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sugarbell · 4 months

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Batfam X Neglected Batsis Reader

Part 2

It was the day, or night of the fundraiser and you were jittery. With both nerves, and excitement. For starters it was your first time at an event like this by yourself. Usually at least your siblings were there, but being around them was like being alone anyways.

Harry had a package sent to the house two days before and Alfred had brought it up to your bedroom. A note was inside the box on top of a black dress. It wasn’t anything too flashy, but it was definitely a jaw-dropper. It was short, black, and had long sleeves but the sides were ruched and had two strings that tied into loose bows at the sides and dangled down your thighs. He had also sent a pair of black suede heels, and you had never worn any before so you were especially nervous about those, but you had been practicing in your room almost all day when it was sent. There was also a diamond clutch purse, and a matching thin diamond necklace and earrings. You had gasped when you pulled everything out of the gift box. You could tell the diamonds were real.

When Alfred brought it up he seemed a little puzzled, but also had a little knowing smirk on his lips. Probably from the little tag on the gift box that read, “To Miss Lana Lang” with a drawn heart and a kissy face. You had wanted to tell Alfred that it wasn’t what he thought but you decided against it, and simply thanked him for bringing the package up. Immediately you set it on your bed and sighed. You had barely known this boy for longer than ten minutes and he was already embarrassingly flirty. But you couldn’t deny that it made a little smile pull at your own lips, and turned your freckled cheeks a little pink. You hadn’t really been able to stop thinking about him ever since that time on the sidewalk where you met him.

Although you weren’t actually planning to go, even when he sent the dress. You did feel a little pressured, feeling a little bad that he would’ve spent all this money on clearly expensive clothing and accessories, just for you to not even show up. And you had really wanted to see him again. You thought about sending it all back with an apology letter, but when you read the letter inside the box your mind was half changed. What happened with Damian just sealed the deal.

“Lana, I’d really love it if you’d wear this and join me at the fundraiser event in two days. There’s no pressure though, if you aren’t interested. Maybe we could meet up and do something else instead. However if you do decide to come, it would really make my day. 8:00 sharp. Even if you don’t decide to come, keep the outfit. Maybe I could see you in it another time.

P.S., the diamonds are real. You’d look lovely in them, Kitten.”

After you read that letter, your head was spinning, and your heart was beating ten times faster. You did feel a little relieved that he wasn’t pressuring you to come. And was he asking you out again? If you didn’t want to come? It was too much for you to think about at the time, so you had packed it all up, we’re preparing to write up a letter explaining why you couldn’t come. Probably using some bullshit excuse of having to finish a paper for school or something.

But after you had that incident in the kitchen with your younger “brother”, you had made up your mind. You were going. You needed a distraction anyway. A break, and you wanted to do something for you for once, instead of constantly trying to please everyone else in the household and tripping yourself up in the process.

(Present Time)

You were currently getting dressed in your room. You had to wear a black strapless bra because of the sweetheart cut and curved breast line of the dress. You weren’t sure how he knew your size, but he probably took a gamble. It wouldn’t have been hard to figure out that you were an extra small because of your build. It fit perfectly. It hugged your body, you didn’t really have many or any curves for that matter, it it made you look incredibly flattering. You slipped into the black suede heels that also fit very well. After dumping all your necessities into your diamond clutch(, wallet, keys, pads, candies, pepper spray-you never know-) you had fastened the dazzling necklace and earrings on and next was your hair. You let it down and it was already straight, but you used a flat iron to bump it inwards a little at the ends. You painted your lips with a dark-wine colored lipstick. You had bought it a while back but never used it. That was the only makeup you put on as you looked in the mirror.

You were happy with your appearance. “I hope Harry is too.” You thought but instantly, you brushed the intrusive thought away. “You hardly know him, Lana” you told yourself.

Now for the hard part..sneak out the house at 7:50 pm and try not to get noticed by nine people. Piece of cake. It wasn’t necessarily ray you weren’t supposed to go, it was more you didn’t really want to have to explain to anyone why you were dressed for a party, and leaving the house at 8:00 p.m., when all you’ve ever done was stay inside the house shut up in your room. You crept through the house as quietly as you could in nine inch heels. You were down the stairs and now all you had to do was cross the spacious living room to reach the kitchen. And you were almost home free when you heard footsteps. Slow, but sure. Fuck.

You thought you were done for, but when you saw Alfred’s frame round the corner with a neutral look on his face you breathed a sigh of relief. At least maybe you could try talking to him. “Alfred! Um, hi…” you said with a nervous smile on your face. You were a dead giveaway. “Ahem. Going somewhere, young Madame Lang?” He asked. You sighed and shook your head. There was no point in trying to lie or dance around the truth. “I’m going to Harry Osborn’s fundraiser tonight, Alfred.” You said with a sigh.

“Then won’t you be needing this, young madame?” He asked, raising up your phone, with the red superman phone case facing towards you. “Of course! Thank you so much, Alfred!” You grinned jumping into his arms as he handed you the case. “You’re a lifesaver, Alfred!” Alfred smiled down at you before pulling away and patting your back towards the door. “Yes, of course I am, Madame. Now go have fun.” You lean up and kiss his cheek before nodding and leaving as Alfred locked the door behind you.

When you arrived at Harry Osborn’s manor, you were shocked. There were more people than you thought filtering into the house. There were press scattered around inside and outside of the place, but nothing that threw you. You were used to this kind of stuff, being Bruce Wayne’s daughter and all. At least you didn’t appear thrown. On the inside, no matter how many camera shined or flashed in your face you would never get over the anxiety of it, but on the outside, you were always the composed and calm daughter. And that’s how you appeared now as you made your way inside.

You were stunned when you saw his ballroom. It was incredibly large, and again, you had been to tons of places with large, beautiful ballrooms, and none of them ever really compared to Bruce’s at home, that was used for galas, balls, and events at his own home, but his was still pretty and large. There were a few tables set up where mostly older people were sitting down and talking, there was a little bar posted in the far right corner of the large room where adults were also drinking and mingling, and others were standing around the ballroom talking and mingling as well. There was also two large spiral staircases leading down from the top floor to the ballroom area. Bruce had staircases just like that I’m his ballroom too, except it was a bit more grand, but you loved this one just the same. It was much more crowded than you thought it would be.

On shaky legs you made your way over to the bar. These heels looked nice, but they were truly little devils. It was your first time walking in them and you were sure you looked ridiculous, but you were actually doing rather well. You tried not to kill yourself, and cause a scene in the process with each step you took over to the surprisingly large bar.

You had been there for around thirty minutes, and Harry was nowhere to be seen. You felt out of place among all these people. Older people with good jobs, lots of money, established places in society. You weren’t that far off, it’s just that you got a lot of stares from being so young, and you were alone. You took a deep breath, sat down in one of the stools a couple seats down from where a couple was drinking and laughing, and quietly ordered an apple juice in a wine glass. That way you would at least maybe look a little more like you belonged here.

The bartender was a female, around early forties who gave you a small smile as she poured your juice into the cup on the down low. You smiled back at her. She had red hair curled up to her chin, and slight wrinkles along her face. She was plump and a little short. She grinned. “Nice choice.” You crossed one leg over the other on the small stool you sat at. “Thank you,” You replied with a giggle. “It’s one of my favorites.” She was about to say something else to you when she was called over politely by an older male at the other end of the bar.

She walked over to him and took his order, leaving you alone again just like that. You had sighed and looked down, feeling all the nervousness and anxiety rush back again. Where was Harry? He was the one who invited you here in the first place, one of the main reasons why you came, and now he was nowhere to be found? He was thirty-five minutes past being ‘fashionably late.’ Your dark brown eyes scanned the room looking for him, but to no avail. You were becoming increasingly frustrated about it. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake. You swirled the drink in your wine glass around before you topped it back and finished the whole thing in just two gulps.

“Easy there.” You heard a voice say. You turned your head ti the side to see a beautiful, goddess-looking women sitting beside you. She looks to be in her early/mid thirties. Wow…she’s insanely gorgeous. She has long jet black hair curled flawlessly. Her face is soft, but sharp around the edges, showing maturity. Dark eyes, but the way the ceiling chandelier and the little lights installed in the roof of the bar hits them makes them able to be recognized as a dark honey color. Thick eyebrows arched, lips full and defined perfectly, and coated with the perfect shade of bright red. Her skin is tan, and her accent is incredibly hard to place, but her voice is smooth and mature.

