sammytheotakunerd
I need love and Money
My name's sam and I'm 20 years old. Requests are OPEN! I use she/her pronouns and a bit of bixesuality on the side-
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Ain't no sunshine chapter 3
A/n: canon typical violence someone gets stabbed (not you) feedback is always welcome
The clock ticks in an uncomfortable rhythm, almost pounding in your ears, you swallow around nothing and try to take a deep breath, only a few more minutes now.
Sitting cross cross felt childish but you needed the comfort of being low to the ground, before you stood a proud grandfather clock, the thing always intimidated you for some reason, maybe it's because you could smell how expensive it was, how priceless, but it was the only room in the house you could guarantee would be free of any nuisances, aka your estranged family.
A lone little Debbie cupcake in hand, a candle in another, you stick the candle inside the soft flesh of the treat, lighting it with the silver zippo, the seconds begin to count down as the wax melts, today was your eighteenth birthday, and the day you'd find true freedom. A day you'd been waiting for since you'd decided to wash your hands of the Wayne's and all who associated with them.
Bruce had begun to add to his collection of broken people one by one a new face was added to the house, and one by one you were met with the same cold indifference.
Barbara Gordon came into your life warmly, on the arm of Dick, she was kind to you in the beginning, making a point to ask you questions and listening intently when you answered, immediately you admired the older woman, her charming grin and bright demeanor was like a light inside the house, until she became who you eventually discovered was Oracle, tied up in the world of heroes and monsters, she too joined the club of exclusion, unintentionally forgetting plans the two of you had made more often than not, sharing inside jokes with Dick about last night's patrol or even taking on a mentor role for Damian, each action like a stab to the heart.
The last straw felt like the smallest one. And it came in the form of Cassandra Cain.
The girl came to the family under reasons you couldn't know, but she was troubled, you could see the same look in her eyes you had when you looked in the mirror as a child, she didn't outright reject your friendship like Damian, but she was seemingly as disinterested in you as the rest of your family, the real kick to your heart came when you walked past a moment shared between her and Bruce, he was comforting her, you couldn't hear the words spoken but you could feel the love pouring from Bruce, how he had a gentle hand on her shoulder, showing her a kind of love he'd never once shown you.
It wasn't her fault and you held no grudge against her, but it still felt like a slap to the face, and every time you saw her, every time she followed them down to their little hiding spot, the acid-like sting deep in your chest got worse. It was then you made a promise to yourself, you'd stop trying, no more reaching out to Dick or praying Jason would message you back, no more begging for Tim's attention or Damian's respect, and you were sure as shit done asking Bruce to love you.
You're brought back to the present moment by the loud ring of the clock before you, the echoing sound brought a ear splitting grin to your face, finally, you were done.
Blowing out the candle, you toss it on the floor, standing with a pep in your step. You'd had your bags moved out days ago so the only thing left was to leave. A chatter could be heard the closer you got to the front door, male and female voices happily spoke with one another, but you were so unfazed, too excited about your current plans to care they'd gathered without you on your birthday.
"Oh hey (Y/n)" Dick says after spotting your form in the doorway, see the only reason you were here is because the dining room lead to the front door, and your new found freedom.
You nod at him, taking in the sight of popcorn and half empty pizza boxes, a movie projected on the wall, ah so they decided to have a little get together?
None of your concern.
"Sorry we didn't call you down, didn't realize you were home" Dick says a look of pity in his eyes, "do you want some?" It's almost said with a wince.
"Nah." Was your simple response, and with that you walked out of their door and lives.
You'd bought an apartment with your own money, you'd been working since you were fourteen, saving every penny for this moment exactly. It was in a shit part of town with an even shitter interior but it was yours and you loved it. Water dripped into a mostly full bucket in the corner, the lights took a full forty seconds to turn on and it reeked of old cigarettes.
Yet you couldn't wipe the smile off your face.
Feeling that euphoric rush had you buzzing all night, besides the bed in your room was, questionable to say the least, so you decided to stay up. Cleaning what you could with what you had made you feel even better, this terrible little space was all yours, no condescending people or assholes in sight.
Feeling hungry, you throw on a black puffer coat and a matching beanie and start to brave the Gotham cold. Each step is taken with a new gratitude, the farther you get from that family the better you feel.
Your happiness is pulled to a grinding halt by the sound of rapid footsteps behind you, without thinking you turn, fist balled tightly in perfect form, Patty would be proud if she saw the way you decked the bastard running up on you.
You nailed him right in the throat sending him to his knees, his knife cluttering to the ground before your feet, grabbing the weapon you point it down at his choking body, your hands still despite your rapid heartbeat. The wheezing man made a swipe at your ankles causing you to bring the knife down right into his shoulder, a scream rips though his throat, the adrenaline in your body has you running on autopilot.
Kicking him in the side of the head to quickly sprint to the corner store where you'd planned on going in the first place, your hands shake as you grab your food, but again, that smile stays on your face.
Not only had you moved out today, you'd proved to yourself you didn't need them for anything, not protection, not validation, nothing, it was like you could breathe again.
The next few weeks are business as usual at the manor, until Barbara looks at the calendar and realizes she'd, along with everyone, had forgotten your birthday. The guilt ate at her until she made her way to your room knocking softly, a cupcake in hand she called out, "(Y/n)? Listen I'm so sorry about your birthday, I got my dates mixed up." The lie came easy, but no response was heard, "I get if you're completely pissed at me, at us but-"
"Miss (L/n) has moved out."
"what? How is that possible we would have noticed her moving out." As if to prove Alfred wrong Barbara opens your door, only to find a barren room, empty of any signs of life. She turns to the older man, a thousand questions burning on her tongue, but he seemed to read her, "you'd be surprised what goes unnoticed in this house miss Gordon, have a good afternoon." He leaves her with this and it only makes the guilt and confusion worse.
She pulls out her phone scrolling to a number she hadn't used in a while, biting her thumb as it rings she's hoping you clear all her confusion when you answered, but you don't, instead an automated message tells her your phone has been disconnected. Now she begins to worry, you were so young, just barely an adult, the idea of you out on your own in Gotham had her heart sinking, clicking the family group chat she sends a message that will change everything.
"We need to talk about (Y/n)."
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the IOFâs definition of âself-defense:â
pictures via @mohammed_fayq on instagram
no words. absolutely speechless. đ
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Rafah has been ordered to evacuateâŚ
if this isnât convincing enough for you to push for a ceasefire right this second, as hard as you can, no matter at what cost and what the consequences will be, then you truly have no heartâŚ
do you understand what it means to be in a position where youâve been displaced time and time again, just to get to the only supposed safe area that you have been ordered to go to by a force thatâs so much stronger than you as an unarmed civilian, just to be told that you canât be there anymore ? and that is after you have lost everything, like your home, your memories, your friends, family members and loved ones, your job, and everything that youâve worked so hard in order to achieveâŚ
The more than 1 million civilians that are now displaced in Rafah have NOWHERE TO GO.
And if youâre thinking âWhy donât they just go across the border to Egypt ?â âŚ
well first of all, these people are indigenous to Gaza and to Palestine and if you think itâs that easy to leave your homeland then youâre wrong, and especially at such a time where the occupationâs forces would be delighted to see all of these Gazans move to Egypt, that only makes the Gazans want to stay even more, even if that means theyâd lose their life inside this homeland.
and second of all, Egypt doesnât allow Gazans to cross the border that easily, first theyâd need to provide the evacuation costs which could get up to 10,000 $ per person, and then theyâd have to sign a shit ton of papers and get on a waiting list, which is a situation that they could be stuck in, and unfortunately lose their lives in Gaza due to bombing while their turn to evacuate is still so far away on that waiting list.
So protest, boycott, call for a ceasefire, donate, share news, call your reps, scream and shout for the liberation of the Palestinians and do anything in your ability to stop this atrocity⌠so that tomorrow when the future generations ask you about what you did to stop a live and ongoing genocide, youâd at least have one good thing to say.
Donât look away when a genocide is happening.
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i know this is unlikely to happen but like would u ever consider writing a part two to the gojo one shot where reader is happy now and gojo feels like shit. my heart needs it đ
how to break a toxic ex-boyfriendâs heart
drabble to casanova
cw. profanity, reader gets slut shamed once, implied stalking, gojou and his toxic behavior
Gojou barely made an effort to try and win you back after you disappeared from his life like a ghostâblocking his number, deleting him in all of your social media accounts, and even going as far as telling the landlords to ban him from entering your apartment. He tried to reach out to you but your stubbornness only irked him more. Fine, he thought to himself. Fuck you, then. You didnât give him a chance to explain so he believed that it wasnât his fault anymore. He wasnât acting out of spite and Kellie was just a one-time thing so if that was what you were mad about, you should have confronted him about it. You should have communicated with him instead of locking yourself away from his existence without a single fucking word.
He told himself that he shouldnât feel bad because the two of you were on the verge of breaking up anyway. He would be damn stupid not to see how the spark had died down and how the usual happiness he felt when he saw you had already faded long before you ghosted him. âFuck,â he laughed to himself. You actually fucking ghosted him. How did you even have the guts? You were just a clingy girlfriend who constantly wanted him around. Satoru was sure as hell that you would be running backâno, crawling back to him. It was only a matter of time until you would swallow your newfound pride back to where you found it because Gojou knew for certain that you would find an excuse for him.
You always have. You always let him do things that normally would have already made you leave, but because of your weak and naive self, you ended up enduring it all for love. Itâs only a matter of time, he reminded himself again. He was already preparing the words he would say to you once you beg to have him back again. Surely, you couldnât live without him. He was the only man that could amplify your world in red and blueâtwo colors that signified as complete opposites but make up a beautiful combination of purple just like his mastered curse technique. You once told him that you two were the perfect match, right?
And while he was unbothered with your act of rebellion, he continued with his life and had fun in his young, single life. No restrictions, no jealous girlfriend to worry about. He fucked more girls every weekend now that he didnât have you constantly keeping an eye on him because, for all you knew, he hated it when you monopolized him.
He hated you and your audacity to think that you had him tied around the neck and then suddenly dropping him like a piece of trash that you carelessly tossed around.
He wasnât being too unreasonably angry. Heck, he wasnât angry because you ghosted him so donât get him wrong. Maybe his thoughts were killing him a little because he did miss you around, but you brought this upon yourself to leave him so be it.
Gojou didnât care. You would come back around. He didnât care so he spent his weekends partying and getting intoxicated from the feeling of being free. He didnât care so he met with other girls and fucked them in their beds only to leave the next morning without remembering their names. He didnât care, he thought, he didnât care that he was up all night thinking about why you still hadnât contacted him 6 months after you disappeared from his life. He didnât care, but he was missing the feeling of having someone looking forward to see him every day. He didnât care, but he wanted to see that beautiful innocent face again that always looked at him with familiar fondness as if he was your universe and he was all you ever needed.
