tags : english is not my first language, reader is not referred to as y/n, reader is implied male, PLATONIC BATFAM!!, reader is a bad person, unreliable narrator, reader is heavily implied to have a personality disorder, mother of reader is not a good person, dead dove do not eat, underage drinking and use of drugs, reader is compulsive, Jason is possessive over reader in a brotherly way, Damian is caring in his own way, Bruce is unaware of reader being his kid, Alfred is a butler for reader, Tim Drake doesnât drink coffee, slight Tim Drake/Bernard Slander, Cassandra Cain/Barbara Gordon, and more.
omg i LOVEEE how you write the characters its like i can tell you read the comics and you dont like fandomize them (like how some people make tim take babs job and characteristics and how you didnt forget abt duke, cass and steph ) it is AMAZINGGG also how old is reader? is he 17
thank you so much for sending an ask in, my favorite part as an author is getting asks đ„č!! I really thought I messed up on their characterization lolol so really this means a ton to me!!
I for real thought someone would get annoyed that I didnât add babs to the dinner, but i think I mentioned that she was having dinner with gordon!
I am a huge duke fan so I just had to make him silly and a bit of a menace lolol. and reader is 17! heâs known to skip classes and school. his gpa is @ an all time low but the school is getting bribed by alfred.
again thank u so much for sending in, I really appreciate it and I love to interact with my fellow readers!!
ch.1, ch.2, ch.3, chapter 4 âNine in the Afternoon.â
tw : neglect, hangovers, panic attack
note : 3k words, bruce pov
It was three in the afternoon and you had just gotten away from Jay after eating at the diner, ignoring the fact that he paid for you. You walked out of the diner after giving some byeâs and smiles towards Jay.
Your feet move you towards the buses of Gothamâ unsanitary, disgusting, but cheap. You stood at the bus stop with a numb expression at the fact that Pennyworth was guilt tripping you. You never saw him as a father, unlike contrary belief.
He was nothing more than a butler who occasionally helped you. A bystander to whatever the hell you would call Bruceâs parenting.
You took a bus towards the street of whatever your apartment was in, as you listened on your crappy phone that was way older than what it should be. You kept quiet as you waited for your stop. Speaking in a bus was outright disrespectful.
Sure, you were a horrible teenager that had more than a few addictions, but you werenât a rude teenager.
You grabbed a pack from your pocket and slid out a nicotine cigarette, you didnât wanna be high out of your mind when you entered your apartment. You lit it up with a sense of reverie.
As your lips touched the cigarette, smoke slowly got out when you inhaled.
The bus had reached your stop. You quickly stood up, using the pole to stabilize your quickness, and getting off as soon as possible.
You walked around the street, trying to gather some courage to comfort whatever bull your roommate had gotten into. Last time they nearly kicked you out because of a lost vape. You stared up at the apartment building once you had made a fourth lap around it.
You suck in a breath before you slowly opened the door and got up the stairs. Your apartment was at the fifth floorâ the highest. You didnât have a single thought in your mind, just in a dreamy state of indifference.
Your shoes squeaked as you stood in front of it. Your finger tracing the wooden door before you got out your keys.
Your hands hesitated before pulling back into your pocket, feeling the metal exterior of that key. You shoved the key inside of the lock with a feeling of discontentment, opening it with a slight tremble, hearing the sound. A sigh followed as you pushed the key out and opened the door.
Nothing.
No one.
âŠ
You felt alone. So alone in this apartment. So devoid of everything. You just felt so hollow in this place supposed to be a home. You sighed as you walked in, closing the door. The place was clean but lacked any kind of warmth. Decorations everywhere, obviously, but so dull. This house meant for happiness and jokes was so lesser than what it was supposed to.
You tore your eyes and tears away from this embarrassment of a place, and walked into your room. It is the epitome of who you were as a person. Messy, lived in, and comfortable. You smiled softly at this place as you opened the closet, grabbing some outfit that was clean and good enough to wear for the good-for-nothing manor.
You put on some music, humming the tune as you made it louder.
âCause itâs nine in the afternoon
Your eyes are the size of the moon
You could ,âcause you can, so you do
Weâre feeling so good just the way that we do
You mumbled some lyrics to the song as you grabbed something to wear. A simple red polo shirt that you probably took from Jasonâs closet, worn out jeans that you got a year ago (so it was worn out but still good enough for this stupid Wayne manor), a normal belt that was meh, some random pair of black sneakers, and maybe a few jewelry.
Just some simple rings and a silver necklace of a bulletâ with your initials engraved of course.
You check yourself out with the full-length mirror resting on the floor with a smirk, taking multiple photos of your fit and posing with your cool musclesâ that were nonexistent but you could imagine it.
You snicker as you make a new post with the caption.
âfit fo da dayyyuhh!!!! wt we thinking chat??â
And an obscene amount of hashtags following it. You looked so cool. You ignored the void inside your chest, was this the cost of being hungover?
Definitely. At least you werenât going insane and tapping your leg looking like a crackhead.
You ignored your foot constantly moving up and down when you sat.
It was 6:30. If you walked from your apartment to the manor you would reach at around 7. But if you texted a few friends and called with them just to talk, you would naturally forget about time and be perfectly late.
Your finger collided with the phone as you went to Instagram. You called blonde twinkâ his name was actually Anthonyâ and hit him up with a call. Anthony wasnât a bad guy. He wasnât the one who was bitchy towards you.
âHey, Annie. You wanna tell me why you didnât go to the party?â You asked with a very obvious blatant annoyance.
Anthony said your name with surprise etched to it, âI thought you didnât like calling?â he stuttered with nervousness at the tip of every word. Yup, no way this was bitchy twink. This was Annieâ you refreshed your mind as you remembered.
Annie was your friend since Gotham Mid, he followed you to Gotham Academy with a smile on his face. Annie is the closest thing you have as a best friend. Heâs your moral compassâ after Jason died, of course.
âI like it now. Care to explain, twink?â You snarled, a touch of petulance laced at his words.
âDude! Itâ the fucking place was sketchy as hell! Didnât you see the chats as to why me and Kaden werenât going? We explained it!â Anthony rambled as he listed off the reasons why the place was odd. The reasons mainly being more of a personal problem rather than actual proof that it was weird.
âOuu shii⊠wait so it got raided after I left?â You scrutinized, raising your brows at whatever you had that was in the middle of Anthonyâs rambling.
Apparently, after you had left the party it had been raided by a tip from an anonymous source. It was interesting to say the least, that you were just careless with people and not just⊠disliked.
Maybe you were disliked and careless, but when have you ever cared? You have twice the adored people near you and their approval was all you needed.
Time passed. It was seven something. You and Anthony had been talking sober for the first time in a long time. It was then that it occurred to you that you enjoyed being close. You were cold because they taught you it was the way. You couldâve been a good person.
They broke any chance of you being goodâ They couldâve given you their moral compass, theyââŠ
No use in thinking of whatâs already done.
Bruce took a bite of the steak silently. The sound of forks and knives screeching against the plate was all that there was. Some occasional conversation, never directed a Bruce.
Bruce wanted to be closer to his children, he really did. It was⊠difficult to ask about something other than school â which Jason had been dead to attend, Tim dropped out, Damian was moving past in a blast, and Dick graduatedâ, patrol, or anything.
Tim had been discussing with Jason about some game that they should play, it was nice hearing them finally get along, Bruce noted.
âThereâs this mod on Minecraft that has a helper called Verity, heâs like a spherical thing with a smile faceââ Tim started, using his hands to talk and make the shape.
