Hi im new here on tumblr, I would just like to say that I love batman and the batfam, and I will or will not be making post here. Don't know how its gonna turn out but I'll try sooo bare with me 😅
u know beta Bruce where betas go in to protective overdrive and Alfred locking him away so he couldn't act on his protectiveness
so what if bc Alfred is the only other beta Batfam really know they expect Bruce to also just have a distant role of care in the pack, ensuring theres food etc when nesting, but dont expect him to want to engage in the pack nest/ cuddles/ scenting
Bruce would like to but he's been rejected bc they dont know what betas need based on Alfred and he continues to lock himself away, cue JL member or friend who's beta realising and then idk
Betas present with Brooding (trapping and looking after their pack), and usually that's it, their instincts settle and they just take care of their pack from their forward, not operating on the same repetitive system as alphas and omegas. But there's a rare phenomenon wherein betas go through another brood, where they essentially have a second presentation.
It happens when betas don't have an outlet for all of those instincts for a long time, their body's way of giving them no choice but to find someone to look after.
But Bruce's first brood was spent locked in his room. Years later, Alfred finds Bruce cuddling Dick, untangling the knots in his hair by hand, and locks him away again. Dick asks why he can hear Bruce in pain, and Alfred has him stay in a separate wing of the house until Bruce's brood is over.
The next time it rolls around again, when Jason is fourteen, Bruce has understood it's unbecoming. Betas should be seen and not heard, they shouldn't try to play an active role in the pack. What do you mean Alfred does? No, he's just the butler. It's his job.
Over time, his broods get further and further apart. His body learns to ignore what it needs. Alfred is the Pack Beta. They don't have room for another. Alfred controls the needs of the children, and rules Bruce's instincts too, in control of every single part of the pack. He is not giving up that power.
It's years later, two or three broods on, and Bruce is on a mission. He knows what it feels like, by now, when his body is preparing to go into one, but they're still days away from reaching Earth again. It's deliberate, an attempt by his body to find a new pack since brooding around the kids hasn't worked. He can't lock humself away, his mind takes that as permission to succumb to his instincts, so he's forced to withstand the looks from other members of the League as he becomes visibly ill, pale, sweaty, white-knuckling the arms of his chair whenever one of the drifts too close so he doesn't reach out to them.
They finally dock and Bruce is the first one out, stalking through the halls until he finally meets the blissful emptiness of his bunk room, locks the door behind him, and gives in.
He's unaware that his team is meeting without him, worried. Diana is the one that volunteers to check on him, and knocks on his door. There's no answer, and she quietly unlocks a disguised panel nearby, behind which is the CCTV to his room.
Then she rips off the door, and Bruce pauses in his pacing within an utterly destroyed room. Then he chirps happily and pulls the alpha further into the room, settling her into a shredded pile of bedclothes like it's a chair, and plants himself in front of her to watch the door.
"Bruce," she calls gently, and is met with completely blown pupils, all semblance of blue swallowed by black. "Oh."
Broods are rare, but the signs are fear-mongered, so everyone looks after their betas. It isn't normal to have them, not like the estrous cycle that rules the others, and packs are investigated for letting their betas get to that state.
She tries to get up, to fetch the others, but finds herself tackled to the ground, and Bruce plants a knee on her chest, growling low. Abruptly, it becomes clear to Diana she is not leaving.
She reassures Bruce, rumbling soothingly at him, and he relaxes, turning back to the door. She calls out to Clark instead, telling him quietly what's going on.
She isn't sure he heard her until Bruce sits up snarling, and their team members stand in the doorway. Diana reaches past Bruce, whispering promises that they're safe, and they enter the room, carrying sustenance and nesting supplies, and Bruce changes his tune, moving forward so they sit behind him too, and keeps watching the door.
It becomes clear, nearly an hour later, that this is all Bruce knows how to do. "When was the last time he actually acted like a beta?" Diana asks in horror, and no one can answer her.
Because the only way Bruce managed to supplement his instincts was by keeping his pack safe. If they're safe he's meeting their needs, right? But he never learnt how to do anything else.
Alfred made sure he never learnt how to do anything else.
In front of him was his big brother, and Jason wished he wasn't wearing that damn domino mask so he could look at the blue eyes that had almost faded from his memory.
"Lower the gun... You've taken enough lives for today" Nightwing said carefully, looking at the bodies laying around.
The only reason he hadn't jumped the stranger yet, was because, by the looks of it, he had protected Tim.
"... You really think his life is worth saving? He was raping an omega on the other room!" Jason growled, forcing his voice a tone deeper.
He knew it was unlikely Dick would recognize him by voice, especially because he didn't sound the same way as when he had died. But he didn't want to take chances.
"I think it's not our place to decide who lives or dies" Dick replied carefully "Don't do this... I don't want to fight you" he took a small step towards the other.
Jason glanced at the man on his knees and then at Dick, feeling a bit disappointed.
Dick didn't want him to kill a rapist...
He probably hadn't wanted to kill the Joker to avenge Jason either...
"... Seems like you'll have to anyways" without hesitating, Jason pulled the trigger.
The gunshot resonated through the building and the man collapsed to the floor, dead.
But Jason didn't stop, he started emptying the magazine on the man's crotch, his face under the mask twisted in disgust.
"No!" Dick growled and jumped at Jason, tackling him to the floor.
Jason went with it, growling back at Dick, blocking the hit of the sticks with his gun and his knife.
A part of him wanted to cry... This was his pack... Meant to protect him... Not attack him...
"Night...wing" Tim's weak voice caught Dick's attention, making him glance back at his little brother.
Jason took the chance, he clocked Nightwing on the face with a punch, threw him off himself, raising to his feet and jumping off the building.
The truth is Tim’s an omega. An omega who’s been masquerading as a beta his entire life. For the most part, it’s been easy, keeping up with the charade and playing the part.
But sadly nothing lasts forever and when his dealer gives him the wrong set of suppressants, Tim finds himself in a situation he’d never expected to be in.
The Riddler probably has such an up and down relationship with the Robins because they all tend to tackle things differently and he’s always so thrown by how they handle his riddles.
The Riddler: To free Batman from my trap, you must answer this riddle, little bird. I speak without a mouth and hear without ears. I have no body, but I come alive with wind. What am I?
Dick, eight years old and freshly Robin: *thinking really hard*
The Riddler looking at Batman dangling upside down: ?
Batman: He just needs an extra minute.
The Riddler:
Batman: English isn’t his first langauge.
The Riddler, feeling a little bad: oh, that’s… take your time, buddy.
Jason, twelve years old: *lifting a hand*
The Riddler: -uh, yes?
Jason: Can you repeat that? The riddle?
The Riddler: um, yeah, sure. I have cities, but no houses. I have mountains, but no trees. I have water, but no fish. What am I?
Jason: Yeah, you’re a map but when you’re talking about multiple species of fish, which you probably are, you can say fishes. If you’re using fish, you’re only talking about one species.
The Riddler:
Jason: I just think you should know that. You know as a “genius”
The Riddler: The more you take, the more you -
Tim: Footsteps, where’s Batman?
The Riddler: No, you have to let me-
Tim: Nuh-uh
The Riddler: The fuck do you mean “nuh-uh”? Who raised you?
Tim, on two hours sleep, with two essays due on this fine Thursday night: *fucking launches himself at The Riddler*
The Riddler: I wear a mask but not to hide,
Steph: It's you. You're the answer.
The Riddler: You have to let me finish.
Steph, mimicking him: YOu HaVE tO LEt mE FIniSH
The Riddler: I have-
Damian: *launches himself at the Riddler*
The Riddler: Batman, fuck, FUCK, he’s fucking biting me-
Hii so i woul like to find a fic thats like an MC does something random like just a normal day for her and she falls asleep on her couch, later she wakes up and is confused because this clearly isn't her living room and what is going on, and she basically somehow telepors to the DC universe and somehow the bats find her and they all fall in love with her and the all get together with her and its all sweet or like with a bit of angst,. Is that too much to ask 😭😭😭
Im hoping someone has found something like this or written and could help me, and tag me or drop a link or sm please and thank you have a nice day/night/afternoon 😄
plot! damian's girlfriend was something out of place in his carefully ordered world. whimsical, playful, almost maddeningly warm in the way she carried herself. where damian was steel and measured silence, she was sunlight and sudden laughter. damian x whimsy girl meeting batfam
a/n: thank you so much for the request sweetie!!
𐙚⋆.˚ dick version
Damian Wayne was not the type of boy anyone associated with warmth. Even his peers at Gotham Academy had long since decided that he was cold, precise, too sharp in speech to ever soften into something resembling kindness. Teachers found him intimidating; classmates found him standoffish. It suited him well enough. Damian didn’t care to be understood by those who couldn’t see past the edge of his words.
But then there were you.
You were something out of place in his carefully ordered world. Whimsical, playful, almost maddeningly warm in the way you carried herself. Where Damian was steel and measured silence, you were sunlight and sudden laughter. You made things with your hands, beads threaded with twine, braided cords dyed in soft pastels, charms knotted into bracelets or necklaces. And somehow, you decided to make them for him.
At first, he resisted. “I do not wear trinkets” he had scoffed the first time you handed him a bracelet.
It was simple: black cord with a single jade bead in the center. Nothing extravagant, nothing flashy. Just thoughtful. You had smiled in that knowing way, tilted your head, and said “It’s not a trinket. It’s mine. You’ll wear it because I made it.”
And he did.
Not only that, but as the weeks passed, more of them appeared.
A necklace with a small carved bird charm. A braided bracelet of green, black, and gold. Another of soft blues. A tiny woven piece with his initials stitched in thread so fine she’d squinted for hours to finish it. Damian wore them all, never at the same time, of course. That would be ridiculous. No, Damian created a system.
Each morning, he stood at his dresser and carefully chose which bracelet or necklace to wear that day, rotating through them so that each one had equal time. Equal attention. It was the sort of thing no one would expect of him, but he took the routine seriously.
Tonight was no different.
The glow of his lamp lit his room as he stood in front of the mirror, brushing his fingers over the collection laid neatly in a row on the dresser. He selected a braided cord bracelet in deep green, fastening it around his wrist with care. His lips curved, barely, but enough to be seen, as he thought of your reaction when you noticed he’d kept your rotation perfectly balanced.
His phone buzzed, the special tone he’d set for your messages.
you: did you rotate again today? be honest dami
him: Of course. Do you take me for someone careless?
you: i take you for someone secretly sentimental :p
him: Ridiculous assumption.
Still, he found himself smirking faintly, the corner of his mouth betraying him.
The two of you met in secret most days, tucked into stolen corners of Gotham where Damian could keep you away from the chaos of his family.
It wasn’t shame, he didn’t hide you because he doubted your place in his life.
No, it was protection.
His family was a storm. A swarm of watchful eyes, too many questions, too much scrutiny. You weren't ready for that. He wasn’t ready to let them near your warmth. Not yet.