Satoru shouldnât care, so why was he banging at your door, tipsy at broad daylight hoping that you would let him become your whole world again? âY/N, open up.â
The surprise he had when another guy opened your door caused his pique. Who the hell was this punk? He was looking at Gojou with a strange, hostile gaze and Satoruâs knuckles felt cold but he held himself back until the guy asked, âWho are you?â
âWho the fuck are you?â Satoru returned the question back to him, standing tall and domineering in front of the guy. While pressing his palm flat on the door, he sent a stern look towards the stranger. Austere and unrelenting. âWhat do you think youâre doing in my girlfriendâs place?â
The toolbag was quick to raise his hands up in surrender. âDude, she never told me sheâs got a boyfriend,â he reasoned, stepping out of the door to leave. âI just met her at a club. I donât plan to stay for long. I was just about to leave.â
At a club? Since when did you go to clubs? Gojou narrowed his stare, a look of distaste that was a warning in itself. âGet the fuck outta here before I deal with you the hard way.â
Gojou was fuming when he entered your apartment for the first time again in six months and saw you in your silk robe with splotches of dark mascara all over your eyes. You looked like you had too many drinks last night, but... since when did you drink? Since when did you start hooking up with random guys? Since when did you have your dresses discarded on the living room, looking like the type of clothes that the girls he slept with would wear?
Since when did you become one of them?
âWhat do you think youâre doing here, Satoru?â you hissed, which you never did before, and he was left in surprise with your antagonism. âYouâre not welcome here.â
Before he knew it, he was grabbing your forearm harshly. âThe hellâs up with you?â he gritted, âAre you a slut now? You tryinâ to get back at me by sleeping around?â
Where was his cute, submissive girlfriend that blushed whenever he would bring her flowers on weekends? What happened to his sweet girlfriend who would give him a kiss as soon as she saw him?
Did he really destroy you that much that youâve changed?
A laugh of sarcasm escaped your red lips. âIf Iâm a slut then what are you?â you simply replied, never once looking straight into his ocean eyes as you walked past him towards the living room. âGet out of my place, Gojou. We broke up. Youâre a piece of shit.â
âWe never broke up,â he retorted, following you around with furrowed brows. âIf anything, that was a cool off. What makes you think you can act around like this?â
You sat on the couch before faking a gasp, âOh, we never broke up? Because I actually fucked one of your friends last week. So does that mean I cheated on you?â There was a nasty grin on your face, a grin that enjoyed the vexation on his. âToo bad, then. I guess that makes us both cheaters.â
Satoruâs rage made him pull you up so you could look up at his furious aquamarine eyes that were searching for yours. You could see it, you could see just how desperate he was at finding the old innocent girlfriend he used to treat like garbage. âDrop the act,â he warned, tightening his hold on your arm as he stared daggers at you. âI want us back, so drop this stupid act.â
For a minute, he saw the shift in your eyes. He saw how you softened back to the old you, back to the docile girlfriend he never realized he loved this much all along. He couldnât understand why his heart was hurting just by merely looking at your face, touching your cheek, and leaning in for a kiss. A kiss that you barely returned, pulling away only for the unforgiving expression to reappear on your angelic face.
âBaby,â he spoke, stroking your cheek. Yes, heâs got you. It was easy to manipulate you. He was your weakness and you would just fall back into his arms again. âYou still love me, right? I never took them seriouslyââ
âIf youâre looking for her,â you interrupted, the word âherâ being yourself, âsheâs gone. Now get the fuck out.â
Gone. No, you werenât.
Because even if you kicked him out of your apartment that day, he still followed you around. He made time for you. He knew which time of the day you would leave for your classes. He knew when you would spend your afternoons in your favorite cafe with your friends. He knew when you would come home at night while he was watching you from afar. At most nights, he was tempted to just walk into your apartment and fuck his frustrations on you because how could you be so okay without him?
You were still you. Delicate, radiant, and all-smiling like the first time he met you. You were still the sweet girl that he learned to love, but the only time you were different was when you were in front of him.
Gojou didnât expect that the tables would turn. Even more, he wasnât expecting to see you one day holding hands with fucking Kento Nanami. He wasnât expecting that he would see you making out with the blond at the same house he cheated on you with Kellie.
The next thing he knew, he was pulling you away into the bathroom and slamming you against the wallâhis eyes burning holes into your skull. âWhy are you with Nanami?â
âBecause Iâm dating him.â Nothing but nonchalance in your tone. The sweet girl who used to be deeply in love with him was now with someone else. âGet your hands off me.â
And before you could leave him alone in the bathroom, you gave him one last look.
âDid you even dress up today?â
His face hardened at the sight of your smirk that followed a low, condescending chuckle.
âI think you stopped trying to look good, Satoru. Do better.â
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might be running a little late on the spiderverse post (and by little i mean itâll prolly be posted this weekend instead when all of us are free) cause i got assigned a task for skewl last minute đđđđ so ill just give you guys this short fic/drabble w/ Cat Villain Reader for now that has been rotting in drafts for a bit.
please read my previous cat villain posts for more context !!
If you were to give a rank of the most punchable face in the Batfam, itâd be Damian. No surprise there in hindsight, but the fact that he managed to beat his own dad â the one that left your one true love to die â still astounded you.
Despite his reputation and the fact above, Damian had more calm moments with you than any of his predecessors. It may have been due to other factors; you being older and more mature (less of a brat), that you didnât hate his guts, or that he wasnât a masochist like Tim.
But the biggest reason was Talia.
You donât get how the woman fell for Bruce but she did, and you knew she would do anything for him. Youâve fought her before and she was no joke.
And, she was the only person who helped you with Jason. Who didnât scoff at your violent reaction towards his death. Who actually understood you, rather than ply you with words of comfort.
So, of course, you were a lot more gentle when it came to her son. Even during his more verbally abusive phase.
Recently however, youâve noticed a change.
âWhat?â Damian glared at you (I say as if he looks at you in any other way other than glaring)
âNothing.â You looked away, your mouth forming a pout. Damn him for having great observational skills even through both of your masks and while you guys were in the middle of a fight.
âWere you just staring at my arms?â
âNo!â You shouted in offence. â. . . Yes.â
But how dare of him to be right anyways! It wasnât your fault his new fit looked tighter on his toned biceps.
In any case, thatâs where the change really started to be obvious. Usually after that heâd knock you out or screech curses, but now⌠now heâd â
âKeep looking. Youâre easier to catch when distracted.â
You immediately felt your knees go weak.
The nicknames, too. Good god the nicknames. Some of them were still as degrading as ever, but you also noticed a sudden rise of sweeter ones, some in his mother tongue, others just plain corny.
âHey Kitty, get your food elsewhere.â Damian greeted you from behind.
Damian never greeted you.
Your fights and/or meet-ups always started with a little roughhousing.
Which, as of the moment, was not happening just yet. Not to mention he didnât even take advantage of your surprised state.
And so you turn invisible.
Ever the sharp eyed man that he was, he quickly spotted you from the sound of your movements. Yet he doesnât attack. In the blink of an eye, he appeared right behind you, seizing your arms and whispered, âDid that make you purr?â
You licked him in response. Safe to say that you were smacked down afterwards.
You were starting to think that Damian liked you.
Of course, even though you were confident to a fault, you werenât conceited. So in order to test that theory, you managed to switch your heists up for when he wasnât on duty.
And from what you hear from Tim, he hasnât been doing so great.
So terrible his days have been in fact that he had been sloppy enough to get caught. While the rest of his team was busy fighting you took the opportunity to sneak in. A favour for Taliaâs help, you thought.
âFool! What are youââ Damian shouted at you. The villain they were fighting was no joke. If you had gotten caught â
His sermon gets interrupted by a kiss from you to the lips. You even shove your tongue down his throat for good measure.
You separate from him after a few minutes.
You think from the fact that he pulls you back in and kisses you as his friends were screaming in the background made it clear that he more than just liked you.
Maybe even loved youâŚ
â to be continued
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If you saw THAT post, no you didn't
I'm just getting back to writing slowly and I accidentally posted my draftđđ
I might write again cause my writer's block is fading away (finally) and I'm becoming more motivated to do your requests.
So sorry to all the people who requested and I still haven't posted it!! I'm on my way to post it:DDD
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i bet he use 13 in one shampoo or something
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Why is this so accurate
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Not Here
[Yandere! Platonic! Neglectful Batfam Ă Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]
[Warnings: Mentions of neglect, Mild Yandere Behavior, Batfam being hella stupid.]
(Not really proofread. The birds and bats seeing that y'know- maybe not paying attention to people and neglecting them isn't a good thing. Chaos ensues. More of a development thing. Might be a little ooc?)
Tags: @bigcandlesmolbrain
Part 2 of this post.
ŕšŰŠŰŰŠŕšâââââââââââââââââââââŕšŰŠŰŰŠŕš
Bruce liked to think he was a good father, for anything that was worth. Or at the very least, a decent one.
He wasn't perfect by any means, but he felt like he raised his children the best he could, and had made them into responsible and diligent adults. Dick was a great example of this, and even if Damian was still growing up, Bruce had hope that he'd turn out to be good as well. The hardships his current Robin had to face would pay off in the end, Bruce was almost too sure of that.
Those he decided to take under his wing had their flaws, yes, but even if he didn't say it out loud or point it out often. He did believe that they were good at what they do, or at least were on the right path to becoming good vigilantes. Bruce couldn't help but be proud and prideful of where his children and sidekicks were, and could only look forward to how they would continue to develop as time went on. Despite their feelings towards him, and his own faults, mistakes, paranoia, and so on. Along with how he felt about them, and their flaws â he couldn't help but respect the people those in his little mess of a family where becoming, and turning out to be.
Or maybe he was both overestimating and underestimating himself, and the true effects he had on those he decided to look after.
Since, for a few days now, he felt like something was... off.
The Manor seemed quieter these days, and even if he couldn't remember a time where it was particularly loud, the detail felt misplaced to him. Sure, he hasn't hosted a gala or party in a while, but that didn't feel like it was the reason why the silence suddenly bothered him.
Bruce tried to think of all possible reasons, a little surprised himself that this feeling of his was bothering him so much, but the more he thought about it the more confused he became. There didn't seem to be a particular reason for this... and yet, just as he was about to put this feeling aside, he heard it.
["I, um, I was just wondering..."]
["Oh, uhh, that's quite alright! Oh, one moment please... oh! Second chorus... T'was brilling, and the slithy toves, did gyre and gimble in the wade..."]
It sounded like some sort of... play? Bruce wasn't too sure, but still decided to check it out regardless, wondering why something like that was playing in the first place.
So, allowing the sounds of the play to guide him, he continued on.
["Why- why you're a cat!"]
The voices grew louder as Bruce drew closer, interest peaked as he tried to recall and see of he knew this play. The lines sounding familiar, now that he was really listening to them.
["A Cheshire Cat. All mimsy were the borogoves..."]
Once Bruce rounded the corner he saw a... familiar face on the screen.
A student play was being filmed, and the play itself was Alice in Wonderland.
Whereas Bruce didn't recognize the actor for Alice, he did recognize the actor for the Cheshire Cat, but couldn't quite put his finger on it...
Was... was that...?
"Y/n?" He whispered your name, voice barely above a whisper.
No, it couldn't be. You didn't participate in any plays, and surely if you did he would've known about it. Even then, that didn't explain why he was seeing this now. The play itself had to have been a recording, since you looked so young...
How long ago did this take place?
["Oh, wait! Don't go, please!"]