âWait, so how is it a sphere if Minecraft is all blocks and shit? Thatâs likeâ isnât that impossible?â Jason questioned, he was mid-bite so he put his fork down and looked at Tim with a conflicted expression.
âThatâs exactly what I was thinking! Some people think itâs an animation but I think that thereâs nothing called impossible. Anywayââ Tim continued as Bruce had a small up tilt of his lips at their interaction, amusement visible before he moves on to the next family members.
Damian was simply engaging in a conversation with Stephanie about how to make a bomb be hidden with glitterâ a debate.
âAll Iâm saying that if we blind them with glitter and then bomb the place it could work!â Stephanie animatedly spoke, taking a bite of her steak with a smile.
âYes, but how on earth would we manage to blind everyone with glitter, and how will we get the glitter, Brown?â Damian questioned, frowning once he saw Stephanie eating the steak. Damian took a bite of his salad.
âWe can use those fire drill things-ma-bobâs! As for the glitter amount⊠I know a guy, donât worry.â Stephanie cackled to herself as she opened her mouth to continue.
Bruce smirked at their very peaceful matter, it was days like this where he felt at peace. He enjoyed his children âand Stephanieâ being normal. He often found himself thinking what wouldâve happened if they were just a normal rich family in Gotham.
Dick had just gotten into the Manor after a semi-long drive from Bludhaven, eating the steak with a smile that was as bright as any other expression of his. He finally came back after a month long ghostingâ Bruce thought of giving him a therapist but it would be too much of an inconvenience. He was talking with Duke and Cassandra about their powersâ Cassandraâs newfound blood bending powers at least.
âSo, Cass, howâd you find out those powers of yours?â Dick teased, cutting a bite of his steak and taking a bite. The tease was followed by Dukeâs agreement.
âItâs inherited from my mother.â Cassandra stated, taking a bite of her dinner. âAncestral contract with something called the Midnight Eye.â She continued, reluctant to add on.
âNot like it stayed with me for long. Uncle helped me get rid of it.â
Dick blinked at her nonchalance, then laughed at how stoic she was. âGod, I forgot how⊠calm you are, Cass. We really need to catch up.â Dick replied, smiling.
Duke meanwhile, wasnât saying much, having known all of this from Cass herself. Dukeâs attention was focused on Jasonâs and Tim.
âWait you guys just found out about the Verity mod? Dude it was a hit last month!â Duke laughed, realizing how old his siblings areâ mentally for Tim and physically for Jason.
âShove off, Duke! Alsoâ quit putting a shadow over my food!â Tim frowned, trying to poke at his food but not knowing where it even is.
âOops.â Duke sarcastically retorted, moving the shadow to Jason with an evil smile. Bruce just had a paternal moment when he saw his kid.
âDuke.â Jason warned with a glare.
Duke subtly moved it so he could at least see properly.
Bruce felt at ease, finally letting his guard down. Duke was getting a hang of his powers now but he still felt the need to help him in a wayâ noted to put on his to-do list that he should train with Duke. Bruce started relaxing his back and no longer tentatively doing things.
The bell rung. The bell outside, near the gate had rung.
Bruceâs mind went awry, his mind wandering to whom it could be. Talia? No shot, she wouldâve broken in somehow. Barbara? No sheâs having dinner with Gordon. Selina? She only comes when the kids are out. Joker found out his secret identity? Riddler? Journalist? Superman?â
âHey, Pennyworth. So, you told me to come for some reason. If I knew you wouldnât have answered I wouldnât have come. Damnâ whatâs the point.â You muttered, your voice going through the intercom. It was a bit screechy but Bruce didnât know if it was because of the intercom or if it was just your voice.
You sounded so old. Bruce didnât recognize you. Bruce scoured everything in his mind for some sign at least that he was present enough to know where you wereâ the thought of you staying in the Manor was out of the question considering you had said that you wouldnât have come, meaning you werenât even living here in the first placeâ
The gate and door had been opened by Alfred. You walked in with your vibrant hair, casual fitâ was that Jasonâs shirt before he died? Where did you get a bullet from? You need new shoes. â and a look that was obvious you werenât comfortable or uncomfortable at all.
Bruce saw as your eyes moved around for a place to sit, you ended up settled on the chair closest to the exit and in direct eye contact with himself.
When you sat down on that seat, Bruce could only focus on those dead eyes that reflected the same boy who saw his parents die and only had his butler to help ease the pain. Bruce saw a mirror of himself when he focused on your sunken eyes, teeth that looked yellow from nicotine, black eyebrows that showed how alike you and Bruce were but how you desperately hid it, and those scars all over your body was what made him almost start to tear up.
Did you even know that he was a vigilante? Did you ever get any insight on homework? Did you even still go to school? Bruce felt suffocated, he felt sick. Your face was familiar not because he knew you were his child, but because he saw you when doing drug busts in the parties of Crime Alley. How could he be so dense to not realize this?
Bruce was wearing his Batman gear with Red Robin, they were ordered to check out a Gotham party because it was giving some drugs to underage boys and girls. Bruce took Tim with him instead of Damianâ Damian could do it but he feared his son might get a little empathetic and soft.
Batman was on top of the building as Red Robin went in, stopping the party and getting multiple groans and insults from the peopleâ Batman heard it from the comms.
Batman waited until he saw the dealers outside and there he saw a mop of vibrant hair passed out next to the back entrance. He saw some people crowding you and forcing you to wake up. He saw some movement towards the vibrant haired boy and didnât focus for long as he saw the dealers frantically run out with some bags.
Batman jumped down, stepping on the two dealers at their backâ harshly, for those people that would get addicted because of the same people who were trying to get money in an unsuitable form.
Bruceâs eyes flickered with realization, his eyes on your hair and the curse of knowing who you were and how you were almost going to die of an overdose.
You sat down onto the chair immediately regretting being here. Everything was closing in on you. Your eyes scanned these people you barely knewâ asides Duke and Jacob.
Wait, Jacob? Your eyes immediately went back to him.
âJacob? What the fuck are you doing here?â You asked with furrowed brows and squinted eyes.
âJacob is Jason,â Damian said your name, practically spitting Jasonâs name out, âHe has been like a dog on itâs leash acting like an uber for you.â Damian smirked at his own snark. Jason thought about how Damian was a snitch.
âSo no one thought to tell me that my brother was a zombie? How come I never even knew?â You said, almost screaming. Getting up from the chair as it makes a noise.
âIâm not a zombieâ Iâm just⊠back from the dead.â Jason defended himself, he looked offended at the thought of you thinking he was a zombie.
âThat still doesnât answer my questionâ what the fuck is going on?!â You exclaimed with stress laced in those words.
âWait so I was tracking his phone for nothing? He didnât even know the family secret?â Tim asked, annoyance visible. It seemed like he was about to remove the tracker but the look on his face was to die for if you werenât already dying from how upset you are.
âJasonâ did you remove the tracker?!â Tim accused, pointing a finger at him.
âAye, I had a chance I took it.â Jason replied, hands in the air as mock surrender, âYou shouldnât even be tracking his phone, or any of ours for the record! Quit wagging that finger at me.â Jason scrunched his nose, crossing his arms with a scowl.
âWait, we still havenât even told,â Dick said your name with a confused expression, looking at you, Tim, Jason, and Damian with a dumbfounded expression.
âBack to the topic, shithead! Whatâs the family secret? Why did you track my phone and how the fuck did you even learn how to?!â You said abruptly, cutting them off before they can even say anything.
âQuiet,â Bruce said your name softly, in an almost pained way. âSit down, and Iâll explain.â Bruce answered, gesturing for you to sit down back in your chair.
