Little Daredevil (Batfam X Blind!Batsis!Reader
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.
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
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