At your confused and mildly shocked look she just smiles softly and holds her hand out. Her nails are perfectly manicured red to match her lips, and the knee length red bodycon dress she wore, contrasting your dainty hands with shiny black polish. “Diana Prince, museum curator.” She smiled, as your dainty hand shook hers. You weren’t sure why, but you couldn’t keep your composure, (surprising right?), and you immediately blurred out, “L-Lana Lang, high school senior.” she laughed at the last part of your sentence. “You seem nervous.” She states matter of factly, and the sheer amount of woman confidence and power that radiated off of her made you even more nervous but you admired it.

“I am,” you admitted truthfully. “I was invited here by an…acquaintance, but he’s nowhere to be found, and this isn’t really my kind of scene and…I feel tremendously out of place.” You said, hanging your head with a sigh. “Is it that obvious, though?” You asked, and she smiled reassuringly. “Only if you’ve felt that way yourself before.” She says and you smile back at her, your spirits lifting a little. You sigh exaggeratedly and wipe a drop of fake sweat away from your brow. “Good.” She laughs again, and the nice bartender is back. “I’ll have whatever she’s having.” Diana tells the bartender, and nods her head towards you so she knew what you meant. The bartender laughs a little and nods. “You got it.”

When she hands Diana her drink, she takes a sip and arches an eyebrow at you, giving you a playful look making you snort and laugh a little. “I’m not old enough to drink…and I wanted to feel in place.” Diana smiled but scoffed a little making you give her a questioning look. She shook her head at you. “Why do you do that?” She asked, and you frowned in confusion. “Do what?” She sat a little straighter in her stool, if that wears even possible because you noted from the beginning that her posture was impeccable. “Act so unsure of yourself. I noticed you earlier, and you seemed so nervous and anxious. So uncomfortable in your own skin. You’re beautiful, funny, and you seem kinder and more good-hearted than anybody else here. That alone should be more than enough to make you tremendously confident in yourself. You ought to walk with your head held high.” She said, raising her perfectly arched eyebrow at you again and her words shocked you. She really thought that of you?

You had only just met her a couple minutes ago, and already she was praising your beauty and qualities and you accidentally wondered aloud how she could tell all of that from you already, to which she replied with, “I can feel it.” It perplexed you, but it brought a smile to your face. “I-wow…um, thank you. Nobody’s ever told me anything like that before. I think you’re beautiful too…you’ve got this aura of confidence and it’s…envious.” She smiled at you like she had known you forever. “Don’t be envious. You have it inside of you as well.” She stood up from her seat and grabbed her ‘wine.’ “It was lovely talking to you, Lana, but I must be going. And I think your acquaintance is looking for you. Remember what I said, won’t you?” She shook your hand again, and began walking to a small group on the other side of the room.

You nodded, still a little stunned, and turned to see Harry coming down the stairs and entering the ballroom. He was already looking at you when you turned around and met eyes with him. His eyes seemed to light up when you finally noticed him. He began making his way towards you, but he was stopped by quite a few people on the way. He plastered on a handsome smile and talked with them each until he was finally able to greet you at the bar. You stood up when he reached you.

His voice was smooth, with just a little bit of raspiness. “Hi, kitten. Miss me?” You had no idea how a man you just met was able to make you that weak in the knees with just four words and a smile. At the moment you were caught between your feelings that were at war. The half of you that wanted to schoolgirl and kick your feet and shyly stutter out a response, or the bolder you that wanted to place your hands on your hips, raise an eyebrow, and ask him just what was the point of inviting you here and then making you wait an hour for him to show up to his own ‘party.’ You settled for the latter, after remembering Diana’s words.

You stood up straight and arched your brow, giving him an unimpressed look. He looked down sheepishly but he still seemed to have such an air of arrogance around him. “Okay, I’m sorry, I got caught up with last minute business stuff and it couldn’t wait.” He said, giving you an award winning smile like that would instantly make you forgive him. And you hated how it did.

You sighed and nodded and he took a step back from you to run his eyes up and down your body, and he whistled before his eyes met yours again. “I knew you’d look incredible in this stuff…” and you hate the way that you blush and avert your gaze like a schoolgirl. He “tsks” and takes your chin in his thumb and forefinger and makes you look into his striking emerald eyes. “Look at me, yeah kitten? Lemme see those eyes.” *and the shocked gasp that come from your throat makes him smirk a little as he releases your chin and praises you when you keep your eyes on him. “Good girl.” He mutters, his eyes trained on your lips.

You were sure that you had serious daddy issues that manifested somewhere during the time you had met Bruce. Not having a great father figure in your life instantly gave you them and they were bad. The way he praised you and how you found yourself practically willing to do anything on the inside to hear more of it, after only knowing him for such a short amount of time confirmed your suspicions.

He wasn’t even that much older than you either, only around twenty-six or twenty-seven years old, maybe it was the idea that he was older even by a little. Maybe it was the idea that he was running his own business and throwing fundraisers and charity events and galas and balls. You weren’t sure but you were hopelessly attracted to it.

Harry had noticed from the first time he met you how adorably shy and weak you got when he called you nicknames, so he took it a step further here, and he was more than please with the results. When he got home from meeting you, the first thing he did was look you up and see if he could get anything on you. You had zero social media presence of your own, but you had a google page and there were countless photos of you with your other siblings at charity events, balls, galas, and fundraisers. Some at different places, and some of you at Wayne Manor. He also looked up all of your siblings to learn what he could about them. He found himself growing more and more infatuated with you since he met you last week.

He couldn’t wait to see you again, and he was pissed when his assistant had apologetically dumped more paperwork on him, telling him it had to be finished before he went downstairs. He wanted so badly to see if you had showed up. And you had, looking ethereal, no less.

He watched your hazy eyes snap back into focus as you remembered where you were and looked around to see if anybody had seen that, but it didn’t look as though anyone had. Everyone too caught up laughing and mingling amongst themselves to notice you with Harry. You took two steps back from him and smiled. “Hi Harry.” “Hi, kitten.” He repeated making you nudge his side harshly. “Shh! My name is Lana—“you didn’t seem to mind when I was calling you that before.” He chuckled with that same mischievous fire dancing in his eyes again. You weren’t sure just how badly you were going to get burned if you got too close, but if he kept being this alluring, you were going to have to find out.

“I’m glad you showed up after all. Wasn’t sure if you were gonna come.” He said as he looked to you. “I decided what the hell. Has nothing else to do, so I figured I’d entertain you for a bit.” You giggled, teasing him, but he just grinned a little. “Oh yeah?” “Mhm. Yeah.” You said, not taking your eyes off of his. He stepped closer to you and you waited for him to get close enough. What he deemed close enough, and suddenly you were grateful you had decided to sit in the back of the bar on the far side, secluded from prying eyes.

His wolfish grin never stopped even as he slowly wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close into him. Like he was testing the waters, and giving you time to pull away. You never did. And it made his heart swell, surprisingly so. Nobody had ever made him feel the way you did. And he was obsessed with it.

You braced your hands against his chest. He wore a black three piece suit and tie with a white shirt and the classic black shoes. “He looked good in a suit.” You thought. “How’s your side?” He murmured lowly, his cool breath fanning your face as he spoke. Your eyes still locked onto each others. “It’s fine.” He eyes your own eyes suspiciously. “Yeah?” He asks, still in that low tone and it’s absolutely killing you. “Yeah.” You mumble. He hums, as if in deep thought, his eyes still never leaving yours. “You sure? Cuz I could take you upstairs and we could have a look at it, make sure it isn’t bruised or anything. And then maybe I could give you something as an apology for hitting you. How’s that sound, kitten?” The way he says it is so unabashedly suggestive and in no way subtle and you’re really grateful that you’re in a more secluded spot. You giggled softly. “I thought you said inviting me here was an apology for that?” You asked, and he frowned before nodding like he did remember saying that. “Well, think of this as a second one. So what do you say?”

You stopped and truly considered it for a moment. The offer was so incredibly tempting and sweet, but there were a few factors that came into play regarding your answer.

One, Harry had literally just gotten down here to his own event, and while you didn’t doubt that he had probably ditched more than enough times, considering the way he was so ready to take you upstairs without a second thought, you knew it probably wouldn’t look good.

