✶ moon light at 12'o clock
[moon rising at 12'o clock: the rewrite]
yan batfam x gn neglected reader
masterlist - ch0 - ch1 - ch2 - ch3...
TW: GN reader, english not my first lang, ooc probably, MENTIONS OF DEATH/DEATH ITSELF, BLOOD, a little descriptive language of death but its not like too descriptive. I remembered how to actually write like halfway through. you might see a little change teehee
word count: 4k
summary: Jason confronts you for being a little sus... your alternate versions start to dispute and you get flinged into somewhere new...
chapter 2: be natural (or that is, come close to it)
────── ₊˚⊹ ✶ ──────
It wasn't obvious at first, no.
But after a while, everyone could sense a new figure following them wherever they went.
An uneasy pit formed in your stomach.
Were you being stalked by a villain? Or no, perhaps it was the work of something more sinister.
Whatever it was, it felt as if it was swallowing you alive. Every step felt like a burden, the footsteps of you and your alternates ringing through your ears as you hear softer, quieter footsteps that you didn't recognize.
Yet whenever you turned around, it always seemed to stop.
You could feel the conflict growing in the rest of the group as well as they share glances with each other, stopping at a lamppost that suddenly flickered to life as the air around them grew colder.
What time was it?
Oh shit! 8:28! You said you'd be back home at 8:00.
As you glance at the time sprawled across your phone, eyes wide, your alternates seem to notice with the realization hitting them as well.
You bite your lip.
"I don't think they'd even notice you've been gone for so long," V/n grumbles, picking at their fingernails. "They don't even care about you, remember?"
Nodding, you ponder on it. It was true—the lack of care for you did seem to make it easy to get by, but your concern was voiced out by someone else.
"Didn't you see how they acted towards Y/n when they first met us?" Vg/n speaks up. "I'd say they're getting suspicious—if not for the sake of our safety, then for the sake of their reputation."
V/n scoffs. "What, they'd think poor 'ol little Y/n's hanging out with three big bad villains?"
"Technically, there's only one!" M/n comments from behind you.
"You get my point," V/n sighs.
Taking in both sides of the argument, your own opinion starts to form in your head, foot lightly tapping repeatedly on the concrete from nervousness. V/n was right, they'd never usually care, so why would they now?
Save for Alfred, of course.
With a pat on the back, V/n pushes you forward, wrapping their arms around you as they give you a lazy smile. "And for what it's worth, what're they gonna do, huh? Give us a background check? Bet we're not even in their database."
As V/n releases their hold from your shoulders, the four of you walk back to the Wayne Manor.
"Remember, Y/n, you can not—and I mean absolutely can NOT tell anyone about who we truly are," Vg/n stares at you sternly.
Giving them a weak nod, you respond. "Yeah, of course. I don't think they'd care regardless... well—I think," Taking a deep breath, your eyes look back into theirs. "Where are you going to go?"
They don't respond, basking in the silence for a bit.
"I think... I'd like to explore this place. I'd also like to experiment, see if my powers still work as effectively here!" M/n smiles, their wand glowing brilliantly.
V/n answers next. "Yeah, yeah, what the nutcase over here said. I'll explore. Maybe meet this world's version of Harley an' Ivy."
Vg/n only nods. "I'll be lurking in the shadows, making sure there aren't any more anomalies, and keeping the two that we already have in check."
A final shaky sigh escapes your mouth, trusting that the three versions of yourself could take care of... well, themselves.
It was probably better if they didn't stick around, anyway. It would only grow the current suspicion of your family—something you wanted to shrivel up and kill.
If they didn't return to their world soon, what would happen? Would the world turn itself in just because it was missing one person from the algorithms of its universe? Would havoc spread across an alternate Gotham knowing that a child of the beloved Wayne family had disappeared mysteriously?
Actually, you doubted that last part.
You were pretty sure the media barely even knew about you.
Regardless, you enter the gate, waving a small 'goodbye' with your hands as you watch your different versions do the same—albeit with different levels of energy. (M/n looked like they were flapping a singular wing more than waving goodbye.)
Alfred opens the door.
"Welcome back, Master Y/n. Dinner has been readied. Master Bruce would like a word with you."
If there was a top 10 list of things you weren't ready for, this would be at the top of the list.
Yet the uneasy feeling of the sudden shift in priorities never left your head.
You—the forgotten Wayne, the one who no one even remembered, suddenly becoming a rising topic between your brothers and your father.
If this was a few years back, you would say it was all that you had dreamed of.
And yet, now you were dreading all the attention you were receiving.
'Just walk. Right foot forward, then left foot, then right foot' you think, slowly inching your way towards the kitchen as you dread what Bruce had to say.
Yet that conversation never came, because you bump into a broad chest, and looking up you see:
Jason Todd.
