Latest Posts by ilovecoffe0 - Page 5

Danny covered his nose with his hand. Where ever he landed smelled absolutely foul, like rotten fruit and burning tires mixed with chem lab.

"Remind me to bring a face mask the next time I explore the Infinite Realms." He muttered, before kicking a soda can down the alley he was in and being repulsed by the squelch sound it made when it came into contact with a very questionable looking puddle, "Better yet, a gas mask." He glanced at the puddle again, "Or I could go full Hazmat." Clockwork had told him this world was full of superheros and villians and to steer clear of it, but once he learned there were aliens in this world he couldn't help himself. Danny had always been weak to his curiosity, but he liked to believe he was cautious, and chose to stay in his Phantom for for added protection.

Turning on his heel he exited onto a deserted street lined on one side by a chain-link fence. The sky above him was filled with clouds so ominous and dark that Danny honestly couldn't tell you if it was night or day, all he knew was that it was going to rain soon and hopefully these awful smells would be drowned out by the downpour.

Danny got his wish only minutes later. Thankfully Phantom was unbothered by the cold and could just bask in the rain as it fell apon him. A lesser known fact about ghosts is that thier clothes are made from thier ectoplasm and are part of thier bodies, much like a second layer of skin, so one would be able to feel things on thier clothes as easily as they would with thier bare skin. The level of sensitivity varies with the type of clothing however. All this to say Danny loved the feeling of the rivulets of rainwater traveling down his ghostly hazmat suit.

He was so preoccupied with enjoying the sensation that he didn't notice anything was wrong until he was jolted forward from the weight of someone landing on his back. The person was quick and precise, taking no time at all to have his wrists pinned behind his back and- weirdly enough- thier teeth digging into the material around his neck.

His parents designed the Hazmat suit Danny was wearing not only to deal with dangerous chemicals, but to fight supernatural foes. The area around the neck was reinforced with the intention of protecting against fatal gunshots and decapitations so naturally someone's jaw wasn't going to be enough to break through to his neck.

Danny let out a laugh as the person kept chewing on his neck like a confused puppy. Oh, Danny thought, they've gone feral. It was odd for someone to go feral but it could occur when a person has gone through something traumatic recently or through extreme stress. It made sense since the person ridding piggy back on him was dressed like a superhero. Danny wondered if that was why the person didn't have a scent. Danny learns facepalmed when he remembered that scentblockers existed and not everyone's scent dramatically changed whenever they went out as a hero. The scent change was probably one of the few things that have kept him alive up to this point to be honest.

"So, I guess you're not going to tell me why you're chewing on my neck like the worlds most pathetic vampire, are you?" No one deserves that title more than the fruitloop to be honest. He made a mental not to use that one against Vlad the next time he saw him.

Chewy whined at this, seeming to slump a bit from the apparent failure to bite him. What was that about? Was this actually a vampire? How would a vampire even react to Dannys ecto-blood combo meal anyway? Would it be like food poisoning? Or would it taste amazing from one undead to another. "I'm not exactly human, are you sure you wanna bite me? I might not taste so good." Danny warned, but the moment he mentioned letting the person bite him they were eager again.

Danny chuckled and unzipped the material only a bit before it was loose enough to move out of the way. The vampires bite came with a sharp pain like he expected but there was no suction. No drinking of blood. Just some weirdo biting Danny on the neck. Huh.

Danny hoped he didn't get rabies from this.

He must have accidentally said that out loud as there was a small laugh from the rooftops above them. There stood another person in a superhero outfit with some really tall dude dressed as a giant bat, and that was when Danny decided to bail. It was one thing to let a maybe vampire bite you in a random street in the middle of the night but more of them? And ones a big scary furry? Hard pass.

Phantom did as Phantoms do and went invisible and intangible, escaping from Biteys jaws and startling the heros. He ignored the distressed whine Munchy let out after loosing their spookyest chew toy and quickly rubbed the scent gland near dannys jaw on the top of thier head as an act of comfort before bolting.

----

Danny poked at the bite mark on his neck. Screw rabies, he better not get turned into a werewolf. He didn't need that on top of his ghostly crap. Sam seemed fascinated by the mark, after all, it wasn't every day that Danny got a scar, especially one so obvious. Most injuries heal quickly and leave no trace of him ever being injured in the first place which helped a lot in keeping his secret identity.

Luckily Danny hadn't needed to lie to mom and dad. He truthfully told them about some wierdo jumping off of a nearby rooftop and plunging thier teeth into his neck and that two other people had tried to corner him during this. He assured his mom that he had gotten away quickly but was a little shaken by it and his dad praised him for being brave and managing to escape.

That was nice. But he still had to figure out what was up with this bite...and why he felt so compelled to go back to that city.

Back to that hero.

-----

Aka an A/B/O au where in Danny's universe all the Alphas are extinct and the betas followed soon after and the DC universe all the Omegas went extinct and betas followed after . Not like a "they finally went extinct in the 1700s after centuries of thier numbers dwindling" thing and became a myth/fairytale (tho I like that too) but a "this might be the missing link between cave men and modern humans" kinda thing.

Its up to you which bat bit Danny and exactly what that means. I love abo aus without smut cause there's so much potential for chaos and I am very much ace.

I love them so much

Clark Kent is firmly in his civilian persona. This is a problem, given that the airplane he's on with Lois is about to collide with another plane on the runway.

He can see the other plane about to t-bone them, and is fully prepared to...somehow fumble his way through an explanation as to why he disappeared and superman took his place, but the meta kid sitting next to him has a different idea.

The meta kid let's out a strangled shriek, grips the armrests of the seat, and the entire plane goes intangible.

The other plane delicately just...glides through their plane, and everyone on their plane and everyone on the other plane just stare at each other as they pass by in horrified silence.

The people seated where the other planes engines are passing through harmlessly initially let out a few terrified screams, but they taper off when they realize that nothing is happening.

Then it's over.

The kid, hyperventilating, lets go of the armrests once the other plane has completely cleared them, and immediately goes for one of those little baggies to empty the contents of his stomach.

His nose is bleeding, his ears are bleeding, and he looks dazed. He clearly overdid it.

Clark is running a hand up and down his back, trying to get him comfortable, while the other passengers and crew stare at the kid in awe.

After all, there's only one person acting like this after something as insane as making every single person intangible. It has to be the kid. The kid has to be a meta, and that meta just saved all of them.

But the kid peeks up at Clark, eyes full of fear, and says something that makes his heart drop into his stomach.

"Please don't tell my parents."

Clark Kent is firmly in his civilian persona. This is a problem, given that the airplane he's on with Lois is about to collide with another plane on the runway.

He can see the other plane about to t-bone them, and is fully prepared to...somehow fumble his way through an explanation as to why he disappeared and superman took his place, but the meta kid sitting next to him has a different idea.

The meta kid let's out a strangled shriek, grips the armrests of the seat, and the entire plane goes intangible.

The other plane delicately just...glides through their plane, and everyone on their plane and everyone on the other plane just stare at each other as they pass by in horrified silence.

The people seated where the other planes engines are passing through harmlessly initially let out a few terrified screams, but they taper off when they realize that nothing is happening.

Then it's over.

The kid, hyperventilating, lets go of the armrests once the other plane has completely cleared them, and immediately goes for one of those little baggies to empty the contents of his stomach.

His nose is bleeding, his ears are bleeding, and he looks dazed. He clearly overdid it.

Clark is running a hand up and down his back, trying to get him comfortable, while the other passengers and crew stare at the kid in awe.

After all, there's only one person acting like this after something as insane as making every single person intangible. It has to be the kid. The kid has to be a meta, and that meta just saved all of them.

But the kid peeks up at Clark, eyes full of fear, and says something that makes his heart drop into his stomach.

"Please don't tell my parents."

Its past their bedtime

GHOSTS OF THE PAST

(Batfam x neglected hero reader)

a bird longs for freedom, just like me.

WARNINGS: violence, swearing, writing errors (English is not my first language), torture, reader has blue eyes and black hair!, fem reader, spider man reader, everything is fictional!

CHAPTERS

0 → Prologue

I → ghosts

II –> Poison

III → Spider

IV → Mask [1] and [2]

V → Bats

VI → Thunder [1] and [2]

VII → Rain

[....]

OTHERS

memes

[1] and [2]

Scenarios

sweets~

Christmas special

Fanfic in progress, new chapters will be added soon!

the other family

Batfam Yan! × Negleted Coraline! Reader

《Platonic》

Note: English is not my first language, sorry if there is any translation error

Pt: 1 2

This sucked

This family was the worst, you would have preferred to be in an orphanage than here.

You had been living with this stupid family for almost a decade and at no point did it seem like they cared about you.

You didn't know them that well, ever since you came to the mansion you didn't get along with anyone

Everyone seemed so focused on their responsibilities that you could never talk to any of them.

And you weren't going to beg for their attention, if they didn't give you attention you weren't going to give it to them either

You still had a little dignity and you swore to yourself to never beg anyone, you were much better than that.

Putting that aside, your life was pretty boring

You didn't go to school and you were homeschooled, plus the mansion was pretty creepy and no kid would ever come near you so you could say you didn't have any friends.

Even if you went to school you didn't think you'd have any friends either, people always said you were weird so you didn't think you'd be lucky to have any friends

Unless they want to be friends with someone as weird as you

You could say that the only one you had on your side was Alfred, he was like the grandfather you never had

He was the only one who noticed you among all the darkness that surrounded this mansion.

Your father and your brothers weren't the best, you couldn't say they were bad people.

They were just too busy dealing with their own problems that sometimes they ended up ignoring many things.

But deep down inside you wanted them to notice you.

You would like to be able to share those family moments with them, but that wish was only possible in your dreams.

_

You were walking through the halls of the mansion as usual, most of the time you spent outside walking through the gardens in the company of a strange black cat that for some reason had managed to enter the mansion

As you continued your tour you noticed a strange door, you had never seen it before which was strange since you swore you had discovered every place in this mansion

With curiosity you approached the door and opened it, it looked like a normal room

Maybe it had a little dust and cobwebs, it seemed as if no one had entered this room in years

You saw a small trunk next to a piece of furniture, those two things were the only thing in this strange room

You approached the trunk first and opened it, there was not much just some old books and trinkets

But there was something that caught your attention

A doll

But it was not just any doll, it looked too much like you it was as if it were an identified copy of you

Surprised you grabbed the doll and You examined it, it didn't look old which made it seem very strange that it wasn't dusty

It was too well preserved, you thought that maybe it was just a coincidence that it looked like you

But, you were surprised that it was wearing the same clothes that you were wearing at that moment

You tried to convince yourself that it was just a coincidence, it shouldn't mean anything

You were just overthinking things again, right?

You got up from the floor and left the doll on the small piece of furniture in the room, you began to inspect the room more closely looking for something else interesting

A few minutes passed and you found nothing, only small spider nests and the occasional rat skeleton, god, this place needs to be cleaned urgently

You were going to leave the room after not finding anything but something caught your attention, the wall looked very strange

You approached to touch it and you felt that something was out of place, as if something was inside those walls

Your curiosity was stronger and you decided to tear the wallpaper off the wall, Alfred's scolding for breaking the wall would be worth it if what was hidden between the walls was worth it

After completely tearing the wall your eyes opened in surprise, it was a small door

You crouched down to be able to better inspect the strange door, it was too small the only way to get in there was by crouching or being too small

You tried to open the door but it was locked, you frowned and let out a sigh of defeat

But then an idea entered your mind, maybe the key was between the drawers of that small piece of furniture

You quickly got up and went quickly to the small piece of furniture in the room, you started to search through all the drawers for a key but you only found buttons, needles and small blurry polaroid photos

You opened the last drawer hoping it was a key and when it appeared today you were very lucky because you found a small key, it was a little worn and had a strange shape but you didn't give it any importance

You approached the door again, you put the key in and the small door opened

You couldn't believe what you were seeing, when you opened the door you saw a small narrow hallway full of blue colors, you were very surprised and you thought that maybe it was some kind of dream but you knew it wasn't, this was real

You didn't know whether to go in or not, your instinct told you that it could be dangerous But your curiosity was too great, what kind of secrets that you still didn't know was hidden in this mansion?

You let out a nervous sigh and decided to enter this mysterious place, it may or may not be dangerous.

You really didn't know, but you were going to find out.

After entering the strange door and having to crawl to get to the other end because the space was too small, you finally reached the other side.

After a few seconds you were able to reach the other side of the narrow hallway, you slowly opened the door until you could get out of there

You stood up and looked around confused, it was the same room just a little more tidy and clean

Was this some kind of joke?

You decided to take a risk and leave the room, you began to slowly walk through the halls of the mansion

The mansion seemed more colorful and full of life

Your body stopped dead as soon as you felt arms around you from behind

You quickly turned around to hit whatever was behind you but you were surprised to see Richard

Richard

He looked the same but at the same time so different, it was the first time he hugged you like that and he was so affectionate

He had always been good and affectionate with the whole family except you, and that made you feel a little jealous of the others

"It's good that you came back, little sister, I was so worried!"

He said as he hugged you tightly, he had that worried yet sweet tone he used with everyone

You could barely process everything that was happening, you stared at him for a moment and your eyes caught something you had never seen in the original Richard

His eyes...

...

HIS EYES WERE BUTTONS!?

You stood in shock for a few seconds with your mouth open as you looked at him, you couldn't believe what was happening this couldn't be real But it felt so real

Too real

"Your...your eyes"

You said breathlessly looking at him in surprise, he just let out a small laugh at your surprise

"What's wrong with my eyes?"

"Your eyes are...they're buttons-"

Before you could finish speaking he interrupted you

"Buttons? Oh yes, it's just a small, unimportant detail"

He said without paying much attention to that detail

Your brain could barely process everything that was happening

What kind of crazy dream was this?

_

This was the best thing that ever happened to you!

Apparently Richard wasn't the only family member in the mansion, they all looked so different but at the same time so similar to their original versions

If we take away the fact that everyone's eyes are buttons, they were what you always wanted

They treated you well and were kind to you, even Damian who in your original world hated you and despised you in this world was very sweet and treated you like a real older sister to him

You did activities that you never thought they would do with you, everything was perfect

This was what you always dreamed of and you wouldn't change it for anything

You didn't remember how much time had passed since you came to this other world but you didn't care, if it was by your own decision you would stay here forever

And they wouldn't mind having you forever

_

You found yourself walking through the gardens as usual, accompanied by the black cat that you had met in your original dimension, it had appeared the first day after you came to this world

The best of all He could talk, he was a kind of guide for you and you were grateful for it

It seemed that not only your family had changed but all of Gotham

"You should be careful with them, (name)"

The cat said as he swung between the flowers and bushes in the garden

You just raised an eyebrow at the cat's comment

"Why do you say that?"

You asked curiously, since you had come to this world the talking cat had become too attached to you

And for some strange reason he distrusted your new family too much, whenever one of them tried to get close to you when the cat was near they received a hiss and also showed their claws

"Just don't trust them too much, they are plotting something that I don't like, trust me, my cat senses never fail"

He said seriously, you thought he was just exaggerating too much besides your new family was very good

It wouldn't make sense for them to want to hurt you

"You worry too much, if something was wrong I would have noticed it already just relax"

The black cat just stared at you without saying anything, he felt sorry for the fate that awaited you in the claws of that family

He just hoped it wasn't too late to convince you to leave this world

_

The whole family was gathered in the dining room, they had thrown a surprise party for you, it was a kind of official welcome and you were very excited

Your original family had never thrown a party for you and this was all just new to you

Next to the cake was a small gift, this was the best thing that could have happened to you

"What are you waiting for? Open the gift now"

Jason said handing you the gift, you nodded happily

But as soon as you opened the gift your smile disappeared

"Buttons?..."

You said confused looking at the strange gift

"You don't like it? You can be like us and stay here forever, don't you want that?"

Richard said approaching you, you could feel a bad feeling when you saw him near you and instinctively you got up from the table

"It's not that... it's just that..." You tried to find the right words, you couldn't believe what was happening, sewing buttons on your eyes? You wouldn't let that happen! "I don't want to... I'd better go to-"

Before you could continue speaking your body collided with Tim's, he was there behind you

"Why do you want to leave? You said you would stay with us..."

Tim said in a sinister tone, grabbing you tightly by the arms. You tried to get out of his grip but your strength was nothing compared to his.

"I didn't want to use force on you, (name), but you leave me no choice."

"What?"

Before you could say anything, you saw Bruce approaching you with the water and the buttons. You screamed, cried and kicked but nothing was enough.

Tim's grip was very strong and you could barely move.

They forced you to sit in the chair while Jason and Richard held you so you wouldn't move.

"Calm down, (name), it will only hurt a little."

Richard tried to calm you down but all you did was cry and scream for them to let you go.

It's too late to regret it now, but don't worry!

You don't have to worry about your old family anymore, now they will take care of you forever

Forget about everything, the only important thing is them and only them

_

Bruce was going crazy, he hadn't seen you for months

He wouldn't have even noticed that you disappeared if Alfred hadn't come to his office saying that you weren't at the mansion

He thought that you had simply left but after days without hearing from you he started to worry

He felt like the worst father and he knew that title suited him very well, he had ignored you for so long and now you were lost somewhere

The entire batfam was shocked, everyone felt bad about themselves for having ignored you and left you aside

Days passed and no one knew anything about you, it's as if your presence had disappeared from the earth

The only thing left of you were old photos and blurry memories in everyone's heads

But they was going to do everything possible to bring you back home, They made a lot of mistakes but they were going to fix them

Or maybe it was just an excuse to not feel so guilty

The clock keeps turning and time is running out, maybe when they find out everything it will be too late

Too late

I know I said I was going to upload other stories but in my defense...

I have no excuse, I just did it because I just saw Coraline and I was inspired🔥

Masterlist

Just a warning, everything is probably out of order + my first masterlist so PLEASE be patient with me

also my asks are open and appreciated !!

Bug Like Angel

P1 P2 P3 P4 P4.5 P4.5 P4.5 P4.5 P5 P6 P7 P8

Asks:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26

Show☆Time

P1 P2 P3 P4 P5 P6

asks:

1

FANART!!

☆

(03/05/25) — again &. again masterlist

by the bird and the bee

ft. platonic soft! yandere batfam! x gn! neglected reader

✮ MAIN MASTERLIST ✮

— TRIGGER WARNINGS !

- lowercase writing, emotional neglect, allusions to sexual assault, prostitution & physical abuse, kidnapping, alcohol abuse, drugging, themes of depression, dissociation, vague traumatic events, mentions of murder, amnesia, other warnings would be added soon.

— SYNOPSIS !

who would have thought that living with your rich, billionaire father and endless supply of sisters and brothers would actually end up being the worst thirteen and a half year of your life?

when your mother was taken away from you at the ripe age of five, you were forced to live at the solemn wayne manor with nobody to accompany you but the butler, alfred pennyworth.

there, you learn that giving up was better than trying to gain the attention of your ever-growing family. so you left, and never once tried to look back at the decades of neglect they left you with.

but when alfred, your kind caretaker, had started leaving clues of your sudden disappearance; that's when they all take notice and then on starts the ultimate race of chasing freedom, and escaping what once was your gilded cage.

little did you know your mother's dark past manifests itself at the worst of times.

— CHAPTERS ! ; 48k+ words

00. — oh, please leave me be.

01. — because you only notice me once i'm out the door.

02. — and you don't even remember my face?

03. — i need a drink, away from everyone.

04. — mors tua, vita mea / your death, my life.

05 : 01. — a halo in the pit of darkness.

05 : 02. — to be his child is all i want.

— DRABBLES ! ; #series: again &. again

dick grayson calling you his baby bird

why now? (yan! damian wayne)

brutus (villain au concept)

brutus: out for blood

what if you were never neglected?

just a taste (yan! conner kent - suggestive)

laughter is the best medicine (yan! dick grayson, jason todd, tim drake, damian wayne)

to you, my greatest passion (non-neglected au-verse)

brutus: both arms cradle you now

bruce finding your graduation picture

how to be a heartbreaker! (yandere harem)

mea culpa (mini chapter)

conflicting comfort scene with jason todd

dialogue spoilers related to above drabble

more about jason todd and hurt/comfort

dick and his baby blue eyes

time travel au concept

sharing the same features with damian

brutus: the only fucked up thing in this world is you

cause you're takin' it like a champ, sweetheart! (yan! conner kent - suggestive)

brutus: just a burning memory (yan! conner kent)

young, just us?! (yan! young justice au)

that's my type! (yan! john constantine)

dick's miley cyrus eyes

you shoving their neglect in their face and it backfiring

model reader concept

— ASKS ! ; #series: again &. again

dick's spiral into yandere-ism

leaving gotham, resenting alfred, changing last names

your mysterious identity &. conner being your love interest

dick seeing you as a child & damian's need to be your favorite

damian and his cool, matching bracelets

does dick close the door on you? nah, he doesn't even know you were behind the door

wally west as your love interest

you care now?

conner as your angry, protective bf

jason trying his damn best to be a brother to you

calling bruce by his last name only

calling alfred your dad ft. jealous bruce

how are damian and jason obsessed towards you

their nicknames for you

how bruce and damian would try to bond with you

will you still go to college after being kidnapped?

will the series have a happy ending?

why does damian hurt you? and why do you justify his actions?

the family stalks you even in-game

how tim is in the series

what are the characters' ages in the series?

what if you were hypersexual?