["Very well. Third chorus..."]
["Oh no, no, no... thank you, but- but I just wanted to ask you which way I ought to go."]
["Well, that depends on where you want to get to."]
["Oh, it really doesn't matter... as long as I g-"]
["Then it really doesn't matter which way you go! Ah-hmm.... and the momeraths outgrabe..."]
Bruce was staring so intensely at the screen that he hardly noticed how the lines and voices faded into the background. His focus centered on you, disbelief gnawing at the back of his head.
He had never seen you smile like that before, not during all the times he's seen you anyway. Even if those moments themselves were small and short from what he could remember, the smile you wore during your performance felt... new in a way. Like something he hadn't seen before â not on your face anyway. Though that wasn't the only thing that made Bruce feel weird as he watched the play.
It wasn't anything to do with your acting skills. They were fine for the most part â and honestly considering the age you probably were during the time of the play, they might've been above average, or even a little higher than that. Not even the girl who played Alice, who also did relatively well, was the source of this odd feeling.
It wasn't the costumes or the set up, or even the lighting, and how he could faintly see the silhouette of other actors and such just behind the curtain, because of the camera angle. No, it hardly had anything to do with anything like that, but, how should he put this...
... How come he didn't know about this? How come he wasn't aware of this play before? Let alone that they had a recording of it, and that you were even a part of it... but Bruce still felt bothered by this whole realization because, well.
Why didn't you tell him about this?
"Master Bruce?"
The sudden voice snapped Bruce out of whatever trance he was stuck in, as he whipped his head around to face the source of it.
He huffed softly, "Oh, hey Alfred." Bruce greeted calmly, acting as if the butler hadn't caught him off guard.
Alred couldn't help but raise a brow at that.
Almost in a silent, embarrassed way, Bruce glanced off to the side only to notice that the recording was still playing, and so he decided to ask about it. Since, if someone knew anything about anyone in this Manor, it would be Alfred.
"Say... what's this playing on the TV?"
"It's a recording of one of Master Y/n's plays, Master Bruce." Alfred answered simply, almost as if it was common knowledge. "Apologies if it's too loud, I decided to play it while cleaning. I can change it or turn it down if you'd like."
"No, no it's fine... but since when has Y/n acted in plays? I don't remember hearing about this." Bruce stated, confusion growing as another emotion began to swell in his chest. One he was all too familiar with, but ignored for the moment.
"Since middle school, if I recall correctly, but it was only while they were younger. Having only been in three school plays in total, I believe." Alfred moved closer to Bruce as he looked at the screen, eyes softening for a moment as he watched you move along the stage. You had grown up so much since then, and the stage fright you used to have felt like nothing more but a faint memory now.
You wouldn't believe how incredibly proud of you he is.
"It's a shame they didn't do any more afterwards, since it would've been nice to have a few more recordings of their performances, but I suppose that's what happens when you find a new passion." He looked back at Bruce. That previous softness in his gaze nowhere to be found.
There was a certain way how his eyes looked at the billionaire, as if expecting something. As if expecting this.
Alfred had higher hopes, but you had left for a reason. Even if he knew what that reason was, it was only now did he see it more clearly. Especially as he witnessed Bruce's face shift into one of shock and surprise.
"They've always told you, Master Bruce, but you're schedule has just always been too full." Alfred handed Bruce a piece of paper, and Bruce took it wordlessly, looking it over.
It was a flyer promoting a play â the Alice in Wonderland play that was still going in the background â with the dates and times listed below, along with some of the cast members. Your name stuck out like a sour thumb compared to the rest.
Bruce did remember seeing this before, but one thing did still confuse him as he looked back at Alfred.
"I'm pretty sure you gave this to me at the time, not Y/n."
"That I did, sir, but that was only because Master Y/n was having some trouble with catching you attention, because they had wanted to give you the flyer themself. So I offered to give it to you for them." Alfred replied truthfully, cleaning up a little more while he was at it, and leaving Bruce to his thoughts for the moment.
He didn't remember you trying to catch his attention... but if what Alfred says is true then that makes sense, even if it made Bruce feel bad in a way. The feeling growing a little more when he realized something Alfred had said.
"And this happened all three times?"
"You sound surprised, Master Bruce."
Bruce ran a hand through his hair, eyes pinned on the flyer as he pressed his pursed into a thin line. Countless thoughts floated around in his head, all of them jumbled up and messy as he just didn't know what to make of this. Missing one was probably fine, and maybe two at a push, but all three? How could he have missed every single one?
Sure he was busy, but he didn't think it was this bad. Did he just forget? How did he not notice such a thing had slipped right past him?
All Bruce could do was sigh. There was nothing he could do about it now, and even if there was a way to make it up to you, he didn't know where to start, or if that would change anything to begin with. Besides, he didn't even know how long it's been since these performances had happened.
...
Wait a minute-
"Alfred, how long ago was this?"
Alfred just looked at Bruce, brows just barely creased before he took a breath of his own.
"A few years ago, sir."
What?
At the look of disbelief on Bruce's face, Alfred could only stand and straighten himself out as he calmly asked, "How old do you think Master Y/n is, sir?"
"Oh, well, they're..."
... Bruce couldn't even think of an answer.
Obviously you had to be in highschool since it had been years since you've performed in a play, with the Alice in Wonderland play being one of them, but how old were you exactly? What year were you in? Were you a sophomore? Junior? Surely you weren't a freshman, but even then â what high school did you even go to? Bruce didn't think you were home schooled, or else he'd definitely notice that... or would he?
Oh no.
What if you already graduated? What if you already had gone and done something that not even Alfred knew about? Did you have a job? Where would you even work? Were you already in college? What college would you even go to? Did you manage to get a scholarship? What would be you major? Where would you be studying? Would you even stay in Gotham? Were you even old enough to be out on your own? Could you even drink yet? Could you drive? Did you own a car? Or even a motor bike? When was your birthday? Did it already pass? What's the month? The day? The year?
How old are you?
"I... I think I'm going to go and just check up on them." Bruce couldn't answer, and while he had a vauge idea. That's all it was, an idea. So he moved the subject along, and made his way up the stairs, leaving Alfred behind. Just watching as the world's greatest detective left the room, all because he couldn't figure out the age of one of his own kids. One he had chosen to take in and watch over like all the rest, and yet left behind all the same in the process.
Alfred could only sigh to himself as he paused the recording of the play. Ejecting the disc and putting it in its respective case, and placing it in its usual spot.
This was the only way, he decided. This was the only way.
--------------
Bruce didn't feel much better by the time he reached your room. It took him mistakenly stumbling into two guest rooms before he finally reached it, and honestly he felt more regret over that alone.
Most of this time he hardly remembered that the room before him now was even occupied, let alone that you had claimed it as yours. What didn't help was that it was only now that he remembered introducing this space as your own, and yet he had forgotten that small detail so quickly.
Regardless, Bruce just pushed that all to the side as he knocked on the door, taking in a breath.
"Y/n?" He called out, only to get no respose. So he tried knocking again, but he still got nothing.
Sure, he was getting a little confused, but just pushed that to the side with everything else, as he stared down at the door knob.
... Should he?
He had to talk with you eventually, especially considering what he just figured out and how little he actually knew about you. He needed to talk with you. He couldn't just let this slide, not with what he knew now. He couldn't. He wouldn't.
So, be tried the knob, and was kind of surprised that it was unlocked. Though besides that little strange detail, he gently pushed the door open, and took a peak inside.
Oh. You weren't even here...
Bruce didn't know how to feel about that.
Regardless of that, however, he opened up the door a little wider, and stepped inside. What he saw only made him more confused, but also feel so much worse when he looked all over the room. How could this be...?
Various things were on your desk, shelves, and hung on the walls. Your room looked surprisingly clean, but honestly Bruce doesn't know what he was expecting. After all, he didn't even know your exact age or hardly anything about you, and even then â by the looks of things, he had missed out on so much more than he originally thought.
Trophies, awards, medals, and certificates were littered about your room. The very sight of them made the paper in Bruce's hands feel so much heavier, and yet he still held onto it as he further inspected the awards, and few pictures hung on your walls.
Every color was here, from bronze to silver to gold, and at some point it seemed you were able to get a consistent amount of silvers and gold. The awards themselves were from various events and activities that barely corresponded with each other. From fencing to swimming, and dance to pottery. From track and field to literacy, and gymnastics to cooking.
It was like you had tried to do so much of everything, and were trying to collect all of these awards from all of these different activities, rather than earn them because you deserved it for all your hard work and dedication to do that particular activity, but Bruce just couldn't understand why. Why go through all of the effort just to move on to the next thing? It... didn't make sense.
Right next to you black belt for martial arts, you had hung up the few medals you had gotten from track, and right below that were some awards you had for gymnastics. Beside your soccer trophies you had some kind of art award, and beside that was more awards and things you had received from playing and participating in other sports and activities. Bruce had no idea you were even into some of these things, but just from looking at your room, he could tell you weren't all that into or interested in some of the activities you did. Seeing as some activities and such had more awards when compared to others, but one thing in particular seemed to really catch your interest.
Music.
Not only did you have a whole wall and section of your room dedicated to it, but it felt more organized, and the placement of awards and such seemed more thought out in a way.
Countless awards littered the wall, and from the placement alone he knew you were proud of them. The pictures hung on the wall showed you shaking someone's hand as you either held up an award or album cover. You smiled, and Bruce could see how genuine it was as he felt like he could feel your happiness radiate off the photo itself. The people you were shaking hands with looked pretty happy themselves, and Bruce was a little surprised that he recognized them, but that made him feel more conflicted.
The people in those photos with you, were famous, and you had gotten those opportunities to meet them and shake their hand all by yourself.
All of these awards â they were only the finishing products of what you had spent all of your time doing. They were only small glimpses into the person you truly were, and as Bruce looked at the records you had hung on the wall, he could feel his own regret spilling out of his bleeding heart.
He wish he was there with you.
He wish that he had been there to see you even get half of these rewards that you undoubtedly deserved. He wish he got to hear the music you played, and what kind of songs you wrote. He wish he had been there to see you go on, and work your way up, with him being there as your support, and yet...
He had missed everything.
From the plays, to the matches you had, to the games you played in and competitions you participated in, and how could he forget your performances that even earned you such big, important awards. Awards that probably meant so much to you, because of how far it showed you had grown.
Bruce missed it all. Every little thing.
... He had to find you.
No if's or but's this time. No more excuses. He had to find you. Bruce needed to.
So he did a more thorough search of your room. Finally placing the flyer down on your desk as he looked around. He checked your closet, your bed, even under the picture frames, and moved some of the awards around, in order to better check and search for anything. Any hint that could point to where you had gone, and or where you might be. Any clue, any thing that could tell him about you.
He even made sure to take a mental note of the people in the photos, just in case he had to reach out to them and ask if they knew where you were by some off chance. Though that was only if Bruce was convinced that you weren't even in the Manor, and getting some extra information on you never hurt anyway. Seeing as he had a lot of catching up to do.
As he searched, he ran into various things. From equipment, art pieces â most of which were unfinished â and old notes, to other random items. Like an airsoft gun, some glass beakers, various ties, a pair of shades, a glasses frame, and a sewing kit next to a first-aid kit? Bruce didn't want to think about how the first-aid kit both looked used, and was empty.
