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sammytheotakunerd · 16 days
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might be running a little late on the spiderverse post (and by little i mean it’ll prolly be posted this weekend instead when all of us are free) cause i got assigned a task for skewl last minute 😭😭😭😭 so ill just give you guys this short fic/drabble w/ Cat Villain Reader for now that has been rotting in drafts for a bit.
please read my previous cat villain posts for more context !!
If you were to give a rank of the most punchable face in the Batfam, it’d be Damian. No surprise there in hindsight, but the fact that he managed to beat his own dad — the one that left your one true love to die — still astounded you.
Despite his reputation and the fact above, Damian had more calm moments with you than any of his predecessors. It may have been due to other factors; you being older and more mature (less of a brat), that you didn’t hate his guts, or that he wasn’t a masochist like Tim.
But the biggest reason was Talia.
You don’t get how the woman fell for Bruce but she did, and you knew she would do anything for him. You’ve fought her before and she was no joke.
And, she was the only person who helped you with Jason. Who didn’t scoff at your violent reaction towards his death. Who actually understood you, rather than ply you with words of comfort.
So, of course, you were a lot more gentle when it came to her son. Even during his more verbally abusive phase.
Recently however, you’ve noticed a change.
“What?” Damian glared at you (I say as if he looks at you in any other way other than glaring)
“Nothing.” You looked away, your mouth forming a pout. Damn him for having great observational skills even through both of your masks and while you guys were in the middle of a fight.
“Were you just staring at my arms?”
“No!” You shouted in offence. “. . . Yes.”
But how dare of him to be right anyways! It wasn’t your fault his new fit looked tighter on his toned biceps.
In any case, that’s where the change really started to be obvious. Usually after that he’d knock you out or screech curses, but now… now he’d —
“Keep looking. You’re easier to catch when distracted.”
You immediately felt your knees go weak.
The nicknames, too. Good god the nicknames. Some of them were still as degrading as ever, but you also noticed a sudden rise of sweeter ones, some in his mother tongue, others just plain corny.
“Hey Kitty, get your food elsewhere.” Damian greeted you from behind.
Damian never greeted you.
Your fights and/or meet-ups always started with a little roughhousing.
Which, as of the moment, was not happening just yet. Not to mention he didn’t even take advantage of your surprised state.
And so you turn invisible.
Ever the sharp eyed man that he was, he quickly spotted you from the sound of your movements. Yet he doesn’t attack. In the blink of an eye, he appeared right behind you, seizing your arms and whispered, “Did that make you purr?”
You licked him in response. Safe to say that you were smacked down afterwards.
You were starting to think that Damian liked you.
Of course, even though you were confident to a fault, you weren’t conceited. So in order to test that theory, you managed to switch your heists up for when he wasn’t on duty.
And from what you hear from Tim, he hasn’t been doing so great.
So terrible his days have been in fact that he had been sloppy enough to get caught. While the rest of his team was busy fighting you took the opportunity to sneak in. A favour for Talia’s help, you thought.
“Fool! What are you—“ Damian shouted at you. The villain they were fighting was no joke. If you had gotten caught —
His sermon gets interrupted by a kiss from you to the lips. You even shove your tongue down his throat for good measure.
You separate from him after a few minutes.
You think from the fact that he pulls you back in and kisses you as his friends were screaming in the background made it clear that he more than just liked you.
Maybe even loved you…
— to be continued
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sammytheotakunerd · 17 days
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If you saw THAT post, no you didn't
I'm just getting back to writing slowly and I accidentally posted my draft😭😭
I might write again cause my writer's block is fading away (finally) and I'm becoming more motivated to do your requests.
So sorry to all the people who requested and I still haven't posted it!! I'm on my way to post it:DDD
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sammytheotakunerd · 17 days
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i bet he use 13 in one shampoo or something
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sammytheotakunerd · 18 days
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sammytheotakunerd · 18 days
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Why is this so accurate
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sammytheotakunerd · 19 days
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Not Here
[Yandere! Platonic! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]
[Warnings: Mentions of neglect, Mild Yandere Behavior, Batfam being hella stupid.]
(Not really proofread. The birds and bats seeing that y'know- maybe not paying attention to people and neglecting them isn't a good thing. Chaos ensues. More of a development thing. Might be a little ooc?)
Tags: @bigcandlesmolbrain
Part 2 of this post.
๑۩۞۩๑—————————————————————๑۩۞۩๑
Bruce liked to think he was a good father, for anything that was worth. Or at the very least, a decent one.
He wasn't perfect by any means, but he felt like he raised his children the best he could, and had made them into responsible and diligent adults. Dick was a great example of this, and even if Damian was still growing up, Bruce had hope that he'd turn out to be good as well. The hardships his current Robin had to face would pay off in the end, Bruce was almost too sure of that.
Those he decided to take under his wing had their flaws, yes, but even if he didn't say it out loud or point it out often. He did believe that they were good at what they do, or at least were on the right path to becoming good vigilantes. Bruce couldn't help but be proud and prideful of where his children and sidekicks were, and could only look forward to how they would continue to develop as time went on. Despite their feelings towards him, and his own faults, mistakes, paranoia, and so on. Along with how he felt about them, and their flaws — he couldn't help but respect the people those in his little mess of a family where becoming, and turning out to be.
Or maybe he was both overestimating and underestimating himself, and the true effects he had on those he decided to look after.
Since, for a few days now, he felt like something was... off.
The Manor seemed quieter these days, and even if he couldn't remember a time where it was particularly loud, the detail felt misplaced to him. Sure, he hasn't hosted a gala or party in a while, but that didn't feel like it was the reason why the silence suddenly bothered him.
Bruce tried to think of all possible reasons, a little surprised himself that this feeling of his was bothering him so much, but the more he thought about it the more confused he became. There didn't seem to be a particular reason for this... and yet, just as he was about to put this feeling aside, he heard it.
["I, um, I was just wondering..."]
["Oh, uhh, that's quite alright! Oh, one moment please... oh! Second chorus... T'was brilling, and the slithy toves, did gyre and gimble in the wade..."]
It sounded like some sort of... play? Bruce wasn't too sure, but still decided to check it out regardless, wondering why something like that was playing in the first place.
So, allowing the sounds of the play to guide him, he continued on.
["Why- why you're a cat!"]
The voices grew louder as Bruce drew closer, interest peaked as he tried to recall and see of he knew this play. The lines sounding familiar, now that he was really listening to them.
["A Cheshire Cat. All mimsy were the borogoves..."]
Once Bruce rounded the corner he saw a... familiar face on the screen.
A student play was being filmed, and the play itself was Alice in Wonderland.
Whereas Bruce didn't recognize the actor for Alice, he did recognize the actor for the Cheshire Cat, but couldn't quite put his finger on it...
Was... was that...?
"Y/n?" He whispered your name, voice barely above a whisper.
No, it couldn't be. You didn't participate in any plays, and surely if you did he would've known about it. Even then, that didn't explain why he was seeing this now. The play itself had to have been a recording, since you looked so young...
How long ago did this take place?
["Oh, wait! Don't go, please!"]
["Very well. Third chorus..."]
["Oh no, no, no... thank you, but- but I just wanted to ask you which way I ought to go."]
["Well, that depends on where you want to get to."]
["Oh, it really doesn't matter... as long as I g-"]
["Then it really doesn't matter which way you go! Ah-hmm.... and the momeraths outgrabe..."]
Bruce was staring so intensely at the screen that he hardly noticed how the lines and voices faded into the background. His focus centered on you, disbelief gnawing at the back of his head.
He had never seen you smile like that before, not during all the times he's seen you anyway. Even if those moments themselves were small and short from what he could remember, the smile you wore during your performance felt... new in a way. Like something he hadn't seen before — not on your face anyway. Though that wasn't the only thing that made Bruce feel weird as he watched the play.
It wasn't anything to do with your acting skills. They were fine for the most part — and honestly considering the age you probably were during the time of the play, they might've been above average, or even a little higher than that. Not even the girl who played Alice, who also did relatively well, was the source of this odd feeling.
It wasn't the costumes or the set up, or even the lighting, and how he could faintly see the silhouette of other actors and such just behind the curtain, because of the camera angle. No, it hardly had anything to do with anything like that, but, how should he put this...
... How come he didn't know about this? How come he wasn't aware of this play before? Let alone that they had a recording of it, and that you were even a part of it... but Bruce still felt bothered by this whole realization because, well.
Why didn't you tell him about this?
"Master Bruce?"
The sudden voice snapped Bruce out of whatever trance he was stuck in, as he whipped his head around to face the source of it.
He huffed softly, "Oh, hey Alfred." Bruce greeted calmly, acting as if the butler hadn't caught him off guard.
Alred couldn't help but raise a brow at that.
Almost in a silent, embarrassed way, Bruce glanced off to the side only to notice that the recording was still playing, and so he decided to ask about it. Since, if someone knew anything about anyone in this Manor, it would be Alfred.
"Say... what's this playing on the TV?"
"It's a recording of one of Master Y/n's plays, Master Bruce." Alfred answered simply, almost as if it was common knowledge. "Apologies if it's too loud, I decided to play it while cleaning. I can change it or turn it down if you'd like."
"No, no it's fine... but since when has Y/n acted in plays? I don't remember hearing about this." Bruce stated, confusion growing as another emotion began to swell in his chest. One he was all too familiar with, but ignored for the moment.
"Since middle school, if I recall correctly, but it was only while they were younger. Having only been in three school plays in total, I believe." Alfred moved closer to Bruce as he looked at the screen, eyes softening for a moment as he watched you move along the stage. You had grown up so much since then, and the stage fright you used to have felt like nothing more but a faint memory now.
You wouldn't believe how incredibly proud of you he is.
"It's a shame they didn't do any more afterwards, since it would've been nice to have a few more recordings of their performances, but I suppose that's what happens when you find a new passion." He looked back at Bruce. That previous softness in his gaze nowhere to be found.
There was a certain way how his eyes looked at the billionaire, as if expecting something. As if expecting this.
Alfred had higher hopes, but you had left for a reason. Even if he knew what that reason was, it was only now did he see it more clearly. Especially as he witnessed Bruce's face shift into one of shock and surprise.
"They've always told you, Master Bruce, but you're schedule has just always been too full." Alfred handed Bruce a piece of paper, and Bruce took it wordlessly, looking it over.
It was a flyer promoting a play — the Alice in Wonderland play that was still going in the background — with the dates and times listed below, along with some of the cast members. Your name stuck out like a sour thumb compared to the rest.
Bruce did remember seeing this before, but one thing did still confuse him as he looked back at Alfred.
"I'm pretty sure you gave this to me at the time, not Y/n."
"That I did, sir, but that was only because Master Y/n was having some trouble with catching you attention, because they had wanted to give you the flyer themself. So I offered to give it to you for them." Alfred replied truthfully, cleaning up a little more while he was at it, and leaving Bruce to his thoughts for the moment.
He didn't remember you trying to catch his attention... but if what Alfred says is true then that makes sense, even if it made Bruce feel bad in a way. The feeling growing a little more when he realized something Alfred had said.
"And this happened all three times?"
"You sound surprised, Master Bruce."
Bruce ran a hand through his hair, eyes pinned on the flyer as he pressed his pursed into a thin line. Countless thoughts floated around in his head, all of them jumbled up and messy as he just didn't know what to make of this. Missing one was probably fine, and maybe two at a push, but all three? How could he have missed every single one?
Sure he was busy, but he didn't think it was this bad. Did he just forget? How did he not notice such a thing had slipped right past him?
All Bruce could do was sigh. There was nothing he could do about it now, and even if there was a way to make it up to you, he didn't know where to start, or if that would change anything to begin with. Besides, he didn't even know how long it's been since these performances had happened.
...
Wait a minute-
"Alfred, how long ago was this?"
Alfred just looked at Bruce, brows just barely creased before he took a breath of his own.
"A few years ago, sir."
What?
At the look of disbelief on Bruce's face, Alfred could only stand and straighten himself out as he calmly asked, "How old do you think Master Y/n is, sir?"
"Oh, well, they're..."
... Bruce couldn't even think of an answer.
Obviously you had to be in highschool since it had been years since you've performed in a play, with the Alice in Wonderland play being one of them, but how old were you exactly? What year were you in? Were you a sophomore? Junior? Surely you weren't a freshman, but even then — what high school did you even go to? Bruce didn't think you were home schooled, or else he'd definitely notice that... or would he?
Oh no.
What if you already graduated? What if you already had gone and done something that not even Alfred knew about? Did you have a job? Where would you even work? Were you already in college? What college would you even go to? Did you manage to get a scholarship? What would be you major? Where would you be studying? Would you even stay in Gotham? Were you even old enough to be out on your own? Could you even drink yet? Could you drive? Did you own a car? Or even a motor bike? When was your birthday? Did it already pass? What's the month? The day? The year?
How old are you?
"I... I think I'm going to go and just check up on them." Bruce couldn't answer, and while he had a vauge idea. That's all it was, an idea. So he moved the subject along, and made his way up the stairs, leaving Alfred behind. Just watching as the world's greatest detective left the room, all because he couldn't figure out the age of one of his own kids. One he had chosen to take in and watch over like all the rest, and yet left behind all the same in the process.
Alfred could only sigh to himself as he paused the recording of the play. Ejecting the disc and putting it in its respective case, and placing it in its usual spot.
This was the only way, he decided. This was the only way.
--------------
Bruce didn't feel much better by the time he reached your room. It took him mistakenly stumbling into two guest rooms before he finally reached it, and honestly he felt more regret over that alone.
Most of this time he hardly remembered that the room before him now was even occupied, let alone that you had claimed it as yours. What didn't help was that it was only now that he remembered introducing this space as your own, and yet he had forgotten that small detail so quickly.
Regardless, Bruce just pushed that all to the side as he knocked on the door, taking in a breath.
"Y/n?" He called out, only to get no respose. So he tried knocking again, but he still got nothing.
Sure, he was getting a little confused, but just pushed that to the side with everything else, as he stared down at the door knob.
... Should he?
He had to talk with you eventually, especially considering what he just figured out and how little he actually knew about you. He needed to talk with you. He couldn't just let this slide, not with what he knew now. He couldn't. He wouldn't.
So, be tried the knob, and was kind of surprised that it was unlocked. Though besides that little strange detail, he gently pushed the door open, and took a peak inside.