— INCORRECT QUOTES ! ; #a&a: incorrect quotes

yan! villains kidnapping you

hostage situation

how to become a target to the wayne family

dick and you miscommunication trope in a nutshell

— FANART ! ; #a&a: fanart

happy birthday by @luffyadolover

diary by @luffyadolover

another reason they're broke &. finished art by @oh-nowo-i-got-uwu

a take on the reader's appearance by @luffyadolover

reader trying to study ft. the batfam's endless calls &. finished art by @ghostdoodlen

reader finding bruce and damian watching a movie by @luffyadolover

again &. again mv by @luffyadolover

reader and their playlist by @luffyadolover

a comic panel by @lucioleestolie

conner and reader flying through the skies by @ghostdoodlen

when all of a sudden, i hear this agitating noise by @punpunsonny

villain au reader by @lazyemmy

a&a oc: emile by @questionthegrapevine

graduation pic, conner comfort, and mirrors by @ghostdoodlen

neglected &. non-neglected reader by @lazyemmy

jason calling you his angel by @ghostdoodlen

alfred gives you a christmas gift by @luffyadolover

my own art teehee by me

male reader interpretation by @yukiyee-akian

dick being clingy by @lazyemmy

brutus reader interpretation by @plkjnb

reader cosplaying as mabel pines by @mothintheskies

— TAGLIST ! ; taglist is under construction!

@.lilyalone, @.secretomelettetroops, @.earlqurl, @.simpingfor-wakasa, @.amber-content, @.ruiroku, @.okaybutfullhomo, @.trasshy-artist, @.obsessedwithromance, @.jjsmeowthie, @.fairy-lenaa, @.ilovvmyhusband, @.6uuyuuhgy, @.plsfckmedxddy, @.lavender-moony, @.sweetheart-era, @.chemicalsandghosts, @.darling006, @.starringyau, @.samanthahanes, @.rosecentury, @.jaythes1mp, @.pi1nkl0ver, @.i-thirsty-boy, @.sharks-are-cool-l, @.silverklaus, @.samanthathanes, @.traumaramacenter, @.maddimoon, @.anxrq, @.thedarknesslord, @.h0rr0r-10ver-69, @.lazy-idate, @.cupids-pretty-boy, @.alishii, @.mel-star636, @.sitepathos, @.freakyotaku059-blog, @.dirtydiavolo, @.sunbleachedantlers, @.24hrsoflanii, @.ceramic-raven, @.une-lueur-dans-la-nuit, @.tdickensstuff4, @.thickerthanthieves, @.arlandvery, @.distressed-lezbo, @.bunbunboysworld, @.bellethesleepypotato, @.naina326, @.nebuluma, @.alliwantisadonut, @.alishii, @.kusakiguzen, @.sirenetheblogger, @.emmbny, @.ryukyuin, @.solkara, @.starsdotalk

ch.5 pt 2: again &. again (platonic! yandere batfam x neglected! gn reader)

directory: preq, chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five pt 1, chapter five pt 2,

read under the end for an author's note.

tw: talks about death, prostitution, self-harm, trauma & ptsd, suicidal thoughts, and neglect.

the world was still spinning when you had awoken.

you didn't know if that was good or bad news alone. didn't even know what your current state could do now that you're in some room, subconsciously recalling between the gaps of memories that had caused you to be here.

lying down, with the painful throb of the holes within your body pinning you in place.

what happened?

breakdowns, booze, flirting, tears, comfort, gunshots, acceptance and death—

— lots of it.

all in the span of one night. one singular night which reigned in spilled blood and reopened wounds.

maybe you should've never made a stupid decision in the first place, the calculating, smarter, yet easily shut-down part of you scolds yourself. the events of the night were still fresh, enough to make both your heart and your head throb: were you finally sobering up, or does this ache come from a different type of pain, more painful, more heavily emotional than being met with death?

how long has it been since you were out? how long has it been since he saved you? since he...

the name tastes bitter in your tongue, it's been months, maybe even almost a year since you've last encountered him, let alone talked to him without being met with strained eye contact and cruel scoffs; a painful reminder of how your actions were what stuck the final nail in the coffin for your own neglect against the man, the brother you consider closest to you; despite it never being enough.

jason.

your last interaction was particularly unpleasant, an act of teenage hormones swelling in your very veins caused you to be spiteful towards him, ignoring his casual small talks in favor of refusing to offer your homemade treats and grabbing the jar of your favorite sweets - that you always meticulously and willingly give him whenever he'd make his rare visits - away from his prying hands.

you remember his offended tone, the sudden venom in his words as he asked, too mockingly for your own taste,  "what's wrong with you, angel? what's gotten you snappy these days?"

these days?

most days, it was you succumbing to his wants and needs. considering the treats he liked, the books he read, the movies he watched. all an effort painfully done if it meant having his eyes on you for just more than a second.

these days? just what had you done these days that warranted his offense? all you have done, all you ever did, was tag along everyone's tail, watching from the shadows, biting back the poisonous words, the tears that clung at the edge of your throat; ready to uncoil, to pounce the moment your envy unfurls even further.

these days? yeah right, these days, you just wanted to fucking die—

'cause highschool is shit, your life is shit, and you can't- just can't afford to play nice these days. not when they've all been so cruel, not when the people you look up to treat you lesser than the worms they step on when they spend time around the garden- your garden that you've carefully cultivated, all for your efforts to go to waste.

— but Jason won't understand, nobody could. not even alfred could comprehend just how worse your mood has soured. nobody's aware of just how close you are to your breaking point.

you glare at him for a second, wanting to retort, to swear at the sight of his knotted brows and frustrated pose, but the flicker of fight within you has just as quickly extinguished. your shoulders slumped, yet jason remains as rigid as ever in his seat, no amount of softness could be found in his expression, not even the softness he directs at you.

'he doesn't feel the same right now but—'

'there's no point in even trying anymore.'

ignoring the pang of regret in your chest, the urge to apologize with widened eyes, to pretend this was all a dream; you simply turned away in spite of the brimming tears, biting at your raw lips, to escape to another room.

afraid to show anymore weakness, afraid of the consequences, your hurried footsteps had echoed across the hallways.

you left the tooth-achingly sweet treats he originally intended to take by the table.

'he can have it for all i care.'

but are you sure you don't care? are you truly sure, when your chest spiked with frazzled haste just from hearing a familiar scoff - the one he directs to the people he despises - behind you? is it indifference when your hearing began to wring just to block out whatever vile words he spewed that day?

you want to apologize, you truly do, even if you're aware you're not much at fault, but rather him for being inconsiderate to your feelings, your foreign actions, he calls you his angel, but when his angel shows obvious hurt, he doesn't care?—

hah. but you just can't deal with it, with him any longer.

so you let it be, let him think you're just having your rebellious teenager phase, that you being a piece of shit in his eyes would pass eventually.

he wouldn't know, didn't even notice the bandages plastered across the expanse of your aching arms, the bags dipping below your eyes, or your frizzy, thinning hair.

with your last encounter, there was no more after that.

and if there were, you couldn't even call it that, for he was raging fire, and you a blistering snowstorm.

those were never meant to clash, let alone part.

thinking about it now, recalling what's gotten his mind on a twist, in your little, foreign mattress, with your eyes still shut close, lower abdomen still aching; it makes you want to die a little more at how much you never considered your feelings in the past.

you still don't right now - couldn't even make past your crippling self-esteem - but compared to last time, you at least maintained a flicker of dignity.

jason, meanwhile.

he- maybe he had a terrible day that day, you recalled his argument with bruce fresh on your mind that fateful afternoon. how tense and resounding the tension was in the room they'd fought. something over morals, over his still-burning need for justice by unfairly taking the lives of most criminals, bruce stated.

how it never quite changed, even until now.

it's the norm for all their little spats, the usual dynamic with their bated breaths and venomous words, their pitiful angst. how could you not remember, when it's dick who had to physically rip jason off from plunging a weapon on bruce's chin, whilst alfred's disappointed scolding hung in the air — whilst it's you watching in the corner, witnessing the entire scene unfold, useless when it comes to intervening because your words hold no impact for their dynamic?

maybe, just maybe, you could've been more considerate of his feelings when he'd blown bruce off, throwing him the finger before bursting off to the kitchen's pantry - to stressfully feast on the treats you carefully stored in, for moments like these, because he loves to thrash around the kitchen eating your baked sweets - to ruminate on his raging thoughts.

but if you could recall all the moments of his rage, how could he not recall his promise to bring you home some of your favorite dishes the night before that, then?

how could he not consider his so-called angel's feelings, when you had to adjust to his whims?

yeah, maybe you were boiling with rage that time too, not only due to the pressure of highschool, but at yet another broken promise. maybe you just wanted to hide away the tears, the looming expectations to act normal ultimately failing, which translated to your snappy behavior— but you thought:

'maybe, just maybe, my favorite brother, my closest confidant, could understand.'

you were wrong, you always were.

and for that, when you'd run crying to your room, another fresh scar was soldered in both your skin and your memories.

— a painful reminder of losing the closest thing you had in the world, just because you finally felt brave enough to show an inch of your closeted yet forbidden emotions.

your rebellion caused a permanent rift between your already drifting relationship, you despised yourself for that seemingly small, yet highly impactful mistake.

thinking about it now, in your crippled, nearly paralyzed state, makes you just want to forget.

— and remember the even more painful present.

finally, you compiled the strength to blink away the weight in your eyes. remnants of dry, salty tears were still fresh in the corners of your lids, throat parched, mind thrumming with dull pain and aching limbs— it reminded you of your unbidden nightmare just moment's ago; a stark contrast from its pleasantness compared to the damming reality you're actually in.

it felt like a fading memory, that dream, a looming freckled dust of air you couldn't quite catch in your stretched out fingers. how her gentle touch was like a cure to all your ailments, yet her hurried good-byes an eternal scar to the broken pieces of your heart.

oh, my momma.

how you miss her and her angelic presence already.

it never truly occurred to you how much the heavy weight of missing her stumped you from actually maturing. it was always her you mourn in moments of painful respite. her fading advices, her airy voice, her silent hums and warm presence. it was a whiplash to have her in such a wicked environment, in gotham of a places.

seeing her, in that cottage, in all her glory, wrinkles and aged, sagging skin surrounding the expanse of her angelic appearance. she was so young when she had you, and it was all you ever dreamed of— watching her gracefully age before you like fine wine, rather than those... those flashbacks of those bloodied tiles and the ichor dripping down her lifeless, icy lips.

damn be her reputation, she was your momma first, and prostitute, money laundering scam, second. thinking about her just makes you want to shut your eyes once more, return to that restless dream, and stay there forever.

rather than...

— your eyes switch to shuttering quickly, faded imagery still present in the fog of your vision. everything felt suspended in air except for the mechanical churn of the hanging fan on the ceiling, yet the furniture still present itself in shaped globs rather than actual three-dimensional objects. it took you nearly a minute to regain your sight, to finally hone in on your surroundings. albeit the haze and the adrenaline slowly pumping in your veins, your mind telling you to run despite the lack of sensation in your lower half, you slowly take in this...

this unfamiliar room...

a place displaying artillery, heavy weapons on the four corners of the walls, surrounding the dainty, one person cushion you lay on. there's an array of both fresh and bloodied gauze on the tabletop on your right, it seems to be used just recently, on you, probably. they're tightly wrapped on your lower half, you can see through the dark of your blankets and the feel of its restrictions on your guts.

strange how you're here, recalling the events of the night, yet it's still night now.

have you been out for an entire day?

and your phone and other essentials is on the same tabletop, you can even make out the table napkin containing conner's number still carefully tuckered behind your phone case. the faint waft of your favorite takeout caressed your nostrils, if not for the pain of having to carefully churn around the weighted blanket splayed on top of you; you might've sat up to dig in the savory meal.

but you can't focus on your hunger, not just yet. not when the dread overpowers your bodily urges, not when this entire thing feels like it's imitating a sense of normalcy; a room, reflecting the danger of the inhabitant living within, despite your foggy vision still, trying it's best to placate you into feeling safe.

but worse yet, the most dreaded of them all—

a room with your brother in it.

a room with the person you'd least want to deal with, not with just how much you haven't calmed down, how your final resolve was to avoid the very same people who'd always avoided you.

you couldn't possibly face them now, not ever.

not even the man you once came to call your favorite.

the holes in your body, now wrapped tight with gauze, throbs noisily, as if it senses the resounding doom wrapping around your heart, until it spreads across your entire body, now cold with caution. through your careful inspection of your belongings, through the noise of your frazzled thoughts, you haven't felt the dip on the bed you lay on. dim lights surrounded your vision afterall, the same ones still clearing up after hours of restless slumber.

and everything around you was unlike the specks of sun you were greeted with when you'd awoken from that dream.

dark and heavy.

your fingertips, your head, your injuries, the dip of the bed just now, his breathless haste; as if he waited for this moment, for you to slowly awaken, to return to consciousness.

an overbearing sense of desperation: his manic trance, the tusled locks of black and white hair, the faint shiver in his breathing.

and it's not as if you needed to second-guess the man now seated on the bed, he's so easily recognizable with his toughened form and muscles churning beneath his ashy jacket.

no, no, you want to close your eyes, pretend you're still asleep.

— but you can't, it's too late now that he noticed.

"... mornin', angel. you alright?"

he asks, silent and unsure, the question drifting off his tongue so gently, so hesitatingly as if he couldn't believe witnessing you breathing in front of him. warm yet burning with need for answers. and for a second, for a measly, quintessential span of time, you might've thought his raspy words were an aftermath of some tears.

he sounded so...

broken.

like a man torn from the inside out. the last you've seen of him, he'd already sported eyebags— but not too sunken, too tired like the current one you're staring at. like a washed out ember amidst winter, everything about him felt vulnerable...

it just makes you want to die on the inside— that- that you feel a semblance of care for someone who's hurt you far more than loved you.

the gentleness in his question, the hesitant stumble of his hands that came to bury itself into your tangled hair. the warmth that emits from his raggedy fingers hovering over the scalp of your head; it just made you feel fuzzy yet awful. the image of a brother and a stranger in front of you just blurs into a singular mess.

your vision spins, his hands are still awkwardly patting your head, as if urging you to speak, yet no reply escaped from your parched throat, from your dry, cracked lips. you fear whatever words might come next will just be a product of your impulsiveness— like the last time you met, like- like how you always fucked everything up, and you just did so the other night, and you're afraid of everything that might come after—

"i tried fixin' my apartment up just before you woke up... got us some takeout for dinner, too. it's your favorite..."

a hesitant smile, teethering on near gentleness that seemed impossible for a cruel man like him. jason looked almost like the brother you once knew as he coughs to himself, a poor attempt to wash away the awkward tension between you two. you're still silent between it all, not a single word mustered from your gaping mouth.

no.

your breath hitches—

your cold hands drive away his fingers entangled with your hair, shaky breaths make up the silent space between you two. he's not- not going to go about this way, would he? how could he?

no, this was not a moment to pretend. he saw you cry out there, under the moonlit night when the world was out for your life— you begged him, implied you'd rather die than let your savior be him.

you're hurt, everything still isn't fine between you two. not a single thread of softness will make up for the broken remnants of love he left you with. he can't act like the last time you met was a warm memory; not when it was filled with icy words and barely disguised contempt.

for a moment, you swore you could see a flash of heartbreak filling his stare. for a moment, you want to take your actions back like last time and become the younger you, but it's just for a moment.

these feelings don't last for a lifeline, not anymore.

"look, angel. i'm- you're not fine, still. it's the doctor's orders that you you need to eat, especially since you just got discharged and got all drunk on an empty stomach."

since when did he care?

ignoring him, your eyes dart elsewhere, ears purposely blocking out the meaning of his words, senses entangled with anything but his vulnerable stare. you look at the rickety fan barely blowing air on your messy hair, buzzing on top of dusty ceilings and shadowing dimly lit walls, at the spare armory scattered actoss the room - he could kill you with them, could end you with just a snap of his fingers - at the spider webs housing the corners of the apartment boxing you in with a man you dread meeting, let alone facing in a space you're far too unfamiliar with.

trapped and vulnerable; like a doe locked in place in a vast forest, surrounded by a pack of hungry wolves, ready to devour the closest thing in sight.

there may only be one you're dealing with now, but they're out there. dick and the others are out there with intentions to face you too.

and you don't know which part of you triggered this sudden desperation, this sudden link between you and your estranged siblings, but you hate it.

you hate this unfamiliar care. you hate the concern laced in every sentiment of jason's. it's unlike them, it's not them in your eyes.

and you hate how this resentment is overpowered by the shadowed by something more sinister, the one thing that dictated the course of your life—

one word: fear.

it wraps around your throat tighter than the bandages adorning your body. traps you in its clawing grip and molds itself in the form of your family.

fear of how to deal with their foreign worry, their questions lingering in the air with patience in its virtue rather than disdain. jason's unmasked face, thumbs softly massaging your unfeeling, cold fingers.

where you show a hitch of a breath, the widening of eyes, and the slightest of shivers. a hint of vulnerability, the softest of hiccups, the deep intakes of air—

instead of being met with a scoff, an offensive remark about your weakness, or a flick of worry immediately wearing away as dismissiveness takes place.

you're met with unfamiliar worry, the heavier dip of the bed, the splaying of bedsheets as jason's body moves closer to yours, the quick succession of movement as he takes off his jacket to loom over your- your shivering form.

just a little more, then your teary eyes meet its gaze on his crumpled jacket with its stench of cigarettes clinging in the air. your tired eyes shakily gaze at the layers of gauze wrapping your ever-bleeding body, and feel the ache nesting in its abode.

panic, unyielding; so much fear which rattles your bones and turns your muscles into useless jelly; which worries the perpetrator of these complicated emotions—

jason.

how do you pretend you're fine? how can you act so carelessly vulnerable in the domain of unknown territory; in a room, alone, but not quite?

it takes you back to when you were at your apartment, takes you back to when you try your damned best to ignore the sensation of panic and bile rising up your throat when you saw dick's messages. all in the span of less than a week.

your life is so fucked.

yet you choose to be inactive in facing these struggles, you choose not to run, or fight, but to ignore.

it's the only common symptom you share with your... your family.

just like now: anywhere but him.

you can't expend anymore hope—

"why, angel?"

confused, pleading, perhaps struck with grief. so unlike the man who scoffed at your lack of reply months ago. maybe he'd truly change, or maybe he felt pity at watching you nearly die before he could redeem himself.

it was his voice that cuts through the tension in the air. this time, he sounds like he's begging. for a second, your tired eyes run to him: him and his stupid worry. the nonchalant buzz in his words were no more, replaced by... betrayal.

for a second, you're reminded of your last meeting. the contrast of the cold past and now this burning sensation within your chest. then suddenly, everything hurts just a little more.

suddenly, you're back at the start. just the little kid looking for answers in a world too big for them. just the little kid who wanted to be good enough for their newfound family.

"for-for wh— what?"

god, even now the past still haunts you, the present crueler too. you and your stupid stuttering, your exposed and vulnerable aching heart that yearns for answers. why is jason hurt over seeing you hurt? why does he... care?

it's just so incomprehensible for you.

his worry is just too foreign.

under the pressure of his boiling gaze, which renders you useless and pinned in damp bedsheets, you simply feel bile rise up your throat. feel anything but comfort when both your eyes met. your teeth nibbles on your sore lips, and you find jason's wince, his almost tense fingers about to stop you from drawing out blood.

"you know what i mean." you don't. or rather, you don't want to know what he means. "why were you..."

'why am i out of the manor, right? in an unknown place in the middle of the night, drunk and alone? almost killed by my own stupidity? why? you know why, jason?'

you bite your lips, its raw, peeling skin opens up old scars anyways, and it bleeds like your raging heart.

'—it's because of you and all the others.'

you don't want to explain how they're the reason for all your burdens. how his sudden presence in that fucking alleyway caused more distress than nearly dying. why you're out in public wasting away at your life, avoiding anything that you can associate with them because, just because you're always hurting.

you don't want to be reminded of the past anymore. you never expected to be in one of your sibling's damn apartment, being interrogated, almost scolded for your impulsive decisions and forced to listen to his sickly bitter worries over your health as if he actually cared for you.

sweat ran down your bobbed throat. your tongue, your lips and your skin felt damp yet dry. cold and crisp air was a commodity, everything felt blazing hot under jason's expectant stare.

an uncomfortable heat, almost burning you, turning your bones to ashes and organs to dust.

