PLATONIC YANDERE BATFAM X BASKETBALL-OBSESSED!READER
So what if your family doesn't even have time for you? So what if they ignore you from down the halls or up the stairs? It doesn't matter that you don't get called down to dinner, or that they don't leave you an extra chair when it's time to eat, or how maybe they almost forget your name. It doesn't matter because outside of this home, right now, there's the basketball world.
You weren't really a sports person until you decided to sign up for some extracurriculars anything to keep you outside of the manor. They won't even notice if you're here. Your options: if you go to practice, they notice you're gone. When you're at home, they don't. So you spend all your time there when you could be doing something better with your life, and that something better is playing ball. You're getting good at it. Real good at it.
Just because no one in the manor wants to hang out with you they keep thinking your room is a storage closet, like you don't live here it doesn't matter to you. All this free time you have helps you perfect your craft. Thousands of trophies hang up in your room. They're not hung up on the trophy wall in the manor's living room, but hey, your achievements are your own. Why would you want your prizes mingling with theirs?
You've been playing for so long you finally got scouted by an agency, and you're officially playing for Gotham's WNBA. How come your family doesn't even know? God, they can be so neglectful that at the biggest point of your life, they wouldn't even be able to show up. Of course, you tell Alfred and your mom all about your games and your different seasons and playoffs. Your teammates give you enough love the people you'd rather hang out with than your bullshit of a family.
"[Name], want to hang out? Me and the other girls are hanging at the Plaza."
Your running shoes are already on.
"[Name], come outside. Coach wants us to do extra practice."
Do they even need to ask?
Your brothers always get confused why you're always in a hurry and out of the house in a rush. When did you have places to be?
"Hey, uhh, [Name]," Dick says, saying your name with so much uncertainty, like he doesn't even know you. Well, he doesn't, but still. "Tim, Jason, and I were heading to the movies. Wanna join us?" He says it with a smile that gentle one that he gives all the reporters but his face immediately drops when you turn him down.
"No can do. Coach wants me on the court like ASAP."
Coach? What coach? And on the court? He's completely out of it. The fact that you have hobbies is something completely wild, but the fact that you take them to heart is something that's foreign in nature to Dick. He was expecting you to jump up and down, excited to be hanging out with your big bros, since, well, you guys never hang out. I wonder whose fault is that? But still, the rejection stung more than he had expected.
"Well, that's all right. You can hang out with us later, can't you?" Dick's smile comes back, just for it to get shut down again.
"No," you said simply, putting a juice packet in your water bottle and shaking it up gently. "Doing friendly matches with the girls on Team Metropolis."
Team Metropolis? Aren't they like an elite WNBA team? How was your high school basketball team going to be going up against them, especially in a friendly match? Then his eyes travel to your jersey Gotham Bats logo sitting above your chest with the number five on your jersey. Wait, you're on Gotham's team? He thinks to himself for a minute. In the WNBA? When were you back to playing basketball? He thought it was just a simple hobby you picked up during middle school. He didn't know it was serious. Wait, how come you didn't tell him? He's your big brother, after all big brother gets to know everything, especially something this big.
Before he can stop you to interrogate you, there was already a honk outside of the manor door.
"Trish's mom! See ya, dude!" You grab your gear and dash off.
And Dick just stood there in shock. He seriously didn't know anything about his younger sister? This is not all right.
So many things hit Dick all at once. How come you never invited him to one of your games? He thought he was the favorite brother. How come you didn't ask him for rides to practice? He would have certainly done it without any fuss. Sorry to drop off Damian at fencing, then drop off Cass at ballet, and well, all of that in between, but he still would have taken you. All you had to do was ask. He's literally spiraling. Why would you keep all this valuable information away from him? He's an adult here well, besides Bruce but still. Wait, does Bruce know about this? Does anybody know about this?
Family meeting, immediately.
And just as Dick suspected, no one knew about this. Not even Bruce. But, to be honest, he wouldn't even notice if his child was missing. But of course, the one who did know was Alfred.
"Okay, out of all the people she could have told, she told you?"
Alfred shrugs, putting down his duster. "Lady [Name] knew that none of you would attend, so she asked me. And my schedule is free aside from grocery shopping, so I went," he said simply, like this wasn't a grave betrayal.
"Well, why didn't you tell us?" Duke interrupts.
"Yeah!" Tim huffed, leaning against Duke's shoulder.
"Well, Lady [Name] said, and I quote, 'I'd rather not. They're probably too busy anyways.'"
Well, that was a stab to the chest if they ever felt one.