Oh. You weren't even here...
Bruce didn't know how to feel about that.
Regardless of that, however, he opened up the door a little wider, and stepped inside. What he saw only made him more confused, but also feel so much worse when he looked all over the room. How could this be...?
Various things were on your desk, shelves, and hung on the walls. Your room looked surprisingly clean, but honestly Bruce doesn't know what he was expecting. After all, he didn't even know your exact age or hardly anything about you, and even then — by the looks of things, he had missed out on so much more than he originally thought.
Trophies, awards, medals, and certificates were littered about your room. The very sight of them made the paper in Bruce's hands feel so much heavier, and yet he still held onto it as he further inspected the awards, and few pictures hung on your walls.
Every color was here, from bronze to silver to gold, and at some point it seemed you were able to get a consistent amount of silvers and gold. The awards themselves were from various events and activities that barely corresponded with each other. From fencing to swimming, and dance to pottery. From track and field to literacy, and gymnastics to cooking.
It was like you had tried to do so much of everything, and were trying to collect all of these awards from all of these different activities, rather than earn them because you deserved it for all your hard work and dedication to do that particular activity, but Bruce just couldn't understand why. Why go through all of the effort just to move on to the next thing? It... didn't make sense.
Right next to you black belt for martial arts, you had hung up the few medals you had gotten from track, and right below that were some awards you had for gymnastics. Beside your soccer trophies you had some kind of art award, and beside that was more awards and things you had received from playing and participating in other sports and activities. Bruce had no idea you were even into some of these things, but just from looking at your room, he could tell you weren't all that into or interested in some of the activities you did. Seeing as some activities and such had more awards when compared to others, but one thing in particular seemed to really catch your interest.
Music.
Not only did you have a whole wall and section of your room dedicated to it, but it felt more organized, and the placement of awards and such seemed more thought out in a way.
Countless awards littered the wall, and from the placement alone he knew you were proud of them. The pictures hung on the wall showed you shaking someone's hand as you either held up an award or album cover. You smiled, and Bruce could see how genuine it was as he felt like he could feel your happiness radiate off the photo itself. The people you were shaking hands with looked pretty happy themselves, and Bruce was a little surprised that he recognized them, but that made him feel more conflicted.
The people in those photos with you, were famous, and you had gotten those opportunities to meet them and shake their hand all by yourself.
All of these awards — they were only the finishing products of what you had spent all of your time doing. They were only small glimpses into the person you truly were, and as Bruce looked at the records you had hung on the wall, he could feel his own regret spilling out of his bleeding heart.
He wish he was there with you.
He wish that he had been there to see you even get half of these rewards that you undoubtedly deserved. He wish he got to hear the music you played, and what kind of songs you wrote. He wish he had been there to see you go on, and work your way up, with him being there as your support, and yet...
He had missed everything.
From the plays, to the matches you had, to the games you played in and competitions you participated in, and how could he forget your performances that even earned you such big, important awards. Awards that probably meant so much to you, because of how far it showed you had grown.
Bruce missed it all. Every little thing.
... He had to find you.
No if's or but's this time. No more excuses. He had to find you. Bruce needed to.
So he did a more thorough search of your room. Finally placing the flyer down on your desk as he looked around. He checked your closet, your bed, even under the picture frames, and moved some of the awards around, in order to better check and search for anything. Any hint that could point to where you had gone, and or where you might be. Any clue, any thing that could tell him about you.
He even made sure to take a mental note of the people in the photos, just in case he had to reach out to them and ask if they knew where you were by some off chance. Though that was only if Bruce was convinced that you weren't even in the Manor, and getting some extra information on you never hurt anyway. Seeing as he had a lot of catching up to do.
As he searched, he ran into various things. From equipment, art pieces — most of which were unfinished — and old notes, to other random items. Like an airsoft gun, some glass beakers, various ties, a pair of shades, a glasses frame, and a sewing kit next to a first-aid kit? Bruce didn't want to think about how the first-aid kit both looked used, and was empty.
Bruce even stumbled upon a fancy looking tuxedo he didn't remember buying you at all, but a small tag caught his eye and-
Oh, it was a gift from someone else, and with the note you left behind the tag — most likely with the intention of giving the tuxedo back — it was safe to assume that you and this person knew each other quite well...
Bruce just put the tux back. He would've gotten you a better one anyway if you had just asked, or if he even knew you needed one in the first place. Though regardless of that, he kept looking.
Eventually, he looked under your bed, and found a single box under there. Undisturbed... sitting innocently in the darkness.
Bruce didn't waste much time as he reached out and grabbed it, and placed it on your bed. There was a thin layer of dust on top of it, which Bruce found a little strange but kept in mind as he opened the box and looked inside. There, he saw a variety of notebooks and papers, and from the looks of things, the items in here had been collecting a bit of dust too...
When was the last time you touched these?
It seemed a little strange that these were tucked away from everything else, and clearly you didn't want other people going through it or even seeing them since you kept it so out of view. Were they diaries? Bruce would rather learn anything personal about you from yourself, he didn't want to go through your things like this, but considering the situation...
He sighed, and just picked up a random notebook. If this could help him find you, then so be it. He didn't want to do this but he couldn't leave you alone either. Not again.
Yet, he was so focused on looking through your things that he didn't even realize that someone had passed by, and noticed the odd room Bruce was in. A room that they themselves haven't seen before.
"Woah, what's this place? An old childhood room or something?" Dick asked as he invited himself into the room, mindlessly looking around, not really paying attention to anything in particular as he waltzed around.
"It's Y/n's room." Bruce stated bluntly, still looking over the dusty notebooks in the box. Some simply labeled 'Notes' or 'Practice', while one in particular was called 'Ideas/List & Progress' with little drawn sparkles around it. Another two weren't labeled with titles or words, and instead with small music notes doodled onto the cover in your favorite color. Though Bruce didn't know the color was your favorite.
Nevertheless, Bruce decided to look through one of the notebooks with music notes on it, completely missing how Dick had froze, and turned to look at him as if he was crazy.
"What? You've got to be kidding, right?" Bruce just gestured to one of the records on the wall, flipping through the notebook in his hand as he read through it quickly but carefully.
Dick, still not entirely convinced and honestly just really confused, looked at one of the records Bruce had gestured towards, and felt like he had just gotten ran over by a truck with how hard reality hit him. There your name was, signed and everything, with a well-known producer listened as well.
His eyes even darted to the other records, only to find the same thing, and for just one final check, he looked at one of the awards on the wall.
Your name was engraved on it.
"Holy-" He covered his mouth, more than shocked as he looked around the room again, hand falling from his face, "but that means-" Now Dick was paying more attention to the room, moving from one thing to another as he looked over everything now.
"How did they- there's no way they did all of this? And- what. They even did gymnastics?!" To say that Dick was in absolute disbelief and shock was an understatement. Yet he hardly had any time to recover or process anything as another person popped into the room, albeit only temporarily.
"I'm afraid it is quite possible, Master Dick." Alfred spoke up, catching the attention of the oldest sibling as he moved into the room, and set a stack of papers on your desk, right next to the flyer Bruce had set down.
Confused and curious, Dick looked at the stack once Alfred had pulled away from it, and picked up the first paper.
It was another flyer, but this time for some kind of solo event or concert you'd be doing. The date written down was a few days ago... a week or so having already passed since then, but how could this be?
Dick hesitated, but took another one as he looked it over. Again, it was for some kind of concert or performance, but the date and time was further away. Three weeks to a month having passed since, but how did they not notice? Didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell them?
"This doesn't make any sense... why didn't Y/n tell us about any of these things?" He asked, mostly to himself as he continued to look through the various flyers.
"Why don't you tell me, Master Dick?" Alfred quipped, looking at Dick in a knowing way before stepping out of the room, "Now, I'll be heading off, but I do trust that both of you make the right choice this time around." With that, he simply left. Leaving Dick confused but feeling worse at the same time as he looked back at the flyers, mind racing until he spotted something.
Carfully, Dick pulled out another flyer out of the pile as he placed the others to the side. He recognized this one, but where had he seen it before? Was it...
... Oh god.
Dick whipped out his phone and checked his messages. He had to scroll down a bit, but he quickly found your contact and tapped on it. He flipped through your messages, hundreds upon thousands of which he never responded to, and even if that alone made he feel bad. When he found what he was looking for, he felt even worse.
He found a message of you sending him a photo of the flyer, and said how you hoped you'd see him there. The message itself had been sent almost a year ago, and as he looked back at the flyer, he didn't know how to feel. Yet he kept looking, especially as he spotted another familiar poster.
Some of them he was able to connect back to another message you had sent, and the further back he went the more he responded... but it wasn't much, and he seemed to leave you on read more times than not. He had made an effort, but clearly it wasn't enough.
Dick couldn't imagine how that must've felt for you, and he almost didn't want to. Yet he still continued to search through the flyers, and came across one he had an odd memory of. He did remember seeing a text for it, but also remembered hearing about it somehow? He wasn't too sure, but just incase he did decide to look through his voicemail. He didn't know what he'd find, but he decided to just have a little look, even if he wasn't sure he'd even find anything.
So, he matched the date of the message and scrolled until he found it.
The voicemail innocently stared at him, and Dick couldn't help but hesitate before he tapped on it, and let it play. Heart already heavy as he stared down at the flyer. The kind of look someone gave when they already knew it was too late, and Dick didn't know what was worse. The fact that he basically missed out on your entire life at this point, or that he had nothing to say for it besides that he was sorry, and had just forgotten about these things one too many times.
["Hey, Dick! I, um, I hope everything is going well and that patrol hasn't been too bad." Your voice wavered as you spoke. You were clearly nervous but you tried to push on anyway, and cleared your throat before you tried again.]
["How are you, though? I heard that you had a rough night the other day- and I know I'm not really into all this crime-fighting stuff like everyone else but... I just hope you're okay, y'know?" You chuckled nervously before you cleared your throat again, "An-anyway, um, yeah. I just- hope you're okay." The sound of a paper being fiddled with could be heard, and you took in a small breath.]
["So... I have this performance I'll be doing next Saturday- it's more of a competition really, since other musicians and stuff will be there too. It's at 7 o'clock, and I know you guys mostly work at night and everything- but if you could drop by or even just quickly come around at 8:15 that would be great! Since, um, that's when I'll be performing..."]
Dick looked at awards you hung on the wall as the voicemall continued to play. Based on the date of the performance he was able to find the award. You had gotten second place.
["It's um, it's a piece I wrote that's a tribute to your family- the Flying Graysons, that is, since we're allowed to play songs we wrote if they were approved beforehand, and it was! So, um, I really hope you don't mind. Your family is cool! Not that Bruce and everyone else isn't or anything- um, I'm going to stop talking about that before I say something stupid. But! I couldn't help but feel inspired so I, y'know-" you cleared your throat again. Clearly nervous.]
["Sorry for my rambling- but, yeah. You can pass by if you want or have the time, and it's right by that one place Bruce had that whole charity announcement on Monday. You can't miss it, there will be lights and all this other stuff- not to mention that it'll probably be loud considering things, but uh, yeah."]
["So if you think you can make it or pass by, it's at 7! Next Saturday! And if you can't make it by then, I play at 8:15! So, yeah. Remember that! If- if you want to. Hope to see you there! And if I don't, that's okay. I just hope you enjoy the piece if you hear it. Have a good night! Or-! Or day! Whenever you listen this- um, bye!"]
What? You had wrote a song for him? For his parents? For them?
Dick's heart swelled. He didn't even get to hear it either, he wasn't able to. He didn't have time, and he forgot, but that didn't make things better, did it?
You had gone through all of that effort, and not only made a song for him but even played it during a competition and got second place. Yet he couldn't even put a few minutes to the side to listen to it. He didn't.
Now Dick definitely felt awful.
However, he did notice that there was another voicemail left by you just a few minutes after the last one. So, he decided to play that too before his guilt and regret could fully settle in, as if it'd make him feel better somehow.
["8:45! IT'S 8:45! THAT'S WHEN I PLAY! NOT- Not 8:15, sorry! I mixed up the times- that's when a friend of mine plays, not me! Sorry! Uh, but yeah. I play at 8:45- stop by if you can! I hope to see you then! Buh-bye!"]
Okay, well, Dick officially felt worse now. So much worse.
You had all this character and personality, and yet he was never able to fully see it — to hear it like he has now. Not like this, not while he was paying attention.
Your voice was so much different than what he remembered, and despite your nerves you really tried to tell him because you hoped he'd be there. You tried to tell him in hopes he'd actually show up, and he never did. Even as he listened to your other voice messages, he could hear how his own actions, or lack thereof, were affecting you.
The messages grew shorter, more to the point, and while you did still sound enthusiastic — it's like he could hear the hope dying in your voice. The hope that'd he show up. That any effort would be made, but that didn't happen, and it didn't help that Dick was listening to some of the voicemails he was going through right now, for the first time.
He could only imagine the pain he caused you, and Bruce was thinking the same thing.
Bruce was still looking through your notebooks as Dick was regretting everything he had done to you in the past.
The notebook Bruce was reading now was one where you had written down majority of your more recent song ideas, along with things you wanted to try and melodies you were trying to mix together. It was mostly full of lyrics and small notes to yourself about certain things you wanted to keep in mind, and though there was a lot of things crossed out, Bruce couldn't help but be... charmed in a strange way.
How you talked to yourself was adorable, and seeing your excitement for your own performances and such through each word you wrote, just made Bruce feel so happy for you. He could almost picture your smile and how giddy you felt when you were writing some of these things down, or how focused you were when trying to figure out how to continue the chorus of a song you were making — or if there should even be lyrics to begin with. Along with how you wanted the song itself to sound, and what emotions you wanted to capture in it.
With each page turned it's like he could see the entire process you went through when it came to your song composition. Like he was almost there with you in the moment, watching you do your thing, and honestly? Just by that alone he couldn't help but grow... softer.
Bruce loved seeing how your mind worked when it came to music, and your thought process behind each and every little thing. He just... he felt like through each line and little note he read and looked over, he was falling in love. The kind of love that he couldn't quite describe, besides just the love only a father could feel when they really see their child for who they are for the first time. The kind of love Bruce hadn't felt in a long while, nor this intensely.