"just—" his presence almost felt ghastly, fingers hovering over your downturned chin to softly tilt it up. your eyes felt blurry, and the world felt so... just so cruel when his other hands made its way to wipe away your damp cheeks.

were you... crying?

"just answer me, please."

jason todd, no, the red hood doesn't beg. he doesn't plead. the infamous crime lord doesn't gently swipe your sweaty hair to the side so it doesn't disrupt your already blurry vision. he hurts others, cuts their skin and veins, shoots their bones, rips their limbs one by one, tortures them until all they could beg for is the sweet release of death—

but he doesn't just care for somebody easily, right? he shouldn't burden himself with your own personal issues. he never has done so, only coming to you for casual talk.

what changed?

"i—" you gulp, but the lump in your throat remains everlasting. do you tell him of your worries? do you even trust him? can you even trust him?

"i don't know..."

'i don't know, jason... i'd rather not let you know anymore than you should have.'

"i-it's fine... don't worry about it." you added to your pile of excusing, shrinking in on yourself when his eyes squint at your words.

small. you feel like an ant taking in everything that felt particularly enormous against you. jason's body blocking out the city's skyline and the moon's watchful glow made everything dimmer, made it feel like your only choice was to go through him.

it doesn't help that it feels like every word you mutter, every breath you take, feels like a daunting action devoured by the inner workings of his mind.

why should you worry? jason never— he never truly cared this much.

whether you lie or not wouldn't change the outcome. just a little slip up and he'll leave you alone once more. just a few more minutes and he'll eventually give up, right?

so why are you nervous? why are your fingers picking at the skin of your palms? why do the tears just keep leaking like a faulty pipe? why is he— why can't he just stop staring at you—?

"you're lying."

"h—huh?"

"you're lying and it's obvious, angel."

he reiterates, this time, the tremor in his voice reaches the depths of the ocean. and just like an ocean, you feel yourself drowning in the pressure of his answers. you feel the heaviness of his words, feel it pinning you in place and locking your joints, until all you could hear are his paced breathing and the subtle agitation in his voice.

"wh—"

"why? why were you out alone, huh? what were you doing all alone at night? alfred wasn't even with you— you're drunk out of your mind, you're not even old enough to drink, angel. you weren't with- with anybody by the time i reached you— so why... just why?" this time, he demands. even if his questions were mere whispers against the blaring sounds of traffic from below; it still reaches out and buries itself into your skin, tickles the inside of your ears and nips at delicate skin.

until all you could focus on were his questions.

why?

'isn't it obvious, brother? or do you still see me as a little child?'

"when's my birthday, jason?"

it doesn't take much to know when you've turned the course of the tides to side with you. it doesn't take much to watch jason stumble between befuddled thoughts until he crosses a hurdle he couldn't jump through.

'it shouldn't be a surprise to you, jay. i thought you truly changed.'

nobody... nobody except alfred knew when you were born. not even your closest brother, no. you almost genuinely convinced yourself he cared, but the delusion quickly breaks when you find him wide-eyed as the thoughts churn in his head.

"what...?"

if he truly cared, then he should've known, right?

"—you... i'll answer you if you answer me back. when's my birthday?"

you call him out in that sickly, sweet nickname. it was what that past you called him. it's the same verse you chirp over and over again just to gain a traction of his attention when you feel his eyes drift over the book he's read rather than on you. the name you oh-so carefully drawl out so that he doesn't drift to sleep just so you'll be given temporary respite from the loneliness, so he could rest his fingers on your scalp and promptly hug you from the side.

it feels so foreign on your tongue now, after all, you haven't spoken to him in months.

the last note you left each other with was pure bitterness.

it feels even more strange that you realized how you know all their birthdays, but they never knew yours.

never knew it passed by so quickly under their radar. how you're free from the shackles of their ownership over your name. he doesn't... doesn't even know you're not a wayne now, no?

"do you even know how old i am now?"

"it's... you know, shit—!" he mutters under his breath. it's like he just realized how much he doesn't... couldn't even remember a crucial detail of you when it's you who knows all his favorite books, his favorite author, how his comfort snacks are different for every feeling he feels; hell, even his preferred places to smoke.

yet he doesn't even remember your birthday? couldn't even recall a single moment where you blew out a candle? in all the moments he visited, spending nights with you under the moonlight or through the shine of the library's chandelier; he never even thought of giving you a present, let alone wonder why how within those years of knowing you— jason couldn't even remember the most important occasion of your life?

he bites his lips, and this time, it's him who buries the tips of his fingers on the hastily crumpled bedsheets.

if he calls himself your brother, who thinks he has the right to worry over you, then is a brother someone who couldn't remember your birthday?

now that his eyes aren't on you, you're spared a moment to take him in through the hastening of your heart and the neverending rivulets of tears escaping your blurry gaze.

'ignore the pain, (name). you shouldn't be hurt anymore. you shouldn't feel surprised that he doesn't even know when you were fucking born."

but you can't bear the thought of him stumbling through his words, formulating excuses he knows you know you could easily reject. it just makes everything hurt even more, makes the endless ache in your heart thrum at the implications that this person— his worries were nothing when he has nothing, no care in the past to bare to you now.

"i'm eighteen now, jay..." his eyes quickly flit up to stare at you, mouth agape at the newfound information. what's the use in being shocked now? when all your other birthdays were dismissed and breezed by like a normal day for them— for your family?

and yet you know the answers to your very own questions.

eighteen is a quintessential part of someone's life.

it marks the path of adolescence, the descent to maturity as you learn to grow, to make your own decisions. some children move out of their parent's home to build a nest of their own, they find jobs, maybe even a partner to make or break a life with. people in america who turn 18 are still restricted from drinking, but most still choose to break some laws, fuck up with their decision, get shit-faced and party off with some fraternities and friends who'll turn their backs on you; and then regret it all later.

they build their lives, they go through ups and downs, and slowly bring themself back up again. there's no more gentle approaches, no more excuses for a developing mind. they go through so much in just a year.

and the most important of it all, is that most graduate.

and they weren't there for you, nobody was, save for alfred.

bruce wasn't there when you graduated, so it's no surprise that jason, or even the others, wouldn't come.

jason's still a dead man in the public's eyes, after all.

and even if he wasn't, what would've guaranteed that he'll still come to watch you walk up that stage? what would've changed, when the weight of your graduation and the future to come was thwarted by their worries over damian's? it was always him they— bruce prioritized, when he'd first enter the manor, all eyes were on the brazen boy.

when you first entered the manor, it was a rainy, desolate day. bruce was busy, of course he was, why wouldn't he be when he drowns himself in paperwork to distract the horrid reminders that his second son had passed?

and you don't know what hurts even more, the heartbreak in his stare, or the thumps in your heart that felt like footsteps stepping on the beating organ until all its blood is drained?

"shit, angel. i never knew... i'm— you're eighteen now and i didn't even know? fuck, how could i have forgotten it—"

"just, please save your excuses, jason..."

it's like he couldn't even believe you were old enough now, mature enough to comprehend how his excuses don't mean shit if his lack of knowledge towards your birthday ran on for years.

your sniffles weren't as silent as your words, it hurts, everything felt like fire. the world wants you to burn as your body felt like betrayal, your vulnerabilities stripped bare in front of him.

"i... appreciate your concern, but," it hurts to lie under your breath, hurts to hesitate, let alone voice out what you truly feel. it hurts to wonder why you're unsure if what he felt for you was worry, or just mere guilt over the situation you're both in.

the lines between all your emotions were blurred, you don't even wait to see his expressions anymore. you fear you'll revert back to the younger you, who considers the others before yourself, even when you've disillusioned yourself countless of times that you've changed.

you did, didn't you?

"you don't— you have no excuse to patronize my health when... when i know my limits and..."

"—i have to go, jason..."

barely a whisper. your words were barely a whisper, like the haste of thunder striking through metal rods though without sound, without thought, without hesitation; before your hands suddenly push all your weight to straighten your slumped form. your legs, which felt like blazing jelly, made an attempt to stand despite the burning sensation. you don't offer jason a second to register what you were doing, don't even let him see how your stomach bent enough to nearly reopen wounds—

god, fuck—!

it hurts, it fucking hurts so much.

your heart, your head, your entire body.

one second, you stumble, the gravity of your body fighting against the blistering, aching pain which shoots through your veins. all in one second, seering in your abdomen, like fingers digging deep into your injuries, twisting and churning until all you could feel is pain so absolutely revolting, so mercilessly cripping in your lower abdomen, that it seizes you useless, so utterly unable to capture your balance in the midst of standing, that your legs quickly give out on you.

then another second passes like a beat, all too quickly, yet all too slow for you as the world spins in your darkening vision, all the blood from your head rushing to where the holes lay in haste. your heart thumps like a drum in a warfield, like boots splattering on wed mud, sporadic, in near panic.

another second, the third, and just as you're about to stumble down, the pain so much that your eyes shoot out salty, ignorant tears. just as your body is close to thumping, writhing on the floor, jason catches you in his arms, grip so tight it almost felt like he'd refuse to let go. like how it was back in that shitty alleyway, like how it was, you felt trapped, trapped and forced to feel his sweating muscles churning mechanically, taut and tense through his thin sweatshirt.

close enough to feel that same, raggedy panic — the hitch of a breath, the loud thrumming in your chest, adrenaline shooting into your senses, your mind registers jason as a token of danger— emerging as your elbows make way to hit him square in ribs, only for his quicker, stronger palms instinctively stop you, his larger body locking you up in place, stabilizing you as you feel like you're hovering, suspended in thin, nearly charged air.

he's— he's carrying you, left hand respectfully gripping below your thighs, the other palm resting on your backside. it still hurts, everything does, nothing about you screams okay, only the slight subsidizing of pain as your brother, no, jason carefully puts you back down to sit on the bed, like you're weightless and made of feathers and— and vulnerable with how much gentleness he placates on instinctively hushing you, like a brother would to their injured sibling after a rough hour of playing in a sandbox of a playground.

the tears still won't stop.

through your quivering hiccups, high-pitched whines escaping the back of your throat at every subtle movement, at the thoughts that drown you the more time passes by— it hurts, it hurts so much you'd rather die, you'd rather be anywhere than here. does he know that, does he know the pain of looking at him, feeling him so close like never before is why you're so desparate to leave? does he know your heart beats erratically because you can never forget the moment you last met—?

— you don't even see, let alone feel the anger brewing off his chest, at the sudden, venomous words which escape his mouth next, like chains rattling, acidic bile brewing in a hot cauldron, nearly combusting at the seams.

you don't know that you pain him, don't know that you're his weakness.

and it especially hurts him when you refuse to look him eye-to-eye, refuse to see the tears rooting at the edge of his eyelids, at his teeth grazing his teeth until blood draws out in a steady flow, the opposite of the panic resurfacing into his body as he watches your dazed, breathless form trying to recover from what happened.

wordless. he despises that. how it's like your body repels him, head dodging his lips that hint at kissing your forehead. how you hesitatingly allow him to massage and help straighten the taut muscles of your bent legs— how you remain silent all throughout like you didn't just- just fucking attempt to stand, almost killing yourself despite his warnings.

he despises your not-so subtle avoidance that he just couldn't control it, couldn't control the burning rage brewing inside his heart that he just— just screams at you before he could compose himself.

"— fuck angel, FUCK! just what the fuck were you thinking?!"

jason wasn't always known for anger, he wasn't always the spiteful man everyone makes him out to be. he was sweet towards you because he knew you were innocent in the midst of batman's schemes, so it's no joke, no fucking joke how much he scares you off right now.

it scares you watching him fight others off, scared you when he shot those bullets at the man pinning you down, but you had a semblance of reassurance that it was never directed at you.

until now.

and now that you remain the spectacle of his anger, the sight of his widened, blown out eyes, his furrowed brows and clenched fists — you're so afraid, so fucking afraid he'll end up hurting you like damian, yet conscious of his actions. he looks like a painted demon before you, with clenched teeth and frazzled hair, and you feel like a dear caught in headlights — you feel another surge of tears, another wave of nausea drowning out his voice as your throat closes in on itself.

'stop, jason, please stop. you're scaring me.'

but you couldn't say the words out loud, couldn't even compose your body from quivering, fingers clenching the bedsheets in sudden instinct so hard it crumples on itself; as if it could help ground you, as if it could control the next, hurtful and loud words surging from his mouth.

as if it could cease time just so you wouldn't bear witness to his scary, monstrous rage.

"can't you see what you just did?! don't you know how— how fucking stupid and dangerous that was of you to just stand when you're still obviously HURT!? if you wanted to, you should've told me first instead of just suddenly pushing me away. what's wrong with you, huh?! what possessed you to just— JUST STAND UP AND LEAVE?!"

it's like he couldn't believe you. couldn't even make reasons why you did what you've just done. not even a tinge of comedic effect, not even any comfort laced in any word. not the jason you knew and loved, but a stranger whom you learned to call a friend, a brother that never was.

that's all he ever is, a stranger. all of them, living under the same roof as you.

and he was the same stranger who nearly fought you if not for you leaving that kitchen.

— it was the same old scoff he gave you all those months ago after talking, the same old squinted eyes and generous rage. yet this time it's enhanced with something else, something more personal, something way scarier than just being a spectator.

you always wanted to revolve around his life, but never this way.

it hurts, doesn't he know that?

doesn't he know how much his words just hurt you more than the dull ache in your abdomen? can't he see it too? how you're backing away to the corner of the bed until your back hits the headboard, despite all the pain spreading throughout your body?

if- if he cares so much about you, shouldn't he have known that— that you're sensitive to everything he just said?

bile rises up from your empty stomach, and the tears that keep surging out your eyes refuse to stop; yet it's your words run faster than your thoughts. then suddenly, all too suddenly, everything just snaps.

suddenly, your consideration for him doesn't matter anymore.

not when you never mattered to him, right?

and it feels like a part of you broke tonight.

"... what's up with you, angel?! answer me! first you're drunk off your mind when i find you out in the alleyway, bleedin' to near death, and when i try to help you before it's too late, you come begging me to not take you to the manor. did somethin' happen, huh?! why in the name of lord are you rebelling all of a sudden?! why are you fucking—"

"BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT MY DAMN SIBLING ANYMORE, JASON!"

it just won't stop. the pain and the tears and all the words spilling from you won't stop and everything- shit, everything is spinning but you can't stop now.

it hurts. saying those eight words hurt, but it's the truth.

and the truth fucking hurts. what right should he have worrying over you? what right does he have to criticize your life now when he's only been there for you when he needs it?

"IT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS ANYMORE JASON! STOP— STOP PRETENDING LIKE YOU CARE—!"

fists clench at the bedsheets bring itself up to tangle upon your matted hair, and you pull and tug and rip off the strands, biting your lips to quell the anger, the pain shooting across your scalp, your fingers stinging with every snap of the strands. shivering and trapped, and useless in fighting back; why are you like this? why does he keep watching?

you close your eyes. for what? so that all you could hear are your ragged breaths, the only thing you can hear every time you'd have reoccurring nightmares? so that you could return to that lonely child, to the lonely teenager you once were?

the lonely, scared child you still are?

'since when have you ever cared, jason? since when? since when has anybody ever cared?'

your voice trembles at the ends, you can't afford to look at him, burying yourself deeper into the mattress as if that alone can melt you until you were nothing, just so you wouldn't have to deal with this neverending heartbreak.

"stop... just please—" you bite your lips, but it does nothing to quell the overwhelming panic, the spiralling thoughts, the blazing emotions. your knees are pressed against your chest, fingers now scratching at your heated face.

until it bleeds, until it all bleeds.

you open your eyes, an array of tears come bursting off your sore eyelids, your cheeks feel considerably swollen, yet you just can't stop fucking crying. it worsens even more when your wobbly vision turn to look up at him, at his unbelievable stare, at his widened, ocean blue orbs, dull and almost unforgiving.

'this isn't the jason i knew.'

"just why, (name)? why?"  hearing your name roll off his tongue, instead of your usual nickname hurts, hearing it with such rage, contempt, like he's directing his hatred at you for something you couldn't control— god, it hurts.

"what do you mean by all this? i'm- i'm still your damn brother—" he says, as if it's a matter of fact, as if nothing between you changed the last day you saw him, as if he didn't know the reason. if he was your brother, then why does he sound so diffident, then?

why does his voice tremble? why does his care taste foreign against your tongue? why does he stand there, as if hesitant to even approach you?

"and because i am your brother... i have every right to care for you now—"

"i was never important then... so why do i matter now?"

"— what?"

"why do i matter so much now than before? how come i never deserved your care before?"

"angel, please. what the hell are you talking about—"

"JUST FUCKING ANSWER MY QUESTION, GODDAMNIT!"

all that you were, all that you ever are, was just a distraction for jason to bide his time with, weren't you? all he knew about you was that you acted as his entertainment, a quiet little kid who listens more than they ever learned to speak, who purposely read all the archived books in the manor's library, waiting every month for their favorite brother to visit. even if it was just for minutes, even if he'd leave you right after, escaping your boring rambles, because of course he'd prefer the fucking batcave over your silent, expectant, always yearning eyes.

all you ever wanted, all you ever did, was just be.

do what you thought they wanted you to be, not what you wanted yourself to be. baking because you knew they loved to raid the fridge for snacks after missions, drawing because your mother always praised your messy sketches, even if it was nothing compared to damian's now, dancing, ballet, gymnastics— going as far as trying to learn how to fight, giving up halfway through because you'll never progress with just how much you're juggling other extracurricular activities.

all that, just to be what you wanted to be for them.

even if it was never enough, even if your rare a plus', the occasional gold medals, the praise and acknowledgement from your teachers, even alfred's suggestion for bruce to just, please, take his time of the day to talk to you— all those achievements shine dully compared to your other siblings.

and you've long since accepted that it was all that you ever were. just a mere tool, ever-so-useful, yet ever-so-forgotten by all the other convenient ones.

all that you are, all that you ever were. but all that you ever wished for, was to be his child, their sibling.

but that was never possible, you've accepted that. you branched off, left and never came to look back because you knew you'll just be trudging another path of pain.

...

so why, why does he care so much now?

why, for the first time in your entire life, does it pain you more than it comforts you that he finally called himself your brother?

why, just now, does he say it to your face, when he never once did so all those years ago?

why does he pretend to be so shocked in front of you, wide-eyed and frozen, relinquished in guilt? why does he stand there, breathing, trying to compose himself as if your words ever held any weight on his chest? why can't he just understand, why can't he just let you go as easily now?

why do you still cry after all these years?

why do you still pretend that none of these... these issues mattered anymore in your heart?

why do your fingers still forcefully pierce into the mattress, grounding yourself to reality? why can't you rip your eyes away from jason?

why does his care break your heart more than it does fixing it?

you've always wanted this, didn't you? you've always wanted to be finally acknowledged, yet it still hurts. your throat still closes in on itself, like fingers clawing and constricting your airways, your breathing like jet missiles vaporizing mid air.

and yet all the pain, all the yearning and destesting for a love so passionate were still overpowered by the senseless need for answers.

'jason, why do you still try?'

"angel, calm down you're—"

on the verge of a panic attack? hands suddenly beating at your chest, tears neverending still streaking your sore cheeks and bitten, bloodied lips?

his hands reach out to grab yours, yet you slap his palms away, ignore the stinging sensation that came after; and back away to a corner. like a reckless animal, like the same young child hiding behind closet doors, biting back tears yet desperately failing.

you're both at your breaking points, you both refuse to back down this stupid game of cat and mouse.

"just calm down, please—!"

"NO, I WON'T— you don't fucking understand it, jason!

— i don't need your help, or anyone else's anymore! you have never been there for me! never been there for all the times i suffered because of your death! so don't even try to make a difference now!"

before he could even refute, before he could shout and cause another wave of panic, before he could break you even further—

"... so why do you care now?"

you couldn't even face him, too afraid to see his reactions churning. he shakily breaths, fog encapsulates the air around his parched lips. and you're reminded that it's almost winter, that your heater in your apartment is broken, that you'll be freezing underneath your thin blankets, eating off cold meals— that it's another one of those months where you're reminded of the privilege you've both lost and gained after leaving the manor.

you've lost your last connection to jason, so you thought, yet he's here in front of you now. he's here, and rather than wanting him to be here, you'd wish it was a dream instead.

you wished he never cared, for his next words stabbed you more than it did made you feel cared.

"i care, (name). because you were drunk when i got you, you were impulsively provoking the same guys who nearly killed you. because what? it's easier to escape that way?. i care because you've done something stupid, you nearly died because of your recklessness! my younger sibling did something stupid and it's my responsibility to worry over you, worry over your overdramatics! you're still fucking eighteen and you're already wasting away your life—!"