Bruce even stumbled upon a fancy looking tuxedo he didn't remember buying you at all, but a small tag caught his eye and-
Oh, it was a gift from someone else, and with the note you left behind the tag â most likely with the intention of giving the tuxedo back â it was safe to assume that you and this person knew each other quite well...
Bruce just put the tux back. He would've gotten you a better one anyway if you had just asked, or if he even knew you needed one in the first place. Though regardless of that, he kept looking.
Eventually, he looked under your bed, and found a single box under there. Undisturbed... sitting innocently in the darkness.
Bruce didn't waste much time as he reached out and grabbed it, and placed it on your bed. There was a thin layer of dust on top of it, which Bruce found a little strange but kept in mind as he opened the box and looked inside. There, he saw a variety of notebooks and papers, and from the looks of things, the items in here had been collecting a bit of dust too...
When was the last time you touched these?
It seemed a little strange that these were tucked away from everything else, and clearly you didn't want other people going through it or even seeing them since you kept it so out of view. Were they diaries? Bruce would rather learn anything personal about you from yourself, he didn't want to go through your things like this, but considering the situation...
He sighed, and just picked up a random notebook. If this could help him find you, then so be it. He didn't want to do this but he couldn't leave you alone either. Not again.
Yet, he was so focused on looking through your things that he didn't even realize that someone had passed by, and noticed the odd room Bruce was in. A room that they themselves haven't seen before.
"Woah, what's this place? An old childhood room or something?" Dick asked as he invited himself into the room, mindlessly looking around, not really paying attention to anything in particular as he waltzed around.
"It's Y/n's room." Bruce stated bluntly, still looking over the dusty notebooks in the box. Some simply labeled 'Notes' or 'Practice', while one in particular was called 'Ideas/List & Progress' with little drawn sparkles around it. Another two weren't labeled with titles or words, and instead with small music notes doodled onto the cover in your favorite color. Though Bruce didn't know the color was your favorite.
Nevertheless, Bruce decided to look through one of the notebooks with music notes on it, completely missing how Dick had froze, and turned to look at him as if he was crazy.
"What? You've got to be kidding, right?" Bruce just gestured to one of the records on the wall, flipping through the notebook in his hand as he read through it quickly but carefully.
Dick, still not entirely convinced and honestly just really confused, looked at one of the records Bruce had gestured towards, and felt like he had just gotten ran over by a truck with how hard reality hit him. There your name was, signed and everything, with a well-known producer listened as well.
His eyes even darted to the other records, only to find the same thing, and for just one final check, he looked at one of the awards on the wall.
Your name was engraved on it.
"Holy-" He covered his mouth, more than shocked as he looked around the room again, hand falling from his face, "but that means-" Now Dick was paying more attention to the room, moving from one thing to another as he looked over everything now.
"How did they- there's no way they did all of this? And- what. They even did gymnastics?!" To say that Dick was in absolute disbelief and shock was an understatement. Yet he hardly had any time to recover or process anything as another person popped into the room, albeit only temporarily.
"I'm afraid it is quite possible, Master Dick." Alfred spoke up, catching the attention of the oldest sibling as he moved into the room, and set a stack of papers on your desk, right next to the flyer Bruce had set down.
Confused and curious, Dick looked at the stack once Alfred had pulled away from it, and picked up the first paper.
It was another flyer, but this time for some kind of solo event or concert you'd be doing. The date written down was a few days ago... a week or so having already passed since then, but how could this be?
Dick hesitated, but took another one as he looked it over. Again, it was for some kind of concert or performance, but the date and time was further away. Three weeks to a month having passed since, but how did they not notice? Didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell them?
"This doesn't make any sense... why didn't Y/n tell us about any of these things?" He asked, mostly to himself as he continued to look through the various flyers.
"Why don't you tell me, Master Dick?" Alfred quipped, looking at Dick in a knowing way before stepping out of the room, "Now, I'll be heading off, but I do trust that both of you make the right choice this time around." With that, he simply left. Leaving Dick confused but feeling worse at the same time as he looked back at the flyers, mind racing until he spotted something.
Carfully, Dick pulled out another flyer out of the pile as he placed the others to the side. He recognized this one, but where had he seen it before? Was it...
... Oh god.
Dick whipped out his phone and checked his messages. He had to scroll down a bit, but he quickly found your contact and tapped on it. He flipped through your messages, hundreds upon thousands of which he never responded to, and even if that alone made he feel bad. When he found what he was looking for, he felt even worse.
He found a message of you sending him a photo of the flyer, and said how you hoped you'd see him there. The message itself had been sent almost a year ago, and as he looked back at the flyer, he didn't know how to feel. Yet he kept looking, especially as he spotted another familiar poster.
Some of them he was able to connect back to another message you had sent, and the further back he went the more he responded... but it wasn't much, and he seemed to leave you on read more times than not. He had made an effort, but clearly it wasn't enough.
Dick couldn't imagine how that must've felt for you, and he almost didn't want to. Yet he still continued to search through the flyers, and came across one he had an odd memory of. He did remember seeing a text for it, but also remembered hearing about it somehow? He wasn't too sure, but just incase he did decide to look through his voicemail. He didn't know what he'd find, but he decided to just have a little look, even if he wasn't sure he'd even find anything.
So, he matched the date of the message and scrolled until he found it.
The voicemail innocently stared at him, and Dick couldn't help but hesitate before he tapped on it, and let it play. Heart already heavy as he stared down at the flyer. The kind of look someone gave when they already knew it was too late, and Dick didn't know what was worse. The fact that he basically missed out on your entire life at this point, or that he had nothing to say for it besides that he was sorry, and had just forgotten about these things one too many times.
["Hey, Dick! I, um, I hope everything is going well and that patrol hasn't been too bad." Your voice wavered as you spoke. You were clearly nervous but you tried to push on anyway, and cleared your throat before you tried again.]
["How are you, though? I heard that you had a rough night the other day- and I know I'm not really into all this crime-fighting stuff like everyone else but... I just hope you're okay, y'know?" You chuckled nervously before you cleared your throat again, "An-anyway, um, yeah. I just- hope you're okay." The sound of a paper being fiddled with could be heard, and you took in a small breath.]
["So... I have this performance I'll be doing next Saturday- it's more of a competition really, since other musicians and stuff will be there too. It's at 7 o'clock, and I know you guys mostly work at night and everything- but if you could drop by or even just quickly come around at 8:15 that would be great! Since, um, that's when I'll be performing..."]
Dick looked at awards you hung on the wall as the voicemall continued to play. Based on the date of the performance he was able to find the award. You had gotten second place.
["It's um, it's a piece I wrote that's a tribute to your family- the Flying Graysons, that is, since we're allowed to play songs we wrote if they were approved beforehand, and it was! So, um, I really hope you don't mind. Your family is cool! Not that Bruce and everyone else isn't or anything- um, I'm going to stop talking about that before I say something stupid. But! I couldn't help but feel inspired so I, y'know-" you cleared your throat again. Clearly nervous.]
["Sorry for my rambling- but, yeah. You can pass by if you want or have the time, and it's right by that one place Bruce had that whole charity announcement on Monday. You can't miss it, there will be lights and all this other stuff- not to mention that it'll probably be loud considering things, but uh, yeah."]
["So if you think you can make it or pass by, it's at 7! Next Saturday! And if you can't make it by then, I play at 8:15! So, yeah. Remember that! If- if you want to. Hope to see you there! And if I don't, that's okay. I just hope you enjoy the piece if you hear it. Have a good night! Or-! Or day! Whenever you listen this- um, bye!"]
What? You had wrote a song for him? For his parents? For them?
Dick's heart swelled. He didn't even get to hear it either, he wasn't able to. He didn't have time, and he forgot, but that didn't make things better, did it?
You had gone through all of that effort, and not only made a song for him but even played it during a competition and got second place. Yet he couldn't even put a few minutes to the side to listen to it. He didn't.
Now Dick definitely felt awful.
However, he did notice that there was another voicemail left by you just a few minutes after the last one. So, he decided to play that too before his guilt and regret could fully settle in, as if it'd make him feel better somehow.
["8:45! IT'S 8:45! THAT'S WHEN I PLAY! NOT- Not 8:15, sorry! I mixed up the times- that's when a friend of mine plays, not me! Sorry! Uh, but yeah. I play at 8:45- stop by if you can! I hope to see you then! Buh-bye!"]
Okay, well, Dick officially felt worse now. So much worse.
You had all this character and personality, and yet he was never able to fully see it â to hear it like he has now. Not like this, not while he was paying attention.
Your voice was so much different than what he remembered, and despite your nerves you really tried to tell him because you hoped he'd be there. You tried to tell him in hopes he'd actually show up, and he never did. Even as he listened to your other voice messages, he could hear how his own actions, or lack thereof, were affecting you.
The messages grew shorter, more to the point, and while you did still sound enthusiastic â it's like he could hear the hope dying in your voice. The hope that'd he show up. That any effort would be made, but that didn't happen, and it didn't help that Dick was listening to some of the voicemails he was going through right now, for the first time.
He could only imagine the pain he caused you, and Bruce was thinking the same thing.
Bruce was still looking through your notebooks as Dick was regretting everything he had done to you in the past.
The notebook Bruce was reading now was one where you had written down majority of your more recent song ideas, along with things you wanted to try and melodies you were trying to mix together. It was mostly full of lyrics and small notes to yourself about certain things you wanted to keep in mind, and though there was a lot of things crossed out, Bruce couldn't help but be... charmed in a strange way.
How you talked to yourself was adorable, and seeing your excitement for your own performances and such through each word you wrote, just made Bruce feel so happy for you. He could almost picture your smile and how giddy you felt when you were writing some of these things down, or how focused you were when trying to figure out how to continue the chorus of a song you were making â or if there should even be lyrics to begin with. Along with how you wanted the song itself to sound, and what emotions you wanted to capture in it.
With each page turned it's like he could see the entire process you went through when it came to your song composition. Like he was almost there with you in the moment, watching you do your thing, and honestly? Just by that alone he couldn't help but grow... softer.
Bruce loved seeing how your mind worked when it came to music, and your thought process behind each and every little thing. He just... he felt like through each line and little note he read and looked over, he was falling in love. The kind of love that he couldn't quite describe, besides just the love only a father could feel when they really see their child for who they are for the first time. The kind of love Bruce hadn't felt in a long while, nor this intensely.
You were so creative and passionate, so driven to achieve your dream and do what you loved. You were just so... you, and there was just something about the way you expressed that in the notebook that felt charming. The deeper Bruce got into the notebook, the harder it was to not love you, and each time he saw one of your little notes, he could feel himself smiling. You were so precious, how could he not see that before?
Though, besides all of that, he did notice a small pattern.
Every performance you had, you mentioned in the notebook and would express your feelings about it, and every time you did â you'd write something beneath it. Just a small paragraph about certain hopes you had. Hopes that made Bruce's heart squeeze tighter.
It was you hoping that they'd get to see you perform, that they'd show up, and suddenly Bruce was reminded of why he was doing this in the first place. So, he started to flip through your book, shaking out of whatever trance he was in.