âNo. You can say it to me right now, Bruce.â You retorted, saying Bruceâs name with dripping venom that could kill Batman.
Bruce looked at you with those glossy eyes, you wondered if a man like him cries himself to sleep at night. No shotâ heâs the billionaire Playboy. Why would he have feelings? This is the same man who left you to fend for yourself in this world to make a man out of you, didnât he?
âAlright.â Bruce said with a small voice. For the first time, you heard Bruce stutter out some words. The thought came in like a burglar breaking into a houseâ the fact that Bruce has feelings. That he isnât an emotionless person who left you on purpose so you could become a man. He was a father. In that moment, all little respect you had for the blasted family had come to an end. All you could think of was to break. Cut. Run. Fight. You couldnât stop yourself.
Your ears couldnât stop ringing. You could see his mouth moving, but could you hear it? It was drowned by the sound of ringing. Something about Batman. Your eyes unfocused and focused again. Your mind was racing.
Your heart moved faster than you could think, you couldâve sworn you were standing. You were on the down on the floor by the corner. Your body pulsed with heat, flashing even. Everyone felt like another inch to death. Is this what happens after a few too many lines and drinks? Noâ itâs from all the lines and drinks.
People were enclosing in on youâ who are they? Why are they here? Get away. Just get away. Away. Everyone. Make it stop. Is this a stroke? No youâre too cool. Why do you get an overwhelming urge to vomit? Why isnât anything going up? Why are you shaking? Men donât have these episodes. Youâre a man. Youâre able to handle this. You can do it.
That was the last thought you had before your nose started bleeding all over your mouth and your mind went blank.
sooo thoughts? sorry I took so long chat đđđ
in my ficâ to make it clear, cass sees barbara as a mother figure⊠not that theyâre together. btw no stephanie x cass because I think it removes both of their characters. Cass isnât mute either, she has a personality and isnât stuck in hong kong like odysseus.
note : 3k words, multiple povâs at the end. Update ; I removed the romantic in Cass and Barbara since I realized that I donât particularly ship them anymore.
Damian never liked you. Not because you were weak or stupid, but because you managed to live without worries. Damian knew this twisted look at you is because heâs jealous. Jealousy and resentment brought him to you.
Damian didnât give you much thought at all, he instantly considered you as a thorn thatâs too dull to prick but sharp enough to notice. He only saw you occasionally, taking in notice of how often you left the manorâ not really. Damian only remembered your often snickering that echoed the halls of this haunted home.
Damian explored the rooms in the manor because Bruce went to patrol and he was on house arrest. Damian wandered out of the dusty guest wing to the living room, his eyes noticed you at the living room. âItâs been months since you came back to the Manor.â Damian thought, taking in the calm at peace look on your face. You seemed so⊠calm. So unlike the annoyed version of you.
Damian felt the urge to ruin that. To ruin your calm expression so youâll know the pain that the rest of the family has to endure. Damian entered as he cleared his throat, making a subtle âAhem.â sound.
âWhat is it?â You asked unkindly, the serene expression on your face cracked into a faint agitated one. You looked up from your phone to meet Damianâs cold green eyes. Damian observed the text messages on your phone which were based over some random conversation that was too inappropriate for Damian to willingly read more.
âYouâre in my spot.â Damian grunted, leaning in slightly with an attitude of a boy who knows everything that youâre planning and is going to use it against you. Your eyes glared him as you crossed a leg over the other. Yes, Damian knew that there were plenty of other spots on the couch but you were in the spot.
âSo?â
That single word tipped Damian over. Why is it that you manage to be so careless? How could you be so free of every struggle? Damian barked at you some insults. âAre you seriously not moving? Youâ⊠Get off my seat this instant,â he said your name, âOff! Now!â
âNo. Snooze you lose.â You replied as you got back on your phone, scrolling through the multitudes of comments that youâve gotten on your posts. Damian snarked at you as he started to throw violations of words at you. Damian didnât know why he was so negative towards youâ eventually he quieted down and dug his fingers deeper into his palm.
âYouâre a disgrace to this family, why would Father ever even decide to keep you? You laze around out of the manor, talking to disgusting low lives when you couldâve been with me. You stay with uncultured buffoons that drag you out to horrible places, do you even know the effects of drugs and alcoholism?â Damian argued but he was sure you werenât listening, yet the nostalgic look in your eyes made him pause in his tirade.
âAlright, I get it.â Your voice cut through the air.
Damian frowned, he just couldnât understand that you didnât want to know how he was caring for youâ in his own special way. His mind scrambled to say something even remotely nice for youâ but the other part of his brain retaliated and gave out a response.
âTt. Fine. If you do not wish to know the horrible side effects of smoking, drinking under eighteen, and making friends with strangers. Donât call me when you die.â Damian scoffed.
Damian wanted to rush into the batcave and scream, he hated how he couldnât ever show the way you saw as caring. Out of embarrassmentâ because Damian felt that was the most suitable word for his very strategic retreat â he ran into his room.
As Damian slammed the door and got in he grabbed for the sketchbook to try and draw anything to get his mind off of how pathetic he was. Damian knew he was weak for you and it was truly impossible to try and vanquish that weakness. What would the league think of him? The heir who adapted to their rules and didnât cry when he was pushed and beaten into fighting back? Or a pathetic Wayne who had been pushed into gaining unneeded emotions such as embarrassment?
Damian drew and drew until he couldnât think. Until he heard the sound of a window opening and footsteps out of it. Instantly Damian remembered those crappy sneakers you had that made a squeak whenever you tried to walk.
Damian got up from the floor, pushing his sketchbook to the side. Slowly, Damian got up and walked to his window, cranking it up slightly. He saw you walking out of the house through a crack in the fenceâ Damian took a note to ask Father about it laterâ and silently heard you snicker as you got out of the Manor.
Damian looked at his watch to see what time you had leftâ raising a brow at how late it was. Damian didnât have patrol today, it was Jason and Batgirl. Father was currently out as well but had forbid Damian to go out because of a Physics test.
You had woken up on the couch of Jayâs. You wondered what time it was, your hand moving around the couch carelessly as you thought where you put your phone. Your eyes darted at every place, the increasingly hot oil stove, the bag of firearms, and the Red Hood helmet. You had a hunch about Jay being Red Hood. You didnât panic, Jay wouldnât hurt you.
You slowly looked around to see Jay in the kitchen. He was making and failing to bake pancakes. You saw the equally burnt scrambled eggs and bacon on the side. You doubted the fact that it was hot. Jay was throwing yet another pancake into the trash.
âHah! Jay canât cook!â You said out loud, laughing slightly, causing Jacob to slowly turn to see your half awake state and scrunch his nose.
âGet back to sleeping,â Jacob said your name softly as he turned off the stove. Jacob gave a subtle glance towards the helmet to make sure you knew, and when he noticed that you did, in fact, not care he exhaled through his nose with a hint of relief. Jay put the eggs and bacon into the trash alongside the pancake with a sigh.
Jacob strode to the couch and sat down near your legs. You sat up looking at him with a small content smile. You often thought how it would be if you found Jacob a little earlier in life. When Jason died you needed someoneâ what wouldâve happened if Jacob was that?
Jacob saw the nostalgic glint in your eyes and leaned closer, âPenny for your thoughts?â he said with a smirk.
âNothing, really. Just thinking about the family dinner next week.â You smoothly lied, you didnât want pity. Even if it was from Jay. Toxic masculinity sure was something.
âOh, interesting. Didnât know Alfred made you take track of family dinners.â Jay said with raised brows, leaning back to his original position and crossing his arms.