"that's why i fucking care for you, because you're my burden alone and nothing changes that!"

what...?

overdramatic? impulsive and reckless? is he serious? is that all you ever were to him? he cares because he thinks you're still that stupid, innocent child chasing after him? is that what you are? is that all you ever amounted to him after all the times you spent sleepless nights reading the books he recommended you? all the hours burning your fingers just to perfect his favorite lunch?

just that?

just a burden?

and he just stands there, so cruelly imposing, hands crossed like he's right and you're not. tears equally streak his ragged face, dripping all the way down his sharp jaws and wobbly chin. but his brows are furrowed, eyes still squinted at your body, weaker than his.

like all he feels is rage towards you, like everything's your fault.

while you're just sitting in his bed, limp and utterly unable to stand without his guidance.

and you hate this, hate being reminded that just like last time, you used to depend on him alone.

"how dare you, jason? we... i've always been so good to you... i've always done what you always wanted, i—"

this time your heart aches differently. it's not the subtle panic stinging your beating organ, not even regret shrouding your thoughts. but a painful, stabbing pain; slow and cold. your nose is clogged, your teeth rigidly grinding, the ball of your joints feel like they're pressing deeply on each other— everything just hurts.

his words feel like a knife slowly twisting inside your guts. not even the salty, warm tears feel worth crying out anymore.

it's just silent understanding, a painful acceptance.

of your pain and all those wasted summers and lonely winters.

your hands grip the headboard as you shift your weight to the uninjured side of your abdomen. you glare at him when he almost hurriedly attempts to help you, but through silent puffs of effort under your breath, you're already standing, right hand gripping nothing on the wall as you lean on it.

it still hurts, god, the burning sensation won't boil down at all.

— but you want to face him, head-to-head. you want him to face his burden. if he wants to understand you, if you want to understand him— there's no use hiding behind a semblance of comfort.

because more than anything, you just wanted a family. you just wanted to be part of their family.

yet now you've come to realize that maybe you were just a burden all along.

"it's- it's so unfair..."

your voice cracks at the seams, but there's no use composing yourself anymore. no use in trying to look decent in his eyes when all you ever were was a problem to him, to everyone else, right?

"out of all the times i nearly got killed, jason... you decided to save me by the time i accepted my death...?"

maybe your mother would've sided with jason, only for the part that she wanted you safe and sound rather than dead. but she's dead now, you wanted to be dead because it meant you'll finally have her at your side.

and it feels so cruel to be stripped away from that honor, that merciful gift of life, from the very same brother whose death caused you more turmoil than anything.

"—this isn't the first fucking time this happened to me, jason, and it wouldn't be the last."

your voice was barely a whisper, barely a recognizable tremor, but it speaks volumes of your desperation, of what could've been if he didn't intervene. of what wouldn't change despite it all.

you'll still be dead afterall. this is gotham where you're living. and you're not a priority to the vigilantes, not anybody important to the family.

even if his expression shifted to shock, even if you find an ounce of softness throughout the exterior of his fragile agitation; is it not true?

he takes a step forward, but your hands shoot out to put distance between you two. even if it pains you to see the confused heartbreak in his eyes at your refusal, you don't want him any closer, you fear you'll submit to his whims if you do.

you can taste blood in your tongue, but you swallow it all like you're swallowing all the bitterness you feel, you drown this ache in your heart, replace it with temporary assurances that this will all end, that jason's stubborn attempts of placating you is just another attempt to draw you closer, only to push you away in the end.

... and yet he's still trying even after what felt like minutes, maybe hours, stretching between you two.

jason still keeps trying, while you're close to giving up.

"why are you like this, angel? what happened between you and bruce? did he hurt you—"

"nothing happened—" you're lying, but not quite so. you're lying but it's not a lie when you mean nothing, literally nothing, happened between you and your father. that's the worse of it all, you and bruce never had a moment together, never had any memories to cherish nor times where he comforted you through the trauma of it all.

that painful reminder just makes past emotions stir within you.

of those cold nights, the barren hallways and alfred's countless excuses for bruce's absences.

"i have my personal reasons, jason." you seethe through your teeth. it hurts to admit your feelings to him, hurts that your drying tears are still overlayed by a resurgence of new ones. "it involves you guys... you and the others; but it's nothing now. it doesn't matter now and you know it..."

"... no i don't, angel. and no, it's not nothing. because if it was, then what's all of this for? what do you want from him, from me? that caused you to act this way...? to act so selfishly, trying to rebel like us when you've always been a good kid, huh? god, (name), if you just wanted his attention, to be his favorite—"

"— then there's so much better ways, angel. than being like this... being someone that isn't you."

he truly never knew you well at all, huh?

considering everything that happened tonight, you thought he did, but fuck...

hearing all those assumptions come straight from him just destroys you inside out.

"jason... please listen to me."

cutting him off, it's both an act done to just stop him from rambling any further, stops you from just— just irrationally ripping your ears apart so you wouldn't have to hear it anymore; hear all those disillusioned excuses, those painful words ripping you apart at the seams.

he looks at you, at your weak hold against the edge of the bedframe, at the hushed, shivering breathing, at your downcast, almost resigned eyes. you don't reciprocate his worried gaze, you just... don't.

"i don't want to be his favorite... i never wanted to be— fuck!"

"why do you assume all this, jason?" you faintly glared at him, but that flicker of the fight blew off, and you returned, looking at your feet, speaking through your beating heart, your irrational thoughts of shutting down, if not for the faint stench of smoke grounding you, if just by a fraction.

"i never wanted to be an athlete like dick, or as academically talented like you, or some crazed detective like tim, or as skilled as an assassin like damian! i don't even have the determination steph has or barbara's perseverance to continue fighting alongside all of you! i can't even reach cassandra's level of fighting, and i certainly don't have powers like duke!"

there it is again: the envy, the spite, and the undertone of yearning in your words. maybe jason was right, maybe you're still the young, good kid afterall. but good kids still do bad things, good kids can still feel and fuck, you feel a plethora of negativity mentioning all their positive traits, while you have none.

you have nothing, not even a small merit to offer.

"— all of you guys are so fucking talented, and here i am, so pathetic for thinking i can reach the same level as you all when i can't!"

the medals are useless compared to damian's success in topping the entire gotham university. the certificates for placing indancing competition were none the more important than cassandra's ballet recitals. your research projects that you've spent nights crying on, was it all that relevant when tim always one-ups you within just a day of data-gathering?

so what makes you special, what makes jason think you'd even try to be bruce's favorite in the first place, when you're absolutely useless?

"—so i just can't, jason! how could i have the damn audacity to desire being bruce's priority when each and every one of you are beyond my level?!"

untouched breakfast, thrown away lunch, cold dinners. thrashed out backpack, unsharpened pencils, inkless pens, wornout diaries, bandaged arms and sleepless nights. your life was a cycle of constant wanting, of constant attempts to earn your place. even if there were moments some of them looked at you in pity, it was never enough to warrant their comforting words or even just a pat in the back.

the last time dick has ever looked at you was the first time you met.

and in those moments where you wish you were as forgettable to damian as you were to others, he'll remember to always remind you of your place.

maybe you were like them, in ways where you're always trying but never enough. in ways where their attention on you was never enough too. you need something from them, they needed something else from you too.

"angel..." you don't have to look up to know the air has changed. that wretched nicnkame plastered itself back into his mouth. this time, he said it softer, like he's come to a realization, like it was enough to draw you out of the caverns of isolation you've kept yourself in.

but before he could speak again, before you'd get lost in those memories of the past—

"i never wanted to be bruce's favorite, jason..."

"i just..."

your eyes soften, as tears begin to spring from your eyes, red and swollen, and you let them. you look down at your unclenched hands through blurry vision, and find indents of crescents present on raw, battered skin— and it's enough to make you remember your childhood, enough to deepen the heavy weight of conflict drowning your heart.

when you look up to jason again, you bite your quivering lips, just to silence the ugly wail brewing from your chest. he looks at you, as equally befuddled, as heartbroken.

"... i just wanted to be his child." the sentence comes out your lips, so silent, so broken and lightly pitched. it speaks volumes of wanting, of yearning, of years begging for even a sliver of love offered on your way. it felt like it was the younger you speaking to him, begging him to fucking understand how it was never about just wanting attention—

it was about wanting to just have a family. people who should've loved you, saw you through the veil of your reputation, yet chose to love you still.

because they're family, they're your family. and all that mattered to you was family.

how hard was it to understand that sentiment?

"i just want to be loved because i'm his child, not a charity case, or because he's doing this for my mother..."

you remembered those nosy paparazzi's stalking you even in elementary. they ask you how it's like being adopted by the bruce wayne, how it's like living a life most orphaned children dreamt of living; how lucky you must be, having a mother who's come to share a bed with him, that your life must be so full of luxury because bruce took pity on you and your poor, whore of a mother, right?

they didn't know it was alfred, the estate's butler, who'd suggested adopting you. and with a flick of bruce's wrist, a slight furrow of his brows and a dismissed thought of you, you were brought in the manor.

it was never bruce who considered you, maybe the paparazzi and journalists slowly came to realize that after discovering your father is nowhere to be seen beside your side. maybe that's why they slowly dissipated away from you year by year, leaving you as lonely as ever.

'and now,' you thought, 'bruce still doesn't care for me at all.'

that hurts.

"i just want to be selfish for once... i want to see him the same way he looks at you back then, every damn time he stares at your grave, while i watch by the fucking windows, wishing it was me he looked at."

despite never meeting jason from back when he was robin, you mourned for him too, you prayed for his soul the same way you prayed for your mother's. it helped you disillusion yourself to believe you mattered, sitting beside his grave by the gardens despite the rain pouring downcast and staining your clothes. it helped you think you were becoming closer to bruce.

"i wanted him to look at me jason! think of me as someone as important as you, even just a semblance of it...!"

you tried so hard to imitate them all. dick's athleticism, cass' elegance, tim and barbara's elite-level knowledge on the digital world, duke's cunningness when it comes to puzzles, damian's strategies and steph's awe-inspiring rebellion paired with sarcasm. you try to emulate it all, waking up early every day, schedule packed with activities in each corner of the manor just so you'd have a chance of finding bruce in the same room as you; but it just never was enough.

"god, i don't even want him to see me as a priority, i don't want him to see me and think that i'm the best damn thing in the world. i know i'm not, jay. i'm not perfect, not even half as good. but i just want him to stare and think, 'this is my child,' without any second thoughts, without any regards for my dirty fucking past."

there was one moment in your life where you almost despised your mother. almost. you blamed her for birthing you, for having you as her child, for bestowing you this curse of being unloved, as only being acknowledged as the woman who stole from others: a bitch, a prostitute who got pregnant too early, a lady with a sullen reputation bleeding into the present of her child.

you nearly hated her, you wish you never did. she was your only light, the memories of her was what kept you alive, and you dim that light off, purposely try to blow off the shining embers that gleam for you just because you wanted the love and attention from a family that was never yours.

and you nearly worked yourself to death because of it.

"jason, i just wanted to... to go through the normal things a father does with his child. i wanted him to love me, even just for the tiniest bit. is that hard enough to fulfill? am i just too high maintenance for him that he can't— can't even deal with me after you died? tell me, jason—

"—am i just the burden of an aftermath?!"

a small of you nearly excused bruce's neglect for his mourning of jason. but that mourning extended even after his resurrection. and slowly, the more the members of the family piled up, you figured it all out.

it was you that's unlovable.

and no matter what, you could never truly accept that fact.

not even as you cry out your woes to jason, not even as your voice cracks and breaks at every syllable, at every spilled word tinged with bitterness, with pain so deep it cuts through your already bleeding heart.

"i just- just wanted to be part of the family. i just wanted to eat takeout with you that day- wanted to forget you fought bruce— forget everythin' just to bond with you 'cause you never gave me enough time in your already busy day. so why can't i? why can't i have the things everyone else had? is it too entitled of me to say that i just wanted your love? am i too demanding if i just wanted a family?!"

"is it so hard to love me?"

"tell me, jason! just, fucking tell me, please..."

your fingers' grip on the edge of the headboard nearly slipped, your sniffles were unbearably loud, a reflection of the thrumming beats of your heart nearly escaping out your chest in the form of shrieking sobs.

he finally speaks, unsure. he still stands in his place, but you're crying too much to even care.

"no, no of course not. it's not... you're not..."

"i'm not what, jason? not your sibling, not bruce's child? 'cause that's what i've felt like this entire fucking decade! and now that i've left everything behind, you all suddenly want to pretend like i was never unnoticed back then? that all my damn efforts to be good enough was finally acknowledged just now—?"

"why can't you just answer me, jay? why does nobody want to give me answers?"

"... why can't anybody just love me?"

it felt like heartbreak on both your sides. like a thread snapping, jason was as quick to retort—

"we do love you, angel. i do...! i love you so fucking much that i can't handle seeing you in pain. so please let me take care of you, just... just let me handle all of this, please."

— but you can't believe him, not anymore. it hurts falling for his lies, for his words and false reassurances. he can't even promise you takeout back then, what more does his 'i love you's' do you now?

"no, no you can't care for me, jason. not anymore... you're not my brother anymore, you guys aren't family to me anymore..."

is it betrayal in his eyes, or something far deeper? is it unadulterated anger at what you'd said? why can't he just accept your words? why can't he just accept there's nothing in between you anymore other than those past memories long gone?

"... yes, yes we're family. i care for you. just let me show you i do, angel—"

"... we're not even siblings, we're not. we're just strangers to each other.—"

you whisper softly through your damp lashes, throat sore after all the screaming. it doesn't calm down the momentary adrenaline rushing through your body, though. it doesn't, all these reassurances are just a temporary distraction.

"that's not true, angel. don't even... don't even think of saying that—"

"take me back, please. just please take me back to where you last found me. i'll find a way—"

you want to go home, you want to sleep your way through this pain. but jason proves himself to be stubborn, just like his father. and you are, too; anymore of those similarities, anymore and you'll bash your head to the walls just so you could forget.

"no, angel..." he retorts just as quickly, suddenly imposing, suddenly back to square one where it's all him, all his words that matter with no regard for yours. "who the hell says i'm letting you go back there?! that's suicide!"

but you don't matter, don't you? so that automatically means he shouldn't pretend like your life matters, too.

"... i don't care, just please! jason, i'm begging you...! just do this one single favor for me. i can't..."

'i can't go back to the manor...'

just saying it in your thoughts alone makes you sick with nausea. because that means returning to yearning, returning to those sick nights filled with broken diary entries and dick's huff of dismissal, damian's weapons pointed at you, tim's click of the tongue and just... that inflicted, neverending pain.

"you're hurt, angel, you won't survive out in the dark like that. i'm sure as hell not taking you back there. we're going back to the manor—"

"NO! i don't want to be there! that's not where i live, not anymore, no take me back home...!

anywhere... anywhere but there. anywhere but that wretched cage.

"please, jay!"

you call him by his nickname, nearly yanking yourself to his side if it weren't for your legs keeping

"if you don't want me to... then let me go and i'll call a taxi or something—! whatever...! just not—"

"—not there..."

"and if i bring you back to that apartment, what now? you're gonna commit the same old mistakes, you're going to hurt yourself!? you're gonna get yourself killed, break another limb, use more than just crutches to support yourself and get yourself hurt all over again?!"

"NO! i won't, jay... i won't bother you anymore. just not there and... not with them—"

"... not with you, please."

it was a mistake on your part, to audibly whisper out those last words. and yet it was unfixable, you can't take back words once they're said, jason can't take back all the cruel statements he made your way that day, and yet it's him who's offended, who tears up, who heaves and nearly shrieks at you, uncaring for the neighbors living below.

"why are you trying so hard to push us away?! push me away right after you.. you opened up?!"

"because we're not family anymore, goddamnit—!"

"why are you so goddamn stubborn?! care for me, care for me like you care for all those strangers getting mugged in the street! not as my brother—!"

"i am your brother!"

it hurts, your chest hurts, your throat, your wobbly arms and your unfeeling legs. yet what hurts the most is that you just can't accept it, accept all the words he throws your ways. can't accept how you've both changed and it...

it just hurts...

"and i care for you, more than you can ever fucking imagine, so don't... don't fucking push me away! not especially right after i almost lost you!"

"god..." suddenly, he resigns through a sigh.

why, just why, is he calming down now?

"i'm such a fucking dick to you, aren't i? i know i don't deserve you. nobody deserves you and your forgiveness, angel. you've always been so good to me- to us...

"i'm so fucking sorry. for everything. for leaving you behind after that day, even being an asshole to you after. for ignoring you all those years, for breaking every damn promise i made like you were nothing, for realizing all of this just right after you nearly died, in my arms."

his voice breaks at the last words, as if the reminder of what transpired last night permanently left a broken fixture in his memories. as if thinking about it is enough to destroy any bite in his argument.

"you don't— you don't deserve any that—"

"i'm— i'm so sorry, angel."

that was all you wanted to hear, all you wanted to be said throughout the layers of defensive, reckless statements he threw your way.

heavy were the unspoken words that hung in the air. heavy were the unbidden promises he forged himself to ensure but ultimately failed to do so, that were all meant to repair his relationship with you. heavy were the tears that streaked both your cheeks, the unsung arguments, the fists that curl, fingers that bite at indented skin until it bleeds.

"— I should've noticed sooner, i should've known you felt that way."

"i know, jay. i know," your mind, your mouth, they both betray the words your heart wished to speak, but you lock that beating organ out before it forces you to mutter something else. you feel too faint, from the tiredness coursing through your body as an aftershock of your injury, the throbbing of the holes in your body, and the intensity of your emotions.

'i know you know that, and i wished you did something about it when you knew you had the power to change all this—'

'all that were are, all that we were.'

you wanted to tell him, but the sentiment tastes bitter on the expanse of your tongue, as if confessing it would scorch you and your aching brain even further. you just couldn't anymore, you couldn't break both your hearts.

heavy were the emotions uncurling beneath both you and jason's chest, boiling and spilling, until the only words you both could mutter were the ones that scald your aching hearts.

"jason, i'm- i'm still hurt."

"i know, angel. let me take care of it, of you. just let me do this, just once."

he takes a careful stride towards you, a knot forms in your brows and in your stomach. it curls inside your body when his both his hands grip your forearms, gently, like you're made of glass, to push you to softly sit on his mattress.

made carefully, cleaned neatly for you.

you never thought you were worthy enough to have a bed made for you.

— you don't even allow alfred to clean your own room because you don't think you deserve it.

silence ensues, only the squeak of his shoes sliding against the floor, his panting breaths, your unstable intakes of air, and the hinge of his bed were heard, drowning out the swears of the citizens from below his apartment complex and the thumping of car horns.

it's just the two of you, in this room. you and jason, just like the moments spent under the roof of the manor.

you don't fight against him, don't push him away like you did so earlier, in favor of relinquishing your control, your pain, to his squinting, wandering blue eyes that trap your body, at his calloused fingers running across the expanse of the lumps in your arms.

and in that moment, under the sheer glow of his apartment's flickering lights, under the watchful gaze of the restless city nights, of the lamp posts gleaming in the streets; you both looked a little more like each other for every passing second, every passing moment after you'd scream your woes, after he'd retort and retaliate with his excuses, his reasonings.

you had his vengeful glare, staring daggers at him as he took in your wrapped wounds. he had your silence, desperate and aching pleas. you stuttered like him when he chases after words tangling in his parched mouth. he bites his lips like you when he couldn't find the right words, bounding his hands to his delicate strands of hair to pull in agitation, just like you always do.

and both of you were- were good...

a good soldier and a good child, lost in the weave of dreams, expectations and broken, unfulfilled promises.

it reminds you of how he was the only brother you truly had a bond with, of how truly close you were to him, shared moments of brief laughter with, a respite, a paradise without the need to chase after his presence, all done in such short moments, moments that could never be enough to quench your aching thirst for love and familial attention.

he finally speaks after taking his seat beside you, muscled arms wrapping around your shoulders. he broke the intangible silence, with knotted brows and sorry, pleading eyes that look at yours. it made you feel trapped, in his arms and in his mindful apologies, it reminded you of the manor.

"i could've been better for you, angel. i should've known, i'm so fuckin' sorry, i—"

"i know, jay. i know, please..."

please stop. no more, you don't want to hear anymore,. you don't want to dream, to fantasize what could've been.