Two, you didn’t really see how you two could just escape upstairs without anyone seeing you and you didn’t need a headline in the paper, titled, “Bruce Wayne’s adoptive daughter Lana Lang, and Harry Osborn, now head of OsCorp seen going upstairs together at charity event.” Just really wasn’t the kind of attention you wanted to attract.

Three, you weren’t really too sure about Harry. Of course you were embarrassingly wrapped around his finger, but you were very smart and intelligent. You didn’t know Harry well enough to go upstairs with him, and while people had one night stands just like this all the time, you weren’t ready.

Four, related to reason number three, you were also a virgin, and you were positive you weren’t ready for that to change just yet.

You sighed a little and gave Harry a soft smile. He still patiently awaited your answer and had busied himself with taking in deep breaths of the perfume you had decided to wear tonight. A roses and wine scent that you had put on. It was far from what you usually wore which was more milder, softer, sweeter scents, but you wanted something a little more…adult today.

“Maybe another time, tiger.” You said, as he was leaning in probably to begin pressing losses against your neck, but he stopped when he hears your words. He gave you a little smile to let you know that it was no problem. “Alright…alright. God, you make me crazy, you know that?” He asked, like he was trying so hard to restrain himself. He took a step back from you and already you were missing the warmth of his arms wrapped around your waist. “Do I?” He just stared at you like this was basic common knowledge. Like this was something you should already know. He gave you a curt nod and took your hand, placing a kiss on it, as he steered you towards the crowd to mingle.

No matter how much Harry wanted nothing more than to whisk you upstairs and fuck you into his bed until you were seeing stars, he knew he had to take it slow with you. You two had only met a little while ago after all, and you might not be as infatuated with him as he was with you yet. That was okay. He would make sure that you were soon.

After around two and a half hours of mingling around, talking with people, and raising awareness about the situation. The reason you were there in the first place you were both mentally and physically exhausted. Harry was steering you outside by the small of your back. You two had also gotten closer during the night and he invited you on a coffee date sometime next week, to which you had accepted.

You felt as though you really had made a difference. At the end of the night, a little before Harry had taken you outside, the number of money that would be put into renovating orphanages, and getting better care for the children there was a surprisingly high amount.

You’d had to tell your ‘story’ to lots of people there, explaining what happened to your parents during your childhood and how you ended up with Bruce now. Lots of people were inspired and put in even more money. A lot of them really weren’t as snobby and stuck-up as you expected them to be, however you did run into a couple of assholes like that. One of the people you spoke to regarding your life experience was Diana, and when you told her who your parents were she didn’t seem surprised in the slightest. When you asked her why not she explained that she had known your parents, specifically your mother and they were rather good friends before she passed.

She said that she had worked in your mothers company as her secretary and right hand woman until she got a new job, and that’s when she became a museum curator because she had a love for history and historical art. All this information shocked you very much and you asked her why she hadn’t told you earlier. She explained that she hadn’t truly recognized you until she started talking with you, and she realized you looked familiar but when you said your name, it confirmed her earlier suspicions that you were Eleanor’s daughter. She said she was planning to tell you all this but when she saw Harry looking for you, she decided she’d come find you later before you left. Which she did. She caught you when Harry was without you, talking to someone else.

You were very shocked and you asked her so many questions about your parents. She wasn’t able to answer many about your father, other than what your mother had told her in passing, because she hadn’t ever met your father directly before. But she said that when your mother talked about your father, she was beaming. Like she had been married to her soulmate. Hearing that made your heart melt.

She told you how strong, brave, independent, bold, fiery, and confident your mother was. But how she also had the capacity to be soft, and caring, and kind, and loving and compassionate and gentle. She was beloved by many of the women who worked in her industry and many were saddened when she left. How she lit up any room wherever she went and brought smiles to people’s faces, but how she could also make any who unjustly opposed her cower in fear. She said your mother was very shy, a sweet wallflower before the two met in college and how Diana had helped her grow out of her shell into the girl boss she was up until her death.

Diana explained how she didn’t even know that your mother had a baby. Since you were orphaned when you were a baby, Diana had been living in another part of the world for a short time, excavating something for her new job, and when she returned and heard the news, she was devastated. Diana and your mother kept in contact and frequently spoke just as often as they did before, even with Diana having a new job and moving away for a short period of time.

She seemed to feel so guilty about the fact that you were in such a terrible orphanage for eight years, and trust maybe she could’ve done something about it, having known your mother so well, and been employed under her. You asked Diana why, instead of your parents writing it down that you should go with Bruce, seeing as all your other family was either supposedly dead or unable to take you in, instead of perhaps going with Diana when your mother knew her so much better than she knew Bruce. You had always thought it odd, knowing that your parents were good surface friends with Bruce but not much more than that. You always chalked it up to you having nobody else besides him to go to…but now you knew about Diana. So why didn’t your mother send you with her? Life might’ve been so much less lonely and cold being with her.

Diana told you that her and your mother trusted each other a lot, but if there was one thing your mom was, it was selfless. She was stubborn in that kind of endearing way, Diana had said. She probably viewed it as saddling me with you when you were such a young age and my job allowed me to travel all over the world, but seeing as Bru—Mr. Wayne, (she had corrected herself, which you thought was strange but you brushed it off as her wanting to be polite especially since he was your “father.”) already had kids at the time. She said and it made sense.

However, Diana was quick to assure you that she would’ve loved to have you as her adoptive daughter no matter what. She said, it would’ve been a lively experience for the both of us, I hope. And that was something you truly believed. You and Diana ended up exchanging numbers, and she told you that you could talk to her about anything at all, any time at all. Knowing you had another friend made you happy. Maybe Diana could fill the hole in your heart with stories to your mother and her. Just maybe.

Anyways, as said before, Harry was steering you outside by the small of your back, but when you shivered against the cool early-spring air he frowned. “You didn’t bring a jacket?,” he asked, “Dammit, I should’ve bought you one as well.” You cut him off by shaking your head and smiling. “It’s fine, I’m fine. I actually had a lot of fun tonight.” Harry have you a genuine smile at that, and then it turned into his signature arrogant smirk. He took off his suit jacket and placed it around your arms. “For the ride home. G’night kitten.” He said, and debated leaning in for a kiss, but decided against it. He just sort of squeezed the small of your waist before heading off back inside.

When you got home that night you were practically breathless. You weren’t really sure if your plan would go as planned in the beginning. If you would actually make a difference, but so many people there seemed so moved by what you had to say, and easily gave three times the moment they would’ve in the beginning just from you talking to them. It felt so good to do some to ing like that at your age. You were already helping people but you felt like you could do more. You thought about what it would be like to be a vigilante like the rest of your family. You had your heart set on that as well, and you were sure going to make that happen. But you did need a plan for that first. You couldn’t well just make a suit and go out fighting crime with no training. You weren’t fighting or killing machines like your siblings were, so you would need to train for a long time before you’d be ready for any of that. But that was later to come.

Right now you were just in bed and fangirling. So incredibly excited about what had happened today. So many new relationships has blossomed. You were surprised that so much could happen in just one night. Raising that much money, making connections with wealthy, powerful people, finding the truth about Diana and your mother, and you and Harry.

Harry. You thought about him a lot lately too. You wondered if what you two had might blossom into more, and maybe even love if you two continued to spend time together. You wanted something like what your parents have. How Diane a spoke about the way your mother talked about your father.

You wanted to be able to talk about someone like that, and in turn they talk about you the same way. You wanted to feel true love so badly that it hurt you. When you were old enough to learn about your parents and why you were with Bruce, you learned also that your parents were found the next day when someone took the w highway and called the police because of the broken rail. You learned that your parents both drowned in the car together, but that they were found holding hands over the glove compartment. They had accepted their fate, but they still loved each other so much, that even in death they were together. You wanted something like that. A relationship like that. You wanted to die for someone and someone who would die for you.

Be careful what you wish for.

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classywitchunknown · 6 months

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What if hawk from cobra kai dates batsis yn and meets the batfam.

I see at least damian being disapproving of him.

#imagine #cobra kai x reader #batfam x batsis reader #hawk moskowitz x reader

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shallyouobeyme · 6 months

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From the Outside

Part 1 (you're here) | Part 2 (Coming soon)

Platonic!Yandere Batfam x Neglected Batsib!reader (GN)

Summary: You were living your life as a stranger in the house you were supposed to call home, an outsider in a group of people who were supposed to be your family. So you do your best to keep yourself distracted from your situation and go on with your life. But just how long will you be able to keep on with that?