Another factor playing into the irony of everything. The one who would always avoid you like you were the devil was the one now confronting you.
Oh great, the universe seemed to love seeing you in pain.
"We need to talk."
Short and simple—to the point. Reminiscent of Bruce in a few ways, but he seemed to be a sore subject for the both of you.
"What are you hiding from us?"
Jason had no idea why he was so—off-put by the idea of you hanging out with... whoever these people even are. Hell, they somehow snuck in your room AND there was no video footage of how they entered (Tim confirmed the tape had not been tampered with—it had just fast-forwarded through time as if the universe had made some sort of mistake).
They could be a bad influence on you.
Maybe he was projecting.
Maybe he just didn't want you to go astray—lead a life of regrets like him.
And yet, he felt pathetic. Pathetic he couldn't even understand nor handle his own emotions.
You were one of his biggest regrets.
He regretted never having the time to spend with you; pushing you away because of some grudge he held against his father. And now, all the time in the world seemed to dwindle down into nothingness.
Nothing but the cold hard truth: To him, it felt too late to turn back.
"I'm... hiding nothing. Why?" you ask, realizing you'll probably seem even more suspicious.
Jason felt his mouth go dry. "Don't fuckin' give me that excuse. I heard everything."
Of course—it felt like someone was watching you, and now you know why.
Your mouth starts to go dry. You gulp.
"I heard one of them is meeting up with Harley. Tell me, Y/n, are you friends with a villain?" he accuses harshly, his face contorting to an emotion you could barely pick apart. Anger, yet protectiveness flashed on his face. There was a hint of yearning from the way his eyebrows creased slightly.
"No! No!" The lie comes straight out of your ass. "It's... like we said, a cosplay thing. Some of my other friends were cosplaying as Harley and Ivy and they were gonna meet up together, that's it!"
His eyes trail up your form up and down, a sign of disbelief, yet he doesn't press further on. His fists clench and unclench responsively.
The weight of the lie felt heavy on your shoulders, and now it was Jason's turn to go quiet.
"Fine." he says quietly. "Have it your way."
Light on his feet, he pushes past you, not being able to meet your eyes.
And you don't try to reach out. You don't try and use this as an opportunity to get close with the family again.
Not anymore—you decide. You don't care anymore.
But deep inside, you knew you truly did.
────── ₊˚⊹ ✶ ──────
You're trying to go out.
Keyword here is 'trying' because before you could even step foot outside of the manor, you're stopped by one of your 'brothers.'
Dick Grayson.
Great, first Jason and now Dick. Who's it going to be next, Damian?
Waiting for him to move out of the way, he tries to give you a charming smile, to which you don't respond. You were going to meet your alternates again near the BatBurger joint, the smell of oil and grease already reminiscent in your nose.
"Where are you going, buddy?" he asks, his grin slightly faltering when he sees your unamused expression.
"Just gonna meet up with some friends," you respond, not sparing him a second glance.
You could see his face fall into a frown before rising up again, though his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "Again?"
You nod.
He crosses his arms.
"Don't you think you're spending a little too much time with them? Why don't you hang out with us? We could eat ice cream again like we did when we were younger!"
"I'm not a child anymore, Dick, you don't have to baby me."
"C'mon, you know you can always talk to me if you have any problems, right?"
"Like you've ever cared." You whisper—barely audible, but you're sure Dick heard every word laced in bitterness from the way his jaw tightens. For once, the ever so loud and energetic Nightwing had nothing to say, no comeback, no witty response.
You shake your head. "Just... never mind."
Pushing him out of the way slightly, the older Wayne allows you to pass through with little resistance.
Not because he gave up, but because you were right.
And soon enough, you find yourself near the popular fast food chain, seeing two familiar figures make their way toward you. Though, this time, M/n seemed to be missing.
The three of you reach each other, walk inside, place your orders, and sit down at a table.
"Where's M/n?" you question, speaking first.
V/n shrugs, making the both of you turn toward Vg/n.
They respond with a sigh. "They were supposed to meet us as well, but after we went our separate ways, they never came back to our meetup spot."
"Ya think they got lost?" V/n takes a fry, putting it in their mouth.
"I just hope they're not connected with the recent spike in deaths recently," Vg/n huffed.
Your eyebrows shoot up. "Recent spike in deaths? How'd you know that?"
The vigilante doesn't respond at first. They take a few seconds to gather their thoughts before formulating an answer. "I saw it. Mutilated corpses throughout Gotham alleyways, near the direction M/n went through anyway."
All of you stay silent. Vg/n opens their mouth to continue:
"It looked as if someone—or something—hit them with a hard, blunt object repeatedly and unnecessarily. Their bodies seemed to cave in."
"Damn, that bad?" V/n offhandedly commented, sipping obnoxiously on a straw attached to a soda that was mostly empty.