You were sitting together now on the steps of the conservatory at the Gotham Botanical Gardens, long after closing. Damian had slipped them in with ease. The air was rich with the scent of orchids and damp earth. You leaned your head against his shoulder, your hair brushing his jaw as you fiddled with a half finished bracelet.
“You know,” you said softly, your voice lilting like you were talking about something casual and not prying into his carefully guarded habits, “you don’t have to rotate them like a soldier on patrol. You could just… pick the one you like best.”
“I refuse” Damian replied, firm as ever. “You put time and effort into each of them. It would be disrespectful to show favoritism.”
Your laughter chimed through the conservatory. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You say that often” he muttered.
“Because you are” You lifted the bracelet you were working on and tied off the end, sliding it onto his wrist alongside the green one he’d chosen earlier. Two at once, breaking his order. His brows furrowed immediately.
“I already—”
“Shh” You pressed your finger against his lips, smiling mischievously. “Just let me break your perfect little system once. For me.”
He stared at you for a long moment, caught between irritation and reluctant amusement. Finally, he exhaled. “Fine. But tomorrow, I will resume the schedule.”
Your grin widened. “You’re impossible, Damian Wayne.”
“And yet you persist in making me jewelry.”
Damian wasn’t used to softness. He wasn’t used to anyone giving him things without asking for something in return. Every bracelet you made him, every necklace you pressed into his palm with a gentle, expectant look, it disarmed him.
Not because he didn’t value them, but because he valued them too much.
At night, when he returned to the Manor, he tucked each piece safely away in a lined drawer. His brothers noticed sometimes.
“Is that a friendship bracelet?” Jason had asked once, smirking when Damian had walked through the training room with a cord around his wrist.
“It’s none of your business” Damian snapped.
Jason had laughed, loud and obnoxious. “Oh, that’s an answer. Kid’s got a girlfriend.”
Damian didn’t dignify him with a response, though his jaw tightened. His brothers didn’t need to know. Not yet. Especially not Grayson, who would no doubt insist on some nauseatingly supportive older brother speech.
You didn’t ask about his family much. You were content to exist in their bubble of stolen hours, in the warmth they built away from Wayne Manor. But sometimes, your whimsical curiosity peeked through.
“Do you think they’d like me?” you asked one evening as they lay sprawled on the grass of Robinson Park.
Damian paused. The stars were faint above Gotham’s haze, but he kept his gaze on them. “That is irrelevant.”
You poked his side. “That’s not an answer.”
“They would find you… overwhelming.”
“Overwhelming?”
“You are—” He cut himself off, struggling with the word. Sentimental confessions were not his specialty. “—you are a lot. In ways that they are not prepared for.”
You tilted your head, your smile soft. “But you like me.”
Damian turned his head finally, meeting your gaze with a seriousness that pinned you in place. “Yes. I do.”
Your heart flipped at the rare, raw honesty in his tone.
And so, day after day, Damian Wayne—assassin, son of Batman, boy of blades and shadows, walked through Gotham wearing a simple bracelet, or a necklace with a tiny charm. Nobody outside your bubble knew why. Nobody outside your bubble needed to.
Because each piece was yours.
Each piece was a quiet tether to the warmth he guarded so carefully from the rest of the world.
And until the day he was ready to bring you into the storm of his family, he would keep wearing them, one by one, in perfect balance.
Damian was not easily rattled.
His composure had been carved into him by league training, sharpened further by his years under his father’s mantle. But tonight, as he stood in front of the massive doors of Wayne Manor with his girlfriend at his side, he could feel something alien creeping into his chest.
Nervousness.
“Tt” He scowled faintly, as if annoyed at himself. “This is unnecessary. I should have denied Grayson’s insufferable insistence that you ‘come by for dinner.’”
You were practically glowing beside him, your eyes wide as you took in the grand entryway, the stone arches, the ivy curling up the walls. “Damian, are you kidding me? I’ve been waiting forever for this. Of course I want to meet them.”
“You say that now" he muttered, pushing open the door, “but you have yet to endure their… dramatics.”
The warmth of the manor spilled into the night as Alfred appeared in the doorway, his posture impeccable as always. “Master Damian. And…” His eyes softened instantly as he turned to you, his voice dipping with gentle amusement. “You must be the young lady we have heard absolutely nothing about.”
Your cheeks flushed, but you extended your hand warmly. “That’s me. It’s so nice to finally meet you, Mr. Pennyworth.”
“Please, call me Alfred.” He shook your hand politely, but when he glanced at Damian, his expression held a glint of I told you so. “Dinner is prepared. The others are already waiting.”
Damian’s jaw clenched. Of course they were.
The dining room was alive with chatter when you entered. Dick was leaning back in his chair, balancing precariously on two legs, while Jason had his boots kicked up on the edge of the table until Bruce shot him a look. Tim sat with his laptop open beside his plate, typing one handed while sipping coffee with the other. Cassandra was quietly picking at her salad, though her sharp eyes immediately flicked toward the doorway.
And then the room went quiet.
Every head turned toward Damian and the girl at his side.
“Oh, hell no” Jason grinned like a wolf, slamming his boots down as he leaned forward. “The demon actually brought home a girlfriend?”
Your laugh bubbled out before you could stop it. “Girlfriend?” you teased, glancing up at Damian. “I thought you said they wouldn’t notice.”
Damian’s ears went faintly red. “Tt. Todd, shut your mouth.”
But Jason was already on his feet, striding over with all the subtlety of a thunderstorm. “You poor thing. Blink twice if he’s holding you here against your will.”
Before Damian could snap, you giggled and extended your hand. “Hi. You must be Jason.”
Jason blinked, thrown for a second at your warmth. He shook your hand and let out a short laugh. “Oh yeah. She’s way too nice for you, kid.”
“Todd.” Damian’s voice was a dangerous growl, but it only made Jason grin wider.
“Easy, little brother. I’m just saying she could’ve done better.”
Dick had gotten up by now too, far gentler in his approach. “Ignore him,” he said warmly, taking your hand in both of his. “I’m Dick. Damian’s older brother. We’ve… been waiting for this introduction for a while.”
“You have?” You blinked, surprised.
“Yeah,” Tim muttered dryly from the table without looking up from his laptop. “Because Damian’s been walking around here for months with mystery bracelets like he’s starring in his own teen soap opera.”
Your eyes widened, and then you slowly turned to Damian. “Wait… they noticed?”
Jason let out a bark of laughter. “Oh, everyone noticed, sweetheart. He’s been swapping them out like clockwork. Thought he was sneaky, didn’t you?”
Damian looked like he wanted to sink into the floor. His fists curled at his sides. “You all have the observational skills of barn animals.”
Cassandra’s quiet voice cut through, calm but amused: “He likes them. A lot.”
Your cheeks warmed, but you smiled brightly, leaning closer to Damian as if to shield him from their teasing. “Well, I’m glad you noticed. I worked hard on each one.”
“Worked hard?” Jason echoed, striding back to his chair. “She handmade them? Oh, this is gold.”
“Enough” Bruce’s voice finally cut in, low and commanding. He hadn’t left his seat, but his gaze was steady on Damian’s girlfriend. “Welcome. Please—sit.”
Alfred was already pulling out a chair for you beside Damian, who muttered something under his breath as he guided you to sit down. You whispered softly in his ear “You’re glaring so hard you’re going to burn holes through the table.”
“Good,” he hissed back. “Perhaps Todd will fall through one.”
Dinner was chaos, as expected.
Jason asked endless questions.
"So, how’d you meet him? Was it like a broody library thing or did he actually smile once?”, while Dick tried to steer the conversation into gentler waters. Tim occasionally snorted into his coffee whenever Damian got flustered, while Cassandra observed silently, occasionally throwing in a pointed, “He stares at you when you’re not looking.”
Your face burned at that, but you laughed it off, squeezing Damian’s knee under the table when he nearly choked on his water.
Bruce, for the most part, watched.
He didn’t pry, didn’t tease, but when Alfred leaned down to refill his glass, the corner of his mouth twitched in something dangerously close to a smile.
Halfway through the meal, Jason finally pointed at Damian’s wrist. “So, which one is that today?”
“The green braid” Tim answered before Damian could. “He wore the bird charm yesterday.”
“You’re tracking them?” Damian snapped, aghast.
Jason leaned back in his chair, cackling. “Oh, this is the best night I’ve had in months.”
"Master Todd” Alfred said dryly, “perhaps you might focus on the food.”
After dinner, while the others drifted into the living room for coffee, Damian pulled you aside into the quieter hallway. His jaw was still tight, but his hand lingered at the small of her back.
“I warned you they were insufferable.”
You leaned into him, your smile warm despite his stormy expression. “They were amazing.”
“Amazing? Todd interrogated you like a criminal. Drake catalogued your jewelry. Cassandra—”
“Cassandra noticed that you stare at me.” Your smile softened, eyes searching his. “Which is sweet, by the way.”
Damian went silent, his throat tightening.
“And your dad didn’t say much” you added, your voice dropping conspiratorially. “But he didn’t have to. He looked at me the same way you look at me sometimes.”
He frowned. “Which is?”
“Like you’ve already decided I belong here.”
For once, Damian had no retort.
He only reached for your wrist, his thumb brushing over the newest bracelet you'd tied there earlier. And though his ears burned at the thought of his brothers’ inevitable teasing, he didn’t care.
Because you were here.
And despite his family’s chaos, despite their endless noise and meddling, you had smiled through it all. You had fit.
Perhaps more than Damian had ever dared hope.
The night should have ended there.
Dinner, introductions, the polite farewell. Damian would have escorted you back to your place, away from the chaos, away from the noise. That was the plan.
But his family didn’t operate on plans.
The moment you excused herself to step into the kitchen with Alfred to help carry in dessert, the dining room shifted like blood in water. Jason leaned across the table, grinning ear to ear.
“Alright. Spill it, kid. How’d you convince someone like that to put up with you?”
“Tt.” Damian’s scowl was sharp enough to cut glass. “I do not need to convince anyone. She chooses to be here.”
“Yeah, but—” Jason jabbed a thumb toward the kitchen doorway. “She’s all sunshine and rainbows and… handmade friendship bracelets. You’re… well, you.”
“Meaning?” Damian’s tone dripped acid.
“Meaning you’re about as warm as a damn iceberg.” Jason leaned back smugly. “Don’t get me wrong, proud of you, kid. But you gotta admit, she’s way out of your league.”
“Shut your mouth, Todd, before I sew it shut.”
Dick laughed from his end of the table, shaking his head. “Relax, Damian. Jason’s just jealous. It’s actually really great that you found someone who balances you out. She’s sweet.”
“Too sweet,” Tim muttered, not looking up from his laptop. “I give it three weeks before she realizes he organizes her jewelry like a catalogued weapons cache and bolts.”
Damian slammed his palm flat on the table. “She will do no such thing!”
Tim only smirked faintly, fingers still flying over the keys.
Cassandra finally spoke, her voice quiet but sure: “She makes him softer.” Her dark eyes landed on Damian, studying him with the same intensity she gave every opponent she’d ever faced. “That’s good.”
