Saternsky - Hello

DAMN I THOUGHT IT WAS HIM. AWESOME ART : D

norway.... its the stick figure guy

redraw of this thing i drew from like 2 years ago

I think the old me accidentally drew cary huang

Dubble Life 12 (ATSV x Reader x Batfam)

A/n: Just a chapter full of fluff for now(Or is it 🤡)

Part 11

You stared at the therapist with a blank expression. Irritation was clear in your eyes. Your defining silence and small glare did not affect the therapist.

"I was told by your father, that this isn't your first session with a therapist." The therapist, Mrs. Dean spoke with a firm yet soft tone. She very beautiful. Maybe in her early to mid 30's. Her hair up in a neat bun, but some curls managed to poke out in a graceful way.

". . . yeah." You gave a short response.

"Well, you already know the drill. So, I'll dive right in. You originally lived in New York. How are you adjusting to Gotham." Mrs. Dean crossed one leg over the other while waiting for your response.

"It's okay." Your eyes seemed to be more interested in looking around the office.

Mrs. Dean nods and intertwined her fingers while letting her hands lay on her lap. "And school? I've heard your practically a genius."

"I guess." You spot a hand drawn picture on Mrs. Deans desk along with a little teddy bear. There was a small corner that looked like it was for kids. It had dolls. Other types of toys. A small table for kids.

Mrs. Dean noticed you looking at her little kid corner. "I work with a lot of kids that your age and younger. It helps the younger kids feel more comfortable."

You nod and let out a small thoughtful hum and focused your eyes back on Mrs. Dean.

Mrs. Dean gives you a small smile. "Back to you."

Bruce had put you into therapy. Which you were not happy about of course. You didn't need therapy. It made you feel weak, and it's not like you can tell your therapist everything. Most of your trauma was due to your life as Spiderwoman.

You got back from your session. Walking into the manor your hit with the smell of fresh baked sweets. You get curious and walked into the kitchen where you see Alfred baking and Damian doing his homework on the counter.

"Hmm. Smells good." You spoke as you walked into the kitchen.

"Sister!" Damian spoke up. His tone with slight excitement. You walked over and ruffled Damians head. "Hey cupcake." You mumbled with a small soft smile. Damian turned his head up to you as you wrapped your arm around the youngers shoulder.

"Ah, Ms. Y/n. How was your therapy session?" Alfred spoke as he pulled out the first batch of cookies from the oven.

"Oh, it was great. Had a wonderful time." Your tone was clear with sarcasm.

"Seriously?" Damian piped up, seemingly not taking your sarcasm into note. You chuckled as you smiled down at Damian. "Your funny cupcake." You ruffled his head once more and smuggled him with a hug and kisses.

"Ugh- stop!" Damian struggled to push you away. You were surprisingly strong. (He wasn't actually even trying)

Alfred watched the sweet scene in front of him with s fond smile upon his face.

Jason walked in. Looking like he just woke up with messy hair while wearing boxers.

"Where's my kisses?" Jason spoke up while staring at you and Damian. You and Damian frown at the sight of Jason.

"I can punch you." You gave the older man a "sweet" smile as you held Damian close to you.

Jason flipped you off while Alfred had his backed turned. Which you and Damian returned by flipping him off together.

You and Damian were watching a drama show while eating popcorn. It was fairly silent. Damian had his head on your shoulder while you had your head on his.

". . .Sister." Damian spoke up in a quite tone while you two kept your eyes on the tv. You let out a small hum of acknowledgement.

"Do you hate it here?"

Damians question made you pause. You lean your head away from his to look at him. Your brows furrowed. "Why would you think that cupcake?''

Damian stared up at you, his expression a little sad but mainly conflicted. Wondering if he should tell you what was on his mind. Worried if he does say what was on his mind, whatever you respond with might confirm with what he asked. "Well. . . I overheard the argument you and father had."

You let out a sigh while turning your head away, clenching your jaw. "Right. That."

Damian frowns and held his head down. You turn your head back to stare down at Damian with small frown. ". . . Hey. Look at me."

Damian slowly looks up at you. Expecting some sort of deep frown or a sad look on your face. But he's greeted with your usual soft smile.

"What I said to Bruce was. . . wrong. I didn't mean it. But most importantly. I don't want you thinking I hate being here. I got you here with me, what's to hate?" You pinched his nose and hugged him. Damian hugs back while letting out a small sigh of relief.

While hugging Damian, you glanced down and see a bruise underneath back of his shirt. You frown and lean away from the hug to tug on the shirt and get a better look at the bruise.

"What is this?" Your tone turned protective. Damian was quick to pull away.

"Nothing! . . . I bumped into a bookshelf pretty hard in the library yesterday."

"Oh. . . Okay." You still had a small doubtful look on your face. A still a little worried.

A week goes by and your back in Ms. Deans office.

"So, do you have any friends?" Mrs. Deans asked with a small smile.

You were seated across from Mrs. Dean. "Yeah."

Mrs. Dean nods. "You don't talk much about them."