With each performance that passed, the little paragraph got shorter, smaller, simpler. Like a quiet prayer that was dying down, as the believer slowly lost their hope and faith. It even came to a point where only one sentence was written for a while.
"I hope I see one of them."
Bruce's heart broke a little more each and every time he saw it, but the page that really got to him was when the sentence was smudged, small wrinkles and creases were on the page, and you couldnât even finish writing the sentence as the end of the 'e' in 'them' dragged out.
What didn't help was when he flipped a few more pages, and found the last performance you had written about. It was a few months ago, but the date didn't immediately catch Bruce's eye. No, no, no, what caught his attention at first was the change of that single sentence.
"I hope the audience enjoys it."
His heart shattered at that, smile fading as he took in a breath. A moment passed, with Bruce just stating at the writing. Wishing for the impossible, and to change things that had already been done. It was too late, but he somehow refused to believe that now.
Finally, he noticed the date and paused.
That... couldn't be right. You used to write in this notebook all the time from what he could tell, why did you stop? Did something happen that day?
If months really have passed... then that would explain all the dust on the box and contents within it, but still, it didn't make sense. Weren't you still here in the Manor? Bruce honestly couldn't think of why'd you would stop writing unless you somehow couldn't reach the notebook, but you couldnât have left, right? Surely, above everything else, he would've notice that, right?
...
Bruce finally looked at Dick, seeing the oldest just staring at old flyers from various events and such you had participated in throughout your life. A life they never got to see.
"When was Y/n's last performance?" He asked bluntly, getting straight to the point.
Dick glanced at Bruce for a moment before looking back down at your desk. He moved some of the papers around before he found the most recent one and looked over to his father with a raised brow.
"About a week ago, why?"
Bruce looked back down at the notebook in his hand, eyes scanning over the date again before he closed it. Looking back at Dick, he asked another question.
"Have you seen Y/n around?"
Dick grew quiet at that, and after a moment he just sighed and shook his head.
"No, I can't say I have." It was only then did he catch what Bruce may have been thinking, "You don't think they-"
"It's a possibility. We can't be too sure just yet," Bruce just wanted to hold onto his hope that you were still here, and even if the chance was small he was willing to take it. He didn't want to believe that they had pushed you so far away that you would not only consider leaving, but actually went ahead and did it. He wanted to be doubtful, but he couldn't rule out anything. Not yet.
"Just keep looking, I'll go ask the others." Bruce stated as he placed the notebook back in the box and headed out the room.
"Keep looking? For what?! Other events we missed? More ways we ignored them? Things they did without us?!"
To say Dick's guilt was eating away at him would be an understatement. It was practically devouring him at this point, and he could just barely take it.
Bruce paused at the doorframe, sighing as he looked back at Dick, "Any hints or clues to where they could be. Favorite spots they might frequent, places where their lessons were held, people they know, anything." He left him with that, causing Dick to just run a stressed hand through his hair as he took a breath.
Worry and regret heavily weighed down on him, but all he could do was carry it for now. He'd make it up to you somehow. He would, and he'd finally get to hear that song one way or another.
As Dick started his search, so did Bruce.
Bruce did a general search around the house, looking for anyone he came across while also trying to look for you. He thought that if he was lucky, he'd run into you. Even if the possibility was small, it could still happen â or he hoped so anyway.
Just this once, Bruce really hoped for the best.
Though, he did end up running into someone, even if it wasn't who he was looking for.
"Woah, someone looks serious. What's got your bat panties in a twist?" Jason asked, amused, "Actually, wait, don't tell me. I don't c-"
"Have you seen Y/n?" Bruce cut Jason off, getting straight to the point.
The sudden question confused Jason as he gave Bruce a weird look, some of his amusment still remaining but it began to die down a bit.
"No... why?"
Bruce took a breath, fingers twitching, "Do you know where they could be?"
"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Jason's own confusion began to take over, his amusement continuing to die down, "Seriously, did something happen? Why are you suddenly looking for them?"
Bruce took a moment, just looking at Jason before he sighed.
"When was the last time you saw them?"
"... A few days ago..." Jason glanced off to the side.
"Jason."
"Okay, okay! Fine. I don't fucking know! A few weeks ago? Maybe?!" He answered, getting agitated already. "I'm barely here enough as it is, how am I supposed to know where they are!"
Again, Bruce took in another breath, but there was something about it that Jason didn't like. Maybe he inhaled too sharply or deeply â Jason wasn't sure, but all he knew was that he wasn't going to like what Bruce was about to say.
"Dick hasn't seen them either."
"And that's supposed to be a surprise, how? He lives all the way in Bludhaven, of course he isn't going to see Y/n. 'Cause they live here-"
"I haven't seen them."
"..." That was a little more surprising, but just a little more. It still couldnât mean anything... right?
"With all the shit you do, I would be surprised if you even saw them on a semi-regular basis." Jason crossed his arms, still not convinced â not entirely anyway. Yet Bruce could only exhale softly, the action bothering Jason even more.
"It's just a possibility. I'm trying to find them. Think you can help out?" Bruce clarified before asking. Additional help would definitely be great, especially because it meant that they could find you faster. He could find you faster.
"What makes you think I'm gonna do that?"
"Did know that Y/n wrote a song that's a tributed to you?"
"... What."
Bruce sighed, "You don't have to do it because I asked you to, or even because I want to find them. You can do it for yourself, Jason. But I'll leave that decision to you." Then, he just walked off to continue his search for you, and the other occupants of the Manor. Leaving Jason by himself, alone...
"That bitch-" Jason cursed under his breath as he walked off, deciding that he'll help look. Though only so he could ask you if Bruce was bullshiting him or not, and not for any other reason...
... Wait, you wrote songs? Like, actually?
Jason just shook his head, already upset enough as he shoved the thought to the side. When he found you he could ask, and how hard could that be? The Manor was only so big, and besides, you were just one person. He could probably find you before Bruce if he just looked in the right places, but the only thing now was finding those places...
Okay, so maybe he saw the problem, but still. This couldn't be too hard. You were the only one in the whole family who wasn't a vigilante, and so it was only about a matter of time.
Nevertheless, Jason began looking around as well, trying to figure out where he should look as he mindlessly checked every other room he came across. Where would you even go anyway? He'd probably check your room first but he figured that Bruce had already checked there, and it wasn't like Jason knew where your room even was. Though he just chalked that up to how infrequent his incredibly short visits were.
Still, he didn't even know where to start, and would rather avoid searching the entire Manor if he could. He tried to scratch his brain for anything but he just... had no idea.
Well, okay, he had one idea, but that was only because of one night. Even then he's still not sure it was you who he saw on the-
["Master Y/n? Are you alright?"]
Jason's thought process was cut off by a sudden voice. He immediately recognized it as Alfred's, and a realization hit him. Right! He should look for Alfred first, he'd know where you are. Alfred practically knew everything about everyone in the Manor, so he'd lnow something for sure.
So, he followed the sound until he stood in the doorway of one of the lounges. The television was on and playing some kind of recording, but Jason paid no mind to it.
Confused, Jason called out, "Alfred?"
When he didn't receive a response, he huffed as his eyes drifted to the television. What was playing, anyway?
You â a smaller, younger version of you â stood in a door way, looking out in the hall before turning back to the camera. Big, innocent eyes looking up. Looking at Jason.
You couldn't have been no older than eight or nine.
[You gave a little nod with a small hum, "I'm okay, Alfred. Just... waiting, like you said."]
A small, soft huff could be heard from the other end of the camera, and the camera moved to be placed down a counter of some kind. Which revealed Alfred to be the one having been recording everything so far.
["Yes, well. How about we do a little something while we wait, hm?" Alfred asked, moving a stool closer to the counter â moving the camera again to be placed on the kitchen isle this time.]
Ingredients and tools used for baking could be seem on the counter. The stool Alfred had place was next to where he was standing, and a good distance away from the stove.
[You looked at Alfred curiously, "What are we going to do?"]
["Oh, nothing too much, Master Y/n. But... I do require a bit of assistance baking this cake, that is if you'd like to help, of course." Alfred patted the top of the stool as he spoke, "Though you can always just watch, if you'd like."]
[You perked up at what Alfred said, climbing up onto the stool enthusiastically with a smile. "I wanna help!" You exclaimed, looking over the ingredients before looking back at Alfred, "But... what cake are we making?"]
[Alfred hummed, pretending to think before be looked back down at you, "Well, what kind of cake would you like, Master Y/n? It is your birthday after all."]
["Really?" When Alfred nodded, you gasped excitedly before suggesting your favorite flavor at the time.]
["Well then, let's get started, shall we?"]
From there, the rest of the recording was of you and Alfred baking. With Alfred helping you when he had to, and laughing lightly when you would inevitably make a mess.
Laughs and jokes were exchanged, and it was probably the happiest Jason has ever seen you... which made him feel weird in a way. He didn't like it, not one bit, and yet he continued to watch the old, wholesome memory play out before him.
Jason watched as you got a bit of flour on your nose and how Alfred wiped it off. He watched as while Alfred was deciding on the shape of the cake, you gathered all the different colors and types of sprinkles you could find, and was looking at a particular color of food coloring. How you nearly fell trying to grab the food coloring, and how Alfred just narrowly managed to catch you. How after that, Alfred visibly recovered from the near heart attack he had gotten from watching you fall, and just watched you add the food coloring to the frosting after you had thanked him for catching you, and apologized for falling.
... It got Jason thinking, if only a little bit.
He didn't know much about you, not really anyway. Even if his visits were few and far inbetween, not to mention incredibly short, someone would think that he'd catch onto a few things about you, or just generally have more interactions with you, but he didn't. All he really knew was that you knew how to play the violin really well, but that was assuming that who he saw that night really was you. Even if he doesn't know who else it'd be.
Jason still remembered that one occurrence despite how long it's been since then... but that was for a different time. He had to focus now, but he still couldn't help but watch the little version of you trying to frost the cake without being too messy, but failing miserably.
It did get him thinking about how many small moments he had missed with you, and just... how little time he had actually spent around you.
Obviously, you weren't a little kid anymore. After all, the last time he remembered seeing you â you were already a teenager. Though was that really a good thing? Jason did remember having some kind of interaction with you in the past... but it wasn't much of anything, and even then he probably forgot half of those moments. What definitely didn't help is that you both didn't have each other's phone numbers, and the only form of communication you had was seeing each other in person.
.... Okay, maybe this whole 'finding you' thing was definitely a lot harder than Jason had originally thought.
["... Are they going to come, Alfred?" You asked, sitting in front of the cake you and Alfred had just made together, looking up at the camera that Alfred was holding once again.]
[Alfred didn't respond right away, but did eventually say, "I'm afraid not, Master Y/n, but if you'd like we could wait a little longer."]
[You shook your head, looking at the cake before looking back at the camera, "It's okay. We can blow out the candles now, but..." you hesitated, looking down at the table, "could you... stay with me? Please?" You looked away, embrassed for asking but didn't take back what you said.]
[Again, a soft huff came from the other end of the camera. "Of course, Master Y/n."]
