For the first time in your life, you actually saw red. And that wasn’t just a reference to the crimson liquid dripping down the side of your son’s face, a trail from his cheek to the puddle of blood staining the batcave’s floor. “Damian?” you choked out in a strangled voice. “It’s Robin, when I’m in outfit, mother,” he chided you. Your eyes narrowed and you swept over to him. “It’s Damian when you’re bleeding all over the floor,” you hiss as you ducked down to his level and began tilting his head this way and that, trying to distinguish between all the bumps and bruises and blood and scarring etched into his face. You weren’t a doctor. You couldn’t tell what was broken or what wasn’t. All you knew was that your son, Damian, the artist, the animal lover, was broken in front of you and it was- “Bruce,” you manage to growl out. “What the fuck happened?” From the Batcomputer, Bruce straightened and looked at you concerned. Looked. At you. Concerned. Damian was a bloody Jackson Pollock painting of injuries and Bruce was worried about you??? “The Joker.” Bruce said briefly, Batman all over. “There’s no broken bones. The rest of the kids-” You stood up abruptly. The others.  You hadn’t even thought about-“They’re fine,” Damian cut in, worry in his eyes now too. Why was everyone looking at you like you were the crazy one?? “Do they look like you as well?” You asked him in a slightly higher pitched voice than normal. Slightly higher. Definitely not near a screech. But Bruce was moving from his chair towards you so maybe you weren’t as good at lying to them as you were yourself. Bruce’s fingers brushed the outside of the arms you had crossed over your chest. “This is what they’ve been trained for.”“Damian is twelve.” “Almost thirteen,” Damian muttered, but he was stepping back. Emotions scared him. “Damian is an assassin.” “And you’re supposed to be helping him past that,” you snapped. Jason made a noise behind you as the three other boys and Cass wandered out of the showering area. “Domestic dispute?” Jason said casually. “Relationship not working out with the Batman? Shocker.” Tim and Dick gave him matching looks while Cassandra eyed you up carefully. You stared back in wonder. Even Cass - even Cassandra Cain - was bruised to high hell. What the hell had the Joker done?“What. The. Hell?” you spat out. The Family froze. Then in the same breath they all started talking. It’s what we do. Today we saved lives. We’re sorry. But you couldn’t hear anymore. “I want this to stop,” you declared, and then strode out of the batcave, now cloaked in silence and fear. 

Send me Batman/Batfamily prompts, headcanons and imagines!

Omg I’m so sorry this took so long to reply to! I left this blog for ages after my brother died and have only recently started coming back. I still feel guilty though :(. 

Anyway... I guess the way I’d see it is.. if you still want my opinion.. 

