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#Batman X Batmom
bia-wayne-west · 2 months
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Milk with cookies and bedtime stories [Batmom x Damian Wayne]
Synopsis: It was just a few months ago that Damian was included in the Wayne family. He still didn’t like you, but you tried so hard to make him appreciate you. During a patrol, Damian got hurt and after Alfred took care of the little boy’s wounds, you surprised him with a plate of cookies and a glass of milk.
Characters: Damian Wayne and Reader [YOU]
A/N: I wrote this quickly. Hope you like. In this imagine, Batmom has been married to Bruce since he adopted Dick.
I want to apologize if there are any writing errors. I'm a Brazilian girl and I don't speak fluent English, so I may make some writing mistakes. Feel free to correct me.
I hope you read, like and feel how cute Damian is.
Requests are open
MASTERLIST
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You were sitting on the kitchen stool, reading a fashion magazine while you waited for your husband to return from patrol.
Bruce forbade you to stay in the Batcave, as he was afraid that someone would break in and find you, alone and unprotected.
As soon as you felt the ground shake, it meant that the Batcave had opened and that Batman had arrived with his Robin, Red Robin, Red Hood and Nightwing.
You ran to the clock that gave access to the secret entrance to Batcave. The elevator quickly took you to where your children and husband were.
“Hey, my love. You got back before 5am!” You said, running up to Bruce Wayne. He still wore black clothes and was without a mask. Your husband didn’t respond. He was serious and had a worried expression on his face.
“A man dropped Damian from a three-story building .” Bruce said looking at the boy who was sitting next to Alfred.
You finally noticed Damian, whose face was bruised and his leg was bandaged. You walked over to the boy and knelt in front of him.
“I’m fine, Y/N. I fell on top of a car and didn’t break any bones.”
“Damian, darling, are you hurt?” You asked, looking into Bruce’s son’s green eyes.
You smiled, in a motherly way. Damian didn’t consider you a mother, unlike the other three boys who called you ‘mother’ and ‘mommy’ all the time. Your husband’s son only considered you as a stepmother, but that didn’t stop you from taking care of him as if he were your son.
“I’m going to run you a hot bubble bath. After Alfred takes care of you, I think you’ll want to relax in the warm water.”
“Thank you, Y/N, but I’m not your baby.” He said rolling his eyes and turning his face to look at Alfred.
“Damian!” Bruce warned his son. But you smiled at your husband, showing that everything was okay. You left the Batcave, heading back to the mansion to prepare Dami’s bath.
(…)
Damian was already in his room. You were heading to the boy's room, with a tray in your hand.
The clock said 2:32 am, but you were sure the boy hadn't slept yet. The Waynes used to sleep only when the sun came up.
Yout left hand knocked lightly on the wooden door with the boy's initials engraved on it. Ypur ears picked up a “you can come in”, authorizing you to enter Damian’s room.
“I came to see if you were okay, Dami.” You said, entering and closing the door behind your body. Your arms came off the tray on the bed, seeing that the boy was sitting on the mattress. “I brought milk and cookies, this will definitely make you feel better.”
“Why do you do these things, Y/N?” He asked, with a questioning look.
“I didn't understand. Don't you like what I do for you?”
“At first I thought you had a plan to win me over and then you would hate me for being Bruce's biological son.” He said, seeing you take a cookie and offer it to him.
“I would never do that. I love you, Dami, even if you don't like me. These things I do for you are normal motherly actions.”
“My mother didn’t do any of that. She only got cookies when she did something good.” He said, his eyes shining like he was going to cry.
“Oh baby. I know you don't consider me your mother and I don't want to force you into anything, but I want you to know that these things I do are because I love you.” You explained, smiling widely at him and drinking some milk. “Do you know what my mother did for me when I was hurt?”
“No.” He said, while devouring several cookies. “She also gave you cookies and milk?”
“Yes, and she also told me a bedtime story.” You argued, running your hand through the boy's hair. “I'll tell you a story.”
“I’m not four years old, Y/N” He murmured.
“Damian, you’re not old enough to hear a good story before bed.”
“OK. Just don't tell stories about princesses or ponies.”
“Clear. I'm going to tell the story of a boy called Dami. He was so brave and beautiful, he was a strong and fearless boy.” His lips formed a smile as he said the words. Damian's eyes were bright and sweet. “One day, he went to the forest to play with the birds and found a portal to a magical world.”
“Like Narnia?: He asked, completely interested in your story.
“Yes, but without the closet. The magical portal led to a kingdom full of witches, fairies, vampires and any magical creature you can imagine.”
“Even elves?” He questioned you again. Now Damian was lying in bed and you covered him with the blanket.
“Of course, elves can't be missed.” You said. Your heart filled with love and you almost cried when you saw the image of the boy who hated you six months ago totally interested in a bedtime story. “In that kingdom there was a crystal that served as oxygen for all beings there, but a terrible villain broke this crystal and stole its essence, leaving the world without magic.” Damian still had complete fun with your narration. “Then, the queen called Martha went and asked the brave Dami to hunt down the villain and recover the essence of the crystal.”
“And he did this?”
“Yes! Dami took a sword and shield and went out to the magical kingdom in search of the villain. He went to an ancient village in the kingdom called Gothym and met three knights named Grayson, Todd and Drake. They sent Dami to the mountains where he would find the villain.”
“And he found it?”
“He found it, but it was difficult. The villain was hiding in a ruined castle north of Gothym. Dami fought bravely with the villain and defeated him. Dami recovered the essentials of the crystal and in exchange, Queen Martha gave him a personal portal to return to the kingdom as often as he wanted. Dami was a brave hero and defeated the evil villain.” You told the story while running your hand affectionately through the boy's hair. “Did you like the story?”
“Yes, it was the best story anyone told me.”
“I'm glad you liked it, my love. If you want, I can tell you a story every night.”
“Todd would make fun of me if he knew.” He said, looking at you so intently that you knew he was embarrassed for having liked the story.
“I'm gonna tell you a secret. I told Dick, Jason and Tim stories for three years, but they didn't want to.”
“Did you tell Todd bedtime stories?” He asked loudly, as if it were some blasphemy.
“Of course, and he loved them all.”
“So I want to hear stories before bed.”
“I'll love telling you, along with a glass of milk and cookies. Good evening, Dami.” You said getting up from the bed. Your lips found the boy's forehead.
“Good night, mom.” He said, making you look surprised at him. “I can call you mom? Since Dick, Jason, and Tim call you Mom, I thought you might as well.”
“Of course, my dear. You can call me mother and I will call you my son.” Your arms wrapped around the body of the boy, your son. Love seemed to explode in your heart. “Good evening, my dear son.”
“Good nigh, mom.”
You gave Damian one last kiss on his forehead, before picking up the tray and taking it to the kitchen. After washing the dishes, you went to the master suite, the room shared between you and Bruce.
Your husband was lying on the king size bed, waiting for you. After showering and putting on your pajama, you laid down on the bed.
“Damian called me mom.” You said to Bruce, earning a smile from him.
“With bedtime stories, milk and cookies.”
“How did this happen?” He asked, setting aside the iPad he was using to hug you.
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reveluving · 4 months
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see you soon ; jason todd x batmom reader (ft bruce wayne)
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includes: jason's beloved dubbed 'princesa' (can read it as her and/or jason being latina/latino or spanish being jason's 1st/2nd language!) & tooth-rotting fluff!
a/n: combining @xoxokirby's jason todd x princesa with my batmom AU in this quick, cute thought because I just love talking about them together 💗
check out my batmom m.list <3
"Alright, so here's the hot chocolate," You carefully passed Jason the heavy double-cup holder, "And in here is your Philly cheesesteak, some soups and your girl's panini sandwich. And I threw in some brownie pudding in there since we had extra. Make sure you don't heat it up beyond forty-five seconds. You're lucky you texted me just as dinner rush started."
While waiting for Jason to come and pick up the orders he had requested you just hours ago, you closed down the necessary so you could head home with Bruce straight away once he finishes his work in the office. Not once had Jason stopped offering on taking you back to the manor first before heading back to his girlfriend at his apartment, but you insisted otherwise.
And how could he say no to his mother?
"Yeah, that's on me," Your son smiled sheepishly, holding the bags of food and drinks with ease, "Y'sure we don't gotta pay up?"
"What makes you think I'm making my own kids pay for food at my café all of a sudden?" You rested your hands on your hips, brows raised as if he had asked the dumbest question ever.
"'m just askin', y'don't have to be so mad. Sheesh," He shrugged, only to dodge your playful smack with a laugh, "Kiddin', kiddin'."
But the big smile on his face remained.
A lot of things make him smile, be it from you, his siblings, Bruce at times or his beloved, but he just couldn't help replaying how you considered his girl one of 'your kids', as if, like him, you just knew she was the one.
"Be sure to tell her about the family dinner that we're having in two weeks." You reminded him, slipping on your gloves before turning off most of the lights. It would be her first dinner with the Waynes, and you wanted nothing more than to have her as a part of your family’s cheesy traditions.
"I will," He nodded, and just as you wondered about the extra joy he was radiating, he hugged you with one arm—the one that was holding the bag of food, "Thanks, ma."
"Oh, Jay," You chuckled, returning the hug with a few pats in his back, "I'm just looking out for my kids."
Just then, you and Jason heard the sound of engine approaching, and lo and behold, the familiar black Aston Martin came into view.
