Thinking abt daughter reader (neglected or not, as you please 💕) wearing a fake pearl necklace and having it accidentally torn with the beads falling off... right in front of Bruce :) Bonus reader looking just like Martha Wayne, double bonus if it happens at night when reader is walking down an alleyway after watching a movie, triple bonus if the necklace breaks when reader is being confronted by a mugger, and quadruple bonus (shoutout to Dick Grayson 🙌) reader actually being super chill abt it. Like oh sure here's a hundred bucks oops oh no the fake pearl necklace I bought for flapper aesthetic just broke how embarrassing, oh hello there Mr Batman you look kinda unwell, everything okay?
Gotham, midnight. Rain slicked the pavement, catching neon like oil spills. The kind of night that smelled like trouble.
You weren’t scared.
You’d just seen a re-run of Chicago at one of the art house cinemas, vintage ticket stub still peeking out of your thrifted clutch. The pearls around your neck were cheap—ten bucks off Etsy, “Great Gatsby costume piece” in the description—but they glowed white against your skin like they were real. And maybe, for a little while, that made you feel real too.
The alley was a shortcut. Classic mistake. You weren’t stupid, just tired. Gotham could feel it. The kind of city that always knew when you dropped your guard.
“Hey.”
You turned.
The man was lanky, twitchy. Bad teeth. Knife in hand, eyes jittery with something chemical. “Wallet. Now.”
You blinked. Then sighed, pulling out a crisp hundred-dollar bill from your clutch and holding it out.
“Here.”
He stared. “The hell is this?”
“A hundred,” you said. “I don’t carry a wallet. Too bulky. You can buy three pizzas, get high, maybe even tip someone.”
The mugger hesitated. Then lunged for your bag anyway—fumbling, pulling, his fingers catching on your necklace.
Snap.
Pearls scattered like gunfire on the wet cement. They bounced and rolled, luminous little ghosts vanishing into storm drains.
You stared down at them, unimpressed. “Aw, man. I just bought that. Now I can’t pretend I’m Daisy Buchanan anymore.”
The mugger growled, “Are you serious?”
“I’m trying to be.”
“HEY!”
The voice hit like thunder—deep, familiar, jagged with fury.
From the shadows above, a shape descended. Not just a shape—a myth.
Batman.
Cape snapping behind him, boots hitting ground like judgment day. The mugger didn’t even get to scream before he was disarmed and flat on his back, out cold with a single blow.
You folded your arms. “Wow. He wasn’t even that good.”
Batman turned to you. Stopped.
And stared.
It wasn’t the pearls.
It wasn’t the alley.
It wasn’t even the crime.
It was you.
You looked like a ghost—Martha’s ghost.
Same eyes. Same bone structure. Same pearls—except, no, they were plastic, shattered, lost in puddles. But it didn’t matter. For one split second, Bruce Wayne was back in that alley. The one he never left.
And you—calm, perfectly dry despite the rain, blinking at him like he was the ghost—tilted your head.
“Uh… are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
He didn’t speak.
“Wait,” you frowned. “...Mr. Wayne?”
That made him flinch.
“Yeah,” you said, half-laughing. “Kinda obvious. I mean, the jawline. The brooding. All that justice.” You knelt to pick up one of the fake pearls. “You okay? You look like you’re gonna pass out.”
His throat worked, words caught there.
“I—You shouldn’t have been walking alone,” he finally said, voice rough like gravel. “Gotham’s not safe.”
You pocketed the pearl. “Tell me about it. I got mugged for the first time and lost my aesthetic in the same five seconds.”
A pause.
Then you smiled, too brightly for this haunted city. “Hey. Wanna walk me home? If you’re not too busy glowering.”
Batman—Bruce—nodded, slowly, still pale.
You didn’t see the way his fingers curled slightly when he looked at your hand.
You didn’t see the way his eyes followed each broken pearl like a funeral procession.
But you noticed the silence.
“…Do I remind you of someone?” you asked softly, as you walked together out of the alley.
He didn’t answer.
Didn’t need to.
The rain kept falling. But he stayed by your side the whole way home.
And when he finally disappeared into the dark, you whispered behind him, “Take care of yourself, Batman.”
Later, in the Batcave…
Dick: “Bruce? You okay? You look like death warmed over.”
Bruce: “…She looked just like her.”
Dick: half-joking “Martha?”
Bruce: silence
Dick: “…You’re not serious—wait. Wait. Was she wearing pearls?!”