Ooh okay so I couldn’t choose one, so first have a spattering of how I think each of the Batfam would react. (I’m asexual too so like this is something I think about a lot), and then I chose the one I liked best and wrote it out into the ficlet you wanted~ Bruce: So Bruce has trouble communicating how he feels. He uses sex to show how he feels, at the same time he shows you every part of himself, all his scars and bruises and broken bones, he’s completely vulnerable to you. But that doesn’t work for you?? Bruce can’t just say ‘I love you’, every possible line he could use just sounds like Brucie(TM). He can’t fall back on that persona, not if he cares about you, but he doesn’t have any real experience in a real relationship, he just doesn’t have the background. And then when you start with the compliments and the flirting he’s genuinely flustered because people never compliment the real Bruce, it’s only ever Brucie who gets compliments like that, and Batman only get compliments on his detective skills or his ability to dodge a punch. Dick: I’m totally here for demisexual Dick. Dick who sort of gets where you’re coming from, and is totally 100% supportive like he likes cuddling more than anyone and watching movies together and he’s totally okay if you don’t want to have sex and if you compliment him or whatever he’ll just grin wider like he’ll spend most of his time teasing and complimenting you. Jason: I feel Jason has a sort of ‘words are cheap, actions mean everything’ sort of disposition so like Jason would use sex, the intimacy of it, to prove he loves you and it’d be hard because sex isn’t a declaration of love for you, it’s a declaration of...biological urges. It takes effort and you’d never get into the moment like Jason would (depending on what type of asexual you are; I’m autochorissexual if you’re wondering) and so you’d have to try and prove to him that a kind word or kiss or interest in your day meant much more to you than a good fuck. Of course you saying all those nice things to him would probably reduce him to a mess, like why can’t you just be stoic and like nod at him or something it’s basically the exact same thing. Tim: Honestly I see Tim treating it as a problem to be solved, like he’d come to you and be like ‘okay so this site says some asexuals like non-sexual bathing together or full body massages or-’ and he’d put in way more thought into it than even you did. Barbara: She’d probably be just as into the researching as Tim, but she’ll be way more delicate than Tim, like Tim would probably make a dossier and collaborate with you over it, whereas Babs would do it on the sly, like ‘oh maybe we should do some naked body painting tomorrow’ and act completely nonchalant as she offers you all these things you want. Cassandra: Cassandra would probably be really confused like she has a black and white view of a relationship and sex is a part of it so she’s probably be really worried when you didn’t immediately push for sex all the time and then maybe she’d think she’d misread the relationship like she reads body language and even though you’d kissed and all, your body language never matches those of the horny men and women she’s seen on dates and she’d be so worried that she’d screwed up and one day she’d confront you about it and you’d have to slowly explain it all out to her and even then she’d be skeptical but yeah. She’s also fit into the being flustered when you start complimenting her and running fingers through her hair and all. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~I decided to do Bruce because reasons. And genderless!reader because it seems weird to constrict yourself to one gender and potentially alienate a bunch of readers, or cause any trans readers (like myself~) to feel dysphoria while reading a ficlet that was targeted to the opposite gender. It’s up to you whether you want to say that you and Bruce had had sex before and then you’d come out as asexual or not, it really depends how sex-repulsed you are~~Bruce has seemed...off, since you admitted to him you were asexual. You honestly hadn’t thought he’d be surprised. It’s not like you hid it. It’s not like you even knew how to hide it. It was a part of you, it always had been a part of you. And he was supposed to be a detective right? The greatest in the world? So didn’t he notice when your eyes didn’t dilate enough, or your breath didn’t quicken like it was supposed to, or whatever? Sure, you were head over heels for him so maybe your lovestruckness came off as lust? Anyway, he seemed distant. And it wasn’t because he was off-put, you didn’t think... he just seemed confused. As if you had given him some complex problem in a cryptic code written in a language that was not from Earth about a subject that didn’t even exist in our small section of the universe. He seemed...dazed. You reach over to tuck a piece of his hair behind his ear as he sits next to you on the couch as the tv plays something unimportant. He gives you a smile, calm, patient, tv-ready. Fake. You raise an eyebrow and he gives you an apologetic look. “Hi,” you say to start the conversation. “Hello,” he replies, his voice a deep timbre of amusement. You look at him for a second before deciding to make a move. You stand up and drop yourself into his lap. He looks up at you in surprise, his hands coming, probably instinctively, to your waist. “Hello,” he says again, and you smile and nuzzle his neck. “Hi.” He shifts uncomfortably under you. “You don’t have to-” “I want to,” you cut him off, a quick bite at the pale flesh under you. “Just because I’m not into the whole sex thing like 90% of the population doesn’t mean I don’t do things.” “What things,” he asks, curious despite himself. “Well,” you try, dropping your head against his chest. “I like kissing.”“Mmm?” “And this,” you press a hand over his heart. “I like listening to your heartbeat.” And Bruce, honest-to-god, blushed at you. Your mouth dropped open at him as he tried to formulate a reply. “I-” he began. “Okay.” You grin and lean in, pressing kisses to the blooming patches of red on his cheeks. “And I love this,” you admit cheekily. “My cheeks?” “You’re blushing.”Bruce straightens imperceptibly. “I’m not,” he protests. You snort. “You’re adorable.” The red in his cheeks deepen. “I’m a billionaire playboy,” he reminds you. “I’ve also taken on the worst scum this city has to offer. I am not-”“Adorable,” you reiterate. “Absolutely adorable.” I started writing a Batwoman meta paragraph as well, then panicked cos I don’t really know her well enough and deleted it... Send me Batman/Batfamily prompts, headcanons and imagines!

Timeline is a bit skewed in this...Dick’s only recently a police officer, idk I haven’t read classic Nightwing since I was in primary school so I’m a little out of it... Jason’s feet were in your lap. “The mini-series version was so much better,” Jason complained about the Pride and Prejudice movie. You secretly agreed but- “You just miss Colin Firth.” Jason snorted but didn’t object. “I miss the extra three hours of plot,” he said instead. You roll your eyes at him dramatically just as your apartment door opens and the very attractive Officer Grayson made his presence known. You can’t help the snort at his outfit though. Your Dick Grayson, a police officer. Your Nightwing, one of the boys in blue, the same men the Bat Family typically were competing against, or at the very least secretly judging and spying on. And in Bludhaven, of all places. Gotham wasn’t messed up enough for him? He gave you a pout. “You’re going to have to stop laughing at the uniform at some point,” he told you. “I only snorted that time!” Dick made a noise and slipped on the couch next to you, waving Jason’s feet off your lap. He sat up too. “At least it’s better than his disco outfit.” “Ooh, yeah,” you agree with wide eyes and a fake shudder. “If he’d been wearing that abomination when we’d met...” You shudder again. “Laugh it up,” Dick said, taking a swipe from the half-empty bowl of popcorn on the coffee table in front of you. “You’re just lucky there’s no such thing as the fashion police,” you tease. Jason scoffs. “What, so he could go undercover as one of them as well?” “I’m not undercover,” Dick tells you both patiently for the hundredth time. “This is my life now.” Jason waves him off with a “Whatever”. “What are we watching?” Dick asked, clearly trying to change the topic as he stretched and slung an arm over your shoulders.“Smooth,” you said flatly. Your gaze turned to the television. “The Pride and Prejudice movie, supposedly. We’ve mostly been trying to plan an intervention about your whole police thing.” Jason grinned lopsidedly at you. “We were going to invite Barbara and Kori, but we thought having them both in the same room might make your red hair fetish horribly obvious.” You tug at your own hair and scowl at him. “That’s how you know it’s true love,” he comforted you. You make a noise. “I don’t have a fetish,” he complains. “It’s alright,” you comfort him. “I have a fetish for attractive non-powered costumed heroes who jump off buildings at a moments notice.” You lean towards Jason suggestively. “Luckily I only really know two of them.” Dick pulls you back closer to him protectively. “Lucky you’re mine,” he finished for you.You grin up at him, interlacing your fingers with the hand around your shoulders. “Lucky,” you agreed in false solemnity. 