"That's our cue. C'mon," You playfully pushed him from the back, drawing a worried 'ma!', afraid he might drop the food. You just responded to his pout with a cheeky smile before exiting the café, with him waiting for you to lock the door. Winter came in early in Gotham, and the citizens took the opportunity to decorate the city in ways that seemed so... familial.
You opened the passenger door, "Hey." You lit up as Bruce leaned in, his warm lips tickled your cold cheek.
"Sorry I'm late. Tried to finish up some of the last reports before the holidays."
You reassured him, shaking your head as you did, "You're not, I promise. Plus, Jay waited with me."
Bruce looked over at your door, where Jason stood, "Thanks, Jason. Head home safely and don't forget about the dinner, alright?"
"I won't," He nodded curtly as he walked backwards, heading to the alley where he parked his bike, "I'll text y'when I reach home."
"Say hi to princesa for us!" You grinned, waving as you watched your son disappear into the back of the store. You closed the door, turning to Bruce and officially greeting him with a quick but nonetheless sweet kiss, "Hi, you."
"Hi yourself," He sighed in content, leaning in for another kiss as he held the steering wheel, "Shall we?"
"Of course." You replied, and just as your seatbelt clicked into place, Jason drove past you, but not before waving at you and Bruce as he did.
With the end of the year around the corner, you were tired, and so was Bruce. Jason was no different and he didn't doubt that his girl was beat, too.
But it was impossible to suppress the smiles on your faces, knowing that none of you will end the day by your lonesome.
Just a hot drink in hand, a comfy bed to cuddle up in, and your other half to hold onto.
˚ · . f i n . · ˚
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kimberly-spirits13 · 8 months
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Dating Bruce Wayne/ Batman (More)
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The only person besides Alfred and later his kids that he lets in his personal space
He sometimes struggles setting boundaries with touch but you know his queues and he is more vocal about them when he’s comfortable with you
It’ll be along the lines of “I need more space” or maybe that he’s "not comfortable anymore"
He wants to be by you all the time though
Up in the front of the Justice league jet is where you two sit together
You are the two navigators because you work so well and he feels less stressed when you’re the one working by him
He wants all engulfing hugs please
Rests his head in the crook of your neck
He’s basically like a cat and just wants attention and sleep all the time
If you want, he’ll go shopping for galas with you
Has good opinions on fashion
"The train on that one is nice, but the color washes you out"
He likes to pick you up from work if he can
Opens and closes the car doors for you even as Batman
✨manners✨
Carries his mother’s ring around with him for the right moment
It’s either his mother’s ring or a custom made ring because not all people want to give their dead mother’s ring away
also not everyone wants their dead mother in law's ring
He’s not super jealous but he gets a bit protective if not touchy when you’re getting extra attention from someone
Only if it’s flirty attention though
Like when you come to the tower and Hal is flirting with you he’ll suddenly be right next to you, making the batglare
He likes to read in his library and go first edition book hunting
If you match the same level of excitement about things that he has, he’ll melt
He’ll eventually get comfortable enough that he’s alright asking questions to you
If he forgets or doesn’t want to research, he’ll just ask you
Probably not with others around though
He’s a serious guy but he’s a sucker for inside jokes
He thinks about them at the worst time too
“Mr. Wayne this PR emergency is no laughing matter-“ *tries to be serious but can’t*
He’ll pull you into a closet in the tower or an empty room just to reset or ya know 🙃
Lord knows that he can't cook much but the things that he can, he's really good at
I say he can grill just about anything but please don't make him bake bread
has a vast bourbon collection but mostly because he dad collected vintage bottles
doesn't really pop them open but for special events and late evenings
is a clean freak and he wants to scrub everything off after every patrol and every day
is the kind of guy to shower like 3 times a day and wouldn't mind if you joined him at least once
if you ask him to hold your drink even if you're not dating, he'll near kill anyone that seems untrustworthy near him with the drink
covers the drink with both hands and won't release his grip but to give you your drink back
walks on the side of the sidewalk closest to the road
when you have a new outfit, he'll spin you around to see and admire you
likes the names of "darling, sweetheart, babe, and my darling"
pinky promises kind of guy
"I'll be done with this report in an hour and then we can go somewhere to eat." "Pinky promise?" "Pinky promise."
Because in Bruce's words, you can't break a pinky promise
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kaiyaamin · 3 months
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Can I request any headcanon or Oneshot of Batmom calling the Batfamily by their names? Batmom always calls them nicknames (sweetie, babybird or somenthing), so the Battys think she's upset.
Sorry if it's written wrong or it is not understood!! My main language is not English 😓😓
sure I would love to.
NICKNAMES
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Early in the morning, Batmom lies there in her bed staring at the wall. At 6 in the morning, no one was awake except for the infamous Batman sitting next to her.
Honey, what's wrong why are you up? To Bruce, it was very unusual to see her up early for she had a habit of sleeping till 10 in the morning.
Nothing Bruce, and Batmom stood up from her bed and left to the bathroom.
SHIT, SHIT! what did I do?
that's all he could think because she NEVER called him Bruce unless she was upset at him. He thinks of all the things he had done the latest skipping a gala and lying to her about an emergency when he was really hanging out with Superman and Wonderwomen.
Batmom came out of the bathroom and left towards the kitchen. There Tim sat at the table with a huge cup of coffee in his hand. He expected a hi or hello but nothing just an awkward silence.
Hey Mom, but she grunted and said hi Tim.
OH MY GOSH, Tim was in complete panic, forgetting about his coffee. She always calls me Timmy, Fuck what did he do?
Finally, Dick comes and sees Tim in complete panic. What's wrong with you?
All Tim does is point. To Dick's shock, he points at his mother. Dick thought nothing of it and greeted his mom and gave her a hug like every morning. But to his surprise, His mom didn't greet him back nor return the hug.
Mama, are you okay? I am fine Dick
What where's my nickname. Dick looks at Tim and Tim just looks completely horrified. He sees his mom leave and goes back upstairs.
Alright, Tim fess up what did you do? said dick. Me this could have been easily you, Maybe Mom found out about you breaking her very expensive vase, Tim said defending himself. well, it's not like you are innocent, Mom probably found out that you're the one who's been finishing all her expensive French coffee, Dick said as a comeback.
Alright Dickhead, why is mom so angry? Jason comes walking behind him, I have no clue she's been acting strange all morning AND SHE DIDN'T CALL ME BY MY NICKNAME, Dick says wiping his tears.
jason says, huh same, she usually calls me Baby Bird but she just stood there staring at me. Maybe, Jason, she found out how you snook out to patrol even though you are grounded, Tim says. Jason says in response, probably... WAIT how did you know about that Tim. I Know everything... you have cameras around the house don't you Tim, Dick said. Maybe, Idk Tim said with an evil grin.
Okay, guys come on let's go upstairs and apologize to whatever we did, Dick said. Fine Dickh, Jason said but was interrupted... AHHHHHHHHH
what the hell! I think my eardrum exploded, said Tim
come on guys, someone could be in trouble, Dick said. Okay, dickhead calm down, Jason says.
Damian what's wrong, Ummi said Damian instead of Dami. What did you idiots do this time?
Hold on demon spawn we didn't do anything let's ask Dad, Tim suggested.
Dad, what's happening with mom? Dick says
I don't know Dick your mother has been acting weird since this morning and she even woke up early like 6 in the morning early. [GASP], Bruce answers.
Damn, what the hell did we do? Damian says.
shut up demon spawn, I am trying to think, Jason continues.
Hi kids... MOM/UMMI!!, Batmom says out of nowhere.
Kids, I am very disappointed in you, Batmom continues
But mom we don't even know what we did wrong, dick said, and collectively everyone said yeah.
Sweethearts, why is there a FUCKING COW on my lawn, Batmom yelled out.
OHHHHHHHH, yeah Mom we all decided to get a cow, Dick answered truthfully. Shhhhh dickhead don't get me involved, Jason says slapping Dick behind his head
well, I am so glad you told me what happened, so here you go, Batmom says while handing everyone a paper.
What's this Honey? bruce said while taking the paper in his hand
well, that's the list of chores and you all are grounded for a month!!! Batmom said yelling.
WAIT, DOES THAT MEAN I AM GROUNDED FOR TWO MONTHS STRAIGHT, Jason shouted in fear.
No, Babybird, you all are grounded for two more months since you all exposed yourself when trying to figure out why I was upset with you guys, Batmom said with her hands on her hips.
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!, Jason shouted.
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ynscrazylife · 5 months
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THE BAT IN THE SHADOWS 🦇🕸️
— CHAPTER ONE
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Summary: Bruce Wayne is the happiest he’s ever been in a while. He has a beautiful wife, amazing children, and is stopping crime left and right as Batman. All that shatters when you, his wife, mysteriously disappears.
Pairings: Bruce Wayne x Wife!Reader, Batfamily x Batmom!Reader
Series Masterlist
They came for you when you least expected it.
That’s how it always goes, right?
You were on your way home from Gotham’s Police Station, where you worked as one of the best detectives. You were already running late, as you so often did when you were deep into cases, and you weren’t paying much attention to your surroundings. You knew this city like the back of your hand, even when it was dark out, you could probably navigate home with your eyes closed.
You grabbed your phone from your pocket, wanting to update your husband that you’d be home soon. You already told him that you’d be a little late but you knew how he worried, and how he hated when you tended to push yourself at work with an abundance of cases.
Just as you began to type out a message, a sudden bolt of electricity hit you square in your back. You could hardly form a thought before your muscles locked, body tensing and seizing up, and you collapsed onto the ground, going limp.
Your phone shattered to the floor, the screen cracking as it met the pavement — just like your forehead, blood spilling as you banged your head.
