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They're so cute tf

Batsis Meet The Batboys

Batsis x Batfamily One-Shot

Word Count: 4.1K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst

Author's Note: Y'all, I am slowly but surely making good on that promise to get all my stories reposted--also editing them so they're nice and neat! Enjoy! -Thorne

Dick:

She hummed in amusement as her father grunted and begrudgingly passed over another five into the man’s hand. “You know…it’s good to know that my perfect father actually sucks at something.” She turned and popped a piece of cotton candy into her mouth. “And it’s carnival games.”

He grunted again when he missed the balloon, and he handed her the darts. “Why don’t you try it, sweetheart?”

She handed him the cotton candy with a grin and took the darts, holding one up and making the repeated motion of throwing it. She couldn’t help but feel a little cocky as she asked, “Dad, if I get this, what toy do you want?”

She nodded to the bat in the corner. “I was thinking about the stuffed bat. Eh, dad?” He glared at her, but she laughed as she tossed the weighted dart, watching as it hit center and she pointed to the bat. “I’ll take that one.”

The man handed it to her, and they walked off; she held it up to her father. “Here. A bat for Batman,” she quipped, and he grunted at her.

“That isn’t funny, (Y/N).”

She shrugged and retorted, “It’s a little funny. You just have no sense of humor because you’re a stick in the mud.” (Y/N) shoved the stuffed animal in her backpack before reaching up and taking her father’s hand; she glanced down at her wristwatch on the opposite hand and said, “The performances don’t start for another twenty minutes. Want to go look at something else? I saw one of those spinning car rides. We could do that.”

When he didn’t give her response, she looked back up at him to see him staring off into the distance, his eyes set on the Wayne Enterprises tower. “Dad? You okay?”

He blinked as if startled from his thoughts and he directed his gaze down at her and after a few moments, he nodded. “Just thinking.”

“Penny for your thoughts.”

“I haven’t spent a lot of time with you.” He frowned and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I haven’t been a good—”

She cut him off with a ‘pfft’. “Dad, it’s alright. I’m not angry.” (Y/N) squeezed his hand in return. “I might be young, but I’m not an idiot. I know being a dad is new for you, especially since you didn’t get to watch me grow up the first decade of my life. But what matters is that you’re here now, and you’re doing the best you can. And that’s all I ask of you.”

At her little speech, he was stunned, and after a moment he knelt down and hugged her. “I love you, sweetheart.”

(Y/N) returned the hug, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, though they were so big and broad that she couldn’t meet her hands around his back. “I love you too, dad.”

Happening to glance over his shoulder, she immediately gasped. “Dad!”

He let her go, immediately moving to protect her. “What? What is it?”

(Y/N) pointed towards a costumed family walking and greeting the people. “It’s the Flying Grayson’s!” She grabbed his hand and tugged him along in their direction. “Let’s get a picture with them!” She could hear her father chuckle behind her, but he followed, and they stepped up to the family.

(Y/N) waved at them. “Hi Mister and Missus Grayson! Can we get a picture with you?”

The man and woman smiled at them and nodded, and a boy a couple years younger than her stepped up.

He stuck out his hand. “Hi, I’m Richard Grayson. But you can call me Dick.”

(Y/N) took his hand and shook it. “(Y/N) Wayne. Nice to meet you, Dick.” She gestured to her father. “This is my dad, Bruce Wayne.”

Her father smiled and tipped his head towards the boy before handing the camera to someone and stepping beside her. She and Dick had become friends instantaneously as they slung their arms around each other’s necks, their grins cheesy and wide.

The camera flashed and the man handed Bruce the camera, and (Y/N) nodded to the family. “Thank you for taking a picture with us.” They started to walk away, but she stopped them, motioning to her dad. “Can my dad take a picture of the three of you? I know it seems a little weird, but it’d be cool to have a picture of you guys, and one with you.” They nodded at her request and she gestured to her father, watching him take the photo of the family. “Thank you!”

They waved and walked off, leaving them, and she turned to Bruce. “Wanna go find seats?” He nodded, and they began moving in the direction of the tent.

***

Time seemed to grind to a halt as (Y/N)’s heart stopped in her chest as she watched them slam into the ground. Chaos filled the tent in mere seconds, people screaming, children crying, and her father grabbed her arm. “(Y/N)—”

She nodded and pulled her arm away, already starting to make her way from her seat. “I’ve got him. Go.” She didn’t wait for his reply, hopping the seats until her feet hit the dirt ground and she broke into a sprint towards the sobbing boy in the center.