I saw a comic where Jason reads Pride and Prejudice and now I will never let it go. Full disclosure. I haven’t actually watched the 2005 movie version of Pride and Prejudice...Is it good? Like I really do prefer mini-series of classics over the movies but idk. Also I totally didn’t type Nightwang for a second there....

Send me Batman/Batfamily prompts, headcanons and imagines!  

For the purposes of this fic, you all love Ben 10 as much as I do. You blink sadly at the tv. The Ben 10 reboot was a failure. You stretch loosely over the back of the far-too-big couch in the far-too-big room in front of the far-too-big television and sigh. Jason blinked down at you and you made a startled noise and almost fell off the couch. You glare up at him as he chuckles smugly.“Having fun?” You scowl at the television. “I finally found a Ben 10 series I don’t love.” “You know you’re a grown woman, right?” he asked carefully.You roll your eyes at him.  “You know you’re supposed to be a hardened criminal, oh JaneAustenFan_No1?” Jason smirked backed unflappably. “Jane Austen wrote timeless classics.” You shook your head. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” “You expect Jase to be on time?” Dick asked, sticking his head into the room. Jason folded his arms. “I’m more orderly than you.” “My room is perfect,” Dick retorted. “Just the way it is.” You snort. It was an old argument. “And where are you boys off to?” Dick shrugged casually. “Drug bust.” “Right.”“We’ll be careful,” Dick cut you off at the pass. “Ri-ght.” You stand up and put your arms on your hips to give him one of your skeptical looks. Dick gave you a quick hug. “We’ll see you later,” he said as he exited, heading towards the Bat Cave. You sigh at the empty doorway before shooting Jason a look. “Be careful. Make sure Dick doesn’t do anything too stupid.” Jason stuck his hands in his pockets. “Sure thing, mom.” There was a sudden silent tension as Jason looks at you in fear. You blink back at him and your jaw dropped. Any other time, any other tone of voice, and you would’ve assumed he’d been joking, super sarcasm at work. “I-” Jason shook his head alarmedly, eyes dropping to the floor. “I meant-” “It’s fine!” You cut him off loudly and far too exuberantly. “It’s good! I-it’s great.” You nod to yourself. “Perfect.” He was looking at you again, a suspicious look on his face, eyes evaluating you. You smile innocently and reach out a hand, squeezing his arm gently. “Be careful,” you told him again. Jason’s eyes followed your hand and he tried a shaky grin in reply. “Bye.” He paused, looking into your face as if to parse how you’ll react. “Mom?” Your smile widened and you petted his head once. “Bye son.” Omg I had to write ‘mom’, I’m a failure as a student of the British variant of English. Send me Batman/Batfamily prompts, headcanons and imagines!