After a short happy birthday song, the camera was placed down on the table as Alfred cut the cake. It was only after Alfred had given both you and himself a slice did the footage cut out.
Nothing could describe the face you made when Alfred said that no one was coming. Just like how Jason couldn't even begin to describe what it made him feel.
Even when a new recording started, he could hardly pay attention to it as all he saw was your face staring up at the camera. Expression not necessarily sad or upset, but it was easily the most heartbreaking thing Jason had ever seen. A kid shouldn't have a face like that. You shouldn't have a face like that.
Jason was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even notice Cassandra trying to get his attention, nor did he feel her even pull on his sleeve. All he could think of was you, sitting at that table all by yourself. Alone.
He just turned the other way, practically stomping down the hall as he looked straight ahead, glaring.
He had to find you. Now.
Cass, on the other hand, was just confused. Watching as Jason stormed off before looking back at the recording that was playing on the television. What about it had made Jason sp upset? She didn't know, but she was a bit curious.
Bruce had already confronted her and asked her where you were, and of course she didn't know either. He did mention something about how Damian was trying to help a little, which was a surprise in itself, and how Jason might be trying to search for you too, and had asked her if she could do the same. She agreed, of course, just wanting to help out, but having run into Jason just now? That was... odd. Especially when he suddenly stormed off like that, but that wasn't her main focus right now. She still had to-
["Are you still trying to record this, Alfred?"]
Wait... was that your voice?
Cassandra turned back to the television, only to see the camera pointed towards the floor.
["Of course, Master Y/n. Just give me one moment, I almost have the camera set up."]
Oh, Alfred was there too? What was going on?
[Light laughter was heard before you spoke again, "Here, let me help you."]
The camera began to move, and as it paned up, there you were. A soft smile on your face, shining colored hues looking at the camera as you made a few more adjustments before stepping away.
Now, you definitely looked like a teenager or young adult. Voice more matured and settled, almost calm in a way.
["There. That should be good, what do you think?" You asked Alfred, tilting your head to the side a bit, most likely looking at the butler.]
["I have to agree, Master Y/n. Everything should be working properly." Alfred then came into frame, moving towards the counter as you moved around the kitchen isle to follow him. "Now, what is it that you wanted to make this year?"]
["Oh! Right, well..." and you told him, already grabbing a few necessarily ingredients from around the kitchen.]
It wasn't long before the two of you started baking again, but this time around you were clearly more experienced than your younger self â not that Cass was aware of that anyway. You both did your own parts, working exceedingly well together as the conversation between the two of you was nothing but natural.
Cass never saw you talk so naturally, or even knew you could bake, but there were a lot of things she didn't know about you.
She could see that in the footage, you were really relaxed and happy. Almost at ease as you skillfully moved about, as if knowing the necessary steps to make what you were hoping to bake by heart, and how you navigated the kitchen made it look as if you almost knew it as well as Alfred did. It was almost refreshing to see you just be so... in tune with your surroundings, and Cass almost wished she had been there to see you bake for herself. Though she could settle watching footage of you bake for now.
Even if she didn't know why you were even baking in the first place until Alfred mentioned something about a gift for your Birthday, and how that led you to talking about some of the things your friends had given you.
This was... your birthday? Just you and Alfred?
That didn't feel right... but then again, she didn't even know when your birthday was to begin with â and now that she thinks about, had you ever celebrated Christmas with everyone? As a whole family?
... She wasn't sure.
["Are you certain that you don't want to wait, Master Y/n? You never know, someone could show up this time." Alfred asked, looking at you with slight concern.]
[You only smiled, "I'm sure. Besides, even if any of them did come, we both know that it'd be on accident." You laughed lightly to yourself, looking down at the pastry both you and Alfred had made together. "I doubt they even know when my birthday is, but that's okay." You looked back at Alfred, your smile still happy but... there was something off with it.]
["I've told you before, haven't I? You're all the company I need in this house. I'm happy just spending my birthdays like this with you." You took a piece of the pastry and ripped it off before holding it in the air, as if doing a toast, and held it toward Alfred. "So, happy birthday to me?"]
[Alfred sighed softly, but could only smile as he took his own piece of the pastry, copying your actions as he held the piece toward you, "Happy birthday, Master Y/n."]
The footage cut right after, and suddenly Cass found herself in a similar position that Jason had been in just a few moments ago. Just staring at the screen, unsure what to do with this new information, the weight on her chest growing.
Had you really spent every birthday like that? If so... then why didn't you tell anyone? Or had you tried, only for nothing to come of it?
The thought alone hurt, strangely enough, and all Cass wanted to do was... well. She wasn't sure.
She wanted to do so many things, and yet she didn't know if anything would work. Or if anything she could do would fix... well, anything at all.
She wanted to try your baking and... and celebrate a birthday with you. Or maybe she just felt obligated to do so after having seen the recording, but a big part of her did mean it. Especially because she didn't want you to feel alone or anything ever again, not after seeing the extent it went to. Though perhaps there was some irony in that thought that Cass failed to realize.
Regardless, Cass found herself walking off too. Completely missing the figure who turned off the television, and unplugged the camera from it that held all of the footage both her and Jason were shown.
Cass was practically speed walking as she checked the library â remembering have seen glimpses of you in there before â while Jason checked the music room, only for both to turn up equally empty. Yet they kept looking. Everyone did.
Dick tried calling and texting you while trying to see if there was anywhere you could be outside of the Manor. Tim ended up helping as he ran into Dick, and was basically locating and tracking down all the places you've been to with the help of your notebooks and awards in your room. All the while listening to some very earlier pieces you've wrote and played on the mp3 player he found in your box.
Bruce was still looking all over the Manor for you, each minute that passed making him more paranoid and worried. What started as a small possibility was growing into a certainty and he did not enjoy that at all. Damian had decided to search for Alfred, since it seemed like the smartest choice if they wanted to end this quickly. Yet when he did find Alfred and asked him where you were, it turned out that Alfred didn't know where you were either.
While yes, he did know some of the teachers and coaches you've had in the past, he didn't know where you were at this exact moment. How could that be? It was simple, really.
Alfred hadn't seen you in a while either, and once that little piece of information spread around the family... what followed after could only be described as chaos.
The Manor was practically flipped upside down as Bruce, Damian, Jason, and Cass searched for you. Not a single room went unchecked, and when they still came out empty handed, their own worries began to fuel each others.
Dick was the first one to suit up and head out, already calling Barbara as night fell on Gotham, with Tim beginning to suit up â yet Jason had beat him to the punch and was out the second the Manor was cleared. Cass was next to follow, with Bruce and Damian not following too far behind. Tim only left after informing Stephanie â and after downloading some of your songs â and telling Alfred to keep a look out just in case you came back home.
In just a few hours, what started as an unusually uneventful and calm, quiet day for the family, quickly turned into one of the most panicked induced searches and painful night of their lives.
All because of you.
---------
You were tuning your guitar calmly, tapping your foot to the melody playing in your head as you hummed. The silence surrounding you was peaceful for a chance, and didn't feel suffocating or as unnerving as the silence in the Manor did.
Honestly, it took a bit of getting used to but after a few weeks you had grown to love it. Waking up everyday and having someone there to not only greet you, but actually acknowledge you also took a bit of getting used to, but you managed much more easily with that.
Sure, there were other things as well, but you eased into it and had come to accept these small things as just parts of your new life. Yet, you still found yourself appreciating and noticing the smallest things, and almost crying over them too.
It had been a few months since you had left the Manor, and honestly you couldn't be happier.
You now shared an apartment with one of your closets friends, and your career helped you cover your half of the rent, as well as other expenses. You had truly found comfort with this new lifestyle, and even if you'd like to move out of Gotham one day â you could settle for this for now.
This, you believed, was what peace truly felt like.
Even when your phone started to go off like crazy â you just took one look at who it was and rolled your eyes, putting your phone on silent as you placed it face down on the table in front of you. You didn't know what Dick and Tim needed so badly, but you were sure they'd be able to figure it out themselves. After all, they were the sons of the world's greatest detective, right? They could handle themselves.
So you just leaned back into your couch, sighing softly as you mindlessly strummed away at your guitar, smiling a little to yourself when the tune was just right. Creating a melody came all too naturally to you, and all you did was carry it on â humming softly as countless ideas filled your head. A small song beginning to form, even if unintentionally.
A song that went on â with the suffering of Gotham going on in the background. The city being cleared out and searched by the vigilantes that dared to protect it, all of it being done just to look for one person. You.
The shouts and screams served as the base, with the shattering of glass and bones being the lower kick, perhaps. The heart beat serving as the tempo, and so on.
So, just as you had years ago, you played on. Calm and happy in your own little world, unaware of the horrors to come â and destruction being made in your name.
âââââ
Well, that's long, isn't it?
Might be making a another post that kind of details what some of the others did before everything went to hell? We'll see. Maybe.
Sorry again for any mistakes, especially towards the halfway point/end there.
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Welcome Home
Warnings: guns, kidnapping, mentions of drinking and being drunk, running away, a little bit of violence, let me know if I missed any :)
Pairings: Batfamily x batsis!reader
*not my gif*
Summary: You were the one to make the decision to run away all of those years ago, so you really have no one to blame but yourself for the situation you now find yourself in
A/N: This took me a long time- please let me know if you enjoy it
Please donât plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but Iâm asking that you donât steal my hard work
You slowly opened your eyes with a muffled groan, your brain seemed to be trying to pound its way out of your skull.
When your eyes were finally able to squint open, you looked around, trying to assess your location because you didnât remember the last thing that happened to you.
Your first guess was that you ended up going to a party and got blackout drunk, which would explain the headache and amnesia you were experiencing, until you realized that you were tied to a chair in an unfamiliar room.
Your eyes finally fully snapped open and your still throbbing head whipped around in a mix of utter confusion and fear. Your hands and feet were tied behind you so tightly that you could feel your circulation being cut off, and the piece of duct tape over your mouth was making it hard to breathe in your panicked state.
The room that you were in was dark except for what seemed to be a very bright spotlight shining directly at you. The room was big enough and ceilings were high enough to where you guessed that you were in some sort of warehouse.
âOh good, sheâs awake.â An unfamiliar man walked out from the shadows and into the light right in front of you, the smirk on his face sent shivers down your spine. âI was beginning to worry that my men had killed you.â
You only stared at him, eyes wide. Even if you wanted to say something, the large piece of tape over your mouth prevented you from doing so. If it wasnât there though, you probably still wouldnât have been able to say anything out of fear.
Then it all came back to you.
You had been out on a walk, trying to soak in the first spring days sunshine and warmth, when all of a sudden five men were blocking your path.
You could proudly say that you were able to fight four of them off before the fifth one snuck up behind you and knocked you out with something hard and heavy.
âI will admit though,â the creepy man continued, smiling a smile that made you want to cry from the sheer horror you were feeling, âYou put up a very good fightâŚâ he paused and no matter how much you wanted to, you couldnât look away, âBut I suppose being trained by Batman will do that for you.â
Whatever color had remained in your face had now been drained of it and your eyes went even wider.