"They don't live here in Gotham. But we keep in contact." You were referring to your friends in the Society. It was a lie about keeping in contact part. Of course, you knew you were the problem for that.

"I see. Have you tried to make friends here in Gotham? In school or outside of school?"

You shook your head with a small bitter smile. "A lot of people already know I'm Bruce's daughter. Hard to make friends who, actually want to be friends. You know?"

Mrs. Dean nods in understanding before asking another question. "I'm sure there are a lot of pros to being Bruce Wayne's daughter."

You let out a chuckle. "Yeah. I got a little brother. A dad. Money. I was broke as hell."

Mrs. Dean chuckled at the last part.

"Anything I want I could ask for. I can get it. . . But sometimes I want go to the past."

Mrs. Dean's brow raised at your words. "Now why is that."

You paused for a moment. You had a faraway look on your face as you spoke. "Everything before. . ." You sighed as your mind wondered back to her.

"Never mind." You mumbled as you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. Mrs. Dean seems to already know what you were about to say. But she doesn't press you about it. Not yet at least.

"You mentioned your brother?" Mrs. Dean thankfully changed the subject. She watches your uneasy expression turn into a fond smile. "Damian. Yeah. He's a tough one. He acts so tough and mature, but in truth he's just a little baby. We weren't close at first. . . he actually hated me."

You chuckled to yourself as you thought back to your first encounter with Damian.

"What changed?" Mrs. Dean tilted her head.

You seem to think deeply about her question. ". . . I guess I kind of saw myself in him."

Mrs. Dean became more interested by your words.

"I used to do that too when I was younger. I acted like an adult. Thought if I did that people on the streets would take me more seriously. No one would mess with me if I acted tough." You had that faraway look on your face again. Thinking back to the past.

"I never really got to act like a kid. Felt like that was the only way to be taken seriously by others. To be trusted to do things on your own. I saw that In Damian. But that's not how a kid should act or worry about." You held your head high and gave Mrs. Dean a confident look.

"I don't want him to worry about stuff a 12 your old shouldn't even worry about. I know I probably can't give him what he already has. But I got my love. And that should be enough. . . right?"

Mrs. Dean smiled. "Yes. I'm sure your love is enough."

"Ugh, why the hell is this level so hard." You grumbled as you set down the controller. Getting frustrated over a game and a certain level you couldn't pass.

Tim chucked as he watched you stress over it. Jason right behind him reading a book. "How long have you been stuck on this level?"

"A week." You mumbled as you turn to look at Tim. Catching Jason make an amused face at your frustration.

"Shut up Jason." You glared at the older.

"Wha- I didn't even say anything!" Jason looked offended.

"Your stupid face did." You huffed in annoyance. Tim laughed and hopped over the couch and sat next to you. "Can I help?"

Your eyes lit up with hope. "Oh my gosh really?" Tim gave you a smile and nods. "Yes! please help."

Since Tim already played this game and finished it. He showed you multiple ways to beat this level. You had fun with Tim. You and Jason would argue here and there. But overall, it was fun.

As it got dark. Tim and Jason suddenly got an Alert on their phones. "Sorry Y/n. Me and Jason have to go. But I'll play with you next week."

You were a little sad. And confused at the sudden rush, but you understood. "Oh, okay. Bye."

Jason ruffled your head as he followed behind Tim. "Hey!"

Jason quickly ran out the room as you threw a pillow towards him.

"Do you ever feel left out?" Mrs. Dean asked as she watched you play with a small ball you picked out from the kids corner.

"Left out? No not really." You tossed the ball up in the air and caught it.

"How about I sum out the question. Do you feel left out in your family? With the Waynes I mean."

You hum as you thought about it. "Sometimes, I guess. Everyone treats me good. But I kind of feel like, an outsider sometimes."

"Do you think it's because of the way you were raised that you assume that. Suddenly living one life then now to this." Mrs. Dean watched as you let her words sink in.

"Yeah. I guess so. They knew each other longer and stuff. So that's probably why I feel that way. . . but. It kind of feels like something more."

Mrs. Dean's Brow raised "Why do you think that?"

You shrugged as you fumbled with the small ball in your hands. "It's like they all have this, thing. Like a bond with each other that I probably won't understand. . ." You seemed to think about it before shrugging "Maybe because they are all guys? I heard fathers have deeper connections with their sons."

Mrs. Dean hums and leans back into her chair. "Well, that can be some cases. Do you think Mr. Wayne doesn't pay much attention to you than your brothers?"

You shook your head. "No, he gives me attention. He's. . . a good man. He wouldn't neglect any of his kids. He's also a busy guy. So, if he's not around much I don't hold it against him."

Mrs. Dean nods. "You seem to be a very open-minded person."

It was late in the night when you had awoken from a nightmare. You tried to go back to sleep. But your mind betrayed you. Keeping you up and refusing you sleep for what felt like hours.

So, you wondered downstairs. In hopes of getting something that could make you fall asleep. You slowly enter the kitchen that was engulfed in darkness. Before you could reach for the light switch. The light was turned on by another.

"Ms. Y/n."

It was Alfred.