— because that meant drowning yourself in the past, that meant running back to chasing after empty promises.

and yet...

the more you think, the more the possibilities unfold in your thoughts.

a bitter part of you wished it was him who had welcomed you into your home, into the manor. you wished it was him, not alfred, dick or bruce you'd chase after, wished he was alive when your fleeting dreams were too. the child in you wished his assurances were what graced you in such an early time. just so that, maybe, just maybe, your throat wouldn't close in on itself every time you're reminded of your solitary past, a past lost and without a cause because of his passing.

running after dick, acting as his invisible silhouette, hearing the empty yes's on your invitation for him to come visit your room. tugging on bruce's sleeves whilst his eyes flit elsewhere. knuckles rupturing on the door of tim's room, only to be greeted with a silent hm, and a plea for you to come the next time. hands shakily holding a heavy tray of arabic food you learnt to cook for your younger brother, just for the same bowl to scald and prick stickily against your reddening skin

— you wouldn't have to do all that, if you had at least one ally, an ally who had to be dead when you were alone. someone as perfectly imperfect as you.

he's not like dick, the sun doesn't shine for him, the world doesn't give him grace— if it did, he wouldn't have died. he felt more charcoal than diamond, jagged and rough on the edges. yet charcoal was easier to obtain than diamonds, like the bright blue's of dick staring at you - such a precious, yet rare instance - or brazen emeralds like damian that could only look at you like you're mere pyrite; his attention was easier to obtain, because he knew you outside of your ghostly reputation. saw you as something else. jason was the only presence you were able to share your laughter with in the face of his brief visits.

as you look at him now, as he looks at you too, through his panting and the neverending tears streaking his cheeks. you look at each other in painful, understanding silence. his face, shoulders, chest, legs are painted with scars, incisions on skin, the first trait your eyes lay could on, as your gaze flitters to your equally scarred figure, too.

on the cuts that run deep into your wrists and palms, on the lighter scars, the deeper pigmentation that lay awake, like a chaotic portrait, that throbs with painful reminders that unlike jason, you chose to hurt yourself to replace that pain in your cold, beating chest. but like jason, you both wear these memories painfully on your sleeves.

imperfect, sullen and easily broken, like you.

you don't know whether to cry, or to laugh. that finally, fucking finally, you could share your similarities, your flaws with someone else too.

and at this very time, you knew neither of you could win your losing battles. if you argue even further, if your heart spills anymore words you know would only cut through the tension and break into even more back and forths— jason would only retort, would call you angel as be attempts to calm you down, as if you were an still an innocent bystander to his pain, as if you never told him you wish he'd stay dead.

if you wanted to survive this wretched night without anymore heartbreaks, you'd have to be the first to back down, to step away, be the bigger person.

like how you had to choose to give up on your family, to finally let go of your expectations on them. it was the only way, it was your way of adjusting to them, as you always do.

maybe it was fortunate for jason, that you'd already easily given up.

you'd give up when he wraps you in his arms, and unceremoniously perched you up his lap like how an owner cradles his injured cat, ensuring your injuries aren't pressed against the weapons stuck in his utility belt.

for a moment, you let time with him be. you allow the course of calmness to wash over, for your tears to dry until it feels like sickeningly dry salt rubbing against skin, for the lump resting in your throat to retreat to your throbbing heart, for the blood escaping your body from your injury to slowly seep into the gauze that wraps around it.

without the adrenaline coursing through your veins, without the haste of trying to escape from his hold, you've now access to the feel of his entire body. when the panic escapes from your heart, and all you're left with is resignation, his muscled arms wrapped around your torso; you're left reeling at the scent of motor oil and gunpowder, head buried at the crook of his neck whilst your tears are drying ever so slowly, effuse into his favorite jacket.

everything about jason felt foreign, uncharacteristically huge. his body felt too strong, too heavy, like a burden deeper than just vigilante duties of ridding the crime of gotham.

you never knew just how touch-starved you were, ignoring the specks of blood littering his clothes and the familiar scent of cigarettes reminding you of the bustling streets of gotham, even though the stench of ichor overpowers it— you feel like you're home. not at the manor which smells of fresh, flowery sheets, not at your empty apartment polluted with car smoke just wafting outside your windows; but a home you've once lived in, with just your mother and you.

it was just so fucked up, how he could easily subdue the anxiety eating you away. it was so ironic, how in an apartment filled with deadly weapons: guns, knives, bombs, and journals containing contingency plans against all his enemies; it is where you felt currently the safest, as you're reminded of your past; your humdrum life with your mother.

back when everything was normal, back when all your worries were about the chances of having dinner that night, or hoping that your new clothes wouldn't tear as much so your beloved mom wouldn't have to spend wretched hours stealing just to provide you with all your wants and needs.

it never occurred within your mind, just how similarly you lived like jason. and in jason's thoughts, he realized how much you could've ended like him if he hadn't protected you this very night. if he hadn't heard the family pitch of your scream, a scream engraved deep into his memories, a haunting record that plays nightly as he's reminded that he was the reason why you had terror shocks from the shadows in the corner of your eyes.

he hated that he made you scream as a child, that he was the stuff of your nightmares, but he despised it even more when it had to be the others tormenting his little sibling.

it was enough to make his blood curdle, the sight of those filthy men touching, pinning and kicking, shoving a gun against the head of the person most important to him, puncturing holes into their body. he takes in a shaky gulp, yet he hums - pretending like he isn't truly bothered. he can't let you worry anymore - when your fingers listlessly play with the hems of his jacket.

'they're dead, jason. don't even think of doing what you have to do.'

the palm that rests on the back of your torso digs deeper at the thought of you wriggling in pain, not enough to hurt, but enough to tell you that whatever jason is thinking right now isn't good, your ears taking notice hearing the hastening thrum of his heart, even when his body is slumped against yours, you could still feel the slight shivers trailing across his body.

yet you only bury yourself deeper into him, closed eyes dry with tears and nuzzling at warmth you knew you'll soon never be able to feel again, from a brother who was too late to take you back. his right palm, big against your head, nearly covering the expanse of your scalp, scratches and guides you to properly lean on the blades of his shoulder. you don't see his expressions, you don't know if all the comforting he's doing, all the love he's offering you right now is authentic, or just out of mere obligation as your older brother, but you're grateful either way...

entirely grateful that you'd at least be feeling what it's like to be cuddled by one of your ex-family members, before you ultimately make a quick escape from gotham. you're so grateful that despite everything, at least now, the tiny little part of you, the innocence long gone, would rejoice at their life-long dream at finally being able to coddle with just one family member.

past you would've ranted about this in your journal, would've jumped in joy, run across the manor, and thank the world for blessing you with such a miracle. you wouldn't even care if damian shoved a nasty glare in your way.

even if temporary, even if a small, unyielding part of you wishes that you could stay like this forever; the stronger version of you, the one that learned to mature, to forgive yet never forget— it is the voice of reason amongst a sea of conflicting emotions. it tells you that you've moved on a long time ago, that whatever this is right now, will have you force to let go.

and even if younger you begged that it is unfair, that this is what they've always wanted in their life, for someone to acknowledge them as much as they've loved the family even without reciprocation; you've long since given up at hoping. your heart is weary, and tired of constantly being led to believe, only to come back broken in pieces all the damn time. you're older now, old enough to learn that, well...

everything is temporary in life. the comfort your family offered you was always temporary. jason, who succumbs to burying his head in your scalp to hum foreign tunes— he'll soon be just a burning memory, yet at least you'll be left with something positive to say about him.

after all, their love for you happens in quick successions, it wasn't all the time you were ignored, but chasing after it when it had already become mere dust before you could catch it with your clawing hands.

dick had shown you a crumb of his love, back when he first introduced you to his room. hell, even bruce was decent enough to transfer you out of school, even if it was out of mere dismissiveness and to keep a reputation, he showed he cared for a child, even if it was never enough.

and now?

'now, jason will forget about me soon enough,' you tell yourself.

just like the times you stumbled upon steph and pushed yourself to be invited to watch a movie with her, only to be rejected and given her side of popcorn as compensation and an awkward grin promising that she'll find a time in her schedule to spend with you. waiting for months for an update proved fruitless, writing praises in your journal, all about her silky blonde hair, and her lighthearted smiles don't do anything to manifest time well-spent with someone you thought would at least put in effort to be with you. she was similar to you in so many ways, how she felt dismissed by the family, and never enough for them— but the sheer difference that places you both in different lanes is the fact that she was at least loved, that she still had people care for her outside her status of spoiler. people loved stephanie brown, because she was at least unique, she was noticeable with her ironic jokes and love for purple.

you still had nothing to offer.

it's like the silent moments you were able to cherish when you could last for more than five minutes in the room with damian, his emerald eyes petting titus and alfred the cat, as you sit in the far corner watching how softly, how precious like treasured gems, he treats them. he doesn't fight you, doesn't bat at eye, but witnessing the young assassin, your little brother, become a kid, watching him paint in your memories without his scowled growl directed at you, or a knife pointed on your body; it made you feel like they do have a semblance of love, of care, only for those who deserved.

you only deserve care when you prove yourself to be capable enough.

hell, despite you knowing the least about duke, watching him play with his powers against bruce's orders was what made your bleak life a bit more interesting. having to save him from nearly dying, from fainting due to the overuse of his metahuman abilities when he was still new to being signal. being the faint silhouette he sees throughout the white light in his vision, the quivering, desperate voice who assures him he'll be alive, he'll be fine; you don't know if he remembers it, if the young boy could even recall how your eyes lit up, how your chest felt lighter when his scarred palms came to cup your shivering ones to keep you from ripping at your hair—

your point proves, chasing after them amounts to nothing. you could only be a witness, a bystander if you want to relish in their shared memories, but never part of their small community. you'll never be able to know what's it like having inside jokes with them, to share your homemade meals with them, to show old albums of your life as a child before being adopted. you just can't.

even the prospect of being married, of having them help you arrange your marriage becomes mere fantasy.

everything you ever hoped to spend with them is fantasy, an unattainable desire. you should've known from the start.

to them, to you, to everybody you lived with under the same, gothic roof of a manor rich with history still unknown to an outsider like you— you are but a mere stranger. there at the wrong place, in all the wrong times.

maybe that is what jason felt after his untimely death, that he does not belong anymore. maybe he felt like an intruder instead, just like you, with how he felt replaced by tim, how the legacy of robin lives on even after his passing. how he felt like a cheap rebound of dick after years of searching for answers, or how he never truly mattered to bruce—

— but at least he still has a place in their heart. despite only knowing him after his resurrection, you've come to love him too, and learned to let go at the same time.

you hope jason understands why you're so unwilling for him to help return you to the manor. you hope he doesn't question why you chose to live in your apartment, you hope that if he does find out the reason, he'll shut up about it.

you wish that jason understands, even as you felt well-rested enough on his muscled shoulders, head slowly, eyes blinking away the drowsiness washing over you, rising even if the arms that hover over your scalp invites you to sleep instead.

you're stronger now, not physically, but you willed yourself to force your eyes to stare back at him. his lidded, dull blue oned unlike dick's, and it doesn't look like the ocean eyes you find yourself drowning in staring at bruce's whenever you watch him across the television during his interviews. it was a blue similar to the sea at night, tranquil shores that caresses the soles of your feet standing on sand. there was no shine in them, it was a symbolic retelling of his death, gazing into them, at the depths of emotions swimming in those orbs alone, you feel a sense of ease when they soften, when they give way for you to stare for as long as you want.

although you were sitting atop his lap, looking down at him, his gaze made you feel little. like you were a child all over again. both of his hands are now resting on your waist to stabilize you. you couldn't reason the sudden protectiveness, the unwillingness to let you go, but your mouth opens before you could think, yet jason beats you to it, spilling words you thought he was incapable of admitting — breaking the peaceful silence once more with the significant tremor, the apologies laced in his words— with all the years he spent looking at you in contempt before he resigned to casual, yet fleeting conversations with you back at the manor.

"you know, angel...? i'm so sorry for everything. i really mean it... for all the times i was blind to you wishing you could've spent time with me. and i was so stupid, rejecting you, hurtin' you all those years thinking bruce was out there favoring you when it's the opposite... I didn't know he didn't even care for you. i know you won't be able to forgive me, or them, i know it took me long enough to forgive bruce too. but it's different now, 'kay? i'll be different, angel. i'll protect you from now on, in your, what? your little apartment, right? i don't mind scouting the entire area for you even if it means you're on the other side of the city. all for you, i promise."

"all for you."

he speaks in a careful manner, choosing his words and flinching - the scar on his lip stretches, it reminds you of the one on your neck - when he feels it doesn't rightfully get the message across. you can feel it, feel how every sentence is wired with regret, heavy promises, and an unspoken desperation to keep you close to him, as if- as if he actually cares for you—

you blink, vision blurry as you catch sight of a stray tear running down your damp chest. your nose clogs once more, tongue licking at your chapped lips. jason, he- he takes your fingers before it ventures to tangle upon your hair, he hushes the tight wail escaping your throat as he cradles your body, other palm nuzzling into your sensitive scalp.

are you crying again? at what he'd said?

why are you so broken, that the prospect of somebody once full of disinterest towards you, now cares for you?

and for what is he doing this for, though? all for you? he apologized, exactly like dick, with the same foreboding assurance. is it to repair, to mend a broken relationship that was never there?

"y-you don't have to anymore, jay— i just- just wanted to—"

'i just want to make peace with you before i'll be gone from your life, before you could even fulfill your promises. you don't have to be chained with someone like me for the rest of your life anymore.'

thankfully, he hums at you, interrupting your growing stutters, at the thought that noisily seeps into your head. you hiccuped in reply, drowning out the shivers jolting across your body. if not for his hands still digging at your waist, you swore the dizziness of it all could've made you stumble across the floor.

but, you can't just stay silent about this. about all the shit that happened in your life. not when he's promising you something so burdening, not when he thinks he has a chance of making it up to you.

no, you can't just let them push at you anymore.

you whisper through your inconsolable stutters, eyes drifting down to your lap, at your hands that scratch at raw scars, "i don't blame you, jason. it never really came across to me to hate you for, you know- it's not- you're not the only reason that he neglected me—"

"shh, i know, angel. i know. but that doesn't change shit 'bout how he— we treated you, does it not?"

you shake your head, downcast gaze refusing to look at his troubled one. if you do, you might just surrender to the softness, to the child-like whispers at the back of your mind saying you wanted this.

"w-well you can't change anything about it now... and i hated you still back then, for different reasons. i hope, i hope that you know that, too..." your voice cracks at the seams, "i- i'm still hurt from everything, jason—"  he shushes you again, fingers brushing away at your stray hairs sticking to your damp cheeks. his palms were huge as it cups your face, emitting a comforting warmth against the jagged surface, a heat that makes you slowly, but unsurely melt.

— you never had this brotherly love in your whole life before, never felt comforted in the hands of who was once your tormentor.

"i know you're hurt. i know you're in so much pain because of us— of me, so let me take care of it from now on, 'kay...?"

he whispers, hushed voice a gentle tremor lulling you to near sleep. but you can't just return to this uncharacteristic softness, not now. your eyes, almost squinting shut, snap open to look back at him hesitatingly.

"no, you don't have to do this, jason... i told you," you hesitate, gulping. "we're not– we're not siblings anymore. you don't have to do all this for me... you're not obligated to, unlike last time."

you can feel it, his shoulders squaring in on itself, the subtle tension returning in his muscles, as if his arms were ready to trap you in his gentle hold, restricting you for further escaping.

"... nonsense, angel. take that back— i am doing this all for you."

his voice was always tinged with gruffness, rarely any softness in the way his words were said with finality. sometimes mocking, sometimes spiteful. for a crime lord, it was imperative to always be the supreme voice, a voice of reason.

... but this time, it seems, there's a childish softness, a despondency, laced in his reply. like him, though, your resolve to leave his apartment was as solid as his promise to keep you to stay.

"no, jason, you're doing this all for your guilt... not- not out of pure hearted intentions, aren't you...? just to prove that you're right and- and you're better than the entire family. and then you'll forget about me afterwards—"

you crack at the seams.

"this will be just like all the other times..."

you ignore how his fingers dig deeper into the plush softness of your waist, how it feels like he's staring right past you, mind drifting to another plane of existence at what you'd said.

yet you continue.

"— so please, leave me alone after this...?

after all, what's the point in considering their emotions anymore, when they've never done so for yours?

a silence you couldn't swallow, strangling at the chords in your throat. it feels like a bucket of cold water had washed over the once comfortable silence he'd bask in.

"... please, jay?" your heartbeat spikes at calling him by his once beloved nickname. the one you used to lovingly mutter under your breath, shyly taking his attention from back when you were a child, a subconscious manipulative tactic.

you always called him out with that title, a wide-eyed plea, with what felt like butterflies spinning in your tongue inviting him to linger for just a few minutes with you, just so he could spare some time reading a paragraph of your favorite classic book—

— it was a nickname that fell astray, turned into a flickering memory, after your relationship with him slowly strained. after every month, little by little, you saw him less. until you were a teenager, until he felt his business were with your other siblings instead, his priority on his and their vigilante lives— like the unbidden promises he kept from you, the nickname fell short, turned stranger in your eyes like the man you're seated atop on.

your lips feel dry, your sweat clings to your dampened shirt, and jason.

god, jason's hands enclose itself on your waist, heavy head dropping to your shoulders. you can smell it, his conditioner and a heady scent of cigarettes. his hair tickles the underside of your chin, you don't know whether to laugh or to cry when he takes his space in the corner of your neck, inhaling and exhaling deeply— the heat of his breath hits your skin, it feels too warm, a stark contrast to the shivers overtaking your body.

he heaves in a breath, you can't see his face from below, can't make it out if he's laughing or groaning or what. you can't wrought his head out, he's stronger than you.

momentary panic ensues, you fear he might've disagreed, that he might end up locking you up but—

"huh..." his gruff voice returns, a deeper tremor laced with confusing you'd expect a frigid reply, a desperate plea, maybe even a familiar anger bursting right out of him

"with you calling me that," he whispers on the crook of your neck, head burying far deeper as if- as if he wants his skin to fuse with yours. the depth in his words felt utterly abysmal when he referred to his nickname.

a little more, and you swear you might feel his teeth grazing your flesh. at that, goosebumps start to trail your entire body, your teeth aches with unbidden agitation.

you can't, you can't fall into hopeless respite.

he continues with his little monologue. you're too breathless, shallow air fills your lungs at every word he punches your way, clinging, burrowing deep into your mind, with every touch pinning you in place—

"how could i argue against you now, angel...? not when you sound like the little kid i met back then."

a scoff, laced with amusement, erupted from him. you can feel the vibrations on his adam's apple, you witness the thoughts churning in his mind, the subtle reminiscing in the silence that clings onto both your memories.

a sense of nostalgia washes over you —at the night you both meet, of the gentle giant sneaking past gothic windows and his reaction to being caught, at your excitement to make a new companion— but bitter resentment claws its way faster into your thoughts.

how could he pretend like everything's fine? how could he act like he didn't break your heart when you first saw him?

"but still, i'm serious about the change, for you, just you. anythin' you want, angel, anything—"

a small part of you hates him still, despises the entire family for what they did; what they caused.

how could he have the audacity to think he has a chance at your life? to assume he deserves one? right after- after destroying all your hopes?

he's right, though,. he remembers those memories from when you were a kid. a kid, but not anymore. you're not the little child who looks up to him, to dick, to bruce— who kisses at the soles of their feet, who acts as their shadow chasing after them.

'how dare you, jason...'

you don't know what overcame you, what monstrous being possessed your soul to spitefully reply all of a sudden. maybe it was bitter anger, the past resentment, an urge— a subtle defiance that wishes to torment them like how they did you.

maybe it was the broken remnants of your child that just wants assurance, or the mature teenager in you that wants to move on, to have a new lease on life.

but, either way. it's the words that need to be said that matters, and not the reaction, the unneeded outcomes from the same people who hurt you.

you had to grow past everything, had to take the first steps if you truly wish to let go, rather than run away from the past with no final message.

they say indifference is the opposite of love, not hate. and if you want your tormentors to feel what they've done to you, to know what it's like to be met with spiritless replies, empty promises and hallways, broken hearts and cold dinners— you had to beat them with oppressive silence; a loveless nothingness.

"jay," you call out to him, interrupting his shameless rambles.

"please promise me..." at the sudden shift in your voice, your soft tone, he wretches himself away from you, albeit slowly; looking you straight in the eyes.

there was naught a sudden flicker of absolute firmness in your eyes, but a quiet resolve that demanded finality, a silent plea opposite to the screaming that ensued just an hour ago.

'be the bigger person, (name).'

'because you are not a wayne anymore—

you are your mother's child.'

and she's kind, but assertive. gracious, but cunning. you see an imagery of bruce in your reflection, your passions in dick, your trauma in jason— so many similarities, so many stark contrasts.

but ultimately, you came from her.

you can sense it, the intangible shift in the air, the curious, yet hesitant flicker in his eyes.

you lick your lips, the tinge of blood grounds you in spite of the hastening of your heartbeats.

"look, okay... promise me this—"

a deep inhale, a quivering exhale. and for once, you control the tears brimming in your eyelids.

he nods, urging you to continue.

the knot on your chest only tightens, strangling you until it feels no words could escape your mouth. yet they're mere paranoia, you can't afford fear no more.