A foot came smashing down on the phone, rendering it completely useless.
“Should we grab the phone? We don’t want anyone to know she’s gone.”
“She built a life for herself here. They’ll know either way, but they won’t get her back.”
Two pairs of arms hauled you up from the ground, dragging you back, legs and feet roughly hitting the sidewalk over and over again. Your wedding ring slips off your finger, falling onto the ground.
“Tell Dreykov we’ve got her. She’s coming home.”
One of the agents pushed a button on their belt. It began blinking and, wish a flash, the three of them — one unconscious — disappeared into thin air.
No one was around to see. It was a rather quiet night.
//
Bruce couldn’t help but be a bit disappointed when you still hadn’t shown up. Usually you’d text him if you were going to have a late night at the office, but you’d gotten to a habit of forgetting to send it over the past few weeks, too engrossed in whatever case was on your desk. Bruce already didn’t think that staying so light and pushing yourself was good for you, the forgotten texts made his stomach twist even more.
“Alfred, you haven’t heard from Y/N, have you?” Bruce asked, already knowing the answer.
His butler fixed him with a regretful, pitying look. He’d heard this question many a time before. “No, Sir. Perhaps one of the children has?” Alfred suggested. They both knew that if you hadn’t texted Bruce, you hadn’t texted anyone else.
Still, Alfred followed his boss into the main living room, where the kids were lounging. “Have any of you talked to your mother?” Bruce asked.
He received shakes of heads and murmurs of no.
Bruce sighed, sinking into his eloquent armchair, gaze resting on the clock as its hands ticked by. It was getting late, even for your standards. Should he be worried? You always scolded Bruce for being too overprotective, but still . . .
“Dad, look!”
Bruce snaps his head to see his son, Damien, standing over at the window. He joins him and the rest of the family crowds around, only to gasp in horror.
There, in the sky, is the unmistakable bat light. But not the usual one. No, this one is red. When the two of you got married, Bruce had a small device inserted into your bands. It would be able to detect a hard fall and, upon doing so, would display that light if you were ever in danger.
Bruce’s heart began pounding.
“Stay here. Alfred is in charge,” he instructed. Even though the kids were worried for their mother and wanted to go out with Bruce, no one dared go against him.
Within minutes, Bruce was suited up and hopping on his motorcycle. The Batmobile was too flashy for this time of night and he had no time to worry about making it invisible. Bruce sped off, not caring how cold or loud the air was was. He raced towards that light, expertly driving down the streets.
Coming to a sharp stop, Bruce sprinted towards where he could see the glint of the band. He looked around widely — the street was barren.
It was only when he got close that he noticed your shattered phone on the ground. This damage couldn’t have been done from a simple drop.
Bruce felt sick. Physically sick.
Something had happened to you. Something bad. There was no ransom, no villain threatening him. He always thought he’d know what to do if anyone he ever loved was endangered, but you had been taken from him.
There was never enough preparation for that.
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blackcupidangel · 2 months
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Batboys as Tiktoks:
Batmom and her kids
Oh Batmom do not play when it comes to her kids. Speak of her children and she will appear🧏🏾‍♀️. They know their mother’s call.
I love to see Batmom as Neytiri as it comes to how protective she is of her family especially her children.
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k4marina · 2 months
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bruce wayne x fem!reader || smau
pt. 3 of this
pt. 1 || pt. 2 ||
a little bit rushed since i made it all in one night. but since the last to parts are doing well, why not right?
lmk any ideas you might have for the next part
it’s been awhile since you or bruce have posted so your fans decide to look back on some of your memorable moments.
——
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brucewayne posted a story 3hrs ago
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[caption; 🫀: ]
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Note
Okay so I Have a Bruce Wayne/Batman request! It’s okay if you can’t do it, but Bruce Wayne X Reader (Mr and Mrs Wayne) and She’s a doctor at a hospital in Gotham, and she sees him come with something wrong after an incident and she helps him? You can take the story however you want but I thought it would be a cute story haha
Taking a Tumble
Bruce Wayne x wife!reader
Bruce has an accident at home and now has to face his wife at work.
Warnings: broken bones, humiliation, Alfred needed a good laugh, fluff
WC: 1k
A/N: The aftermath of this comic
Minors DNI
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“What did you do this time?” Her voice was even stern, just laced with a tired disappointment. Bruce’s entire face was red with embarrassment as his blue eyes dropped to the floor. He felt like one of their many children being scolded for doing something stupid, which of course is why he was in this situation, but still, it wasn’t a good feeling.
“I didn’t do anything.” But the lack of eye contact told her otherwise. Alfred stood beside the white hospital bed, tears running down his face from laughter, his body still trembling with silent chuckles that were barely contained by the fist in his mouth. Y/N’s gaze flitted to the older man and raised an eyebrow.
“M-master Bruce had a tumble.” He choked out before dissolving into a fresh round of laughter. Bruce’s face flushed an even deeper red. 
Marrying Bruce came with a boat load of risks, including him getting mortally wounded during his nightly escapades. So what luck was it that his childhood friend, and now wife, had gone to medical school and was now one of the leading doctors in Gotham General Hospital. He always wore his injuries with a certain pride, knowing he was sacrificing his body for a greater good. 
But this time, he refused to look down at his bandaged left leg and instead was glaring at his father-figure. Y/N knew that look, he was trying to communicate with the butler not to tell her what had happened, it was the same look he used on their kids when they were about to reveal a surprise or a shameful secret. “Bruce doesn’t just ‘tumble’.” She said with air quotes, tucking her tablet under her soft arm so she could fold them over her heavy chest.
“But I did.” He whined. Alfred spluttered and coughed. He bent over, wheezing as he attempted to catch his breath as he shoved his phone into her hands. He was still giggling to himself as he stumbled from the room. They watched him go, Bruce’s expression one of disdain while his wife’s was one of curiosity.
A paused video took up the phone’s screen. Based on the still image, it was the home security camera by the main stairs in their home. “Do you have anything to say before I play this video?” She asked. “I won’t be mad.” Bruce hated that she was using the same tone with him that she used with the kids, but he also found it strangely comforting.
“I was proving a point to myself.” He huffed and sat back against the pitiful hospital pillows. Y/N smiled softly at the man, thinking to herself. ‘God I love his, dumbass.’ Then she played the video.
She watched as the man she had chosen to spend her life with, the father of her children, the love of her life, rode down the length of the grand hallway on his old skateboard from when they were teenagers and did a perfect kickflip and dismount the board. Then, the great Batman, tripped over his own feet and rolled down the staircase. That’s when the video ended.
The room was silent for a moment before Y/N howled with laughter, her head thrown back and clutching her plump stomach. Bruce’s lips turned up in a grin at his wife’s happiness before they fell into a petulant frown. “It’s not that funny.” That made her laugh even harder and she had to put her hand down on his bed to steady herself.
“What were you thinking, my love?” She said between gasps.
He threw his arms in the air. “I told you! To prove a point!”
“And what point was that?” Her laughs were tampering off into the occasional giggle, her eyes, that Bruce loved so much, still sparkled with mirth. She reached to take his large hand in her own but he pulled it away before she could, pouting.
“That I’ve still got it.”
“Oh my Brucie.” She cooed, cupping his square jaw and delicately rubbing his high cheekbones with her thumbs. “You never lost it my love. In fact.” She leaned closer to him so her lips rested against his ear. “I’d say you’ve only gotten better with age~” 
Taking his ear lobe between her teeth, she pulled on it just enough to send a shiver down the billionaire’s spine. As she pulled away, she caught his eye, they were dark with lust and love. His hands slid up her scrubs to come to rest on her wide hips, giving them a tight squeeze. Evidently, he seemed to like that answer.
Their lips met in a kiss that was all too brief for his taste before she pulled away, wiping a smear of her lip gloss from his mouth. “Now my love, I need you to stay off that foot for a while and rest up. That means no patrol.” She stated firmly, ignoring his truly adorable puppy dog eyes. “I’m not putting you on complete bed rest because we all know how that went last time.”
He had attempted several escape attempts from bedrest before and had only succeeded in giving his wife the most atrocious tension headaches of her life. “I’ll need some incentive.” His voice dropped an octave, becoming gravely and rough, almost a growl. His warm palms traveled lower down her body to the junction of her pelvis and plump thighs, the tips of his long fingers digging into the soft flesh of her ass.
Y/N purred and leaned into his touch, still mindful that she was at work. “I’m sure I can provide you with that.” The kiss was longer this time, their lips locked together with an ease that only came from years of knowing the other’s body and soul. She stepped back with one last peck to the tip of his sharp nose. “I’ll go grab your discharge papers so you can go home. I’ll see you after my shift.”
He sighed sadly but nodded anyway. “Ok, I guess I’ll just be home, alone in our big bed, all by myself.”
“You aren’t guilting me into leaving work early. At least one of us has to have a real job.” Y/N pried his fingers from her body and picked up her tablet again, leaving Alfred’s phone on the side table. “Oh and don’t forget to delete that footage, you know what the kids could do with that kind of blackmail material.”
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morgansunflower · 1 year
Text
Slammed Doors
Bruce Wayne X Wife! Reader
Warnings:suggestive content, explicit language and angst
Words:1311
Arthur's notes! Third P. O. V
Requested taglist:@too-strong-to-lose
Losing her would end him. He couldn't even look at her thinking each time how close she was gone.
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"what the hell were you thinking Bruce?! Again for the third time this month!" she shouted at him losing her temper.
"I did not see the urgency of a fragment of my night to be so important" he coldly said pissing his wife off more.