"Hey Alfred. Sorry I just came for something to drink." You mumbled as you approached the fridge.

"A nightmare?" Alfreds question caused you to pause. "How did you-"

"I know the look of a child who has come out from a bad dream Ms. Y/n." Alfred shooed you to sit at the counter as he made you a warm drink.

You just sat in silence as Alfred spoke.

"Do you usually get nightmares?" Alfred still has his back turned to you as he made your drink. ". . . Sometimes. Nothing too bad. Just need to lay off the horror films I guess." You let out a small chuckle.

"I see. Your father had a lot of nightmares as well when he was around master Dameon's age." Alfred slides the cup to you. You take the warm cup into your cold hands. The warmth sending a sort of satiation through you.

"Bruce?" You took a sip from the warm drink as you eyed the Butler. Alfred nods as he turns to clean up. "Especially after Master Bruce's parents passed."

Your expression dropped slightly. Both parents at such a young age.

"Must have been hard." You mumbled as you thought to yourself.

Alfred glanced to your slight glum expression.

"Yes. Same for Master Dick, and Master Tim. Along with Master Jason. All boys lost their parents at young ages. Master Damians mother left him with Bruce after the death of his grandfather. It took him awhile to move on after that."

You stayed silent as Alfred spoke.

". . . Why are you telling me this." You were lean back against your chair as you stared up at Alfred with slight confusion.

Alfred turned back around and handed you a treat.

"Everyone here has lost someone. Your brothers and Master Bruce will understand your pain. You don't need to hide it."

And with that the butler walked off back to where he had come from. Leaving you to let his words sink in.

"You have trust issues."

You couldn't help but let out a chuckle at Mrs. Dean's words. "Whoa, I just got here. And I'm very trusting. I'm here talking to you. I tell you my feelings and thoughts."

"Yes. But you don't tell me the full truth. Which I don't expect you to. But having trust issues doesn't mean you don't trust someone when it comes to talking about your feelings and thoughts. Trusting someone with yourself is different with trusting yourself with another. You, Y/n don't trust yourself."

"What are you going on about." You lean back into the chair as you gave Mrs. Dean a look of confusion.

"You don't trust that you would do the right thing. You don't trust yourself when it comes to situations that involve you being needed. You make yourself look bad, but not too bad to the point where others don't trust you." Mrs. Dean flips a page from her clip bored.

"You always talked about others in a good honest light. I ask a question about you, and you would either answer in short answers or divert the conversation about another."

"Come on now. It's not like that." You chuckled a little with a lazy smile. Mrs. Dean narrows at how nonchalant you're acting. You're acting. You're a good actor. And she sees it.

And you know she knows.

You are acting smug about it. But why. Why are you playing around like this-

Mrs. Dean catches you glancing to the teddy bear on her desk with a knowing look.

You smirked as you see realization creep upon Mrs. Dean.

There was a nanny-cam in that toy bear. You spotted it on day one. Yet you didn't say anything. You spoke about your thoughts and feelings to her. Most of it was true as well. You were yourself in the sessions you had with her.

You did all that while knowing of the nanny-cam.

"How did you. . ." Mrs. Dean spoke in a low tone. Almost like a whisper as she stared at you with wide eyes.

You simply smiled. "Like you said. I'm practically a genius."

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---

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NEGLECTFUL!PLATONIC!YAN!batfam x GN!reader

synopsis : growing up with a shit mom and constant step-dads and mom's boyfriends, your view on life has grown pretty bleak. you just want to die, since it doesn't seem to get better than this. things can't get any worse, can they?

so reader is very flawed ppl. i’m trying to make this as gn as possible for pls bear with me. asks and requests r open. reblogs are also much appreciated. now that i’ve gotten my e-begging out of the way, enjoy this pathetic excuse of a story

warnings : child abuse, past sexual abuse, yandere, etc

you want to die.

you always do.

staring at the wanna be thug pointing a gun at you, you sigh and roll your eyes in exasperation. perhaps pissing him off will the best way to get him to curl a finger around the trigger. or judging by his temperament, you won't have to do much.

"you? i should give my money to you?"

"who the fuck do you think you are, bitch?" the thug screams at you angrily. his grip gets tighter and clammier. he's not experienced with this. he's probably ganged up with a bunch of thugs to pull shit like this. it wouldn't take much to disarm him. "give me the fucking money before i blow your head off!"

"to a junkie like you?" you are a junkie, too, so you're not too sure about making fun of him for that. "i don't give money to hobos."

that is wrong, too. but you want to piss him off.

"that's it, you stupid bitch!" the thug's stances becomes defensive. his hateful glare is pointed at you while he musters the courage to actually press the trigger. he doesn't look like he'll do it. you've seen countless like him roaming the streets, holding you at gunpoint. he probably won't do it. then again, this is gotham. you don't expect much. either he'll shoot you dead, forcibly take your stuff, flee the scene out of fear, or be dismantled by one of the city's vigilantes. perhaps he'd shoo—

"stop right there!"

damn it.

you think too soon.

a young robin is quick to have the wanna be thug tied up and beat down. you would've questioned why a kid who seemingly looked twelve can do such a thing, but you've learned to not question most things in your life. you merely sigh in disappoint and pick up your dropped backpack before beginning the journey to hell.