You were so creative and passionate, so driven to achieve your dream and do what you loved. You were just so... you, and there was just something about the way you expressed that in the notebook that felt charming. The deeper Bruce got into the notebook, the harder it was to not love you, and each time he saw one of your little notes, he could feel himself smiling. You were so precious, how could he not see that before?
Though, besides all of that, he did notice a small pattern.
Every performance you had, you mentioned in the notebook and would express your feelings about it, and every time you did — you'd write something beneath it. Just a small paragraph about certain hopes you had. Hopes that made Bruce's heart squeeze tighter.
It was you hoping that they'd get to see you perform, that they'd show up, and suddenly Bruce was reminded of why he was doing this in the first place. So, he started to flip through your book, shaking out of whatever trance he was in.
With each performance that passed, the little paragraph got shorter, smaller, simpler. Like a quiet prayer that was dying down, as the believer slowly lost their hope and faith. It even came to a point where only one sentence was written for a while.
"I hope I see one of them."
Bruce's heart broke a little more each and every time he saw it, but the page that really got to him was when the sentence was smudged, small wrinkles and creases were on the page, and you couldn’t even finish writing the sentence as the end of the 'e' in 'them' dragged out.
What didn't help was when he flipped a few more pages, and found the last performance you had written about. It was a few months ago, but the date didn't immediately catch Bruce's eye. No, no, no, what caught his attention at first was the change of that single sentence.
"I hope the audience enjoys it."
His heart shattered at that, smile fading as he took in a breath. A moment passed, with Bruce just stating at the writing. Wishing for the impossible, and to change things that had already been done. It was too late, but he somehow refused to believe that now.
Finally, he noticed the date and paused.
That... couldn't be right. You used to write in this notebook all the time from what he could tell, why did you stop? Did something happen that day?
If months really have passed... then that would explain all the dust on the box and contents within it, but still, it didn't make sense. Weren't you still here in the Manor? Bruce honestly couldn't think of why'd you would stop writing unless you somehow couldn't reach the notebook, but you couldn’t have left, right? Surely, above everything else, he would've notice that, right?
...
Bruce finally looked at Dick, seeing the oldest just staring at old flyers from various events and such you had participated in throughout your life. A life they never got to see.
"When was Y/n's last performance?" He asked bluntly, getting straight to the point.
Dick glanced at Bruce for a moment before looking back down at your desk. He moved some of the papers around before he found the most recent one and looked over to his father with a raised brow.
"About a week ago, why?"
Bruce looked back down at the notebook in his hand, eyes scanning over the date again before he closed it. Looking back at Dick, he asked another question.
"Have you seen Y/n around?"
Dick grew quiet at that, and after a moment he just sighed and shook his head.
"No, I can't say I have." It was only then did he catch what Bruce may have been thinking, "You don't think they-"
"It's a possibility. We can't be too sure just yet," Bruce just wanted to hold onto his hope that you were still here, and even if the chance was small he was willing to take it. He didn't want to believe that they had pushed you so far away that you would not only consider leaving, but actually went ahead and did it. He wanted to be doubtful, but he couldn't rule out anything. Not yet.
"Just keep looking, I'll go ask the others." Bruce stated as he placed the notebook back in the box and headed out the room.
"Keep looking? For what?! Other events we missed? More ways we ignored them? Things they did without us?!"
To say Dick's guilt was eating away at him would be an understatement. It was practically devouring him at this point, and he could just barely take it.
Bruce paused at the doorframe, sighing as he looked back at Dick, "Any hints or clues to where they could be. Favorite spots they might frequent, places where their lessons were held, people they know, anything." He left him with that, causing Dick to just run a stressed hand through his hair as he took a breath.
Worry and regret heavily weighed down on him, but all he could do was carry it for now. He'd make it up to you somehow. He would, and he'd finally get to hear that song one way or another.
As Dick started his search, so did Bruce.
Bruce did a general search around the house, looking for anyone he came across while also trying to look for you. He thought that if he was lucky, he'd run into you. Even if the possibility was small, it could still happen — or he hoped so anyway.
Just this once, Bruce really hoped for the best.
Though, he did end up running into someone, even if it wasn't who he was looking for.
"Woah, someone looks serious. What's got your bat panties in a twist?" Jason asked, amused, "Actually, wait, don't tell me. I don't c-"
"Have you seen Y/n?" Bruce cut Jason off, getting straight to the point.
The sudden question confused Jason as he gave Bruce a weird look, some of his amusment still remaining but it began to die down a bit.
"No... why?"
Bruce took a breath, fingers twitching, "Do you know where they could be?"
"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Jason's own confusion began to take over, his amusement continuing to die down, "Seriously, did something happen? Why are you suddenly looking for them?"
Bruce took a moment, just looking at Jason before he sighed.
"When was the last time you saw them?"
"... A few days ago..." Jason glanced off to the side.
"Jason."
"Okay, okay! Fine. I don't fucking know! A few weeks ago? Maybe?!" He answered, getting agitated already. "I'm barely here enough as it is, how am I supposed to know where they are!"
Again, Bruce took in another breath, but there was something about it that Jason didn't like. Maybe he inhaled too sharply or deeply — Jason wasn't sure, but all he knew was that he wasn't going to like what Bruce was about to say.
"Dick hasn't seen them either."
"And that's supposed to be a surprise, how? He lives all the way in Bludhaven, of course he isn't going to see Y/n. 'Cause they live here-"
"I haven't seen them."
"..." That was a little more surprising, but just a little more. It still couldn’t mean anything... right?
"With all the shit you do, I would be surprised if you even saw them on a semi-regular basis." Jason crossed his arms, still not convinced — not entirely anyway. Yet Bruce could only exhale softly, the action bothering Jason even more.
"It's just a possibility. I'm trying to find them. Think you can help out?" Bruce clarified before asking. Additional help would definitely be great, especially because it meant that they could find you faster. He could find you faster.
"What makes you think I'm gonna do that?"
"Did know that Y/n wrote a song that's a tributed to you?"
"... What."
Bruce sighed, "You don't have to do it because I asked you to, or even because I want to find them. You can do it for yourself, Jason. But I'll leave that decision to you." Then, he just walked off to continue his search for you, and the other occupants of the Manor. Leaving Jason by himself, alone...
"That bitch-" Jason cursed under his breath as he walked off, deciding that he'll help look. Though only so he could ask you if Bruce was bullshiting him or not, and not for any other reason...
... Wait, you wrote songs? Like, actually?
Jason just shook his head, already upset enough as he shoved the thought to the side. When he found you he could ask, and how hard could that be? The Manor was only so big, and besides, you were just one person. He could probably find you before Bruce if he just looked in the right places, but the only thing now was finding those places...
Okay, so maybe he saw the problem, but still. This couldn't be too hard. You were the only one in the whole family who wasn't a vigilante, and so it was only about a matter of time.
Nevertheless, Jason began looking around as well, trying to figure out where he should look as he mindlessly checked every other room he came across. Where would you even go anyway? He'd probably check your room first but he figured that Bruce had already checked there, and it wasn't like Jason knew where your room even was. Though he just chalked that up to how infrequent his incredibly short visits were.
Still, he didn't even know where to start, and would rather avoid searching the entire Manor if he could. He tried to scratch his brain for anything but he just... had no idea.
Well, okay, he had one idea, but that was only because of one night. Even then he's still not sure it was you who he saw on the-
["Master Y/n? Are you alright?"]
Jason's thought process was cut off by a sudden voice. He immediately recognized it as Alfred's, and a realization hit him. Right! He should look for Alfred first, he'd know where you are. Alfred practically knew everything about everyone in the Manor, so he'd lnow something for sure.
So, he followed the sound until he stood in the doorway of one of the lounges. The television was on and playing some kind of recording, but Jason paid no mind to it.
Confused, Jason called out, "Alfred?"
When he didn't receive a response, he huffed as his eyes drifted to the television. What was playing, anyway?
You — a smaller, younger version of you — stood in a door way, looking out in the hall before turning back to the camera. Big, innocent eyes looking up. Looking at Jason.
You couldn't have been no older than eight or nine.
[You gave a little nod with a small hum, "I'm okay, Alfred. Just... waiting, like you said."]
A small, soft huff could be heard from the other end of the camera, and the camera moved to be placed down a counter of some kind. Which revealed Alfred to be the one having been recording everything so far.
["Yes, well. How about we do a little something while we wait, hm?" Alfred asked, moving a stool closer to the counter — moving the camera again to be placed on the kitchen isle this time.]
Ingredients and tools used for baking could be seem on the counter. The stool Alfred had place was next to where he was standing, and a good distance away from the stove.
[You looked at Alfred curiously, "What are we going to do?"]
["Oh, nothing too much, Master Y/n. But... I do require a bit of assistance baking this cake, that is if you'd like to help, of course." Alfred patted the top of the stool as he spoke, "Though you can always just watch, if you'd like."]
[You perked up at what Alfred said, climbing up onto the stool enthusiastically with a smile. "I wanna help!" You exclaimed, looking over the ingredients before looking back at Alfred, "But... what cake are we making?"]
[Alfred hummed, pretending to think before be looked back down at you, "Well, what kind of cake would you like, Master Y/n? It is your birthday after all."]
["Really?" When Alfred nodded, you gasped excitedly before suggesting your favorite flavor at the time.]
["Well then, let's get started, shall we?"]
From there, the rest of the recording was of you and Alfred baking. With Alfred helping you when he had to, and laughing lightly when you would inevitably make a mess.
Laughs and jokes were exchanged, and it was probably the happiest Jason has ever seen you... which made him feel weird in a way. He didn't like it, not one bit, and yet he continued to watch the old, wholesome memory play out before him.
Jason watched as you got a bit of flour on your nose and how Alfred wiped it off. He watched as while Alfred was deciding on the shape of the cake, you gathered all the different colors and types of sprinkles you could find, and was looking at a particular color of food coloring. How you nearly fell trying to grab the food coloring, and how Alfred just narrowly managed to catch you. How after that, Alfred visibly recovered from the near heart attack he had gotten from watching you fall, and just watched you add the food coloring to the frosting after you had thanked him for catching you, and apologized for falling.
... It got Jason thinking, if only a little bit.
He didn't know much about you, not really anyway. Even if his visits were few and far inbetween, not to mention incredibly short, someone would think that he'd catch onto a few things about you, or just generally have more interactions with you, but he didn't. All he really knew was that you knew how to play the violin really well, but that was assuming that who he saw that night really was you. Even if he doesn't know who else it'd be.
Jason still remembered that one occurrence despite how long it's been since then... but that was for a different time. He had to focus now, but he still couldn't help but watch the little version of you trying to frost the cake without being too messy, but failing miserably.
It did get him thinking about how many small moments he had missed with you, and just... how little time he had actually spent around you.
Obviously, you weren't a little kid anymore. After all, the last time he remembered seeing you — you were already a teenager. Though was that really a good thing? Jason did remember having some kind of interaction with you in the past... but it wasn't much of anything, and even then he probably forgot half of those moments. What definitely didn't help is that you both didn't have each other's phone numbers, and the only form of communication you had was seeing each other in person.
.... Okay, maybe this whole 'finding you' thing was definitely a lot harder than Jason had originally thought.
["... Are they going to come, Alfred?" You asked, sitting in front of the cake you and Alfred had just made together, looking up at the camera that Alfred was holding once again.]
[Alfred didn't respond right away, but did eventually say, "I'm afraid not, Master Y/n, but if you'd like we could wait a little longer."]
[You shook your head, looking at the cake before looking back at the camera, "It's okay. We can blow out the candles now, but..." you hesitated, looking down at the table, "could you... stay with me? Please?" You looked away, embrassed for asking but didn't take back what you said.]
[Again, a soft huff came from the other end of the camera. "Of course, Master Y/n."]
After a short happy birthday song, the camera was placed down on the table as Alfred cut the cake. It was only after Alfred had given both you and himself a slice did the footage cut out.
Nothing could describe the face you made when Alfred said that no one was coming. Just like how Jason couldn't even begin to describe what it made him feel.
Even when a new recording started, he could hardly pay attention to it as all he saw was your face staring up at the camera. Expression not necessarily sad or upset, but it was easily the most heartbreaking thing Jason had ever seen. A kid shouldn't have a face like that. You shouldn't have a face like that.
Jason was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even notice Cassandra trying to get his attention, nor did he feel her even pull on his sleeve. All he could think of was you, sitting at that table all by yourself. Alone.
He just turned the other way, practically stomping down the hall as he looked straight ahead, glaring.
He had to find you. Now.
Cass, on the other hand, was just confused. Watching as Jason stormed off before looking back at the recording that was playing on the television. What about it had made Jason sp upset? She didn't know, but she was a bit curious.
Bruce had already confronted her and asked her where you were, and of course she didn't know either. He did mention something about how Damian was trying to help a little, which was a surprise in itself, and how Jason might be trying to search for you too, and had asked her if she could do the same. She agreed, of course, just wanting to help out, but having run into Jason just now? That was... odd. Especially when he suddenly stormed off like that, but that wasn't her main focus right now. She still had to-
["Are you still trying to record this, Alfred?"]
Wait... was that your voice?
Cassandra turned back to the television, only to see the camera pointed towards the floor.
["Of course, Master Y/n. Just give me one moment, I almost have the camera set up."]
Oh, Alfred was there too? What was going on?
[Light laughter was heard before you spoke again, "Here, let me help you."]
The camera began to move, and as it paned up, there you were. A soft smile on your face, shining colored hues looking at the camera as you made a few more adjustments before stepping away.
Now, you definitely looked like a teenager or young adult. Voice more matured and settled, almost calm in a way.
["There. That should be good, what do you think?" You asked Alfred, tilting your head to the side a bit, most likely looking at the butler.]
["I have to agree, Master Y/n. Everything should be working properly." Alfred then came into frame, moving towards the counter as you moved around the kitchen isle to follow him. "Now, what is it that you wanted to make this year?"]
["Oh! Right, well..." and you told him, already grabbing a few necessarily ingredients from around the kitchen.]
It wasn't long before the two of you started baking again, but this time around you were clearly more experienced than your younger self — not that Cass was aware of that anyway. You both did your own parts, working exceedingly well together as the conversation between the two of you was nothing but natural.
Cass never saw you talk so naturally, or even knew you could bake, but there were a lot of things she didn't know about you.