âI donât. Pennyworth just calls me before it to come. I never do.â You fondly said, some sadistic excitement came in you, making Alfred forcibly know that you were still alive and donât need him. You didnât hate Alfred, but you sure as hell didnât enjoy him. He had a daughter but left her for the family. Slip of his tongue. Maybe it was Jayâs slip of the tongue saying Alfred, you never told him your butlerâs name.
âAtta boy. Anyway, get dressed. Letâs go eat at a diner. My treat,â Jay gently spoke. He helped you up off the couch. You stumbled up as you held onto his equally calloused hand. Letting go once you felt the dizziness stop.
âWhereâs my phone, dammit?â You muttered as you looked around the room. Your eyes moving and trying to find.
âHere. Charged it.â Jay gave you the phone, you checked the time to see it was 4PM. You scrolled on your notifications to find a text from Alfred about the fated dinner you were supposed to have. Some about your classmates asking when youâll come, random group chats blowing up, and more.
You slid your phone into your pocket as you wore your shoes, seeing Jay wait for you; he gets another â visibly smaller â leather jacket for you. You walked over to him and took the jacket, sliding it on with a wink at him.
âTrying to make me into your mini-me, Jay?â You teased, as you and Jay went down the stairs.
âI donât know, would you finally read literature if I did?â Jay teased as you guys walked to the motorcycleâ special occasions meant being on Jasonâs motorcycle.
Said special occasions meant you had to suffer with Jacob being more romantic with his motorcycle than he ever will be with a girl.
âHey, baby. How you doing?â Jay cooed at his motorcycle, patting her down and continuous reassurements. While Jay was talking to his motorcycle you grabbed onto a helmet, putting it on. Despite contrary belief, you did ânotâ want to die.
Jay noticed you putting on the helmet and quietly put his own on. Jay mounted onto the motorcycle while you followed, clutching his waist.
This was going to be a nice day.
The same could not be said for Damian Wayne.
Damian frowned as he got out of his physics classâ he had aced the test but his mind was filled with thoughts and he bit through his cheek as he walked through the halls.
First, Father had removed patrol for everyone saying it was time for a family dinner. He even told Dick to come back home. Damian was in despair from being denied patrol for two days in a row.
Second, at school everyone was bugging him about you. Unfortunately, you were popular. Meaning whatever âyouâdo is a new topic at Gotham Academy. So, with the knowledge he has gathered, you were at a party that had been raided by police for drug use (not uncommon as you always enjoyed to be with unwitting people). But, you had your drink spiked and was picked up by a man with a white strand and green eyesâ Jason.
Third, he had just found out you were not informed by Jasonâs revival. This caused the question of âhow do you know Jasonâ? By some digging through phone numbers (and some help from Barbara), he found out you had called Jasonâs previous number on a drunken night, thought he was an uber, and went with it. Ex crime lordâ now vigilanteâ Red Hood, was willingly choosing to act as an uber for you.
Damian has had a bothersome day, and right when he wanted to just unwind by escaping school and ignoring everyone. He had learned a coping mechanism that was suitable for his age and slowly heâs adapted to itâ a phone addiction.
Damian continued to walk with his usual intimidating look and silent footsteps that made even his teachers subtly jump. Damian got all the necessary apps to help him blend in, because if thereâs something Damian hates worse than people⊠itâs not knowing.
Damian went through his Instagram-- as courtesy as a Wayne he is forced to have an account that has already gained a hundred thousand something â looking through his feed and seeing your newest post.
It was a photo of a very undignified party, vomit at the edge of the picture, plastic red cups on the floor, and in the center of it all was you shining from the disco light. You looked so at ease it almost made Damian envious⊠almost.
The caption read ânew prty new nmee!! #gothampartyââ and multiple other hashtags that Damian wouldâve gone crazy if he read the rest of it. Damianâs eye twitched with annoyance as he walked into the car.
Damian saw Tim and Stephanie already seated. Duke was already out on patrol. They were casually talking about some party that was raided by police yesterday. Drugs. Lots of it.
âDamian, after dinner we have the sewing day. Make sure to supply the snacksâ since well⊠you werenât even able to go on a dangerous patrol for anything to be sewed.â
Tim informed Damian.
âTt. I know that, Tim.â Damian scowled. He was obviously upset about that.
Damian grumbled with a frown on his face as he looked out the windowâ he tried to ignore the fact he still hasnât been able to go on patrol and that this day was no other.
Something that plagued Damianâs thoughts were if you were to come this family dinnerâ or if Jason wouldnât come out of pure wishes so you wouldnât have to know the truth and stop being with him.
Everyone in the car kept talking, Damian wanted to close his ears and ignore it. It was absurdly loud, but Damian knew that these people were a bunch of loners who didnât have anything else but family. At least Tim was, he had a boyfriend whom everyone was convinced was to forget about Conner. So he thought that he should let them have their fun.
Damian slid out of the car as they reached the Manor. Of course, Damian pretty much ignored everyone and went straight to his room to unwind.
The halls in this haunted home were as quiet as ever. Not like yesterday with your snickers and filthy sneakers on the carpet. Nights where he wasnât able to be on patrol and when you werenât there made him feel like he was alone in this loud world.
And so, Damian drew.
Tim wasnât drawing, or playing a game.
Tim was calling Bernard while he chose an outfit. Usually heâd just be wearing Red Robinâs fit since he always got a pass at dinner from patrol, but today was important. Alfred had just told them that you were coming in this dinner. After practically a year.
Itâs not like Tim was paying close attention to you, itâs just that no matter what his tracker on that cracked phone you have kept flickering today.
Tim was just worried that you managed to figure out the secret and had wanted to sell them out.
Stephanie was probably shopping with Bruceâs credit card. Bruce wasnât her father or a father figure. Just that mentor who treated her like she was a painful daughter.
She saw you alone in the mall, you were with some friends from school. Stephanie could count all of these people but still not know what you saw in them.
It was your life, who was she to judge your isolation from the family?
Stephanie walked the other way and continued to look at every shop. She doesnât want to think about the one whoâŠ
Stephanie doesnât even remember you.
Cassandra was with Barbara.
Just at Barbaraâs house and talking about whatever. Barbara taking a sip of her coffee â black â whenever she wanted to stay awake for Cass. They both know itâs something close and soft, but they ignore it just because they can.
Dick was driving back to Gotham. Your favorite song was on his playlist. He didnât even remember putting it. Dick wondered if it was still your favorite song now.
I, I will be king
And you, you will be queen
Though nothing will drive them away
We can be heroes, just for one day
We can be us just for one day
Dick remembered putting it on for the first time near you and how your eyes lit up at the song. Immediately proclaiming it was your favorite. Dick wanted to know what you listened to now.
Did you like rap? Did you like underground artists? Did you still like these songs? What did you look like? Do you even care about him now? Did you see someone else other than him as the best brother? Did you even notice when he left?
Jason was contemplating on whether or not to come for your sake. He decided itâs about time you should know the deepest secret of his. That heâs Jason and not Jacob. That youâre still his brother even if heâs not that uber persona.
Jason chose an outfit as he listened to your favorite song. You gained actual good taste, not that old bull. Jason hummed the tune for Everlong by Foo Fighters, as he grabbed a random black shirt and slid it on. He raised the song a little higher.
Jason put on some random pair of jeans that didnât seem to have any blood and placed his clothed feet into the cargo boots.
Bruce was working on a case. Riddler was yet again on another spree. He didnât know what to do, to shut everything off from his mind and focus on this. Bruce takes a sip from his coffee mug just to realize thereâs none left.