🌊. The Onyro's Demon | Blue Eye Samurai x Male Reader
The description is down below. This is also on my Wattpad and Quotev! Enjoy!
Description: The Onryo's Demon | You are Here
More about you: More about you
Chapter 1: The Demon and the Onyro |TBW
Chapter 2: Swords of Blood Covered Harmony | TBW
Chapter 3: One-Handed Tea Party | TBW
Chapter 4: Madame Kaji? Mother Kaji | TBW
Chapter 5: The Birth of a Demon's Rage | TBW
Chapter 6: For Whom the Bells Toll | TBW
Chapter 7: Rebirth of a Demon's Purity | TBW
Chapter 8: The Man must Burn | TBW
There was a boy born from one of the four foreigners that had set foot into Edo Japan, but what he didn't know that there was a fifth man amongst them. That man was but a servant to the white man that had brought with them to help with their illegal trades. Impregnating one of the whores in Madame Kaji's tea house, the man gave birth to an E/c eyed demon. Those eyes rivaled that of the Onryo that he sought out to befriend. When he was 5, the demon wandered into Yokohama, searching for the rumored boy that had eyes just like him. The two had worked as swordsmith apprentices, becoming that of family with each other. A demon and an onyro, a bloodthirsty duo that only had one thing they wanted to fulfill in life… Kill the 5 foreigners that had brought them into existence.
WARNING: -Sexual Assault, Murder, Weapons, Death, Suicide, Gore, Abuse, Sexual Themes, Rascism, Homophobia, Dismemberment, Will add more if needed
Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!
Walk with me. Batfamily x neglected reader x Witch mother x Devil father. Something happens and Gotham ends up in tragedy. So Bruce ends up having to make a deal with the Devil in order get some magical item to save Gotham. And the Devil, being the little shit he is, actually ends up pulling a fast not on Bruce. Being one of the few who as been able to trick him successfully.
And reader is the one who ends up taken. Not dead, but traded. The batfam don't realize at first that reader is gone. When batfam start looking for reader they realize them being taken wasn't a "be carefull what you wish for situation" rather all this was planned. The Devil man wanted reader from the jump. Why??????? His wife, who is a witch, wanted a child and became obessed with reader.
Reader low-key is okay with it because they are acutally loved and don't have to fight for attention/ worrying about being overshadowed by other siblings.
Gotham was choking.
Buildings collapsed under curses older than any spellbook, smoke thick as ash blanketed the streets, and screams became part of the city’s heartbeat. Bruce had seen the city die a thousand small deaths before, but this was different. This was final.
And so he did the one thing he swore he’d never do.
He went to the Devil.
“Ahh, the Bat of Gotham,” the Devil purred, lounging in a throne of embers as if he’d been waiting. His smile curled like smoke. “Here to beg?”
Bruce’s jaw clenched. “I need the relic. The one that can undo this.”
“You mortals. Always need.” A soft laugh, cruel. “And what will you give me, hm? A soul? A favor? Your name, perhaps?”
“I’ll give you whatever you want,” Bruce bit out. “Just save the city.”
The Devil’s grin sharpened. Got him.
“Deal.”
By dawn, Gotham’s fires were gone. The curses unraveled like dust in wind. The city was saved.
But at Wayne Manor, Alfred’s voice carried a strange tremor:
“They’re… not here, Master Bruce.”
Reader’s room was empty. Not just their bed—everything. Clothes, books, photos, even the trinkets they hoarded. Their presence had been erased as neatly as a chalk line in the rain.
It took days before the Devil came again, smoke curling around his shoulders like a lover’s hand.
“You should thank me,” he drawled, watching Bruce stiffen. “I gave your city life. And I gave my wife the only thing she’s ever wanted.”
“What did you—”
The Devil’s eyes gleamed. “A child.”
Reader woke not in Gotham, but in a house carved of bone and velvet, where chandeliers dripped candlelight that never burned out. A woman waited there, pale and radiant, with eyes that gleamed like stormwater.
“My child,” she whispered, pulling Reader into her arms as if they had always belonged there. “You’re home.”
The Witch mother doted on them—warm meals, soft hands, whispered spells shared like bedtime stories. The Devil, for all his cruelty, spoiled them with gifts: blades forged from starlight, pets made of smoke and shadow, a world where they were seen.