"look in the damn mirror! You insisted me to stay on bench for weeks after I had a little stab!"
"that is an entirely different situation!" he defended "it nearly hit your main arteries! You're blind to think otherwise!"
"different?! You're driving me insane! Bullet number one your flank, the next your arm and the third your chest. You had a minor concussion! The only reason I know is because Alfred told me after expressing that he thought you told me.. Just a dammed text or call would've been helpful or dammit Bruce send someone to tell me. Don't tell Alfred not to worry with informing me... " she takes a deep breath forcing tears back "it's bad enough that you won't even hardly look at me" she mumbled
His heart cried while his anger overcomes his feelings of remorse. "you're so damn stubborn! We are not discussing this any further!"
"oh so that's it?! You get hurt and it's nothing" He walks away from her to the bat-mobile. "we are still talking about this Bruce!" he gets in putting his cowl on "if you drive away don't expect to sleep with me tonight or any other night!" she threatened with a cry.
"fine with me" he scoffed with a, grunt and then shuts the door.
The tires skid as he leaves. Y/N kicked the ground pissed. Early in the morning. She couldn't sleep last night, Bruce didn't even bother trying to sleep. She had stayed in the gust room unable to be around Bruce after their fight. She sits on the chair in the dining room. She hears Bruce hitting his fork on his plate abruptly. She couldn't make herself look at him. They had grown distant and cold over the last few weeks. The fight was the last straw to send them into turmoil with each other. It hadn't been this bad since he lied to her about Grayson's death. They had grown busy with their lives, patrol and work. Everything seemed to pulling them apart.
"is everything alright amongst you both?" Alfred asked bringing Mrs Wayne her coffee.
"were fine Alfred" Bruce said with a angered grunt.
Fine?! She needed to get away from him. She raises from her chair. She walked away and slammed the door to her current bedroom. She hears the door to Bruce's study slam shut. That's when she feels a tear roll down her face.
"Mommmmmy.. Are you ok?" Stephanie asked through the door
"things seem pretty heated between you and B" Jay said
"can we do anything for you?" Duke offered
"talk to us Ma" Tim pleaded
She takes a shaky breath and then clears her throat. "I'm ok my loves don't worry"
That night she laid in the guest room. She sighed heavily she hated absolutely hated fighting with him. She can't sleep.. She keeps thinking about Bruce and her fighting. She hears her window door opening. She sighs heavily, she really didn't want him to see her like this.
"I don't want to see you right now B"
"mother?" Damian softly said.
"hey mom, you ok?" Grayson asked right by his little brother. He turns to shut the window.
She sit upward turning the lamp on "oh hi Damian, hi Grayson. I'm sorry boys.. I didn't know it was you. I'm ok"
"what happened between you and Father?" Damian asked entering the room.
"seems like it was a pretty bad fight" Grayson sympathized, he knew from when he was Robin. If Mom was sleeping in a different bed things were really bad.
"oh.. It's, ok. We're just... Just.. Not happy with each other right now" she sighed defeated.
"is it something I did?" Damian asked
"oh no! No.. It's just.. It's going to be OK son" she assured him.
Damian laid beside her and rest his head on her shoulder. Grayson stands by the bed and lays the covers on them. He holds her hand to comfort her. It was so hard to hide how she's feeling. Especially to her older children.
"I gotta go drag Babs into bed or she'll be up for too long again, sleep well mom. Night Dami, night Ma" Grayson kindly said
"thanks son" she mumbled
It'd now been 5 miserable days. Bruce sighed looking at the wedding photo that was on his desk. He had to fix this before there was too much distance between the two of them. His heart was heavy as he craved to be near Y/N. He walked to the room she had been staying in. He didn't see her and her purse was gone. There was a box of Crackers on her nightstand. He smelled vomit? Why would she be going out if she is sick? He stepped into the bathroom. The room was clean. He looked in the medicine cabinet to make sure she was taking proper medication. Bruce nearly gasps from shock. He holds the special vitamins. He softly smiled. That night he told the children that their room was strictly off limits. He prepared their room for a elegant evening. Alfred helped of course. Bruce laid freshly made platter on the bed. He had their wine glasses placed on the platter and the bottle in the bucket of ice. Just as he was finished, he hears Y/N stepping to the room. He opens the door taking her hand and gently pulls her in the room. She was startled and then completely surprised.
"Bruce.. You--I.. I can't believe" she nearly burst into tears.
"I want to be a better husband to you" he pleaded kissing her temple.
He guides his wife to the bed. Her face was full of emotional joy. He adjusted the pillows for her. He holds her hand as she sits down. Bruce moved to sit on the other side of the bed. He takes a wine bottle and he moved to pour it into her glass. Her heart raced. She has to tell him.
"I think I may just have water...."
"really? This is your favorite flavor" he shows her the bottle label. Non-alcoholic f/f wine.
She smiled softly "but, don't you want?.. "
He pours the wine in both glasses "I could use a break"
"you know! I can't believe you know! I promise you that I was going to tell you"
"I know" he softly smiled
Bruce reaches his hand out to hold her face, he softly smiled she looks so beautiful so full of love, he wants to embrace her "29 days ago you were almost killed. You weren't br-breathing, your heart stopped.. Y/N" he sighed letting out a deep breath as he couldn't fight how truly terrible he felt "20 days ago on a cold night in Paris we had outstanding sex" he smirks kissing her knuckles, to which she softly laughed at his words. He rubs her temple tenderly "that night... I was terrified that the closer you stood by me.. The more danger you were in. I was wrong" she began to cry, he kisses her forehead "I was angry and... I was scared. I took it out on you, forgive me?" he holds both of her hands
"Bruce" she kisses his lips covering his heart in warmth of security "please.. Don't... Don't ever push me away again"
He reaches embracing her, the moment caused his breath to be stolen. She was still here. She still forgave him.
"I will never ever do this to you again. I will try my hardest to be the one you deserve... Are you hungry?"
She laughed with tears hugging him tightly "you have no idea"
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Text
AristoBats Au
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《Au Where The Batfam is just the Aristocats.》
In this Au, The AristoBats are hybrids of cats and humans. Instead of the butler being the villain. It's Harley and Joker that turned the batfamily into cats and to take the members of the wealthy Wayne family for ransom. But instead, lose the Batfam accidentally in the city.
While Bruce and his liter explore Gotham, trying to find their way back to the manor. The older Wayne meets you, a simple human with a sweet heart. Allowing him and his kittens to stay in your small abode
You didn't have much but were content with your life, realizing all you needed was your friends from upstairs and music to keep your blood pumping.
You tell the cats that you were inviting your neighbors from upstairs to your home. But realized the cats were now human with animal features.
Fearful of this, you asked what was happened. So Bruce explained to you calmly as family tried to ease your worries.
The batfam thanked you for their hospitality, telling you that your kindness wouldn't be forgotten.
As they were about to leave, your neighbors rushed into the scene, musical instruments playing loudly and singing along to their melodies.
The Bats decided to stay just a little longer..
When Bruce and the batkids turn back to normal. The Wayne CEO asks you to marry him.
You say yes.
[Happy April fools everyone!]
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apocalypse-shuffle · 1 year
Text
BATMAN | BATFAMILY (assorted canon)
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“Long Overdue” (Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)
| Reader was with Bruce in the past but grew distant after Jason’s death. No one tells her when he comes back from the dead until Bruce is forced to bring her in on an ambush when they’re overwhelmed.
-Jason and Batmom!Reader reunion.
| SFW, canon typical action, cursing, past death of a child, Reader & Bruce are divorced, -angry!reader
| This is like half fanon half UTRH/Batman:Hush. I’m really just fucking around with canon rn. Also the pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (pic source: Batman - Three Jokers comic)
| 1k+ words
| parts: one, spurt, two, three, four, five, six/six point five, seven.
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Bruce clears his throat for the third time in ten minutes.
In contrast you roll your eyes for the third time in just as long before bending over to switch on the A/C. The Batmobile got stale whenever Bruce started binging. The vehicle not smelling like old blood and sweat stopped being important once your ex husband neglected his duties as Bruce Wayne.
Once upon a time that negligence would have worried you. Still does even if you vehemently tamp it down.
Another clearing of his throat.
“Spit it out already.” You hold your arm tighter to your chest at a bump in the road as you watch him, bullet wound treated rudimentarily enough to hold you over until you get to the cave but still adding to the scent of blood.
Bruce isn't a meta-human; he still emoted even if he did it in such small increments that the untrained eye wouldn’t catch on. You were far from untrained though; you’ve been speaking Bruce almost as long as Alfred has and so you see the twist of fearangersorrow that flashes across his face.
The same damn twist of fearangersorrow from the last days of you and Bruce’s relationship. This time around your stomach doesn’t drop and your body doesn’t flare, mirroring those same emotions. You don’t answer Bruce's natural pull at all in fact, only sigh as you do your best to keep your arm from jarring.
“I didn’t come here to fight. Say what you want.”
Not that you expected to get much leeway on that front. Asking Bruce to communicate without a million half truths was like asking a baby to scrape the paint off thirty feet walls. It could be done technically, it would just take a lot of patience and outside assistance.
His hands tighten on the steering wheel, gloves creaking, before he works through the motions of forcing himself to relax.
“You’re not going to like it.”
“Bruce, when's the last time I liked anything that came out your mouth?”
“You were on a video call with Dick and you laughed when I was complaining about that mite infestation in the cave.”
Of course he would remember that, living filing system that he was.