Bruce was going to go and get some more but Alfred had already come down with another pot of black steaming hot coffee. Just how Bruce and Barbara like it.
âThank you Alfred. When Iâm done, please get rid of all the Zesti soda cans off.â Bruce asked calmly as he took another sip of the black coffee.
âDonât forget, Master Bruce. Your son is coming to this dinner.â Alfred replied.
âWhich one?â Bruce furrowed his brows as he went through all knowledge of his kids going to the dinner. Tim? Itâs only on some occasions where he ditches. Jason? He usually comes and leaves early. Dick? Wouldnât miss it for the worldâ unless he had a fight with Bruce. Damian? He never has the choice to.
Alfred said your name nonchalantly, about to go and leave now that there is no use of him. As Alfred went up the stairs Bruce had the realization that he knows nothing about you. How old were you? Eighteen? Right?
Duke was sleeping after his Patrol. Not even noticing the texts you sent himâ you two were pretty close considering Duke was the only person who treated you like a friend. It was about asking him if heâs down to hangout with the others at the mall.
It was a peaceful serene-like afternoon. But when it hits 7:30, thatâs when the real circus starts.
sorry for taking so long I have exams rn and iâd rather not fail
please comment if I forgot to mention u since if I couldnât mention you I couldnât have made you in the tag list
The music blasted in your ears as soon as you took a foot inside, you had texted your friends (blonde twink 1 and 2) only to get hit with a message that irritated you.
lol srry bro we cldnt go
You scowled and shoved your phone into your pocket. Walking to where the drinks were and mixing whatever sounded good. You took out a baggie from last week and assorted the white powder into lines, using some card from god knows where.
A snuff turned into a snort, and a snort turned into a stolen blunt in your hands. Youâve been used to drugs, alcohol, and sex. You didnât really engage in sex, it always felt too intimate. Youâre a Wayne. Wayne have no feelings.
The music blared into your ears as you laughed at whatever the conversation was. Everything was so funny, maybe from the coke or alc. You didnât care, or know.
EVERY LEAP OF FAITH I FALL
FADE AWAY TILL THE CURTAIN CALL
I FOUND GOD IN THE BATHROOM STALL
FORGIVE MY SINS PRAY TO SAINT LAURENT
You took some shots, flirted with some girls, whispered things to the pills, and probably took too much of everything. Some girls ushered you to take some special drinks. You smirked at them and took two shots before you got hazy. âThanks dear..â You mumbled to one of them as you peppered her face with kisses of no feeling.
Some guys offered a blunt, you took it and ended the thing like it was a normal cigarette. âYouâre a good dude.â You said in reply as you smoked and enjoyed the blunt like it was your lastâ which to be fair who knows, it could always be your last.
Of course, thatâs not what only happened. You had definitely gave some promises, exchanged numbers with a few girls or guys, whispered flirts to peopleâ but you honestly didnât know in the dream-like state you were in.
It took you a while to realize that you were alive and at a party. The room was spinning. You had looked at someone random near you to calm yourself down, but everyone was just black figures. You blinked once or twice and got up to the bathroom. Or at least tried to, you were getting even more dizzy than before and it was due to the fact that you always got up too fast.
Your legs were cursing at you, as by now you had ran into whatever bathroom you could find without bothering to see if anyone was there or not. Your legs gave up just as soon as you got on your knees and hunched onto the toilet. You shoved two fingers into your throat as you gagged.
The alcohol and whatever food you ate got out fairly easy and quickâ the blood that came after didnât surprise you anymore. You had to vomit to focus, and nothing would help. Did this count as an eating disorder? Maybeâ but you didnât have the guts to accept it.
Your vision cleared as you tried your hardest to recall what you had taken. Some shots, a blunt, few fries from someone, some coke, maybe a few pills, and shots from some pretty girls. The shots were probably spikedâ not that you minded. It just wasnât nice to remember that life was⊠life, and that you canât trust anyone.
Spiked drinks meant awareness that life is actually something important, and isnât just something you can log out of whenever you get bored. You despised the thing we called living, so you drown yourself with every possible drug and addiction.
You need to be seen by everyone. Everyone must love you. (You should have their attentionâ why did they all ignore you, WHY ARE THEY IGNORING THEIR BROTHERâ)
You grunted as you got out of the bathroom, not bothering to flush the toilet, and got back to the party. You had danced and talked with some drunkards or the high ones, having as much fun as a normal person would.
It was quite hard to enjoy the party considering it was kind of shitty. The decorations were all over the place, there wasnât any drinking games made by the host, the living room tiny, and much more.
You checked the time on your phoneâ it was 4AM by now. You wondered if Jacob would come here an hour early.
âŠ
He definitely wouldâ compared to other ubers, Jacob was more of a good olâ buddy. Your fingers swiped on his contact before you thought twice and wrote a quick message to pick you up.
you: hey cn u pxk me up??
Jason had just got off another night as Redhood as he sat on top of a roof. He probably should be continuing until morning, but Jason had promised you that he would come in an hour later. How did Jason even manage to get in contact with you after his death? It was a long answer, a very unfortunate one too.
After six years, you had called his old number back when he was alive, crying while obviously drunk. Begging him to come pick you up, like you were begging Jason to be alive again. Jason answered the call out of pity and remembranceâ even with the pit madness he couldnât control his love for his brother. Blood or not, Jason knew you were his brother.
Not Dick, not Damian, not Tim, not Dukeâ but Jason. Jason was your brother, even if you thought so or not. Jason always had a soft spot for that little boy who copied whatever he did. When you had first entered the manor, Jason was your idol and he knew that.
Jason was everything you wanted to be. He was rebellious, happy, smart, witty, and cool. Meanwhile, you were just a kid looking at Jason with those heart eyes idolizing his big brother. Jasonâs second thought before he died was how you would feel, your brother dying from whatever excuse Bruce gave.
When Jason had gotten back from the pit, his thoughts were consumed with revenge. Vengeance. But the occasional passing thoughts of you had haunted him, he was glad of that dayâ where he had let you rest on the apartment bed instead of stupid Wayne Manor.
Sure, you never even found out his actual name and thought it was Jacob till now. It was for the better.
Jasonâs phone pinged as he took off his helmet to open his phone with face identificationâ his smirk was visible when he had seen your text.
No.1 brother : hey cn u pxk me up??
you : yea sure
you : r u ok??
No.1 brother : no pls js get me.
you : ill be there in 10 mins.
Jason took his helmet and quickly zipped his jacket, shoving the phone into his pockets. He got off the rooftop immediately, right to his car. Jason closed the door quite harshly as he stepped on the pedal like there was no tomorrowâ who knows what you could want or need?
In Jasonâs eyes, you were still the young kidâ in other words, you were the younger version of Jason himself. He saw you like a rebellious smart one.
Jasonâs heart poundedâ from fear of what happened, or is it from anger on whoever made you want to leave? Jason himself didnât know, all he wanted to do right now was to teleportâ but he could just drive.
Jason honked and cursed at everyone until he finally reached the place and saw you outsideâ your usual happy and laid-back expression was twisted into an ugly annoyed one. Jason noticed some spit slobbering down your mouth as he turned the window down.
âGet in before anyone sees you like thisâ you look like a sad puppy.â Jason teased, trying his hardest to make you feel better but the words just came out like some tough hyper-masculinity bullshit. Jason reprimanded himself in his mind trying not to show his annoyance at himself.
You muttered a quiet âMhm, alright.â as you entered in. Trying to ignore Jacobâs annoyed expression. You hoped Jacob wasnât annoyed that you called him an hour earlier. Underneath your rebellious uncaring nature, you wanted Jacob to like you.