"excuse me? wait! where are you headed?"

gosh, his boy-ish voice grates your nerves. makes you clench your teeth. your gaze narrows, but you know better than to react. reaction gains a reaction—one that will never be in your favor. it'll lead to a fight—one that will never be in your favor. you'll end up broken, bleeding, and bruised. now that isn't something in your favor. now you're thinking of favor too much. forcing a smile, you turn around to face the pre-teen vigilante. "yes?"

"are you alright?" he asks with practiced concern. he doesn't actually care. it's probably just protocol.

"a-okay!" the words are hollow. they lack depth. like you. "thank you for your help. i don't know what would've happened to me if you weren't there."

you do know. you wish you wouldn't.

"you're welcome," robin replies with polished words like he's not exactly convinced. "would you like for me to walk you? the city hasn't been safe for some time now."

"when is it ever safe? but that's okay. i live just around the corner, so i think i'll be fine."

"are you sure—"

"completely."

please. why won't he just leave you alone? there goes your plan spoiled by him again. every time you've been in an attempted robbing, he's been there to destroy your chances of getting shot. of escaping. he always does this. this is a repeated cycle between the two of you. he's a flying bird until you shoot him down. your name clearly wants to escape from his lips, but robin nods his head in understanding.

"this seems to happen to you all the time. my wish is for you to be safe."

"this is gotham." the grip on the straps on your backpack tighten. "everyone's gotta go through this. anyways, i gotta go, you know. thanks for savin' me."

"of course."

you don't spare him a single glance. the sky is wrapped up in black clouds heavy with the burden of rain. icy cold wind sings a melancholy tune through the stiff air. the door to your apartment looks like the gates of hell. it's all futile. no matter how many sighs you sigh, how many wishes you wish, and how many curses you curse, you'll still land up in the same fate. without escape.

that is the summary of your life.

taking a few seconds to prepare yourself for the incoming session, you open the door to be met with radio silence. silence is never good. half the time, it means something is brewing for you, and they're taking their sweet time to scare you into thinking nothing will happen. sometimes. not all the time. the other time, it just means he need to rise from his pile of misery first.

the hand of your mother's boyfriend is instantly wrapped around your neck before you can even register why the hell the apartment looks like a tornado hit it. he squeezes so tightly you feel like blood is gushing out of your ears with how loudly they ring. white spots dot along your blurry sight as you struggle to breathe. you can hear a frantic voice telling him to let you go, but you're pushed up more against the wall. this is the norm. doesn't mean it hurts any less. he'll let you go, give you some time to regain your breath, and then rain down bullets upon you.

that's exactly what happens.

your hand goes straight to your neck as your raspy and shaky coughs wreck your chest. he squeezes hard enough for it to hurt but it not show. and then the kicks and punches come. with how much your chest and ribs are struck, you're a bit surprised at how you haven't broken a bone yet. your potential step-father screams at you, but you can barely hear it over the repetition of words in your head. he grabs your bloody face and shout something incoherent before letting you go to kick you.

leaving you in your own pile of misery.

it's normal. yes, it's completely normal. you're used to this. it'll get better. it always does. but you've got the crushing idea it never will.

gotham heights high school—the school you're forced to attend.

the class division is insane to look at, because it's there even from a short and near prospective. how the richest kids got put in a school with the poorest—you'll never know. the only thing you do know is that every one of these kids are pieces of shit. even the ones that pretend to be nice.

tim drake—or shall you say tim wayne—is no different.

even as he helps up the girl who just got roughly pushed to the floor, causing all her textbooks to scatter, you can only eye him with disdain. if he really cares, then he would've beat the shit out of those athletes. but he doesn't. they're all the same—privileged and all. sympathy shouldn't be given to them. not to drake or the wealthy yet somehow bullied girl.

"but y'know what i heard?" your friend drags your attention back to him. zarian leans against a locker lazily, but excitement practically buzzes off of him. "the bruce wayne is coming to our track meet today!"

your other friend, jaylene, rolls her eyes as she applies her eyeliner using the mirror hanging up on the inside door of her locker. she speaks exactly what you're thinking. "only because his beloved son is gonna be there."

"well, still. think about the connections we can make! all the famous people that'll be there."

"keep dreaming. asshat. i put all my money on the attention being on rich the kid. i don't even know why he joined track. varsity, at that, too. there has to be some sort of bribery going on."

an incoming argument is clearly brewing up, so you take in a deep breath to say something, but a new voice beats you to it.

"excuse me?"

you and your two friends turn to face the guy standing in front of you. charismatic, intelligent,  and optimistic—he's an enigma that shines on everyone. tim drake. his black, messy yet somehow in place hair does no justice for his good looks. he's the complete package. rich, good looking, tall, and empathetic. the mere sight of him annoys you.

zarian is the first to speak up. he quirks a brow and offers tim a grin. "what's up, man?"