"i... i want you to forget about me after this. promise me, jason, to treat this night like all the other nights you pretended i didn't exist. that you love your family but not me, because i am not family. treat me like you despised me because i was your terrible replacement, i could never amount to you and that's all fine with me... let's leave all this behind and- and return back to our normal lives, alright...? where i'm nobody to you, and you're just a stranger to me... "

even your resolve tasted foreign on your tongue, as your eyes suddenly dart everywhere but at his breathless reactions.

"you don't— don't have to dwell on the past anymore."

'come on, (name). don't hesitate anymore. this is your future speaking for you.'

your guts twists in on itself, everything's spinning, your heart feels like it's running a mile. but you force yourself to smile at him despite the energy draining from your body, despite how you had to watch the color wash away from his face, feel how his hands dig into your skin, watch the frustated furrow of his brow—

you smile a shaky smile, grin a final grin, clasp his vulnerable, and equally conflicted face in your scarred hands, and finally let another wave of tears erupt from your eyes.

"can you do that for me, jason?"

"..."

"— alright..."

let the cinema's curtains finally close, let there be no more acts, no more formalities to happen between you two.

let this all be a fleeting memory. just like those past thirteen years and a half: let it be buried in a treasure chest you'll never visit.

his silence acts as resignation, your hands letting go of his cupped face, to carefully bring you down from his loosening hold, as you wince at the pain still throbbing in your wrapped scar; it shall symbolize a final message of goodbye.

the unspoken agreement to move, the cushion of his red helmet brushing on his hair as he puts it on, the jingles of his motor keys in the pockets of his heavy pants, the creak of the door as he opens it, slow and unsure, the stench of your blood still lingering in the air, the uncomfortable solace as he props your hands up his shoulders to lean your body weight against him before he brings a crutch to your armpit. the gruff that came after as his hands stabilized you, for you to properly walk with the newly armed crutches beside his company—

it provides at least a grounding notion for the thoughts spiraling in your mind. the drowned thumps of the wood stumbling on the carpet, the moonlight spilling out the cracks of the hallway's windows, the faint rumbling of the city streets as passing cars honk at the traffic,  the ding of the elevator, the anything of everything.

but him.

focusing on anything else, it at least helps distract you from his heavy gaze, from jason's prying arms ready to capture you, trap you in his apartment, the moment you show slight faintness, any hesitant stumble in your steps, any wincing sound at the pressure in your joints; his overprotectiveness still at an all-time high despite the promise you proposed that he had to pretended to upkeep for you.

when you were finally propped on to his huge motorcycle, a few mishaps being met in your way when he handled you too tight, so daintily as if you're made of fine porcelain, as if he were afraid to let go — crutches graciously placed in the space between his seat and yours — and when you hear the engine's gas revving up, but no jason making a brief quip, a comedic joke only he could understand which you laugh at still...

... only one thing was for certain despite the millions of ideas racing in your mind from his quiet reaction.

'let him bring me home, give him space, and let him forget about all this in the end.'

let the past be a dream.

and you shall only hope that everything that comes after this, will also be just another dream.

after all, he had only agreed to let you go home - for now, just now... - but hadn't truly promised to leave you alone, not at all, never.

and maybe, just maybe, you should've never trusted his words at all.

it was all that it is, all that it was.

a mere device for tactical missions.

the intercom linked directly to the batcave was just a device used to communicate with the family in the rare instances he chose to pair up with them in case jason learned his current tactics required more than a helping hand, but rather companionship in the midst of completing tasks.

its usefulness was only for practicality.

and it was just that, a tool for the greater good, yet easily discarded after he gained what he wanted.

when you left him, crutches in hand, back turned as your body fades in on the distance, he realizes that even thought it was his pride that he knew you the longest - now even bearing your deepest, most personal issues that just makes letting you (temporarily) go hurt his heart - he had only ever used you for his entertainment, not even an apology nor a confrontation was made to confess to you of his past sins towards you.

he's such a shitty brother, isn't he?

all that it is, all it ever was.

and yet as the polluted breeze of gotham flutters through his hair, the night sky still gleaming over the horizon of long standing, abandoned buildings camouflaged amongst shitty, barely functioning apartment complexes - where he knows are one of the current places you live in - he willed himself to comb them back, especially the stubborn strands sticking near his ears. in his hands, he holds an intangible device.

the same old, rickety intercoms.

just like old times.

so he presses the tiny button used to trigger direct calls, and shoves it deep into his ears, a perfect fit as every device was crafted to each individual working for the batman. you're the only member of the family to never adopt the vigilante life, he's glad you never did, but at the same time... it was what what you apart from everybody else.

everything just reminds him of how much you're worlds apart from the family. everything just pushes him to change that current position of yours; to make you know you matter more than you ever know.

"... ah, young master jason, you're back," alfred's contemplating voice buzzes through the call. no hint of surprise was evident in his tone, but rather a welcoming quip at his current rebellion towards jason. "i suppose you might require some assistance if you're calling then, right?"

'yes,' he might've said, stalling, but it's not as simple just as money heist problems or an issue regarding the resurgence of new kryptonite deposits— no.

jason doesn't want that. he doesn't want to waste anymore time, not with making jokes or pretending like the topic at hand was just a joke.  not when the matter precedes mere missions or a tendency to prank bruce, not when it's his angel who he refuses to truly let go of.

not when your life is at stake living in a completely foreign part of gotham. not when you nearly died, and if he wasn't a lick away from saving you, you'd end up like him.

but with nobody to mourn you.

"we need to talk about (name)."

and then like a thread snapping, he hears gasps from a distance, beyond the device's speaker registering. he hears hushed whispers, stephanie's feminine voice cutting through the tension, but no sarcasticness, no quips from duke, not even cass' occasional question. despite only hearing a fraction of the batcave's echoes, he feels like a witness to the tension rising, even he feels his shoulders squaring up. like a spectacle to behold, like time frozen in the hands of fate itself.

gotham wasn't always this silent, but the space between jason and your world felt like mountains apart that it just destroys any caution jason feels at the current moment; all in the name of this... this urge to feel your head resting in his shoulders once more, your arms wrapped tightly around his, safe and sound.

"tell me what happened."

it wasn't alfred's voice this time that cuts off the ever-so confusing thread, the dangerous thoughts swimming in jason's head. a deep tremor, laced with an undertone of desperation, is heard through the silent murmers of the intercoms. he couldn't see it, but he could picture the haste, the emergence of the bat to be the very

and yet all was said in a tone so different, so completely foreign to jason.

it wasn't as commanding, as opposing as what he's used to. it wasn't his voice that he uses towards criminals, it wasn't the vibrato used to interrogate criminals, let alone scold his vigilante partners.

... something completely different, yet easy to catch on.

it was batman through the call, yes, yet not quite so.

no.

it was bruce wayne asking, it was a father who hides his worry through a veil of composure. yet jason knows him, knows him enough to know that he, bruce, knows of your disappearance all too suddenly. knows that that the entire family might've finally come through their senses like he did.

"jason... did you... did something happen?" dick's voice, laced with audible shivers. jason had to do a double take at the noticeable shift in his behavior, at how... wrecked his eldest brother asked. but despite it all, it seems like he catched on as easily, at the sudden convenience, of what might implied jason's impulsive decision to call them at such a dire moment.

— that's why his next question doesn't come off as shock.

"you didn't possibly... meet them, didn't you?" it's like the athlete couldn't believe the words escaping his mouth, yet jason could feel it, the charged air, the shift of movement, as dick's mouth presses uncomfortably close to the speakers.

"tell me, did you... find them?"

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

PLEASE READ: 20,490+ words. no beta, we die like the reader's love for the family. anyways, wow, this was the hardest scene of all to write. so many dialogues compacted into one scene alone. because of all my hard work, revisions and even rewrites 😭 i demand you all to comment and interact with me because i am NOT wasting all this effort for only like a few comments. that's all i ever ask for actually <333 anyways, the jason and mc parallels are still prevalent, but i'd also like for all you guys to take note of the miscommunication trope that i did. like the reader who's so broken to the point they can't comprehent that people are capable of loving them, and jason who can't property communicate how much he cares for you, stumbling over all his words and saying all the wrong things wow. very much me and my siblings' dynamics to one another. we love doomed siblings trope!!!

yes, again, i am begging for you guys to interact with this post, and avoid on hate comments, please. i've already dealt w/ enough anons but oh well, that's unavoidable huh. happy late valentines day, btw! and please do remember to not directly steal parts of my work. now to check if you guys actually read the author's notes: what is your favorite line/quote/literally anything in this chapter? again, despite its shitty quality, i put a lot of time and effort into the creation of this. this is not just a fanfic for me, but something very personal. again, don't forget to interact and give inputs, thank you all for being so patient and waiting for this!

taglist: @neerathebrightstar , @ghostdoodlen , @prince-nikko , @daisy-spot , @strawberryglass , @h0neybun-was-here , @confused-they , @weirdcore-fantasy , @mystyque234 , @marssthings , @notwhoy0uthink , @aliengutzstuff , @lilyalone , @luffyadolover , @bunbunsonny, @lazyemmy , @questionthegrapevine , @oh-nowo-i-got-uwu , @winter-world , @budijojo , @budijojo , @altruisticbeauty , @dopepursebasketballplaid , @the-holy-pigeon , @red-phantom-0 , @em-draws14 , @thypplover , @cens0r3d-blog , @yl90 , @sadeem575, @couldeatthatgirlforlunch , @maicenitas, @kiiyoooo , @flyingpansaurus , @farmerboywakatoshikun-blog , @rogueofbullshit , @earlqurl , @dotomuses , @sheep-from-rad , @tsuniio , @thesm1l3yface, @nosochek-3o , @radiantharry , @iwasveronica , @kdjhubby , @ashstwin , @thetreefairypersonalblog, @se-rae2 , @0ut0fsweets, @notwhoy0uthink

DC Masterlist

Batfam

• Family Knows Best / Part 2 (Platonic Yandere Batfam x m!reader)

•Smothered (Platonic Yandere x m!reader)

•Lost In Pages (Platonic Yandere x bookworm m!reader)

•Snuggled In (Platonic Yandere x m!reader)

•The Man In Red (Platonic batfam x m!reader)

•Held Tight (Platonic Yandere x m!reader)

These posts are cousins to me.

•Masterlist•

•Main Posts•

•The Pharaoh And His Wife’s

•Void And Prism

•Angel

•Aphrodite & Ares

•Ancient Of Space

•The Caretaker

•Siren Everlasting Trio

•Ancient Of Ice

•Selkie

•Al-ghul

•Queen

•Doll

•The Crcus

•The Watcher In Red

•The Bikers

•Snow

•Pomegranates

•Balance

•Harpy

•The Bone Queen

•Banshee

•The Dancer

•Roommate

•Cafe Ghost

•Nightingale Family

•Family Of The Fea

•Arctic Sea Nymph

•Undead Gardener

•Dragon

•Snake Empress

•Frostbites Child

•The Sun & Moon

•Stone Angel

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Older works that have been redone•

•Misunderstanding Vampire

•Arctic Sea Nymph

•Void and Prism

•Family Of Fea

•Snake Empress

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Little Facts•

•Misunderstanding Vampire Facts

•Aphrodite & Ares Facts

•Al-Ghul Facts

•End-Motel Facts

•Selkie Au Outfit Au

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Art•

•Pharaoh And His Wifes Art done by @the-cat-noodles

•Aphrodite & Ares Art done by @goddessofbees

•More Aphrodite & Ares Art done by @goddessofbees

•Balance Art done by @goddessofbees

•Prince Of Hearts Art done by @goddessofbees

•Harpy Art done by @goddessofbees

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Masterlist•

•Aphrodite & Ares Masterlist

•The End Motel Masterlist

•Funny-Horror web series

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Reblogs•

•Obsession Less Ghost And What That Entails

•Casper High Kids In The Siren Everlasting Au

•Added Story By @fucking-brains-out

•Added Story To Pharaoh and his wife’s

•DanDad Au by @goddessofbees

•Danny Phantom x Inuyasha Crossover

• !!!WARNING!!!

•Ghost Mom Vote by @ten-shiriya23

•Danny and Dash

•Add on to The Prince Of Hearts done by @villainmirabelmadriga

•Ao3 Tag

•The Bone Queen Add on

•My Add on to Danny is a Fea by @bet-on-me-13

•Poll 1 results

•Poll 2 results

•Poll 3 results

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Asks & Answers•

•Pitch Pearl Talk

•Pretty Dresses

•Flower Field

•Snake Empress Plans

•That One Time A Summing Worked

•The Prince Of Hearts

•Plans for Snake Empress

•Arctic Sea Nymph Danny’s New Phantom Form

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Tag Trains•

•Random Lore Drop

•How Pinterest Sees Me

•Picrew Tag Train

•Five Songs

•Picrew & Quiz

•Super Personality

•Picrew & Last Song

Am I giving Tim too much power and making him almost untouchable with many plot holes, and in fact, nothing you read will make sense? Yes, I am doing that, is there a problem?

Robin Hood AU Part 1

Tim Drake Saved Gotham from Batman. Yeah, but lets say that he didn't do it becoming Robin

He Saved Gotham by becoming the focus of attention and method of anger release for Batman

///

And then there was a new rogue in Gotham. Batman didn't know who they were, what did they wanted, and why they seemed to be targeting only him. Inside and outside the mask, as Bruce Wayne and as the Dark Knight

He didn't have time for this, when he had them, when he found out who they were, he would destroy them, if necessary he would burn the world down, because his world burned with his son in that warehouse. Whoever the guy behind the attacks was, he would know the full wrath of the Dark Knight

But Tim was already hiding well from Batman right under his nose, Tim grew up following, watching and absorbing everything from the adults around him. But most of all he learned not to make mistakes. Tim would use the mistakes of the Joker, of Riddle, of each and every one of Gotham's rogues and learn not to leave clues, not to get caught, to hide right next to Batman, because it's a popular lie, Batman doesn't have eyes in the back of his head. The extra eyes he had died in Ethiopia

Tim had resources, time and only 12 years old, he was still moldable, he could fill any mold to perfection, so he forced himself to fit the mold of the rogue that Gotham would love. Because Tim wouldn't go for the city, he loved Gotham too much to destroy it trying to save a man who seemed to be digging his own grave, one in which he was dragging the city with him. Tim strategically targeted Bruce Wayne and Batman so that the man would get a slap in the face for his behavior. And if a building exploded, Tim would make sure that the people who worked or lived there would have good insurance and new jobs and compensation from Wayne Enterprises.

And Batman turned against the rogue who forced him to bury his own pain with his son and went to fight this guy who seemed to be virtually and physically everywhere. Batman knew the guy knew his identity, because the attacks were personal, lethal in any case, he was playing with him, mocking him. Until he seemed to stop

One day a letter on his door telling Batman how sorry he was and that "I had done what had to be done" and "I'm sorry for your loss, Mr. Wayne, but you were destroying the city with you" was all he got before the depressing silence of a quiet city -No, not a city, of Quiet Gotham-

The world kept turning and both lives continued

One next to the other

///

Steph became Robin long before because Batman was trying to open his heart to another child, Cassandra arrived just as she was supposed to, Steph never died because Batman was there and Dick made peace with the brother he could never love and loved his sisters and when Jason came back to life there was no vengeance in his blood because Batman never replaced him 10 minutes after Jason died. Yes, he was angry at the Joker and Batman's inability to kill him, but someone else did and Jason will embrace whoever did it. And when Damian got home everything was fine and he didn't steal the mantle from anyone because Steph was eager to give it to someone else and get Batman off her ass.

And Tim's life was lonely. His parents never stopped being absent, and the plane crash still happened because that wasn't because he was Robin, but because he was simply a living being. (Yes, I'm changing things up here) Janet was left in a coma and Jack died and in the end he was just a kid in a mansion that was too big, but so afraid of depending on someone (the last time he saw someone depending on someone else he had to blow up several buildings and cyberbully them to calm them down) who took the reins of Drake Industries and invented an uncle just to not be put in the system and still be off the bats' radar

And then Batman died

///

Hey you!, Yeah you!, Imagine that in the middle of the Bats' life, every time someone (a rogue) attacked Gotham, Tim would appear out of nowhere and digitally betray them to the Bats, and if Oracle isn't mentioned here, it's because you and I know that she would dismantle Tim from day one, so shut up, she's busy with her Birds of Prey or something, I DON'T KNOW, I'VE BEEN AWAKE FOR 26 HOURS

Part 2 of this bullshit

Part 3 cuz somehow I manage to make another one of these

Part 4

Part 5??????? Why????

Part 6 ma british accent write this

Part 7.5 We've gotten fanciers

Part 8 It took more than a while

I want all the bats to wake up in a world where Jason never died and Tim never joined the family and it just…absolute chaos. I’m talking like, competent Lex Luther but it’s Tim Drake.

Idk how but he was still trained by Shiva (was going to visit his parents at a dig over holiday and took a wrong turn). And it’s not like he’s a villian. he’s an anti-hero. Morally grey at best. He never stopped with the night stalking, he just expanded it to more than the bats. He is *the* info broker of Gotham City. Nothing happens in his city without him knowing.

The key thing here is that Tim never adopted Bruce’s mission. And as a kid with too much money, too much time, and a penchant for being where he shouldn’t be, Tim grew into the most feral of gremlins.

I’m talking chaos for chaos sake. Pulling one pin out of a well crafted plan by either the bats or the rogues just to see it all fall apart and watch them rush to improvise on the spot. I’m talking blackmailing a boardroom of executives because they voted against creating a skatepark in a lower income area of the city (kids deserve safe places to play). I’m talking catching a wiff of the League of Assassins in his city, tracking down all info on them back to their main HQ finding out about Damian, and calling in Mama Shiva to do a two person wipe out of an entire base to abduct who Tim has officially claimed as his little brother (aka Damian).

And yes, Damian does eventually make it to Bruce, but not before Imprinting on Tim, which is how Tim *finally* gets dragged into the family. Because despite his general ruthlessness, he has not, and probably never will be able to, say no to Damian when he flashes his puppy eyes at him.

Bruce is exasperated. He doesn’t know how to fix this. Jason is kinda impressed. Dick is wallowing because where’d his cute baby brother go. Who is cleverly disguised, feral trash panda.

Meanwhile in the other room Damian and Tim are sitting together sharing a secret smile.

“How long do you think it will take them to realize we’re the same Damian and Tim from their dimension?”

“Depends on how good your acting is Drake.”

“Plsss. I give it 6 months.”

“A year,” Damian challenged. Because it was a challenge.

“Deal.” Tim agreed, because this time around he gets to be a bit more chaotic and also dote on his baby brother without the threat of being assassinated. Oh yes. The younger brothers are going to have fun with this one.

The other family

Batfam Yan! × Negleted Coraline!Reader

《Platonic》

Note: English is not my first language, sorry if there is any translation error

Pt: 1 2

Empty

That's how the mansion felt since you disappeared, your defiant yet adventurous energy had disappeared

The only thing left of you was your abandoned room full of dust, no one had dared to enter

Maybe because of guilt, of believing that they were not worthy of you

They were a horrible family for you and they knew it, and now you were lost somewhere alone and scared

Your disappearance affected everyone in different ways

Richard, who was once the pillar of the family was deteriorating

He still remembers all the times he pushed you away or said he didn't have time, he would do anything to go back in time and apologize to you

Jason, had become more aggressive than usual

He had thought that maybe some criminal or villain had kidnapped you, if Bruce hadn't stopped him Jason would have massacred every criminal who crossed his path

Tim, had been working extra hard he didn't even sleep

He and Bruce were trying to find any clues about you but nothing seemed to work, his room was a mess full of papers and coffee cans and energy drinks

He hoped you were okay and that if you came back you would forgive him for all the times he pushed you away from him

Barbara, she was also trying to find any clues about you, she hacked all the cameras in the city to find some kind of trace of you but there was nothing

She wanted to cry, cry from helplessness she was supposed to be like a sister to you

But all she did was push you further away from her, maybe she focused too much on her own responsibilities that she left aside the most important thing

Her family and you

Cass, had been patrolling more than usual looking everywhere

You couldn't be that far away, but sometimes you thought you just left the mansion

Which wasn't weird, they had treated you like garbage all your life it wouldn't be a surprise if you moved out of the mansion or Gotham

Stehp, She had been patrolling with Cass and Jason but unfortunately they couldn't find any interesting clues either

She was one of the only ones who dared to enter your room, but she hadn't found anything

Just old clothes and some of your belongings, your room felt so empty without you

Maybe what made the mansion feel like a home was you, but you weren't here anymore and maybe you would never come back

Bruce, since you left his life had changed

The same feeling from when Jason had died was back but this time stronger

He tried to keep your disappearance private but for some strange reason all of Gotham found out, now everyone knew that Bruce Wayne's daughter was missing

And of course there was no shortage of rumors, many people said they were a bad father and although he hated to accept it he knew they were right

But he swore that he would find you, and he would put aside his principles and morality if it meant having you back

Damian, he was one of those affected since you left, he had changed completely

He didn't even have that same emotion when he had to go on patrol and most of the time he spent locked in his room

His performance at school had dropped, he wanted to pretend that he didn't care but he knew that wasn't true, since you left he felt as if something important had been taken away from him

And he doesn't understand it, he treated you in the worst way, he insulted and humiliated you

But why does he feel so bad now? Maybe it's the guilt that's consuming him, if you came back would you forgive him for everything?