You wanted Jacob to always have attention on you, to never have any other customer. It was a horrible thought, but you didnât care about anything. Horrible thoughts come to everyone.
Jacob quietly drove you to the next street, the route obviously to his apartment. You sighed and started to talk about what happened. Jacob cut in, his words slicing you into awareness.
âYour drink got spiked?â He questioned with a deep sigh as he massaged his temples.
âYeah. Not that I careâ you know Iââ You tried to add in some more words to still seem that same old playful Wayne who was always partying.
âAnd you didnât bother calling me?â Jacob asked with a sort of pained expression. Why was he sad? Wasnât Jacob supposed to be the emotionless wittyâ why did he act like you wouldâve actually gotten hurt?
Oh, right. You forgot once again that a spiked drink actually meant that something bad was slipped in. It had been so common towards you that youâve forgotten what was normal and what was considered as bad.
âRight, sorry. I forgot.â You answered quietly.
âContinue,â Jacob said your name in a sort of despaired voice. You continued to speak about what had happened in the party that caused you to be annoyed.
âThe drinks were shitty, the blunt was poor, even the drugs were bad! You know how horrible it was if theââ You once again got cut off by Jacob, it was starting to become a little annoying.
âItâs okay,â Jacob said your name, âYouâre here, no drugs in your system, nadda. Youâre alive. You arenât at that stupid party anymore.â Jacob comforted you quietly, sending a soft glance towards you as he hoped that these words had an impact on you.
You looked up at JasâJacob with a sad smile. He just reminded you so much of that wise old boy who helped you. âThank you. Iâll be sleeping at yours, please?â You asked with a pleading look in your eyes gleaming.
âApartment not doing any good for you?â Jacob asked nonchalantly even as he subtly changed directions to his own apartmentâ Jacob was always the guy who would move anything in a heartbeat if you said please.
âRoommate. Letâs not get into it. Thanks, Jay.â You said softly. It hurt to call Jacob the same nickname that you used for Jason, but Jason had died and now you finally had someone to replace the pit of his influence. You know that replacing Jason with Jacob would lead into not so great things but deep in your heart you knew it was time to let go.
Jasonâs heart skipped a beat when you had called him âJayâ like old times, he almost had to stop himself from smiling on instinct and saying his nickname for you. Jason held his tongue and continued to drive, but a smirk escaped.
Jason was always thinking about what to say so it wouldnât be distant towards you but also to seem not too interested towards you, it seems he had finally found the balance as he managed to make you call him Jay.
Now technically speaking Jason should be upset and angered that you had called his Jacob persona the same nickname you had called him when he was alive the first time, but Jason couldnât bring it in himself to be annoyed.
Because all Jason cared about was that you called him Jay after his supposed death. That you called Jacob the uber driver which was still Jason, Jay.
Jason forced his mind to stop thinking as he parked into the Apartment complex building.
âDo you want me to help you out?â Jason had asked like the supposed âuberâ he was.
âNo, I can do it.â You had replied with a tired tone but still a smile on your face as you got out of the car.
Jason got out himself and walked into the apartment and up the stairs with you, deliberately slowing down his pace so you could go up the stairs alongside him.
The quiet was familiar with you, as Jason knew it had nothing to do with being awkward or uncomfortable. You only became quiet when you didnât care or you were comfortable enough to live in the silence. Jason knew which one was which.
You leaned against the wall as soon as you two had gotten to his floor. Jason got out his keys and fumbled with them as he unlocked the door. Immediately, you had made a beeline towards the couch and fell into a deep sleep.
Meanwhile Jason was staring at you with some look that meant he recognized your preferences and choices. Jason had missed you, brother.
Jason held back his happiness when you had asked to sleep at his instead of that shabby old place you called an apartment. While Jason had no roommates since this apartment building was owned by Bruce, he wondered why you lived at a small one.
Jason then remembered that Bruce never paid attention to you, and itâs not like Jason outright hated that Bruce never did or that he enjoyed Bruce not giving you any. He just thought that maybe it wouldâve been a lot easier if Bruce remembered you once a while.
For now, Jason would have to go back to patrolling and hope you donât wake up looking for him. Jason exited the apartment and went down the stairs once again to walk over to his car.
Jason quietly opened the trunk and out on his helmet and took out a grappling hook and got back to work. If some criminals noticed he kept glancing at the watch, they would be too busy being beat up by him.
note : formatting got messed up during the copy and paste lmfao sorry chat
for those who did not get tagged even though I liked their comment please dm me or say in comments because I have ZERO idea on how to work this thing đ
You have always been a bother to the Wayneâs. Of course, not like theyâll ever notice you other than your daily words of how youâre a failure by Damian.
âYouâre a disgrace to this family, why would Father ever even decide to keep you? You laze around out of the manor, talking to disgusting low livesââ
You had tuned out the rest of his words as you scrolled on Instagram, looking at the ten group chats you were added toâ mainly from clubbing and random parties.
Letâs go back to the start so you understand what Damian is really talking about.
Rewind, 20XX, your birthday.
You were twelve at that time. Peacefully enjoying the seasonsâ we ignore pain it is to even be alive.
You sat on the chair with a single candle on the table, your mother has long went to sleep. Oddly enough she hasnât even been awoke by your loud nature.
She hasnât woken up since yesterday, and you doubted that she was even alive. Yet, you still let her rot. What would even happen if you complained to the police? A boy in the slums such as you couldnât even see a time of day in anywhere.
You looked at the clock patiently as it turned 12. Slowly you blew out the candles, now you were thirteen. The golden age for reporting crimes and not being as pitied as before.
Quietly you threw the candle into the bin as you slipped on some shoes and got out of the house.
âWhere you going?â the landlordâ whatâs-his-nameâ asked you.
âThe police station, sir.â You politely said as you tried to excuse yourself.
âPardon? What for, boy?â The landlord looked confused as he saw your small appearance.
Your landlord had been an old man, grey hair overflowing the brown, wrinkles forming as he looked down on youâ literally. He always told you to refer to him as Sirâ but you often broke that rule whenever you wanted.
âMommyâs dead, sir. I need to report it to the police.â You replied with as much innocence a teenager could muster.
âOh, dear. Let me go with you, champ.â He said, grabbing his cap despite it already being past night, walking with you outside.
You and the landlord were making your way to the corrupt police station nearby, you tried your best to avoid criminalsâ which was fairly easy with such an intimidating old man next to you.
The landlord, you had always seen him as a grandpa in a way and you were sure he also saw you as his grandchild. He often mixed your name up with his grandson sometimes.
You stepped carefully away from the suspicious white baggies and blood splattersâ you would rather not be pitied by the officers, which was hard considering the landlord had always saw you as a frail kid despite him normally being harsh on others.
As you entered into the station with Grandpa, he ushered you to go sit in those seats that were a bit too tall and large for you. Grandpa went up to the front desk to meet a grouchy young woman who clearly lost something to have been bestowed the night shift in Gotham.
Grandpa had whispered something to the lady. The lady stopped whatever she was doing as she listened intently to whatever Grandpa was saying.
You werenât able to hear them, being so far away after all. All you could remember after that was some officers talking to you.
They had moved you to a room that looked oddly like an interrogation room to gain something called your DNA.
You didnât know it back then, how your life was going to change either for the better or for the worse. All you knew was that your mommy was dead, Grandpa was gonna help you find your father, that you needed to stay his champ, and that his house was always open if they couldnât find your father.
The officer who was talking to youâ Jim? Gordon?â walked into the interrogation room with a soft smile that reminded you of Grandpa.