She could see that in the footage, you were really relaxed and happy. Almost at ease as you skillfully moved about, as if knowing the necessary steps to make what you were hoping to bake by heart, and how you navigated the kitchen made it look as if you almost knew it as well as Alfred did. It was almost refreshing to see you just be so... in tune with your surroundings, and Cass almost wished she had been there to see you bake for herself. Though she could settle watching footage of you bake for now.
Even if she didn't know why you were even baking in the first place until Alfred mentioned something about a gift for your Birthday, and how that led you to talking about some of the things your friends had given you.
This was... your birthday? Just you and Alfred?
That didn't feel right... but then again, she didn't even know when your birthday was to begin with — and now that she thinks about, had you ever celebrated Christmas with everyone? As a whole family?
... She wasn't sure.
["Are you certain that you don't want to wait, Master Y/n? You never know, someone could show up this time." Alfred asked, looking at you with slight concern.]
[You only smiled, "I'm sure. Besides, even if any of them did come, we both know that it'd be on accident." You laughed lightly to yourself, looking down at the pastry both you and Alfred had made together. "I doubt they even know when my birthday is, but that's okay." You looked back at Alfred, your smile still happy but... there was something off with it.]
["I've told you before, haven't I? You're all the company I need in this house. I'm happy just spending my birthdays like this with you." You took a piece of the pastry and ripped it off before holding it in the air, as if doing a toast, and held it toward Alfred. "So, happy birthday to me?"]
[Alfred sighed softly, but could only smile as he took his own piece of the pastry, copying your actions as he held the piece toward you, "Happy birthday, Master Y/n."]
The footage cut right after, and suddenly Cass found herself in a similar position that Jason had been in just a few moments ago. Just staring at the screen, unsure what to do with this new information, the weight on her chest growing.
Had you really spent every birthday like that? If so... then why didn't you tell anyone? Or had you tried, only for nothing to come of it?
The thought alone hurt, strangely enough, and all Cass wanted to do was... well. She wasn't sure.
She wanted to do so many things, and yet she didn't know if anything would work. Or if anything she could do would fix... well, anything at all.
She wanted to try your baking and... and celebrate a birthday with you. Or maybe she just felt obligated to do so after having seen the recording, but a big part of her did mean it. Especially because she didn't want you to feel alone or anything ever again, not after seeing the extent it went to. Though perhaps there was some irony in that thought that Cass failed to realize.
Regardless, Cass found herself walking off too. Completely missing the figure who turned off the television, and unplugged the camera from it that held all of the footage both her and Jason were shown.
Cass was practically speed walking as she checked the library — remembering have seen glimpses of you in there before — while Jason checked the music room, only for both to turn up equally empty. Yet they kept looking. Everyone did.
Dick tried calling and texting you while trying to see if there was anywhere you could be outside of the Manor. Tim ended up helping as he ran into Dick, and was basically locating and tracking down all the places you've been to with the help of your notebooks and awards in your room. All the while listening to some very earlier pieces you've wrote and played on the mp3 player he found in your box.
Bruce was still looking all over the Manor for you, each minute that passed making him more paranoid and worried. What started as a small possibility was growing into a certainty and he did not enjoy that at all. Damian had decided to search for Alfred, since it seemed like the smartest choice if they wanted to end this quickly. Yet when he did find Alfred and asked him where you were, it turned out that Alfred didn't know where you were either.
While yes, he did know some of the teachers and coaches you've had in the past, he didn't know where you were at this exact moment. How could that be? It was simple, really.
Alfred hadn't seen you in a while either, and once that little piece of information spread around the family... what followed after could only be described as chaos.
The Manor was practically flipped upside down as Bruce, Damian, Jason, and Cass searched for you. Not a single room went unchecked, and when they still came out empty handed, their own worries began to fuel each others.
Dick was the first one to suit up and head out, already calling Barbara as night fell on Gotham, with Tim beginning to suit up — yet Jason had beat him to the punch and was out the second the Manor was cleared. Cass was next to follow, with Bruce and Damian not following too far behind. Tim only left after informing Stephanie — and after downloading some of your songs — and telling Alfred to keep a look out just in case you came back home.
In just a few hours, what started as an unusually uneventful and calm, quiet day for the family, quickly turned into one of the most panicked induced searches and painful night of their lives.
All because of you.
---------
You were tuning your guitar calmly, tapping your foot to the melody playing in your head as you hummed. The silence surrounding you was peaceful for a chance, and didn't feel suffocating or as unnerving as the silence in the Manor did.
Honestly, it took a bit of getting used to but after a few weeks you had grown to love it. Waking up everyday and having someone there to not only greet you, but actually acknowledge you also took a bit of getting used to, but you managed much more easily with that.
Sure, there were other things as well, but you eased into it and had come to accept these small things as just parts of your new life. Yet, you still found yourself appreciating and noticing the smallest things, and almost crying over them too.
It had been a few months since you had left the Manor, and honestly you couldn't be happier.
You now shared an apartment with one of your closets friends, and your career helped you cover your half of the rent, as well as other expenses. You had truly found comfort with this new lifestyle, and even if you'd like to move out of Gotham one day — you could settle for this for now.
This, you believed, was what peace truly felt like.
Even when your phone started to go off like crazy — you just took one look at who it was and rolled your eyes, putting your phone on silent as you placed it face down on the table in front of you. You didn't know what Dick and Tim needed so badly, but you were sure they'd be able to figure it out themselves. After all, they were the sons of the world's greatest detective, right? They could handle themselves.
So you just leaned back into your couch, sighing softly as you mindlessly strummed away at your guitar, smiling a little to yourself when the tune was just right. Creating a melody came all too naturally to you, and all you did was carry it on — humming softly as countless ideas filled your head. A small song beginning to form, even if unintentionally.
A song that went on — with the suffering of Gotham going on in the background. The city being cleared out and searched by the vigilantes that dared to protect it, all of it being done just to look for one person. You.
The shouts and screams served as the base, with the shattering of glass and bones being the lower kick, perhaps. The heart beat serving as the tempo, and so on.
So, just as you had years ago, you played on. Calm and happy in your own little world, unaware of the horrors to come — and destruction being made in your name.
–––––
Well, that's long, isn't it?
Might be making a another post that kind of details what some of the others did before everything went to hell? We'll see. Maybe.
Sorry again for any mistakes, especially towards the halfway point/end there.
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sammytheotakunerd · 19 days
Text
Welcome Home
Warnings: guns, kidnapping, mentions of drinking and being drunk, running away, a little bit of violence, let me know if I missed any :)
Pairings: Batfamily x batsis!reader
*not my gif*
Summary: You were the one to make the decision to run away all of those years ago, so you really have no one to blame but yourself for the situation you now find yourself in
A/N: This took me a long time- please let me know if you enjoy it
Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work
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You slowly opened your eyes with a muffled groan, your brain seemed to be trying to pound its way out of your skull.
When your eyes were finally able to squint open, you looked around, trying to assess your location because you didn’t remember the last thing that happened to you.
Your first guess was that you ended up going to a party and got blackout drunk, which would explain the headache and amnesia you were experiencing, until you realized that you were tied to a chair in an unfamiliar room.
Your eyes finally fully snapped open and your still throbbing head whipped around in a mix of utter confusion and fear. Your hands and feet were tied behind you so tightly that you could feel your circulation being cut off, and the piece of duct tape over your mouth was making it hard to breathe in your panicked state.
The room that you were in was dark except for what seemed to be a very bright spotlight shining directly at you. The room was big enough and ceilings were high enough to where you guessed that you were in some sort of warehouse.
“Oh good, she’s awake.” An unfamiliar man walked out from the shadows and into the light right in front of you, the smirk on his face sent shivers down your spine. “I was beginning to worry that my men had killed you.”
You only stared at him, eyes wide. Even if you wanted to say something, the large piece of tape over your mouth prevented you from doing so. If it wasn’t there though, you probably still wouldn’t have been able to say anything out of fear.
Then it all came back to you.
You had been out on a walk, trying to soak in the first spring days sunshine and warmth, when all of a sudden five men were blocking your path.
You could proudly say that you were able to fight four of them off before the fifth one snuck up behind you and knocked you out with something hard and heavy.
“I will admit though,” the creepy man continued, smiling a smile that made you want to cry from the sheer horror you were feeling, “You put up a very good fight…” he paused and no matter how much you wanted to, you couldn’t look away, “But I suppose being trained by Batman will do that for you.”
Whatever color had remained in your face had now been drained of it and your eyes went even wider.
He let out an evil chuckle, “Oh, or should I say Bruce Wayne?” He seemed to have been getting joy from the look on your face, “Oh yes, Miss. Wayne, I know all about your father. It’s not that hard to figure out really… but I won’t bore you with the details.”
The tape across your mouth was the only thing keeping your jaw from dropping.
It was true, you had been able to hold off those men because you were trained by Bruce, your father.
You had been a Batgirl, like all your sisters had been, after your mother dropped you off on Bruce’s front step, claiming that you were his daughter. Except you didn’t go on to become your own hero after Batgirl, you just went on.
You had moved on with your life when you realized that running around in a Halloween costume every night wasn’t the life for you. You could be so much more, do so much more.
Not to mention how bad the city of Gotham was. It was dirty, and always full of crime, and that was not the kind of place that you wanted to live your life.
You knew how much your family would protest if they had known that you planned to leave, your father, sisters, and brothers. But it wasn’t their decision, it was yours.
One night while you knew they would all be on patrol, you stayed home claiming not to feel well, then you deactivated all of the trackers that your father had on you and your things, and you left Gotham. Never looking back.
Of course you missed your family more than anything, but you couldn’t live the life that they lead any longer. For once in your life you did something for yourself without worrying about the effects that it had on the others.
When you left you changed your name to Y/n L/n to ensure that your family of detectives never found you.
You had left five years ago, leaving behind your two big brothers and two little brothers, and your sisters who all lived separately, to desperately want to know where you were and why you left them.
While you were away, you stayed away from any and all news that had to do with the city of Gotham, knowing that your family would always find a way to be on it. Whether it be for your siblings doing something stupid, your father donating to another charity, or just because they were the Waynes.
Either way, you knew that if you started watching it, you would get even more homesick and go back. Which was something you couldn’t do to yourself.
“And of course you’ll be wondering why you’re here now. But it’s a bit boring really, just a score to settle with your father” He continued after waving his hand dismissively, “See, I know that you tried to leave Gotham behind you all those years ago. And I also know that you have not seen your family in any of that time or had any form of contact with them… As far as they know, Miss. Y/n Wayne dropped off the face of the earth five years ago.”
Your heart dropped to your toes. No matter how he knew this, he was right. Your family didn’t know whether you were alive or dead.
When you left, some part of you must have subconsciously banished all thoughts like that from your head so you wouldn’t worry so much about it.
He strided over to you and quickly tore the piece of tape off of your mouth, ignoring the small yelp that you let out, “Anything you would like to say, Miss. Wayne?”
You paused, trying to find your voice, looking up at him before you finally asked quietly, “Where am I?”
Then, he grinned a grin to rival the Jokers, “Welcome back to Gotham, Miss. Wayne.”
-•-
“Okay, you remember your lines?” The man asked in a joking manner that was actually anything but that.
You stayed silent, only looking at him as he set up the camera in front of you, the piece of tape was back on your mouth, which is what made him think that his joke was the funniest thing ever.
This made his grin drop, “Smile.” He warned before turning the camera on with a click, the top corner lighting up red to prove it, you quickly dropped your head.
He walked in front of the camera and next to you and clapped his hands together in front of him before giving a goofy wave, “Hello there, Batman-or do you prefer to go by Bruce? I never know!”
You kept your eyes trained on the floor, remembering his plan that he told you. And to tryand make up for your scared and weak behavior before, you decided to do everything in your power to go against what he told you he wanted. And that started with not allowing yourself to look up.
-•-
Tim groaned, spinning in his chair slowly and lazily, his head lolled over the back as it gently rocked back in forth while he kept spinning.
Jason was cleaning his gun for the fifth time in twenty minutes.
Steph was hanging upside down on the couch, trying to hold her breath for longer than five minutes.
Barbra sat at the computer, playing a game of snake with her head resting in her hand.
Dick was playing with a soccer ball he found, kicking it off of the walls and trying to make it come back to him.
Cass sat in the center of the floor, silently meditating with her legs crossed and arms gently resting against them.
Damain was gently trying to teach Bat Cow how to speak, by using simple words like ‘imbecile’ and ‘absurd’.
Even Bruce was there, sitting in a chair in front of one of the computers, tossing his cowl in the air and catching it again.
To say that it had been a slow night would be an understatement.
All of them had been patrolling for about five hours with absolutely nothing happening, not even any jaywalking.
It was like all of the crime in the city of Gotham packed up and moved out over the course of a day.
Don’t get them wrong, it’s not like they actually wanted there to be crimes going on, but when it didn’t they were forced to sit in the Batcave and be bored out of their minds.
“Okay,” Bruce said, finally standing up, “I think we can call it a-“
He got cut off by a loud beeping coming from the tv, causing all of the vigilantes in the room to jump at least a foot in the air.
An image popped onto the screen showing an incoming video.
Barbra furrowed her eyebrows, knowing that the only people that could do that to the bat computer also have their phone numbers so they wouldn’t need to do that.
Her and Bruce exchanged a look before he nodded, letting her know to let the video go through.
A grinning face of an unfamiliar man popped onto the screen, making everyone in the room quickly stop whatever they were doing and run over and crowd around the screen.
“Is it-“ Bruce started.
“Yes,” Babs cut him off, furiously typing away while trying to figure out where this video was coming from and how it got on their screen, “It’s live.”
“Can he-“
“No,” she cut him off again, “He can’t see us.”
“Hello there, Batman-“ The man then paused and laughed maniacally to himself, “Or do you prefer to go by Bruce? I never know!” He threw his hands up innocently.
“Wh-how?” Jason stuttered out, only to be shushed by six other people.
He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, “Fine, a random stranger knows the old man's identity, excuse me for worrying.”
Everyone ignored him though and tried to lean impossibly closer to the screen.
“I suppose that you’ll be wondering why I’m talking to you, though.” He continued, “Well it goes like this,” his smile dropped, “I have a score to settle with you. My father is in Arkham because of you, and I want my revenge.”
Jason squinted, “He does look kind of like Bane, come to think of it.”
He was once again shushed though.