For the first time, Reader didn’t feel like a shadow in their own family. No more being overlooked, no more scraping for attention among brighter, louder siblings. Here, they were wanted.
When the Batfamily finally found them—slipping into the Devil’s realm with grit and desperation—they expected chains, bruises, fear.
Instead, they found Reader laughing softly as the Witch braided their hair.
“Reader—” Dick’s voice cracked. “We’re here. We’ll get you out.”
Reader blinked at them, expression unreadable. Then, calm as still water:
“Why would I want to leave?”
Jason swore under his breath. Damian drew his blade. Tim’s hands shook as if reaching across a gulf. Bruce stood frozen, the Devil’s grin echoing in his mind.
“You never wanted me there,” Reader said, voice soft but cutting. “Here, I don’t have to fight to be seen. I don’t have to be second best. They love me.”
The Witch pressed a kiss to their temple, eyes locking with Bruce’s. Mine now, she seemed to say.
And Bruce understood the truth far too late. Gotham was saved, yes. But the cost had always been this.
Not a careless mistake. Not a trick of words.
A plan.
The Devil had wanted Reader from the start.
And for the first time in years, Bruce Wayne couldn’t tell if he’d lost his child… or if Reader had finally been found.
Can you do Batfamly x neglected reader x yandere Superfamily, where neglected reader is so much more in tune with superfam rather than batfam. Clark randomly found out bruce had another kid (neglected reader) and didn't tell him and Clark wants to meet them, because why would his buddy not tell him this.
Cut to them all having dinner at the Kent farm with the whole superfamily and reader loves it. Reader was raised in the coutryside on a farm before living with the batfamly. Reader does not like the big city, Smallville is so comforting to them, wants to stay forever. They would be be up early in the morning offering to help the kents work around the farm, its not like they haven't done it before.
After that trip reader ends up sneaking out and leaving the batfamly or gets secretly taken by the superfamily, but reader isn't complaning, cause there home again.
It started with a casual conversation.
Clark had been over at the Watchtower with Bruce when he noticed a folder Bruce hastily tried to tuck away.
“Wait—‘L/N’? Bruce, is this a kid’s file? Don’t tell me you’re fostering again and didn’t tell me.”
Bruce froze. “They’re mine.”
Clark blinked. “Excuse me? You have another child and didn’t tell me?”
“I had my reasons,” Bruce muttered, not meeting Clark’s eyes.
Clark’s warmth dropped just a degree. “What’s their name?”
🌽 PART TWO: Dinner at the Kent Farm
You were more surprised than anyone when Bruce told you the Superman wanted to meet you. The Superfamily had never crossed your life much. You weren't a super, after all.
But the invitation to Smallville was... intriguing. Nostalgic, even.
The moment your boots touched Kent soil, something inside you relaxed. The fresh air. The gentle wind. The sound of cows mooing in the distance.
“Hi there,” said a kind woman—Martha Kent. She opened her arms, and for the first time in what felt like years, you felt wanted. No stiff hugs. No interrogations. Just soft acceptance.
Dinner was warm and loud and sweet. Jon talked your ear off. Kon offered you dessert before the main course. Kara was already pulling out her phone and asking for selfies. Even Krypto laid his head on your lap.
And Clark?
Clark just watched you with a gentle smile, as if trying to memorize every expression you made.
“You were raised on a farm?” he asked as the sun set, your laugh echoing through the fields.
“Yeah,” you said softly. “Before Gotham. Before... all of that.”
“Do you miss it?”
You looked up at the stars.
“…Every single day.”
🌕 PART THREE: The Next Morning
You woke up before dawn, slipping out of the guest room and tying your boots.
By the time Martha and Clark came downstairs, you were already out back feeding chickens and checking the fences.
“You didn’t have to do that, sweetheart,” Martha said.
“I wanted to,” you replied. “It feels like home again.”
🏙️ PART FOUR: Return to Gotham
Back in Wayne Manor, you were quiet again.
Damian was cold. Tim was distracted. Jason made snarky comments you were too tired to dodge. Dick tried, but it wasn’t the same.
No early morning chores. No wide skies. No fresh air. No one looked up when you entered a room.
You missed the way Kara let you nap on her shoulder. The way Clark listened so patiently. The way Jon lit up when you showed him how to fix a fence post.
You missed family.
🌌 PART FIVE: The Disappearance
You disappeared three days later.
No note. No text. No trace.
But Clark knew exactly where you’d gone. Because he’d been watching. Waiting. Hoping.