“Yeah, I was laughing at you,” you clarify with a tiny snort and Bruce gives you his faint smile.
“I know,” he says voice gone soft. You have to clench your eyes shut against the onslaught of emotions that tone elicits. How long has it been since you’ve heard it? “I'm…sorry.”
You don’t think he’s talking about the joke.
“Bruce-”
“I know,” he repeats before pausing. You recognize the active way he’s composing himself and something in you can’t help but to shrivel up. What could be so bad that he's acting nearly as off as when he had to explain how Joker killed your son to you?
Your heart pumps faster in your chest like it wants to run away from the impending news, and you have to open your mouth so that your breaths don’t begin to stutter. No more, not after Jason, you can’t take another death.
In an attempt to avoid the nearing collision of your anger and worry at Bruce gearing up to drop yet another bomb on you and straight up verbally expressing he’s sorry about it beforehand - which what the hell? - you run through what you know.
He could just be acting funny about a shared account you forgot to separate. That’s always a possibility. You focus on keeping your breathing level.
You’d seen Dick and heard from Babs tonight, talked to Dick on how to not burn down his house whilst cooking just three afternoons ago and he’d mentioned Alfred doing fine then. Hopefully that still rings true. The newest Robin that’d been dragged out of a collapsing building last week would still be recovering and no one had mentioned Timothy adding to his injuries so it likely wasn’t him that had Bruce like this, and you haven’t heard anything negative or otherwise about Batgirl.
Even this new Red Hood guy didn’t seem to be much of a problem outside of you not knowing who the hell he is and him being all up in your business earlier. You’d take a lot of shit over the dysfunctionality of you and Bruce’s relationship, but not from a stranger. Besides, you weren’t omniscient - that was more Alfred’s deal - so you weren’t exactly the best gauge on the greater intentions of the city’s newest crime boss. You made a habit of not looking too closely at Gotham’s vigilante scene if you could help it.
Joker did go by that once though, right before his metamorphic dip in a vat of acid green, but you knew it wasn’t the clown under that helmet. For one, Joker didn’t fight with Hood’s brute strength and honed finesse and secondly you knew for a fact the green haired bastard was in Arkham right now. Alive and well.
Your hands clench at the reminder.
“You let him live!”
“We are not executioners, Y/n!”
“Uh uh. Absolutely not, that’s where you’ve got me fucked up.” You take a deep breath before gesturing towards the expanse of Gotham. “When you choose over and over for this man to live you are explicitly signing everyone else’s death sentences, and how you don’t see that is beyond me.”
The way Bruce shakes his head is almost reflexive.
“We always stop him before he can do anything like that.”
“Oh really? Always? Because I got a son six feet under that says otherwise, and last time I checked so do you.”
Bruce twitches. “We don’t trade lives.”
You stare at him, your frustration a harsh nearly livable thing at that moment. The memory of him throwing you off the Joker, of the screaming match afterwards, makes your tongue taste like ash.
“Sure we do,” you murmur. “You just won’t see it that way.”
“We. Don’t. Stoop. To their level, Nightfall,” he accentuates gruffly and just as suddenly as it came your anger rushes away with the next gust of wind that lashes at your face.
An argument on methodology is not what you came here for. You're furious about The Joker, you have no doubt you always will be, but that fury isn’t what drove you to hunting Bruce down on a random rooftop. Joker isn’t what got you back in your suit on this night. Bruce is.
Bruce Batman who’s clearly getting ready to turn this into a thing again.
“Bruce. Bruce stop it.”
You look at him. Really look at him for the first time in weeks and something just…clicks. Bruce and you have been standing at a precipice this whole time. This was it. How Bruce handled Jay’s death was either going to make or break you. And if Dick going virtually no contact had been the trial run the continual state of your marriage wasn’t looking too good. No more kids to patch up the cracks. No more looking away from new cracks formed.
Your mask gets pulled off a second later.
“My baby is dead, Bruce. We had to bury our mangled son today and you want to go out and be Batman when Bruce Wayne is needed at home. I don’t want to argue philosophies, I want you to leave the cape at the door and be here for me as my husband.”
Problem was that Bruce hadn’t been able to do both, and by the end of that interaction you’d punched him for it. Punched him for your son too. One failed attempt and all of a sudden he couldn’t kill Jason’s killer or let you do it for the both of you. No, he’d cracked down instead. It would be inexcusable and he’d clash with you the whole way.
You can admit to yourself that you gave up because you didn’t want to be faced with the possibility of Bruce throwing you in jail over the Joker. He’d stopped you from wiping him from the earth three times at that point, who’s to say he wouldn’t have eventually caved and gotten you committed?
Bruce couldn’t balance being the husband to a grieving wife and being the grieving father of a murdered son. Couldn’t handle being Bruce Wayne when The Batman was so much simpler; easier to hide behind than confronting everything. So he retreated.
In a way you understood, the death of a child wasn’t something you walked away from at all in some cases and it certainly changed you in every situation, but you were supposed to have been able to deal with that blow together.
Bruce’s voice, tight and broad, less Bruce and more Bat once more, brings you out of your head.
“A few weeks ago the Red Hood made his presence known after an undisclosed amount of time hiding below the radar in Gotham with a duffel bag full of severed heads.”
You hum lightly having already known this. Dick got chatty when he was stressed.
“A few days after that Red Hood and I got in an altercation wherein he unmasked and gave me his blood and fingerprints. Both that I then tested…”
Behind your mask you squint, breath rushing out of you as another possibility you hadn’t dared to let yourself think comes to mind. Grief’s most dangerous wish. You start shaking your head. It's a useless attempt to not let the pieces come together.
“The results matched that of Jason Todd’s,” there’s a moment of brief wrenching stillness before he adds quieter, as if his veneer of control has suddenly been punched out of him. “Our Jason….”
…TBC
NOTES: Hope you enjoyed! Comments would be appreciated if you wanted to leave one! I read all of them, I only don’t respond cause this is a side blog.
P.S.: It’s gonna come off like I hate Bruce in the later chapters (only sometimes irl) so yeah. Apparently I’m just getting out some general Bruce frustrations with this, so fair warning. This is not a happy ending for his ass.
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One Bad Day....Jason's Death
AI-Less Whumptober 2023: 8. Panic Attack, 12. Character Death, 23. Begging, 31. Crying, Alt. 13. Grief Fandom: Batman, Batfam, Batmom, Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd Summary: Before Red Hood rescued her, before she was in prison, before she killed The Joker, Batmom experiences one of the most devastating losses of her life. Word Count: 5587 TW: Canon Character Death, Mentions of Torture, Brief Description of Injuries, Grief, Breakdown, Tears, Anger, Character Picks Up Reader Note: This is part of the One Bad Day.... series but can be read as a one-shot (though best to be read after Part 3)Part of @ailesswhumptober's whumptober event.
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It has been three days since you have heard from either Bruce or Jason and you are starting to get worried. Actually, you are way past worried—you are terrified. Something is wrong, you can feel it in your gut. A gnawing queasiness deep in your stomach that has you unable to eat or sleep while you wait for some sort of news.
Usually, you wouldn’t give this radio silence a second thought. While Bruce tries to send some sort of word as often as he can while out of town, it just isn’t always possible. Especially when he is away on this kind of work. Batman is a force of secrets and mystery. He can’t always risk finding a way to call his wife to tell her he is alright. 
You pull the blanket that is draped over your shoulders tighter around you and continue pacing. Alfred had placed it there a few ago, the last time he had come to check on you. When you had first begun to worry, the butler had remained by your side providing constant reassurance and support. But after a while, once it became clear you wanted to be alone, he retreated upstairs. Occasionally, he returned to the Batcave to bring you some food, water, or something to keep you warm, but otherwise, he had been keeping his distance. However, you know the second you call for him, he will instantly be there to get you whatever he possibly can. If only he could get you the one thing you truly wanted right now….
As if summoned by your silent wish, you suddenly hear the distant roar of a familiar engine growing louder by the second. Whirling around, a huge smile of relief on your face, you turn just in time to see the Batmobile burst into the cave and come to a stop in its usual spot. For the first time in days, you feel like you can breathe again as the driver-side door opens up and you catch a glimpse of Bruce, still in his Batman costume though he has removed his cowl and gloves.
Throwing your arms open wide as you approach the car, you exclaim, “There’s my boys!” Bruce doesn’t look at you as he climbs out of the Batmobile and walks slowly over to the passenger side. “I was just about to send out a search party. How was Ethiopia? Did you find–”
You stumble to a halt, your smile slipping from your face. An icy vice clamps down on your heart as you see Bruce lift something out of the Batmobile: a small limp figure wrapped in a torn yellow cape that reveals small glimpses of the red suit underneath through the holes and tears. Though the cape is also draped across the person’s face, you know immediately who is under it.
“No….” you gasp as your blanket slips from your shoulders to pool at your feet. “No, no, Bruce, no. Please, no.” 
As you wait for Bruce’s response, you cling to that last fragile shred of hope that it’s not what you think, that maybe he’s just hurt under there or sleeping or…or…….
But as your husband silently walks past you and lays the body on one of the nearby tables, the drawn, pained expression on his face coupled with the tender care he takes carefully arranging it is the final confirmation you need. 
Dropping to your knees, you let out an almost inhuman wail as the truth of the situation slams into you like a nuclear blast. Your baby’s gone. Jason is dead. And you have lost yet another child. 
You collapse forward, your forehead pressing hard against the cold cave floor as another wail tears through your chest. No. It can’t be true. Jason has to be alive. He has to be. Oh please, God, please don’t tell me you’ve taken my baby from me. Not again. Please.