His smile once again returned, “So, I sat and started thinking to myself: hmmm, how do you get revenge on vengeance himself?” He put a hand to his chin and pretended to think, then held up a finger as if a lightbulb went off. “The answer was simple, of course. Take the person he loves most.”
Dick looked down at himself and patted his stomach, “Nope, I think I’m still here. This guy is wack, B.”
“Shh!” Jason shushed him childishly as their other siblings glared at Dick threateningly and Cassandra smacked his arm.
“And of course by now you’ll be wondering what I mean by that.” His voice now turned a pitch higher, “All of your children are with you, are they not? And your butler is upstairs cleaning the floor of mud!”
Everyone seemed to pale slightly, because it was true.
Just a couple of moments ago, Alfred had come into the batcave and scolded all of them for tracking mud through the house. He then proceeded to tell them that he would be cleaning it up for now, but next time it happened he would be making them clean it up.
The man, who the family was beginning to grow very annoyed with, fake gasped, “But how could you forget? After all this time, how could you forget who you miss more than anyone in the world, Brucie old boy?”
Bruce’s eyes widened, and his mouth opened a little bit as his children slowly started coming to the same realization as him, “No.” He whispered out in horror, his wide eyes never leaving the screen.
“In case you’re feeling a little slow today, Batsy, I’ll let you in on a little secret,” he leaned closer to the camera and started whisper yelling, “Her name is Y/n Wayne.”
Right no cue he moved out of the way and showed your tied up form.
Barbra, Dick, and Tim each let out a gasp.
Jason, Bruce, Damain, and Cass stared at the screen with wide, unbelieving eyes.
Steph, who was still holding her breath, finally released it and fell into a coughing fit. Cass was the only one who seemed to notice, and reached over to pat the blonds back, not even taking her eyes away from the screen.
The man looked back at you and a hard look came over his face, “I told you to smile for the camera.”
He quickly reached back and yanked your head up by the hair, causing you to let out a yelp of pain, which was muffled slightly by the piece of tape that was still over your mouth.
Everybody who was watching clenched their hands as their faces hardened as they watched him do that.
It was you.
After all these years it was you.
And they had no idea where you were.
Right away, Tim pushed everyone out of the way and immediately jumped into the other chair at the desk and began furiously typing away at a different computer, as Babs did the same at her own computer.
“Hurry up.” Jason said gruffly, tightly gripping his gun, and this time nobody shushed him.
The man still held a hard glare on his face as he looked down at you and sneered.
Your wide eyes finally found the camera, where you now knew, or were at least told, that your family was watching.
“Found her!” Tim and Barbra pretty much screamed at the exact same time, Tim quickly standing up and Barbra continued to type away.
Everyone looked to Bruce, who was yet to take his eyes away from you, waiting for instructions.
Jason looked like he was about to march out of the cave by himself to go find you before his adopted father finally spoke, this time as Batman, not Bruce, “Spoiler, Orphan, Red Robin, the three of you will hold off any guards that will most likely be there,” He knew that you wouldn’t have gone down without a fight, and that the one guy in front of him wasn’t enough to do that.
He continued once the three nodded, “As for Robin, Red Hood, and Nightwing, you will all come with me to where that psychopath is holding…” His authoritative voice faltered, “Where he’s holding Y/n.”
Once everyone nodded, he continue, “Oracle, you’ll hack into the cameras and let us know what’s going on.”
She nodded as well and everyone began getting ready.
Each of them secretly took a deep breath to try and prepare themselves for what was to come.
Soon enough, but what seemed like hours to them, Bruce was in the batmobile with Damain, Tim, and Dick. Jason was on his motorcycle while Steph and Cass shared one of their own.
“Not much is happening.” The redhead informed them from her wheelchair in the cave, “He’s rambling about how you put his father in the asylum, B… n/n seems fine for now.”
That seemed to make everyone feel the tiniest bit better.
“…father?” Damain hesitantly asked from the back, his voice uncharacteristically soft. Bruce hummed in acknowledgment, not taking his eyes away from the street he zoomed down, “Will L/n be joining us back at the manor?”
Bruce didn’t respond, instead pressed the gas pedal even harder, the silence deafening.
All they could do for now was hope and pray that you held out for just a little bit longer.
-•-
You had long since tuned out your kidnapper who was rambling about one thing or another.
Your mind was elsewhere, wondering about if your family was actually watching this right now.
You also knew that if they were, then they would’ve found where you were a while ago, they did have Babs and Tim after all.
But then you were struck with a horrible thought. One that made your heart squeeze in your chest until it felt like it was killing you.
What if they weren’t… there anymore?
What if after all this time away, something horrible happened to any one of them?
Something that they couldn’t walk away from?
And then it was like another sharp knife was lodged into your chest, what if they didn’t want to come?
You were, after all, the one who left. Without telling anybody or giving them any reason.
You hadn’t even tried to reach out to them for all of those years.
Those thoughts made you so sick to your stomach that you were half debating vomiting on your psychotic kidnapper if you could somehow get the tape off of your mouth
Just as you were about to explore that thought more, the sound of screaming followed closely by an explosion was heard throughout the room, causing you and the still unnamed man to snap your heads in the direction of where you thought the door was.
The man smirked, “Here they come.” He said in a singsong voice.
He began to make his way back into the shadows, and right before he did so you noticed him grab something out of his pocket.
A gun.
You paled even more as he disappeared from sight.
But of course it wasn’t you that you were worried about, it was whoever was causing all of the chaos outside.
The sliver of hope that you felt that your family would come disappeared. And now it was replaced with the selfish hope for it to be anyone but your family out there. Anyone but them.
You didn’t know if that was just because of the gun, or because you also didn’t want them to confront you about leaving.
The sound of a door being kicked open banged through the room, cutting through the silence like a knife.
You looked up and glared against the bright light that still beat down on you relentlessly.
The sound of multiple footsteps running your way were heard.
-•-
Steph, Tim, and Cass were doing their job of holding off all of the guards so that Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Damain could all slip into the room that Barbra told them you were in.
They didn’t know how the three distractions were able to cause an explosion, but they also learned a long time ago not to question what happened when those three were around.
Once they got to the door that Oracle led them to, Jason kicked the it in with more force than necessary, especially considering it was unlocked, which no one even made fun of him for this time. Their minds were all elsewhere.
They all quickly ran into the room, and it didn’t take long before their eyes landed on you for the first time in five years, that wasn’t through a camera.
You had clearly heard them, but all the bright lights surrounding you made it impossible to see into the darkness around you.
As they ran towards you they noticed things that they had been too shocked to see while watching the video.
Your hair was a tangled mess, revealing that it hadn’t been brushed in a while, so who knows how long you had been here before the video was taken.
You also had a dark bruise around one of your eyes, and the way you were leaning over, they figured you were injured on your ribs too.
Both of those things made their jaws clench even tighter.
Your eyes widened from their glaring position as soon as they came bounding into the light.
-•-
They had changed so much.
So much, yet you knew who was who right away.
Call it sisterly/ daughterly instinct.
Your father had his suit upgraded, probably by either Alfred or Babs.
Dick had also had his suit upgraded, and it was no longer that old time disco one that you would always tease and make fun of him for.
Damain had grown taller, and had more muscle than last time, which only proved how much he aged since the last time you had seen him.
And though Jason had a new suit, and probably hero name, altogether, you automatically knew that it was your big brother, even though he as well had grown and gained more muscle.
They slowed to a stop in front of you, and time seemed to freeze for a moment as you all looked at one another, taking each other in.
Dick was the first one to snap out of his daze and quickly rushed over to you, pulling you into a hug that you couldn’t recouparte due to your hands still being tied behind you.
“I missed you so much.” He whispered in your ear so only you could hear.
As much as you wanted to say something, tell him that you missed him more than he would ever know, you again couldn’t.
He saw this and quickly reached up and ripped off the duct tape, wincing and apologizing as you flinched.
You looked behind your eldest brother to see Bruce open his mouth and was about to say something, but you quickly cut him off, “He’s still in this room.”
Although it felt like you had just used your voice moments ago to ask where you were, your voice was still scratchy and hoarse as if it hadn’t been used in days.
The men quickly put their guard back up and drew their weapons. Damain with a katana, Dick with two batons, Bruce with a batarang (which you had amazingly named all those years ago), and Jason with a gun.
You had no idea how the last one got past Bruce, but at the moment you weren’t really complaining.
The sound of a gun cocking, that wasn’t Jasons, filled the vast room, bouncing off the walls, making it impossible to tell which direction it was coming from.
Damain quickly rushed to join Dick with standing next to you, sword raised and ready to fight at any given second.
The sound of the man's laughter filled the room, “You think you can protect her? Even if you could, you think she wants your protection?” He was trying to mess with their heads, “SHE was the one who left, after all. Without giving you a reason, much less a goodbye.”
Even with the cowl on, it was clear that Bruce’s eyes were ablaze in rage.
He then stepped out of the shadows, gun raised and pointed straight at Bruce. “While you spent years looking for her, she spent years trying to not be found, running away. Have you ever stopped to ask yourself why that was?”
-•-
Of course he had asked himself it it.
He’s thought about it every day for five years.
Wondering what he did wrong, what led you to run away without any explanation.
He beat himself up over it for years, completely heartbroken by your leaving, as he knew his other children were as well.
Right now though, as he stared down the barrel of the gun, all he could think about was that he just got you back. And he wasn’t going to let you go. He would protect you and the rest of his kids until his dying day, even if that day was today.
Bruce hadn’t even meant for his silence to be the answer to the man's question, but he was grinning, as if he won the lottery, “So it’s true then? I could only assume that she hadn’t told you she was leaving, but you just confirmed it for me.”
Bruce glanced back at you, but your eyes were trained on the man holding the gun, as if willing him and the gun to burst into flames with just the glare on your face.
He looked at his sons, hard looks on their faces, ready for anything that might come their way, then back to his daughter, and made a decision.
He stepped closer to the gun.
-•-
Your eyes widened as you watched your dad step closer to the psychopath holding the gun right at him.
“You have absolutely no right to talk to me about MY children.” He said, his voice never once wavering.
The man just laughed for what felt like the millionth time, “And you had no right to lock my father away. It is because of YOUR actions Bruce that led me to do this. And in front of your children nonetheless! So don’t forget, children, this is your fathers-“
He cut himself off as his eyes rolled back and he slowly fell forwards before landing in a heap on the ground.
Steph, Cass, and Tim all stood behind the man, the blonde one holding a pipe.
She rolled her eyes, discarding it to the side after hitting him on the back of the head with it, “He talks too much.”
The trio's eyes then landed on you and you all once again fell into a silence, staring at each other.
You cleared your throat, “Look, I know I have a lot of explaining to do, but-“
This time, you were the one being cut off, but not because of a pipe.
Bruce had barreled towards you and brought you into his arms in a bone crushing grip, hugging the life out of you.
You stumbled a bit, eyes wide, before hesitantly wrapping your arms around your father once you were sure that it was actually happening.
“Dad-“ You let out a sob, eyes filling with tears.
“Shh.” He shushed you, “It’s okay.”
Soon enough, Cass joined the hug, quickly followed by Dick, and then everyone else.
You stood there, embracing your family for the first time in five years, all of you with tears running down your faces for different reasons.
“Come on. I called Gordon and he’s outside ready to take this man to Arkham” Bruce said softly, pulling away after what seemed like hours of hugging, “Let’s get you back home and then we can talk.”
You smiled with still tears eyes, “Home. I like the sound of that.”
-•-
As soon as you stepped out of the batmobile and into the batcave, Barbra and Alfred were waiting for you.
The woman quickly rolled over to you and pulled you into a hug before letting Alfred bring you into a gentle one.
You pulled away, looking over at every single member of your family, who all looked back at you with smiles.
“Welcome home, Miss. Wayne.” Alfred said with a small smile.
And this time those words didn’t send shivers down your spine like they had when the man said them to you just earlier that day.
“So,” Dick piped up after a moment of comfortable silence, “What’s this I hear about Y/n being your favorite, Bruce?”
A/N: Should I write a part two following the aftermath of this one?
Next part here —> Now That You’re Home
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sammytheotakunerd · 19 days
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Inspired by this video 💀
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sammytheotakunerd · 19 days
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Tim: Hey, do you know the password to Damian’s computer?
Duke: Fuck you, Tim.
Tim: Hey!!
Duke: No, you misunderstood, the password is "fuckyouTim".
Tim: Oh, no numbers? Not very safe.
Reader: Get on my level!
Steph: Unfortunately, to "get on your level" I'd need a boat trip to the Mariana Trench and a pair of cinderblock shoes.
*Dick is fighting a monster*
Barbara : Just stay calm! You already have everything you need to beat it!
Dick: The power to believe in myself!?
Barbara : No, a knife! Stab it!
Reader: Sorry I'm late, I was doing stuff.
Jason: YOU PUSHED ME DOWN THE FUCKING STAIRS!
Damian: Tim, this morning, I called you abhorrent and reprehensible, and I’d like to withdraw that statement-
Tim: Aww, thanks-
Damian: But I can't. Those are the 2 words that best describe you.
Reader: So, Steph is no longer allowed to take the trash out at night.
Cassandra: Why?
Reader: Because I've caught her trying to train raccoons to fight five times in a row.
Steph, arms crossed and pouting: You'll be thanking me when the third raccoon battalion saves your ass.
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sammytheotakunerd · 19 days
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damian wayne doesn’t necessarily wear jewelry that often — only a few necklaces and rings could be seen on him, of the highest quality as well; him wearing a friendship bracelet is quite a surprise.
they were made by you of course, since you’re quite literally the only person he associates himself with at school willingly. you’ve known each other for quite some time now, so why not get matching bracelets to symbolize that?
“That’s a stupid idea.”
“You’re a stupid idea,” you retort.
he merely rolls his eyes, “I don’t need a silly bracelet to show that I’m friends with you, we don’t need something like that for people’s approval.”
“It’s not for other people,” you explain, “It’s for my own entertainment and for you — a gift.”
“Fine, you can make us one.”
in all honesty, he was expecting something simple for the bracelets. something just like each others names on them, not—
“Pissbaby?” his eye twitches.
“Don’t worry, mine says ‘Bitch,’” you reply nonchalantly.
“This has to be against dress-code.”