I like how Batmum (I’m Australian, I’m sorry I can’t do ‘mom’, at least not in the author’s note) is an actual Bat!fandom trope. We’re all self-insert losers. Hopefully this doesn’t deviate too far from the prompt, I sort of went more ‘Batmum is attacked, saved and then alternatively severely reprimanded and given lots of emotional support by the batfamily’.And honestly…what were you thinking? Dark street. Alone. Gotham. Alone. Gotham. Dark street. Gotham. Gotham. You really should have known better. And as the three bizarrely stereotypical D-Grade henchmen beared down on you as menacingly as they would in the beginning of a really cliched superhero movie, you realised that if Bruce ever found out about this you were literally going to be locked in the Bat Cave the rest of your short, fragile life. “Hello pretty lady,” one of them leered. “Shudd’up,” said another. “That’s Wayne’s gal.” Gal. Was this the fifties? Well if their sexist opinion that you were Wayne’s property- About to die. You were not going to end it evaluating the misogyny of your would-be murders. “Ransom?” asked the third guy who seemed even less bright than the first two. “Ransom,” the leader confirmed as he grabbed your arm.  Scream, don’t scream, scream, don’t scream? It really showed how long you’d been spending with the Bats that you were just as worried about Batman finding out about this, than the actual kidnapping. “I wouldn’t,” you began coolly, despite your terror. Wow, Bruce really had rubbed off on you. Of course, not enough to incapacitate these three thugs but… You need to start paying attention. The man glared at you. “And we should care what you think because…?” “It’s not her you should be worried about,” came a voice from above. You grinned to yourself, looking down at the floor. Jason. He’d keep this away from the others. A secret. You could bribe him with books. You close your eyes, ignoring the pained grunts and begging and- Silence. You reluctantly open your eyes again. The three men were bloody and unconscious on the floor in front of you. You feign nonchalance, which really shows how far you’ve come. Nonchalance in the face of kidnapping. Jason, suited up, tilted his masked head towards you. The red helmet masked his expression but you smiled faintly at him anyway, rubbing the spot on your arm where the leader of the gang had had his arm ripped away from you when Jason had descended. “I’ll give you a first edition Jane Austen if you don’t tell,” you offered. Red Hood looked over the scene, a beam of light glinting off the edge of the helmet. “You think this is a joke?” he asked finally in a strained voice. You froze, arm still scratching at the spot the man had grabbed. “You could have been hurt!” Jason took a deep breath to collect himself and offered you a hand. “I’m taking you to Batman,” he said firmly. You had a feeling pouting or complaining wouldn’t work. “Okay,” you said softly. Jason hadn’t let go of you the whole way back, and his arm was wrapped loosely around you as he lead you up the steps to the Bat Computer, yet it felt more like a leash as you walked up to your (probable) doom. You didn’t say anything though. Jason had been silent the whole ride back and you were honestly more worried about him than the bad guys. “Bruce,” Jason called to the chair. The chair swiveled. Damian raised an eyebrow at the two of you. “Father is out,” he said clearly. He gave you and him an odd look. “Though I doubt he’d appreciate you-”“She was attacked,” Jason interrupted him. It was almost hilarious. Damian’s mouth faltered and his eyes widened and he looked at you in disbelief, probably finally taking in your messy hair and your complexion, paler than normal due to shock and fear and who knows what else.Then he jumped off the chair. “Where are they?” he demanded. “I’ll-”“In custody,” Jason cut him off. “I made sure of that.”“You should have made sure they went to the morgue,” Damian retorted as he approached you, eyes examining your body. “Are you injured?” he asked you directly. You shake your head, absentmindedly rubbing your arm. Damian picked up on that and grabbed your top, dragging you towards the medbay section of the cave. “He just grabbed me,” you protested. “It probably won’t even bruise-”“You let one of them touch her?” Damian snapped at Jason as he manhandled you onto the slab to check your arm. “I got there a little late.” Damian huffed. “She should have a guard on her at all times,” he criticised as he poked your arm. “I’ve told father this before.” “Yeah, it’s a shame the concept of privacy is a thing,” came a cocky voice from the section above them. You and Jason looked up to see Dick resting casually against the railings above you. Dick looked back at you and then his expression changed and he jumped down, landing lightly next to Damian. “What happened?” he asked seriously, all humor gone from his voice. You sigh, well put upon. “I was just-” “Attacked,” Damian almost screeched. Dick stepped closer and cupped your face in his hands. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you? Do you want me to call-” “Jason let one of them grab her,” Damian tattled as he pressed on the skin where your arm had been grabbed. Apparently satisfied nothing was broken, he stepped away and let Dick crowd you in. “I saved her life, didn’t I?” Jason replied, arms folded as he leant against the wall. “Some thugs tried to attack me,” you cut in. “Jason stopped them. I’m not hurt, and no, please, please, don’t call anyone.” “She doesn’t want Bruce to know,” Jason clarified. “What?!” Damian sounded outraged. “Of course Father needs to know! How else will those criminals get the punishment they deserve?”“I already punished them,” Jason reminded him brusquely. “Not well enough if they’re still breathing.” “You want Batman to go kill them?” You were beginning to wonder whether you should be worried for your attackers. You sighed aloud pointedly, interrupting Damian’s retort.  “Can I go now?” “No,” the three boys said in unison. You gave Dick a betrayed look. “I just want to sleep.” Dick shifted into his ‘big brother’ mode. “We should probably wait for Bruce to get home first,” he said gently. “He’ll probably have more of an idea of what to do.” “People get attacked every d-”“Not in this household they don’t.” Damian. You waited for Jason to pipe in about how they just sought out trouble, but it didn’t come. “I technically don’t live he-”“You’re a part of this family,” Jason. And wow wasn’t that something from the black sheep of the house? You looked down. “So you’re just going to make me sit here until Bruce comes home?” “If that what it takes,” Damian said. Dick sighed reluctantly. “Come on up into the house,” he offered. “Alfred was making dinner.”You nodded, because you’d become really really uncomfortable during this conversation. Besides, you’d left your apartment in search of food anyway. Since Bruce was at a meeting, you’d mutually decided to meet up later on it the night. Oh, you’d probably have to text him, let him know you were already at the mansion, you though to yourself as Dick led you, hand on your arm, gently to the Bat Cave’s Mansion entrance. Apparently the kids had a thing with touching to reassure themselves, which was weird, right? Considering how not touchy feel-y Bruce’s parenting style was…. Maybe that was why? You let him take you up through the house and into the lavish dining room. You took your regular seat, ignoring the slight twinge at Bruce’s seat being empty. You were shaken up, and seeing Bruce’s intimidating form loom over you, full of power and strength, would’ve taken some of the weight off you. Especially if he held you close and whispered something romantic…It’d almost be worth how pissed off he’ll be. The boys took various seats around you. You smiled across at Damian, who was still eyeing you like you were about to burst into tears at any given second. You raised an eyebrow at him - a look you’d admittedly learnt by studying him. “How was your day?” you asked, for lack of anything else to do. Damian scoffed. “The children at that school are morons.” You sit back in your seat. “So you keep telling me.” “Oh,” Tim said as he and Cassandra entered the room. He looked at you. “I