Damian blinked, his anger slipping for a moment.
Soft wasn’t a word ever attached to him, not without mockery. But Cassandra’s tone wasn’t mocking. It was matter-of-fact. Almost approving.
Jason snorted. “Soft? The kid? No way.”
“Soft for her” Cassandra added.
Damian’s cheeks betrayed him then, the faintest flush crawling across his ears. Jason spotted it instantly. “Oh my god—he blushes. This is the best night of my life.”
By the time you returned, balancing a tray of Alfred’s lemon tarts, the brothers snapped into mock-innocence. Jason was smirking, Dick looked far too pleased, Tim studiously pretended he was coding, and Cassandra had settled into her seat with serene silence.
You set the tray down, eyes flicking between them. “…What did I miss?”
“Nothing” Damian said too quickly.
Jason barked a laugh. “Absolutely everything, sweetheart. You’re dating Gotham’s grumpiest cryptid, and now it’s family game night.”
Your brows lifted in amusement, but instead of prying, you leaned over Damian’s chair, brushing a kiss against his temple. “I like your family” you whispered softly. “They’re loud, but I like them.”
Damian’s chest tightened. He muttered back, “You’re deranged.”
But his hand found yours under the table, squeezing once.
Dessert passed in relative peace, mostly thanks to Alfred’s quiet authority keeping Jason from another round of interrogation. When you excused herself to the restroom, though, Bruce finally spoke for the first time since his formal welcome.
He set his fork down deliberately, his gaze steady on Damian. “She’s good for you.”
Damian straightened. “I did not ask for your opinion.”
“It wasn’t a request” Bruce said simply. His tone was mild, but the weight of it made the others glance up. “I can see the difference in you. You guard yourself less around her. That’s… rare. And valuable.”
Jason groaned. “Don’t tell me you’re giving him the Bat-Approved-Relationship speech. He’s, what, twelve?”
“Sixteen,” Damian corrected stiffly.
Dick leaned forward, smiling faintly. “He’s right, though. You’re different when she’s around. It’s not a bad thing.”
Damian bristled. “You are all insufferable. My personal affairs are not open for dissection.”
“Too late” Tim muttered.
Bruce ignored the squabbling. He only added, “Protect her. But don’t cage her. She doesn’t strike me as the type who’d stay if you did.”
For once, Damian had no sharp retort.
He only dipped his head, acknowledging the truth in his father’s words.
When you returned, the atmosphere had shifted again, less biting, more subdued. But Cassandra was waiting.
As you stood to leave, Cassandra rose silently and touched your arm. “Walk with me.”
Damian stiffened immediately. “Cain—”
But Cassandra silenced him with a single glance. She led you down the hall, her steps soundless, her presence steady.
“You’re not afraid of him” Cassandra said finally, once they were alone. It wasn’t a question.
You tilted your head. “Of Damian? No. Why would I be?”
Cassandra studied you for a long moment, her gaze sharp but not unkind. “He’s… sharp edges. You are… open hands.” She paused, searching for words. “That can hurt. Or help. Depends.”
Your brow furrowed slightly, but you smiled softly. “I don’t mind sharp edges. I think sometimes people need them. But even sharp edges deserve someone who won’t bleed out when they get too close.”
Cassandra’s lips twitched, the smallest hint of approval. “Good.” She touched your wrist, brushing the braided bracelet you'd tied on earlier. “Keep making these. He pretends order, but he needs… reminders.”
“Reminders?”
“That someone sees him.”
Your chest ached at the quiet wisdom in Cassandra’s tone, but you nodded. “I’ll keep making them.”
Cassandra gave one small nod in return before leading you back.
The night ended with Damian ushering you toward the car waiting to take you home. His grip on your hand was firmer than usual, his scowl deepened by every step.
“You see? I warned you. They interrogated you, mocked me, embarrassed us both—”
You cut him off with a laugh, tugging his hand until he stopped just short of the door. “Damian. I loved it.”
He stared at you, dumbfounded.
“Your family is… chaotic, sure. But they care. A lot. Even if they show it in… weird ways.” Your thumb brushed over his knuckles, soft and deliberate. “And I think they care because they know you care. About me.”
His throat tightened. He opened his mouth, closed it again, then finally muttered, “Tt. You put far too much stock in their idiocy.”
But his other hand came up to cup your jaw, his forehead pressing lightly against yours. “You do not belong to them,” he whispered fiercely. “You are mine.”
Your smile softened. “Yours. Always.”
And as Alfred cleared his throat politely from the doorway, Damian ignored him, kissing you once before finally letting you go.
Back inside the manor, Jason immediately called out: “So did you kiss her goodbye, lover boy?”
Damian’s snarl echoed through the halls, followed by Jason’s delighted laughter.
Hii so i woul like to find a fic thats like an MC does something random like just a normal day for her and she falls asleep on her couch, later she wakes up and is confused because this clearly isn't her living room and what is going on, and she basically somehow telepors to the DC universe and somehow the bats find her and they all fall in love with her and the all get together with her and its all sweet or like with a bit of angst,. Is that too much to ask 😭😭😭
Im hoping someone has found something like this or written and could help me, and tag me or drop a link or sm please and thank you have a nice day/night/afternoon 😄
Jason prides himself in knowing he managed to snag the heart of the sweetest girl in Gotham. You’re always so soft with him, so kind. When he sneaks into your place early in the morning and wakes you from your sleep, you don’t scold him for it. Instead, you blink away the sandstorm behind your eyes and tend to the new bruise forming alongside his jaw. You ask no questions, you never push him for answers- and you’ll never know how much he appreciates it. Appreciates you.
Before he found you, Jason rarely slept a full night if he could help it. Too anxious, too angry, he rarely woke feeling well rested anyway- so what was the point. But your hands, soft and understanding, handle him in a way that has his eyes fluttering against his will, and sleep finds his easily. You’ve been nothing but patient with him the entirety of your relationship. His sweet girl. So, in his own ways of many, he does what he can to return the favour.
You’ve learned early on that Jason has a scarily accurate way of knowing when you’re upset. Call it sixth sense, call it boyfriend intuition, maybe it’s his really good people-reading skills. You just don’t know how he does it. Some nights when you’re frustrated because you can’t sleep, you lay on your back and weep softly- careful to not disturb him. But it’s no use. When he wakes, he’ll take you in his arms, tuck your head under his chin and rock you gently. Back and forth, quieting your cries until you’re finally lulled to sleep. He just knows his baby. He knows what you need even before you do, he loves quietly like this.
But there are nights when you need to not think. Nights when your thoughts are little mean, telling you things that aren’t true. And maybe you start to believe them a little bit. So when you push through the front door of your apartment, he’s already there- standing big and strong in your kitchen. Waiting like he knew, because he did. In these moments, he doesn’t have to ask. To anyone else, you look like you just had a long day- but he knows you. He knows his sweet girl. So he takes one look at you and knows exactly what you need.
Which is how you find yourself like this, splayed out beneath this 6 foot brute of a man. Completely surrounded by him. Large hands moving up your hips to gently push you further into the mattress as he lays his full weight on top of you- he’s everywhere. Usually, you’d feel overwhelmed but this is exactly what you needed. And he begins to move, the slow drag of his cock already has you burying your face into the pillow, tears prickling your eyes. It’s so good, so so good. You’re so full and he’s panting in your ear, “yeah baby, I know.. I know- it’s good, huh?”
At some point, it becomes a bit too much. He can’t help it, just wants you feeling good again. He’s fucked you through your third orgasm before you’re reaching a hand back to push at his abdomen, wordlessly pleading “too deep, please”. You need to catch your breath, but as much as he is soft and compliant for you, Jason knows you need this. And a selfish part of him needs you too. So he gets a bit mean when he’s whispering, “I know it’s deep, hun. Let me fuck you, just like that.” And “No, baby. You can take it.” You know it’s no use putting up a fight, once he sets his mind on something- he won’t stop until he’s satisfied. He gets this tunnel like vision in moments like these. All he can see is you, you, you. So instead, you reach back around to play with the soft wisps of hair at the back of his neck.
Fingers lightly scratching at his scalp, he buries his face in your neck and purrs. Cold nose pressed to the underside of your jaw- such a contrast to how he’s fucking you. But it’s all worth it when you turn your head and press a soft kiss to the inside of his wrist. His sweet girl.
conversations overheard through the batkid com lines pt 2
*Damian and Jason, four hours into a stakeout*
Damian: Jay, hand me the mango pieces.
Jason: *plastic crinkling* ayyy, I’m Jason again!
Damian: *snorts*
Jason: what was with that, by the way? I just showed up in Gotham and found you referring to everyone like they’re your professor. Like, that’s not a ‘you’ thing, I don’t know why you started doing that.
*audible chewing noises*
Damian: do you want the genuine honest answer?
Jason: please god do tell
Damian: so- and you aren’t allowed to laugh. but when I first came to Gotham and I showed up at the manor, father obviously had to give me a tour of the place, right?
Jason: yeah.
Damian: and they wanted to do a DNA test to check that my mother wasn’t pulling a fast one by claiming my birthright, so the first place he showed me was the cave, which was also where Tim was.
Jason: *hums*
Damian: and you know that place- the first time you went to the cave, it was wild, right?
Jason: oh, like walking into the tardis for the first time. insane.
Damian: exactly. all high-tech and shit, and I’d just come from the desert compound I’d spent my entire life in- like, my first time going into the kitchen at the manor I saw Alfred loading the dishwasher and my first thought was ‘oh my god what the fuck kind of machine is that-‘
Jason: *abrupt cackle*
Damian: -so the fucking cave for the first time? as a little desert-boy ten year old? I was a little distracted,
Jason, chuckling slightly: ok, fair,
Damian: and so I’m zoned the fuck out, looking around this cave and not paying attention to anything father’s saying, and then I finally tune back in just to hear the words ‘-ackson drake’ while he like, tries to introduce me to Tim.
Jason: *slowly starts laughing again*
Damian, raising his voice to be heard over Jason’s increasing beats of laughter: -and so I’m fucking standing there, ten years old, no clue what this kid’s first name is, and everybody’s looking at me like I’m supposed to be the one fucking talking right now, and ALL I can think of is my mother, who before she shipped me off to Gotham completely alone kept fucking telling me ‘Damian you have to be strong and show that you deserve to be the Batman’s blood son. show no weakness and take the mantle you were born to have; show no fucking hesitance.’, so I’M panicking,
Jason, still cackling: *a clap* NO I DO- I DO REMEMBER, LIKE, BACK IN THE LEAGUE-, holy shit back in the league when your only coping mechanism for not knowing the fuck was going on around you, was literally just to pretend you knew what the fuck was going on around you and bullshit till you make it,
Damian: WELL IT WAS LIKE THE ONLY FUCKING THING MY MOTHER TAUGHT ME-
Jason, through tears: -that’s why I didn’t say shit when I came back to Gotham and found you fucking, doing all this blood son bullshit! You started calling me Todd and speaking in old english and I was just like ‘bless him he’s terrified, just leave him be’
Damian: *cackles* and I did- I did appreciate you going along with it, because back when this happened I panicked and just started calling Tim ‘Drake’ because I was too embarrassed to ask him for his first name, and then by the time I heard somebody else call him Tim in passing, everybody had just assumed this was a thing I did. and I was too socially awkward to clear it up and switch back, so I just had to stick to Drake.