If you came back would you let him be your brother again? He just wants everyone to go back to the way they were before but it seems as if fate and the world were against him

_

Richard knocked softly on Damian's door, he had been trying to get him to come down for breakfast but his attempts were in vain

He knew Damian was going through a difficult time like the whole family, but he couldn't stay in his room all day ignoring reality

"Leave me alone Richard! I'm not going down..."

Damian shouted at him from the other side of the door

"Fine... but if you're hungry I'll save your breakfast"

Richard said before leaving, he knew he shouldn't pressure Damian but it was very noticeable that something wasn't right in him

Maybe the others didn't notice it but he knew that Damian had been crying more than usual, Damian's red eyes were a clear clue to that

Damian snuggled deeper into his sheets, you hated this and he hated this family

Because of everyone's fault you were now missing, and maybe you would never come back

He just wanted everything to change, he wanted to be with you and He would do anything to not be here

_

Damian was walking through the halls of the mansion, he had been looking everywhere for his cat Alfred but he just couldn't find him

When he was walking through a particular hallway he noticed a strange half-open door

That made him raise an eyebrow, strange...

He had never seen that door before, perhaps his father had built a new room, he could swear that before in that place there was only a wall

Curious he approached the door, opened it completely and there was nothing

It was just a dirty room, but something caught his attention

There was a small piece of furniture in the middle of the room and something was on top of the furniture

It was difficult to know what was on top of the furniture because of the darkness of the room, there weren't even windows

He got a little closer and there he saw it, it was a doll But not just any doll

It looked too much like you, but it seemed strange to him that the doll was a little broken, one of its button eyes It was loose, only leaving one button on.

But the doll wasn't alone, there was another one too.

As soon as he saw the appearance of the other doll, he felt that something was wrong.

The other doll looked like him, but this time this doll had two button eyes, and this one didn't look damaged like the other doll.

But something seemed strange to him, there was a key with a rather peculiar appearance.

It looked worn and strange.

He grabbed the key, he thought it would be useful for something, but just when he was about to close the door again, something caught his attention.

A door.

A door in the wall of the room, he quickly entered the room again with curiosity.

He crouched down to the height of the small door, how was it possible that someone could pass through here?

He tried to open it but it was locked so he decided to use the strange key he had found, maybe that was the key

And just as he predicted the door opened, his eyes widened in surprise when he saw the blue hallway full of swirls that was inside the door

Was this a dream?

No... it couldn't be, this was real

He felt like he shouldn't go in but something inside him told him to do it, maybe it was curiosity that made him enter that strange place

But he did it and decided to go in, he just hoped he wouldn't regret this stupid decision

_

The halls of the mansion looked so different, since he crossed the other door it seemed like he was transported to another place

He thought that the door had taken him to the same place, but it wasn't

The mansion was more colorful and full of life, it felt like a dream

But that didn't last long when he felt something push him into a room

When he was about to attack the stranger he saw you

You

I was alive...

You looked disheveled and it seemed as if you hadn't slept properly for weeks

But what caught his attention the most was one of your eyes, it was a button

Part of your face and right eye had dried blood, he could imagine the pain you felt when they put that in your eye

"What the hell are you doing here!?"

You whispered looking at him scared but angry at the same time, this isn't supposed to be happening

Damian isn't supposed to be here, if the others find out it will be the end of you

You couldn't let him have the same fate as you, you weren't going to allow it

"I think it would be a better question to know what YOU are doing here!"

Damian looked at you accusingly, it took him by surprise that you were here

A part of him was angry that someone had hurt you, he swore he would kill the bastard who dared to touch you and hurt you

"It's hard to explain-"

Before you could finish speaking the two of you could hear a cheerful voice approaching the room

Damian noticed how that voice was very similar to Richard's, before he could ask anything you quickly covered his mouth

"Little sister, lunch is ready now you must come down if you don't want it to get cold!"

You reacted quickly and grabbed Damian to hide him in a small closet in the room

When you were about to close the door you gave him a signal to keep quiet, he a little unsure just accepted confused

You closed the closet door to quickly leave the room

And there he was, "richard" or that's what this thing called itself, but you knew it wasn't him

Just an imitator like the whole family

"I'll be down in a moment, I just have to-" you couldn't even finish your sentence when you felt a hand grab your face, you swallowed nervously when you felt him looking at you, maybe his eyes were button-like but that doesn't mean you didn't find them creepy

"You seem too nervous, are you hiding something from me?"

His cheerful tone quickly changed to a serious one, you quickly denied that he couldn't find out that someone else besides you was here

"No! I would never do that, besides you shouldn't keep secrets, right?"

You said trying to hide your nervousness, the grip on your jaw tightened and made you let out a sound of pain.

"Okay... don't be late, lunch will get cold!"

He said quickly changing his tone of voice to a more cheerful one, he let go of you and then left while his presence disappeared through the huge hallways

The pain in your jaw was still there, sometimes you wanted to reveal yourself to them but you knew it would only cause you more problems

And you still didn't want to end up dead with your soul in a mirror

You entered the room again and took Damian out of the closet

You dragged him through the hallways to take him back to his dimension

You ignored the questions he asked you, you weren't in the mood to fight with him, you had to get him out of here before it's too late

"Stop complaining and hurry up, I have to get you out of here as soon as possible.."

He frowned and fell silent, he had too many questions about your appearance and why you were here

You reached the room and you took him to the small door

"Okay, go in now and go!"

You told him trying to get him to come in, he held back not wanting to go in

"And what about you!? You have to come too, you can't stay here!"

Damian tried to take you with him, he wasn't going to let you stay here with these strange creatures, he wasn't going to lose you again

"I have no choice! Do you think I want to be here!? But...but I have to stay, I was stupid and I did things I regret" small tears formed in your eyes, you hated this, you would do anything to change fate "but I won't let you end up like me, so go now!"

He tried to resist going in the door, he wasn't going to lose you again

"I won't let you-"

Before he could finish speaking you gave him a hug, small tears falling from your eyes

Damian hugged you back, as if he was afraid you would leave or disappear

"Remember that your sister loves you, never forget that..."

He could barely react, you pushed him towards the door, the spiral-shaped hallway absorbed him and he couldn't do anything, he saw your face for the last time as you gave him a smile

And the door closed, for the first time he had seen you smile, smile at him and now he will never be able to see that smile again

Damian's body shot out of the room, his body hit the wall and he felt dizzy

He tried to get up to go back into the room, but it was in vain

He saw before his eyes how the door disappeared and only the wall of the hallway was left

"NO!"

He tried to break the wall, but he found nothing, if Richard hadn't found him and stopped him he was sure that he would have broken the entire hallway

Richard tried to get him out of there but all he did was scream saying that you were there

Richard thought that your disappearance affected Damian too much

_

"You have to believe me, father!"

Damian yelled at Bruce, the whole family was calling him crazy

They thought your disappearance was affecting him too much, he wasn't crazy

He swore that everything he saw was real

"You don't understand, Damian"

"Understand what's wrong father!?, (name) is missing and-"

He knew where you were, they just had to believe him, maybe that doll was a clue to your whereabouts

That room was a key clue to knowing your whereabouts but no one seemed to take him seriously

Damian tried to speak again but his father interrupted him, silencing him

"Because I've already been in that world!"

"What?"

Taglist

@hearts4mica @crazycaoticsimp @sirenetheblogger @caged-birdies-blog @l-stvrlightt-l @lilithskywalker

_____>

If you have any questions about this AU I'll be happy to answer them

I hope you all like this chapter since I won't be posting anything new this week

If I have a little time I'll answer some question

The Star Zone!

~ Rules

No nsfw. I might write it one day but not now.

Be polite. Don't like don't read as always.

No requests. I do accept suggestions/ideas however!

Generally anyone can read what is on this blog, but I will give warnings if I feel like certain content requires them. Please listen to warnings when listed!

Generally my preference for writing is to write Alternative Universes! I love fairy tales the most, so expect some degree of magic in most stories. Ofc, yandere is key.

~ About me

I exist! I think that's pretty cool! She/her, btw.

New to Tumblr, so still figuring out intricacies and stuff.

I am an adult, if that's relevant.

~ Masterlist

General Taglist -

Yandere Superfam:

Happy Father's Day! (Hints of Yandere Batfam.)

Yandere Batfam:

The Friendship Bracelet

Soul animal Au:

- Chapter 1.

- Chapter 2.

- Chapter 3.

- Chapter 4.

- Chapter 5.

- Chapter 6.

- Chapter 7.

Ask tag - #soul animal au

Taglist - moonchild-artemisdaughter jjsmeowthie madine11-blog xxrougefangxx hadesnewpersephone neerathebrightstar mel-star636 jaythes1mp rosecentury lov3vivian gaozorous-rex-blog victoria1676 vrsin silverklaus ryukyuin kurai-hono-blog thisisafish123 isawyourbrowserhistory ain-t-no-way-bsfr realifezompire lunaluz432 nickey-diano sukiiluvs sara0055 alleakimlala kdidgg paperhermits lavender-moony alishii emmbny sirenetheblogger fantasy-angelo andrasia vinnvinnvintage nyra-42 armystaysatnct beyond-your-stars starsdotalk adeptusxia0 jailbimbo yandereheros sxftiebee i-have-three-feelings toast-on-dandelioms lyl-3 sitepathos pato-spoiler-27 ghostdoodlen phoenixgurl030 problematicreblogger sociallyakwardpanda imaginarydreams zanzie yuyuzi-ling soriansick f1lover4ever kiikkey elizzsush raincxtter luoyi85 yune1337 erikasurfer thekingofsimps chaosbeanuwu

@ Has been removed for the purpose of not giving excessive pings. If you've asked to be added to the list, and your name hasn't been listed here, please reach out! Or if I misspelled your @ so I can correct (I type them manually!).

Fanart ~

By The Amazing Luffyadolover - One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six!

These are amazing and everyone interested in the Au should take a look!

By youngladysakura - Fanart!

Their version of Reader is so pretty!

Batfamily - masterlist with child/teen readers

Batfamily & male!reader, PART 2

Hi! Sorry I don’t know if you’re st ill taking requests but if you are, can I request a male!vigilante!Y/N. he’s likes 13-15 (younger than Tim but a older than Damian). He’s a orphan and been the infamous vigilante who goes by Jinx. He’s like super duper smart and knows martial arts and overall a total badass. The bat family has been trying to catch him for a couple of months now since he’s been like stealing their missions. Y/N just finished stopping a drug dealing near the docks. He’s about to leave when night wing and Robin (Damian) jump in front of him. They fight and robin kicks him in the ocean, knocking him out. When nightwing sees he’s not coming back, he goes and rescues him. So like they take him back to the bat cave and they put him in a cell and interrogate him, they find out he’s just a kid, a orphan and knows their secret identities (cause like I said, he’s super smart) Bruce decides to adopt the kid saying something like that it’s ether being adopted or going to jail. And Y/N and Damian aren’t happy about but have no choice and yeah that’s it. Sorry if it’s complicated or long - REQUEST

Batfamily & gn!reader - platonic

Can I request a gn!reader x batfam? The reader is in the batfamily business and is the 2nd youngest. They’re on a mission with the others, when they get hit by a alien tech which turns the reader into a toddler (2-3 years old?)😱 so the batfamily had to take care of the reader till they find an antidote. You can end it with the reader being turned back to their original age? - REQUEST

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

May i request a baby bat (preferably male) that's left at home with a babysitter (it was after Alfred's surgery or he could just be sick but he's resting) while everyone is out on missions and the babysitter is completely ignoring the babies cries for food and a diaper change while titus is trying to comfort him (btw i noticed that you write titus as doberman even though he's a great dane? Please don't take offense i didn't know if this was on purpose or not so i just thought I'll point it out!) baby ends up crawling out of his crib, out of the doggy door and into the streets in only a diaper and shorts and of course titus is right behind, every time baby tries to go into traffic titus is gently nudging him away with his snout , every time a random person tries to pick up the baby and take him to the police titus is not having it, until eventually word reaches the batfam about this and they go to investigate and the unbelievable anger they felt after watching the camera footage of inside their house, you can choose what happens to the babysitter but family fluff with the baby please! Sorry if this is long i just heard from other writers that the more details they have the easier it is to write, thank you!

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Can I request a batfamily x male reader where reader is the youngest member(just a few months or so younger than Damien) and brings home a tiger he’s somehow managed to tame and is trying to convince his family to let him keep it?

Batfamily & male!reader, PART 2 - platonic

Batfamily x teen!reader who’s like younger than Timmy but older than dami, and he’s also a vigilante and were one before being taken in by the family. Anyways he has been with the family for a little while now and he’s close with every member, heck even he’s even close with the JL. But the batfamily doesn’t really know much about the reader’s past, and it’s a big deal if the world greatest detective doesn’t know ether. So a mission goes wrong and the reader is hurt so they obviously have to remove some of their clothing to treat him and they are shocked when they find many scars on the reader’s body. They decide to ask them about it when he wakes up. Once the reader wakes up and sees his body wrapped in bandages, he panics and has a panic attack because he knows they know about his scars now. One of the family member comes in and calms him down, and once’s he’s calm, they ask about how he got these scars. The reader knows he can’t keep lying anymore so he reluctantly tells them. His backstory is like Damians and cass. His father has a clan of his own and he trained the reader from birth to be the best assassin in the world. His punishments and training were harsher than Damian’s even. But he ran away from all that when he was 10. By the time he finishes the rest of the family is there and heard everything, he just breaks down crying again and the whole family now comforts him, telling him he’s safe now. IM SORRY IF YOUR UNCOMFORTABLE BY THIS :(

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Baby bat who gets kidnapped by lex Luthor but has no clue what’s happening like he’s being taken to metropolis and baby bats is like are we thiere yet singing and being a menace Thiere confused on why an ugly bald guy is taking them out but Luthor gets fed up and leaves the kid somewhere and they just vibe

Batfamily & male!reader, part 2 - platonic

I hope it’s not too weird but can I request batfam a batbro!reader, older than Damian but younger then Tim that isn’t very emotional when it comes to death? Like they don’t understand why people are so hysterical over death. Maybe an animal died and they just go “oh they’re dead” like it was nothing. Hope ur doing well, I’m projecting so much with this but I can’t wait to see what you do if you do. I love ur writing, can’t wait to read more 🫶

Batfamily & male!reader, part 2 - platonic

Another request, hope it’s not bad. But batbro!reader who was raised to be perfect. Who’s older than Damian bur younger than Tim. But I was thinking maybe Bruce and readers mum have split custody and his mum is very demanding, the reader doing things like music and ballet (I just love dancing bc I was a dancer) and their mum pushes them to be perfect, in that and schoolwork and belittles then if it’s not perfect. Like they are worse than most of the family, not sleeping and always studying or pushing his body to the limits with practice. The family is going to a dancing competition for Cassandra and the reader is performing but they don’t know, reader not getting first place and they see how his mother reacts badly, maybe belittling the reader, their reaction maybe. Hope it makes sense, if you are uncomfortable with it dw🫶. I’ve seen so many assassin or killer ones.

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Oh god, i don't have any specific scenarios but i would really like to see some more babybat reader? Maybe batfam and a foodie baby? One where he's the happiest when he's eating

Batfam & male!reader - platonic

I'd like to see how batfam deal with babybat (not necessarily baby like 4 or 5) that's obsessed with video games? Like first thing he does in the morning is turn on his playstation before he even has breakfast or anything, maybe Bruce takes him out to get some outside time but instead he's just pointing out how some things look like this certain game he played etc, and basically the only way his brothers can interact with him is if they asked to play with him

Batfam & male!reader - platonic

Hey, I was wondering if you could do the Batfam with a Teen Former black Widow ( sorry English isn't my first language)

Batfam & male!reader - platonic

Can I request a batfamily discovering that Bruce has another biological son(who’s reader and is the second youngest) but also that reader is stuck in a abusive home and they go to save him from it?

Batfam & male!reader - platonic

Im so sorry ,in advance, its okey to ignore the request Batfam x child here this scenario: Batfam where on a mission catching some criminals, like usual but then hearing crying noise on the dark alleyways, when Batman or anyone in the batfamily check to see, When they looked, they saw a crying child with little bit blood on their face , they asked “why are they crying?are you hurt?” or “ are you okey? What happened?” The child pointed at darkest corners of the alley. they looked where the child was pointing at, they saw two of the parents died in the same manner like Batman backstory , when the child look up at them still crying , they lift their arms and said “ c-can I-i *sob*have a-a hug?*sob* p-please” How would the batfamily react? Or what to do to calm the child reader

Batfam & male!reader - platonic

Batfam x little bat bro The batbro is a really quiet kid, not non-verbal, just hardly ever talks. He's just quiet all around, when walking, eating, doing whatever. He also likes to stare a lot. Just imagine the kid suddenly appearing in front of Bruce's desk , you can just see his little grabby hands and the upper part of his face, and he just stares. Definitely is the one to accidentally scare them with suddenly appearing even tho he's been here the whole time. The definition of this --->●_●

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Yk the one where batbro reader meets the justice league and the leave absolutely loves him? Could you do one with the young justice with Tim or teens titans with dick or the outlaws with Jason?

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Okay hear me out, reader x batfamily okay? The reader is 2nd youngest (like 14) and recently during a mission, they got sent to alternate reality where they’re a bad guy, and witnessed themself kill the batfamily? Obviously you don’t have to write out that part if it makes you uncomfortable, but any ways. Once they return they distant themselves from the family beacuse they’re scared they’re going to hurt the family and turn out like the other evil them? The batfamily has enough of this after a while and corners them and kinda pressures them into telling what’s going on with them, and the reader kinda breaks down and says what they saw and that they’re scared they’re going to hurt their family. The batfam comforts them and tells them that, their nothing like their evil self? Somethin like thattt

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Batbro rwader who gets the flu or has bad fever but refuses to rest and still wants to go on patrol? (2nd youngest like 2 years older than dami) PRETTY PLEASEEEEE

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Heyo, can I ask for a bat!bro reader who’s around 16 or 17 and they find out that he smokes and drinks? And sometimes some drugs. And he (tries to) hide it from everyone? If not it’s ok, and I hope ur doing good. Can’t wait to see what you write 🫶

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Hi! Could you do a Batfam x teen reader, where the reader does illegal street race, he sneaks out at night to go those race, and the Batfam found out about it ! Thank you ;)

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Can we get fic where male batbro x batfamily, where his school is having a field trip to Wayne enterprises? I’m not sure if you watch marvel or read marvel fics but it’s basically likes the ones where peters has a field trip to go stark industry’s. Anyways, so Bruce and Tim work their right? Tim is the co-ceo and Tom is just teasing him the whole time Tim gives a tour but when they took a break for the the kids to eat and stuff. Tim walks in on someone picking on batbro reader, the batbro reader doesn’t care that much but Tim does. Tim just gets protective of him and kinda threatens the bullies with a smile?

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Can you do a batfam x baby bro reader? Where Bruce puts reader in a Batman onesie and it was cute and when they boys see it they all start fighting, which turns physical quick, over who’s costume reader should wear a onesie of next

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

My latest obsession > motorcycles ,i know so many people call them death machines but i can't help but get heart eyes when i look at them, anyways i wanted to know how would the batfam react to the youngest family member batbro reader being like that? I'm especially curious about Bruce, will he buy a whole garage for his kid? Or try to steer his interest somewhere else? Also i think Jason will try to be reader's riding buddy <3

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Could you do a batfam x batbro reader? Where reader is the 2nd youngest and they all accidentally forget his birthday, and they see him all teary eyed and they all feel really guilty and go to apologize to him except plot twist, batbro also forgot that it was his birthday and was teary eyed because he saw a really emotional scene in a video game he was playing and it made him tear up

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Can I ask for a follow up on Australian bat!bro reader where he gets annoyed bc they won’t let him drink alcohol or smth? Here in Australia there is alot of underage drinking. (I mean I got high and tipsy at my 17th birthday party with parental permission💀) Just thinking about the culture shock most of them would get 😭

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Hey, I love your fics. I wanted to request a bat!bro reader who’s 16 where Bruce has split custody with his mum (he grew up with his mum and wanted split) but it turns out his mum was just using him to get money from Bruce and is kind of neglectful? And he always gives it to her bc he’s a mamas boy? Stay safe and don’t forget to stay hydrated <33

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Hello, I was wondering if you could do a Batfam x teen reader, who does figure skating?