He let out an evil chuckle, âOh, or should I say Bruce Wayne?â He seemed to have been getting joy from the look on your face, âOh yes, Miss. Wayne, I know all about your father. Itâs not that hard to figure out really⌠but I wonât bore you with the details.â
The tape across your mouth was the only thing keeping your jaw from dropping.
It was true, you had been able to hold off those men because you were trained by Bruce, your father.
You had been a Batgirl, like all your sisters had been, after your mother dropped you off on Bruceâs front step, claiming that you were his daughter. Except you didnât go on to become your own hero after Batgirl, you just went on.
You had moved on with your life when you realized that running around in a Halloween costume every night wasnât the life for you. You could be so much more, do so much more.
Not to mention how bad the city of Gotham was. It was dirty, and always full of crime, and that was not the kind of place that you wanted to live your life.
You knew how much your family would protest if they had known that you planned to leave, your father, sisters, and brothers. But it wasnât their decision, it was yours.
One night while you knew they would all be on patrol, you stayed home claiming not to feel well, then you deactivated all of the trackers that your father had on you and your things, and you left Gotham. Never looking back.
Of course you missed your family more than anything, but you couldnât live the life that they lead any longer. For once in your life you did something for yourself without worrying about the effects that it had on the others.
When you left you changed your name to Y/n L/n to ensure that your family of detectives never found you.
You had left five years ago, leaving behind your two big brothers and two little brothers, and your sisters who all lived separately, to desperately want to know where you were and why you left them.
While you were away, you stayed away from any and all news that had to do with the city of Gotham, knowing that your family would always find a way to be on it. Whether it be for your siblings doing something stupid, your father donating to another charity, or just because they were the Waynes.
Either way, you knew that if you started watching it, you would get even more homesick and go back. Which was something you couldnât do to yourself.
âAnd of course youâll be wondering why youâre here now. But itâs a bit boring really, just a score to settle with your fatherâ He continued after waving his hand dismissively, âSee, I know that you tried to leave Gotham behind you all those years ago. And I also know that you have not seen your family in any of that time or had any form of contact with them⌠As far as they know, Miss. Y/n Wayne dropped off the face of the earth five years ago.â
Your heart dropped to your toes. No matter how he knew this, he was right. Your family didnât know whether you were alive or dead.
When you left, some part of you must have subconsciously banished all thoughts like that from your head so you wouldnât worry so much about it.
He strided over to you and quickly tore the piece of tape off of your mouth, ignoring the small yelp that you let out, âAnything you would like to say, Miss. Wayne?â
You paused, trying to find your voice, looking up at him before you finally asked quietly, âWhere am I?â
Then, he grinned a grin to rival the Jokers, âWelcome back to Gotham, Miss. Wayne.â
-â˘-
âOkay, you remember your lines?â The man asked in a joking manner that was actually anything but that.
You stayed silent, only looking at him as he set up the camera in front of you, the piece of tape was back on your mouth, which is what made him think that his joke was the funniest thing ever.
This made his grin drop, âSmile.â He warned before turning the camera on with a click, the top corner lighting up red to prove it, you quickly dropped your head.
He walked in front of the camera and next to you and clapped his hands together in front of him before giving a goofy wave, âHello there, Batman-or do you prefer to go by Bruce? I never know!â
You kept your eyes trained on the floor, remembering his plan that he told you. And to tryand make up for your scared and weak behavior before, you decided to do everything in your power to go against what he told you he wanted. And that started with not allowing yourself to look up.
-â˘-
Tim groaned, spinning in his chair slowly and lazily, his head lolled over the back as it gently rocked back in forth while he kept spinning.
Jason was cleaning his gun for the fifth time in twenty minutes.
Steph was hanging upside down on the couch, trying to hold her breath for longer than five minutes.
Barbra sat at the computer, playing a game of snake with her head resting in her hand.
Dick was playing with a soccer ball he found, kicking it off of the walls and trying to make it come back to him.
Cass sat in the center of the floor, silently meditating with her legs crossed and arms gently resting against them.
Damain was gently trying to teach Bat Cow how to speak, by using simple words like âimbecileâ and âabsurdâ.
Even Bruce was there, sitting in a chair in front of one of the computers, tossing his cowl in the air and catching it again.
To say that it had been a slow night would be an understatement.
All of them had been patrolling for about five hours with absolutely nothing happening, not even any jaywalking.
It was like all of the crime in the city of Gotham packed up and moved out over the course of a day.
Donât get them wrong, itâs not like they actually wanted there to be crimes going on, but when it didnât they were forced to sit in the Batcave and be bored out of their minds.
âOkay,â Bruce said, finally standing up, âI think we can call it a-â
He got cut off by a loud beeping coming from the tv, causing all of the vigilantes in the room to jump at least a foot in the air.
An image popped onto the screen showing an incoming video.
Barbra furrowed her eyebrows, knowing that the only people that could do that to the bat computer also have their phone numbers so they wouldnât need to do that.
Her and Bruce exchanged a look before he nodded, letting her know to let the video go through.
A grinning face of an unfamiliar man popped onto the screen, making everyone in the room quickly stop whatever they were doing and run over and crowd around the screen.
âIs it-â Bruce started.
âYes,â Babs cut him off, furiously typing away while trying to figure out where this video was coming from and how it got on their screen, âItâs live.â
âCan he-â
âNo,â she cut him off again, âHe canât see us.â
âHello there, Batman-â The man then paused and laughed maniacally to himself, âOr do you prefer to go by Bruce? I never know!â He threw his hands up innocently.
âWh-how?â Jason stuttered out, only to be shushed by six other people.
He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, âFine, a random stranger knows the old man's identity, excuse me for worrying.â
Everyone ignored him though and tried to lean impossibly closer to the screen.
âI suppose that youâll be wondering why Iâm talking to you, though.â He continued, âWell it goes like this,â his smile dropped, âI have a score to settle with you. My father is in Arkham because of you, and I want my revenge.â
Jason squinted, âHe does look kind of like Bane, come to think of it.â
He was once again shushed though.
His smile once again returned, âSo, I sat and started thinking to myself: hmmm, how do you get revenge on vengeance himself?â He put a hand to his chin and pretended to think, then held up a finger as if a lightbulb went off. âThe answer was simple, of course. Take the person he loves most.â
Dick looked down at himself and patted his stomach, âNope, I think Iâm still here. This guy is wack, B.â
âShh!â Jason shushed him childishly as their other siblings glared at Dick threateningly and Cassandra smacked his arm.
âAnd of course by now youâll be wondering what I mean by that.â His voice now turned a pitch higher, âAll of your children are with you, are they not? And your butler is upstairs cleaning the floor of mud!â
Everyone seemed to pale slightly, because it was true.
Just a couple of moments ago, Alfred had come into the batcave and scolded all of them for tracking mud through the house. He then proceeded to tell them that he would be cleaning it up for now, but next time it happened he would be making them clean it up.
The man, who the family was beginning to grow very annoyed with, fake gasped, âBut how could you forget? After all this time, how could you forget who you miss more than anyone in the world, Brucie old boy?â
Bruceâs eyes widened, and his mouth opened a little bit as his children slowly started coming to the same realization as him, âNo.â He whispered out in horror, his wide eyes never leaving the screen.
âIn case youâre feeling a little slow today, Batsy, Iâll let you in on a little secret,â he leaned closer to the camera and started whisper yelling, âHer name is Y/n Wayne.â
Right no cue he moved out of the way and showed your tied up form.
Barbra, Dick, and Tim each let out a gasp.
Jason, Bruce, Damain, and Cass stared at the screen with wide, unbelieving eyes.
Steph, who was still holding her breath, finally released it and fell into a coughing fit. Cass was the only one who seemed to notice, and reached over to pat the blonds back, not even taking her eyes away from the screen.
The man looked back at you and a hard look came over his face, âI told you to smile for the camera.â
He quickly reached back and yanked your head up by the hair, causing you to let out a yelp of pain, which was muffled slightly by the piece of tape that was still over your mouth.
Everybody who was watching clenched their hands as their faces hardened as they watched him do that.
It was you.
After all these years it was you.
And they had no idea where you were.
Right away, Tim pushed everyone out of the way and immediately jumped into the other chair at the desk and began furiously typing away at a different computer, as Babs did the same at her own computer.
âHurry up.â Jason said gruffly, tightly gripping his gun, and this time nobody shushed him.
The man still held a hard glare on his face as he looked down at you and sneered.
Your wide eyes finally found the camera, where you now knew, or were at least told, that your family was watching.
âFound her!â Tim and Barbra pretty much screamed at the exact same time, Tim quickly standing up and Barbra continued to type away.
Everyone looked to Bruce, who was yet to take his eyes away from you, waiting for instructions.
Jason looked like he was about to march out of the cave by himself to go find you before his adopted father finally spoke, this time as Batman, not Bruce, âSpoiler, Orphan, Red Robin, the three of you will hold off any guards that will most likely be there,â He knew that you wouldnât have gone down without a fight, and that the one guy in front of him wasnât enough to do that.
He continued once the three nodded, âAs for Robin, Red Hood, and Nightwing, you will all come with me to where that psychopath is holdingâŚâ His authoritative voice faltered, âWhere heâs holding Y/n.â
Once everyone nodded, he continue, âOracle, youâll hack into the cameras and let us know whatâs going on.â
She nodded as well and everyone began getting ready.
Each of them secretly took a deep breath to try and prepare themselves for what was to come.
Soon enough, but what seemed like hours to them, Bruce was in the batmobile with Damain, Tim, and Dick. Jason was on his motorcycle while Steph and Cass shared one of their own.
âNot much is happening.â The redhead informed them from her wheelchair in the cave, âHeâs rambling about how you put his father in the asylum, B⌠n/n seems fine for now.â
That seemed to make everyone feel the tiniest bit better.
ââŚfather?â Damain hesitantly asked from the back, his voice uncharacteristically soft. Bruce hummed in acknowledgment, not taking his eyes away from the street he zoomed down, âWill L/n be joining us back at the manor?â
Bruce didnât respond, instead pressed the gas pedal even harder, the silence deafening.
All they could do for now was hope and pray that you held out for just a little bit longer.
-â˘-
You had long since tuned out your kidnapper who was rambling about one thing or another.
Your mind was elsewhere, wondering about if your family was actually watching this right now.
You also knew that if they were, then they wouldâve found where you were a while ago, they did have Babs and Tim after all.
But then you were struck with a horrible thought. One that made your heart squeeze in your chest until it felt like it was killing you.
What if they werenât⌠there anymore?
What if after all this time away, something horrible happened to any one of them?
Something that they couldnât walk away from?
And then it was like another sharp knife was lodged into your chest, what if they didnât want to come?
You were, after all, the one who left. Without telling anybody or giving them any reason.
You hadnât even tried to reach out to them for all of those years.
Those thoughts made you so sick to your stomach that you were half debating vomiting on your psychotic kidnapper if you could somehow get the tape off of your mouth
Just as you were about to explore that thought more, the sound of screaming followed closely by an explosion was heard throughout the room, causing you and the still unnamed man to snap your heads in the direction of where you thought the door was.
The man smirked, âHere they come.â He said in a singsong voice.
He began to make his way back into the shadows, and right before he did so you noticed him grab something out of his pocket.
A gun.
You paled even more as he disappeared from sight.