thought you were coming over later.” You shot a pleading glance at Damian that went unheeded. “She was attacked.”Cassandra was over by your side in a flash, glaring at you blankly as her eyes swept over you. “I’m fine,” you mumbled. Tim slid into a spare chair and got out his tablet. “Do you know the names of the attackers?” He open the Gotham PD’s database. “They were arrested earlier,” Jason offered up, along with the time and place and you’d stopped listening because Cassandra was still looming over you. It was times like this you could really see the resemblance between her and Bruce. “I’m fine,” you muttered again at her. She gave you a skeptical look, but went and took her seat next to Jason. “Barbara will be here soon,” Dick told you, probably trying to break the weird tension. Or maybe distract you from Tim reading out the thugs’ police record in an increasingly angered voice, along with Jason and Damian actually agreeing that maybe they should go back and beat them up a little more. You really didn’t want to know. You smile at him, apparently going for the record of Fake Smiles in an 120 minute time frame. “How is Babs?” you asked genuinely. “I haven’t seen her for a while.” He shrugged sheepishly. “You know the Oracle,” he said. You grin back just as Alfred entered the room. “Oh,” he said, startled. “Miss-” “I was attacked,” you interrupted dryly, knowing it was going to happen either way. “I’m fine, the guys are in police custody and now I’m here.” You shrug and make a show of turning back to Dick. “I see,” Alfred said. “I’ll make sure to prepare another bowl for you.” He left the room. You looked down guiltily, wondering if you’d been too harsh. “He works for Bruce,” Dick comforted you. “He’s used to it.”Your lips twist into a parody of a smile. “Yeah.”  Dick’s phone made a noise and Dick jumped lightly to his feet. “Babs is here.” Then he rushed off. Sourly you bet to yourself that Dick was going to spill the beans to her. You turned your gaze to smile at Tim, who was evaluating you with what was apparently the Concerned Bat ™ look. You stuck out your tongue at him. “I have lived in Gotham all my life, you know.” “Concern is natural,” Damian scolded you. As if you were the bad guy here. “Aw, you’re so cute,” you told him, resting your head in your hand as you gazed at him in mock adoration. “You’re worried about me.” Damian’s eyes flashed dangerously. “You’re important to Father,” he said, waving away your teasing. “Liar.” You shook your head as Alfred returned with the food on a tray and began serving it out. Damian scowled at you. “Thanks Alfred,” you said as he placed your food in front of you, hoping your smile would convey apology if you’d upset him earlier. He gave you a smile back just as Babara entered the room, Dick’s hands resting on the back of her wheelchair. Barbara’s eyes narrowed in on you and your back straightened. “I’m-”“Fine,” Barbara said dryly. You gave her a look. What happened to the girl code of honor? “Exactly,” you said primly. “Honestly I don’t treat you guys like this when you come back bleeding and half dead.” “We’ve all had training,” Barbara reminded you as Dick moved a chair against the wall so that she could move up to the table. “Then give me training.” The words were out of your mouth before you’d thought them through and all eyes were on you in an instant. “Or,” you added carefully, “accept that this is something that is going to happen from time to time since I live in one of the most crime ridden cities in America and am dating the richest man in said city.”“You think this was targeted?” Tim interrupted, face pale.You sigh to your plate of food. This whole night was a disaster. Maybe you could sneak away to bed and sleep it off. Would they still care tomorrow? Maybe they’d realise they were overacting. Deep down you had a feeling it was the opposite, and that you really needed to cut them off at the pass now before you ended up wearing a bulletproof vest to work. “Definitely not,” you informed them. “They didn’t realise who I was till after the…” Grabbing? Attack? What was the least frightening word?“But they did recognise you?” Jason pressed. “I’m dating the most famous non-criminal man in the city,” you point out. “Yes, they recognised me.” You punctuate the sentence by biting into your food. There was silence and the others began carefully eating too, but there was an atmosphere of retrospection in the air. They were all planning something. Not good. The meal continued with barely a word spoken, a few inquires into health and well-being and activities and all. You stretch as you put down your fork. “Well, I think I’m going to-” You falter to a stop as your gaze hits the doorway. “Bruce,” you said softly. His arms were folded and his expression was blank as he, like all the other Bats had, stared at you, assessing you. You clear your throat, the other bats at the table not saying anything. “What happened to your meeting?” “I cancelled.”“But-” “Alfred called.” Your mouth dropped open. “Betrayal,” you whispered hoarsely, eyes darting around the room for the missing butler. Bastard. Bruce’s mouth twitched. “Why didn’t you call me?” “I meant to,” you told him honestly. Not about the incident per say… but the intention had been there. “It’s not my fault you have so many kids.” Bruce looks at you, and if this had been your first meeting, you’d only have seen the repressed anger, the judgment, but you know better now, you can see the worry in his eyes, in his body, and perhaps, if you weren’t being wishful, the desire to hug you, hold you close, just like you’d been thinking too. You had to be careful about this too. You couldn’t quite shake it off like you did with the kids. “No injuries,” you offer up. “So I heard.”“Right. From Alfred,” you said bitterly. Bruce turned and left the room, a clear unspoken invitation - demand?- for you to follow. You looked around the table pleadingly. Damian glared back defiantly, Dick, Tim and Jason suddenly incredibly invested in their food. Cassandra looked at you curiously while Babara gave you a calming smile. You stand up, chair scraping against the floor noisely. “Thanks guys,” you say sarcastically as you leave. “Bruce,” you say in your gentlest tone as you entered his study. He’d already reached the window in true dramatic fashion. He looked up at you, eyes dark. You sigh and hold up your hands as you approach him. “I’m sorry for not calling.” “You think that’s why I’m angry.” “I think you’re worried about me,” you corrected. Bruce’s hands fell to your shoulders as he pulled you close, sliding down to rest on the small of your back. The long-awaited hug. You hum happily and rest your head on his chest. “I am,” he said finally. “Hmm?” This was nice. Bruce was warm and felt so safe, so calming. “Worried about you.” You snort. “Thanks.” His hand cupped your chin and made you look into his eyes. “I mean it.” Your lip quirked. “I feel that’s an unfair double standard coming from a guy whose regular day involves at least five automatic rifles aimed at his head.” He huffed. “I have training.”“Everyone has training,” you mutter. “You shouldn’t have been wandering the streets.”“It’s where you get food in my area.”“Your area should be here.” You blink at him. “Are you…asking me to live here?” He gave you an annoyed look. “I’m saying you should already live here.”“You don’t ask girls to live with you often, do you?” “Only you,” he confirmed. “And Cassandra.”You snort. “Bit of a difference.” He ducked his head down and kissed you gently. “Obviously,” he chided. “I’m not going to be let out of this house for a while, am I?” “Not a chance.” Ordinarily I would have stopped this at the 1,300 word mark but the idea of that ending came to mind with the Bruce and the hugging and the kiss and so I powered through to over 2700 words. Hope it was worth it~Apparently I’m still not strong enough to do the whole [name] thing. I just can’t do it. It ruins the flow for me, idk. I find most people overuse them, you know? Like you’ll be like “[your name] twirls her [hair length][hair colour] as she looks her [eye colour] eyes in the mirror.” Totally takes me out of the moment. Send me Batman/Batfamily prompts, headcanons and imagines!