As you continue to sob—worldless howls of grief and pain—you feel Bruce drape himself over you as if trying to shield you from this agony….but it’s too late. The damage has already been done and you have been irreparably broken.
In what seems like hours later, once you have exhausted yourself to the point you no longer have the energy or tears left to cry, Bruce sits back and pulls you carefully into his lap. As you lay curled in his arms with your head resting on his chest, you can feel his heart beating beneath you—so strong and steady—and it hits you that you will never again feel Jason’s heartbeat or hear him take a breath. All of those little signs of life you take for granted are just gone…and so is he.
Lifting your head to gaze up at your husband, you force your words through your aching throat, torn raw from all your screaming, and you ask, “What happened?” 
“The Joker,” Bruce says as he brushes a tear off your cheek. “He used Jason’s birthmother to lure him in, then he placed both of them in a warehouse that was rigged to explode. I arrived just as the bomb went off. I….I was too late to save him.”
The sound of Bruce’s voice breaking and the tears in his voice sends another jolt of pain into your heart and you nuzzle your head into his neck as you squeeze his hand. He silently squeezes back and you have to stifle a groan as you feel the bones in your hand shift and crack in his grasp, but you don’t say anything. You just let him continue to squeeze your hand long after the point it turns numb. 
You haven’t seen Bruce fall apart since the two of you lost the baby. Regardless of what heartbreaks or fights had come your way in the years since, Bruce had remained calm and stoic through it all. It’s just who he was. He was your rock, your lifeline in the roughest of waters, your source of comfort when you needed it the most—so the sight of him breaking adds another layer of grief to your own.
When he finally loosens his grip and you can tell he has regained some of his composure, you whisper, “Did he…. Did he hurt him before…?”
Bruce hesitates for a moment before murmuring, “You don’t need to know the details.” 
Which means yes. The Joker had probably tortured and beaten your baby bloody before blowing him up. Another sob threatens to tear from your lips, but you manage to quell it so it is just a whine deep in your throat. You had cried enough for the moment. Right now, you need answers and to come up with a plan. But first…you need something else.
Untangling yourself from Bruce’s arms, you unsteadily get to your feet and begin walking over to the table. Bruce leaps up when he sees what you are doing and he gently grabs your shoulders blocking your path. “Don’t. Sweetheart, just…just don’t. Trust me.”
“Let me go. I need to see him.”
You try to shrug him off but he holds you firmly in place. “No. You don’t. Don’t let that be the last image you have of him—I wish it wasn’t mine. He’s gone and seeing him like that won’t bring him back. So, I’m begging you, don’t.”
“Get out of my way, Bruce,” you growl as you glare up at your husband. “I need to see our son. I need to see what that monster did to him.”
For a moment, you aren’t sure what Bruce is going to do. His eyes flit across your face, trying to find the slightest hesitation he can grasp onto. But when he doesn’t find any, he sighs and slowly lowers his hands as he bows his head and whispers, “Please…Don’t look.”
But you have already pushed past him before he finishes his sentence.
You approach the table with a determined stride, yet you hesitate once you reach it. Jason was always a slight kid, even verging on scrawny, but he had never seemed smaller or more vulnerable than as your hand hovers over the cape still draped over him. Even that first night Bruce brought him home to you, he had so much fire and spirit in his little twelve-year-old body that his presence filled the room. Now, three years later, that fire and spirit had been extinguished and it hits you all over again how young he truly was—how young he would always be.
You feel Bruce come to stand just behind you but he doesn’t say a word. He has tried his best to stop you so now all he can do is wait for you to live with your decision and be there for the aftermath. Knowing he is right there for you gives you a renewed sense of strength and as you take a deep breath, you pull back the cape to look at your son. 
Bruce was right. You shouldn’t have looked.
Some of the damage you are expecting based on what Bruce told you. Burns litter Jay’s face and neck as well as his hands. In some places, they are light, almost invisible unless the light catches them just so. However, in other spots, the burns are so severe you can almost see down to the bone. His hands are the worst, so charred and blackened that you fear touching them despite the longing in your chest to hold his hand once more in yours. Looking at the burn patterns, it seems heartbreakingly clear that Jason had tried to protect himself from the blast by throwing his hands in front of his face…he had seen it coming.
Yet as horrible as that realization is, far worse is the damage you weren’t expecting to see on your son.
Beneath the burns and debris from the bomb, Jason’s body is broken, bruised, and bloody in ways that an explosion couldn’t have caused. One arm and leg jut out at odd angles and there are dark bruises all over his face, neck, and the parts of his torso you can see through his ruined suit. One eye is swollen and black, his nose is bent sharply to one side, and his lip is split open wide. You have seen enough blunt-force trauma up close and personal to understand what had to have caused all of this. 
Casting one last longing look at your son, you turn to face Bruce. You are visibly shaking, and when you speak, your voice is dripping with venomous fury, “Where is he?”
“Clark is tracking him down and he’ll alert me the second he finds him.”
“And then?” Bruce glances away, unable to look at you. Disbelief washes over you and you step closer to your husband. “Bruce, don’t tell me you are thinking of letting him live.”
“It’s not our place to–”
“He killed our son!” you hiss as you point to the body of the child you both loved. “Jason is—Jason is dead because of that maniac! We can’t let The Joker get away with this!”
“We won’t.” Bruce takes your face between his hands and bends over so his forehead is almost touching yours. “I swear to you, we will find him and throw him back into Arkham where he belongs.”
Wrenching from his grasp in disgust, you snarl, “For how long? A few weeks? A month if we’re lucky? Then he’ll just find another way to escape like he always does and he’ll hurt more innocent people, more people we love. How can you not see that this has to end? That it should have ended years ago.”
“My heart—” Bruce tries to take your hand but once again you snatch it away from him. “I know you don’t always agree with it, but we have a code. A code you agreed to follow when you joined me. And that code means that no matter what The Joker or anyone else does, We. Don’t. Kill. Otherwise, what makes us any better than them?”
“Maybe I don’t care about being better than them anymore. We’ve done things by the book, followed your rules, and where has that left us? Two dead children and a third who barely survived being shot. And you still talk about trusting the same system that allowed it to happen in the first place. Well, who’s next, Bruce? Who will be the next victim in your moral war? Alfred? Dick?....Me? Whose death will it take for you to realize that this won’t end unless we make it end?”
Bruce stares at you as if he is looking at a stranger and not his wife of ten years. Shaking his head slightly, he says, “I understand you’re hurting right now and you’re not thinking clearly. But once some time has passed and the feelings aren’t as raw, you’ll—”
“I’ll what? Forget my son is dead?” you snap.
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
“Well, what did you mean? Give it time and things will just go back to normal? That this pain will fade and I won’t care that my son was murdered?”
“Our son.”
“What?”
“Our son,” Bruce says. His voice has a sharp edge to it that momentarily takes you aback. “You keep saying ‘my son’ like you’re the only one who lost him. I know what you and Jay had was special but that doesn’t mean I didn’t love him too, or that I’m not in agony right now. I had to watch, helplessly, as that warehouse exploded knowing I was too late to save him. Then, I dug with my bare hands for almost an hour through the wreckage praying for a miracle only to find—” Bruce presses his hand over his eye as he takes a long, slow, shaking inhale then continues “And then I had to fly home watching vigil over our son’s body, all the while dreading this moment. Knowing I was coming home to shatter the woman I love. But the only thing that made that thought bearable was knowing we could mourn together and lean on each other for comfort. Yet all you can focus on is revenge and murder!”
“No, Bruce. I’m focusing on keeping the family I still have safe. I’m focusing on protecting this city just as you swore to do. I’m focusing on ending terror and chaos in the streets. And if that means one psychotic clown has to die to make that happen, then so be it.”
“We do not cross that line. Ever. No matter who we think deserves it. That’s just how things have to be.”
“Don’t you get it! Jason would still be alive if you had just—” All of your fury evaporates instantly and you inhale sharply as you realize what you were about to blurt out. Bruce’s expression hardens into a stone-cold mask usually reserved for the most lowsome of criminals and, stumbling back, you stutter, “I-I mean…I—”
“If I had what? Say it. Say it!” Now it is your turn to not meet his eye yet he pushes on. “You were going to say that if I had just killed The Joker years ago, Jason would still be alive!”
“I didn’t mean it. It just slipped out,” you whisper. “I know this isn’t your fault, Bruce. You told him not to go but I encouraged him to do what he thought he had to do. That I would support whatever decision he made.” Your voice cracks as you choke out, “I sent our baby off to his death, not you.”
It is the thought that has been nagging at the back of your head since you saw Bruce lift Jason’s body from the Batmobile. The unbearable truth you’ve been unable to face. Bruce had known something felt off about the situation and he insisted Jason stayed home. But when Jason came to you saying he had found his birthmother and needed to go see her, you put your foot down and forced Bruce to take him. If you had just listened to Bruce, if you had just really examined the facts instead of wanting to show Jason you were supportive, your son would still be alive.
Suddenly, it felt like the walls of the Batcave were closing in on you and you couldn’t catch your breath. Stumbling back a few steps, you say, “I-I can’t do this. I have to get out of here.”
The anger in Bruce’s face disappears as quickly as it appeared. He reaches out to you with a soft, “Sweetheart—” but you continue to back away.
“No. No, I need to go. I-I need to be alone.”
Bruce nods slowly. “Alright. That’s okay. Why don’t you go take a long shower and lay down and I’ll take care of things down here. I’ll come check on you when I’m done.”