! Minors Do Not Interact !

Requested by @sol565

TW: Not much in this one, neglect (obviously), loss of relatives, car crash (mentioned), cancer (mentioned), swearing, coming up to Yandereness in the next chapters. I'll try to proofread and edit once I finish the whole thing.

Last night you dreamed of your family again. It was a pleasant dream, one that had you wishing to keep on dreaming even after you were woken up by your alarm. All of you were sitting at the dinner table, enjoying Alfred’s excellent cooking. The room was filled with happiness and joy, the kind of atmosphere that has you reminiscing about that day for ages. In your dream you felt so weightless, Damian was sitting opposite you as he listened to you talk about your day, an anecdote of you leading to laughter filling the room. Your mother ruffled your hair from where she was sitting beside you and as you smiled up to her you felt filled with love. Around the table, the Waynes were actively interested in the conversation and Bruce was asking you a question leading to a cheeky comment from your left side. You knew what was said, but you couldn’t understand the voice. Confused you looked to where your father should be sitting but only a distorted shadow figure looked back at you.

It opened whatever would be most akin to a mouth and a blaring sound echoed out of it. Your eyes flew open as you slapped your bedside table to grab your phone. 7 A.M, time to get up. This dream had been haunting you for a few weeks now, the idyllic family dinner turning into an unpleasant reminder of your situation. At first, you had woken up in a cold sweat and slightly fearful from the end, but by now you had grown very accustomed to it. Just another part of your day to get through.

You accepted to pay the mental price for the opportunity to see your mother again, if only during the nights.

Another look at your phone to check the notifications and you got up and got dressed. Given the time you knew that you still had enough time to join your adopted siblings for breakfast, but even Alfred's amazing pancakes and french toast could to move you into the kitchen. Deciding to just nap something from your friends during lunch break at school, you grabbed your bag and jacket before quickly making your way through the manor. Like almost every morning you silently prayed that you wouldn’t come across anyone on your way to the front door. Eighty per cent of the time you were lucky, fifteen per cent you were just ignored and the other five per cent you found yourself stuck in painfully awkward small talk with the people who lived on the same floor as you. People who were supposed to be your closest friends and confidants. People who weren’t that. People who were more akin to strangers.

Today you were in luck as you managed to slip out of the giant house you hated to call home without having to talk to anyone. Getting onto your scooter, you made your way to the school, enjoying the air in your face through the helmet and the feeling of freedom that only came to you on rare occasions.

The school was still fairly empty when you arrived - as was expected - so you had the honour of walking through the empty halls like you owned the place. A sentiment that some of your schoolmates even believed. You wanted to tell them that you had no need for your Guardians money, no interest in his family’s name or his family’s reputation. Bitter thoughts filled your mind, leaving a taste of anger, of disappointment, of anguish on your tongue. They weren’t helped by what you saw when you stopped in front of the trophy showcase. There were pictures of some of the best former student-athletes that had attended the school, and the most recognizable was a picture that was proudly displayed right on eyesight. It was at a sporting event that had happened some twenty to thirty years earlier, one that was still held bi-annually. The winners of different disciplines were smiling proudly into the camera, arms around each other.

Taking the spotlight was a man that every proud Gothamite would recognize as a young Bruce Wayne on one side, a different boy who people tended to overlook based on his less noticeable features and the lack of fame he had, and in the middle of both of them stood Bruce’s former best friend. Your mother. Your late mother.

She had been a beautiful, stunning, talented woman. Everyone who had ever known her told you that. You tried to take some solace in the fact that they told you how alike the two of you were, both in looks and in personality. It did nothing to quell the underlying pain though, the pain still boiling inside you, pain that over the years had turned into anger. You weren’t angry with your mother, of course, you knew that she had not chosen to fall sick, that she had not chosen to succumb to cancer. She had loved you with all her heart and only ever wanted you to be happy. This is why, when your grandparents died in a shooting shortly after her diagnosis, she put it in her will that after her passing you were to be taken care of by her lifelong friend Bruce Wayne. After all, he already had kids and he was rich, just like she and her parents had been - money and estates that now waited on you to turn 18 to take charge of - and he’d be surely able to give you the life and the love she always wanted you to have.

Sadly, your mother had not known Bruce quite as well as she had believed she did. She had no idea that he spent his nights as the infamous Batman, or that the kids he adopted had been turned into fighting machines - sometimes even killers. She had no idea that he was not the amazing, loving and attentive father figure she had wanted you to have. Not even close.

You suppose he had tried at one point. When you were a young child, grieving the loss of your entire family and everything that you had known, he had taken you in like one of his own and assured you that from then on he’d protect you. Back then you had believed him. After all, your mother had told you so many great things about him, why should she lie. And with elder brothers and sisters, a Butler who made sure you had your favourite foods whenever you felt sad and a man who tried his best to be the father you never had. They did lots of work to spend time with you and to pay attention to you which would ensure you wouldn’t notice their weird habits and absences. But of course that couldn’t work forever. After a few months, you found out about their best (and somehow at the same time worst) kept secret and as you walked through the Batcave by Bruce’s side everything changed. He didn’t directly offer to train you, but he did insinuate that it was an option, though you declined. You couldn’t see yourself hurting others. You wanted to help like your mom had helped, by volunteering, bettering the world peacefully. Bruce had assured you that that was a completely acceptable decision and that it wouldn’t change anything. But he had lied. Perhaps knowingly, perhaps not. Maybe some of both.

Once you were aware of their second life, they didn’t put in the effort to pay enough attention to you to make you unaware of their secret. At first, they still spent time with you, but over time it seemed like you were blending into obscurity like a special bottle of champagne that was planned to be open on a special occasion only. Just that the bottle was usually remembered after the occasion had passed in annoyance. You weren’t. And as you phased out of their minds and into oblivion, you made peace with your place in the family. An outsider, a stranger inside their house, just waiting until the time had come for you to finally live your own life.

Of course, you knew you could have it worse. You had enough money to fulfil every wish you had as long as it was material, always had something to wear, something to eat, and somewhere to sleep. The only thing you didn’t have was love. But especially in Gotham you knew that you got away rather luckily with that, so while you were deeply angry towards the people who had promised to treat you like family, to love you, you also tried to just get on with your life.

It would have been easier if it wasn’t just so hard to look at your so-called siblings as if you didn’t resent them for the way they treated you, compared to one another. Somehow showing any interest in you or attempting to spend any time with you was a chore, but somehow Jason and Cass could have a little book club, Jason and Dick could go out for lunch at a cat-cafe, Steph, Cass and Tim could have Spa-days and all of them could have an occasional movie night together. It wasn’t explicitly stated that you weren’t welcome, but you had seen how they acted when you were with them compared to how they acted when you were hiding behind the door listening in. They seemed so much happier without you. As if your mere presence ruined the mood. So you started rejecting their invitations to join and it only took one of two attempts of them to stop asking completely.

You might have been able to cope better with the obvious dismissal of your existence if it had been because you hadn’t been part of the family when they had forged their close bond, but somehow, even when Damian joined, acting like a complete asshole to everyone around him, they managed to include him and when he warmed up to them he joined their close group.

So your newness surely could not have been that big of an issue right? Even Damian, completely new to the family and surely aggressive towards all of his pseudo siblings, seemed to know you were less than the others since he didn’t even bother to insult you, instead opting to ignore you. Completely. A glance spared, looking you up and down, and he had decided you were not worth it and his opinion seemingly still hadn’t changed. Sure by now you had talked with him a few times, but you could say the same about the fucking mayor of Gotham so you were sure that did not really count.

Sometimes, you lay in your bed at night, wide awake, wondering just why you were worth so much less in their eyes. What you had done wrong. Two answers usually presented themselves before you. Either it was because you weren’t a vigilante, something that you might even have been willing to accept, or it was… you. Just you. And for some reason, that was the answer that seemed more plausible to you. Maybe you were just unpleasant to be around, not fitting enough for their family. Not interesting enough, not Wayne enough.

And so you were cursed to live your life like a ghost in what is supposed to be your home. Going in and out every day, just waiting for the day to come when you could move into the penthouse your grandparents had bought you before they died, which would become your legal property in just a few years. You’d start anew. Maybe one day, after a long time and probably a lot of therapy, you’ll be able to start your own family. One that you’d promise not to fuck up like Bruce had. Until then though, you’d go on like always, spend as little time in that Manor as possible and try to distract yourself from your reality.