"you're leaning against my locker." tim rubs the back of his neck. he smiles awkwardly in the presence of the three of you, and it takes your friend a beat to understand what he's saying before moving away.

"oh yeah. my fault," he says as he moved to stand next to you.

the school's very own bruce wayne only shakes his head and tells him it's okay while opening his locker and grabbing a few things. people flock around, waiting for him to be done with whatever the hell he's doing, so they can be back to his side like leeches sucking on blood. he surely can't be this dumb, no? these people don't want to be his friend...

well, it's not as if it's your problem. you wish it is. you and your friends turn to make way to first period, but drake clearly has other plans. he sandwiches himself between you and zarian with a grin of his own plastered on an unblemished face. one carefree of any worry or pain. "so," tim begins. "first track meet of the year, huh? aren't you guys nervous?"

jaylene merely hums in amusement and shrugs. "it gets better. when you've spent four years in track—in front of all those judging people—it wears off. hopefully, you'll get used to it soon."

that is jab, though, rich the kid doesn't seem to catch on. he laughs casually, but even you can sense the anxiety like it was radioactive. ""i hope so. i've sprinted so much i feel like i'll get shin splits again."

you zone out while he has a conversation with your friends. as if drake has ever had experience with track. it took you all of freshman year to just prove that you can actually be a part of the track team, and here tim drake is, parading around about getting on varsity without a single grain of hard work. he's a naturally talented person. good at everything. that's what makes you hate him so much. people like him get everything handed to them just because they're good at it first hand and leave behind people that actually work for it. you want to tell him to buzz off—that he can't talk about how much he's practiced and how nervous he is, but you keep your mouth shut. that is, until he directly addresses you.

tim's eyes narrow at you with comedic suspicion. "you know, you look like someone i know. a lot. the resemblance is crazy."

"eight billion people out there. you never know." your tone is flat, stoic, lacking any bit of emotion.

"gosh, you even sound like him! that's really terrifying."

"well, whoever, it is, i hope i never meet him," you murmur.

your two friends leave for their classes soon, and you and drake find your seats at the back of high school economics. exhaustingly so, you sit together in one of the many desk pairs, and drake uses this opportunity to annoy you any chance he gets. you give off the vibe that you don't want to talk to him. he doesn't get the hint. you don't tell him, though. maybe that's the problems. his shit-eating grin ticks you off when you look in his direction. "what?"

"let's be friends!"

"no."

"what? come on! don't be so cold!" he whines like a petulant child being told no.

"no."

"too bad! you're my friend now."

"tim," you sigh. it's wrong to scream. it's bad to scream. screaming leads to fights. fights lead to you laying in a pool of your own blood. laying in blood leads to missing practice. missing practice leads to less skill. less skill leads to less of a chance of getting the hell out of here. just smile. forgive and forget. know your persona. know who you are. kind. happy. funny. "fine." so you smile with gritted teeth. you smile like you played a cruel joke on him. "we can be friends... i guess."

his face brightens at your fake words like he is just given the the world.

tim drake wiggles his eyebrows playfully and nudges you with his elbow. "you know, i've been trying to get you to say that since school started?"

"really now?"

"really. i'm glad we're going to be friends. oh! should we go out to eat with zarian and jaylene after the meet?"

... there's a chance your mom's boyfriend will get pissed off. he'll probably beat the shit out of you since the track meet would have happened, and you wouldn't need to have an unblemished body for meets. he'd scream, yell, and punch... like his life depended on it... fuck it.

"yeah," you reply shortly after with a firm nod of your head. "we can go to this diner near the theater. i'm sure you'll love the food."

this doesn't mean you hate him any less. he's still rich scum⏤how you're poor scum. he's stuck up, pretentious, and sickeningly sweet. exactly what you hate. you just hope you can have a good time after the track meet. the mischievous glint in his eyes told you otherwise.

"and this is my dad, bruce wayne."

what the hell are you doing?

the sun is setting along the horizon, the air is getting cooler again, and you want to sink into the floor. the plan was to head straight to the diner after this, but rich the kid somehow roped you into meeting his dad?

nausea pools in your stomach from both hunger and the feeling of thousands of eyes staring at you. cameras are flashing at gotham's billionaire as he smiles and firmly shakes your hand. confidence drips off of him disgustingly. his high-tailored suit radiates wealth and money. his stoic demeanor gives off an aura of mystery. you want to lay on a railroad track with an incoming train speeding along the way.

"it's nice to meet you. tim has ranted about his track teammates quite a lot."

there's an eleven year old standing next to him. his eyes are on you like that of an owl's but you neither glance at him or bother to acknowledge him. you just want to eat some food before meeting your doom at that apartment for not placing first like your mom's boyfriend wanted you to. like a goat getting stuffed before slaughter. it always leads down to that. no matter how many times you try to wish it was different. no matter how many times you imagine it to be different. no matter how many times you try to make it different.

"nice to meet you too." you shake his hand as well with a polite smile on your face. polite. calm. gentle. proper. "and yeah, he seems very eager to be on the team."

"of course, of course. well, it is getting late. why don't you come over for dinner some time?"