Jason: *wheeze* a-and Grayson?
Damian: well at first I just went along with the surname thing out of awkwardness, but then I’d gone too deep and I had no way out- AND THEN- and then Batman fucking died-
Jason: *wheeze*
Damian: -and I went from being parented by the gymnastics version of the dark lord to being gentle-parented by fucking Nightwing-
Jason, choking: holy- holy shit-
Damian: do you know what it’s like to go from *gruff voice* ‘Damian we don’t fucking kill, give me the katana or I’ll put you in Arkham’ to *high pitched, sweet voice* ‘oh hey Dames, obviously I can’t stop you from killing but I really would appreciate it if we discussed all our options and came to a mature decision together on what’s best in this scenario-‘
Jason: *crying, silent wheezes*
Damian: so DURING all this I’m trying to subtly switch back to using peoples actual names, except it fucking backfired because people just assumed I was calling Richard Richard because we had that special parental mentor bond, and Tim had pissed off to- whatever he was doing in the desert for six months- getting a hysterectomy or whatever the fuck happened-
Jason, amused: hysterectomy- he lost a spleen, Dames
Damian: well whatever happened he wasn’t AROUND for me to shift to calling him Tim! and when father was back I’d made no progress and was back to square one, except this time I was stuck calling one brother Richard and the other Drake!
Jason, still laughing: and this is where I came in?
Damian: I felt BAD! I’d already taken Robin from the guy, I didn’t want him to feel like he was lesser of a brother to me than Richard. So I demoted you to Todd so he wouldn’t feel alone.
Jason: very thoughtful.
Jason: we should probably get you a therapist, dude. I think everybody forgets that when you showed up you were literally just a very confused immigrant child with no experience of normal social interaction apart from me at the league.
Damian: oh I was like, 60% into an anxiety attack consistently for the first two years I was in the city.
Jason: *snorts*
Damian: the first time I was left alone with Tim we were in the kitchen and he said ‘do you want wifi?’ and, y’no, coming from the league, barely any tech and the only normality was the concept of fighting to the death over everything, MY instinctual ten-year-old thought was ‘oh shit, wifi must be slang for brawl here, we’re about to fight’-
Jason: *laughter* you’re fucking kidding
Damian: -so I’m like, so be it, and I say ‘come on then’ and get ready to start punching, only for him to turn around and grab a piece of card stuck to the fridge and hold it out to me,
Jason: *cackles*
Damian: and he goes ‘here’s the password so you can connect, I’m assuming you have a phone or something’-which I fucking didn’t by the way, my mother gave me a shitty flip-phone to call her in emergencies but it didn’t use wifi-, and he’s holding it out to me and I had to like, subtly shift my posture out of the defensive position I’d been in-,
Jason, delirious from laughter: this is the fucking best. thing.
Damian: -and I take it from him, and he gives me this weird look like he has no idea how to communicate with me, and I was just like ‘shit I might have to kill this one, it’s the only way to get out of this interaction’.
Jason: *wheeze* if we go through the timeline, every murder attempt on Tim’s life has just been an occasion where you’ve felt socially awkward and didn’t see any other way out of conversation,
Damian: pretty much, yeah. I should have been on xanax for those first few years.
Jason: stories from your first years in Gotham are my favourite thing in the world.
*a few silent beats*
Tim: are you telling me I’ve been stuck as Drake for YEARS all because Damian’s fucking scared of social interaction?!
*crashing sound*
Jason: HOLY FUCK-
Damian: OH MY GOD I FORGOT WE WERE CONNECTED TO THE MAIN LINE-
It is a truth universally acknowledged that Batman isn’t the only one fiercely protective of his Robins.
Jason’s death led to the Rogues turning against the Joker—especially Harley. By then, she had already realized the extent of his abuse and had left him. So when she learned that her favorite Robin—a tough Crime Alley kid—had been beaten to death by her ex the first time she wasn’t around, she went ballistic.
Once, a newcomer held Nightwing at gunpoint and tried to unmask him on live television. When Harvey Dent saw how close this was to his own hideout, he knew he couldn’t let it slide. He wasn’t blind or foolish—he knew exactly who Nightwing was. The first Robin. A ray of sunshine—badass yet kind. Harvey took only a second to recall how that same little Robin had once helped him through a dissociative episode, choosing to assist rather than arrest him. And that was enough. The newcomer was never seen again.
As much as Damian disliked how close Catwoman was to his father, Selina adored the little kitten. He was honest, fierce, and compassionate in his own way. She loved that he shared her fondness for cats and animals. So when the shelter Damian volunteered at was attacked by Black Mask’s goons, Selina made sure that by the end of the month, Roman wouldn’t have a single piece of art left in his collection.
Eddie could hardly deny that his favorite Robin was the third one. After all, that particular little bird not only respected him as the Riddler but could also solve all his riddles effortlessly. So when a few goons rudely barged into their monthly riddle session, Eddie was not amused. He made sure they knew it.
Consider this your warning: Do not harm the Robins. Unless, of course, you fancy some trouble with the Rogues.
PLEASE- imagine this great hulking terror of a man appear out from one of Gotham’s shadowy alleyways, advancing on some poor idiot breaking the Rules, casually twirling a knife, faceless helmet glinting in the streetlamp-
☆〜“Thought I told you not to fuck with kids on my turf, (uwu)!”☆〜
Laughter erupts from people you can’t see, you’re not entirely sire if you’re dreaming, Red Hood’s STILL GOT THE KNIFE-
#Tim *has* to code something into the helmet that beeps out the sweear words#Like it's for 1 or two voices not all#Red Hood in a high pitched voice and suddenly there is this long drawn out beep and several short afterwards
Yes, @bloustorm ! Jason would realise he was censored and then curse more automatically. The only thing that annoyed him, but then he'll just get creative about it.
Tim could edit the code to pick up on the around-about swear words, but it also risks him censoring Jason when he's trying to speak to a civilian in a serious situation, or relaying a plan to another bat--
Jason takes advantage of the beeping, and uses it to curse IN MORSE CODE
Imagine he shows up to one of Riddler's little games, and the man's goons start losing it. Because, not only does he sound like Nero Claudius from Fate series, but he's also very visibly cursing in Morse Code, once he realizes his voice modulator is censoring him.
If you people think Jadon won’t switch immediately to cursing like he’s in a Shakespearian play
The goons and minions around Crime Alley are getting a classical education whether they like it or not, if only to understand what the Red Hood means when he calls them foul blaggards
Tim now also needs to complete his own English GEDs to work out what the hell Jason is calling him too, in the voice of Mickey Mouse no less
Anyone who played Kingdom Hearts gets violent flashbacks
As soon as Jason understands this he makes it worse, and Tim swears off Disney voices
I'm in a class atm and my professor is staring into my soul as I try to keep a straight face imagining in a dark alley, someone is selling drugs then hears: "Oho! Pall, you are in big trouble now." In Mickey or Goofy voice and I'm trying so hard not to laugh.
It’s small, but the gesture is real. No matter where you are or where you two go he’ll be racing ahead to reach the door in a matter of seconds so you don’t have to move a single muscle to open the door that’s been touched by others. Car door, house door, even Bedroom door, he’ll always be the first to open it and move out of his way so you can enter first.
He gets mad when you open the door move out of the way and say “Ladies first” he hates it. He actually begs you to not do it again :/.
Buying you flowers!
“You didn’t have to”
“But I wanted to”
It could be a special occasion or not, he’ll get you flowers. Anniversary? Yes. Birthday? Duh. He sees that the previous ones are dying out? He’s going out of his way to buy you more! A random Wednesday night when he’s visiting you during his patrol? Absolutely!. You don’t go a day without a bundle of flowers being shoved in your face. with the amount of flowers he gets you, you can convince him to open up a flower shop dedicated to you. Or he can buy one just for you. But let’s just hope you have enough room for the future bundles of flowers.
Making sure you get home safely!
He always offers you a ride home. No matter what. Don’t try to deny his offer cause he won’t really take no for an answer. He doesn’t trust the takis/ubers in Gotham. So his best bet would be taking you home after a long night or having Alfred take you home if he’s unable to do so.
If he takes you home he waits until you are safely inside before he drives off.
Offers his jacket!
It can be 70 degrees. The minute he sees you shiver a bit he’s taking his jacket/coat and draping it over your shoulders. He’s trained to handle various weather situations, and the cold is one of them and he’ll be damned if you end up catching a cold due to the slight change in the weather.
He actually got sick one time and he made you promise to never talk about it.
Offers you his seat!
During special events that Bruce hosts, he always gives you his seat. If he sees you standing beside him he’ll get up and gesture you to sit down as she now stands beside you with his hand placed firmly on the back of the chair.
On days when you decide that you’d rather take public transportation, he’ll hold his tongue. He doesn’t like it. He doesn’t mind it because he gets to spend more time with you, but every time you get on a train or bus they seem to be full. If there’s an extra seat he spots he always insists that you take it.
TW: GN reader, adult Damian Wayne, mentions drugs, yandere, neglect, angst and kidnapping.
You were Bruce’s youngest child, a year younger than Damian and several years younger than the rest. You were simply the result of a hookup on one of Bruce’s many business trips, it might’ve been to Europe, Africa, Asia, Australia or even just somewhere else in America. The point is, you didn’t grow up in Gotham until the age of thirteen when your mother died in a violent car crash, one in which you had also been involved.
You had sat for hours in the backseat, slowly seeing your mother’s life drain from her eyes as the fire brigade did their best to cut their way into the car. It had all been for nought though, with her dying before the paramedics even arrived. You were physically fine except for some deep cuts and bruises, but your mother’s abdomen had been pierced as a drunk driver of a flatbed lorry carrying steel poles had backed violently into your car, sending the metal sticks flying straight towards your vehicle. One of the poles had gone through the window and hit your mother. It was a gruesome sight, so vile that you threw up several times as you were hauled out of the wreck.
Legally, you were supposed to go to your father, even if your mother’s parents, possible siblings or someone else were willing to take you, the law demanded that it’d be your father who took you. Bruce had signed your birth certificate, he wasn’t unaware of your existence, and he had since your birth sent monthly child support to your mother, but that was all you really were to him up until that point; A negligible extra expense.
It wasn’t that Bruce disliked you when you came to the manor. You were simply a scared kid who had just lost their mother and was deeply grieving. He had dealt with plenty of those. He had just been busy… He obviously had his obligations as Bruce Wayne: CEO duties, public image and bundles of paperwork, but it was more so his obligations as Batman and to his other children, which pulled him away from you when you first came into his home. Damian, especially, took up most of his time. Not only did the two of them constantly train for protecting the city, thus developing a closer bond than you’d ever have with either of them, but Bruce was also very aware of how Damian’s childhood at the league weighed down on him mentally, so, he kept him close, let him vent his frustrations and slowly but surely get over his trauma.