Bruce came storming into the Kent home three nights later.
“Where are they?” he growled.
“Safe,” Clark answered calmly, arms crossed.
“They belong with me.”
Clark’s eyes narrowed. “Do they? Because they told Martha they cried themselves to sleep in your house. They told Kara they were treated like a weapon, not a person. They told me… they didn’t want to leave.”
“You took them.”
“No,” Clark corrected, “I gave them a choice. And they chose to stay.”
Behind him, you stood at the doorframe, sun-kissed and smiling in a way you never had at the Manor.
How about neglectful Batfamily x divorced wife reader x yandere Clark kent. After neglected reader divorces Bruce clark ends up seducing neglected reader. Clark has always liked reader and knew he could treat you better that bruce ever could. Clark kept it secret until after the batfam realizes why they lost they discovered reader already is pregnant and got married so quickly to clark
Shout out to @luludeluluramblings, and @acid-ixx
[Cold Open – Batcave]
The family is gathered around the Batcomputer. Bruce looks annoyed, Jason is eating chips loudly, Tim is typing, Damian is sulking, and Dick is trying to keep everyone calm.
Dick: So [Y/N] left. Big deal, people leave all the time. The important thing is we don’t panic.
Jason: mouth full Oh I’m panicking. Because now Superman is their rebound, and you can’t compete with cheekbones like that.
Damian: deadpan to camera He doesn’t even have cheekbones. He has… cliffs.
[Cutaway – Jason, interview style]
Jason: Look, if you lose someone to Clark Kent? That’s not neglect, that’s Darwinism. Survival of the hottest.
[Scene – Clark’s Apartment]
Clark: smiling as he cooks dinner I just think [Y/N] deserves to be spoiled.
Reader: You’re literally treating me like a houseplant. Food, water, and sunlight.
Clark: And love. Don’t forget love.
Reader: to camera, cutaway He says “love” like other people say “tax audit.”
[Scene – Wayne Manor]
Tim: sighs, scrolling on the Batcomputer They changed their relationship status to “married.”
Dick: Married?! How—when—why?!
Jason: laughing Dude, you blink and Clark Kent has already built them a house in Kansas and named the cows after them.
Damian: hisses He stole my mom...
[Cutaway – Damian, interview style]
Damian: People say Superman is the world’s symbol of hope. For me, he’s the world’s symbol of theft.
[Scene – Clark & Reader on Couch]
Reader: You know, you don’t have to be so protective.
Clark: I’m not protective. I’m… proactive.
Reader: You’re proactive the way a hurricane is “windy.”
[Cutaway – Reader, interview style]
Reader: Don’t get me wrong, Clark is sweet. But sometimes he looks at me like he’s about to monologue: imitating Clark “You are my sun, my moon, my Kryptonite.” And I’m just like… buddy, I still haven’t folded my laundry.
[Scene – Wayne Manor, Living Room]
Bruce: We need to strategize.
Jason: Strategize? He already locked that down. They’re wearing the ring, B.
Dick: Maybe we can appeal to [Y/N]. Family. History.
Tim: muttering Or maybe we could’ve appealed to them five years ago when they needed us.
Awkward silence.
[Cutaway – Bruce, interview style]
Bruce: I’m not good at… words. Or emotions. Or parenting. long pause Honestly, I’m not sure why people keep letting me adopt kids.
[Final Scene – Clark & Reader in Kitchen]
Clark: I just want you to be happy.
Reader: grinning Well, you married me, so clearly I’m making questionable choices.
Clark: soft smile Best questionable choice I’ve ever made.
Camera zooms in on them hugging, then smash cut to Jason watching their livestream with popcorn.
Jason: to camera Yeah, they’re doomed. But at least it’s entertaining.
Can you write Batfamily with a reader that is a dragon basically the little girl is 4 years old and she became orphaned after her mom was killed and Bruce finds her and brings her home and chaos ensues because of her chewing on things and flying around basically like a lil puppy
[Day 1: Bruce brings Reader home]
Alfred: Master Bruce… there's a dragon in the foyer.
Bruce: Yes. She's four. She lost her mother. She's staying with us now.
Alfred: ...She is currently chewing on Master Damian’s sword.
Damian: SHE BIT ME.
Reader (with a mouthful of metal): "Nom nom shiny!"
Dick: I’m gonna cry. She’s so cute.
[Later, in the Batcave]
Tim: Why is the Batcomputer covered in glitter and… is that ash?