You really did spend very little time at the manor. For one, no one in that house cared when you left or when you came back except maybe Alfred, but even he either knew that you could properly use the freedom or he was too busy to care. Probably a mix of both. And along with that, you had started a very active life outside of your family. You had a lot of friends, though you were not ready to call any of them close friends, always knowing about how many of them were after the publicity of your actual and current family name and the money and fame connected to it. But they were nice enough and they distracted you so you didn’t mind. Especially because you used said popularity to help the people in town. You managed to get a lot of your friends to volunteer alongside you in different homeless shelters, though a lot of them tended to post dozens of pictures which made you feel a bit icky about them trying to profit from helping others, but you knew you couldn’t complain because it did help the shelters. The shelters told you so themselves.

Most of your ‘pocket money’ was donated and the rest of the time was spent doing different activities, be it arts, sports, parties or just wasting the day away. You did your best to cram as much into your day-to-day life as you could to keep you from thinking too much. To stop you from thinking too much about how messed up you were now, how you couldn’t even confide in any of your friends, how you didn’t even really manage to call them your friends, because you couldn’t allow yourself to let anyone close to you anymore, because you knew you weren’t worth it, because you knew you’d be disappointed and hurt again.

These dark thoughts were kept inside, slowly eating at you like termites, while on the outside you kept on being the happy-go-lucky Gotham personality that people loved to follow. Though you didn’t post a lot on your own social media, your friends and people around you did, which the public loved for some reason. And so you kept up the act, because what else could you do? Let people know you’re hurting? So they could ridicule you for your rich people's problems? Or keep out of the public eye? And have to face the lonely darkness that was your life? No, you’d rather keep on pretending like you had been for years now. Even if it meant being a piece of entertainment for other people who could turn on you at any second.

The day at school was mostly uneventful, only a short moment of passing by Damian ruined your mood as your classmates did their usual shtick of asking if that wasn’t your brother and you trying to shrug them off, after all, how do you explain that your brother treated you like air not worth breathing? So you changed the topic by announcing that you’d go help out at a local shelter after school and asked if anyone wanted to join. Some excused themselves but a few agreed, which led to a group of five of you coming into the shelter a few hours later after some mandatory selfies so keep your friends placated. There was a bit more traffic inside than usual - a few people definitely not in need of help - which was probably because one of your friends posted your plans on their socials. That was something that you had to begrudgingly accept. You couldn’t afford their anger, so you made a compromise with them that they could post stuff like that, but that they couldn’t post the exact location (which in your opinion was just common sense, but it seemed not a lot of people shared that).

Ignoring the people only there to see you or be near a Wayne, you focused on helping those who needed your help, though aware of the effect you could have on the shelter business, you helped out in the kitchen where people couldn’t see you. You didn’t mind, you liked cooking and you and the fellow kitchen staff had a sort of harmonized rhythm. It even helped you get lost in thoughts that didn’t make you wanna cry, so when you got interrupted in your flow, you almost jumped in shock. One of the organizers had tapped on your shoulder.

“Y/N, there’s a man outside that wants to talk to you,” Marcus told you and nodded towards the door to the front.

“They still haven’t left? I’m really sorry Marc, if you think it’s better if I leave, then I will,” you sighed, annoyed by the turn of events.

“No, it’s not a fan. At least I think, he’s- well, he claims to have something really important to talk to you about. He gave me this to show to you, said it’ll show you he’s serious,” Marcus shrugged and held a picture out to you. It was an old Polaroid of a young couple smiling into the camera. Your breath hitched.

“Is he the guy in the picture?” you asked with a newly found seriousness.

“Yes, at least he looks like it. Is the woman-”

“Yeah, could we use the office? Only if you’re okay with it, of course.”

“Sure, no problem, go ahead, I’ll bring him to you in a minute.”

“Thank you,” you earnestly smiled at Marcus as you made your way to the door that led to the office. You were used to being nervous, but not quite as nervous as you were then. This could change a lot of things, everything if it was what you imagined it to be. You looked at the picture in your hand again before sitting down behind the desk and putting it down on the desk. There were steps behind the door coming closer, so you took a deep breath as you wiped your hands on your pant legs. The door opened and in came a man who looked just like the guy from the Polaroid. He seemed familiar, not just from that snapshot of the past, but something in his face rang a bell in your memories. You mustered him, trying to keep a stern exterior as you didn’t know if this was going to be what you thought it would be.

Marcus gestured the man to sit down on the other side of the desk, before giving you an encouraging nod and closing the door as he left.

“Hello,” you greeted the man, hands intertwined before you on the desk.

“Hello,” he responded alike and you could feel his curiosity burning through you. Had you misinterpreted this? Was this just another weird fan?

“This picture,” you looked at it again before sliding it towards him, “how do you know my mom?”

A/N: So, what do y'all think? Let me know in the comments or in my inbox ❤️ Also, I'd appreciate feedback on the title as well, not sure if I should change it or keep it.

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rainnyydaysworld · 4 months

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Reader: *coughs blood*

Dick: Don't die, Y/N!

Reader: Don't tell me what to do!

—

Bruce: And have you learnt anything this Christmas, Y/N?

Reader: …Not really.

Bruce: Nothing?

Reader: Tell you one thing I have learnt—Christmas; ultimately, commercial holiday. Who's the real winner at Christmas? Amazon. they have drones now! Tiny little dystopian slaves delivering iPads and headphones. I ordered a toaster; It was on the doorstep five hours later! Do we need that? It was 4.99! For a toaster! I mean, someone's being exploited there.

—

Steph: You know guys, sometimes I feel like Reader doesn't take me seriously enough.

Bruce: "Sometimes"?

Jason: "Enough"?

Steph:

Jason: Change that to 'at all' and we'll talk.

—

Damian: Who wants to go out of the country on a road trip?

Reader: Yea, I could drink legally!

Tim: I could hang out with the boys!

Jason: I could hide from the consequences of my actions.

—

Damian & Dick: *accidentally set the kitchen on fire*

Dick: We need an adult!

Damian: Grayson, you are an adult!

Dick: We need an adultier adult! Get Jason!

—

Reader: Hey Jason, I’ve got an idea for how to solve this.

Jason, pulling out a shotgun: Yeah?

Reader: Wh- No! That’s not the idea, Jason!

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e-nonsense · 6 months

Note

Request for batfam x estranged daughter who looks like Batdad's mom Martha💔 she's more independent and has been raised by her mother's family who she is extremely close with, but when it comes to Bruce’s side of her fam she gets awkward and shy cuz she never really interacted with them and doesn't know how to approach them which leads to misunderstandings and angsty setbacks in bonding time. But for whatever reason, she gets along great with Damian and Stephanie as if they've been friends for years. Which causes everyone else to feel left out and a bit jealous when they see the trio hanging out having a good time.

𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗦𝗧 𝗢𝗙 𝗔 𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗚 𝗚𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗪𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗡

pairing. Batfamily x batsis!reader, slight Dick Grayson x reader

summary. Reader looks startling alike to Bruce’s deceased mother, Martha Wayne.

warnings. swearing, platonic jealousy, mentions of death, horrible parenting (its Bruce), reader is like crazy rich, reader is also 22 and dick is 26. NOT PROOFREAD

authors notes. hope this is what you envisioned. no part 2 so don’t ask

wc. 1.4k

It was Alfred who made the mistake first. Accidently calling you Martha first. He couldn’t help it, you just look so much like her.

Of course he apologised right after and then nearly had a heart attack when you smiled reassuringly, “its fine Alfred.”

A kind heart to match the face of a woman long gone. The elderly man just nodded in response, deciding too keep his mouth shut from then on.

Then it was Bruce. He completely froze the day he met you, froze and stared like a creep. “Holy shit—“ He was immediately cut off by your mother’s glare at him swearing in front of you. “Sorry.”

That day went on with you being shy and awkward around him and Dick —his newly adopted son— who didn’t seem to have any interest in you at all.

“Bruce Wayne,” the man kneels in the get to eye level with a twelve year old you.

“Uh—“ you found yourself string at your mother nervously, only deciding to utter your name after she nods.

Bruce tries to smile —could you see the way his smile didn’t reach his eyes?— at you, “pretty name.”

That was the first time he had seen you, and the last — unless you count the little run ins you’ve had over the years— until ten years later. You were twenty-two, and looked even more like his deceased mother than before.

