tim signed to keep him laughing and talking so they could track down the signal. "What can be touched but can't be seen?" He asked me, it was his voice as I couldn't comprehend what was happening, this was a riddle I realized.
"Future, what of the future" I asked again trying to sound tremendous and firm like Batgirl would but miserably failed…
"It is a crime if attempted but not if committed" he spoke again, there was static in between, I couldn't make out an answer I was looking at Jason and Dick panicking internally. "Tik tak, clocks ticking. Ten… nine…" he started the countdown. We had no idea what would happen if he reached zero…
"Suicide!" I exclaimed out of the blue holding in my breath. The boys were staring at me, and so was I.
He laughed for a few seconds "What can be touched but can't be seen?" He asked me again and I let out a shaky breath. I was trying to ponder, think I couldn't make out a word, henstarted counting down again, and then his laugh became louder and louder.
"Now you brought this to the big bat" Jerome laughed, "Who makes it, has no need of it. Who buys it, has no use for it. Who uses it can neither see nor feel it. What is it?" He asked finally asked and I felt my eyes tear as i knew the answer. "You have about an hours before he runs out of air" there was another serious voice speaking now.
"He will bury him alive" Dick realized, I don't think either if them could tell the voice change.
"Tell where he is you son of a bitch" Jason yelled loudly, snatching the comm from my hands. The comm stopped working.
"Do we have anything?" He asked and turned at Oracle and Red Robin.
"I will have the location of the comm in some minutes" Tim informed us and I looked around breathing shallow.
"I got him killed, if the riddle was correct the second time, we would know more of Bruce's whereabouts…" I spoke in realization.
You will be the death of me
"Hey hey no, (Y/N)" Jason approached me and Dick did too.
"Yes… yes I did…" I yelled at him
"(Y/N) Don't do that;" Dick yelled while I was speaking
"He is going to suffocate to death and it's all on me" I yelled pushing him back
"Guys both shut up" Jason made an effort while all three of us were yelling at each other.
"SHUT IT " Barbarian yelled "The footage was recorded half an hour before it was sent, it wasn't a Livestream we have serious work to do." She exclaimed pulling us back to reality "Bruce is already buried based on what Valeska said" she pointed out as she looked at me.
"How can we know that he was speaking truthfully?" Damian finally spoke, his voice had eased from before.
"We don't, the tracking of the comm is being fulfilled at the moment" Tim replied and sighed
"It is not Valeska, I mean the voice is, but the last part, his voice changed… can't we like, rehear it" I asked and she put it on screen. I approached and dragged then recording of the comm to the end. "Here. Listen carefully it was the moment we were shouting" I explained and I sat down at the recording. Dick was above having his hand reassuringly on my shoulder, I was grateful for my brothers, and for Barb, and Steph.
"You are right" Barbara confirmed it and there was a notification sound. "We have coordinates, get ready and leave, I'll be having your back, sending them to you now it's in Iceberg Lounge" she informed us.
"To sum up we have Riddle and possibly Clayface…" I spoke as I approached my belt tied it around my waste as I put on the hood and then jogged to one of the motorbikes to drive as Tim did the same.
Jason cursed under his breath and sighed "I am driving, decide who is coming with" he tried to announce but none of us fell for it.
"Pick a ride Todd" I winked at him wearing my helmet, I knew he would ride with me, he had no issue with Tim but let's not get too touchy here. He was concerned about me, Jerome was a trigger for me.
"Okay plan. We need two teams, one to visit the Riddler at the narrows and one to penguin" Oracle spoke up on the comms "Red Hood Batgirl go to the Narrows, Spoiler will be expecting you there, Red Robin, Robin and Nightwing iceberg lounge, Alfred came here we are working together." She explained.
"Alright Copy Oracle" I spoke and turned over the direction and drove. Jason's hands tensed on the back of the bike. I saw it on the mirrors.