Jason: She tried to eat it.
Tim: WHY?
Jason: I told her it had “bytes.”
Tim: JASON.
[At dinner]
Bruce: Let’s all welcome our new family member.
Reader (from under the table): growling
Damian: She just bit my ankle.
Dick: That means she likes you!
Reader: burps a tiny fireball
Jason: I love her.
[Nighttime]
Dick (panicked): Has anyone seen my blanket?
Reader (snuggled up in a nest of stolen socks, blankets, and cape pieces): tiny snore
Jason: She hoards soft things. Like a real dragon.
Tim: My entire weighted blanket is in that pile.
Damian: She took my sword again.
Bruce: I think I’m missing a boot.
Alfred: …I found it in the oven.
[Training Room Disaster]
Damian: You can’t teach a dragon to stealth. She’s glowing.
Reader (flapping into a wall): I do sneaky!!
Dick (filming): This is gold.
Jason (cheering): LET HER COOK—
Reader: literally breathes fire on a punching bag
Tim (screaming): SHE’S COOKING TOO MUCH.
[Batfam Group Chat]
Tim: Guys. She chewed through my laptop charger. Again.
Damian: She tried to hatch my robin eggs.
Jason: …Why do you have robin eggs?
Dick: Guys she just called me “sparkle knight” and gave me a sock. I’m crying.
Bruce: She’s learning. Show her patience.
Reader (typing): HAHAHAH FIRE BUTTON FUNNY
Bruce: …Where is she.
Alfred: Currently stuck to the ceiling with peanut butter.
Beloved Batfam Toddler or Child Reader... Halloween edition!
Have you ever had to run after a child while keeping them safe during trick-or-treating? Kids are balls of energy that take a loooong time to get tired, they also get bored quickly. So that got me thinking:
Reader's first time trick-or-treating, what costume would they wear (imagine them in a non-batfam costume but another superhero costume lol)? Who would walk around with them and keep them safe (would the fam have a battle before every halloween just to have the honor of protecting you for halloween?)? Who would they give their best candies to? And who would they give the worst candies to?
How would halloween look like as years go by, imagine if Reader refuses to wear any Batfam costume and always goes as every other JL hero every year, one time it was the Flash, next was Superman, WW, heck, sometimes even villains were their favored costume, but one fateful night, Reader wanted to play a trick (or-treat, sorry, couldn't help myself) and wore one Batfam costume....and caused chaos among the family.
What if one Halloween, Reader sees a cool costume and points to the guy and says "I really like your costume, you look awesome!", with sparkling eyes, and it turns out to be one of the villains who escaped Arkham.
The villain: "🥹, awww, thank you, tiny child"
Anyways, I can't think up more atm, but I'd love to read your take on this!
And please, get carried away again, cuz we (the readers) definitely love it.
Thank you!! 💕
(All costumes are non-Batfam JL heroes… until they’re not.)
Reader (age 3, in a puffy Superman onesie with a crooked S): “Up, up, and away!” trips over cape
Bruce (carrying them like a football): “We’re working on the landing.”
Dick (holding a map of Gotham’s safest trick-or-treat route): “Okay, kiddo, we hit Elm Street first, then—”
Reader: “NO. CANDY NOW.”
Dick: “You’re three. You don’t even have a plan.”
Reader: “I have vision.”
Jason (watching Reader sprint toward a house with a “Take One” bowl): “They just took twelve.”
Tim: “That’s not trick-or-treating. That’s a heist.”
Reader (mouth full of Snickers): “Tax.”
Damian (age 10, arms crossed): “Grayson, you are not qualified to escort the blood heir.”
Dick: “I’ve been babysitting since you were in diapers, demon brat.” Reader (tugging Damian’s cape): “I pick Jay.”
Jason (smirking): “Suck it, losers.”
Dick & Damian, simultaneously: “BETRAYAL.”
Reader (age 5, dressed as The Flash, vibrating in place): “GOFASTGOFASTGOFAST—”
Barry Allen (visiting, actual Flash): “Kid, you’re gonna give me a run for my money.”
Reader: “Race you to the moon.”
Barry: “...I like this one.”
Reader (age 6, in a Wonder Woman tiara, holding a lasso): “WHO ATE MY REESE’S?!”
Tim (hiding wrapper): “It was a tactical sacrifice.”
Reader: “THE LASSO COMPELS YOU.”