The two of you turn to look at them.
"Whaat? You expect me to feel sorry? I'm a villain—people die, like, every day." V/n scoffs. "Aww boohoo, little Timmy died! Let’s mourn him, then completely forget about him! Hey, you know what would attract more views than death? Bruce Wayne! Bruce this, Bruce that, don’t forget about his dead son that everyone seems to love to mourn instead! What about Y/n? Didn't they die too? Oh but alas, who cares about poor Y/n? Bruce doesn't care about them so they must not be important."
The sudden contempt and disdain dripping off every word make you blink twice. "I'm not... dead?" you question, your expression contorting to one of confusion.
Vg/n slams their hand on the table before the villain can respond. "You will not disrespect the Wayne family in such a way," they seethe.
"Or what? I thought we all hated 'em. Are we forgetting how they treated us all of a sudden?" V/n munches on another fry.
"Yes, how they treated us was wrong, but they are still my—they are still an alternate version of my family. I might not have had good experiences with them either, but the blatant disrespect will not be tolerated," the other alternate rants.
The only response from V/n is an eye roll. "Yeah, and when they leave you in the dust again, don't come cryin' to me 'cause I'll only respond with an 'I told you so.'"
You decide to butt in again before someone flips over a table, feeling veins popping from Vg/n's forehead. "Hey, let's all calm down. We can... we need to stay focused. We'll try to find M/n first and then we'll get you into your respective universes—" You pause for a second, swallowing your spit, "—or well, at least I hope so."
Placing a comforting hand on Vg/n's shoulder, the latter simply swats it away, taking in a deep breath. "Then we should head out now."
Their chair screeches against the recently mopped floors. V/n eyes them carefully, watching them walk out in a calm demeanor—too calm. You could feel the angered aura radiating off the vigilante from their little 'argument,' but decide not to comment on it. All too familiar—little habits here and there that remind you of the Waynes.
The way they hide their emotions—too reminiscent of Bruce and Jason, masking it under a feign of nonchalance.
After sticking another fry in their mouth, V/n and you follow, the three of you walking along the direction where your alternates swear they saw M/n part from.
And there, out of the corner of your eye, you notice movement.
Glimmering even in the daylight, a shiny, sleek costume with glitter trailing behind. The way the sun bounced off every shiny surface of the costume and flashed your eyes, looking like there were sparkles under the sunlight.
The way a blooming deep, dark red seemed to paint half of the outfit, splattered all over as if they stepped into a paint bucket.
M/n—the magical version of you.
And yet, they didn’t seem so magical now.
Your variants seem to notice the same, watching M/n jump from rooftop to rooftop before landing in an alleyway with a small thud, glitter seemingly falling out from nowhere.
As the three of you follow, you watch the interaction in the alleyway closely, your eyes trailing the magical person like a frightened cat.
The soft click escaping the shoes of M/n echoed uncomfortably at the sight of dried blood staining the heels, the staff in their hand seemingly having a lighter shade of red.
Your heart pounds in your chest.
Oh shit, what the hell did they do? Were they the one who committed the murders? A million thoughts race inside your head, your previous train of thought completely derailing and crashing into the lump inside your throat.
Then you see it.
A man—probably drunk. White wife-beater with stains all over it. Fat, pudgy body. Probably around the age of 30. Unkempt, messy hair with an unshaved stubble.
He seemed to be the perfect candidate based on the way M/n's eyes widen ever so slightly, or how their pupils seemed to contract significantly.
"Oh shit, he's about to get his ass beat," V/n mumbles from behind you.
You punch their shoulder lightly—a sign for them to shut their mouth.
They quickly understand and follow begrudgingly.
"Ah! Kiyo, it's another monster!" M/n yells to no one. "Ah! Wait—I forgot! Kiyo isn't here with me!"
With a flick of their wrist, they raise their hand up to the sun, a shining radiant crescent forming below them.
"Kiyo, even without your strength, let's continue to reach for the stars!~" they cry out, pointing the blunt end of their wand toward the defenseless, sleazy man.
With another shout, M/n swings their wand like a bat, hitting the man's head with enough force that it throws him toward a nearby dumpster; his body hits it with a large clang before slithering down to the cold, hard floor.
"Wha...? Huh—?" The man wakes up, head slightly bleeding from the impact, but not before M/n swings another time.
You grimace at the sight, blood pooling around the floor as the man is unable to defend himself from the onslaught of attacks. God, you’re pretty sure he was unable to comprehend anything at all.
Unable to control themselves, Vg/n walks toward the two of them. You try to call out for the vigilante, but it’s no use. What the hell were they thinking? It’s more than obvious that little alternate wasn't in the right state of mind right now.
Hearing unknown footsteps behind them, M/n quickly swings their head around.