âYour father is Bruce Wayne. Have you heard of him? No worries, Bruce is a privileged man here to help you. Bruce is your dad, okay?â Gordon had said.
You wondered what privileged meant, but you didnât say anything and kept quiet. You opened your mouth to talk but it seems that you were cut off by a knock on the door.
The door had opened slowly to reveal a posh looking man whom you have already thought of as bad.
There was nothing wrong with him, you just hated people in suits.
People in suits meant people like Mr. Penguin. It meant that they were rich, they didnât know about how bad the kids at Crime Alley were living like.
The manâ Alfred Pennyworthâ had introduced himself and said that he would be your butler.
You narrowed your eyes, looking at this untrustworthy man.
âNice to meet you, Mr.Pennyworth.â
Despite the fact you didnât trust him, your mother had always encouraged you to be polite and respectful.
âRespect gives people a reason to trust you, and trust brings out the worst in everyone.â Mother had said.
"Hello, young master," Mr.Pennyworth had said as he guided you outside towards a very fancy large car.
An all black limousineâ a Lincoln stretch limo, you noted in case of accidentsâ was parked next to the sidewalk.
You entered in quietly, feeling like you were being judged from the luxurious interior. The cushions were too rich quality for you to relax, you had been used to the feeling of a ripped cushion on your skin.
The butler was weird, he tried making small talk and when you answered politely he had taken note on how vague your answers were.
You two had entered the inside of the garage, you left the car hesitantly and looked around at the large garage full of sports cars.
âThis all⊠does it happen to be my dadâs?â You asked, putting air quotes on Dad.
âYes, Young master,â Alfred said your name. âI believe that a small few is Master Dick.â
âDick?â You asked with a held back laugh, you knew this new life was bound to meeting people with weird namesâ because all rich men name their children oddly â but you hadnât expected Dick.
âYes, Young master,â Alfred said your name. âRichard Grayson, your adopted brother. You also have Young Master Jason Todd. I believe you donât know Bruce from the media?â Alfred asked not unkindly, but not kind either. Like you must be shielded away from the world.
âYes, Mr. Pennyworth. Uhh, could you show me to my room?â You had asked, overwhelmed by the way everything was being introduced to you at such a short span of time.
âOf course, Master,â Alfred said your name. âIâll lead you.â
Alfred had led you out of the garage and into the house. To you, this entire place felt like a maze. Unopened doors everywhere.
You two went up the stairs as Alfred explained every room and its purpose.
âThere is the guest wing, next to it would be the family wing. Master,â Alfred said your name, âI am afraid that we did not have enough time to prepare a room. So, for now, please take this.â
Alfred led you deeper into the guest wing, to the room farthest away from the family but seemingly closest to Alfred. You had realized that after ten years, but younger you hadnât.
At this time you had believed it was because Alfred wanted you to bond with him.
You did not want to bond with Mr.Pennyworth.
âThank you, Mr.Pennyworth. Iâm tired so Iâll be sleeping in here.â You had said, trying to subtly get away as soon as possible.
Mr.Pennyworth was perceptive, he understood you and left you as soon as possible.
Even while you were thinking about what to change in the past, Damian was still continuing with his paragraphs of scoldingâ despite the fact you were older.
âAlright, I get it.â Your voice cut through the air. Damian sounded like an annoyed kitten meowing for attention.
Damian frowned as he looked at you, utterly displeased by how you cut him off.
Sure, you did like attention, but why does it have to be some posh rich kid who is your half-brother?
Your mind wandered to how much time Damian spends giving you little to no attention. You thrived off the attention he rarely gave youâthe ability to get underneath Damian âMr.cold heartâ Wayne was especially pleasing.
âTt. Fine. If you do not wish to know the horrible side effects of smoking, drinking under eighteen, and making friends with strangers. Donât call me when you die.â Damian scoffed.
You didnât get to give him a snappy comeback before he left into his room.
Finally, the living room all to yourself.
In such a daze of pleasure that you were alone, you completely lost all choice of logic and agreed to whatever party the multiple of group chats were going to.
You can either get a ride from blond twink (#2) or you can just call up your favorite uber.
âŠ
Your finger went to the contact of your uber almost instantlyâ no way would you trust anyone other than him to drive you.
you: heyy cn u pck me up @ 1AM
Jacob : 1AM? that gonna cost xtra.
Jacob : alr. I can do that.
you: thank u & if u want enter da prty w me
Jacob : who??
you: sum guy bday, oscar? oliver?? idk
Jacob : no thanks ill just drop you off k?
you: kk, ty jay jay :)
Jacob : when do I pick you up?
you: @ liek 5AM?? if im not there you have perms to call po-po.
Jacob: good enough. k bye
you: đđđ
You smiled at the chats between you and Jacob, he was best uber guy considering he sees the traffic rules as a suggestion. He didnât bother being afraid while driving you to another party at Crime Alley.
Jacob was some tough kind-of guy you knew from a random drunk outing.
You drank a lot, called some random number asking them to pick you up.
Random as in keyboard smash of numbers. Itâs a good thing that said person was Jacob and not some creep.
Jacob answered asking for the location, came for you, and you asked him to lead you to a random locationâ he instead led you to his house to freshen up.
Jacob had muscles, you could tell considering how much broader he looked in comparison to⊠someone.
You dismissed that thought, thereâs no way this chunk of muscle be the same as Jason.
Jason was dead, and Jacob had green eyes. Not blue, not Jason.
You slipped your phone into the pocket of your sweatpants and walked out of the living room, going up the stairs to the left guest wingâ away from everyone else in a dusty web side of the manor.
Your room reeked of smokeâ you didnât sleep in your bed. You left off to sleep in your apartmentâ with a roommate of course. No one has enough money for a decent apartment at Crime Alley.
Fingertips had grazed the dresser, dust sitting on your hands. You blew the air off and sighed.
You walked over to the bedsheets which were still crumpled and untouchedâ just like last month. And the month before.
You only sat in the manor when you got bored and wanted to haunt your family with your presence. It workedâ almost half an hour in, Damian had already scolded you for fifteen minutes.
You grabbed your phone from out of your pocket and started to go through your socials.
Sending an occasional streak on some apps, and hum a song as you type a few words to the people going to the party.
You slide your phone into the pocket of your hoodie, yawning before sliding the hood on and cranking the window up slowly.
You were on the second floor, meaning you can easily escape and get out.
Youâve always used that window for escaping, thank whoever who monitored the cameras that they didnât care enough to notice.
Slowly you used the bricks you quietly placed as ways to hike down, lodging your foot on top of a slightly out of place brick.
Finally, you jumped down and got out by a small space by the gateâ a small opening of opening of the fences that you found back in grade 8 and abused it thoroughlyâ closing and hiding the place before you even thought twice.
You checked the timeâ 12AM â and decided to go to your favorite part of Gotham.
Crime Alley.
Of course, Crime Alley was your favorite because you could see people who were exactly like you.
Young, dumb, and broke highschool kids.
You didnât whistle or hum while you walked out of the rich part of Gotham, your rugged appearance made people avoid you.
As you left the suffocatingly quiet part of Gotham and neared Crime Alley you smelled the horrible stench of Gothamâ
youâre finally home.
You walked over to the usual spot Jacob picks you, and he was already leaning on a wall on his phoneâ most likely ready to ask where you were â before his green eyes spotted you and calmed down.
âGet in, loser.â Jacob teased as his white hair strand glinted in from the streetlight.
âOh shove it.â You laughed as you opened the car door, entering into it softly as you looked over at Jacob buckling his seatbelt.
You had blasted âSomebody Told Meâ by The Killers as you and Jacob sang along.