You nod back and hurry over to the stairs leading up to the manor. But just as you begin to climb them, you pause and mumble, “I’ll be in Jay’s room.” then flee up the stairs before Bruce can stop you.
Once back in the manor, you move in an almost trancelike state towards the bedrooms. As you pass the kitchen, you hear a soft sniffling and you realize Alfred must have come down into the Batcave at some point and seen what happened. You have been so preoccupied with your own grief, you completely forgot about the butler who loved Jason almost as much as you and Bruce did. 
Part of you wants to go back and join him. After all, Alfred always knows how to fix anything and everything and maybe, somehow, he can fix this too. Yet as much as it pains you to admit, there are just some things even Alfred Pennyworth can’t do. So you continue walking.
When you reach Jason’s room, you don’t even pause before opening the door and shuffling in. In one fluid movement, you collapse onto your son’s bed and roll over, dragging his comforter with you until you are cocooned beneath the blanket. 
It seems impossible that just three nights ago you were sitting on this very bed with Jason next to you as he told you about how he had been tracking down his birthmother. He had been so scared to tell you for fear he would hurt your feelings. But you had just gathered him into your arms and pressed your lips into his hair as you promised him you would always be his “Ma” regardless of what happened on his search. That you would always love him….
Tears you did not think you could still cry began slipping silently down your cheeks. What would you have done differently if you had known that was the last time you would see your son? What else would you have said to make him understand how much he meant to you? How he had saved you from your grief once before and how you still needed him now?
You bury your face deeper into his pillow as you finally allow yourself to ask the question that you know will haunt you the rest of your life:
Could I have saved you if I had been there?
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For the next twelve days, little changes. The only time you leave Jason’s bed is to go to the bathroom, but otherwise, you lay curled in the center of his bed wrapped in his blankets and staring at his wall. Bruce and Alfred take turns coming to check on you several times a day, usually bringing food or drinks and trying their best to coax you into consuming something. You take a little nibble here and there or take a few sips of water, but it isn’t long before you return to your near catatonic state. 
Even when Dick arrives a few days after you learned of Jason’s death, it doesn’t make much of a difference. You do allow him to climb into the bed with you where you wrap him in a bone-crushing embrace, afraid if you let go you’ll lose him just like your other children. But eventually, he has to leave and you resume your solitary existence.
On day seven, Bruce slips into bed behind you and wraps his arms around you. For a long time, the two of you just lay there in silence. Then, softly, his lips brush against your ear as he whispers, “Please, sweetheart, please come back to me. I know you’re hurting. So am I. But I just lost Jason and I can’t….I can’t lose you too. Please, let me in. Let us help each other through this….Together.”
You know he’s right, and it kills you to know you are only adding to his heartbreak, but you just don’t have the strength or the will to be what he needs right now. So, you remain motionless in his embrace, your eyes never shifting their unseeing stare at the wall.
Eventually, Bruce accepts nothing is going to change. Pressing his lips to the nape of your neck, he whispers, “I love you. Please never forget that. And I’ll be waiting, as soon as you’re ready.” Then he slips from the bed and you are alone once more.
The next major change in your routine comes exactly two weeks after Jason’s death when Bruce and Alfred walk into Jason’s room holding a simple black dress. Silently, you allow them to put it on you before they lead you downstairs where Dick is waiting with the car. No one has to tell you where you are going. You already know.
For the short drive, Bruce sits next to you in the backseat, holding your hand tightly as he presses his lips against your temple with whispers of encouragement and love. You squeeze his hand back but make no other acknowledgment of his presence or support. You catch Dick glancing back at you in the rearview mirror a few times, concern etched on his face, and you wonder what he sees when he looks at you. That thought makes you withdraw even further into yourself in shame.
As Alfred pulls to a stop, you make no move to exit the car. Alfred and Dick both glance at Bruce for some sort of guidance as to how to proceed, and he motions for them to get out. Once you are alone, Bruce pulls you into his arms. “If I could spare you from this, you know I would. But we have to make some sort of public show or it’s going to look suspicious. And people are already asking questions. But I promise, the second we’re done, I’ll take you back up to the house. Okay?”
You nod, knowing he is right however much you despise it, and he smiles softly. Placing his finger under your chin so he can tilt your head back, Bruce kisses your forehead as he whispers, “That’s my girl.”
Then sliding his hand into yours, he opens his car door and steps out before helping you out. Immediately you are met with flashing lights and the whirring click of hundreds of cameras all pointed in your direction. You try to ignore them as Bruce leads you down the path lined with photographers and reporters, your face a blank mask void of any emotion. 
But that mask becomes harder to maintain as you hear the slight tittering of whispers passing through the crowd. And though you have over a decade of experience being the subject of Gotham’s rumor mill to get used to the kinds of things people say about you, these reach a new level of cruelty: 
“Look at the heartless whore. Can’t even spare a single tear for that poor boy Bruce so kindly took in.”
“I heard she didn’t even want to come today but Bruce insisted. Can you imagine? He deserves so much better.”
“She wasn’t even there when he died. Bruce planned a family trip overseas and she refused to go. She would rather stay here to be waited on hand and foot by that butler of theirs than spend time with her supposed family.”
“I bet she had something to do with the boy’s death. Probably didn’t want to share the Wayne fortune with anyone else. Bruce and the older boy should watch their backs. They could be next.”
You remember a time when you would have gone off on these people. Snapped back about how they didn’t know anything about you or your relationship with your family. Caused such a scene Bruce would have had to sheepishly drag you away while his face glowed bright red. But not today. Today all you want to do is curl up in a ball in front of them as you sob, asking how they can be so cruel or heartless to not see your pain or the devastation at your loss. How they could come here—here of all places—just to add to your suffering.
But you don’t. Instead, you allow Bruce to continue leading you forward until you stop in front of the freshly dug grave with the casket placed beside it.
Bruce (well, probably Alfred) had worked out all the details while you were locked in Jason’s room. A plot had been selected in the small graveyard on the edge of the Wayne estate, right next to where Bruce’s parents were buried. The casket is closed so you can’t see how they dressed Jay, but Bruce had promised you in the car that he tucked Jason’s Robin mask into his pocket like you asked. It was the only input you had given on the whole ceremony but it did make you feel a little better knowing he had it with him. 
To the world, this may just be the funeral of Jason Todd, but in reality, today you are burying two people, and you wanted to honor that.
Dick comes to stand next to you so you are sandwiched between him and Bruce. Though you don’t as much as glance in his direction, you are grateful to have your remaining son beside you. It is a calming reminder that not everyone has been taken from you. At least…not yet. 
As the ceremony starts, you hold your head high and stare straight ahead. It is harder than you thought, the weight of a hundred eyes boring into the back of your head, but you manage to remain calm and composed throughout the sermon.
It isn’t until they begin lowering the casket into the ground that everything goes wrong.
Unable to take your eyes off of the box containing your son as it disappears into the dirt, your body begins trembling violently as your knees give out underneath you. Luckily, Bruce catches you before you hit the ground but his touch does little to ease your trembling. 
Still staring at the casket, you begin repeating, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…” 
Bruce pulls you tight against his chest, allowing you to bury your face into his jacket to muffle to sound. You claw desperately at the back of his suit, your chanting becoming more frenzied by the moment despite no longer looking at the grave. It’s just too much. All of it’s too much. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…” 
Mercifully, Bruce gently lifts you into his arms and carries you back to the car. You cling tightly to him, your arms around his neck, even as you continue shaking and babbling, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…”
“Shhh….” Bruce coos gently. “It’s alright, sweetheart. You did so good. I know he’d be proud of you, just like I am. But it’s over now, and I’m taking you back to the manor just like I promised. It’s going to be okay.”
You nod into his neck as you finally manage to quiet down some. The words are still swirling in your head but at least they are no longer spewing from your lips. You thought you were stronger than this. You thought you could at least hold it together for an hour for your family’s sake, but you were so wrong. 
Even though it had been a closed casket funeral, knowing Jay was in there, seeing it disappear into the ground forever…it finalized everything in a way you hadn’t felt yet. All those days laying in Jason’s room, numb and disconnected from the world, you had distanced yourself from the reality of the truth. But there was no escaping it now. Jason was gone and there was nothing you could do to change that.
When you reach the manor, Bruce once again lifts you into his arms though you half-heartedly tell him you can walk on your own yet part of you is glad when he ignores you and continues to carry you up the stairs. You are somewhat surprised when Bruce returns you to Jason’s room without even asking. For some reason, you had assumed he would try to take you to the master bedroom to be with him.
You expect him to climb into bed or kneel down beside it, but once again he shocks you as he simply turns and walks to the door. He only pauses a moment to say, “I had Alfred put a fresh change of pajamas on the dresser.” Then he walks out and closes the door behind him.
You aren’t sure what to think about this. Has Bruce finally given up trying to reach you? Was he more embarrassed about your behavior at the funeral than he admitted? Or has he finally accepted you need time alone to deal with your loss? 
Still pondering his behavior, you climb out of bed and slip off the black dress you are wearing. Tossing it to the side, you walk over to the dresser to look for the clothes Bruce mentioned. The sooner you get them on, the sooner you can return to your blanket cocoon and lose yourself to your fog of grief once more. 
But as you spy the pajamas and you reach for them, your eyes land on something on the wall. Despite the fact today is May 11, Jason’s calendar is still turned to April. Since he left for Ethiopia on April 25th and was killed on the 27th, he never got the chance to change it. He would never know which classical author’s picture had been selected for May. Instead, Jason ran out of time and now it will forever be stuck on William Shakespeare.