She twisted her feet and slid on the ground next to him, her heart tightened when he gazed up at her, sky blue eyes wide in agony. (Y/N) reached out, wrapping her arms around him. “I’ve got you Dick. I’ve got you kid.”

She felt his arms come around her middle as his head burrowed in her shoulder; his entire body shook with every heart-wrenching sob, and (Y/N) raised one of her hands, running it through his hair as she whispered repeatedly, “I’ve got you.”

(Y/N) heard GCPD officers shouting, and she looked up, seeing her father standing beside them. “Batman,” she whispered softly.

He glanced at her before kneeling beside them and blocking the way of the fallen couple. “You two shouldn’t look at this anymore.”

She nodded and squeezed the boy on the shoulder. “Dick. We need to get away from here.”

“I can’t…leave them.” He pulled back, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I’m…all alone.”

(Y/N) shook her head, and placed a hand on his cheek. “I’m here, Dick. You’re not alone.” His face pinched as a new round of tears sprouted in his eyes and he lowered his head, the sobs wracking his body, and she gazed up at her father’s face, knowing the agony behind the white slits. “You’re not alone.”

Jason:

She walked alongside her father, tugging at the collar of her suit. “Can’t we make a suit that doesn’t choke me as much as this collar does? I feel like I’ve got one of Ivy’s vines wrapped around my throat.” He didn’t say anything and she rolled her eyes. “Fine. Fine. Ignore me. I see how it is.”

“You’re the one who designed your suit, Batgirl. I told you to choose breathable fabric but you refused and said you wanted adequate protection like mine.”

She blinked and glared at him. “Do you get some sick pleasure from repeating my apparent failures?” He chuckled lightly, and she looked around. “Whatever…I still think you shouldn’t have parked in Crime Alley. You know there’s always trouble here.”

“The Batmobile is fine,” he said, voice tired as if he’d answered the question a hundred times before—he had.

(Y/N) hummed, nodding to the car a few feet ahead of them and quipped, “Oh, so the kid jacking the tires off it is completely normal?”

Her father looked at her split second before turning to see it, his eyes widening in disbelief as he muttered, “I don’t believe what I’m seeing.” He moved soundlessly towards the boy, her following.

“Got to give it to him. It takes some big balls to jack the Batman’s ride,” she admired and he grunted, though she knew he was in agreement, and they walked up on the oblivious boy.

She watched her father pull his ‘Put-The-Fear-Of-Batman-Into-‘Em’ stance and he cleared his throat with an exaggerated, ‘ahem’. (Y/N) snorted at the way the boy jerked, twisting to see them staring at him; she swore he’d shit himself the way the fear bled into his eyes.

Her father glared at the kid. “You do realize that’s the Batmobile, right?”

The boy’s face pinched, and he tipped his head up, his voice haughty. “Duh. You do realize you parked your car in Crime Alley, right?” (Y/N) barked a laugh, but quickly coughed when her father turned his glower to her, and he turned back to the boy just in time to see him swinging the tire iron.

“Bad move, hotshot.” Her words fell on deaf ears as she watched her father catch the tool and grip the boy by the front of his hoodie, picking him up off the ground a few feet.

He squirmed, legs kicking out for few seconds before spitting, “You want to beat up on a kid, go enlist in the GCPD like every other bully in this city.”

(Y/N) saw the gears turning in her father’s head as he leaned in, his face inches apart from the boys as he demanded, “I’m only going to ask you this once…So give some serious thought to your answer.”

The boy craned his neck, eyes narrowed as he asked, “What it is?”

Her father gave him a smirk. “Are you hungry?” The boy’s brows furrowed in suspicion, and within the next ten minutes, they were sitting on the hood of the Batmobile eating burgers and fries and sipping on milkshakes.

At one point, she’d reached over and grabbed the boy’s hands; he looked up at her and she nodded to his burger. “Slow down, Jason. You’ll eat your hand at this rate.”

He snorted but nodded, eating a little slower than before as he said, “Sorry. This is the closest thing to a home-cooked meal since I’ve had a home.” He paused and looked out at the city. “It’s funny…I was here once, looking for Wayne Manor.” He looked between them. “I was trying to case the place, but I got lost.”

Bruce looked down at the boy and questioned, “Why do you think it’s okay to steal from people?”