But of course it wasnât you that you were worried about, it was whoever was causing all of the chaos outside.
The sliver of hope that you felt that your family would come disappeared. And now it was replaced with the selfish hope for it to be anyone but your family out there. Anyone but them.
You didnât know if that was just because of the gun, or because you also didnât want them to confront you about leaving.
The sound of a door being kicked open banged through the room, cutting through the silence like a knife.
You looked up and glared against the bright light that still beat down on you relentlessly.
The sound of multiple footsteps running your way were heard.
-â˘-
Steph, Tim, and Cass were doing their job of holding off all of the guards so that Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Damain could all slip into the room that Barbra told them you were in.
They didnât know how the three distractions were able to cause an explosion, but they also learned a long time ago not to question what happened when those three were around.
Once they got to the door that Oracle led them to, Jason kicked the it in with more force than necessary, especially considering it was unlocked, which no one even made fun of him for this time. Their minds were all elsewhere.
They all quickly ran into the room, and it didnât take long before their eyes landed on you for the first time in five years, that wasnât through a camera.
You had clearly heard them, but all the bright lights surrounding you made it impossible to see into the darkness around you.
As they ran towards you they noticed things that they had been too shocked to see while watching the video.
Your hair was a tangled mess, revealing that it hadnât been brushed in a while, so who knows how long you had been here before the video was taken.
You also had a dark bruise around one of your eyes, and the way you were leaning over, they figured you were injured on your ribs too.
Both of those things made their jaws clench even tighter.
Your eyes widened from their glaring position as soon as they came bounding into the light.
-â˘-
They had changed so much.
So much, yet you knew who was who right away.
Call it sisterly/ daughterly instinct.
Your father had his suit upgraded, probably by either Alfred or Babs.
Dick had also had his suit upgraded, and it was no longer that old time disco one that you would always tease and make fun of him for.
Damain had grown taller, and had more muscle than last time, which only proved how much he aged since the last time you had seen him.
And though Jason had a new suit, and probably hero name, altogether, you automatically knew that it was your big brother, even though he as well had grown and gained more muscle.
They slowed to a stop in front of you, and time seemed to freeze for a moment as you all looked at one another, taking each other in.
Dick was the first one to snap out of his daze and quickly rushed over to you, pulling you into a hug that you couldnât recouparte due to your hands still being tied behind you.
âI missed you so much.â He whispered in your ear so only you could hear.
As much as you wanted to say something, tell him that you missed him more than he would ever know, you again couldnât.
He saw this and quickly reached up and ripped off the duct tape, wincing and apologizing as you flinched.
You looked behind your eldest brother to see Bruce open his mouth and was about to say something, but you quickly cut him off, âHeâs still in this room.â
Although it felt like you had just used your voice moments ago to ask where you were, your voice was still scratchy and hoarse as if it hadnât been used in days.
The men quickly put their guard back up and drew their weapons. Damain with a katana, Dick with two batons, Bruce with a batarang (which you had amazingly named all those years ago), and Jason with a gun.
You had no idea how the last one got past Bruce, but at the moment you werenât really complaining.
The sound of a gun cocking, that wasnât Jasons, filled the vast room, bouncing off the walls, making it impossible to tell which direction it was coming from.
Damain quickly rushed to join Dick with standing next to you, sword raised and ready to fight at any given second.
The sound of the man's laughter filled the room, âYou think you can protect her? Even if you could, you think she wants your protection?â He was trying to mess with their heads, âSHE was the one who left, after all. Without giving you a reason, much less a goodbye.â
Even with the cowl on, it was clear that Bruceâs eyes were ablaze in rage.
He then stepped out of the shadows, gun raised and pointed straight at Bruce. âWhile you spent years looking for her, she spent years trying to not be found, running away. Have you ever stopped to ask yourself why that was?â
-â˘-
Of course he had asked himself it it.
Heâs thought about it every day for five years.
Wondering what he did wrong, what led you to run away without any explanation.
He beat himself up over it for years, completely heartbroken by your leaving, as he knew his other children were as well.
Right now though, as he stared down the barrel of the gun, all he could think about was that he just got you back. And he wasnât going to let you go. He would protect you and the rest of his kids until his dying day, even if that day was today.
Bruce hadnât even meant for his silence to be the answer to the man's question, but he was grinning, as if he won the lottery, âSo itâs true then? I could only assume that she hadnât told you she was leaving, but you just confirmed it for me.â
Bruce glanced back at you, but your eyes were trained on the man holding the gun, as if willing him and the gun to burst into flames with just the glare on your face.
He looked at his sons, hard looks on their faces, ready for anything that might come their way, then back to his daughter, and made a decision.
He stepped closer to the gun.
-â˘-
Your eyes widened as you watched your dad step closer to the psychopath holding the gun right at him.
âYou have absolutely no right to talk to me about MY children.â He said, his voice never once wavering.
The man just laughed for what felt like the millionth time, âAnd you had no right to lock my father away. It is because of YOUR actions Bruce that led me to do this. And in front of your children nonetheless! So donât forget, children, this is your fathers-â
He cut himself off as his eyes rolled back and he slowly fell forwards before landing in a heap on the ground.
Steph, Cass, and Tim all stood behind the man, the blonde one holding a pipe.
She rolled her eyes, discarding it to the side after hitting him on the back of the head with it, âHe talks too much.â
The trio's eyes then landed on you and you all once again fell into a silence, staring at each other.
You cleared your throat, âLook, I know I have a lot of explaining to do, but-â
This time, you were the one being cut off, but not because of a pipe.
Bruce had barreled towards you and brought you into his arms in a bone crushing grip, hugging the life out of you.
You stumbled a bit, eyes wide, before hesitantly wrapping your arms around your father once you were sure that it was actually happening.
âDad-â You let out a sob, eyes filling with tears.
âShh.â He shushed you, âItâs okay.â
Soon enough, Cass joined the hug, quickly followed by Dick, and then everyone else.
You stood there, embracing your family for the first time in five years, all of you with tears running down your faces for different reasons.
âCome on. I called Gordon and heâs outside ready to take this man to Arkhamâ Bruce said softly, pulling away after what seemed like hours of hugging, âLetâs get you back home and then we can talk.â
You smiled with still tears eyes, âHome. I like the sound of that.â
-â˘-
As soon as you stepped out of the batmobile and into the batcave, Barbra and Alfred were waiting for you.
The woman quickly rolled over to you and pulled you into a hug before letting Alfred bring you into a gentle one.
You pulled away, looking over at every single member of your family, who all looked back at you with smiles.
âWelcome home, Miss. Wayne.â Alfred said with a small smile.
And this time those words didnât send shivers down your spine like they had when the man said them to you just earlier that day.
âSo,â Dick piped up after a moment of comfortable silence, âWhatâs this I hear about Y/n being your favorite, Bruce?â
A/N: Should I write a part two following the aftermath of this one?
Next part here â> Now That Youâre Home
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Tim: Hey, do you know the password to Damianâs computer?
Duke: Fuck you, Tim.
Tim: Hey!!
Duke: No, you misunderstood, the password is "fuckyouTim".
Tim: Oh, no numbers? Not very safe.
â
Reader: Get on my level!
Steph: Unfortunately, to "get on your level" I'd need a boat trip to the Mariana Trench and a pair of cinderblock shoes.
â
*Dick is fighting a monster*
Barbara : Just stay calm! You already have everything you need to beat it!
Dick: The power to believe in myself!?
Barbara : No, a knife! Stab it!
â
Reader: Sorry I'm late, I was doing stuff.
Jason: YOU PUSHED ME DOWN THE FUCKING STAIRS!
â
Damian: Tim, this morning, I called you abhorrent and reprehensible, and Iâd like to withdraw that statement-
Tim: Aww, thanks-
Damian: But I can't. Those are the 2 words that best describe you.
â
Reader: So, Steph is no longer allowed to take the trash out at night.
Cassandra: Why?
Reader: Because I've caught her trying to train raccoons to fight five times in a row.
Steph, arms crossed and pouting: You'll be thanking me when the third raccoon battalion saves your ass.
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damian wayne doesnât necessarily wear jewelry that often â only a few necklaces and rings could be seen on him, of the highest quality as well; him wearing a friendship bracelet is quite a surprise.
they were made by you of course, since youâre quite literally the only person he associates himself with at school willingly. youâve known each other for quite some time now, so why not get matching bracelets to symbolize that?
âThatâs a stupid idea.â
âYouâre a stupid idea,â you retort.
he merely rolls his eyes, âI donât need a silly bracelet to show that Iâm friends with you, we donât need something like that for peopleâs approval.â
âItâs not for other people,â you explain, âItâs for my own entertainment and for you â a gift.â
âFine, you can make us one.â
in all honesty, he was expecting something simple for the bracelets. something just like each others names on them, notâ
âPissbaby?â his eye twitches.
âDonât worry, mine says âBitch,ââ you reply nonchalantly.
âThis has to be against dress-code.â
âWe have long sleeves for a reason.â
he sighs, âMy siblings are gonna drag me through the mud for this.â despite his words spitting venom, he still lets the elastic wrap around his wrist fitting comfortably and snugly.
âHah, Pissbaby.â
âBitch.â
âYour dadâs a whore.â
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YN: When I said "Bring me back something from the beach" I meant, like, a seashell.
Jason, struggling to hold a seagull: Well, you didn't fucking say that.
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Batfam x reader incorrect quotes:
Damian: And Iâd love to be sorry for that, but we all know Iâve done much, much worse.
Bruce, in a meeting: My policy is if you see something, say something.
You: I saw a squirrel in a tree today!
Bruce, with the tone of someone who is used to You: Outstanding.
You: This is what Iâm talking about people.
Tim: You're the love of my life and my best friend, I would do anything for you.
You: I want you to eat three meals a day and have a decent sleep schedule.
Tim: Absolutely not.
You: Do you have any skeletons in your closet?
Damian: You mean literally or figuratively?
You: Honestly, the fact that I have to specify...
Damian: God, give me patience.
Tim: I think you mean 'give me strength'.
Damian: If God gave me strength, you'd be dead.
You: I've already sent good vibes your way⌠theyâre coming. Thereâs nothing you can do to stop them.
Jason: This is the most threatening way Iâve ever been cheered up.
You: What if the 'g' in 'gif' is silent?
Damian: Go the fuck to sleep
You: What gif I don't want to?
Damian: Fuck You
Bruce: I actually have a black belt.
You: In what, karate?
Bruce: No, from Gucci.
You: Date someone who will drag you outside at 3am to look at the stars.
Damian: If anyone, and I mean anyone, wakes me up at 3am to go look at the damn sky they will be removed indefinitely from my life.
You: Thatâs one of my biggest fears. Like, if I ever woke up as a donut...
Dick: You would eat yourself?
You: I wouldnât even question it.
Tim: Do you think youâd actually notice if someone didnât cast a shadow? Or if their limbs were just slightly too long? Or if they had just a little too many teeth? like how many times have you passed Something on the street and you just didnât Notice It?
You: Stay woke monsterfuckers ur love is out there!!!!!
Tim: Yknow what? Not my point at all in any way whatsoever, but Iâm glad I could be an inspiration.
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