From the very beginning, you became the forgotten child:
Dick was always so focused on Damian, singing his praises and always taking care of him. He usually forgot to even greet you whenever he visited the manor for a week or two, often going “Oh! I haven’t seen you all this time! Well, bye to you too Y/n”, whenever he left. Whenever the oldest brother was visiting, you’d stand in the doorway to the living room, observing with stinging eyes as he embraced Damian like the boy mattered more than the entire world. You had forgotten how it felt to actually matter that much to someone. You wondered if you ever had. Why you tortured yourself with watching the two, you didn’t know, perhaps because you longed to be in Damian’s position? You weren’t even sure yourself. The reason probably didn’t matter, as your forced your eyes to stay on the two, only leaving when you could feel silent tears run down your cheeks.
Jason was the friendliest, not particularly caring for Damian and Bruce either, often calling the green-eyed boy “Demonspawn”, which you’d laugh loudly at, only to be sent to your room by Bruce for upsetting Damian. Jason understood though, usually going to your room to hang out with you and listen to your stories, unlike everyone else. He came to adore you. Damian might’ve been Dick’s favourite sibling, but you were Jason’s. Since Damian was called “Babybird”, Jason called you “Tiny tweet”, even though you didn’t hold the title of Robin. You loved the times when Jason was there, he made you finally feel understood and heard. Unfortunately, Jason was at the manor even less than Dick, (who spent 90% of his time in Blüdhaven), since he couldn’t stand the sight of Bruce for longer than an hour every other month. So, the brief moments of reprieve the second oldest offered were few and far between, still leaving you isolated most of the time.
Tim barely spared you a glance, too busy with his own school, vigilantism and friends. He appreciated that you weren’t annoying like Damian, who’d constantly attack him, thus automatically bringing you above the little devil on Tim’s tier list of family members… however, Damian was at the very bottom, which didn’t make it a great achievement. If you ever tried to converse with Tim, he’d dismiss you with a wave of his long bony hand, telling you to find someone else to chit-chat with. You stopped your attempts at befriending the middle child after a handful of unsuccessful tries, barely seeing him after that. As a matter of fact, whenever you tried to visualise a picture of Tim, it was the image of his slim dismissive hand which appeared. You had forgotten if his hair was black or dark brown, if his eyes were light blue or grey or if his nose had a bump or not. He bordered on becoming a personal myth to you; You knew he existed in a far-off world, but he wasn’t within your orbit.
Damian was at first fearful that you’d take his place, bullying you, physically harassing you and bringing up your mother until you were left wailing on the floor. When you told Bruce though he’d always tell you to, “Be the bigger person, Damian has been through a lot”. You wished you could have fought against your youngest brother, but not only was he older and stronger than you, but he was also a trained assassin and vigilante. You stood no chance. When Damian realised that you were no threat to his position, he left you alone, avoiding talking to you and interacting with you on the basis that you simply didn’t matter to him. He had actually once accidentally told a teacher that he only had three siblings, not realising that he had forgotten about you until he was on his way home, replaying the conversation in his head. Damian might’ve once tried to become closer to you after Alfred had given him a long spiel about how “family is important”, but quickly realised that you trusted him less than the thieves in Crime Alley, and so he abandoned the idea.
Bruce didn’t mean to ignore you, it was purely accidental, but he had on multiple occasions forgotten your birthday and even once failed to remember buying you any Christmas presents, leaving you as the only Wayne child with no gifts that year, to which you had simply muttered something along the lines of, “Of course”, not in a vengeful or angry way, instead in a resigned and understanding tone, before going back to your room that night and not leaving until a day or two later. Alfred had scolded him for that occurrence, there wasn’t really anything he could’ve said in his defence and even Dick had looked at him with disgust as they all took in the image of you standing there, alone, surrounded by gifts that weren’t for you. It had been a striking visual, yet not enough to make Bruce change his ways. It wasn’t that he held any animosity towards you, you were simply just air to him, he had no idea where you were at any given time or who you were, sometimes he even forgot your face.
Alfred was a kind man, an understanding man. However, just like Bruce, he also had others to worry about, and the more isolated you became in your behaviour, the less able he was to spend time with you. Not only that, but he also refused to hear you talk badly of any of your brothers, and even Bruce was off the table if you felt like complaining. Alfred was a sweet and patient man, but to you it felt as if he had lost the plot, as if he didn’t understand how badly you were treated, because his love for the others blinded him, making him an unfortunate enabler of your torment. Alfred was only really good for giving you a biscuit/cookie when you sat in the kitchen, apathetically staring into a wall, for venting your frustrations, however? He was useless.
Your father neglected to handle your trauma. However, somehow, in his messed up brain, he reasoned that any trauma which was vigilante-related could somehow be considered worse as it was on a much larger scale than a single individual losing their mother. This made you grow resentful of both Damian and your father, the careful way Bruce would adapt everything to fit Damian’s wants and needs, disregarding yours, slowly lit a fire within you, a fire which burned with hatred towards them both.
I could see you wanting to join the vigilante life when you’re perhaps fifteen. You had watched the others train for years and would often sneak into the bat cave after dark to train yourself. You were good, really good, so you decided that you might as well start doing actual vigilante work. You did realise that you hadn’t quite reached a fighting level where that’d be a good idea, so you decided to find a more seasoned mentor. A slight detail, which would become important. Your father didn’t have the time to teach you. So who did you call up? That’s right! Jason.
Jason was reluctant to take you under his wing, at first. He even came to the manor to convince you that vigilantism wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. However, after pouring your bleeding heart out to the only brother who cared, he accepted, still apprehensive though.
Jason started his training from the top, getting into the basics swiftly. You got it down faster than he had at first thought, being an astoundingly quick-learner, something which the red-masked vigilante attributed to having Wayne blood in your veins. After locking down all the groundwork within a year or so, it was time to start your specialisation; Choice of weapons, fighting style and general tactics were all next. While training with Jason, you slowly moved into the spare room in his apartment. It wasn’t like you had a bunch of things to move, but what little you had, Jason helped transport from the manor to his primary safehouse.
When Jason considered you ready, you started working as his shadow sidekick. Never known by the vigilante community at large, but definitely a secret menace to Gotham’s criminals. Jason did a good job of keeping your vigilantism a secret After your first three years of training, you completely stopped visiting the manor, even on holidays. You were technically a legal adult now and felt no obligation to stick around a house whose inhabitants had made it clear that you were unwelcome.
No one except Alfred knew that you had completely left for the first long while, with him being the only one you had bid farewell to. The old butler refused to tell Bruce until the man noticed himself. That day would come approximately four months after you stopped coming to the manor, on Christmas eve:
Damian had been the one to notice your absence secondly, after Alfred. He commented on it during the Christmas family dinner, one which Bruce only held for his sons' sakes, and where the only two not attending were Jason and you. Even Dick was there, on a visit from Blüdhaven, spry and jolly around his favourite younger sibling. Damian.
“Where’s L/N?” The green-eyed man had questioned loudly. Silence followed. Bruce took a look around, you weren’t there. They all knew that Jason wouldn’t be attending, he had declined Bruce’s requests every year since his resurrection, instead opting to go to Roy’s place. A lump formed in Bruce’s throat, yet he didn’t know why. “Damian, can you go get them down? They probably didn’t hear that dinner was served”, Dick requested kindly with a smile on his lips. The man in question would’ve usually complained, but since it was his eldest brother who asked, he got up wordlessly. Conversation at the table resumed, with Alfred biting his lips in contemplation. ‘Should he have informed Bruce of your absence, even though he knew you were at Jason’s?’ ‘Perhaps’, he concluded, deciding to keep silent about the whole matter, it was unfair to you. You had moved on, and even if he missed you terribly, it was not his place to demand your return. A piercing “What!” Stopped all the chatter at the table. Damian came barrelling back into the dining room, grabbing the side of the door with a tight knuckle to stabilise himself. “Their room is completely empty! All their stuff is gone! The only things left are the bed and closet!”
Bruce had stood up immediately, his chair colliding with the ground behind him as he brushed by Damian, entering your room, his son had been right. Your room was empty. None of the posters you had brought with you from your life with your mother, no papers lying scattered around and no other signs of use. As Bruce looked closer at the remaining furniture, he found that a thick layer of dust coated every surface. The room was as empty as when you arrived as a child and something in Bruce’s stomach dropped. “Y/n!” He called out. No reply. Soon, the entire manor was looking for you, even Alfred pretended to do so as well, his guilt of knowing eating him up from the inside. None of them found you, you had vanished without a trace.
Somehow, your perceived disappearance became the thing to snap your family’s collective consciousness. All hyped up by each other’s worry and driven into a frenzy. Bruce believed that you had gotten kidnapped or ran away, and it scared him. The thought of his negligence having brought you to extremes was like a spear through his heart, switching something on in his brain. He ordered his available sons to scour the entire city of Gotham to find you, completely forgetting about Christmas and leaving only Alfred behind to stay at the manor, in case you returned on your own. Bruce also ensured that most rooms in the manor were lit, like a lighthouse showing you home. Meanwhile, you and Jason were celebrating the holidays at Roy’s place in Star City, oblivious to what was taking place in all the major cities. You were playing with Lian as the two men chatted about old times and the poor quality of the beer they were drinking; Roy had let you two stay for a few days, so Jason could properly enjoy the festivities without thinking of his alcohol percentage as he was the designated driver. None of you had any idea of the ruckus going on only a few cities away.
It was after this Christmas that the family changed irreversibly. Suddenly, your safety became their top priority. Spear-headed by Bruce, who had a borderline existential crisis as he believed there was an equal chance of you being dead in a ditch somewhere and you being tortured by some rogue. Bruce was overtaken by guilt and challenged this feeling into pure rage as he beat up henchmen and rogues within an inch of their lives, believing them to have somehow connected you to Batman. They hadn’t and were entirely unaware of why the bat was so obsessed with this one person. Were you perhaps vital in an ongoing detective case? Or did Bruce Wayne tip him off to be extra vigilant when finding his youngest? They had no clue.
Well, obviously, Christmas was ruined. When all of the batboys and their father returned home empty-handed, they were in no mood for celebrations. Tim simply sat in a chair, lamenting, as he stared into a wall with something akin to resignation, running calculations in his head of where you could have possibly gone, before heading for the cave to view the security footage as far back as he had stored. Bruce and Damian refused to simply stop looking for the night, not staying long at the manor before they started searching other cities, making some of their vigilante friends aware of the situation. After staying in the nearest bathroom, and regaining control of his emotions, Dick joined his youngest brother and father in their quest for searching other cities. Bruce went to Metropolis, Damian to Central City and Dick to Blüdhaven. They had planned that they would each scour a city tonight and one the night after, it would be impossible to find you during the day, as there were way too many people wandering the streets. Alfred still remained silent, he didn’t think it was fair of them to bring you back, not with the way they had treated you and not when you had clearly left of your own volition.