"maybe tonight?" tim suddenly adds in. at your hesitant expression, he groans in exasperation. "who do you think we are? blood-sucking bats? come on, we can go to the diner some other time!"

you have just met him... you've just accepted being his friend... you aren't the most social person. you've never had much friends, but even you can understand that dinner with the family doesn't happen until the friend and person have come close in a long period of time. jaylene and zarian have other matters to tend to, so it's going to be just you and tim at a diner. not⏤

ding!

your phone's notification's alarm chimes, and when you check who has sent you a message, you feel like getting on the ground to pray to whatever deity for letting you have a moment of peace.

mom: ⏤he's heavily drunk. don't come home.

a part of you is hit with a strong current full of guilt. this is your mother. you're supposed to be there for her through thick and thin. you're supposed to protect her and be her wall of defense against monsters like him. family look out for each other. you have to take care of her... but she doesn't take care of you. this makes you a terrible person. you know that. she'll probably get beaten to an inch of her life and hide her heavy bruises under makeup that was terribly done in a rush. and then, she'll throw whatever object is in sight at you in a fury of anger.

telling you she made too many sacrifices for you. telling you that you're ruined her life. telling you that she should've aborted you like your father had told her to. telling you exactly what you believe yourself. a curse that should've never been born... she'll be beaten within an inch of her life. but you have already lost yours.

after pretending to text her and sliding your phone into the pocket of your sweatpants, you nod with a sigh of joking resignation. "sure. i asked my mom, and she said it's okay."

"wonderful." mr. wayne nods and gestures to the limo you can see in the parking lot. a bit of overkill, perhaps.

honestly, you're still surprised that gotham's billionaire is inviting you to dinner. this man is the topic of magazines, and you're about to take a ride in his limo. how the hell have you ended up in a situation like this? fate is still fucking with you, isn't it?

you find yourself seated next to tim while mr. wayne and his youngest son, damian, sit on the seats to your right. they're talking about something, but once again, you find yourself half listening and zoning out, staring at nothing until mr. wayne's questions pulls you back to reality.

"so how has school been faring for you?" mr. wayne asks in a cool and collected tone.

you laugh lightly and smile as politely as ever. "pretty good. i hope to leave gotham after graduation to study somewhere else."

"who would want to stay in gotham?" tim rolled his eyes, rolling the first place medal between his fingers. "by the way, remember when i said you looked like someone i know? i was talking about my dad?"

your brows rise in both exasperation and annoyance at his claims. now he's just plain, out right trying to make fun of you in front of a billionaire. your shoulders tense, ready to refute his claims, but mr. wayne surprisingly chuckles and rubs his chin while taking a good look at your face. "well, i can see it, but there's eight billion people out there in the world. i'm bound to look like someone. though, i didn't expect for it to be someone as talented as [name] here."

you force a quiet laugh along at the sound of his tone. foreboding. you know tones like this. like he's hiding something that they all know except for you. it means you've made a mistake in even giving in to tim drake's constant begging. why the hell was he so eager to have you become his friend? why is he so eager to maintain a friendship with you? why the hell has mr. wayne invited you to dinner when he's rumored to be mysterious, secretive, and a literal brick wall that nobody can get past?

"you've achieved so much for a child your age." mr. wayne sets his gaze dead on you. "your father must be so proud."

and his eyes glimmer with that same shine you saw in tim's.

ewwww

this was not proofread so forgive me and uh, i will be turning this into a series

um also making a tag list if anyone wants to be a part of it

AHHH LITTLE ERI BEING CUTE <333

Hii, i just read one of your oneshots in which Aizawa and hi sidekick are kidnaped by Shigaraki. So i wanted to request a platonic Aizawa onesjot in which he and his daughter are kidnaped by a enemy of Aizawa with the porpouse of making him suffer by torturing his daughter.

Thankss

I don't think the kidnapped sidekick was my one shot but I decided to write your request anyway. Hope you enjoy it!

He's Projecting - Aizawa x Daughter! Reader

2230 words Warnings: Blood, mentions of torture + Being a hero, Aizawa has a lot of enemies. Unfortunately, sometimes it hits to close to home. Especially this time when a vengeful villain kidnaps Aizawa and his daughter with the intent to make Aizawa suffer for his actions.

3rd POV

Aizawa groaned as he woke up. His neck was killing him from where his head as hanging backwards where he sat. He slowly lifted his head and went to reach up to rub it but his hand was tied down. He immediately became alert and looked down at himself. He found he was tied to a chair. Tugging against the bonds, he couldn’t break free. His next move was to access his surroundings. He looked up and looked around. It was a windowless room that was surprising well lit.

“What the hell is going on? What happened?” He muttered. The last thing he remembered was having dinner with his daughter at her favorite restaurant to celebrate her recent achievement in big project for school. He remembers them were walking home when his memory goes black.

“Looks like someone is finally awake.” A familiar scratchy voice say through speakers he finally notices in the room.

“Dagger?” He muttered. The door to the room to his left slammed open. He looked and saw the man himself. Dagger was an enemy he made early into his hero career. He had a quirk where he could create metal dagger from his own body. Similar to that of his student Momo’s quirk to create anything she wanted from her own body.