The sight of their face is uncanny.
A wide, unnerving grin paints their face with extremely small pupils decorated in their eyes. Giddiness radiates from their entire body, yet the sight of them is chilling.
"Vg/n!" M/n shouts out gleefully.
"What the hell are you doing?" the other simply shouts back.
Each word is cold and biting, making M/n flinch from the tone they’re using. "Oh this? I'm just angelizing the monsters!"
"Angelizing?" Vg/n questions, making their way closer toward M/n.
With a quick nod, the magical person's grip on their wand tightens, holding the other end with their opposite hand. The faint smell of a metallic scent suddenly fills your nostrils, making beads of sweat dribble down your forehead.
"See these monsters?" They point their wand toward the dead man whose head seems to cave in slightly. "I don't have Kiyo with me right now so I have to make do!"
Vg/n gnashes their teeth, taking the collar of M/n's outfit and lifting them up from the dead body underneath. They trap them in the air, their brows furrowed and eyes widened.
A shaky breath escapes their lips, the other hand not holding the alternate clenches slightly.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Every word comes out harsher, more bitter, as if pent-up anger had suddenly spilled out.
You turn to your villain self with a worried expression. "Do you think we should stop them?"
A chuckle escapes their lips, giving you a smirk. "Well, goody-two-shoes, you can do that yourself. I'd like to see where this is headed!" They place their two relaxed hands behind their head, watching intently as your other two alternates argue.
You give them a deadpan expression, your heart beating faster in your chest. It felt like a fever dream. Everything felt unreal at this point—seeing your older self in a costume, fucking killing someone—you were barely able to imagine yourself killing an animal.
And yet it was all too real. The floor beneath you felt real, the sensation of your clothes sticking uncomfortably beneath you felt real, every short breath that seemed to flow in and out of your mouth felt real.
And you were frightened.
Scared at the fact that this—these people—are all still you. They all stem from your origin. If you had taken a different direction, you would grow into one of them.
You shiver.
V/n doesn't take notice, too swallowed up in the loud clashing of the brutal and bloody scene in front of the both of you, M/n and Vg/n throwing and blocking punches like it was training day in the Wayne family.
So you decide to watch too. If Bruce couldn't notice them as they are right now, how extreme would you have to go to get his attention?
And you don't notice; don't notice how the scenery slowly starts to change in front of you. How the color of the alleyway grows dimmer and how the blue hue in the sky slowly changes into a deep saffron. Before you know it, you blink and find yourself in a new location.
────── ₊˚⊹ ✶ ──────
EARTH, ALTERNATE UNIVERSE: VILLAIN
You turn around, the world completely shifted around you. There were no more alternates yelling in front of you. Loud shouts and gunshots are heard nearby, though the street is busy and no one seems to spare a second glance. They keep their heads down as if they'll die if they get too nosy.
You purse your lips.
The bright lights of the cars zooming by weren’t comforting by any means. Puddles were littered near the sidewalk, signaling it had recently rained.
Walking through the damp, wet street, you soon realize you didn't just teleport to a random location in Gotham—you had a hunch you were in a completely alternate universe.
The world was darker, shades of monotone black and white filling the streets. Every color you saw seemed more muted.
And well, your original Gotham might not have been vivid in color, but it certainly wasn't lacking like the city in front of you. Just looking at it made the frown deepen on your face.
You didn't know where to go. You don't know which alternate universe you ended up in, and you weren't going to take any chances.
So you ended up in a distant yet familiar house: the Wayne Manor.
You put in the password for the front gate that you remember, a loud beep ringing in your ear.
Entering through the expensive gate, you stop at the front door of the mansion, reminded of when you first got here. You freeze at the memory, your hands shaking, unable to open the door again.
With a deep breath, you try and calm yourself down, but it feels futile.
Whatever—fuck it!
You swing the doors open with your eyes shut before closing the door behind you and walking through the house, your shoes squeaking at every slight misstep.
"Hello?" you call out. You weren't expecting anyone to answer; they were probably on patrol, after all.
And yet you hear a voice behind you:
"Y/n...?" A small, short, quivering voice speaks up from behind you.
Turning your head, you see Bruce.
"Oh, uh..." You pause, not sure how to respond, watching his eyes widen slightly as if something was erroneous. "I thought you were on patrol?"
He watches your every move, as if the moment you make any sudden action, you'll disappear. "No, no!" he growls out. "You can't be... you can't be real."
Your eyes stare blankly at him, squinting as you try to make sense of his words. "Well, I'm pretty sure I am, based on the way I'm in front of you right now..."
"No! You're..." He pauses, the words unable to flow out of his mouth.
"You died. I saw it, I was there,"
And that's when you knew you were fucked.
You had no excuse for this.
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batfam is so badly out of character but its ok we ballin
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