Jason scoffed at his question. “Are you kidding me? Look at this view.” He motioned to the buildings in the distance. “Freaking ‘Billionaire Playboy’ thinks he’s the king of the world. Pfft.”

(Y/N) elbowed him in the ribs and quipped, “Oh honey, he doesn’t think he is. He knows he is.”

The two of them cackled, but the solemn look from her father made their laughter fall short and he said, “Sometimes you just have to give people a chance Jason…they’ll usually surprise you.”

Her father’s words made Jason pause, and she saw him sink into deep thought. After a few moments, she leaned across Jason and nudged her father.

He looked at her and she tipped her head to Jason. “Does this mean he’s coming home with us?” Her father looked at him and back to her, then nodded and she shifted her arm, grinning as she wrapped it around Jason’s neck. “Well then, welcome to the family…little brother.”

Tim:

She could sense the boy following her, and after a few moments, she realized he wasn’t giving up. It wasn’t just some coincidence that they were on the same path—he wanted something from her. She glanced over her shoulder before ducking into the shadows of an alley, waiting for him to follow.

Sure enough, he stepped into the opening of the alley, looking for her, then he shook his head and stamped his foot on the ground. “No-no-no. I was so close to finding her.” He sighed and his shoulders fell in defeat as he visibly deflated.

She stepped behind him and gripped his shoulder in an steel-tight grasp, inquiring, “Why are you following me, kid?”

The kid gasped like he’d been shot as his knees collapsed beneath him, falling from her grip and to the ground. He rolled and gazed up at her with a mixture of shock and wonder as he breathed, “Batgirl.”

She glared down at him and demanded, “Answer my question before I call GCPD for you being out past curfew. Why. Are. You. Following. Me.”

He swallowed thickly before nodding rapidly. “Right. You see, I’ve been looking for you, Batgirl.”

“Yeah, I got that from the tailing. What I wanna know is, why?”

“I need to talk to you about Batman.”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion at the mention of her father. “What’s a scrawny-ass kid like you, need to talk about Batman with me for?”

His mouth opened, then it snapped shut and he seemed to think on his answer for a moment. He looked at his hands and whispered, “It’s about your brother…Jason Todd.”

Hearing her deceased brother’s name knocked the air from her lungs and she barely managed to get the word ‘what?’ out without sucking in a breath.

He glanced up at her. “I know who you are Miss Way—”

(Y/N)’s hand shot out and she slapped it over his mouth before shaking her head. “Don’t say my name. You don’t know who’s listening.” He went silent as she removed her hand and held it out for him. “C’mon. If you know who I am then that means you know everyone’s identity.”

He nodded mutely and she clicked a button on her wrist; A few moments later, her bike pulled in front of the alley. “Get up. We need to go have a chat.” He took her hand, letting her haul him to his feet, and they walked over to the bike. (Y/N) climbed on before nodding to him. “Get on and hold on.” He followed her order, sitting in front of her, and she took off.

***

A few minutes later, they were stepping into one of the safe houses her dad set up around the city. She closed the door and flicked on the light, pulling the cowl off before gesturing to the table. “Sit.” He obeyed and she opened the refrigerator, pulling out two sodas. (Y/N) turned, taking the seat across from him and sliding his drink over. “Now. Who are you and how do you know about all this?”

He nodded and pulled out a giant book, placing it on the table. “My name is Timothy Jackson Drake, I’m thirteen, and I’ve been following the exploits of Batman, Batgirl, and Robin since I was two.”

(Y/N) cocked a brow at that. “Two’s a little young to be able to remember us.”

Tim looked at the book and nodded. “I know…but I have a photographic memory, and I remember the first time I saw Batman.”

“And that was?”

He paused and his voice quiet. “The night Dick Grayson’s parents were murdered.” (Y/N)’s eyes went wide, and he drew his eyes to hers. “I remember Dick swinging to the ground as his parents climbed the ladder. His mom went first, and his dad followed. Then…the rope snapped, and…they fell.”

Tim quieted considerably and she had to strain to hear him as he recounted, “I got scared, and I looked away. I couldn’t watch…then I heard the crash and Dick sobbing. And I saw you run down and hug him.” He met her gaze. “Then I saw this giant, dark shape falling towards you, and I thought it was going to hurt you two. But then I realized Batman wasn’t trying to hurt you…he was trying to help you both. And he went from being a monster…to becoming some great Dark Knight.”