Tim: “...It was Jason.”
Jason (from the vents): “SNITCH.”
Bruce (handing out full-size candy bars at the manor door): “Trick or treaters get one.”
Reader (in Green Lantern hoodie): “But I’m you but tiny.”
Bruce: “...Take three.”
Alfred (watching): “Master Bruce, you have a weakness.”
Bruce: “It’s strategic.”
Reader (age 7, dressed as Harley Quinn—chaos ensues): “Puddin’! Let’s blow up the pumpkin!”
Dick (panicking): “NO EXPLOSIVES—”
Reader: “It’s a fake mallet!”
Jason (tearing up): “They grow up so fast.”
THE YEAR READER WEARS A BATFAM COSTUME
Reader (age 8, in a tiny Red Hood helmet): “Trick or treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat.”
Jason (frozen): “...That’s my voice.”
Reader (pulling out a plastic gun): “Bang.”
Jason: “I’m gonna cry.”
Dick (sobbing): “They picked Jason?!”
Damian: “This is a hate crime.”
Reader (pointing at actual Joker escaping Arkham, in full makeup): “COOL CLOWN! YOUR COSTUME IS AWESOME!”
Joker (mid-getaway, touched): “Aww, kiddo, you get it—”
Nightwing (tackling him): “STOP BONDING WITH MY BABY!” Reader: “But he said thank you...”
Reader (age 9, dressed as Aquaman, holding a trident pool noodle): “I command the seven seas... of candy.”
Arthur Curry (visiting): “Finally, some respect.”
Bruce: “You’re not taking them to Atlantis.”
Arthur: “Too late. They’re already king.”
Tim (trying to enforce a candy curfew): “Bedtime. No more sugar.” Reader (in Martian Manhunter cape, levitating Oreos): “You can’t see me.”
Tim: “...I need a raise.”
Reader (age 10, in a Black Adam onesie): “I AM THE STORM.”
Bruce: “You’re grounded from lightning.”
Reader: “YOU CAN’T GROUND WEATHER.”
Final Halloween (age 11, in a mysterious costume—hood up, voice modulator): “Guess who I am.”
Entire Batfam: “...Batman?”
Reader (pulling hood down, revealing Clark Kent glasses): “Nope. Superman’s secret identity.”
Bruce: “...I need to sit down.”
Clark (laughing): “They’re smarter than all of you.”
Bonus (every year, without fail):
Reader (handing Alfred a single Hershey’s Kiss): “This is the best one. For you.”
Alfred (tearing up): “Master Wayne, I’m keeping this child forever.”
Hiii! I love your content so much, and I wanted to ask if you could do a Yandere Batfam (not neglected) where the reader LOVES the Avengers (I imagine the Avengers are fiction here).
One day, the school allows students to attend dressed as superheroes, and the reader goes as Captain America and on the way home, she keeps yapping about Captain America being her favorite and the Batfam starts getting jealous, because Captain America reminds them of Superman (you know, all noble, shiny, and perfect), so they start thinking she prefers that kind of hero. 😭
The best part is that the reader doesn’t even know their secret identities, so they can’t say anything 💀
I hope you're okay, where I live it's already nighttime so good night ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
The autumn air in Gotham carried a bite, sharp enough to nip at your cheeks as you skipped down the cracked sidewalk toward Wayne Manor. Your Captain America costume—thrifted shield, star-spangled leggings, and a thrifted bomber jacket spray-painted with the iconic “A”—clung to you like a second skin. You’d spent weeks perfecting it for superhero day at Gotham Academy, and the compliments still buzzed in your ears like bees drunk on honey.
“—and then he just throws the helicopter like it’s a paper airplane!” you gushed, swinging your shield in a wide arc. “Captain America’s perfect, you know? All noble and shiny and good. Like, he’d never let anyone down. Not even once.”
Dick, walking beside you in civilian clothes (because of course he’d “forgotten” it was costume day), forced a laugh that sounded more like a cough. “Yeah, uh… super noble. Shiny. Got it.”
Behind you, Jason snorted. “Sounds like a boy scout with a trust fund.”
“Exactly!” You spun around, eyes sparkling. “But, like, a hot boy scout. And then there’s Tony Stark—” You clutched your chest dramatically. “The snark. The suits. The way he says ‘I am Iron Man’ like it’s a flex? I’d let him step on me.”
Tim, trailing with his hands in his pockets, muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “He’s not even real.”