"Splitting up the communications. Red Hood, Batgirl and Spoiler you are with me" she spoke "spoiler is expecting you outside the old Thompkins infirmary" she added.
"Wooh feels good being the man of the team" Jason commented as the motorcycle roared throughout the streets of the bad-prestiged alleys.
"Out of the four of us you are the one who behaves most ladylike so…" I pointed out and braked as Spoilered sank out of the darkness on a nearby alley, her iodes suit gleaming at the street lights as well as her blonde curls.
"It's true Red Hood, you are not the man here" Steph poked him and he sighed ready to respond but he was interrupted.
"Spoiler, did you see the video?" Oracle asked.
"Positive, I also thought of Clayface, Valeska can't be alive, besides there was a voice alteration." She remarked and looked at us.
"Let's go in then" I signed and looked at the building moving in from the front door as Spoiler and Red Hood would go from the rooftop, we could use the element of surprise. It was dirty and the humidity was making the atmosphere heavy. I looked around listening to the rest saying they had eyes on me already. "Come out Nygma… I have an answer for you" I exclaimed,my voice echoed out loud returning to me. "The second riddle was heart, to be honest to break my heart, it was a smart move you know… to use him" I spoke loudly and then I heard the Riddler laugh, he appeared behind a pillar, from the dark, the light was dim, but my eyes were used to it.
"You must be the smart one, all batgirls tend to be smart huh?" He asked
"Is that a riddle too?" I asked him
"Oh we know the answer, it's that red head a few years ago." He stated and I rolled my eyes.
"Where is he?" I asked if I didn't know whom I was referring to at that point.
"That's the point of the riddle , Batgirl, you are supposed to solve both of them. Where is Batman buried, and how is Jerome still alive?" He spoke up and sighed. "Must be hurtful to listen to the voice of your beloved after so long … he was asking of you Batgirl…"
I was aware that he was bluffing, that most likely Jerome was still dead, and he was imitated by Clayface, the situation with Jerome almost spilled out of my identity, I felt cold sweat on my forehead. "Oh what to do, if he has anything to tell me he can just as well come and tell me, now back to Batman. Where is he?" I asked him and maintained my cool, I could hear Barbara commenting my heart rate that was speeding up
"Buried" Riddle simply spoke
"Where? isn't there a riddle or something?" I asked tensing, I was negotiating and I had to keep my cool.
I won't let you bury it
"Please you know I wouldn't tell you" he laughed. "At least you will have to earn it"
"How" I asked
"Getting passed the obstacles" he simply said and signed me to look upwards as a bucket of clay fell on me I gasped trying to unstick myself away from the substance I could hear voice through and outside the comms as I was suffocating for a drop of air soon I felt electricity run through me. Spoiler and Red Hood attempted with their teasers to get me out, it was successful.
I won't let you smother it
I breathed out air as the clay melted around me, I was breathing heavily and sighed looking around me seeing the dissolved clay slowly moving again into a mass to form Clayface who laughed.
"Are you okay?" Red Hood asked me and pulled me on my feet, and I nodded
"Is this an obstacle Nygma?" I asked loudly and ready to charge at him.
"You are smart, the obstacles will lead you to your bat and if you are lucky enough he will be alive" he laughed and winked at us and I flinched at the words charging at him instead of Clayface. But one hand got me pulled to a wall the same happened to the rest, I stayed calm this time and threw a cryo bomb while the rest reacted in a similar way trying to break free from the grip of the mutant. I fell on my knees dodging another incoming clay tentacle rolling behind a pillar as i started setting another round of electrocution, I had no visual in Spoiler and Red Hood and how they were doing, I could hear grunts and moans of pain…
"Clear the way!" I exclaimed and got on the battlefield again and aimed at the mass of clay, I saw both of them dodge out of the way as I shot the electrocution cable to him and gave him a shock. It lasted a while as the mutant started melting, there were sparks flying around as I felt the teaser burn in my grip realizing how I was overusing it. Before I decided to set it aside it blew in my grip. I fell backwards, my ears were ringing…there was a blur. I was on my back trying to assess the damage of my body, I breathed and closed my eyes trying to calm down, once I opened them I saw a figure standing above, a gun aiming at me.