Woo, first back-to-blog ficlet~ Bruce bit back just the slightest breath as he shifted on the bed. His leg was, for lack of better wording, mildly shredded. Nothing that wouldn’t heal.... or at least be overcomeable, in the next few days, but in the meantime Bruce was left with the rather odd position of having nothing to do. Alfred had reorganised his schedule, and so the day was as empty as the public assumed his nights were. So Bruce was enjoying some time to himself for once, and had decided to use it to relax. Rereading Sun Tzu’s Art of War in the original Chinese dialect and comparing it, mentally, of course, to the English translation based off the earlier Japanese translation. “How’s your leg?” came a cocky voice from his bedroom door. Bruce didn’t spare a look. “It’s fine,” he said, only mildly annoyed. “Healing as expected.” Dick sighed dramatically and dropped himself onto the bed, trying to get a look at the title of the book. Dick’s eyes narrowed as he tried to make out the Hànzì. “You know that Alfred told you to relax, right? Not read up old military tactics from long dead strategists.” Bruce was at once annoyed that Dick was mothering him, and worried about just how long it had taken Dick to read the title. He must be falling behind in his studies. Bruce made a mental note to add some more Chinese into “This is how I relax,” he said instead. Dick sighed exaggeratedly and stretched, falling back on the bed and ending up with his head against Bruce’s hip. “You know you could spend time with your family. It’s not like it’s out of your way.” Bruce smiled, just slightly, and tapped Dick’s forehead. “I am spending time with my family.” Dick pouted. “Because I sought you out.” “Exactly.” Bruce told him. “If my family wants to spend time with me, they can come find me.” Dick made a disgruntled noise, and got out his phone. Bruce returned to his book. The bed shifted slightly, and Bruce tilted his head to look into the dark eyes of Cassandra, before she rolled over and ended up on the unused pillow, her legs coming to rest on top of Dick’s stomach carefully. Bruce frowned slightly, but said nothing. His bed was king sized, after all, there was more than enough space for him and the children. Cassandra lay motionless on the bed as Dick continued to click through his phone. Bruce turned a page as Jason sauntered into the room, hands in his pockets. “So this is where the cool kids are hiding,” Jason commented dryly. Dick looked up from his phone. “Well now that you’re here, the coolness level has drastically fallen.” Jason gave him a look. “Smooth line, Boy Blunder.” Dick made a noise. “As smooth as that nickname, Red.” Jason sat on the edge of the bed, leaning against the wooden frame. “Hey, don’t diss the classics.” “I’m not,” Dick said innocently. “I’m dissing you.” Jason snorted. “So glad I came back from the dead for this.”“You came back for me?” Dick asked, in too good a mood to let Jason ruin it. “Aw you romantic you.” Jason rolled his eyes and shifted so his legs were draped over Dick’s ankles. Dick pouted. “Why is everyone using me as a leg rest?”Cassandra raised an eyebrow at him, and Jason gave him a look of innocence. “Oh is that you I’m resting on? I thought it was a sack of dirty laundry.”“That doesn’t even make sense.” Dick returned to his phone. Jason made a noise. “Your face doesn’t make sense,” he muttered as he retrieved a small book from one of his many pockets and began to read. “A perfect retort,” came a condescending voice from the door. “Thanks for the invite,” Tim added, following Damian into the room. Dick lazily grinned at them. “We’re testing your bat-homing skills.” Damian gave him a blank look. “That’s not a thing,” he said derisively.Dick covered his mouth with wide eyes. “Oh, right! You’re only a Pup-Level Bat. You’ll learn about it after Bruce makes you live in a non-advanced Bat Cave for a month.” He shuddered dramatically. “I still have nightmares.” The corner of Bruce’s mouth twitched but he refused to be drawn from his book. “You better text Barbara,” Damian told him as he slid onto the bed next to Dick as Tim moved to lie in one of the huge unfilled spaces on the bed. “She’ll never forgive you for letting her miss a ‘family bonding moment’.” Bruce finally dropped the book onto his stomach. Family bonding moment? His eyes swept over the scene, Dick and Damian resting against his side, Cassandra and Jason, their legs brushing against each other only slightly on Dick’s stomach - Jason deciding to take up as much space on his leg rest as possible, and Tim tapping on his iPad and laughing at Jason and Dick’s bickering. Family bonding moment, he confirmed to himself as Cassandra stopped Jason from tackling Dick and Tim and Damian death stared at each other. Bruce made a pleased noise and returned to his book. Originally I wrote it so that Dick couldn’t read the book’s title and just guessed that it was a military book but then I thought I should check that Dick couldn’t speak Chinese otherwise my mini rant would be, while fun, wrong and then it turned out he could speak Chinese so I altered it a bit~ 