“We have long sleeves for a reason.”
he sighs, “My siblings are gonna drag me through the mud for this.” despite his words spitting venom, he still lets the elastic wrap around his wrist fitting comfortably and snugly.
“Hah, Pissbaby.”
“Bitch.”
“Your dad’s a whore.”
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sammytheotakunerd · 19 days
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YN: When I said "Bring me back something from the beach" I meant, like, a seashell.
Jason, struggling to hold a seagull: Well, you didn't fucking say that.
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sammytheotakunerd · 19 days
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Batfam x reader incorrect quotes:
Damian: And I’d love to be sorry for that, but we all know I’ve done much, much worse.
Bruce, in a meeting: My policy is if you see something, say something. You: I saw a squirrel in a tree today! Bruce, with the tone of someone who is used to You: Outstanding. You: This is what I’m talking about people.
Tim: You're the love of my life and my best friend, I would do anything for you. You: I want you to eat three meals a day and have a decent sleep schedule. Tim: Absolutely not.
You: Do you have any skeletons in your closet? Damian: You mean literally or figuratively? You: Honestly, the fact that I have to specify...
Damian: God, give me patience. Tim: I think you mean 'give me strength'. Damian: If God gave me strength, you'd be dead.
You: I've already sent good vibes your way… they’re coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop them. Jason: This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.
You: What if the 'g' in 'gif' is silent? Damian: Go the fuck to sleep You: What gif I don't want to? Damian: Fuck You
Bruce: I actually have a black belt. You: In what, karate? Bruce: No, from Gucci.
You: Date someone who will drag you outside at 3am to look at the stars. Damian: If anyone, and I mean anyone, wakes me up at 3am to go look at the damn sky they will be removed indefinitely from my life.
You: That’s one of my biggest fears. Like, if I ever woke up as a donut... Dick: You would eat yourself? You: I wouldn’t even question it.
Tim: Do you think you’d actually notice if someone didn’t cast a shadow? Or if their limbs were just slightly too long? Or if they had just a little too many teeth? like how many times have you passed Something on the street and you just didn’t Notice It? You: Stay woke monsterfuckers ur love is out there!!!!! Tim: Yknow what? Not my point at all in any way whatsoever, but I’m glad I could be an inspiration.
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sammytheotakunerd · 19 days
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Y/N: We need to get through this locked door. Bruce, give me your credit card.
Bruce: Here.
Y/N, pocketing it: Thanks. Jason kick down the door.
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sammytheotakunerd · 19 days
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now that the yandere!batfam has surveillance on you pretty much 24/7, you're taken care of almost everyday. not that you know of, of course.
it took some time getting used to the flowers being delivered to you every couple weeks, but you did appreciate the food getting delivered when you didn't have enough in your fridge.
you're fully aware that the person (or people) sending these to you could be dangerous, but you tried to rationalise it. they apparently already have your address, so if they wanted you dead then they could've finished the job by now.
besides, what harm can a few flowers bring? aside from complete invasion of your privacy through the form of tiny surveillance microphones (which, again, you did not know of).
sometimes, you'd find affectionately written letters. well, letters is an overstatement, they're more similar to notes. the men knew not to leave too many clues that could give them away. they're nothing if not very thorough.
"eat your dinner, beloved. i know it is your favourite."
in elegant handwriting— sharp cursive. very slightly italicised.
"keep smiling, sunshine."
this one was still neatly written in print, but softer and rounder than the last note.
"good luck on your presentation today, y/n."
messier, almost rushed, but not what you'd call chicken scratch. familiar.
"hope you're taking care of yourself, beautiful."
this person had neater handwriting than the last two, though not as elegant as the first note. it seemed gentle, as if the person writing had much respect for the pen and paper.
if not flowers or food, they're small thoughtful gifts.
you'd once found a book on your nightstand; a book that you've been eyeing for the past week or so, but restrained yourself from getting as you've been saving up recently.
it had another small note attached to it, "here, you deserve it."
you should be scared— terrified, even. you should be reporting this to the cops, but what good are gotham's cops anyway?
at some point, you started finding these notes endearing. it's obvious they wouldn't do anything to you, at least not yet, so why stop them? not that you could, if you tried.
these strangers, you've come to realise, are simply looking out for you. taking care of you, when you forget to do it yourself.
the boys, whether through your window or through their cameras, would find you smiling to yourself when you receive one of their gifts.
it only motivates them to do more.
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another yandere batfam installment woooop !!! can you guess which boy wrote which note? :⁠^⁠) p.s bruce hadn't left you a note this time ^^" sorry :⁠,⁠-⁠)
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sammytheotakunerd · 19 days
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The Family Meet and Greet
Damian Wayne x Reader
Request/Summary: Hey hun! I wanted to send in a request for Damian Wayne x reader. Maybe reader being introduced to the family/the family finding out about them?
A/n: Honestly I can’t tell if the picture is Tim or Damian.
Masterlist - Tip Jar
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Damian is a pretty private person and doesn’t intend to do an awkward meet and greet with his beloved girlfriend.
He knew that all of his family members would find out one way or another anyway.
Dick Grayson:
It wouldn’t take a genius detective to know that Damian is asking for advice for his love life.
Damian sits in his hero costume, hunched over as his legs dangle over the side of the building. His eyes evade Dicks, a red hue spreading across the tips of his ears.
A soft smile embellishes Dicks lips as he sees his younger brother whom is typically egocentric, now looking timid and shy for the first time ever.
“So my friend started seeing someone recently and he had this dilemma on if he should keep seeing her or not because on one hand he has all this baggage he doesn’t want to burden her with and on the other hand he just can’t bring himself to break things off with her.”
“So this girl your seeing-“ Damian’s eyes bulge, snapping his neck towards Dick, acting too defensively.
“Ugh, are you not listening Grayson? I said it’s about my friend.”
“Right, right, I forgot. My bad…” Dick think’s carefully on his words. “Sounds like your friend is a classic over-thinker. Relationships are far from logical, it’s all based on feelings. It might be hard for your friend, but just enjoy it for what it is.” Damian sits and stares off over the Gotham skyline looking unconvinced. “Look Dames, there is no right answer. Just do what feels right.”
Leaning back into his palms he stares in amusement at his beloved younger brother continues pining in anguish.
“So… how long do we keep pretending that we aren’t talking about you? Can I see a picture?” Damian rolls his eyes with a sigh, sliding his phone out of his pocket, he taps on the screen silently before shoving his phone into Dicks hands.
There laid the image a happy couple. Damian’s arms wrapped around your shoulder. The dark city filtering behind the brightly lit couple, forever captured in permanent laughter.
Dick, initially keen to tease the cheesy photo before him, now silent in pure aw to see the genuine smile, Damian’s eyes lit in adoration.
“Do not tell anyone Grayson. I will share the news when I am ready.”
Tim Drake:
The little rat has been acting rather odd.
Tim tried talking about it to Dick but he just kept evading his questions by pathetically redirecting his attention with someone else’s random drama.
They’re both acting weird and secretive, and there is no way Tim is going to be kept out of such an intriguing mystery.
Usually Tim would just stalk his targets, but this is Damian we are talking about. It is incredibly difficult, if not impossible to track Damian without him noticing. Starting with Damian’s social media, Tim pin points all of the photo locations and begins to visit each site one at a time. He hacks the local cameras and reviews the footage from around the date the photo was uploaded.
Low and behold, footage of Damian smooshing his face into another ladies face….
Whelp, Tim was certainly not expecting to see such a DISGUSTING display of affection. YUCK.
He didn’t even know the rat could even feel those types of feelings.
Tim, now laying on his bed cuddled up to a pillow is looking… traumatised.
Sometimes, it’s better just not to know.
Barbara Gordon
No freaking way.
Barbara could not believe her very eyes.
When completing a Internet background check on the Wayne family to scrub any suspicious allegations or accusations, Babs found the Holy Grail of finds.
An account with a mysterious woman with months worth of photos with the Wayne’s local angsty brat, Damian Freaking Wayne.
When completing a generic photo match search. Lovey, dovey poses with Damian and a girl by the name Y/n flashed up on the screen.
This is juicy! To tell Bruce or not to tell Bruce, that is the question.
Jason Todd
Disgusting. Absolutely foul.
It’s a random Tuesday evening when Jason jumps roof tops only to discover a couple making out all hot and heavy.
Their bodies tangling together as the man rips his shirt off. The girl sliding her hands along his abdomen before landing on his belt buckle.
The man then slides his hands from the back of her neck to her ass, giving it a needy grope before sliding his hands to the back of her thighs, lifting the woman with ease and pressing her against the wall.
This is hilarious, they have no idea Gothams most infamous Vigilante has caught them about to get down and dirty on Gothams roof top.
Jason sat down and ate his figurative pop-corn in humourous delight, until his eyes adjust.
“Ain’t no FUCKING way!” Jason yells, humours delight now churning into a disturbed nausea. He swallowed the bile raising up in his throat.
Pulling out his phone he calls Damian. Panting breaths filter through the phone, only furthering Jason’s disgust.
“What?! I’m in the middle of-“
“I know what your in the middle of you sick bastard! Take it indoors!” The line goes quite for just a moment. “Little freak, your family patrols the roof tops you know, ugh, I can’t - I’m having a flash back to Selina and Bru- ugh I’m gonna vomit.”
Duke
“Finally!” Duke announces, hoping over the back of the couch and sprawling out on the soft cushions of the plush couch. Without a second to spare Duke switches the TV on to watch the latest episode of his favourite show.
“Thomas-“
“No talking!” Duke wholesomely announces, crossing his arms over his chest.
“My phone… forget it.” Damian grumbles, seeing Dukes eyes glued to the TV. Squishing further into the cushions, Duke feels the uncomfortable poke of a hard object pressing into his rib.
Wrenching the wretched object from its place, Duke holds a phone. His haphazard fingers pressing into the screen which lights up and shows the text of a person named Y/n.
Y/n: Can’t wait for our date tonight, I miss your handsome face xx
Dukes cheeks heats up, seeing a private message he shouldn’t have seen. Damian is incredibly private and may murder Duke for accidentally learning something he wasn’t suppose to.
Wiping any evidence of his fingers touching the phone Duke places the phone back between the cushions.
Best if he just abandons his show for now for a tactical retreat.
Bruce Wayne
God, why are his kids so weird?
Seriously? Out of all 20 of them, not a single one was normal…
Sitting at the head of the dinner table, he watches his children talk amoungst themselves in weird cryptic speeches.
“Do you know what I know?” Tim asks intensely, the broccoli wedged on his fork, pointing at Dick, who stares back wide-eyed.
“I don’t know anything … why what do you know?” Dick says scanning the rest of the room to see if they somehow knew what Dick was referring to.
“I can’t share what I know, but just know it. Is. Juicy.” Babs announces with a sly and taunting grin.
“I don’t know anything, I didn’t even want to see it. Oh god, I’m feeling queasy.” Jason says crossing his arms over his stomach.
“IDidntSeeAnythingEither.” Duke announces quickly, and begins to quickly Hoover his dinner.
Damian sighs, massaging his temples at his idiotic siblings.
“So I take it that you have all found out about Y/n?” Bruce asks calmly, slowly sawing into the plump steak on his plate.
The room falls dead silent as all heads turn towards Bruce, surprised that he knew and surprised that he had the guts to say what everyone else was thinking.
“Father, how do you know about Y/n?”
“… I’m Batman.”
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sammytheotakunerd · 20 days
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This series made me cry too many times😭
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Connection Interference (Part 10)
Damian Wayne x Fem! Reader
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your father was dead. Your injuries were healing. Everyone had visited you at least once now and yet Damian couldn’t seem to pull himself from the darkness he’d created for himself. A month had passed since that fateful night and nobody dared to speak of it in Damian’s presence, he was deteriorating from lack of self care and depression. Revenge had been served but the bond was severed, it felt like Damian had lost you twice in the same night. His brothers and sisters tried their best to keep him positive and healthy but his heavy heart refused to let him enjoy a shred of normalcy without its soulmate.
The Bat Clan were all gathered in the library, speaking their minds on Damian’s current state. Everyone was on edge, afraid and worried for the youngest Wayne. Opinions clashed, voices began to rise, emotions sparked and filled the room with a thick aura of insecurity.
“We have to do something, he’s getting weaker by the day.”
“What can we do? He doesn’t listen to any of us and he locks himself up at the office for days on end.”
“(Y/n)’s been begging to see him, we have to take him to her.”
“No it’s to soon, what if it makes things worse?”
Dick, being the oldest of the siblings, stood up and ordered everyone to silence themselves, “Damian is literally dying from heartbreak. (Y/n) is the only one who can fix this, they need each other. If she’s ready to be discharged from the hospital than I think it’s time to bring her home.”
Bruce nodded his head in agreement, “They need each other, its time that we brought those two souls back together.”, he added, hands resting over his cane.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
With his body on autopilot, Damian slugged through life unable to handle the heartache of losing his bond to you. He was miserable and afraid, unsure of what his future would hold without you in it. He couldn’t handle the pressure anymore, he couldn’t handle work, he couldn’t handle being a hero, he couldn’t handle being alone after finally getting you back. Kayla had tried to talk him into visiting you but he just couldn’t do it, something in his overworking mind kept telling him that you hated him. Damian was losing himself and he wasn’t sure he could win this battle.
“I-Mr. Wayne…there’s someone here to see you.”, Claire announced at the office door.
“Not now. I already told you no business meet-“
The door to his office slammed open revealing the vile woman who took you from him. His cold emerald eyes instantly melted into an angry glare as the elderly woman made her way to his desk.
“My my my, such a shame to see you like this Mr. Wayne. I apologize for failing to announce my arrival but you were ignoring my emails for a formal meeting.”, she chuckled, taking a seat right in front of him.
“What are you doing here? I’m not exactly in the mood to argue with my competitor about any-“
She raised her hand up to silence him which only made him angrier. “About that I have a proposition for you. I will sign over my business to you, Wayne Industries will be the titan of technological development throughout the world with the merging of our companies.”, Gloria Fallon smiled confidently to her bargaining chip on the table.
Damian wasn’t amused, although lost in his battle against his mental health he knew that she was scheming something. “What’s your take from this deal? Business isn’t made without taking risks, what am I losing if I say yes?”, he growled paying attention to her body language.
She flashed him an overly confident smile and said, “You marry my granddaughter and the Fallon corporation is all yours.”