I won't let you murder it
Before I could react there was another shot, Red Hood. "Don't you dare to touch her" he yelled as he jumped and spin kicked Nygma in the face, I rolled over and stood up grasping his collar. "Now tell us where Batman is?" I exclaimed loudly and he laughed. Red Hood punched him roughly.
"Where the fun begins you shall find information of his whereabouts" Riddler spoke "But if I stop breathing so does he" he told us and I let him fall to the ground and looked at Spoiler and Red Hood.
"Amusement mile" Oracle spoke up, solving it for us. "Are you guys alright?" She asked and the eyes of the rest fell on me, I looked down at my hands. They were kind of burnt but still functional.
"I am good" I smiled softly to reassure them but I got serious once I heard the location, my gaze turned to the other two, none of us had nice memories from there as I skipped a heart beat and sighed.
"Nightwing, Red Robin, Robin will find you there… everything will be alright." Oracle tried to assure us.
"What did Penguin say to the others?" Spoiler asked changing the subject as we started moving to the vehicle.
"Penguin said that he doesn't know anything he only aided and funded Riddler's idea, he said that many were recruited for this and that it wasn't only for batman, he wants us all down…" she said as we heard a beep meaning that the lines were all connected again
"We are walking straight into a trap" Tim spoke, I heard his sigh.
"We could ask for help" I suggested.
"Negative, i have already requested assistance but the league hasn't responded, I can't track down the Kents or The arrows or anyone… " she added.
"Kids,Master Wayne wouldn't want you to risk your lives on a hunt that may be resultless." Alfred spoke making my heart ache as I heard those words leaving his mouth.
"No!" Damian exclaimed
"I agree with the demon spawn" Stephanie commented "He has done so much for us"
"Risked his life for ours countless times, I know that you Red and Nightwing, you are the most hurt from this… this situation, from him… I do not know where you stand, but I am with them"I added and sighed, I was the third eldest of them and I would protect the kids if Jason and Dick backed down.
"Are you kidding me?" Dick asked through comms.
"You are an idiot Batgirl has anyone mentioned that to you?" Jason asked and sighed heavily looking at me. I couldn't see his expression but I knew he was staring at me with a raised eyebrow.
"No, actually on the contrary I am usually the smart one, and the eldest when I have to cover for you two. I am serious." I explained.
"Well right now you don't have to cover for us." Red Hood spoke and rode the bike as I signed him to ride the bike.
"Of course, whatever it has been done, he saved us too you know, helped us and saved more times than all of you combined… so we won't let him be murdered" Dick spoke up as I rode behind him while Stephanie went on her own. She would go roof to roof.
I took a deep breath. It would be the longest night of our lives, I simply hugged Jason from behind placing my cheek on his leather jacket. I was scared and my brother could tell, I felt him exhale. He remained silent. Jason wasn't the one to tell me a lie just to comfort me.
A/N: I would appreciate your opinion in the comments. Would you like me to continue, it was meant to be a lot shorter but it kind of started good. Thank you for reading <3
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tsuvvy · 4 months
Text
A Memorable Christmas
Pairing: Platonic Damian Wayne x youngest adopted sibling reader
Summary: Damian helps to make your first Christmas at Wayne Manor special. Even if that means waking you up at 12 am on Christmas day to give you an early present
Warnings: None
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"Hey.." You groaned, swatting lazily at the sound of the voice trying to pull you out of your sleep. "Y/n." You peeled your eyes open begrudgingly, tiredly pushing your head up. Your sight was blurry, but you could make out Damian, who was sitting on the edge of your bed next to you.
"Hm..." You hummed. It took a little out of you to move your body to be positioned to look at him a bit better. But you closed your eyes again, having every intention of going back to sleep.