Tim looked at her. “From them on, I’ve been having the same dream, over and over. I—”

(Y/N) raised a hand, stopping him. “When did you find out who we were?”

He nodded. “When I was nine, I was watching TV and I saw you and Dick, well, Robin and Batgirl. You—”

“Batgirl and Robin. In that order.” She pointed to herself with a face that could only be something akin to the ‘first-child-syndrome’. “I was first.”

A smile grew across Tim’s face and he nodded. “Right, Batgirl and Robin. Anyway, I saw you two on TV, and I watched Dick perform a quadruple somersault.” He grinned rather proudly of himself and declared, “I knew that somersault like I knew my own name. About six months later, Robin made his first appearance. And if Dick Grayson was Robin and Bruce Wayne’s ward, then Bruce Wayne was Batman, and you were Batgirl.” (Y/N) stared at Tim in shock, too stunned to even form words.

He shifted nervously under her gaze. “Um…Miss (Y/N)? Batgirl? Are you alright?”

(Y/N) blinked and shook her head as she muttered, “Holy shit, kid. What are you?”

“I—I’m sorry?”

She huffed a laugh and grinned at him. “You’ve got some damn good detective skills to have figured all that out.” Tim smiled sheepishly under the praise, then (Y/N) stood up from the table, stretching her arms over her head until she heard her joints pop, then she stared at him. “You got a place to sleep tonight?”

“I…no. Not at the moment.”

(Y/N) placed her hands on her hips and hummed. “And why’s that?”

“Well, in the course of looking for you, I’ve also been looking for Dick. But I can’t find him. He’s good at disappearing.”

She nodded and pointed to a room. “I know where Dick is. Go sleep in the guest room, and tomorrow we can go find him.”

As she walked past him, heading for her room, he questioned dubiously, “You’d do that for me?”

(Y/N) stopped and glanced over her shoulder. “Isn’t that what family does?”

Tim’s jaw went slack and he gaped at her as she stepped into her room and closed the door behind her.

Damian:

She shut the door behind her and locked it, though there really wasn’t any reason to considering the fact that no one could get into the manor, let alone across the front lawn without anyone inside knowing.

Hauling the bag up and over her shoulder, she found it odd that no one had greeted her yet and her oddity turned into unsettling when she didn’t hear anything.

She dropped her keys in the silver bowl on the side table and looked around the foyer. “Hello? Dad? Alfred? Timmy?” She stuck her head in the kitchen door. “Anyone home?”

There was no response and she hummed questioningly, knowing that on a Sunday, everyone was home relaxing. She made her way to the study and shifted the clock hands, watching as the entrance appeared, then she descended the steps into the cave. It was even quieter than usual, and she felt the hairs stand up on the back on her neck as she made her way to the Batcomputer.

She pushed a button on the keyboard, watching as the screen came to life and said, “Give me the most recent update.”

“Confirmation?” It replied.

“(Y/N) Wayne, Batgirl.”

The computer beeped for a moment. “(Y/N) Wayne. Batgirl. Access level high.” It paused. “Access granted. Welcome Batgirl.”

“Give me the most recent update.”

“Requested.” It processed the request then told her, “Talia al Ghul entered Gotham Bay approximately two days ago, leaving behind Damian al Ghul in Batman’s custody.”

Damian al Ghul? Who the hell is that? (Y/N) raised an eyebrow as she pushed another button. “Who is Damian al Ghul.”

“Damian al Ghul is the biological son of Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul. Conceived…month and day unknown…year was two-thousand-three.”

(Y/N) stared at the screen, not sure if she should feel shock that her dad had a second biological kid, or disgust that he slept with Talia to get one. All the sudden, her training kicked in and she felt someone behind her. She spun around, catching the blade of a sword coming at her. She looked down at a young child, no older than ten, glaring up at her. She’d seen pictures of her father when he was a child, and though he had Talia’s emerald green eyes and olive complexion, there was no mistaking the resemblance between him and her father.

Her eyes narrowed into slits as she shoved him away. “The hell are you doing?”

He raised the sword again and said, “Testing you.”

(Y/N) crossed her arms, her gaze curious. “For what purpose?”

He ran at her waving the sword. “To see if you are really father’s daughter.”

She chuckled at that and dodged each attempt to cut her. “Trust me short-stack, I’m Bruce Wayne’s kid.”

Her insult seemed to set him off and he swung the sword wildly. “I am not short!”