Damian’s body boils over, his hands slam against his desk in a fit of rage. You’d warned him that this woman is evil but he didn’t think she was this evil!
“I have (Y/n)! I will not marry your delusional granddaughter for your crumbling business.”, Damian roared, ready to throw this old witch out of the window.
Gloria chuckled at his rage and snapped her fingers to get his attention, “I think you should reconsider, you wouldn’t want your precious (Y/n) getting hurt at the hospital now would you?”, she warned watching Damian deflate and focus on the situation at hand.
“Are you threatening my soulmate?”, he growled, “This isn’t a war you want to fight Mrs. Fallon.”
Gloria stands up, walking to the large windows to gaze over the city, “Her imbecile of a father failed to kill her as I asked but I have people at my disposal that have other means of taking her out. (Y/n) is a stain, a parasite ruining my family bloodline. You deserve better Mr. Wayne and I’m sure that you’ll have better with my oth-with my real granddaughter. If you wish to keep (y/n) safe I suggest you make the right choice, cut her out and move on.”
Damian’s instincts are urging him to kill this witch before him but he’s glued to the floor. Body heavy with fear and guilt, mind reeling with thoughts he shouldn’t be having. This was a horrible idea and yet he found himself agreeing with it, as long as he could keep you safe he’d do anything.
“Habibti please forgive me.”, he whispers to himself.
By the end of this week Damian will share a meal with his arranged wife in order to protect the woman who owns his heart.
~~~~~~~~~~
Gloria rode away in her limo, staring out at the people and cars that zipped by her. A sense of pride and victory blossoming in her heart, her methods were cruel but this ensured a bright future for her darling Granddaughter. The heiress to her perfect business and fortune, she just had to get rid of you. It was easy to track down what hospital you were in and even easier to pay off a crooked nurse to kill you off.
“Ma’am there’s a phone call for you.”, her driver announced.
She rolled her eyes noticing the name of the poor fool she’d paid off to kill you. She was expecting good news, already plotting to use this man as an escape goat if he dared to turn on her.
“Speak and be quick I have a meeting in twenty minutes.”
“My apologies but your granddaughter has already been discharged from the hospital. I was just going in to inject the poison into her IV line but she was already gone.”
Gloria feels her blood pressure rise alongside her bubbling rage. “Pardon me? Are you trying to say that you failed the simplest task I ever could’ve given you? (F/n) (L/n) is the most irrelevant woman to walk the planet how could you just let her walk out of the hospital alive?!”, she roared into her phone.
Her would-be assassin tries to defend himself with poor excuses but that only irritates her more. Gloria hangs up out of frustration and throws her phone at the seats beside her. She talks a big game but her wealth is dwindling fast, her company isn’t making profits and even her shady side business is failing to make money. Without fail she must ensure that this upcoming date goes well even if Damian doesn’t want it. She’d have to deal with your sudden disappearance another day, for now she had to prepare her precious granddaughter for her date.
“Nancy will marry into the Wayne Family, she’ll be set for life and that Wayne bastard will be nothing but a puppet for her to control.”, Gloria sighed, lighting herself a cigarette to enjoy, “No one will ruin this, nobody can get in my way for control of Gotham.”
The gorgeous velvet colored roof of the limo was all her dazed eyes could see, smoke and nicotine filling the space as the cigarette burned between her fingers. A dark chuckle rises up from her chest, “What good are soulmates anyways, marriage is a business contract and thats all.”
Within the hour Gloria arrives home to tell her darling granddaughter that her dream would soon come true. Nancy is over the moon, squealing with excitement and rambling about all the things she’ll buy with her newfound wealth. She goes shopping the same day to find the perfect dress for the occasion and picks a very high class restaurant that doesn’t really meet Damian’s dietary needs but she doesn’t care. Days pass and soon it’s the night of his date.
“Damian you don’t have to go. (Y/n)’s been dying to see you, just come visit her instead.”, Dick tries to persuade his little brother with a gentle tone.
Damian’s body is stiff and rigid, he doesn’t want to go but he has to for your safety, “It’s just a date Grayson, nothing more.”
“Damian you hate that restaurant. You don’t even want to go, just stay here.”, Tim chimes in, anger written all over his face.
Damian turns at glares at his brothers, he’s miserable, acting more like a soldier then himself. They’re right, he doesn’t want to go but he can’t risk you safety again. He wants nothing more than to see you and hold you again but his guilt keeps him from reaching out. Damian still can’t stomach the fact that your soulmate string is gone and his heart can’t bare to see you if it means you’ll leave him for failing you.
Bruce arrives, offering his son a small bouquet of flowers. The old man gives the bouquet to his son and fixes his tie just like Alfred would for him, “Damian, don’t make a mistake you’ll regret for the rest of your life. You aren’t a soldier, you’re a young man with a broken heart. Don’t follow that brain of yours, follow your heart and stick to what you believe in. I know (Y/n) is the right one for you, don’t let her go so easily.”
Fresh tears begin to build in his lonely emerald eyes, he knows they’re right but he can’t help but feel trapped. It’s just one date…he can handle this.
~~~~~~~~~~
“God does she ever shut up?”, Damian growls in his mind, he’s been forced to listen to this girl ramble on for the last forty minutes and it’s driving him insane.
At first glance Nancy is very pretty but her personality is rotten and cruel. She’s a spoiled brat with horrible shopping habits, from the ridiculously long acrylic nails Damian can tell she’s never worked a day in her life. He hates this, he hates her, he hates this stupid date!
“I can’t wait for our wedding day, I’m going to wear the most gorgeous dress and the train will be long and beautiful. You’re lucky my grandmother choose you to be my husband, thousands of men in Gotham have wanted me since I was a teen.”, Nancy giggled, taking another sip of her wine.
Damian’s eye twitches out of frustration, his face is red with embarrassment but he has to keep it together. “Lucky me.”, he manages to choke out.
He’s lost his appetite, unable to deal with the annoying woman in front of him. He isn’t to fond of the food either, he hasn’t dared to touch meat since he rescued Batcow from a slaughterhouse back when he was a child so the medium rare stake sitting in front of him is making his stomach knot and twist with disgust. It’s been less then an hour but he’s ready to call it a night and burn himself alive.
“I bet my stupid cousin never made you happy huh?”, Nancy giggled watching Damian’s face contort into a look of rage, “(Y/n) was always a useless girl. My grandmother hated her very existence, always trying to behave and work hard for attention. She was a revolting woman, at least you don’t have to worry about her anymore with me around.”
“S-She wasn’t all that bad. (Y/n) was very mischievous and kind. She was perfect.”, Damian growled, as if he’d let this ridiculous woman belittle you in his presence.
Nancy didn’t seem to like that, “Oh please, you’re only saying that because you feel bad for her. I bet you didn’t even love her. She was probably just a good booty call for you.”
A loud burst of laughter spilled from the woman’s chest, the miserable look on Damian’s face was far to amusing to ignore. Damian excused himself, claiming he had to use the restroom, truthfully his instincts were reacting to his emotions. Never in his life had he wanted to snap someone’s neck so badly. He was stressed, overwhelmed, depressed, miserable! He couldn’t do this but he had to in order to keep you safe. He wanted to throw up, cry, scream, he was losing his sanity the longer he stayed with this vile woman. Little did he know that his saving grace was here to steal him away.
“(Y/n)…Habibti I miss you so much. I can’t do this…I can’t.”, Damian sighed, tears welling up in his eyes.
The door to the men’s bathroom opened up, he quickly wiped away his tears and tried to fix himself.
“There you are! Geez you’re impossible to find sometimes.”, a familiar voice rang in his ears, the giggle that followed those words made his broken heart skip a beat.
He was almost afraid to look up but even still he turned to the door to see his sweet angel standing there. Physically you had changed, the after effects of your assault obviously, but Damian knew that voice and recognized your sweet smile.
“(Y/n)? I-Is it really you?”
You nod your head softly, “Two months…I’ve been in the hospital for two months and I’ve been asking you to visit for the last five weeks. Only you would make me hunt you down for a hug.”, you laughed.
Overwhelmed with emotions, Damian charges at you and wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. Fresh tears spill from his eyes and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop them. He sobs your name, burying his head into the crook of your neck all while you wrap your arms around his back and hold him close. You don’t say anything, you just hum his name and pepper soft kisses against his neck.
“It’s okay, just take your time.”, you sighed, “I’ve missed you.”
A shaky sob spills from his lips, he’s so happy to see you again but he’s scared he’s imagining you. “I can’t believe you’re here. H-How? I thought you were still at the hospital.”, he chokes out.
You give his back a gentle rub and smile at him, “I got better, Harls found out about a hired assassin pretending to be a nurse and I checked myself out for my own safety. That’s why I asked to see you so much. I was scared and I really needed you but then I heard about Gloria blackmailing you so I decided to just wait it out.”
He finally lifts his head up from your neck, tears still blinding his vision. “You big crybaby.”, you tease, brushing his tears away.
Damian takes your wrists in his hands and kisses them, letting his lips remember the sweet softness of your skin. He doesn’t say anything, he’s confused by all the mixing emotions and signals in his brain.
“I’ve missed you.”, he finally speaks.
He stares into your eyes, lost in their (e/c) hue, and you allow him offering him an excited smile while his hands wander across your body.
“I was scared.”, he admitted, “My string disappeared and I thought it was because you were meant for someone else.”
Your soft gaze melts into a piercing glare, “So you decided to push me away and deny me my soulmate? Waiting over ten years wasn’t enough for you?”
Damian’s shocked by the sudden change of attitude and stumbles over his words, an excuse is trying to spill out but he doesn’t get to speak. You slap your hands against his cheeks and pull his face down to yours, “The string is there to help lead the way to your soulmate, I don’t need some silly string anymore to tell me that I love you. You worked hard to break down my walls, you proved that you do love me so you didn’t have to push me away you jerk. I know that I love you, I don’t need a string to tell me that, do you?”
Damian listens to everything you say but he’s to distracted by your pretty lips to really focus. He offers you an answer through action, he presses his lips to yours and holds you still. The kiss is strong and passionate, desperate and wanting. The worst and the best of him is poured into this kiss and he never wants it to stop. Eventually your lungs burn for air so you’re forced to pull away, “I’ll take that as a no.”, you smile again wiping your lip gloss off his lips.
“Why are you in a dress?”, he asks, staring down at the black long sleeved dress that stops just at your mid-thigh.
A mischievous grin pulls at your lips, “I had to look good while coming to steal back my man.”, you giggle.
Damian’s eyes blow open wide hearing you say that, how did you even know he was here?
“Jason warned me you’d be here, he told me about your little date. You don’t want to be here huh?”
You watch him shake his head, “Damian, let me steal you away from here. I know you’re used to saving others and protecting them but just this once let me save you. Let’s run away and hide for the rest of the night.”, you beg softly, clutching his blazer in your hands.
Damian lets out a shaky breath, the only power your grandmother had over him was standing right here, his gorgeous soulmate was safe and back in his arms. He wouldn’t let anything happen to you now that you were here with him again. The safest place you could be was here in his arms and nothing could harm you now.
“Yes.”, he sighs, “Yes please take me away from here. Please save me.”
You smile and nod your head, you take hold of his hand and swing the door open. Without looking back you both sneak out of the restaurant leaving your cruel cousin behind to take care of the bill. Nobody hears from either of you for the rest of the night but it’s better that way. You both need time to just talk to each other and hold each other, two months apart was to much for your poor hearts to take. You managed to pull yourself out of your own darkness but now Damian needed help to pull from his own. You’d be there for him and for the rest of your life he’d be there for you.
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sammytheotakunerd · 20 days
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Connection Interference (Part 7)
Damian Wayne x Female! Reader
A/n: idk what happened with this chapter but I took a way darker approach than normal. This is pretty much just straight angst, please proceed with caution.
TW: Abuse, breaking and entering, robbery, cursing, hostage situation, blood, torture, gunfire, pet death, death threats, hospital, near death experience, depression, distancing, very long chapter, heavy angst, MDNI, etc…
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Beloved, god how he made you hate that word, all the pain this man brought you wasn’t love! His very existence plagued you in a darkness you couldn’t escape and now that you were forced to see him again it just made your night so much worse. One of his men punched you in the jaw while another propped you up and held you still. Your father, Bernard (L/n) chuckled from his spot on your couch, “Now (Y/n), you’re a big girl now. You should know how to make your pops happy, so why did you go and reject my guy’s business proposal?”, Bernard sighed.
You glared at him, despite your left eye swelling from the consistent beating, you could see his arm bleeding from a huge bite mark. You could only assume it was Jasper’s teeth, “Where’s my dog?”
“What?”
“Where the fuck is my dog?!”, you screamed.
A loud thud sounded next to you, your poor dog’s dead body laid out on the floor. He’d been gun downed in cold blood after trying to protect the apartment, you let out a shrill wail, tears spilling from your eyes once your worst fears had been proven true. Bernard mimicked your cries, punching you in the stomach to silence you.
“Let her go.”, he ordered his men watching you collapse to the ground. He squatted down next to you, watching the blood slowly leak from your nose, “You look just like your mother.”, he laughed.
Your body hurt, it hurt so much, why did this have to happen to you, why now?
“Now answer me, why didn’t we get that deal?”
“No funds.”, you managed to cough out.
Your father snarled at that answer and lifted you up by your long (h/c) hair, you cried out in pain begging him to stop.
“You owe me money (Y/n), when your mom died I should’ve gotten that inheritance.”
“Grandma took it- she paid a crooked lawyer to alter the will.”, you rushed to explain.
Your father’s eyes grew big at the mention of your grandmother, “Oh did she now? That stupid bitch always had it out for me. She owes me more money than you do.”, he chuckled. He pulled out his serrated knife and dragged the teeth of it along your neck. You whimpered in fear and shut your eyes knowing he’d do it, that was until you felt your body fall to the ground. You looked up to see almost all of your hair in his balled up fist and realized he’d cut it short.
“Tell the men to take anything of value from the neighbors and start heading out. If anyone calls the police, kill them.”, your father ordered his men, “And you…you should probably get that arm looked at. Might be infected.”
Your father cackled motioning to your limp left arm that bled from the three bullet holes he’d put through it earlier. You were a mess, a bloody mess with no escape. Your father attempted to say something else only for huge green vines to break through the wall of your apartment building, they knocked several of his men unconscious while the others began scattering and running for their lives. The whole building became infested with vines, each entering a different apartment and protecting any innocent hostages in the rooms.