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Hello, firstly I love your writings ! I was wondering if you could do a Batfam x teen reader, who is like the winter soldier from Marvel? He has a Metal arm and has been trained to be a weapon . Only if you want to, of course. have a good day !

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Could you do batfam x baby bat reader? Where reader is a tiny force of chaos who likes to run around and cause mischief, and the only person he’s perfectly behaved with (aside from Alfred) is Damian, and while the rest of the family is trying to figure out why, Damian is just being smug cause even as an infant his little brother obviously knows who his superior brother is

Batfamily & male!reader, PART 2 (requested by @stealing-kneecaps) - platonic

Hi, this is my first time asking here I really love your work and also the whole reason me going into the DC fandom really... Anyway, back to my request can you do like a fluffy interaction with the batfamily when child (male or gn) reader told them that they had a "boyfriend" at school. Not entirely sure if this is really you're cup of tea and if not you can ignore it.

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Hello I was wondering if you could write a teen male reader with the Batfam. The reader is super into technology and hacking stuff and kinda helps the fam in the background of mission Thanks you!

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Can you do a teen reader (younger than Damian by 1 or 2 years) x batfam, where he is spider man? (I mean kinda like miles morales, he has electricity powers but his webs are organic too and doesn’t need a web shooters.) he is Bruce’s biological child and his mother died, yk his canon event and what not. So he has to move to Gotham and isn’t happy about. Just distant and all. One night He sneaked out and bought a train ticket and went to New York, and was only spider man and just slept in somewhere. So the batfamily tracked him to New York, and while looking for him, they bump into him as spider man. They have to team up to find a villian but reafer gets hurt in the end and his mask fell off and they see it’s reader? They bring him and just have a talk when he wakes up and they come to conclusion for him to join the family in their fighting in Gotham?

Batfamily x male!reader - platonic

Hello author. I hope your having a splendid day May I request a reader x batfamily ( a year younger than Damian) They are a Demi god of lightning and electricity. He has been having a hard time with cases and failing and stuff like that, too much pressure. And he’s kind of hitting his breaking point. So during a fight with a villain, alone. The villain corrupts the reader and makes him evil. For a few months he became a villain and barely anyone could stop him. The batfamily at first didn’t know it was him but during a mission that was orders by the villain that corrupted him, to kill Althea (your oc) but Althea got away with injures but saw his face and told her mom and her mom told bats. So with this new information the batfamily were more devastated . With the help of the justice league the batfamily are in a show down with the reader, somewhere near a cliff and they fight and while also talking about their memories together. Reader was too powerful though and restrains everyone with use his electricity. His eyes are red and with dead eyes he walks towards any batfamily member of your choice and was about to deliver the final blow before the bat member looks at them and says ‘ I love you, my son/little brother’ reader hesitates and his eyes widens and filled with tears, the red disappearing. He’s of course confused and disoriented, he steps back and not notices the cliff. His mind coming back to me as he slowly lets his restaions of the others disappear. He steps back near the cliff and looks back into the abyss and back at his family and friends. With regret and a messed up mind right now thinking he won’t be forgiven, he purposely steps back and fall down the cliff. No one was fast enough to stop his fall and he dies. They retrieve his body and they’re just depressed and stuff for a while hut Damian won’t allow his only little sibling to die and takes his body to talia and he gets revived back. when he brings unconscious reader back, the batfamily are upset at him for doing a dangerous act but happy that it went well. Sorry it’s too long.

Batfamily x male!reader - platonic

HEYYY, firstly how are you! I wanted to ask if you could write about a teen male reader with the Batfam. He is kinda like the winter soldier if you know what I mean ( skilled fighter, metal arm..), since he lived with the Batfam he was doing a good mental recovery, but one day he goes back to winter soldier mode on the fam, and they try to get him back to normal again, idk Thanks you bye !

Batfamily x male!reader - platonic

Ok this one is mainly for Alfred but u could add batbros and batdad if u want, anyways i was wondering what would alfred (or any of the fam) do to stop BatToddler reader tantrum? Like i imagine the setting would be grocery shopping and Alfred's only getting healthy food including boring plain cereal and BatToddler is not having it and only wants sugar loaded cereal and starts whining and tearing up right there in the middle of the store, would alfred give in to those tears or find an alternative? I imagine batdad would give in and the brothers might even encourage it giving that they probably eat the same junk food

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

(Kind of self projecting sorry lol) SO! BabyBat has an upset stomach but Bruce's too anxious about giving him medicine because can his baby stomach handle those chemicals? Insert Alfred rolling up his sleeves "give him here master Bruce" a tired Bruce just hands him over without question and watches as alfred and baby head to the kitchen and suddenly...baby stopped crying? Bruce walks into the kitchen seeing flower stems on the counter and Alfred standing there with a sleeping baby "...How?" "Rosewater master Bruce, i made and fed him Rosewater" Not sure how to end this but basically BabyBat would only drink Rosewater from now on and Bruce has to upgrade his gardening game ,Alfred always has already-made Rosewater so his Grandson is always hydrated and the rest of batbros are just like "hell yeah my brother's too fancy for regular water" I hope you except my request and thank u! I love u

Batfamily x male!reader - platonic

I remember back when i was a few months old and still using a baby walker, I'll wake up early morning but my parents will be too exhausted to get up yet so my older sister will put me in the walker in front of the TV and turn on something like national geographic or anything about animals then I'm entertained for hours(might take a stroll around the livingroom but with my eyes still on the tv) even though i understood nothing lol, can i see something like that with batfam and babybat? I feel like this is something batbros will definitely do if they're too tired to entertain their baby brother but still want to hangout with him(they just end up open mouthed staring at the tv just like the baby < Bruce's favourite site in the morning)

Batfamily x male!reader - platonic

U know those adorable videos where big brothers are the most gentle and just keep picking up and kissing their baby sibling no matter if the baby was sleeping or not? I imagine babybatbro (triple B lol) will be napping next to Bruce in bed and then which ever batbro will come in and steal the baby with no explanation hehe, I'd like to see something like that with all 4 batbros please

Batfamily x male!reader - platonic

Artist toddler batbro! Can't help but draw/ paint at least once a day and at the end of the day batfam is anticipating who will be the lucky family member that'll receive which ever art piece their youngest has created that day (sometimes the art piece is on the walls or floor of the mansion but no one has the heart to be angry when little batbro is just proudly presenting his art) Toddler batbro *leaves a paint covered tiny handprint on the wall* Bruce: alfred, frame that

Batfamily x male!reader - platonic

I hope you don’t mind can I request a Batfam x Genius child male reader like child male reader is basically smart (and comes from a wealthy and influence family) and has higher IQ for someone so young (smarter than the rest of Batfam) Bruce met child male reader in the funeral when child male reader grandparents died leaving child male reader orphan because his parents also died. Somehow child male reader was strangely attach to Bruce even tho it's there first time meeting so he just walk up to Bruce and stare at him in wonder. Which also leads everyday male reader running away from home and going to Wayne manor because he wanted to stay close to Bruce and meeting the rest of family and which leads the male reader Butler (who's taking care of reader for time being until someone or close relative steps up and takes the role to raise reader) to apologize everytime when picks reader up from the Wayne manor. Reader already knows all the Batfam especially the Justice League secret identity with just one look at them. Male reader who is shy, quite (rarely ever makes a sound) and well mannered. Male reader has a habit of touching the technology of the bat cave or the Justice league base and knows how to fix them aswell

Batfamily & male!reader - romantic with Bruce Wayne

Hello, I hope you are doing alright! So I can have a kinda cross over idea for a teen male reader. a mix of Batfam and star wars. The reader is a Jedi padawan that had to flee towards the Earth after the Jedi were forced into hiding and the rest is up to you

Batfamily x male!reader

I love the Brazilian batboy fanfic, consider doing it with a Venezuelan batboy in the future please 🙌🏻

Batfamily x male reader

I wanted to ask for a Batbro who is the son of Bruce and Catwoman, he is the youngest in the family and very similar to Selina, he has the same tastes as his mother, he helps her with robberies, but when Selina is arrested by Batman, the family tries to convince younger brother that stealing is wrong - @eliz36545 and @leleolivr655

Batfamily x male!reader

Hiiii! I was wondering if u could do an male reader x batfam, where the reader is deaf and has to use sign language? P.s I love Ur work Requested by - randomperson3736

Batfamily x male!reader

I wanted to know if you could make another request for the Bat Brother that was created to be a weapon when the Black Canary said he was ready to go to school, Bruce put him in one, but a boy tried to intimidate him and the Bat Brother broke his arm. He still couldn't understand what he did wrong because of his training. - @eliz36545

Batfamily x male reader

Ummm hi I just wanted to ask if you know the Netflix series called The Queen's Gambit? If you know, can you make a story where the reader is Bruce's son Is a chest master. Where he beats everyone in his chess game. Well I would love it if you retained the Queen's Gambit title but if not that's fine too🤣.But in the middle of the story he was angry because someone had managed to beat him in his match so he became annoyed and locked himself in a room to find a strategy.To defeat the person who defeated him. If possible, the one that will distract the reader is the OC. Thank you. Sorry if there are too many requests hehe - @mooonbyyyyy

Batfamily x male!reader

Could you do "baby bat" where a killer tried to kill Bruce Wayne's youngest son when I saw that all the media and the family loved him but Titus was sleeping in his room and saw him and bit him to save the baby - @eliz36545

Batfamily x male reader

Yo, Can u write about Mexican! Batbro (same age or a year older than Damian, like Damian he's a biological son of Bruce) who celebrates dia de muertos, he could make an altar of Thomas and Martha Wayne, he could explain his roots and culture to the batfamily Yo, Can u write about Mexican! Batbro (same age or a year older than Damian, like Damian he's a biological son of Bruce) who celebrates dia de muertos, he could make an altar of Thomas and Martha Wayne, he could explain his roots and culture to the batfamily

Batfamily x male!reader

Hi idk if you're taking requests rn but can you please do if possible batfamily x male reader who's younger than dick but older than jason and he is really shy around batfamily because he came to the family after damian idk if this makes sense and while out on patrol an enemy injects him something that turned him into a toddler but he still has all his memory the rest is up to you im sorry if this doesn't make sense😭

Batfamily x male reader

Batfamily x male reader who likes to cuddle

Batfamily x male reader

Reader is a magic user (like the scarlet witch), he often uses his powers during his normal day to day life too He’s constantly found levitating off the ground while meditating, reading his spell book and using his powers to do simple things like making his bed etc However his powers has a side effect, his powers hurt him sometimes as every time his emotionally unstable or upset his powers can take over but the rest of the family doesn’t know cause he never told them he simply cuddled up to them One day after a bad argument the pain was too much to hold in and he desperately needed to let go of his powers to get rid of the energy However he couldn’t do that cause it could damage the manor and hurt the others so he tries to hold it in trying to deal with the pain He walked into the manor and looked for the first person he could find and simply hugged them They knew his love language was physical affection but they never knew it went so far as to stop him from having a magical melt down He tries to explained the issue to whoever he was holding on too and they started praising him and rubbing his back trying to make him calm down till they get to an open space where he can let go

Batfamily x male!reader

Hello can you please do more baby or toddler reader x batfamily if you can😭i just love them

Batfamily x male!reader

Hiiii! I was wondering if u could so a batfam x deaf male reader? Where everyone in the family knows sign language and all that. But during one of Bruce's galas the reader gets kidnapped and no one's knows until Damian notices that his younger brothers not there anymore? U can decide how u wanna finish it and its completely if Ur not comfortable writing it. Also I love Ur writing 😙 - requested by @loverrrgirlll45

Batfamily x male reader

Yo, could you make m!reader who’s the son of Bruce and Selina and him meeting the Batfamily? He’s like Damian’s age if not a year younger

Batfamily x male!reader - asked by @epilepticniparkiras

How about Batfam x male reader, where reader is Russian and has a slight accent, unless someone really pissed him off, that's when it really shows. Reader is always eloquent and kind, and you don't notice his accent unless you are really paying attention to the way he says certain words, but after a few galas where a fat businessman keeps insulting him somehow, and Damian or Jason are trying to defend Reader, but Reader just tells them no. When the fat businessman insults his brothers, Reader finally snaps and just goes full blown Michael Blackson Teacher style roast on him and his entire family in front of everyone, even his Russian accent comes out (I just think it would be funnier with the accent). After the gala is done, Bruce tries to scold the reader, but everyone is constantly trying to contain their laughter except Jason, as Reader finally snapping is the funniest thing that ever happened at a gala. Even Alfred can't bring himself to scold Reader for what he has done because he was there.

Batfamily x male!reader

Don't know if or when your asks will be open, but how about Batfam x male reader, where Reader is sarcastic and somehow pisses off Jason. Then Jason and the rest of the brothers decide to get Reader stoned to see what would happen and how he would behave. Fast forward 5 hours and the entire Batfam and the Justice League are trying to save the Reader from the Legion of Doom, only to find the abandoned warehouse and every villain unconscious from exhaustion or whatever because of the Reader and the Reader (stoned out of his mind) just dancing with one of the major villains to the song Rasputin. Later, when they bring Reader back to the manor, Alfred just tears the brothers a new one while Reader is still doing the most random things like Sheldon Cooper on coffee.

Masterlist

I don’t know how to make masterlists

DC

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Male reader x Bruce Wayne pt.2

Sneak peak Being Bruce’s husband wasn’t as easy as you thought there were a lot of difficulties in your life while being married to him.But

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Batfamily x batdad

Hey ya missed me Warnings: mentions of human sexual interaction why did I typed it like that? I’m getting sleep deprived… ————————————— S

“this is so us!”

Damian x male!reader

Male reader and Damian seeing a black cat hiss at them. The black cat moves in front of a brown one, seeming to protect it as its green eyes turn into slits. Damian glares at the black cat as you just stand behind him weirded out.

“Dude…it’s like..us. But cats.” You say jokingly, moving to the brown cat who seemed to warm up immediately to you. You cooed at it as Damian and the black cat still glare at each other.

“Dami stop it!” You say, the brown cat also hissed at the black cat as well. Making the two black haired/fur beings look at the two and behave. Damian scoffed as the cat just meowed deeply as well. Moving towards the brown cat who seemed to purr at the black one. You started to put the brown cat down.

Damian immediately grabs your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours as he just mumbles in Arabic. Probably cursing bout that cat, he loves animals. But that animal was an asshole.

But so was he.

Jason Todds family masterlist

Hello fellow Jason Todd lovers! You may find anything that has to do with Jason Todd and his big family I made up in my head on here (because I'm delulu, lol). I wanted everyone to feel like they're a part of my stories, which is also the reason that Y/N in these is not referred to as mom/mommy or dad/daddy by the kids, only as Y/N. Obviously you can refer to Y/N as either of those if you would like to, but I will not write it that way unless I come up with an OC (which I most likely won't unless I start a completely new story). If you have any ideas or want to know more information about Jason, Y/N, and their kids please send them in my asks! I'd love to answer them! 🫶🏼 I'd also love some options for the children, if you have any. I would also like to note that Y/N's body type is never mentioned, and plus size people are kept in mind because I, too, am plus size 🖤 p.s. most of these are incorrect quotes

How it started

A little laugh

A peek into their life

How it started + an add on

Before they were together

Their children <3

Masterpost for I am Not a baby!!(Yes you are)

The prompt  Ao3 link

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Danny's found a way to dodge GIW trackers, as well as his parents. Their equipment hunts ghosts, ghosts run on emotion; so as long as he keeps his under a tight lid and doesn't feel anything ever, they won't be able to track him.

It works!

He's able to run from them, and goes as far as New Jersey. The plan was to stow away on a ship, and go to literally any country that wasn't America. He goes to Gotham, which hosts the one harbor he knows where no one will ask any questions.

But because of how weird he acted (completely emotionless during a Joker attack), he was fingered by police immediately.

He's handed over to CPP. CPP doesn't know what to do with a teen literally so traumatized that they don't show any emotion at all, ever. He keeps just...walking out of his placements. Just leaves without a sound.

Luckily, he's always caught, due to those placement houses having quiet alarms and him refusing to run.

They call the one foster parent they know who does.

Bruce Wayne takes in the strange, nameless kid who refuses to talk.

On paper, they gave him the filler name of 'John Doe', for lack of anything better to do.

Bruce does everything he can to make the newest arrival feel at home. Damian, for as territorial as he is, actually breaks out of his shell sooner than expected just to try to get the new kid to speak. To emote. To do something. Duke tries the open approach, then tries the 'no one will ever know, everyone thinks I'm an innocent goody-two-shoes' approach. Nada.

Tim even tries to trick him into talking, but nothing works.

Enter Dick; Dick heard about Bruce's new ward, about the situation, and decided to see if he could get the kid to open up.

Danny though. Danny's in trouble.

The Wayne Manor is weirdly secure, and he can't just walk away like he did his other placements. He can't use ghost powers or the GIW and his parents will immediately know where he is.

He really, really wants to take Bruce up on his offer and just spend the day relaxing. Respond to Damian's attempts to provoke him. Overshare about space facts with Tim.

But most of all, he really, desperately wants to get in a Pun Competition with Dick. He wants to laugh at Dick's jokes, and learn coolass gymnastic tricks!

But he can't!

If he relaxes with Bruce, he'll be content, which is an emotion. If he argues with Damian, he'll get annoyed, which is an emotion. If he sneaks out with Duke and breaks the rules, he'll get happy, which, again, emotion. If he overshares with Tim, he'll get excited, which is, yet again, an emotion!

The worst sin of all, he can't even show proper appreciation of the food the Butler keeps making him!

And now there's even more people coming over!

There's a quiet girl who keeps reading his body language and trying to get him to dance ballet, a blonde girl who keeps trying to kidnap him to take him to BatBurger, a guy with a stripe of white who wants to take him to a shooting range, and it just...he really, really wants to!

He wants to do all these cool things with them!

But he fucking can't!

Stiles: [sobbing bc he can’t save the puppy* who is going to FREEZE in the cold]

Claudia and John, who know this is absolutely NOT a dog: [trying to wrestle the pup out of Stiles’ deceptively strong three-year-old grip]

*Derek, not a puppy but a wolf cub who is admittedly tiny for his age: [head empty no thoughts, enjoying the scent and warmth of Stiles’ scarf]

Talia, watching this all go down behind a tree: [plotting how to save her son for the FIFTH TIME THIS SKI SEASON who she’s beginning to suspect doesn’t want to be saved]

Role reversal au but shen Yuan gets temporarily de-aged into a 5 year old.. at first binghe is having the time of his life. His a-yuan got even cuter!! Everytime shen yuan grabs binghes robe and looks up at him with those big eyes and says "bing-gege?" Binghe wants to scream and cry and roll around on the floor from how CUTE it is

Them at qian Cao listening to the peak lord explain what curse shen yuan must have been hit with but neither of them can focus because shen yuan keeps trying to escape binghes hold and touch the medicine bottles

Unlike his adult disciple, baby shen yuan smiles wide without hiding behind a fan, tells binghe what he wants to eat instead of saying he's fine with anything, holds out his arms for hugs and cuddles 24/7... its heaven until shen yuan asks where his family is

Binghe: you... never mentioned your family

Shen yuan: oh I have a mom and a dad and da-ge and er-ge and meimei !! Meimei is only one year old and she just learned how to call me ge :D

Binghe: aww :) okay, your friend Shang qinghua is from your hometown I'll ask him where your family is :)

Shang qinghua: Okay so the thing is........... um.....

Shen Yuan sobbing uncontrollably all night because his family isn't "in this world." No amount of hugs or snacks will make him calm down. Binghe wondering how he didn't know something like that about his favourite disciple.

When shen yuan turns back to his normal adult body, binghe tentatively brings the topic up. Shen yuan opens his fan and casually says "shizun need not worry, this disciple is no longer a child." Binghe doesn't push but he does stay awake at night wondering how much pain shen yuan doesn't share with anyone else

I am never animating anything again this took me 2 days, plus i caught a cold.

But despite that I finished it and I’m okay happy with the result, so i consider it a win!

I love the idea of Snape being the most amazing baker ever because of his potion skills.

He makes Lily a cake nearly every year when they are at Hogwarts because he can’t afford to get her anything else, she doesn’t mind and looks forward to the cake every year. Sometimes if she’s really upset he will make her cupcakes and wish her a ‘happy quarter till your birthday’ to make her laugh

Xenophilius asks Snape help to raise money to save Dragons from being used as training devices. Severus just sighs but shows up to the event with just an obscene amount of fucking cookies. They all sell out, he lied and said Xeno made them because he knew if he said he did people would think they were poisoned, but it wasn’t until the next day that Xeno hears this and corrects someone who complimented his baking skills. Minor freak out, but people ask Severus to bake for them too once in a white for money, especially younger year students who miss their mothers treats.

Snape on multiple occasions have left a wolfsbane potion/Healing potion, and protein based cookies shaped in dog bones near his hospital bed or desk. Remus in retaliation brags about how Snape makes him cookies every month.