Damian, arms crossed and scowling at a pigeon, scoffed. “Stark is a narcissistic man-child with daddy issues. Rogers is a fossil with a superiority complex. You have terrible taste.”
You gasped, mock-offended. “Excuse me, demon brat, Captain America is a treasure. And Tony? Tony could ruin my life and I’d thank him.”
Bruce, bringing up the rear in his usual dark coat (because God forbid he wear anything remotely fun), cleared his throat. “We’re home.”
The manor loomed ahead, all gothic arches and gargoyles judging your life choices. You bounded up the steps, still yapping. “—and the shield? Iconic. I mean, Batman’s cool and all, but he’s so grr all the time. Cap’s like… sunshine in spandex.”
Inside, Alfred raised an eyebrow at your ensemble but said nothing, simply gliding past with a tray of cookies. You snatched one mid-sentence. “—and Tony’s arc reactor? The glow? I bet it’s warm. Like a hug. From a billionaire.”
Dick collapsed onto the couch, rubbing his temples. “You know Cap’s, like, a hundred years old, right?”
“Cryogenically preserved,” you corrected, flopping beside him. “He’s timeless. And Tony ages like fine wine. Or expensive scotch. Whatever.”
Jason leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “So what you’re saying is you’d pick a fossil and a playboy over—” He gestured vaguely at the room. “—us?”
You blinked. “Over you? You guys aren’t even heroes. You’re just… weirdly buff and brooding. Like a boy band that forgot how to smile.”
Tim choked on his coffee.
Damian’s eye twitched. “Tch. If you knew—”
Bruce shot him a look sharp enough to cut glass. Damian snapped his mouth shut.
You tilted your head. “Knew what?”
“Nothing,” Dick said quickly, too quickly. “Just… you’re really into these fictional guys, huh?”
“Duh.” You hugged your shield to your chest. “They’re perfect. Cap’s all selfless and noble, and Tony’s a chaotic genius who’d probably build me a suit just to impress me. What’s not to love?”
Jason’s jaw clenched. “Selfless. Noble. Right.”
You didn’t notice the way Bruce’s fingers tightened around his phone, or how Tim’s eyes narrowed at the Captain America poster you’d taped to the fridge last week. Or how Damian was this close to challenging a fictional character to a duel.
Later, in the Batcave (where you were not supposed to be, but Alfred had a soft spot for your puppy eyes), the family gathered like a war council.
“She’s obsessed,” Dick hissed, pacing. “Captain America. He’s basically Superman with better PR.”
“Stark’s worse,” Jason growled. “She said she’d let him step on her.”
Tim, hunched over the Batcomputer, pulled up a file labeled AVENGERS - FICTIONAL THREAT ASSESSMENT. “They’re not even real. But she thinks they’re better than—” He gestured at the cave. “—this.”
Damian slammed his katana onto the table. “We should eliminate the competition.”
Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. “We are not assassinating fictional characters.”
“Yet,” Jason muttered.
Dick flopped into a chair. “She doesn’t even know. We can’t just—‘Hey, kid, your superhero crushes are lame because we’re the real deal.’”
Tim’s fingers flew over the keyboard. “We could… sabotage her merch? Replace the shield with a Batarang?”
“No,” Bruce snapped. Then, quieter: “She’s happy. Let her have this.”
Jason kicked a stalagmite. “She called Cap ‘sunshine in spandex.’ Sunshine.”
Damian sneered. “I could be sunshine. If I wanted to.”
Dick buried his face in his hands. “We’re jealous of a fictional boy scout and a billionaire with a goatee.”
Upstairs, you were sprawled on the couch, scrolling through Tony Stark fanart on your phone, blissfully unaware of the five vigilantes plotting psychological warfare against your fictional boyfriends.
“—and then he blows up the suit for her? Romantic as hell,” you sighed dreamily.
In the cave, Bruce stared at the giant penny like it had personally betrayed him.
“Alfred,” he said finally, “burn the Captain America poster.”
Alfred’s voice drifted down the stairs, dry as ever: “Master Bruce, I refuse to commit arson over a fictional patriot.”
You, oblivious, hugged your shield tighter. “I love my superhero boyfriends.”
Somewhere in the shadows, five capes seethed.
(Good night, sweet dreamer. The Batfam’s simmering, but your fictional faves live rent-free in your heart—and their nightmares.)
A/N: I added Tony Stark because, why not? He was my first love in Marvel...