Well somebody told me you had a boyfriend
Who looked like a girlfriend
That I had in February of last year
It's not confidential, I've got potential
Jacob had finally reached the spot of the party as you sighed at the ending of the song.
âBye, Jay-jay. Donât forget to pick me up before the sun rises!â You winked with a smile before getting out of the car.
Your feet had walked on instinct and opened the door which was somehow already open.
Iâd like to request some disco themed dividers? I saw a disco ball one that I like! But Iâm wondering if you could do maybe a zoom in on the disco ball texture, if that makes sense.
Thank you in advance! đ«¶
hello angel đ„č that is so incredibly sweet and kind of you to say, thank you so much đ
so I may have gone a tad overboard here with all the disco balls but I hope you like them and are able to use them â„ïž
please like and credit if you use, reblogs are appreciated! thank you! đ
iâd like to announce that I am currently writing the first chapter of neglected rebellious reader! itâs 1.4k+ words!! Iâm so sorry Iâve been busy doing personal stuff lolol!! hope you guyr r excited!!
just saying from now on the reader is heavily implied to be a man/boy
mother of reader is considered to be very manipulative and this isnât some râpe case with bruce, itâs a one night stand !!
Reader is also not a good person, remember that reader is not considered to have any morals and only goes with whatever he thinks is right in the moment.
I am SO sorry to burst anyoneâs bubble, but the fortune teller reader will fortunately be written by @not-weirdoshrek, not me. And even if I did write fortune teller reader it would be awfully and poorly made because I donât have enough time to do research on paganism and tarot cards. Iâm gonna put the poll up once again without fortune teller reader.
Which reader do I evolve into a story?
TSH reader
Quiet reader
Dorian Gray Reader
Rebellious reader
dark academia reader
Voting ended onApr 3
and some other prompts that I surely have forgotten to add. Just please do not request Fortune teller reader.
ok so this is a very general idea but.. rebellious reader! A reader who acts out for attentionâ
(the reader is heavily implied to be male)
Rebellious reader who smokes, does lines, skips family dinner, ignores the family back, more of the euphoria type of stuff.
They were in the slums of gotham before their mom died and eventually they found Bruce as his father.
Bruce left him to Alfred as he was too difficult to take care of.
Rebellious reader does not bother with being a good son or anything, in fact they run away multiple times but always gets caught because Tim put a tracker in his phone (In case he knows the batfamâs secret and wants to sell them out)
Rebellious reader does not care about their academics at all, they skip class, school, heck they even skip hangouts with their million of friend groups (that they got purely from clubbing, doing lines, and sneaking off to the poor side of gotham to have fun.)
Reader is underageâ just 17 and is in 12th grade by a lot of bribing from Alfred.
Alfred doesnât care about Reader mainly because he doesnât see him as a possible robin or as a son, but Alfred can only stare in disappointment as he puts food in the fridge for Reader (since they skipped it.. again)
One random day, Reader actually goes to the family dinners âby force since Alfred keeps making them feel guiltyâ and is dealing with a horrible hangover as they sit on the first seat that they find.
Unfortunately itâs the seat that makes Bruce in front of Reader.
And for the first time in years, Bruce acknowledges he has a child, one that grew up too fast for him to even notice.
itâs nights like this where the batfam x neglected reader ainât updating!! so in return I give you people.. Dark Academia Reader!
A reader whoâs just in love with the aesthetic of the manor, adores their dusty guest wing and mostly makes Alfred not clean it just for the aesthetics.
Reader whose entire room is filled with old family heirlooms that Bruce didnât bother giving since they were broken, classic novels, and CDâs/vhs tapes!
Like just a reader whoâs absolutely obsesses over the looks of old stuff and may or may not have stolen vintage watches from Bruce.
I imagine that when they notice reader itâs because sheâs in the attic filled with dust and spidersâ and for example Tim wants some old antique batman costume (that isnât in the bat cave since the costume can be passed off as merchandise) and spots reader.
Reader is feeding the spiders and sitting on the not so dusty chair thatâs supposed to be broken, and just glances at Tim hoping that he wonât notice them.
Tim is obviously DISGUSTED because he is a rich white boy, and despite how mysterious he thinks he is, he gives you the most annoyed look.
Then, of course, it spirals into profound paranoia since he doesnât know anything about reader.
In turn, Tim and Reader turn closer by a shared love of antiques (Tim doesnât actually love antique vintage stuff he just wants to get closer to reader).
It then starts a chain reaction, Jason next because he realizes that the family library books are slowly disappearing and the rest of the fam.
This is simple. Quiet!reader!! Just a reader (gender neutral) who has a really deep voice and manages to be quiet ALL THE TIME.
Going to the kitchen? They manage to spook Tim and Jason by the sudden sound of a fridge opening.
âWhen did you get here?â One of them asks, and all Reader says is..
âI was here since a long time.â
READER LOVESSS acting like they were there from before the person knows, when in fact most of the time they just came in.
Damian is also somehow included, he cannot hear your steps, cannot interpret whatever the hell you say, and just takes you as a threat.
Reader in fact doesnât have that deep of a voice sometimes they pitch it to be lower just so they can be creeped out.
No one really notices their neglect at first but after Damian manages to have a brain he gives like a huge apology to Reader.
And then Tim is forced to have a break from patrol due to an insane accident so he decides to focus on the mystery he couldnât (or didnât want to) solve..
readerâs quietness!!
(In reality, reader is naturally quiet since theyâre used to being alone and not wanting to be a nuisance.)
oh god this has plagued my mind but an Richard Papen!reader. Like ugh I spent days just not sleeping to figure it out but Iâve GOT IT!!
(Iâm gonna shorten it to TSH [the secret history] reader ok?)
TSH!reader who was taken by Bruce after his mom dies from their fatherâs abuse. They were ignored by Bruce mainly because this was Batman & Dick era, no one else.
(TSH!reader is the same age as Jason!!)
TSH!reader who manages to barely pass highschool (without the use of pot, alcohol, and bad impulsive choices) and only knew a bit about manners due to Alfred
Then after a bad fight with Bruce since reader was yelling at Bruce for being a horrible father since Bruce was trying to make Reader go to gotham college
TSH!reader who goes to Hampden college and everything plays out like in canon (including the winter break where they almost die) and when they go to the hospital, was dragged back home by Alfred because they had pneumonia and TSH!reader was too prideful to ask for help
TSH!reader whoâs forced to get used to all of these new people and makes it very clear heâd rather be with the Greek class, spending the remainder of the winter break sending letters and reading greek books in the library.
Jason finds reader and is like âwhy the heck are they back?? when did they even come back??â
reader does not care or bat(heheh) an eye at them and just stays in his old dusty locked room instead of being with them.
Reader who gets dragged to the family dinner and finally sits in his spot (which was mainly the spot next to Bruce and in front of Dick) and gets glared at by Damian.
Reader in fact does not care and just gives him the Henry WinterTM glare. And because of the fact heâs sitting there, Reader is then noticed by the entire family.
I still havenât envisioned any of their reactions, thoughts, etc.. But all I want there to be is that TSH!reader goes back to Hampden college with a stalker staring at him through the cameras(Tim), a brother who followed him into Hampden under the guise of a professor(Dick), a new roommate(Jason), and other stalkers who still arenât old enough for college or just prefer to be stalking.
Of course the greek class is astonished because whoâs the professor and roommate so absolutely protective of Richard!reader who just came back from winter break??
LMFAO, this is all out of pure self indulgence and I would love if someone enjoyed this as much as I did!!
P:S, this is based off âThe Secret Historyâ by Donna Tartt. Amazing book.
