⊹ ࣪ ˖͙͘͡★BATUNCLE HAVING HIS GLASSES BROKEN BY THE ROBINS.
˖ ࣪⭑info: batuncle!reader can be depicted as your features or as Bruce’s twin either identical or fraternal twins.
He knew he had to pull off that acrobatic move in the living room… he just had to! And now, he’s ruined your glasses.
His flip was impressive, but the landing? Not so much. He landed right on your couch, exactly where you had left your glasses before answering the call to the Batcave.
His rear end had to smush your glasses!
Now he’s panicking, fumbling with the glasses as he tries to reassemble them, as if mere willpower could magically put them back together.
“Oh man!” Dick exclaims in a worried tone, and that’s when you call out for him.
“Dick!” you shout, concern flooding your voice as you approach the living room.
He scrambles into the kitchen, rummaging through drawers to find glue. With Elmer's glue in hand, he starts working on fixing the mess he made. But as he applies the glue, he winces, seeing how badly it has turned out. It seems he overlooked the crack on your lenses completely.
When he turns around, he jumps back, taken aback by the sight of your knitted brows.
Oh boy, he’s in for it now.
He holds out the broken glasses, shame written all over his face. He braced himself for you to scold him, to let him have it in full force. He thinks he’s earned the title of “worst nephew” with this blunder.
What happens next catches him off guard—rather than scolding him, you reach out, ruffle his hair, and laugh.
“Dick, it’s fine. I can just get new ones.” His expression shifts to one of disbelief. “You’re not mad?”
“Me? Mad?” You reply, struggling to suppress a grin. “I can’t be mad at you. I told you to stop doing those tricks around the manor, but I suppose I can’t stifle your childhood joy.” With that, you toss the damaged glasses into the trash.
“Besides, I have new pairs on the way. I had a hunch about this happening.” Dick stares at you in astonishment before bouncing around in relief.
“Oh come on! You could’ve told me that, Uncle Y/n!” he complains, pouting as you flick his forehead.
“Well? We’re Waynes.” You say decisively before walking off, with the little boy following closely behind you like a duckling.
Jason was getting ready to sit back and relax for summer break. He had his popcorn and his favorite soda in his other hand.
And now, he can sit back, relax, and have the time of his life.
Jason got up and immediately dropped his popcorn but not his soda can.
There lay your glasses, which you always used to read your fantasy books.
“Jason. Have you seen my glasses around? I need to read a statement of the Wayne corporation.” You said, coming downstairs in the room area.
“No!” Jason yelled out, and he immediately sat down on the glasses again. Covering up his crime with his own butt.
You raised a brow, crossing your arms with a raised brow. “Jason Todd.”
Jason stayed quiet due to your stern tone. “It’s nothing!”
His voice was now squeaky and high, trying to hide how nervous he felt when you walked over to him.
You pulled him from the couch, watching how Jason physically recoiled from the moment he saw your face.
You were silent. Like the kinda silent Jason would rather die from. He’d prefer to hear you yell at him rather than pulling out the ‘Wayne silence’.
“Your butt ….. broke my glasses?”
Another beat of silence reeked the room, feeling the pressure of Jason’s guilt overcoming him, you grabbed the glasses and threw them away.
“It’s fine, I’ll let Bruce buy me another pair.”
Jason frowned, hes use to such aggressive behavior. “You aren’t going to yell at me? Ground me? Nothin'?” He asks while following you to the kitchen to where you cleaned your hands after touching booty glasses.
“No I’m not. And wanna know why?”
“Cause we all make mistakes.”
After the situation, Jason felt more comfortable than he ever did.
Tim was building parts for his robotic project, his face drained and wrecked from gathering garbage and random gadgets from the batcave.
So here he is now, in the living room while you slept as the TV played. Baby Damian was sucking on a binky while he watched the TV.
He puts in his own batteries. He flips the switch on in the back of his creation.
With each command he spoke out, the robot did.
So when the robot started to walk, Tim was satisfied.
Until the robot kept walking.
“Robo stop!” Tim yelled. Trying to shut off the machine of hard work.