Bruce found himself watching as you gave Damian tips on the perfect brush stroke to get a texture that would look more like a cloud on canvas.

You nod and smile —one of those encouraging smiles his mother (Martha) used to give him when he got something right— “that’s it. Just try to get lighter towards the end, gives it that fluffy feeling.”

When you had decided to contact Bruce yourself ten years later it had caught him off guard but he agreed. He watched as Damian took to you immediately, the ten year old boy milking you for that motherly affection he never got from his own mother.

The validation when you pat his head and smile at him proudly at his minor achievements, something was child's play to him and yet you were so proud because of it.

The warmth you gave when you smiled in encouragement, or when you’d chuckle softly at his annoyance about one of his brothers. His brothers, not yours as well. You didn’t Bruce’s other wards as siblings, they hadn’t tried to reach out to you so you decided not to bother them with trying as well.

You were nice not stupid.

Stephanie walked into the art room you and Damian had filled with art pieces. You chuckled when the younger girl groaned and draped her arms around you, whining about some inconvenience she had been victim to earlier in the day.

You patted her head and chuckled when Damian scowled at the blonde girl, “get off her you mongrel.”

“Damian,” you say sternly and the young boy huffs before going back to painting clouds. You dragged both yourself and Stephanie towards the couch in the corner of the art filled room and listened as she whined about her day. How Bruce had scolded her about a mistake she made on the field, a minor mistake that even who would make from time to time.

You saw the tears of frustration brimming in the girls eyes and you sigh. “It’s alright Steph,” you hum softly as the girl presses her face into your shoulder.

If Damian hears the blondes sniffles he ignores it, leaving the comforting to you.

None of you speak of Stephanie’s breakdown after it happened. Opting to ignore it afterwards and move on.

Dinner later is chattier than usual, both Damian and Stephanie sitting on either side of you, giving the other member of the family zero chance to gain your attention.

Across from you sat Dick Grayson, who tried to gain your attention but continuously failed so decided to annoy his other brothers. You’re attention is finally somewhere else when Jason growls in annoyance at something Bruce had said.

“It’s for kids Bruce,” Jason seems to be seething. “Children who don’t have the luxury of getting a meal everyday.”

“I can’t trust that the money will actually go into that cause Jason,” Bruce simply sighs. You frown at that, for the first time you speak up.

“Sorry to intrude, but what are you arguing about?” Your voice isn’t timid or soft, it’s stern and had an authority quality that has Jason looking at you in shock before replying.

“Charity thing I’m tryna do,” he begins to explain. “Wanted some money to buy an empty warehouse and build a place that serves food on a daily basis to homeless people.”

You hum in response, “it’s a good idea.”

Jason beams at the praise, “thank you.” And you smile in response, “how much do you need?”

The question catches everyone off guard, “sorry?”

“How much, it’s a good idea and I’d like to help.” You ask and Jason nods.

“Well i wanted it in a good area in Gotham, might help relocate people and stuff.” You nod taking in his words. “$300,000. I need that much.”

Jason shrugs nervously as you think it through, “done.” You smile slightly, “call me if you need anymore though. I’d be happy to help.”

Jason stares at you like you’re some kind of saint, “where are you going to even get that kind of money?” He asks nervously, surely this was too good to be true. You barely knew him, why would you give up that much money so easily.

You chuckle in response, “my dad’s rich.” You pause before adding, “the man my Ma married I mean.��

“So is my Ma,” you shrug. “I inherited it all when they retired.” Jason blinks a few times, as if trying to determine if you’re actually real.

“So would you say you’re richer than Bruce?” Tim asks and you glance over at him before shrugging. “Maybe? I dunno.”

Bruce watches from the head of the table, “she is.”

You raise a brow at that, “stalking my bank account or something?”

Bruce chuckles and shakes his head, “no. But I know your father and he’s been years ahead of me for a long time.” You snort in response, “sounds like him alright.”

The rest of dinner passes and you go back to talking to Damian and Stephanie. Jason watches you three from his seat beside Dick. “Why does she only talk to them?”

Dick pauses to look at Jason and puts his fork back down onto the plate, before glancing over at you who seemed to be nodding along to whatever Damian was saying.

“Dunno,” he shrugged. “To be fair we haven’t tried to exactly reach out to her as much either.”

Jason hummed in response, “demon brats a bit attached to her though.. don’t you think?”

“Guess so, pretty sure he looks up to her.” Dick says to Jason before moving his fork towards his mouth. “Like a motherly figure or something.”

Jason snorts and Tim looks over at them, “funny. He’s got two of his siblings substituting as parental figures.”

Tim chokes on his food before laughing, “now that you’ve said it.”

Dick rolls his eyes and chuckles, “leave the kid alone. He got a shitty deal of parents.” Jason snickers but he doesn’t deny it.

Dinner finishes quickly after that, and they watch as you let Damian drag you away, Stephanie following closely behind. “You must meet batcow.” Damian says before leaning in closer to you, to whisper in your ear, “Don’t tell father but there are ducks in my room.”

You wink at him and nod, “our secret then.”

The rest of the night passes and Damian is asleep by the end of it. You find yourself back at the front door, slipping your coat on deciding to go home. “Leaving?”

You turn around quickly to see Dick Grayson, an amused look on his face and a small smile playing on his lips. “I am too,” he shrugs approaching you and reaching for his jacket. “I’ll walk you,” he offers and when you nod he grins outstretching his hand.

Nervously you take his hand in yours and let him pull you along towards the front door, “I know a great view.. I could take you?”

You smile and shrug, leaving the decision to him, “guess we’re going then. I’ll warn you though it high up and its Gotham so don’t expect it to be too pretty.”

You chuckle and he keens at the sound, he finds himself wanting to hear it again, and again, and again.

“I won’t get my hopes up then,” you smile up at him.

He grins and leads you out of the manor and onto the streets of Gotham, that coincidently happened to quite peaceful that night. He silently thanked Bruce for fucking up again, he wouldn’t get this chance if he hadn’t.

#batsis x batfam #dick grayson x reader #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #Platonic batfam #I’m writing again #yay #batsis reader #batsis

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batsis-reader · 16 days

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Batsis, peeling a banana: May I take your jacket, sir? Hahahaha.

Damian: Do you think other people can’t hear you?

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kimberly-spirits13 · 11 months

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As a joke the boys put this at Bruce’s parking space

Also I think it’s gonna be the reference for my senior parking spot. What do we think?

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randomperson3736 · 9 months

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Arm day- Batman: wayne family adventures

Paring(s): Batfam x child! Reader, Jason Todd x little sister! Reader, Dick Grayson x little sister! Reader, Tim Drake x little sister! Reader, Damian Wayne x little sister! Reader

Genre: Fluff, comedy

Warning(s): Crying, asshole brothers, sad reader

Word bank: Y/N- your name

Notes: I need some more ideas for this batfam series, so does anyone have any?

It was an exciting day for the little Y/N. Just yesterday, she got a brand new colour pencil set from her father (with the help of Alferd) that she couldn't wait to show off to everyone. The coloured pencils were stored in a large black leather case that was almost as big as her body.

Inside it were hundreds of different shades of every colour her small mind could imagine. She wanted to share her gift with her siblings, so she waited patiently on the Brown sofa in the living room. The large case next to her.

When she saw Damian walking through the halls, she smiled and run (the best that a 4 year old could run) towards her brother. Just as she was about to get to him she tripped but thankfully he caught her just before she could fall.

"Thank you Dami!" She gave him a toothy grin. Damian picked her up into his arms looking at every part of her body to make sure she didn't get hurt from tripping over. After seeing that she wasn't injured, he then smiled softly at her.

"Good morning Y/N. Why were you in a rush this early in the morning?"

She started to wiggle in his arms, so he put her down. She then (thankfully) walked back to the living room and grabbed her pencil case, dragging it along the ground cause it was a little heavy for her own body strength.

"Daddy got new colours for me!" Damain looked down at it with an unamused look "How charming"

"Do you wanna draw?" She asked with her puppy dog eyes. "I'm busy" he turned to the direction of the gym. "Oh..." Y/N said in a smile voice. Damian looked back at her. She was looking down at the case, her eyes teary up.

Feeling guilty, he cleared his throat. ".... but after I'm finished, I suppose I can entertain you for a short while"

"She looked up at Damian with twinkles in her eyes. "Really? Thank you Dami!"