(Y/N) grunted as the blade grazed her arm, and she clenched her jaw. “Alright. I’m done entertaining you.”

She let him come to her, then she twisted, wrenching the sword from his grip before tossing it away and coming back around. She gripped him by the collar and used the momentum to slam him to the ground before pulling his arms behind him and putting her knee in his back.

It all happened within seconds, and he didn’t know how to respond other than to cry out in anger. “Let go!”

She pulled his arms tighter until he stopped squirming and she leaned down. “Take a chill pill, runt.” He still cried out in rage at the name, and she heard someone grunt a few feet from her.

“Let him up, (Y/N).”

She looked up to see her father and Alfred walking towards her. She obeyed, rolling away from the boy and to her feet. “I was wondering where you were.”

Bruce nodded to Damian, who was pulling himself off the floor in a rather heated fashion. “We were trying to find out where Damian had gone.”

(Y/N) eyed him for a moment before murmuring, “So, he really is your kid?”

Damian cut Bruce off, spitting, “Are you jealous?”

She looked at Damian and snorted. “Not even an ounce short-cake.” (Y/N) laughed at the way his face pinched in rage, and she turned to Bruce. “You just can’t help collecting them, can you?” He glared at her and she laughed, walking over and nudging him. “Smile a little, Scrooge. Your face will get stuck like that if you don’t.”

He sighed, and muttered, “I don’t know what to do with him.”

(Y/N) glanced at the boy who was picking up his sword. “Too angry?”

“Belligerent is more like it.”

She chuckled and patted his back. “Don’t worry. I’ve got him.”

“(Y/N) I don’t think—”

“Relax, dad. I handled Dick’s anger, didn’t I?”

“Damian’s got Dick beat by a longshot. I don’t think he knows any demeanor other than attack.”

(Y/N) waved as she walked towards Damian. “No one’s able to beat Dick’s anger. No one in a million years could reach the level of pissed off Dick Grayson stays at.” Bruce grinned as he watched (Y/N) take the sword and move Damian towards the stairs. “C’mon pint-sized. We’re going to explore Gotham.”

“I do not want to go.” He retorted, pulling away from her.

She grasped the back of his neck like a puppy and held him firmly as they walked and she quipped, “I don’t really give a fuck whether you want to or not. You’ve been raised by homicidal psychopaths since you were born.” She looked down at him. “You need to see the real world.”

“My grandfather and mother aren’t psychopaths!”

“Oh really? So killing people for money or because honor demands it, isn’t psychopathic traits? What about when Ra’s kills people because they disrespect him?”

“That is different!”

“I mean you don’t see me poppin’ caps in people’s asses when they call me a whore, do you?”

Bruce watched the two of them climb the stairs, arguing, and he sighed, sensing Alfred walk next to him.

“Almost reminds you of Master Dick and Miss (Y/N), doesn’t it Master Bruce?”

He looked at Alfred, then smiled and nodded. “In every way, shape, and form.”

Alfred smiled. “It is such a good thing that Miss (Y/N) is the oldest. The boys have needed her.”

“She’s their protector.”

Alfred paused, resting a hand on his shoulder; Bruce met his gaze and saw such a solemnity in them as he said, “She is everyone’s protector, Master Bruce. Even yours.” Alfred walked away, then Bruce turned and looked at the photo resting on the desk. It was the first photo he and (Y/N) had taken in their suits.

He smiled at it and nodded. “That she is.”

A Undead Replacement - Batfamily x Reader

Requested by Anon  - an imagine in which alfred is on vacation so lucius fox recommends you to take his place while he’s gone and at first the family doesn’t trust you but after a while they do. Then one day cause tim still doesn’t trust you he sneaks into your room and reads your diary only to discover that you’re a vampire which also explains why you didn’t mind being around blood when you were patching them up after patrols.

***

“So, Lucius recommended you?” Bruce Wayne asked from behind his desk at Wayne Manor. He narrowed his eyes at you as if looking into your soul. You sat in a chair in front of his desk with your suitcase sitting next to you.

“Yes, Mr. Fox said you needed a temporary replacement,” you answered coolly, meeting his gaze. “Since your butler will be away for three months.” He was trying to intimate you. You had to fight to keep yourself from laughing at him. 

Bruce hummed, sensing that you were amused by him. “And you know about our…’nightly’ activities?” 