“Eraserhead.” He growled. Dagger stood with his arm out, extending past the door out of Aizawa’s sight as if he was holding something. Dagger smirked evilly.

“What do you want Dagger? Where is my daughter?!” Aizawa snapped.

“Oh, she’s right here.” Dagger yanked on whatever he was holding. Y/N stumbled into view where Dagger held her by her hair. Her hands were tied behind her back and there was a gag in her mouth. Aizawa struggled against his bonds furiously.

“Get your hands off her!” Aizawa yelled. Panic was rising in him. “So help me…”

“Oh, Eraserhead. You are in no position to be making demands.” Dagger pushed Y/N into the room while a sleek dagger formed into his hand.

Y/N’s POV

I stumbled forward and was able to catch my self before falling. I looked over my shoulder at Dagger before looking at my dad. I could see anger and panic in his eyes. I felt the same panic as well as terror. I was no hero in training like my father’s students. Sure, he taught me plenty of self-defense but right now, it was useless.

“Dagger! If you hurt one hair on her head…”

“You’ll what?!” Dagger pointed his dagger at my dad. “You are useless right now. And even if you use your quirk on me, I already have my weapon and your quirk can’t stop me from using it.”

“Why are you doing this?” Dad asked frantically as Dagger came closer to me with the dagger. I backed away from him.

“You took everything from me. I was just trying make a better life for my family and I. I wasn’t doing anything extremely bad. A few armed robberies here and there. Maybe a few stabbings when things got messy but I never murderer someone. I never deserved what you did to me. I lost my family. My wife.. my child…” He growled. I hit the wall and Dagger swung the knife. The gag fell from my mouth where he cut it off.

“Y/N!” Dad gasped.

“I’m okay.” I said quickly with a shaky voice.

“You made me suffer…so I am going to make you understand what I went through. Expect, I am going to make you watch.”

“She has nothing to do with this!”

“Maybe, but my family suffered because of you so it is only fair yours does too.” Dagger charged at me. I dodged in a panic and ended up on the floor in front of my dad. I tried to get back up as my dad yells in warning. I was pinned to the ground roughly before being flipped over. Dagger was kneeling over me with a wild look in his eyes.

“Dagger! Don’t you fucking dare!” Dad half commands and half begs. Dagger just laughs.

“Here we go.” He says sinisterly before bringing his dagger down at me.

3rd POV

Y/N screamed as Dagger slashed and carved into her skin. Aizawa could only watch and listen in horror as Dagger tortured his daughter and himself in tow. Eventually Dagger left the room, leaving Y/N bleeding out on the floor. Aizawa carefully watched her to make sure she was still breathing. The subtle rise and fall of her chest gave him some comfort.

“Y/N? Please answer me sweetheart.” He spoke softly. Her head turned towards him slowly.

“Daddy…” She whimpered. Tears were streaming down her face, mixing with some blood. Aizawa flinched at the sight, his own tears building up in his eyes.

“I am sorry sweetheart. I can’t believe I let this happen.” Aizawa said softly.

“It’s not your fault.” She says. He couldn’t believe she would say this. She had always been so understanding and kindhearted. Even in a situation where her life was threatened by direct consequence of his past, she was not placing blame on him.

“But it is, sweetheart. Dagger is hurting you because of me.”

“He is projecting, dad.” She said before flinching as she tried to sit up. After achieving that goal, she looks at him. “You put him in jail and then his wife and kid get killed in a freak accident. In his grief he correlated your putting him in jail, taking him away from them was the direct cause of them being in the accident.”

“How did you…” He was surprised that she knew so much about Dagger.

“Midoriya gave me a whole lesson on my father’s Hero history one day while I was visiting.” She said and they both give a small chuckle. They go quiet. “I just connect the dots about his correlation during his little rant before he, um, you know.”

“How did you get to be so smart?” Aizawa gave a watery smile.

“Touching.” Dagger’s voice echoed through the room.  “Father and daughter having a moment. Disgusting.”

“You’ve made your point Dagger. Now let me go so I can give you the fight you deserve.” Aizawa exclaimed.

“Oh what would be the fun in that?” Dagger came back into the room. He quickly made a dagger before throwing in across the room. Y/N was able to dodge most of them but not all. Y/N screamed as the blade lodged into her thigh.

“No!” Aizawa struggled against his bonds. Blood began to pool slowly on the floor. Dagger came over and pulled the dagger out causing the wound to bleed faster. Y/N cried out in pain. “Now Eraserhead. What should I do next? Cut off a finger? Oh! Maybe an ear?”

“No!” Y/N screamed.

“Dagger I swear I’ll…”

“You swear you’ll what?! Arrest me? Beat the shit out of me? You’ve done that all before.” Dagger snapped stepping closer to Aizawa. Aizawa gave him a death glare, not knowing what to say in the moment. “You got to think of something new, Eraserhead.”

“How about this?” A new voice cut through the space before Dagger was on the ground twitching from an electroshock. Kaminari stood in the door way with Present Mic and Midnight standing behind him. “I think he is going to be completely shocked when he comes too.”