After what felt like hours, she saw cass pass by with a duffle bag over her shoulder. Y/N walked up behind her and hugged her leg "Hi cass"

Cass bent down and caressed Y/N's cheek in her hand, she squessed them gently, making the young girl giggle. "Hi Y/N"

"Do wanna colour with me?" Y/N asked.

"Awww... sorry Y/N, but I have stuff to do but when I'm finished, I'll draw with you ok?" Cass pulled out her pinky and gave a wame smile to Y/N. "Oh, okay" Y/N pouted but linked her pinky with cass's.

After that Y/N found herself in the kitchen looking for dick. When she saw him, he was eating a bowl of cornflakes. Y/N stood before him, reaching up and tugged at her oldest brothers shirt. Dick stopped his eating and looked down, smiling softly at his little sister. "What's up baby bird?"

"Do u wanna colour with me?" She asked hopefully. "Sorry little bird, I can't draw with you right now. I'm in a bit of a rush but you can ask Jason or Tim. They should be around somewhere" and before Y/N could say anything, Dick drowned the last chunk of his cornflakes down and rushed down hall. Y/N huffed and went back to the sofa.

After a while, Y/N heard the voices of Jason and Tim. She saw them holding duffel bags the same one that cass had. She smiled at them before walking off to ask them to colour with her.

"Morning J, morning Timmy"

"Morning kid!" Jason Pet the top of Y/N's head.

"Good morning Y/N" Tim smiled down at her. "What's that?" He pointed to the leather case newt ro the sofa. "It's my new colours daddy got for me" she smiled up at them.

"Wow. Cool"

"Can you colour with me?"

"Sorry kid. Me and Timmy here are gonna work out. Maybe late with can" Jason said rubbing the back of his head.

"Oh, it's fine" She pouted before walking away to the staircase.

"Do you think we broke a 4 year olds heart?" Tim whispered feeling guilty.

"We probably did Timmy"

~timeskip~

Bruce walked along the halls trying to find atleast one of his kids. But he then stopped in his tracks when he heard crying? He looked at the door near his left, it was his youngest room. Why would she be crying?

He opened the door to see his little girl curled up on her bed and tears running down her face. The site in front of him, broke his heart. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?" he asked softly.

The young girl looked up her father and wiped her face before speaking. "No one wants to colour with me"

Bruce's heart broke more at hearing those words. He had to make her feel better but how? "Hey, why don't we go and get some cookies? Alferd just pulled a new batch out of the oven" He gave a warm smile.

The girls face lit up at that idea."Ok, daddy" she held out her arms signalling that she wanted to be carried, Bruce gladly took his little girl into his arms and the father and daughter made their way down to the kitchen.

~in the cave~

"Sup Damian?" Dick waved at him as he placed his towel to the side. He grabbed the gymnastic rings and turned to Jason. "Light day Jason?" He lifed his legs up and held himself up. "I was just getting warmed up actually" Jason started doing push ups with one arm. "98...99...100!"

"Pssh, that's nothing" Dick and Jason turned to look at Tim who started doing push ups with his tumbs and pointer fingers.

"You're all pathetic" Damian lifted his body up and did a handstand. "This is what you should be doing"

Jason moved next ro Damian and did the same thing. "Sorry kid your not special"

"How... about this!" Dick did a handstand with one hand using his tumb and pointer finger.

Jason, Tim, Dick and Damian were all doing the same thing together. "First one... to hundred... wins"

Cass looked over at them as she drank water. "Bad idea"

~Later that night~

The four boys were sitting around the table groaning in pain every time they moved. Cass sat perfectly fine, enjoying the meal that Alferd had made.

"Ow. So much ow" Dick threw his head back against his chair. Damian was crouching in his chair. Tim was trying to eat his dinner, with his foot. "Come on, I-I... I can do this" Jason tried tilting the plate with his head. "Can't... reach"

Cass turned to the four boys eating her food with utensils. "Told you guys it was a bad idea" Jason smashed his face into his food. Suddenly, Y/N popped up from the doorway. "Are you guys ready to colour now?"

"S-sorry Y/N... I don't think I can move my arms" Dick slowly turned his head towards her and gave a weary smile.

"But you guys said you would?" she pouted.

"Sorry Y/N" Tim muttered, dropping his spoon in the process. "Dang it" Jason muttered his Sorry through his food. "I can still draw with you Y/N" Cass held Y/N's hand and lead her out of the dinning room. Y/N turned her head towards her brothers and frowned, "You're all imbec- imbeci-...mean!" She huffed her checks out in anger.

The four boys groaned in pain and Damian shrank down in his chair in shame.

#fyp #x reader #x child read #batfam x reader #batfam x child reader #batfam x batsis #Jason todd #jason todd x reader #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #tim drake #tim drake x reader #damian wayne x sister reader #damian wayne #batboys x sister reader #bruce wayne x daughter reader #x daughter reader #batfam x sister reader #batfam

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tiajk · 4 months

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KEY

Fluff +

Crack !

Angst <|3

IDK ?

Masterlist

Blurbs

One-shots

Black batsis reader

Reader is a black batkid !+

Stories

#dc x reader #batfam x batsis reader #tiajk #Coco 🩰🎀🫧🗯️

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sugarbell · 4 months

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From the Batfam x Neglected Batsis Reader Universe.

Read First!

Age List:

Alfred: Undying

Bruce Wayne: 45

Barbara Gordon: 26

Dick Grayson: 24

Harry Osborn: 24

Jason Todd: 22 (he’s been drinking for way longer)

Tim Drake: 20

Stephanie Brown: 20

Cass Cain: 19

Lana Lang: 17-18

Damian Wayne: 16.

Clearups: This may become a yandere/dark fic story in the future, and it may not, I’m not sure yet.

The However be warned, this fic may possibly contain the following:

Yandere

Gore

Noncon

Dubcon

Death

Blood

Murder

Suicide

Stepcest

Smut

Underage Drinking

Underage Romantic Relationships With Adult Characters

-a lot more I can’t think of right now, but if any of this stuff deters you than you might wanna just skip this story. For those of you who it doesn’t deter, and if this is your kind of thing then please enjoy!-

(Also no, mc is not actually Lana Lang from the DC Comics, but I did use her name because I thought it was ✨pretty✨)

Also, mc is Japanese-American. She has a white mom, and a Japanese father. She has freckles, long dark hair, a petite and short build, medium-small sized breasts, pinkish-red lips, and slender doe eyes. If it bothers you than again, you might want to skip this story.

Harry Osborn, let’s just say him and OsCorp are in DC in Gotham instead if Marvel, okay?

Cast List?

Alfred: Michael Gough

Bruce Wayne: Christian Bale

Eleanor Joy-Lang: Adelaide Kane

Barbara Gordon: Megan West

Dick Grayson: Steven R, McQueen

Jason Todd: Jacob Elordi

Harry Osborn: Dane Dehaan

Tim Drake: Timothee Chalamet

Stephanie Brown: Chloe Grace Moretz

Lana Lang: ???

Damian Wayne: Aidan Gallagher

Also, I will die with my grammatical errors. Some I may correct if I find the time, but a lot I probably won’t because I’m too busy writing.

This page will update regularly, and you can use it as a sort of reference guide just to make sure that you don’t get confused with certain characters, (for instance, Harry) that may belong in other universes but are being moved here. Some characters hero names may be changed in order to fit the story.

(For example, Black Canary. Just for the sake of the story, I’m changing her hero name to “Songbird.” In this universe, it always has been, always will be. Reason for this is because reader’s hero name will be Red Canary, however, reader isn’t Black Canary’s protégé or anything. They may know each other later on, they may not.)

—I think that’s about it! Enjoy!—

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sleepydeprived · 3 months

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A Chance for Redemption

—A mysterious high school student appears out of the blue, bearing the face of the late Martha Wayne and puzzling even Gotham’s greatest detectives.

[chapter 1]

| Platonic!Yandere!Batfam x Reader

| Inspired by the work of @e-nonsense “GHOST OF A LONG GONE WOMAN”

The Gotham City skyline stretched across the horizon, its towering structures standing as silent guardians in the night. Inside the dimly lit study of Wayne Manor, Bruce Wayne sat alone amidst shadows that mirrored the complexities of his own mind.

A sudden beep from the Batcomputer broke the stillness. Bruce glanced at the screen, and his piercing gaze narrowed at the news report flashing across the monitor. The headline sent a ripple through him.