You smiled at him, sending him a wink. “Yes, I know you are Batman, Mr. Wayne.” He frowned at your bluntness, studying you. You simply met his eye, waiting for him to make a decision. 

“You do understand your duties would include not just the house, but the downstairs as well?” Bruce mumbled, glancing back at your resume.

“The Batcave is the downstairs, yes?” He frowned at you again making him appear like a spoiled child. “I am trained to handle the types of situations you usually have, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce pursed his lips in thought. After a long moment, he finally spoke. “I guess I will trust Lucius’ judgement and hire you.” You smiled brightly at him, standing up to shake his hand.

“Thank you, Mr. Wayne. I’m sure you’ll find my work satisfactory,” you stated cheerily as he took your hand.  

“Your hand is freezing,” he commented, his eyes flickering to yours in concern.

You shook your head. “My hands are always cold,” you replied unconcerned. Your eyes shifting slightly at the truth of the statement. You drew back your hand though, self-conscious. “Now, if you would be so kind, Mr. Wayne. I would like to be shown to my room to unpack before I start.” You picked up your suitcase.

“Of course…,” Bruce answered, guiding you out of the room. 

“You can call me, (Y/N), Mr. Wayne,” you interrupted. You sensed his discomfort at not remembering your name. 

“And you may call me Bruce,” he said, giving you a friendly glance as he led you out of room. You sighed, gazing around at the magnificent house around you. Somehow, you felt like you were about to embark on an adventure. 

***

It took you a few days, but you soon settled into a pattern around Wayne Manor. Each day, you would cook breakfast, lunch, and dinner for whoever was in the manor at the time. You also did the housework, which was a lot considering how big the manor was. At night, you would clean and manage the Batcave. Also, if they required it, you would provide medical treatment for the batfamily. 

The family was cold to you at first. They didn’t trust you, and you understood that since they held so many secrets, but you worked to gain their trust. 

Surprisingly, you gained most of their respect, not from your cooking or house cleaning, but for your medical skills. It was on one night when Damian came in with a deep cut on his arm.  There was a lot of blood, soaking through his costume. 

Dick carried him into the medical bay, minutes after they called to inform you of the emergency. Damian seemed to be slipping in and out of consciousness, his head resting limply on Dick’s shoulder.

“Put him down on the bed,” you ordered as Dick moved to carefully lay him down. You started to inspect the wound, removing the temporary bandage.

“It was a knife,” Dick explained, studying you as you moved with the expertise of a professional. He seemed to be waiting for something. “He’s lost a lot of blood.”

“Yes, I can see that,” you answered calmly, looking up at Dick to see the blood soaking through his costume. “Why don’t you change, Richard? I’ll take care of Damian.”

“It’s only a scratch,” Damian mumbled softly. You gently prodded the wound before grabbing cleaning supplies.

“I knew I shouldn’t have showed him Monty Python,” Dick remarked, leaving the room. He waited until he knew you would be able to help Damian. Honestly, he was surprised when you didn’t react to the blood at all. 

Damian mumbled some more, but you couldn’t understand him as you prepared the stitching. “This will sting a little,” you warned as Damian huffed before closing his eyes.

Halfway through the stitches, Bruce marched in, still dressed in his batsuit. “Is he alright?” he demanded with worry in his eyes. You looked up from the stitches to give him a smile before continuing. 

“Damian will be fine, Mr. Wayne. The cut missed the tendons, so there will be no permanent damage. He will just have to recover from the blood loss, but he won’t need a transfusion. Just rest,” you detailed, finishing the last stitch. Bruce stood on the other side of the bed, brushing the hair out of Damian’s face. Your heart melted at the tenderness of the moment. 

Bruce watched you bandaged Damian’s arm. “You are skilled as Lucius said,” he muttered to himself. Sending him a look, you rolled your eyes.

“Of course I am, Mr. Wayne,” you replied, not knowing what else to say to that. Suddenly, you found Dick, Tim, Jason, Cass, and Stephanie stumbling into the room. The others kept their distance while Dick came to stand at your side.

“He will be okay, right?” Dick asked, frowning at how pale Damian was. You smiled at him before glancing at the others.

“Damian will be fine. He just needs to rest,” you assured, finishing Damian’s bandage to turn to clean up the medical bay. “I have sandwiches ready if any of you wish for one.” Jason, Cass, and Stephanie left the room excitedly for they had grown to love your sandwiches. Tim remained, studying you with uncertain eyes.  