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Thank you!!! I’m really glad you’ve been enjoying this blog, especially since I only have seven posts in total~ 

Hey~ I asked wowjeena if she wanted ordinary!reader or not, and she said ordinary, which I’m totally not bitter about because it’s not as if I had a great starting line about how facing down ninjas were better than coming out to the BatFam about their relationship. Once again, there’s no specific reference to gender about the reader, so go for you life. Also bi!Bruce because...bi!Bruce. Also, I’m totally not incredibly upset that I accidentally pressed control+w by accident and closed the tab halfway through writing this and had to rewrite the whole thing. Me? Upset? Destroyed because it was going perfectly? Haha. No. Of course not. *Cries*Bruce was fidgeting. Which you found hilarious. Sure, you were freaking out slightly too, but you weren’t Batman. And yes, ordinarily, Batman being nervous would scare the crap out of you, and most of Gotham... if Gotham even had ordinary days. But this wasn’t an ordinary day. There wasn’t an alien invasion or a rash of Joker Gas-related murders. You were going to meet the ‘Bat Family.’ And yes, you’d met most of them around town, sometimes in costume, sometimes not... It was Gotham, shit happens. But this was different, because while you’d met the occasional member of Bruce’s Brood one or twice, even exchanged a few words with some of them - this was the first time you’d meet them as... as Bruce’s date. Which you also found just the tiniest bit ridiculous, because Bruce was sure none of them knew before he’d told them last night that he was going to bring you over, and that was so weird because they were supposed to be raised by the ‘World’s Greatest Detective’, and you’d think they could figure out that Bruce was dating someone. Then again, it was Bruce. Having a real relationship... you could see why Bruce’s family was surprised. Not that you didn’t worry about that sometimes. The playboy billionaire, the bat-themed vigilante-superhero - neither one were the type to be attracted to you. But then there were times like this, where Bruce was so open. Bruce fidgeted with his cuffs again and you laughed. Only Bruce would wear a tux to a private meeting with his own family. Then again, you weren’t complaining. Tuxes were sexy.  “You look great.” Bruce’s head darted up and his eyes met yours. “That’s not the point,” he chided with a patented Bruce Wayne smile, a touch of warmth in his eyes making the smile more genuine than anything the public would ever see. Then, sliding forward to press a kiss on your neck, he added lowly, “You look amazing too.” “I never said amazing,” you teased back. “It was in subtext,” he easily rebutted.  You snort and hold out out your arm. “Shall we?” ---Bruce parked the car - expensive, flashy, overrated, with a complicated name you couldn’t be bothered remembering - in the garage behind Wayne Manor. He’d decided against having a driver pick you both up from your apartment, and you’d enthusiastically agreed. Sure the car may be a useless extravagant expense, but a private drive around Gotham in a fancy foreign car with your boyfriend... there was just a touch of that cheesy romance you pretended to hate that you couldn’t resist. Even more so when he actually opened your car door for you, holding out his hand to help you out. “Dork,” you said, taking his hand and standing up. He pulled you close, into a kiss, hands falling onto your hips as yours tangled in his hair, worrying only a little bit that he might’ve put some effort into it that you’d just ruined as you deepened the kiss. Then there was a cough and you froze, even as Bruce pulled away with an easy, rehearsed smile at his butler. Well, wasn’t this a cliche? Bruce’s arms were still keeping you close, but all you could see was the slight orchestration in his pose, all you could think about was how many times he’d probably done this with all the other girls and boys he’d brought home, the whoops-I’ve-accidentally-gotten-caught-sneaking-in-my-current-fling act. So you slipped out of his grip and smiled awkwardly at the butler. “Hey.” You’d met Alfred a few times before, at Bruce’s parties, but, since you and Bruce weren’t technically together at those times, you’d never had a real reason to talk to him except being offered wine or asking where the bathroom is. Because Alfred was a Real Life British Butler. Sarcastic, proper, prim...British. Also... a butler? It’s 2016. What does the guy get out of this? It sorta seemed like maybe the guy was living in the past, or something. You didn’t know. You also didn’t know how to react around him. Should you fall into the role of an upper class Victorian, act even more prim and proper than the butler? Where exactly was the guidebook on this? ‘Help, my boyfriend has an actual butler’. Step 1: Maybe not stare at him with a strained smile. “Hello,” you tried. “It is nice to finally be acquainted with you formally,” Alfred replied calmly. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” You open your mouth and shut it again. “Right.” Bruce’s arm reached out and put a hand on your hip, hugging you to the side of his chest, before his hand trailed to the small of your back. “The family inside?” he asked in a severe tone. But his fingers danced on your back and you remembered how nervous he was before. “In the drawing room,” Alfred said, then bowed out with an “If you’ll excuse me.” Bruce’s fingers were still tapping against your back and you looked at him sidelong. “You gonna play Bruce Wayne all night?” Bruce blinked at you, then looked away, not denying it. “Sorry,” he offered. You huff, secretly pleased that you’d begun to actually notice things like this, when he was pretending and when he wasn’t. Honestly you were a genius. He brushed the back of his hand against yours. “Shall we?” he asked, parroting you from before. You give him a skeptical look, but allow yourself to be led into the Manor. ---If you could sum up the Manor’s design in one word...it would be: expensive. You weren’t even sure if there was something connecting the design all together, unless ‘flashback-version-of-a-haunted-house-in-a-movie’ was a theme. So you were led through corridors filled with random vases and paintings to the drawing room. You’d been in the house once or twice before, mostly for Wayne Charity Balls and the like. Bruce hesitated just a second before the drawing room entrance, and then you both entered. The room fell silent immediately.Which wasn’t ominous. Totally. Bruce’s hand was back on the small of your back. You counted the eyes on you. Five. Five, unblinking sets of eyes looking you up and down. Judging you. No. They were crime fighters. They were probably just assessing you for threats or whatever. You resisted the urge to tuck your hair behind your ear or scratch at your elbow and smiled instead, hoping that you wouldn’t come off too dimwitted just because you weren’t a superhero and also because you had no idea what’s a good opening line for meeting your boyfriend’s family. Barbara Gordon - the Commissioner's daughter - smiled back at you. Richard Grayson - whose name was technically Dick, but there was no way you were going to say that aloud until every other person in the room had said it at least once because calling someone Dick was just...anyway, Richard’s arm was slung over her shoulders casually. You and Bruce sat down on the empty sofa at the head of the room, Bruce crossing his ankles in front of him. Damian stared you down from across the room. “Do you have any special skills?” he asked bluntly. “Pardon.” Damian looked exasperated. “Special skills. I assume you can do something of interest?” And there went any chance of you ever impressing any of these guys. You let your smile brighten, well aware you definitely looked like an idiot at this point. “Nope.” Damian looked at you skeptically. “Right.” Then he turned back to his book. Apparently you’d lost his favor. Bruce’s hand fell to your hip. “Damian has a black and white view of people,” he explained as if that was supposed to make it better. “Civilians only wind up getting hurt,” Damian replied, not looking up from his book. “It’s hardly my fault your flavor of the month wouldn’t last ten seconds in a fight.” “They’re not my ‘flavor of the month’,” Bruce said, a dark tone entering his voice. “Yeah, we’ve been dating for almost six months now,” you piped in because you have no sense of control, obviously. Damian peered at you over the top of his book, huffed and then returned to it. Bruce made a noise at the back of his throat and surveyed the room, almost daring them to make similar comments. The one you didn’t know - Red Hood, you were sure - leant back with exaggerated casualness. “That’s like six flavors,” the man commented. Sitting next to him, Tim glared at him. “What a great addition to the conversation,” he said dryly. “Hey, I’m just trying to fix Damian’s mood ruining.” Damian scoffed. “Because us all sitting here pretending this is going to all work out is a genuinely entertaining experience.” Red Hood stretched and shrugged. “That’s what we said when we first met you.” Damian’s eyes flashed. “Are you even still part of the Family?” “At least I earned my place here,” he retorted. “I didn’t just turn up one day with a birth certificate and demand a position.” “No, you just tried to rob us.” Jason made a noise. “You weren’t even born then.” Damian opened his mouth, but Richard cut in. “Can’t we all just get along,” he bemoaned exaggeratedly. The two boys glared at each other but said nothing more. Oh yeah, this was going to be fun. 