"Wayne Heiress Emerges: Striking Resemblance to Late Martha Wayne. Who is she?"

His heartbeat quickened as images of the young girl filled the screen. The uncanny resemblance to his late mother, Martha, struck him like a blow. The gentle curve of her smile, the warmth in her eyes — it was as if a much younger version of Martha had been reborn in a face he had never known.

For a moment, the air in the study thickened with silence. Bruce's jaw tightened, and a flood of memories surged, carrying him back to the night of his parents' tragedy. He saw Martha's face, radiant and full of life, before the darkness took her away. Now, that same face stared back at him from the screen.

"What is this?" Bruce muttered to himself, his fingers tapping impatiently on the polished surface of the mahogany desk.

With a decisive gesture, he rose from his seat and moved toward the Batcave. Alfred, his ever-watchful confidant, observed the turmoil in Bruce's eyes.

"Master Wayne, might I inquire about the cause of your distress?" Alfred's calm voice cut through the tension.

Bruce handed Alfred a tablet displaying the news report. As Alfred scanned the images, the lines on his forehead deepened in concern.

"An unexpected development, sir. Shall I investigate further?" Alfred offered, his loyalty unwavering.

"No, Alfred. I'll handle this myself,"

In the heart of the Batcave, surrounded by the symbols of his dual life, Bruce Wayne accessed the Batcomputer with purpose, initiating a search that would unravel the truth behind the possible Wayne heiress.

As information unfolded on the screen, Bruce's stoic demeanor flickered with a kaleidoscope of emotions. The mystery of his potential blood-related daughter, bearing the face of his beloved mother, demanded answers that eluded even the World's Greatest Detective.

In the shadows of Wayne Manor, a silent storm brewed. All veiled behind the haunting gaze of a daughter who bore the visage of a long-lost woman.

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kazuko-stuff · 2 months

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If Wayne! Reader just gets kidnap by the League of Assassins in hopes of drawing Batman out since he is daughter and he, nightwing and Damian saves her but during the whole time, she just have nice talk about life with Ra’s Al Ghul along with being civil with Talia, while waiting. Nightwing wants to saves his princess while Batman being a worry dad and damian being a worried little brother , but when they get there, she unharmed and was just chatting with Ra’s Al Ghul

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #nightwing x reader #bruce wayne x reader #damian wayne x reader #batfam x batsis #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #bruce wayne #batman #dc fanfic #my silly little posts

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tsuvvy · 3 months

Note

Damian would never admit it but he actually loves coloring with little sister reader 😚 It’s such a nice stress reliever for him after a chaotic day as a teenage vigilante. Would love to see you write this!!

Color Therapy

Pairing: Damian Wayne x youngest sibling reader

Summary: Damian couldn't deny you were sweeter than you put yourself off to be. And, coloring was more therapeutic than he was expecting.

Warnings: Mentions of you living on Gotham streets and being homeless, mention of robberies, nothing really bad in this though

Word Count: 1.2k

You were an odd kid, that's for sure. You were younger than Damian, about a year or two, so he had expected someone more.. Childlike.

But you were an indifferent kid. You obviously came from a rough background, having grown up on the streets of Gotham. But still. His point stands when he was expecting someone more childlike.

You never reacted to the glares or scowls you received from him. You only returned his mean, annoyed gazes with a calm, unconcerned one of your own. Slowly, Damian had stopped giving you these scowls and glares.

And slowly, his school and vigilante work started to take up most of his time. He'd started visiting the library more often to study for his exams and finish his homework. And with that, he noticed something. He'd noticed it was common for him to find you within the library with a sheet of paper and just some highlighters. Usually, he'd just ignore your presence and sit elsewhere in the library.

He doesn't know why, but. He just started sitting with you. Neither of you would say a word. You would just sit in the comfortable silence filled with your coloring of highlighters on paper, and Damian’s typing of keys on his computer and turning of book pages.

“Y/n,” he finally spoke your name after a few days. You looked up at him. “Why do you only have highlighters?”

You looked down at your piece of paper for a second before saying, “They were all I could find.” You looked back up at him. Damian and you left that conversation there.

But the next time he came to the library, he dropped a pack of nice colored pencils in front of you.

You stared at the pencils for a moment before looking up at him. He caught your gaze.

“What?” He asked, looking back down at the book he had for his homework.

“Wanna color with me?” You asked abruptly. It made Damian pause in his tracks. He looked up at you, his gaze flitting to your paper, the highlighters, and the colored pencils he'd just given you.

“No.” He said, looking back at his book. But something kept him from reading. “Thank you, though..” His voice was quieter.

Nights like this tired Damian out. It was a stressful night. It was just supposed to be a patrol. But there were a string of robberies out of seemingly nowhere. He was exhausted.

And now he was slugging throughout the halls. He yawned just as he passed an agape door. He glanced through the crack. And what he saw made him stop in his tracks.

You were laying on the floor of your room coloring with the pencils he had given you. He didn't know why he stepped forward to your door. And he didn't know why he pushed it open.

You looked up at him. And he looked back at you. You seem to understand what even Damian couldn't.

“Wanna color?” You asked again like you had earlier.

Damian glanced down the hall to his room before looking back at you and your coloring stuff.

“Fine..” He gave in, stepping into your room and sitting on the floor across from you. He took the paper you handed him and grabbed a few colored pencils from the box you had moved closer to him.

It took him a moment to decide what he wanted to draw. But when he began to draw, it was weird.

His head was empty and it just seemed so.. Simple? He was calm..

“Can I use the red?” You asked, your hand was out awaiting for the red pencil.

“Yeah,” He put the red colored pencil in your hand.

Damian sighed as he put a textbook he had acquired from math on the library table.

Damian glanced at you from across the table, you were coloring like always. Then he looked down at his homework. He didn't want to do this. He never did. Homework was annoying. And you seemed to read his mind, because without even looking at him, you passed him a sheet of paper and moved the box closer to him.

Damian closed his computer and stood up from his seat. He moved to one next to you so you could both share the pencils better.

Damian could practically feel his stress and annoyance slowly wash off of him.

“Purple please,” You asked him.

“Mhm,” He hummed, finishing the area he needed to with the purple before he placed it into your hand.

“Damian,” you called his name within the halls of school.

“What?” He looked down at you when you took up pace with him.

“All the colored pencils in the box you gave me are short and hard to use now,” You told him, looking up at him.

“Alright,” He looked ahead, “I’ll get some more, then.”

“Could you get a bigger box with more variety in colors?” You asked.

“Yeah, I can.” He nodded.

“Thank you!” You said, hugging his arm abruptly before running off to class, joining a few kids you had made at the very least acquaintances with.

The way you hugged his arm startled him, he hadn’t expected it. He watched you run off, his heart feeling like it’s blooming like a flower.

Damian dropped the box in front of you where you sat on the floor of your room. He took a seat across from you much like he had the first time he joined you for coloring.

You looked at the back where the names of all the colors were, and sure enough, there was more of a variety like you had requested.

You passed him a piece of paper and put the box in between you two so you both could reach it.

“Why do you color so much?” Damian asked you.

“My head is quiet when I do.” You replied.

Damian paused in his coloring, looking up at you. “What do you think about when you don’t?”

You were quiet for a moment. “What I saw growing up on the streets of Gotham.” He didn’t need you to go into detail to know what that short sentence implied.

He looked backed down at his sheet of paper. He put the pencil he had down.

“Are you using the light green?” He asked. You shook your head and handed him the light green pencil.

You two were quiet for awhile. Silently coloring in a comfortable silence.

“You know you’re safe here, right?” He looked at you, and you finally looked back at him. “You’re here for good, you aren’t going anywhere.”

You stayed quiet.

“You’re safe here.”

You stayed quiet.

“Say something.”

“Thank you.”

Damian looked back down at his sheet of paper at your words, taking it as your understanding of his words.

Damian usually thinks of his own traumas when nothing occupies his brain. Or he’s doing homework. Or he’s fighting crime.

He doesn’t often give himself moments of peace.

But when he’s coloring with you in a comfortable silence like he is now. It’s like for once, a moment of peace washes over him.

He hated to admit it. But you and your dumb coloring were nice. It was nice for him to finally have a quiet moment.

Damian hates being vulnerable, and he feels almost vulnerable.

But he couldn’t deny it anymore. These moments were therapeutic.

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