The robot kept walking despite Tim’s disapproval. The robot soon stepped on the glasses that lay on the floor, which seemed to have magically appeared.
You woke up shortly to a crunching sound. Looking to your left of the living room, you see Tim clutching his head with a shocked sound leaving his mouth.
“What’s wrong Timmy boy?”
You sat up, rocking the now fussy brown-skinned baby who didn’t like the attention going away from him.
“I…” he had no words, only to show you the broken glasses. The glasses you sat down in all because Damian kept trying to pull them off your face. Which was annoying yes, but at least your ears weren’t in trouble anymore.
“Oh.” That’s all you can say before taking the broken glasses from Tim’s hand. His fringe haircut has looked messy since he grabbed it.
Sighing, you shook your head no and put the glasses down.
“Of course not champ, but word of advice. Don’t make anything else out of stuff from the Batcave. You got it?” You said softly, but sternly.
Tim nodded, feeling relieved you weren’t mad.
She was chasing Tim with a toy gun. Ignoring how Tim was yelling for her to stop.
Her stopping? No way in hell!
As she shot her last nerf gun bullet, aiming to hit Tim on his big head. The soft bullet hits harshly at a pair of glasses that were on a tv stand.
The glasses drop with a hard shatter of the lenses.
“Uh oh.” Tim and Steph said simultaneously.
Tim slowly walked over to the glasses, glancing at the initials of the side. Eyes widen, seeing your initials.
“Oh… no.” Tim simply said.
“What?! What?!??” Steph yells, dropping the toy gun and rubbing to Tim who gave the broken glasses to her.
She glances over Tim’s shoulder, looking frantic whilst she grips the boy’s shoulder a little too hard.
“It’s.. It’s uncle’s glasses.” Tim said, a little too dramatically.
Steph felt her heart stop and her tiny hands began to sweat.
“What do we do?” She asks, watching Tim put the broken pair on the stand beside the TV.
“We?” The boy with a middle part questioned softly, that was before he turned around and pointed to the girl with blonde pigtails.
“I didn’t do this so I’m out!”
Tim rushed out of the room, leaving Steph with an angered expression.
“You coward!!” She yells, stomping her foot that wore a nice lit up twinkle toe shoe.
“Who’s a coward?” A voice called out.
Steph stayed frozen, turning around as her eyes teared up.
“Uncle y/n!!” She wailed. “I broke your glasses, I’m sorry! Sorry!”
She would’ve lied. She could've. But then she would’ve felt guilty. Too guilty to even swallow it down.
“My glasses?” You spoke with confusion while Steph nodded and pointed to the TV stand that held the evidence of her mistake.
You grabbed the glasses and chuckled, “Steph, hon. These are just some reading glasses. Thankfully they’re old-fashioned and needed to be replaced.”
Going over to the little girl, she wiped her eyes when you patted her hair. “You’re not mad?”
You let out an airy chuckle, “Oh heavens no. I would care more about you than those old reading glasses.”
With those words. Stephanie smiled up at you with those wide eyes of hers.
After multiple broken glasses in your time of using the robins around you, you decided to do something different.
Wear your glasses on your face and act as if you've never taken them off in your entire life.
Which failed very terribly.
Damian was practicing his throwing skills, with ninja stars and knives.
Yeah, it wasn’t when you warned Damian about his swing. But did he listen?
So the next thing you knew was a ninja star was thrown past you like a blow. And thank the lord you didn’t get hit.
Sadly you couldn’t say the same for your precious chain glasses.
Once you felt a slight shift in the air, Damian was frozen.
“I know you didn’t mean to, I’m not mad.” You said quickly knowing how this is gonna go.
You took your glasses off as the beads of your chain glasses broke.
Sighing, you felt like the universe wanted you to be blind or something.
Damian apologized to you, rambling from Arabic words, to English, to a mix. He was truly sorry even if you forgave him beforehand. Titus barked, basically sensing his owner’s distress.
Damian only seemed to relax when you patted his shoulder.
“Let’s go inside and just relax from the throwing practices.”
Damian slowly nodded and held your hand in his tiny one.