Over 1,500 words now, so this will be another one I post up here and then put up a more extended version on AO3 if I get enough interest in a continuation. 

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Woo, reader insert~ I don’t believe I’ve ever done one of these before.. so umm.. enjoy. Sorry if it’s a bit self-focused in the first part, I was trying to set the mood and give a bit of background without writing a specific backstory - let the reader add in what they want, you know? Also genderless reader cos...who knows, right? You’re standing in front of a set of doors. You’d never actually dreamed of this moment. You know that’s how it’s supposed to go, a child wistfully dreaming of the missing father, him to come home out of the blue and be your knight in shining armor.You consider yourself to be more of a realist. Apparently you get it from your father. So yes, you’d never dreamed about having a rich father who could whisk you away from all your problems. Maybe you should have -here you are, in a mansion, one of the richest men in Gotham, probably the world, only a few steps away, just past the wooden doors that will lead you to the part of yourself, your heritage, that you’d never got a glimpse of before. You tug nervously at your clothes. Your best clothes, something that had never seemed that important to you before and - and you’re stalling. You know you’re stalling. The kind old man who had led you to the door had already disappeared. He must be waiting. He must know you’re here. You take a breath and open the door. It was like it was out of a fairytale. An actual roaring fire. A man in an armchair. You suddenly realise where you’ve gotten your dramatic streak. The man - Bruce, of course it’s Bruce, you’ve seen his pictures, read the articles, watched the interviews - stands up and approaches you. There’s a silence. His eyes map you quickly, the same gaze designed to evaluate all types of men, from mayors to DA’s to CEO’s. You wonder what he sees in you. “Hello,” he says, and it’s a warm voice, something that writers and poets would describe as smooth as honey, something to that effect. “Hello father,” you blurt out, and flush, never more embarrassed in your life. All those pep talks, all those fears of screwing up and you couldn’t last one damn minute with the guy. He laughs softly though, one that, even though you’re sure is at least slightly practised, meant for these sort of occasions,. puts you at ease. You look at him curiously.He gestures to the armchair opposite where he was seated earlier. “Shall we?”  

Send me Batman/Batfamily prompts, headcanons and imagines!