Time….If only you had more time….
Three and a half years. That’s all the time you had with your son. It seems insane that someone who was in your life for such a short amount of time could leave such an impact on you, but there is no denying it. You know deep in your soul that you could not have loved Jason more if you had given birth to him or known him since the day he was born. He is your son just as much as Dick is, as much as the baby you had lost is, and now he’s gone too.
And it’s all because of The Joker.
For the first time since you had crawled into Jason’s room that first night, something besides sorrow stirs in your gut. The red-hot burn of vengeance that you have let your grief extinguish suddenly flares to life in your veins and your hands clench tightly on the edge of the dresser. 
Memories begin flashing through your mind: Sitting next to the bed, begging God to save an 18-year-old Dick as he clung to life after being shot by The Joker while on patrol; Monitoring the Batcomputer in horror as The Joker released his laughing gas throughout the streets of Gotham; Listening to Lt. Gordon’s sobs as he told Bruce what The Joker had done to Barbara;  Watching Bruce lift Jason’s lifeless body out of the Batmobile as your heart shattered in your chest.
He is responsible for all this death and this pain, year after year after year. He is the reason other villains think they can get away with whatever deadly scheme they have up their sleeves. He is why Arkham Asylum has become a swinging door deterrent that no one fears. He is the one who killed your son.
And he’s not going to get away with it any longer. 
Every cell in your body knows what has to be done, yet you also know the consequences if you do it. Is stopping this lunatic really worth destroying what’s left of your family? Can you really give up everything to ensure no one else ever feels this pain you are feeling?
You think about if your places had been reversed and it had been you who had been killed instead and there is absolutely no doubt in your mind that Jason would have burned the world down if it meant stopping The Joker. And if that’s true, how could you do anything less for your son?
With a newfound purpose driving you and a clear goal in your sights, you flip the calendar to May and pin it in place. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle stares back at you as you press your finger to May 27th; 16 days from now and exactly one month after Jason’s death. That will be the day. The day you do what you should have done long ago. The day you will kill The Joker.
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reveluving · 1 year
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today's batmom thot of the day is:
Bruce's secret stash of your 𝙣𝙪𝙙𝙚 polaroids!
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warnings: smut obv (minors DNI!), thirsty!Bruce is thirsty for his wife <;3
check out my batmom m.list &lt;3
Nobody loves you more than your husband. Anyone to claim otherwise, be it his children, Alfred or even your own staff (which were basically teenagers who now sees you as their mother, at this point), well, that'll only happen when hell freezes over.
The problem is? The man is always busy, as a renowned business by day and a renowned vigilante by night. So, he can't always spend time with you as much as he hopes for. So, naturally, when he's graced with the opportunity to be with you, no doubt he uses it like it's his last day on Earth.
But when he can't?
His nude polaroids of you are his saving grace.
You see that gif up there? That's him sneaking glances at those photos at any given time.
I've actually mentioned this fact in one of my drabbles! One of his favourite ones is kept in his wallet, stashed in the same slot behind your cafe's business card—if in any case his kids have his wallet for whatever reason, the last place they'd investigate is your card.
Or at least, he could only hope none of them ever stumble upon it.
If not, he knew you'd never let him keep another one. It's happened before, and he was lucky enough to find it.
But, was it worth traumatizing his father figure, who was unlucky enough to have found it?
What was it, you might ask?
It was during your honeymoon in Japan, your hotel room overlooking the city at night. He had on you the bed, his thumb nestled in your lips as he bottomed out. The spurt of cum trailing from your cunt up to your pretty glossy lips. The pure bliss on your face as you take his hard cock and oh, it never fails to make his blood run hot.
"Messy girl." He tutted with a sly smile, cooing at the mix of your drool and his cum coating his fingers. The magnificent view of the Tokyo Tower plus the skyscrapers surrounding it was an added benefit; a variety of neon lightly illuminating your room, enough for Bruce to see you in your glory.
He already took a good nine or ten photos of you on his phone before tossing it aside with your polaroid camera, where he's also used it on you for another three, one of which will definitely be his number one. For now, he wanted no interruptions, and loomed over you, the dangerous look in his eyes barely hidden behind his wet hair made it clear that he was beyond done with you. It wasn't until you whimpered and rolled against his hips that the look he had was accompanied by a smirk, knowing that you needed him as much as he needed you.
Yes, that honeymoon had to be one of the best ones he's ever had, and he's been to plenty with you.
The point is, his family has had enough trauma, for they've witnessed their fair share of 'unspeakable events' in the past regarding the two of you, be it in the bedroom, some gala, your cafe's storeroom.
But that's besides the point.
We've only talked about one of his utmost favourite polaroids, so you can bet your ass that he has more than just one! Those other favourites are stashed in the bedside table, his office desk, both in the mansion and his company, the Batcomputer's drawer, and the Batmobile. All of which were locked for his own use, of course.
He probably has at least 20, and counting, even, for your husband is not only a pleaser in bed, but an artistic one, as well. His muse? You, duh. Whether it's a polaroid of you in his oversized dress shirt only or nothing at all, these keepsakes are far more valuable than any art piece in any prestigious galleries. Better yet, they're priceless, for they belong to him and and him only.
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a reupload. dumblr really testing me. going back to my IRL responsibilities cuz shit is crazy rn see yall in a few months tho <3 /j
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kimberly-spirits13 · 1 year
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Batmom with Scarlet Witch Powers HC
Batfam x reader
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-Batmom with Scarlet Witch abilities is just here to entertain the boys and scare the living hell out of the Gotham rouges
• 9 year old Dick asking that you make Dumbo with your powers-
• Tim wants to fly so you let him fly
• Jason just wants to see cool red sparkly magic
• Damian doesn’t take interest to your powers at first but later he was more into the history of the magic and why on earth it exists
• Batmom with scarlet witch powers pertains wiping away bad dreams at three in the morning because you can’t stand to see your boys with tears in their eyes and sweat down their forehead
• The hyper proactive mode of batmom is only enhanced with the powers
• Bruce isn’t really a powers around the house kinda guy but use them on patrol to save some time and he’s secretly thanking you
• When Jason died you went after Joker and ripped him apart
• That man was screaming bloody murder in Arkham for weeks and weeks on end
• You never told Bruce what you made Joker see but Harley comes to you sometimes to ask if you’ll threaten Joker if he’s being mean to her
• He pees his pants- like literally goes into fear flight mode
• Bruce doesn’t bother asking what you did to him cause whatever it was works enough
• Scarecrow messes with your boys long enough and you put him into psychosis for a little while
• That whole reality manipulation gig works really well
• Batmom interrogations are rare and far between due to this
• Either way the boys think that it’s awesome
• They like to hear stories about when you were just discovering your powers
• At first you didn’t think that they were all that but when you had the proper training to seek out their true capabilities the shenanigans started
• You probably team up with Justice League Dark a lot since your powers are extremely useful
• Cue random visits from Constantine and Zatanna , possibly the occasional from a spirit
• All of the Gotham rouges are straight terrified of you which works well to your advantage
• When the newbies from outer-space come at earth and try to invade you’re called in to send them running back with tails between their legs
• Your powers also work really well when pertaining to the therapy of civilians and those around you
• Going back and figuring out where everything went wrong with the reality thing and working through all of the trauma through a safer space really increases the morale of everyone
- helping freeze with the loss of his wife -helping Clayface work through his complex wants for revenge
-calming down Grundy when he’s rampaging
• The definition of chaotic neutral
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kaiyaamin · 2 months
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Stuff the Bat family has said
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Dick: Nope...I'm ready, more ready than Spongebob. Lol
Jason: aye aye captain!
Dick: I can't hear you!
Jason: AYE AYE CAPTAIN!
Dick: absorbent, and yellow, and porous, is me. Lol
Jason: Ewe Lmao! I'm pretty sure they make a cream for that!!
Dick: Tried it, doesn't work...You have to use peanut butter and a cat.
———-
Dick: Mom we're so sorry
Damian: We'll never do it again
Batmom: What are you talking about?
Damian: we said bad words when you couldn't hear.
Dick: We know it's wrong! we're so sorry!
Batmom: what bad words are you talking about?
Dick and Damian: Hate.
———-
Tim: the ocean is a soup
Bruce: yeah, you're going to have to walk me through that one homeboy.
Tim: What's needed for a soup to be a soup?
Bruce: Okay let's go with Water, Vegetables, salt, and me personally a little bit of meat......OH MY GOD the ocean is a soup!
The rest of the Bat family: THE OCEAN IS A SOUP!
———-
Batmom: if the house was on fire and you could only bring one thing out, what would it be?
Jason: My helmet
Dick: My suit
Damian: Titus
Tim: a nap.
———-
Jason: Are you a Hero?
Batmom: yes
Jason: one day I'm gonna be a hero!
Batmom: really?
Jason: well no, not really father says I don't have the balls to be a hero.
Bruce: I NEVER SAID THAT.... I said you needed a few years of training to become a hero.
Jason: I was so angry, but...He was right, I'M FUCKIN PRETTY PRINCESS!
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gulnarsultan · 1 year
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damian wayne jealous of batmom because bruce is taking up all his time with mom
Everybody knows that Damian is really troublesome sometimes. Bruce's attitude and gaze towards his father has been bothering him lately. Bruce finally confronts Damian for his attitude. Bruce has a hard time not laughing when Damian tells him the truth. Other members of the family make fun of Damian about this. (in a good way.) The reader is more careful not to upset Damian. Damian will always want his mother's attention and affection.
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