Bruce had informed his closest friend, Clark Kent, of your disappearance, with the alien immediately insisting on aiding in the search. “It’ll be quicker if we both look at the same time!” Clark had yelled determined through the phone, his southern drawl helping to calm Bruce’s nerves, if only slightly. That was how not only Batman but also Superman started patrolling the streets of Metropolis, in search of a single person, you. Jon too wanted to aid in the search and offered Damian to take over looking in Central city, so he could look somewhere else instead, thus covering more ground, Damian agreed and went to Coast city.
As the news spread to the citizens of these cities that the Supers and the Bats had teamed up to look for one of Bruce Wayne’s missing kids, it became the talk of everyone’s dinner tables. News channels ran multiple stories about it, despite it being Christmas, being hyped up in no small part thanks to Lois Lane, whose heart went out to the Waynes for losing someone so close to them. The story had slowly morphed from you having run away voluntarily, to you having been kidnapped as a ransom. Everyone who heard of your story believed it to be a tragedy committed by someone who couldn’t even hold up the sanctity of the holiday spirits.
Back at home, Tim reviewed all of the security footage and went as far back as four months, that was when he saw you exit the manor with multiple boxes in your arms, loading them into a red lorry. He kept looking at you walking back and forth for a while until a well-known presence stepped out of the vehicle. Jason. Tim stood still, you hadn’t just moved out of the manor, you had moved in with Jason. You had moved in with the second oldest brother, and neither of you had bothered to inform anyone! Tim seethed, he wasn’t mad at you, no, he could never be. But Jason, the mere thought of him now made Tim’s blood boil. He believed that his brother had borderline kidnapped you away from them. His ire intensified when he saw Jason enter the manor and come out with more of your stuff packed into boxes. That was enough evidence for Tim to conclude that Jason must’ve forced you to move out, that it really hadn’t been your choice at all… Skillfully ignoring how none of the people in the manor had ever given you a reason to stay, let alone noticed that you had been gone for over four months.
However, knowing that you were with Jason made him able to conclude that you were likely in one of his safehouses or spending your Christmas with his best friend Roy, those two were inseparable, after all. He decided that he would look through Jason’s safe houses, then he called up Damian, “Go to Roy Harper’s place and look for Y/n. They’re with Jason.” Tim’s voice was dark, foreboding and it even made Damian’s hairs stand straight. Truly the stuff of nightmares. Tim explained the situation to both Dick and Bruce afterwards, as he glided through the air from safe house to safe house. Letting the two know that he had sent Damian after you and that they could come home now. Even if Tim currently held the desire to puncture Jason’s lungs for taking you away from them… away from him, he knew his older brother would never let anything happen to you. You were weak in his mind, and in the rest of the family’s mind too. Perhaps they would’ve worried less if they knew of your vigilante training… or maybe not. Vigilantism is dangerous, after all.
When Roy had turned on the TV briefly, you had all been bombarded with news of your disappearance. Your apathetic face from your last high school photo was plastered on every news network, big and small. News of an all-out search party with multiple vigilantes involved was outlined in great detail. Both Jason and you looked at each other with a mix of concern and confusion. It had been four months since you had last been at the manor, Alfred knew of your departure, what were they doing?! Lian had thankfully been put to bed, none of you wanted her to view the panic that crossed all three of your faces. “What the heck are they up to?” Roy questioned no one in particular. “It’s probably a façade, someone might have noticed that ‘Bruce Wayne’ was down one child and now he needs to find me to assure them that I’m not dead. It wouldn’t be a good look to have multiple children die in your custody. No offence Jay”, you postulated, it was a far reach but still the best explanation you could come up with. Jason had agreed with your assessment, giving you a light smack to the back of your head for mentioning his death. He wasn’t mad, but he always joked that it was a sensitive subject.
The three of you tried to come up with solutions to the problem at hand when you were interrupted by an impatient knock on the door. “I’ll get it”, Roy muttered. Making his way out of the living room, where you had previously stood, and towards the entrance. The moment he turned the lock, the door was swung open by whoever was on the other side, the wooden frame just barely missing Roy’s face. Heavy footsteps made their way towards the living room. Roy barely had the time to realise who it was before they were gone, striding towards where you were.
“Damian?!” You exclaimed, confused. The green-eyed man stood in front of both Jason and you, wearing his full Robin costume. You wondered how he had gotten here so quickly, the news mentioned how he’d been to both Central City and Coast City, both were relatively far away from your current location. “I’ve come to take you home, Y/n. We have been worried for your safety and I see that Todd took full advantage of your little outburst.” Damian’s voice was spiteful, Tim had managed to fuel his ever-latent anger and direct it towards Jason. You tried to rebuke your youngest brother, but Jason stepped in front of you, ready to defend you against the green-eyed menace, “As if! They’re not going back with you, just to end up being ignored by everyone again! Just because Bruce needs his public image to be clean, doesn’t make it their problem! So run along, Demonspawn!” Damian did not take well to refusal, let alone Jason’s uncalled-for name-calling.
Damian marched past the taller man and straight towards you. As he tried to grab your forearm, he was thwarted as you defended yourself, blocking his arm and throwing him to the ground. Damian was shocked and Jason was grinning like a proud father. Roy came strolling in at the same time, having checked on Lian’s safety, no problems there. “What did you teach them?!” Damian screamed at Jason, blaming him for your newfound strength. “Everything, they’re a vigilante. I’m not gonna send them out on the streets without knowing how to defend themselves.” The second oldest brother swung an arm around your shoulders as you stood still, giving Damian a look that promised nothing good.
Well, this was unacceptable to Damian, who had silently called for reinforcement, filming your entire interaction so far on a gadget connected to his chest plate. When Bruce heard Jason’s words, he felt yet another stone sink to the bottom of his abdomen, he had let you become a vigilante, his little Y/n… No, this would not do. All of them agreed on this. Once they had you again, they all decided that anything vigilante-related would be kept out of your reach. While both Dick and Bruce were flattered that you’d share a career path with them, they could not accept the danger it brought you in.
It didn’t take long for Damian’s request to be honoured, as Bruce and the boys took a zeta tube to Star City and immediately went to Roy’s. It took no more than twenty minutes, with Damian engaging in a violent screaming match with Jason, accusing him of kidnapping you, of forcing you to play his mock Robin just to spite your shared father and of many more heinous crimes, which the green-eyed man covered your ears for, despite your attempts to get him to stop touching you. When a barrage of impatient knocks sounded on Roy’s door for the second time, he didn’t open it. Instead, he opted for locking Lian’s bedroom door and grabbing his bow as well as a handful of arrows, which he had reverse-engineered from Oliver’s original ones, aiming one at the entrance.
Of course, none of the dark-haired men on the other side waited for Roy to feel charitable enough to invite them into his home, as Dick harshly kicked the door in, wooden splinters spreading across the entrance hall’s floor. “What the hell are you doing in my home!” Roy screamed, hoping it wouldn’t wake up Lian. His bow was still pulled tight, an arrow aimed at the newcomers as a threat to not tread further into his flat. “Calm down, speedy. I will replace your door. I’m here to bring my youngest home”, Bruce muttered as he tried to enter the living room, only to be stopped by an arrow flying just past his nose. “Do not take another step. You are intruders”, Roy seethed, orange strands of hair swaying in the air as he made his way in front of the bat trio of Dick, Tim and Bruce.
Bruce was almost surprised by Roy's violent reaction. Almost. He was obviously quite aware of the redhead’s close bond with his second oldest, who had in turn evidently been closer to you than he had ever thought. You had moved in together, after all. Bruce did not blame Jason like Damian and Tim, instead, he simply saw it as an accentuation of his own failings as a father. Still, it was a very serious action to threaten the Batman, the very implications of which stunted both Bruce and Tim for just a moment. Dick wasn’t, however, immediately turning on his trusted secret weapon, skilful manipulation.
With slow steps, Dick managed to get right in front of the archer, putting a caring hand on his shoulder. “Roy. Surely, as a father, you of all people must understand why Bruce wants his child back. Y/n and he needs to mend their relationship. For Y/n. Imagine how they’ll feel years in the future when they have no father to turn to? They have the chance to get a real security net, something which I know you always wanted at their age. Surely, you must realise that just you and Jason can’t be enough… Not to go into too much detail, but the two of you haven’t been known to be the most… how would you put it… reliable? Stable? …clean?” Dick’s mention of Roy’s former substance problems broke his initial apprehension. Between Jason, you and him, it was a topic that was never mentioned, it brought back doubts and was probably his second biggest insecurity, his biggest one being… “Imagine if Y/n was Lian? You would want her to have a father, wouldn’t you? Of course, you do! That’s why you stayed. Y/n needs a father too, and not just that they need all of their brothers at their side, Jason can’t stand in for a father. Surely, you would know.” Dick continued. It was a dirty trick to mention Lian, but it worked as Roy lowered his bow, stepping aside for the Waynes to enter the room where Damian and Jason were currently in a screaming match.
Once Jason saw his other brothers and Bruce, he ripped you away from Damian and tried to push past them, holding your hand protectively and tight. It didn’t work, however, as Tim was quick to stun his older brother with a taser, right after Dick had tugged you securely into his latex-covered chest. You didn’t quite know what happened after that, Dick pried your lips and teeth apart, dropping a little round tablet on your tongue, before immediately shifting his hand to cover both your mouth and nose. Shifting the pill around in your mouth to not swallow it, while you tried to kick him away, did absolutely nothing. Dick was stronger and a greater fighter than you’d ever be, your attempts at resistance were little more to Dick than a cat scratching his arms. The blue-eyed man held you close with his free arm, gently cooing supportive reassurances as the pill melted in your cheeks, bitter and promising a nightmare when you woke up.
When your eyes opened again, you were laying in your old bed at Wayne manor. The window had been covered up with thick metal bars, spread no more apart than half of your head’s size. Much of your old stuff, which you had brought to Jason’s primary safe house, was back. They were nowhere near where you had put them when you lived here previously, a testament to how little whoever had reinstated your items actually knew about you. Sitting up, you found that your old cotton bedding had been changed for what you assumed to be silk, it was weirdly soft and you didn’t enjoy it in the slightest. Your duvet was a deep shade of green with golden accents, and you immediately knew who was responsible for the change. Damian. Perhaps he was even the one who had moved all your old stuff back. Their methodical placement, with very few items not lining the wall, certainly looked like how Damian had decorated his own room.
A large red box, filled with all your old clothes, as well as a bunch of new items stood in the middle of your room. You ignored it as you swung your legs over the side of the bed, trying to stand up only to find that your vision was double-crossed and your breaths shallow, you were dizzy beyond measure and your head pounded like mad, not to mention the coating of glistening sweat, which made you feel gross just being in your own body. What in the world had Dick given you?