“We should probably get him out of his suit,” Bruce stated, glancing at you for permission. You nodded as Bruce scooped Damian up in his arms and carried him towards the changing area. Dick followed, leaving you alone with Tim. 

You felt his eyes burning into you. “Is there anything you need, Tim?” He narrowed his eyes at you before turning to swiftly leave the room without saying a word. You furrowed your brow in confusion before continuing your work. 

***

Tim didn’t trust you.  Everyone else insisted he was being paranoid, that he had trust issues. While Tim understood he had a hard time trusting people, with you it was different. He didn’t know what it was, but he felt like you were hiding something. 

Perhaps it was the way you avoided sunlight at all costs. If you did go outside during the day, you would wear a hat, gloves, heavy jacket, boots, and sunglasses as if you were trying to prevent any sunlight from touching your skin. Then, there was your eyes. They were this mysterious red color with yellowish circles around your pupils. Everyone else thought it was cool, but Tim was sure it meant something.

Finally, there was the fact you didn’t seem to eat. Everyday, you would make meals for the family, yet Tim never saw you take a bite. Even when you had to taste test something, you always called Damian over to do it. You appeared healthy enough, but Tim didn’t know what to think.

Eventually, after being yelled at by Bruce and Dick for being rude to you, Tim decided to take action. 

He waited until you headed off to the grocery store. Once he saw you disappear out the door, bundled to the brink even though it was seventy degrees out, Tim secretly made his way towards your bedroom.

The door was locked, but Tim picked the lock in a second before slipping into the room. Much to his surprise, it seemed rather ordinary. It was neat, as could be expected since you were the housekeeper of sorts, with only a pair of tennis shoes laying haphazardly in the center of the room. 

Tim inspected the shoes, frowning when they appeared to be normal. Quietly as he could, Tim searched the room. He checked the dresser drawers, under the bed, the closet, and even your bathroom cupboards.  

He was quite surprised when he found some empty blood bags in your garage can. Checking the label, he was even more shock to find they weren’t from the cave for they were blood types none of the batfamily had. 

When he could find nothing else of interest, and was about to leave the room to reveal his discovery of the blood bags to the family, Tim found himself tripping on a loose floorboard. He landed with a loud thump, gasping when all the breath was forced out of his lungs from the impact. Staying still for a moment to see if he had been heard, Tim turned to investigate the floor board.

Underneath the floor board, Tim discovered three leather journals. The first one seemed to be from the 1980s, the second from 1930s, while the last one seemed to date back to the mid-1800s. Fascinated with his discovery, Tim opened the oldest journal. 

After he finished the journal, he moved onto the next one with much anticipation. He was a fast reader, and in a half an hour, he finished all three journals with his mind whirling. Suddenly, it clicked.

Tim’s eyes widened as he ran frantically from the room with the journals in his arms. He searched for the family only to be startled beyond belief when he found you in the kitchen, putting away groceries. 

“Hello Tim, I’m planning to make Manicotti for dinner. Mr. Wayne told me it was your favorite,” you said, giving him a warm smile. He flinched, staring at you with wide, terrified eyes. You noticed the fear on his face, frowning. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re…you’re a…,” Tim stammered, backing away from you. You noticed your journals in his hands, knowing right away what he was trying to say. Sighing, you paused your grocery sorting to put your hands on your hips.

“Well, Tim, I’ll have you know it is very rude to go through other people’s things without asking,” you scolded, loving how his jaw dropped open in surprise. He must have been expecting you to attack him or something. 

“But…but isn’t it also rude to keep secrets from your employers?” Tim replied meekly before taking a step towards you. Your journals were clenched to his chest. 

You tilted your head at him. “I don’t believe any of you ask me if I was a vampire,” you remarked, going back to putting away groceries. “It also wasn’t a question on the application Mr. Fox gave me either.” 

Tim was stumped by your answer, his mind racing for a reply. You smiled at him as if you knew you left him speechless. “It’s something we should know,” Tim finally spoke, approaching the other side of the island in the center of the kitchen. He laid the journals carefully on the island. “What if you suddenly get the urge to drink our blood?”

“You’re stereotyping me, Tim. Not all vampires bite humans for their blood, and not all of us have an uncontrollable urge for blood. It’s no different then food to humans. I don’t see humans going crazy over a bit of food if they’re not starving to death. Besides, I prefer to drink from blood bags anyway,” you explained, meeting Tim’s eye. He seemed to relax a little bit. “It’s more satisfying in a way.”  