“What the fuck is going on?!”, Bernard growled, his arm muscles and nails expanding to a demonic size. He tore into the plants attempting to capture him only to have a Louisville slugger slammed into the back of his skull.
“Better back the fuck away from my girl!”, a feminine voice roared behind him.
He’d been dazed by the hit and his vision blurred, the hooded woman charged again at him and this time connected her bat with the right side of his jaw. The bone crunching sound echoed throughout the building, Bernard escaped in a hurry and your protector didn’t give chase.
“Babe I’ve got all the innocents out of the building, GCPD is in route, we’ve gotta go befo- oh my god.”
You were barely breathing, your body was beginning to shut down, the hooded woman kneeled down next to you evaluating your injuries.
“Ive we’ve gotta get her to a hospital, she won’t make it if we wait for the ambulance.”, the woman removed her hood, gazing up at her red haired lover with desperate blue eyes.
Ivy kneeled down and nodded her head, you were Harley’s therapy patient and despite all the taboos between doctor/patient relationships you were also one of her dearest friends. Before you’d been dragged out from under your bed you had called her but you hadn’t realized that the call made it through, she was forced to listen to your cries and pleads while you were beaten until she could get there. She wasn’t in Gotham she’d traveled three states over to have a vacation with Ivy but both women dropped everything for you and called in favors just to get to you faster.
“We’ve gotta go Harley, if GCPD sees us they’ll blame all this on us.”, Ivy spoke softly, she summoned one of her plants to you and slowly moved your body into one of the leaves that gently curled around you and kept you safe.
Harley nodded and looked around the apartment, there was so much damage, it was unbelievable how you managed to still be alive after it looked like a literal tornado had hit your apartment. Her eyes fell on Jasper’s deceased body and she frowned, she had gotten you Jasper when he was just a puppy to help you through your mother’s death.
“Lets go. I’m not losing her tonight.”
Harley was furious, shaking with rage and crying heavy tears as she typed away angrily at her phone. The three of you disappeared with the vines into the sewers just as GCPD arrived and started looking for any remaining criminals. I’m just a few short hours Batman and company would be arriving the see the damage that had been caused.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nightwing, Orphan, and Signal all looked on in horror to the sight before them. The building they recognized as your home was in complete shambles, so many families were displaced by the attack and worst of all the only person with possible injuries was missing from the scene. All the other tenants were safe and untouched with no serious injuries but the one person they hoped was okay was missing. Your apartment was in shambles, blood and bullet holes littered the walls and there was no sign of you.
“Fuck where could she be? Oh god I hope she’s okay.”, Signal quietly panicked, unable to stomach the fact that he’d just seen you a couple hours ago.
Nightwing watched over the young Batman that kneeled next to the white sheet covered body of your beloved dog. He could see Batman quaking with rage, his nostrils flaring with anger as he tried to calm his emotions. The new police commissioner finally arrived to the scene with an update for the heroes.
“What happened?”, Batman asked, an ominous tone in his voice as he continued looking down at the covered body.
The police commissioner sighed and pulled out his notepad, “Neighbors all had there doors broken down by two to three masked men around ten o’clock, the men were simply stealing valuables and holding people hostage while waiting for commands. The neighbors next door was the one to hear the worst of it. This apartment belongs to a woman named (F/n) (L/n), twenty six year old female, lived alone with her pet dog.”, he motioned to the sheet where Batman was hovering.
“She’s the daughter of Penguin Gang Leader Bernard (L/n), aka Oso Polar. Neighbor claimed a man matching his description stormed into his apartment asking where (F/n) had went. Once he had the information he waited inside until she arrived home. When she did, there was an altercation here at the front door, two of his guys tried to subdue her and she defended herself with a pair of high heeled shoes. Neighbors not sure what happened after that but he said he heard barking, gunshots, and her cries and screams for about an hour until these vines bursted into each apartment. We have yet to find the missing woman but if her injuries are as bad as they seem then she may be dead somewh-whoa hey!”
Batman rushed at the police commissioner, ready to drive his fist into the man’s mouth had it not been for his three partners holding him back.
“Sorry! Sorry! He’s just close friends with the victim so he’s worried. Please interview the criminals you were able to arrest and update us. I’ll take care of him, Signal and Orphan you two stay here and keep searching for any clues.”, Nightwing apologized and delegated the mission to the two younger heroes.
Batman continued struggling in his grip, forcing him to drag him outside and swing over to a nearby rooftop. Once he released the young bat themed hero he watched angry Arabic slurs spill from his mouth while he began pacing back and forth. Damian was panicking, overwhelmed by what he saw and fearing for your life.
“Batman.”
The slurs continued, his breathing was picking up.
“Batman.”
The tears began to spill through his mask, the breathing was getting faster.
“Batman!”, Nightwing yelled finally gaining his brother’s attention.
Damian turned towards his brother and screamed, “She called! She called me when this was happening and I fucking hung up on her! I killed her! I killed her because I was wasting my time trying to apologize to her stupid grandmother! Fuck what do I do? What do I do? She’s gone, she’s gone and missing and hurt! What do I do?”, he screamed, spilling his heart out to Dick.
“Dick what do I do if she’s dead?”, Damian choked out in between his sobs.
Dick sighed seeing his youngest brother break down before him, like his father before him Damian was consumed by a heavy burden every time he wore this mask. Now he was forced to swallow his heart and play hero instead of worried lover, “Damian it’s gonna be alright we’ll find her. She’s going to be fine and when we do then we’re going after the bastard who did this. You’ve just gotta calm down and think rationally, why…why don’t you go and follow your string and find her? We’ll stay here and figure out what we can and report back to you.”
“I can’t. It’s gone.”, Damian sobbed, “It’s still tied around my finger but there’s a cut. It’s like our connection got severed, and I don’t know if it’s because of the fight or if it’s because she’s gone. Dick I don’t know what to do.”
The sudden revelation had Dick’s stomach turning inside out, never had he heard of a severed soulmate connection. He panicked behind his mask and simply nodded his head, “I-O-Ok then…umm well just…just go home. Call it a night I’ll take over, I’ll make sure that Jasper is taken for cremation and that his ashes get sent back to the manor okay. Just go home.”
Batman struggles to stomach the idea but ultimately gives in, he’s to emotional to be of any help so he heads back to Manor. Dick calls Bruce to tell him about what happened that way he can help Damian through the grief. He wasn’t sure what to do next all he knew was that something had to be done. They had to find you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Damian’s pov
The farther I got away from the scene of the crime the more hopeless I became, I was scared. I’ve experienced death and hell before and not even that scared but right now…right now I was afraid. I was living my worst nightmare, not even Fear Toxin could scare me as bad as I am right in this moment. Father and Barbara were both waiting for me in the Batcave when I finally arrived home. They both tried to calm me down and comfort me but to avoid hurting them I stayed out of reach.
“Babs did you get the audio recording from the hallway during the Gala?”, I asked, rubbing my aching temples.
Barbara nodded and handed me some pain medication, she hesitantly played the audio. I listened to the audio of your grandmother’s conversation with you and it only made my blood boil more. Hearing her degrade you, calling you a parasite, comparing you to the heartless monster that destroyed your home and took Jasper from you, and trying to pay you to leave me, you were right why didn’t listen to you? The audio cuts off and we all just stand there in a deafening silence, “How could someone suffer so much and yet still manage to be happy after everything they’ve been through?”, I asked aloud.
My father answered, “Son there’s a saying that Alfred always told me when I was growing up. The prettiest smiles hide the deepest of secrets, the prettiest eyes have shed the most tears and the kindest hearts have felt the most pain. I don’t know anybody who fits that description more perfectly than (Y/n). She’s a strong girl Damian, she had to be it was just with you that she felt safe enough to let her guard down and let those feelings out.”
My father’s words wounded my heart, to think that all this happened because I failed you would forever be one of my deepest regrets. I could only pray that you were alright, that somewhere out there I’d find you alive.
“Damian look! I think I know who has (Y/n)!”, Barbara cheered with excitement.
Both my father and I looked up at the screen, a traffic camera just to the north side of your building recorded huge vines erupting from the grounds bursting into the building and evacuating families that had been caught. There was only one person I knew with that ability and if it was who I think it was than Harley would have your location. I pulled out my phone and immediately dialed her, hoping she’d pick up, after the third ring she did, I opened my mouth to say something only to have her scream into my. She cursed at me, calling me every possible name in the dictionary.
“H-Harley wait give me a second to explain I-“
“No shut up! You listen here you little piece of shit, you have a lot of nerve calling me when I’m busy trying to rescue you’re girlfriend who you hung up on! I left my vacation early just to get an unauthorized boom tube travel by Cyborg in order to come rescue (y/n) and now I have her crashing on me because I didn’t make it fast enough!”, Harley screamed into the phone.
“Crashing? Crashing, what do you mean crashing?! Harley is she dying, please don’t tell me she’s dying! Please tell me she’s going to be alright!”, I panicked hearing shuffling in the background.
“Kid it’s Ivy, look it’s not looking good for her, (Y/n)’s lost to much blood and her body is in shock from being beat to death. We brought her to the hospital and the doctors are doing everything they can but they just don’t think she’ll survive the surgery. I’m sorry but you’ll just have to wait until we call you with news.”
“Wait no! No no no no no please! Please don’t hang up! Where are you please tell me! I’ll go over there right now and-“
“Goodbye kid, see ya in the morning.”, Ivy sighed hanging up the call.
I became hysterical, my body was going into overdrive. I had to find you, I had to be by your side, I couldn’t let you die like this!
“Babs track her phone location, get me Harley’s location now!”, I ordered, Barbara seemed to understand something I didn’t.
My heart sank watching her shake her head, she couldn’t be serious right?
“Barbara I wasn’t asking you I was t-telling y-you…”, before I knew it I had collapsed to the ground face first, without realizing my father had injected me with a sedative to put me to sleep.
“I’m sorry Barbara. I’ll take it from here, try to get in contact with Harley and ask her to keep you posted.”, my father ordered.
I was carried to my room in the manor and tucked in, the sedative had taken effect my body was asleep but I could still hear things around me. My father tried comforting me, promising that (y/n) would be alright but it wasn’t enough to stop the tears that spilled from my sleeping eyes. This was fear, this is what being unable to control the unknown felt like.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
(3rd person pov)
The manor was consumed by a thick aura of doubt and fear, no one dared to breathe a word about what they discovered at the crime scene yesterday. Damian, now rested and calmed down, waited for the others to say something but nobody did. Jason, Tim, and Stephanie arrived in the early morning to hear what had happened and all prayed for your safety.
“Does anybody have an eta on Harley?”,Bruce broke the silence, sipping on his coffee while he waited for an answers.
Nobody answered since all eyes were pointed to the door where the bell had just sounded off, Damian quickly stood up only to find himself staring at the barrel of Jason’s gun.
“Sit down demon boy. Duke answer the door.”, Jason ordered, his eyes never left Damian’s until he did as told.
Damian slumped back onto the couch in defeat and waited for Harley to come in. Sure enough she did, annoyed and frustrated but regardless she came bearing news.
“Hey Harls, good to see you. H-How is she?”, Dick asked.
Damian’s eyes were completely focused on Harley who only returned his gaze with a glare.
“(Y/n)’s heart flat lined last night.”, she began watching everyone’s faces pale with shock, “Doctors tried for almost five minutes straight to resuscitate her and thankfully they managed to bring her back. Her injuries include three broken ribs, two gun shot wounds to the upper left arm, a cracked jaw, a black eye, a broken nose, a broken leg, several cigarette burns over her body, and bruising to her abdomen, chest and back. Doctors said she’s lucky to be alive.”
Even with the news of you being alive nobody’s stomachs were able to settle after hearing your list of injuries. Fresh tears started to well up in Damian’s eyes but Harley didn’t offer him any pity.
“She’ll be getting a new psychiatrist to help with her depression and be getting a new anti-anxiety medication to help with her paranoia. She’s not okay, in the slightest and I’m not okay with any of you so for the time being none of you fuckers are allowed to visit her!”, Harley decreed watching several of the family members stand in frustration.
“That’s not fair Harley! We need to see her.”, Duke whined.
“Harley please we just need to talk with her, we want to help her heal, she’s part of the family.”, Stephanie added.
Harley raised her hand to silence the room, “(Y/n) is no longer part of this family, when she died last night so did her soul bond to Damian. She no longer has her string, she told me herself.”
Damian’s heart broke to the news, your connection had been severed because you died. Damian lost you completely because he decided to be stupid and argue with you about this.
“Harley who did this to her?”, Damian finally spoke out.
The blue eyed woman turned to him and scoffed, “Her father, he’s the bastard who’s head broke my favorite bat. If I’m lucky the stupid bastard had a concussion for a few days because of it.”
Everyone noticed the light slowly leaving Damian’s eyes, “Damian don’t you dare do anything stupid.”, Bruce warned.
Damian stood tall and glared at his family with the same murderous eyes that once belonged to his mother, “I have a target that must be killed and I intend to do so until I can avenge my love.”
“Not alone you ain’t. Thick head’s got an upgrade. His muscles grew and his nails became thick like claws, he really did look like a bear.”, Harley warned.
Damian paid little attention, he disappeared into the manor leaving everyone behind. Bruce sighed and stood up, “Well looks like I’ll be coming out of retirement for a bit.”, he joked.
The rest of the family gawked at him, had he really just said that?
“Bruce you can’t be serious. You’re ancient!”, Tim spoke up first.
The others agreed but that didn’t stop Bruce, “Well if who would’ve been my fellow parent in law hurt my precious daughter in law then I’m not just going to sit down and do nothing. Harley just stay with her, help her through her depression and when we’re done then please let us start visiting. Steph and Cass I want you to make (Y/n) a gift bag to send to her and cheer her up, boys you’re all with me.”
Everyone followed orders as told and the boys suited up. Damian was upstairs in his room, his body running on autopilot, he pulled a box out from his closet and opened it. He couldn’t help but frown at the League of Assassins uniform that rested in the box. Never did he think he’d be forced to use this uniform but Damian wasn’t doing this for justice, no he was going to kill your father for vengeance. He could only pray the somehow you could forgive him for what he was about to do.
“I’ll make things right, I promise I will (Y/n).”
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