"Come on.." His voice was gentle, and so was his touch when he placed a hand on your shoulder. You hummed again, but in retaliation as you lazily tried to swat him away again.
"Tired..." You whined.
"I know, but I promise you can go right back to bed after this." Damian promised. He grabbed your hand, gently coercing you out of your bed.
You yawned as Damian helped you out of bed. Your gaze shifted to the clock you were given when moving into the manor. It read '12:01 a.m.'
"It's so late..." You muttered out a half whine. You closed your hand around Damian's as he led you out of your room.
He apologized, "I know, I apologize for waking you up so late." He led you down the stairs, going at your tired pace.
"Why are we up so late, Dami?" You asked with a yawn. Damian sat you on the couch, heading towards the Christmas tree in the room. It was decorated with an assortment of lights, colors, presents, and ornaments. He grabbed a meticulously wrapped present with a bow on top.
"It is your first Christmas," He said as he looked at the gift, making sure it was the right one. He stood up, turning back to you, who was petting Titus. He had been laid on the couch. Titus had moved his head into your lap. "We must commemorate it specially." He sat next to you on the couch, handing you the gift. You took the gift into your hands, inspecting it.
You yawned, leaning back into the couch. Titus raised his head, letting you place the gift in your lap. Your tired gaze zeroed in on the wrapped box.
"What am I supposed to do with this?" You looked at Damian for a moment.
"You rip the paper off of the box and reveal the present inside," he explained to you. You stared at him for a moment before looking down at the present once more.
You flipped the box around, "Does it matter where I rip the paper?"
"No, it does not."
"Okay..." You muttered, your voice trailing off. You found a spot that you deemed worthy to rip from and shimmied your fingers underneath the paper before you began ripping it. "Is it normal to get gifts early?" You asked as you ripped.
"Not usually, but it is officially Christmas, and it's your first one," he told you as he watched you look around at the bland and boring brown box. "So I thought I should give you an early gift to make today one to remember." You glanced at him. You didn't know Damian could be so... Sweet.
"Thank you.." You spoke softly as you opened the box. You moved the flaps out of the way, looking inside.
Inside the box was a stuffed animal. The colors were black, white, and variations of grays. It had wings coming out of its sides and big ears.
"What.. Is it.." You spoke slowly and unsurely as you took it out of the box and looked at it.
"It is a stuffed animal," he answered, "it's a bat." You sat in silence, your gaze finally going towards him. "I apologize if you don't like it, I wasn't quite sure what to get.."
"No, no!" You abruptly spoke up, still trying to keep some level of quiet so you didn’t wake anyone else up, "I love it..." Your voice trailed off as you looked back at the gift.
Before Damian could say anything, you had lurched into him. You threw your arms around his neck for a hug. The action surprised both of you. Neither of you expected you to react like that.
"Thank you, Dames.." You spoke quietly. The new nickname flying off your tongue.
Damian was taken aback by your reaction. He didn't expect such an affection from you. You still shyed away from Dick's hugs and Jason's head pats.
Damian didn’t hold back the soft smile. He hugged you back, his embrace warm around you.
If one thing's for sure, he definitely helped to make your first Christmas memorable.
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Bonus
"Oh..." Dick froze at the sight on the couch. "Tim!" He called in a whisper yell, looking up the stairs at the boy.
"What?" Tim yawned, rubbing his eyes as he came down the stairs with Cassandra next to him.
Dick pointed towards the couch. Both Tim and Cass peeked over the backrest of it.
On the couch, you and Damian were laid asleep on the couch. You were leaning into Damian's side, your arms wrapped around the stuffed animal gifted to you from him. Damian's arm was around your shoulder as the two of you slept peacefully with Titus' laying in between the both of your legs with his head resting on your stomach.
"Glad to see Damian can care," Bruce spoke up from behind the group, a cup of coffee in hand and Alfred at his side.
"I must say it is a breath of fresh air to see Master Damian be so kind with them," Alfred spoke up as well.
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