“Dammit kid. We talked about the puns.” Midnight grumbled and ushered him out of the way. Present Mic and Midoriya rushed into the room with Recovery Girl in tow with Nezu. Recovery Girl and Mic went straight for Y/N while Midoriya and Nezu went to Aizawa’s aid.

“How did you find us?” Aizawa asked.

“Mirio had alerted Present Mic that you two hadn’t returned from your dinner to pick up Eri. After a while more of no word, we began immediately retracing where you went tonight or should I say last night to locate you. Dagger wasn’t the best at covering up his tracks when he took you two.” Nezu explained. Midoriya got the ropes undone. “And a couple of your students refused to be left behind when we came to rescue you.” 

“Thank you.” Aizawa got up and immediately went over to his daughter. She was now unconscious with her head in Kaminari’s lap. He held back tears as he looked her over.

“She’s going to be okay, Shota.” Mic said while placing a hand on his shoulder. Aizawa nods and looks over to where Dagger laid still twitching from the shock. He walked over and lifted him by his collar. Dagger gave a sinister laugh.

“What are you going to do Eraserhead? Beat me to a pulp? Use those fancy hand to hand combat skills on me?” He laughed.

“No.” Aizawa said as he set Dagger down on his feet. “You threatened and hurt my daughter. As much as I would like to pummel you to the ground, I will not sink to your level of petty. But I promise you that you will rot in the deeps darkest cell in the world before this is over.”

“You don’t scare me Eraserhead.” Dagger said. Aizawa shrugged as Mic and Midnight took him away. Aizawa walked over as Recovery Girl healed Y/N. She groaned as she woke up. Aizawa knelt next to his daughter.

Y/N’s POV

“Dad, I want to go home.” I said softly I looked up at him. My whole body ached. The wounds were gone but I knew that I wasn’t completely healed.  He nodded and gently picked me up. He walked out with Kaminari and Midoriya in tow. Once outside, I noticed he was gathering his bearings and the look of realization came across his face.

“What an idiot…” He muttered. I looked at his confused. “We’re only a few blocks from UA.” He said. The sound of Dagger yelling profanities pulled my attention. I saw Midnight and Mic putting him into a police car. My dad ignored him as Nezu caught Dad’s attention.

“I have a car over here to take you two home. “ Nezu said as led my dad to the car. “You are required to take a week off at least. Be home with your daughter while you to BOTH work through this together and get on the road to recovery.”

“Thank you, Nezu.” Dad said as he set me down on my feet. I held onto the car door for support.

“I will send a doctor in the morning to check on the both of you.” Recovery Girl said. Dad nodded and I carefully sat down in the car.

The next morning, the sound of snoring woke me up. As well as being poked in the side. I opened my eyes and saw Eri sprawled out against me. I smiled and flinched as my body began to ache.  I sat up slowly and ran a hand through my hair. I got up and walked out of my room. I walked into the kitchen to go get something to drink. I pulled out a glass and accidentally knocked something off.

“Oh crap.” I muttered. I turned just in time to see a kitchen knife hit the floor. I felt instant panic shot through me. A flash of a knife went across my mind. I screamed and covered my face, dropping the glass. I didn’t hear the glass shattering and uncovered my face. The glass was caught midair and a gentle hand was placed on my back.

“Come on sweetie. I’ll get you a drink. Go sit on the couch.” My dad said softly.

“O-okay.” I nodded. I turned and went to walk out of the kitchen. On the walk to the living room, I noticed I was shaking badly. I wrapped my arms around myself to try and calm myself down. I cuddled into the couch. Dad came in with a cup of juice. He sat next to me.

“Here you go.” He held out the cup. I took it and drank slowly. He wrapped a blanket around me before wrapping an arm around my shoulders. I leant against his side. “It’s not going to be easy sweetheart. There are going to be times where things are going to bring up bad memories.”

“Will it get better?”

“In time but I will be here every step of the way. If you ever need help, don’t hesitate to ask.  No matter when or where, you call me when you need me or Mic or Midnight or whoever. Okay?” He looked down at me.

“Yeah. I will. I promise.” I nodded.

“And I promise nothing like that will ever happen to you again.” He said. A quiet yawn pulled their attention. Eri was sleepily stumbling through the living room. She wordlessly walked over and climbed into my lap, snuggling into my chest. “And I don’t think Eri will let you out of her sight again.”

“You’re right.” I chuckled. I wrapped my arms around her with the blanket while setting my head on dads shoulder and yawning. “I think I am going to go back to sleep now.”

“Okay sweetheart.” He rubbed my shoulder. “I’ll wake you up when the doctor gets here.” He got up and I laid down with Eri. He kissed my head and walked over to the kitchen. I heard soft music start to play. I sighed and fell asleep.  

Tag List: @iris-shihabi @cl0verbby @lilparcheesie @keigos-baby-bird @evilunicorns4minions

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Boxer Pomni only looks very stern but is super cute! 🥹❤️

Design/AU belongs to the lovely @burrotello