Still, you attempted to move to the door, even if you realised you couldn’t stand up without fainting on the spot. Grasping your mattress tightly with both hands, you gently lowered yourself to the cold floor. Moving your legs under you, you managed to sit on your knees. Leaning forward, you took the fall with your palms, now standing on all fours. You hoped no one would ever see you in this state, it was humiliating not being able to move about as you normally did, but you had to get out or at least try. You had no idea what your father and brothers wanted with you, but you had a feeling it was nothing good.
Sliding your shins forward and following the motion with your hands, you slowly made your way towards the door. Raising a hand to the knob, you were surprised when the door swung open by itself. In the door stood Tim, warm towels in his arms. “Ah! I saw on the camera feed that you were awake! I thought you might enjoy some pampering.” A beat of silence rang out as you met Tim’s eyes, pale blue like a summer sky. You almost impressed yourself as you jumped forward, drilling the top of your head into his knees, making the lanky man fall to the ground with a grunt, as you tried to crawl away as quickly as possible. Tim was quick to get back on his feet, running after you, but you had already reached the closest stairs leading down. It only took one look down the long wooden construction to realise what you had to do, even if it would hurt more than anything. Tim realised what you were trying as he saw your shifty eyes cast a sideways glance down the steps.
“Y/n! Don’t you dare!” You didn’t let him finish as you closed your eyes and leaned to the side, starting to roll down the steps… or at least you would have, had it not been for the iron grip on your forearm. At first, you believed it to be Tim, but as you started to struggle, you realised that the hold was too tight and the hand too strong. Cracking open an eye, you could feel your heart sink into your stomach. Damian. Somehow, your youngest brother was the scariest one. The others were always ambivalent to your presence, but Damian had been openly hostile to you in your youth, oftentimes attacking you verbally or physically, and you didn’t doubt he could be violent towards you again. “What are you doing, Y/n?” His voice was no-nonsense, yet his eyes were soft. A strange dichotomy. “Getting away from you psychos”, you mumbled coldly, your throat was dry and the urge to cough arose as you spoke. The green-eyed man looked pensive, a tick in his jaw betrayed how he was trying to hold in his anger. He didn’t bother answering your insult, instead, he slung you onto his back and made his way back to your room, sneering at Tim when the two passed each other. Once back in your room, Damian held you down on the bed by your wrists, as he sat next to you. A general meeting was called, involving everyone in the family, except Jason, whom you had no clue where had gone.
Bruce had arrived almost immediately, with Dick prancing in not too long after. You weren’t sure what they wanted from you, assuming this was all to save Bruce’s public image, but even if that wasn’t the reason, you were sure that it was nothing good. They had all shown up on Christmas just to take you away from the only people you considered close friends and family. No one with good intentions would do something like that. As soon as the offending Waynes had all arrived, you spat out for them to announce the purpose of your kidnapping immediately. Both Bruce and Dick seemed disturbed by you titling their actions as a kidnapping. With the latter trying to defend it as being more of an obligatory change of scenery. It didn’t work, and you waited for someone to give you a proper answer with a deadpan. Damian had loosened his grip on you as the others arrived and all sat at the edge of the bed, surrounding you and making sure that you no longer had any possibility of escaping. It was claustrophobic and ominous.
Bruce was the one to explain that they had all led you back home to build the relationships, which you had all been deprived of in your younger years, expressing his regret and familial love for you, something which was echoed by the other men in the room. You were unconvinced. Telling them to drop the act and just tell you the real reason already, exclaiming how you didn’t have time to play charades with them. No matter how much they tried to convince you of their sincerity, you would have none of it, throwing their past actions in their face as proof of their dishonourable underlying motives. The meeting adjourned with no real progress made, other than the four of them deciding that you would be a danger to yourself if left alone and, therefore, making a schedule of when each of them would be by your side.
Bruce was shocked at your inability to believe in their love for you, his guilt multiplying by a hundred as he realised how untrusting you had become of your own family. He realised that he was to blame, attempting to grasp your hand, so small compared to his. Yet, when his fingers came close to yours, you jerked away, sending him a stare filled with nothing but disgust and hatred. He swore to change this, to do anything in his power to turn you to the truth of your family’s love for you, his love for you, his youngest child. The one he had almost let slip away.
Dick was heartbroken, he had truly believed that when they revealed their regret, you’d accept them back into your life with open arms. At your apprehension, the acrobat felt as if he was brought right back to when his parents died. Once again feeling his family slip through his fingers. However, this time, he was no longer the innocent bystander, who had done nothing to deserve the situation. No, this time he felt just like the man who had cut the robes of his parents’ trapeze. He had been the one who sabotaged his relationship with you. Still, he refused to let that be how the two of you would part ways. No. He deserved a second chance, he was your brother, after all. Family doesn’t just split with each other because of misunderstandings. He promised you and himself that he would not let it end like this. The two of you would become just as close as he and Damian, no matter how long it’d take. Dick could wait... No, he couldn't.
Tim blamed Jason for your sudden unwillingness to trust their intentions. Not even giving their prior neglect any thought. It was funny how he had practically worshipped Jason when he was younger, but now? Now, he blamed Jason for having corrupted your mind. Tim had completely turned around the memories of you attempting to communicate with him when you were younger. Instead of him telling you to scram every time you walked into his room to talk, he had deluded his own mind into thinking that he used to welcome you with open arms. Certain memories of Conner and him playing video games for hours on end were changed into the two of you doing the very same. He did not blame you for your hesitance, he preferred to solely, yet delusionally, place the entire blame on Jason. The ex-Robin, who had once been Tim’s biggest idol, had now turned into his greatest enemy. The way he so readily placed the blame on someone else spoke volumes about his lack of awareness when it came to your lucidity. He was sure that he could turn your mind ‘right’, by that he, of course, meant, ‘make you believe his version of events’. Tim’s delusional memories might’ve started off as just a plan to manipulate you, but they almost immediately turned into his own perceived truth. Anything to place the blame on Jason and not himself.
While Damian also disliked Jason like Tim, he was nowhere near delusional. He was highly lucid and entirely aware that, yes, they had all treated you like you were nothing more than a nuisance. Yes, you were probably well within your right to deny them any affection or chances. Yes, their new-found obsession with your love had become unhealthy and guilt-ridden, and it was certainly to your detriment. However, Damian had always been selfish and spoiled, two traits of his that he was aware of, yet couldn’t find it within himself to change. He was brought up as a prince his entire life, first as the heir to Eth Alth'eban and then as the unofficial prince of Gotham. There had never been anything he wanted that he didn’t get, and he knew that you would be no different. He was loyal to any cause he set his mind to and now, you would be it. No matter how much you’d fight, he was willing to keep his course. It was better for the both of you, he would get to enjoy your presence, and hopefully your care, while you’d be protected from any and all harm. Damian would give you the world if you asked, literally, so he saw no reason why he couldn’t demand your affection.
After your initial shock at the kidnapping subsided, you came to realise that your family’s newfound care had nothing to do with their public image, but rather some psychotic break in their mentality. Their affections turned clingy and you slowly started to feel a sense of hopelessness. They never let you be alone and they were so demanding of your affections.
Dick was especially bad in that regard, forcing you to cuddle and be physically affectionate, even if you showed an aversion to physical touch. He didn’t understand why you wouldn’t want to be close with your eldest brother, which meant he lent you little to no understanding in regards to any lack in the enjoyment of his company. Bruce never stopped Dick, always excusing his overly affectionate demeanour and encouraging you to do the same. Dick would in general be very open and clingy in his affection, barely letting you leave the couch or bed so that he could just encase himself around you like plastic wrap, rubbing your cheeks together and otherwise holding onto you tightly. It would really just be a way for him to make sure yiu were still there, that you weren’t missing like the night they brought you back. It really changed him deeply. Dick would also likely move back into the manor, much to everyone’s, except you, delight. That way he could be near you more often and better follow the observation schedule that they set up.
Bruce himself was much more willing to let you have your space, but there were certain things which he demanded, like you calling him dad, or at least father, or you eating your meals next to him. The eating arrangements always put you between Bruce and Damian, across from Dick. If that wasn’t bad enough, Bruce also enjoyed watching you eat, feeling a sense of fulfilment as he ensured that you stayed safe and sound. Of course, Bruce had cut you out of vigilante life completely, and if it had been solely up to him, he would’ve wrapped you in bubble wrap and kept you by his and your brothers’ sides forever. However, he realised that bubble wrap might be uncomfortable and probably wasn’t a very breathable material for your skin, so he did the next best thing. He made sure that you were constantly provided for, as well as spoiled beyond measure, giving you any gift that he thought you could possibly enjoy. It was, in a way, his way of giving you back what he felt he owed you for all the birthdays, Christmases and other holidays that he had missed out on. Not only that, but he also enjoyed the idea of him providing for you as a good father should.
Tim spent hours trying to ‘re-program’ your mind. He would describe in great detail how the two of you used to spend time together. He became frustrated when you explained how none of it ever happened and started to double down, blaming Jason for messing up your mind. Sometimes, Tim would even drag you to his room, which had become even messier as he slowly started to spend less time there and more time with you, and force you to re-enact ‘your old memories’ by playing the games he remembered the two of you playing. He would force you to sit on his bed, between his legs, as he caged you in with the rest of his lanky body and rested his head on your shoulder. It made you claustrophobic and uncomfortable, but Tim would get pouty and extend the gaming sessions if you tried to get away. The worst part of being with Tim, however, wasn’t listening to his delusional rants about your old relationship, no, that was an unavoidable nuisance at best. The worst thing was how he would dirty Jason’s name with the vilest of allegations, none of them rooted in reality. Everything from Jason kidnapping you, to Jason wanting to put your life in danger to punish Bruce and, worst of all, that Jason was somehow in a conspiracy with the League of assassins to kill you so that Damian would be Bruce’s only true heir. Whether or not you believed anything Tim said in the beginning, it was hard to entirely brush off all his claims as they were repeated to you verbatim almost every day. Sometimes Tim would even present ‘evidence’ for his claims, like videos of Jason acting suspiciously, or messages intercepted between Talia and Jason, written in their handwriting, mentioning you in a less than ideal light. Most of this ‘evidence’ was either taken out of context or simply fabricated. With many of the letters that Tim claimed were from Talia having been written by Damian, who knew his mother’s handwriting down to the smallest flicker of her wrist.