"Alfred, this is highly unacceptable. If there was anything going on with her, you should have told me or anyone else," Bruce says with pain, feeling his heart slightly crumble at the fact that you wouldn't even invite him to one of your games. She may be busy, but he's not that busy for his own daughter, is he?
"Oh, but Master Bruce, she always invited you to her games. Have you ever tried looking through those purple envelopes on your desk that I leave you?"
Bruce's heart stutters for a moment. "Those were invitation letters?"
"It was from her. She gave you special VIP seats to the games, but I suppose you're far too busy for those," Alfred said with a slight bit of sarcasm.
Now Bruce has been struck with immense guilt. He should have known better should have done so much better, really. What's your favorite color? Of course you would dedicate purple envelopes to him. How did he never notice? It's enough to make him go insane. And from that family meeting forward, it's probably going to be hell on Earth for you and the rest of your teammates.
And right now, they're doing everything in their power to get to know you and understand you. They think they'll be better people for you though "better people" isn't the word I would use. "More obsessive people" fits better, but to each their own.
Bruce has dedicated multiple drills according to your play style and watched almost all of your games, even the ones that lasted at least 10 hours. You've won so many awards. If only you were there to cheer you on, but this will have to do.
Instead of going to practice with your girls, you're stuck dribbling in front of Bruce and the family in the gym. Also, when did he install a basketball hoop in this place? Not just the hoop he installed a full-on court. You didn't know how far Gotham money could go.
And right now, he's been endorsing the Gotham team to the point where all your teammates got new gear and an even bigger stadium to play in. The only thing is that you would have to practice your drills with Bruce and not the others. "Bonding time," he says. More like boring time. You hope he chokes on that whistle he uses.
"You need better formation, [name]!" he shouts to help with your point guards.
What does he know about formation? He's not even your coach. Where is your coach? Next thing you know, the billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne has replaced your coach.
Dick has been going to almost all of your games unprompted. He’s literally been taking the Batjet overseas just to see you play in Switzerland. He’s not even into basketball when did he get so deep into women’s sports? You know what, that’s beside the point.
You can’t even play properly when he’s watching. He literally has your face on his shirt while repping Gotham. Is he a Blüdhaven fanboy? It’s so contradictory it’s annoying. Not to mention, his chants are horrible. You’re surprised he doesn’t turn into a cheerleader right on the spot but with his acrobatic skills, you wouldn’t put it past him.
What’s even worse is that everyone’s looking at him instead of the people actually playing the game. Literally thousands of single moms just staring at him when they’re supposed to be watching their daughters play. You think he left with like a hundred numbers after that night.
Jason is slightly more tame, but he’s the reason why you haven’t been able to get almost any interviews. The guy scares off any reporter who comes near you.
“Ms. Wayne, may I ask you a question about today’s game?”
Before you can even reply, you see the color drain from the reporter’s face as they slowly step away. You turn your head to the other side and see a pissed-off Jason sitting in his front-row VIP seat. God, that guy needs to get a life. Honestly, everyone you know needs to get a life.
Tim has fun tracking your every move on Instagram, Twitter, TikTok whatever. He’s watched every single interview, every talk show, every podcast you’ve ever been invited to. It’s genuinely ridiculous. He’s watched them back to back to back, to the point where even the slightest thing you mention ends up in passing conversations you may or may not have with him. He literally knows everything, and it’s seriously uncomfortable.
“[Name], you said your favorite color was royal purple, but then you wore a periwinkle-purple dress to the Women’s Association of Sports. Don’t you think your fans might get the wrong idea?”
You’re about ready to wring that freak by the throat.
And Duke he thinks he can go toe-to-toe with you in a 1v1 match. Sure, he’s a good player, but he’s not that good. You’ve crossed his ankles more times than you can count, but he still wants to play. He’s like a toddler that won’t leave you alone. It’s seriously getting annoying.
Now he’s invited Cass and Damian into the mix, and they like to 3v1 you as “practice.” This is not practice. This is human torture.
“Hey, [Name], let’s play another one!”
You’re practically sweating buckets, but Duke is still dribbling that damn ball. Cass is actually a force to be reckoned with she may not know all the rules, which somehow makes it worse. And Damian… Damian just wants to prove himself, which is enough to make you want to quit the sport altogether.
Babs thinks it’s cute that all three of you are getting along.
“Oh, Stephs coming early for my visit with her mom! How about you join in on the fun?”
You’re going to flip that damn girl’s wheelchair over if she comes up with another suggestion. God, you miss it when you were ignored.