“Is that why there were blood bags in your garbage?” Tim asked, raising an elbow. 

You glared at him before nodding. “Yes, and before you ask, I paid for them with my own money. I didn’t steal them from your blood supply.”

“I know, none of the bags held our blood types,” Tim interjected, sinking onto one of the bar stools to watch you. His past fear was replaced with curiosity. “What about the sun?”

Chuckling to yourself, you found it oddly relaxing to explain yourself to someone. You had kept your secret for so long, it was nice to express yourself openly. “Due to my vampirism, my skin is highly sensitive to sunlight, which is why I have to wear so much before going outside. I notice that the older I get, the more sensitive my skin gets. 

“According to your journals, you are over one hundred and fifty years old,” Tim stated, his fascination sparkling in his eyes. “Is that true?”

“Yes, and what is with all the questions? Are you really that concerned about me being a vampire?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him as you finished with the groceries and started dinner. 

Tim paused for a moment, pursing his lips in thought. “At first, I was, but it was only because I thought you were hiding something from us, but now, I don’t know. I’m just fascinated with the idea.”

You hummed, nodding in understanding before dropping your voice to a whisper. “While I know you wish to ask me questions, but I would prefer if kept this between us. Judging about what I know of your family, I don’t think it would be a good idea to reveal this to them.”

“Your secret is safe with me as long as you’re still making Manicotti,” Tim whispered back at you with a playful smile. Your heart warmed as you felt Tim finally trust you enough to show his true colors, even if it was bribery.

“Alright, we have a deal,” you agreed before gesturing towards the journals. “Would you please put these back where you found them?”

“Yes, (Y/N),” Tim replied, leaving the room calmly. His mind kept racing, wondering about everything he could learn with having you in the household. Part of himself wondered if he should tell the others, but he stopped that thought, thinking of the expressions on their faces when they learned about it on their own. 

OUR MUM IS A WHAT?!

Pairing: Batfam Imagine/Bruce Wayne Imagine 

Plot: All is well with the Wayne family, however when Y/N’s past comes back to haunt her, she must not only face her enemies but unravel truths that may break her family forever. P.S. I’m terrible at titles for stories!

A/N: I’ve been so nervous to release the first story since I stopped writing two years ago. But nonetheless I’m so excited to share this with all of you. I worked really hard on it and cannot wait for you to see it for yourselves. Enjoy!

Prompts (If you would like to request a prompt, please include the name of the list and the number of the prompts along with the character of your choice)

70: “ This is why I fell in love with you.” (Love list)

24: “ You need to leave.” (Angst list)

SERIES MASTERLIST 

I settled myself down in front of the batcomputer, watching as my husband’s and son’s trackers flashed at a location within Gotham. I sighed heavily, weaving my fingertips around my necklace as I continued to write up reports from their previous patrols.

Gotham had recently been under siege by Bane and his followers, keeping Batman very busy. However with the leads found by Tim and Jason while they were on recon, they were able to find their base and decided to infiltrate it.

I had met Bruce at a dazzling art gallery opening where the finest socialites of Gotham had been invited to. I had been lucky enough to score a job as a curator, and just happened to also catch the eye of the leading man and Gotham’s richest playboy.

It was very early on in their relationship that he admitted to being the vigilante Batman, which in all honesty, I wasn’t too surprised by due to his sudden disappearances at events and the bruises he’d poorly cover when on a date. 

Eventually we married (in all honesty the wedding was for Alfred, but I couldn’t help but admit how much I enjoyed the first of many evenings of being called Mrs Wayne by my now husband).

Then in tow came the children, one by one. I loved them all so much, and though I craved to have a child of my own, I was happy with the four sons that I and Bruce were blessed with in my life—

‘They’ll be fine Madam.’

I yelped as Alfred’s voice echoed through the cave, turning to see him making his way down the stairs, only to fall back against the seat with a heavy sigh. ‘I know Alfred, I just can’t help but worry at times, especially when these sort of missions occur. Motherly instinct I guess.’

The butler chuckled as he placed down a steaming hot cup of cocoa beside me on the desk, ‘It is not a crime to worry Mrs. Wayne. You should have no shame in that. I know that they lean on you for support but you must remember you need someone to lean on as well. You can’t carry all the problems of the world on my shoulders. Speaking of shoulders, I brought down my shawl, its way too cold to be down here without it, especially with winter drawing closer.’

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