Damian was perhaps the most refreshing of them. He wasn’t nearly as overbearing as Bruce, nor was he as clingy as Dick and Tim. Damian was simply quite demanding. “L/n, sit next to me”, “L/n, come read with me in the library”, “L/n, come walk with me through the gardens”, and so on. His commands were easy to follow, and not to be questioned, Now, that was something you could do. Damian was less of an affection seeker, he was more patient than the rest, perfectly willing to wait until you were ready to get emotionally close to him. He would wait, with welcoming arms and a composed smile. If you ever showed Damian any affection, like a hug or putting your head on his shoulder while the two of you were reading, he would experience a brief moment of shock, before laying an arm or two around you, careful not to overwhelm you, but absolutely celebrating like new years in his mind. On the other hand, if you were to try and escape, Damian would have no qualms about breaking both of your legs with a sledgehammer, Annie Wilkes-style. Damian is deeply loyal, both to you and to Bruce, but even more so to himself and his personal beliefs. Once Damian sets a goal, he will not lose sight of it, this is also why he can remain so patient with you, but it also means that even if you somehow calm down the rest of your family’s yandere tendencies to manageable levels, this will never be the case with Damian. He will forever remain by your side, ready to protect and serve you. He does almost become reverent in his familial love for you, not in a deity-like way, but he does view you as one of the only people set above him, this reflects in the painted portraits, which he will no doubt create for you. Your room and his will both end up covered in your portraits, from different angles, with different hairstyles and so on, it is almost unsettling to see your own eyes staring back at you everywhere you go, almost like a 1984 Big Brother, only it is yourself. Damian will also take you to interact with his pets, he might keep both Titus and Batcow at a distance at first, afraid that they’ll hurt you, however, he almost transfers ownership of Jerry and Alfred the cat to you, thinking you could probably need some non-human companions to help you settle back in. He would also help you re-decorate your room if you’d like, only to sneak in deep green imagery here and there to remind you of him.
They are all exceptionally loving of you, you are their little prince/princess/royal, and they make sure to treat you like one. Alfred is almost embarrassed at the over-the-top behaviour, but he accepts it, as he feels obliged to always go with what Bruce wants. Bruce was once his little boy, (not biologically but in spirit), and he understands why the man acts as he does, even if he disagrees with the intensity of their treatment of you. He does, however, offer brief moments of reprieve, when he takes observation duty and simply lets you sit in the kitchen, munching on a cookie or two, doing whatever you want, as long as it doesn’t bring you in danger. It feels nice to just be yourself, even if only for a fleeting instant.
Jason had tried to get you back many times but was constantly being fought back by the rest of the family, physically and mentally. He had tried asking Roy for help, but the redhead was afraid of what they’d do to Lian, so he refused. The other Justice League members were of no help either, while they enjoyed Jason’s presence, they were first and foremost Bruce’s friends, and as such took his side in the matter. There was nothing Jason could do, he was powerless to help you as you were practically held captive within your old childhood home.
In short, the family made you the jewel of their eyes, your previous neglect was swept under the rug and you’re expected to forget it or at least forgive them. If I were to rank them from worst to best, it’d probably be Tim, Dick, Bruce, Damian and Alfred, (let’s be honest, he’d definitely turn at least slightly yandere after a while, even if you won’t notice. Heck, the fact that he lets Bruce hold you captive definitely screams “Not entirely against you being here against your will”). I think Tim would be the worst, as he often puts the need to convince you that you have always been close and his hatred of Jason before your actual wants and needs, and he will do things which you will find traumatic and uncomfortable, just to get you to agree with him. Dick is right behind him, as he puts his own need for extreme physical validation before your comfort and will expect you to forgive him relatively fast, as well as not being particularly sympathetic to your situation. Bruce and Damian are both tolerable, with Bruce being slightly worse due to his extreme overbearingness and lesser patience. Alfred is… well he’s Alfred, he treats you like a normal person would, while just being insanely enabling in his lack of action against Bruce. You’ll never escape any of them, so you better get comfortable.
Summary: Damian and you have to work on a project together and he realizes how you seem to be invisible to everyone else - how you want to be invisible - and something in him makes him want, no need, to figure out why...
! Minors Do Not Interact !
TW: Domestic abuse (not shown directly), planned kidnapping, Dark content, yandere, This is all fiction, I do not condone this
Day 4 of my Yandere Writetober, Tomorrow word is 'Golden' so if you have any ideas lemme know
People did not think Damian was sentimental, most of all his family. If a person had an idea of who Damian was, but wasn’t close to him or hasn’t personally met him then they could probably still assume that in private he might be a bit more emotional than in public.
This person would be wrong though. Sure, in private Damian might be a little more open and showed a few more emotions, but most of those were rage, pettiness and sarcasm.
Damian was a lot of things, but definitely not sentimental.
At least not usual.
And then you came into his life.
From the moment he was born, Damian had a map of how exactly his life would be played out. Then he was brought to his family and the map changed. From wanting to become the next head of the League of Assassins, he now wanted to become the next Batman. He wanted to step up once his father needed to step down and take his rightful place as the head of the family. Alone.
Everyone and everything else that was a hindrance in that way - be it his age, school, villains, friends or even his own family - was just an obstacle on the map of his life. He thought you'd be just the same, a Problem to be taken care of and to leave behind. Just another annoying child in his class - which Bruce insisted he attend - that weren't fit for the reality of life he faced every single day. It was just typical that he had to be stuck with you working on a project for a class in which he had a grade to make up, because of too many absences. He didn't bother to question why you had to do the project, he just wanted to get it over with.
"I'll be doing the project - I doubt you could help anyways - and you can just put your name on it as well, then I don't have to bother with you," Damian sneered to you once class was disbanded, already more than done with you and with the situation. You seemed to turn into yourself and he recognized how shy and intimidated you were and if he had been just a tad more empathetic he'd feel bad. Damian rolled his eyes and turned to leave when your hand tugged on his uniform's blazer.
"Uhm... I-I'm sorry, but-but I'd really like to-to work on the project together, I-I really need this grade," you stuttered, your head lowered in shame, even though you had no real reason to be ashamed. Damian wanted to make a snide comment about how the project was definitely better off if he was doing it on his own, but something about how small and fragile you looked kept him from doing so.
That was the first detour from the life on his map. That moment of emotion that no one witnessed, not even you because of how your head was held down. And it was only the beginning. He scoffed at your request, but it wasn't truly malicious like before.
"Fine, but we'll do it at your place today after school, no discussion," Damian stated and left no room for arguments, turning around and leaving the room, not hearing your small sound of protest.
During the rest of the school day, Damian couldn't help but watch you from the corner of his eyes, he saw how you were hidden in your uniform, seemingly wanting to merge with the backdrop of the classroom, how you kept completely to yourself and seemingly managed to become completely invisible to anyone but him and some of your teachers.
So after school, he had to keep his eyes peeled open to see you come out since you really seemed to disappear between all the other students. He went over to you and told you to lead the way home, not bothering to offer to have Alfred drive the two of you since, for reasons he didn't understand himself, he wanted to spend the time with you alone. Detour number two.
The way to your home was spent in silence, Damian looking around sceptically and you turned into yourself like you always seemed to be. The route to your home took you out of the more or less safe and high-income neighbourhood of Gotham Academy to the less secure area not that different from the region around Crime Alley. He wondered how your parents were able to afford your tuition for Gotham Academy, but he knew that you were rather good in school so he figured you were on a scholarship.
When you finally arrived at a rundown apartment complex you brought him to a flat on the fifth story, carefully opening the door as if you were afraid of making any sound.
"I'm sorry if it's a bit messy," you mumbled vaguely in his direction as you carefully opened the door and Damian realized it was the first thing he had seen you say since you had asked him to let you work on the project as well. Then you lead him into the apartment and everything somewhat fell into place.
To say it was a bit messy was an understatement. There were empty bottles of beer, vodka, wine and all other kinds of alcoholic beverages, Damian even caught sight of some less legal substances, but he decided not to mention them aloud, already seeing based on the darkening colour of your face and the way you tried to avoid looking anywhere near him that you were highly ashamed and emberassed. Detour number three.
He saw how you looked through the open doors into the other - not cleaner - rooms and he could hear your relieved sigh when there was no one else in there with the two of you. Then you lead him into your room if one could call it a room, which had a size just barely big enough for a measly small bed, a box usually meant for laundry filled with your clothes and a small desk that looked like you had taken it from the side of the road. There was no chair or even a stool.
Damian noticed Jason's influence - much to his anger - when his first thought was that 'Harry Potter would feel bad for you'. His next thought was that you didn't deserve to live like that, that you deserved better. Detour number four brought him right off of the road like never before.
"Uhm... You-You can sit on the bed if that's okay, I'll-I'll sit on the floor, then we can work on the project," you spoke hesitantly and shuffled to sit on what little space was left on the floor, but was stopped when Damian pulled you to sit beside him on the bed.
"There's enough space here for both of us," he argued and turned to you. "But- uhm- we don't have any space for the project then."
You were right, he supposed, as he saw that both of you sitting on the bed were basically taking up all the mattress had to offer. He sighed and decided that he was already neck deep into whatever was happening so he might as well see where it was going.
"Then we won't do the project today," he stated in the same tone that left nothing up for discussion and you seemed almost relieved, "We can work on it tomorrow after school in the library."
"O-Okay, I'm sorry it's so-" You stopped in your tracks, seemingly on the verge of tears, and then gave it another go, "-I'm sorry you came here for nothing, I can lead you to the door."
"I'm not leaving yet," Damian said much to your surprise as he saw the shock displayed on your face, "first I want you to tell me what is going on here." He tried to tell himself that it was just his vigilante persona shining through, but deep inside he knew it was you that made him so curious about this situation.
"What do you mean?" you squeaked, obviously - but badly - trying to hide something. Damian let his instincts lead him as he quickly took your hand and pulled up your sleeve, he had been noticing how you were playing with it every time you were scared or ashamed. He wasn't all too surprised to see blue, purple, green and yellow splotches littered over the area, some bruises new, some old. You tried to pull your hand away, but Damian's grip stayed strong.
He pulled your hand even closer to him as he inspected the arm and asked: "Did your parents do that to you?" He looked up at your face and saw tears welling up in your eyes. It made you look even more fragile and delicate than he already thought you looked like throughout the day, but it also made this rage well up inside of Damian. How dare these people make you cry, how dare they hurt you. He wanted to rip them apart, wanted to make sure nothing and no one ever hurt you again.
"Tell me the truth, I will help you, I promise," Damian encouraged you and received a weak nod from you as your tears started to flow down your face in streaks. "Okay, give me a second, I'll be right back, don't worry." Damian used his blazer's sleeve to gently wipe away some of the tears - something that his family would believe to be a lie if you had told him about it - and got up to leave the room to call Alfred to come pick him and you up.
He told Alfred that he'd be inviting a friend for a sleepover, hanging up on a too-stunned-to-speak Alfred who was surely already on his way to inform Bruce of this new development, he didn't bother to tell him that he planned for it to be a more... permanent... sleepover.
You needed him, you needed him to protect you, to care for you, to make sure you never again had a reason to cry. You were such a pure, fragile soul, one that didn't deserve to be left alone in this cruel world, he was sure that once his father had met you he'd understand. He'd feel the same way. You'd be safe with them, they'd become your family, the family you deserved and needed.
And if Bruce didn't agree if Bruce told him that he was crazy, that he couldn't just take you away from your life, no matter how bad it was, and take over your entire existence... well, he had already become ready to derail his entire plan, had become ready to redraw the entire map of his life just for him to have you along, so he might as well return to his roots because he was sure his mother would be more than happy to take you in as long as it made Damian return...
